#ALSO WYN AT THE BOTTOM

[houserautha]

These Destined Ends

Part Eleven

Summary: Jessica fulfilled the wishes of the Bene Gesserits to produce a daughter. You’re now burdened with the task of not only marrying the na-Baron, but also bearing his child — the Kwisatz Haderach. Will you take your fate into your own hands? Or will it always belong to those who control you?

Pairings: Feyd-Rautha x F!Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: you stabbed him and now you handcuff him, blood play, wound play, the events in this part are probably not hygienic or realistic but my thots took over, you both cry, mentions of killing/death, brief depiction of killing

A/N: I would like to add that reader and Feyd have such a toxic relationship but god do I love it so much (also the writing god possessed me and made it possible for this to be published now instead of tonight, god bless)

You push the dagger in to its handle.

It comes back slick with blood.

You use it to quickly unlatch your bindings, then shift aside as Feyd falls onto the bed beside you. Without thinking, you place a knee on either side of his waist and set to inspecting your work — the cut is deep, weeping ink-colored blood. A depraved part of you wants him to suffer, to feel pain as unimaginably deep as you did. And you do not want him to clot quickly.

Feyd’s hand ghosts over the wound. Blood spills onto his alabaster skin, the bedsheets, on the leg of your pant nestled into his side. And all the while he gazes up at you endearingly, face noticeably paler, blood coming to gather at the corner of his lips. You lean forward to kiss him and lap up the droplets of blood, he groans; you’re pressing your entire weight into him, into the wound.

“I want you to hurt,” you whisper against his mouth. You put your fingers to the wound, Feyd shifting uncomfortably as your nails bite into the recently torn flesh. Beneath you, his cock stirs, and in response you dig your fingers in deeper.

His flesh is warm. Wet.

“Fuck,” Feyd mutters.

“I want to hurt you and you’re enjoying it,” you sneer at him, “perhaps I should just stop. Chain you up to the bed, see how you like it. Leave you to bleed out alone.”

He doesn’t reply. There’s a flicker of recognition in his eyes — he knows that he’s supposed to atone for his family’s crime, play his part in your twisted battle of wits, but there’s no denying his swelling, twitching cock, eager to make contact between your legs. He grimaces as you remove your hand, breath expelling in shaky bursts.

Feyd watches you reclaim the cuff, hook it around his wrist and then do the same with the cuff on the other side of the bed that Wyn hadn’t bothered to attach. You secure both cuffs so that his hands are pinned above his head. He looks infuriatingly gorgeous like this, blood wetting his skin and your hands, muscles tensed and pain spasming his handsome features.

You grind against him and his hips buck.

“Fuck,” he says again.

You lose yourself, slightly, at the sight of him like this, and you’re entangled between vengeance and desire. The urge to maim him paired with the dreadful urge you have to ride him.

Why couldn’t you do both?

You rake your nails down his chest, creating trails of angry welts from sternum to navel. His breath quickens. Blood pools near the site of the wound and you drag your fingers through it.

“Interesting. You bleed just like the rest of us, Feyd-Rautha.”

“Do you want another taste?”

He inhales sharply. You’ve angrily pressed your palm into the wound, resenting him for reminding you of your transgressions. You growl, “You won’t find humor in this when I’m done with you.”

Fingers bloodied, you put them to his plush bottom lip — fuck, his lips drove you wild — and down his chin, the column of his throat, over the welts you’ve created. He writhes. You unbuckle his pants and, without any trace of kindness, tear them from his narrow hips. Feyd whimpers as the sudden movement prompts a gush of blood, and you grin at the reaping of your effort. He glares.

You scoop more blood like a painter from its palette. His cock is standing to attention, arched backward slightly, flushed and threaded with pulsing veins. Starting at his swollen head, you trace your fingers up and down, coating him thoroughly with his own blood. It takes several applications before you’re satisfied. An entirely addictive sounds escapes him when you fist the base of his shaft and start pumping, the slickness of the blood easing your work.

You stroke him over and over, varying your pace as not to guide him to orgasm. He rallies against you, straining at the cuffs. Although you can’t see it, you feel him dig his heels into the mattress in an effort to gain purchase, anything to channel the desire unfurling inside him. And all the while you watch him, fascinated, bleeding profusely yet so eager for your touch.

The mighty Feyd-Rautha, champion of Giedi Prime, shuddering and moaning beneath you, pre-cum leaking from the slit of his cock. It draws heat to your core. With his hands over his head, his mobility is limited, and you use this to your advantage: maintaining a steady pace on his cock with one hand while the other explores his body, dipping down to cup his balls, trace his thighs, then back up to tease his taunt nipples and the wound in his side. Feyd cries out, eyes rolling back and hips snapping.

You revoke your hand. He’s practically shivering now, undoubtedly torn between pain and pleasure. You climb carefully off his lap. Feyd’s gaze burns into you as you strip off your clothes until you’re standing only in your panties.

“This should only hurt a little,” you tell him. The muscles in his stomach jump and flicker as you resume your kneeling position, this time decidedly higher.

Your clit is aching for friction, so much so that you grind your center into him, right over the wound. He grunts in pain with each roll of your pelvis, seeking out your pleasure while you aggravate the place where the dagger had slid in, breasts pushing outwards. You can see it on his face, what he would do if he could use his mouth on you, his hands, but the pain is too great. Tears spring to his eyes as he fights the crashing waves of agony while you ride his wound.

“It’s not enough,” you utter, mostly to yourself, “it’s not enough.” Not enough pain.

You slide back down his body, reclaim his cock, then notch its head at your entrance. You’re slick with your own desire, and his blood, and you have to fend off his bucking hips to prevent him from penetrating you. The sensation of him gives you shivers, racing up and down your body.

You brace your quivering thighs and sink down on top of him. Feyd howls as your walls clamp down, taking him in one swift movement. You can’t help it — your head lulls back and your body bows, gripped by a wave of unbelievable pleasure. He fills you up so neatly, so fully, that you’re in despair when you pull away, then plunge back down with even more force. It reminds you of the throne room, how you had wrested the power from him. But you were na-Baron and na-Baroness before, this equates to something much more primal, raw, two blood-soaked fighters in an arena of your own making.

You ride him to completion, cuming on his cock twice before he finally musters the words, “Enough. You’ve got your punishment. Now let me fuck my wife.”

You pause with him still seated deep inside you.

“I don’t think I’ve yet reached the depths of your pain,” you tell him in reply.

Feyd’s eyes flash. “No weapons can maim me as entirely as having you naked in front of me and without the use of my hands to touch you. There will be no show of blood for how you’ve tormented me. No physical measure. Let me fuck you now so that we may be equals again.”

Seconds after you unlatch the cuffs, Feyd is on you. He all but attacks you, mouth hungrily searching yours, hands grabbing at your body. Effortlessly he flips you onto your back, blood gushing from him. He wavers, probably from loss of blood, before burying himself inside you. You cry out, wringing pleasure from him with each thrust, the feel of his hands more rewarding than anything without them. He’s on every surface of you — pressing kisses down your neck, your breasts, pulling each nipple into his mouth and giving them a lewd suckle. His hands grab the backs of your thighs, your ass, pin your hips to the bed so that you can’t move.

“You. Are. Mine,” he grunts with each thrust. His voice is wreathed with anger. Possession.

Heartache.

You can’t even begin to examine this before he spears you even faster, with more vigor, words slurring together with impassion. “You are mine, jewel. I thought you dead. I thought you taken from me. But no one can take you from me. No one. You don’t even possess that ability. I am the keeper of your life.”

He’s becoming more and more incensed, his pace growing sloppy and unpredictable. You feel a wetness by your neck and you realize that it’s not blood causing it but rather a furious outpouring of tears from your husband, his jaw clenched and brows furrowed in concentration.

“Mine.” Thrust. “Mine.” Thrust. “Mine.”

You cling to him, hold him the only way you know how, with your legs wrapped around his waist and your nails down his back. It’s as if you’re trying to merge into one being, take this man as part of your own flesh and, in addition, make his sorrows and pain yours. You taste the salt of your own tears as you both rise and crest like waves against one another, finally not opponents in a war that you can’t win but allies in a surmountable battle.

Feyd cums first, but you follow quickly after. Pulsing and shuddering, he cries into your neck as he fills you with his seed, clutching your body to him just as tightly. Both of you are gasping for air from the exertion, the tears, the culmination of your pleasures being chased down in such a heightened state. Feyd withdraws from you. He allows one hand to press against his wound protectively, but then surprises you by placing his bloodied handprint on your breast.

Above your heart.

“You are mine,” he says, “and I am yours.”

Hot water pours down you in rivulets, interrupted only by Feyd’s hands as he washes your body. Crimson water swirls down the drain. You take turns silently scrubbing the blood from each other and swapping stolen kisses, Feyd wincing each time the water makes contact with the wound. You start to form some semblance of an apology but Feyd silences you with a formidable look. “It was necessary,” he tells you.

The bloodied sheets and discarded clothes are much harder to rid of. And there’s no saying what Doctor Wyn was thinking when you told her that Feyd now demanded her attention, what she thought when she saw the horrible wound etched into his side. But, to her credit, she never asked any questions, and you never gave her any answers.

You could see why Feyd hired her.

And when someone wasn’t aggravating the wound, it healed much faster. Feyd refused any ointment that would erase the scar, however, which you knew he would. He kept every scar from every fight like badges of honor. You knew most of them well by now, and had your fair amount of contributions. And although you never explicitly discussed what happened between you two that day, you felt it between you like a tether, binding you together in a way that even you had no words to describe.

And that’s why you stall the Baron’s wish to seek an audience with you. You won’t go without Feyd.

He’s stubbornly vague about everything, too, claiming that it would make more sense to wait to hear everything unfold at once. You’ve missed too much while self-contained and now feel eager to return, to start the plot against Feyd’s uncle.

“I have my ideas,” he says one day when you’re begging him incessantly, “but first hear what the Baron says, make your own judgements. Revenge does not happen overnight.”

This irritates you, but you ultimately oblige.

Finally the day comes for your visit with the Baron, and you make sure to wear your best dress. Instead of the usual monochrome Harkonnen colors you’ve chosen a bright red, a thin fabric that clings to your figure. Feyd’s lips twitch when he sees you.

“You wear red to invoke the ire of the bull.”

“The Baron is no bull,” you retort. You think back to your grandfather’s legacy, of the dark eyes of the bull staring at you while you sat at the table on Arrakis. And while the Baron was not a bull, you were determined to have his head anyway.

Feyd grabs your hand, feathers his lips over your knuckles. “You look exceptional.”

You smile at him. “Let’s see what your uncle has to say.”

You made it a condition of the meeting not to be held in the throne room — you didn’t like the imbalance of power. Besides, you weren’t a lowly citizen come to collect their stipend, you were the na-Baroness, bound to the na-Baron in a bond that transcended the intricacies of power. You were no longer two beings but one, a formidable union. And as you sneak a glimpse of Feyd before you enter the dining room, you’re only emboldened by the resolve you see in his face; he is a fine partner to have in battle, indeed.

The doors open and his hand brushes yours once, a subtle indication of his fealty to you.

Your chin is raised and your stride confident as you approach the table. “A meal then, between family,” the Baron had said when you declined his offer to meet at the throne room. You notice that neither the Baron nor Rabban stand when you enter, which digs under your skin like a splinter.

“Don’t spare your na-Baroness with your pleasantries,” Feyd rasps darkly.

“This is not a political endeavor,” the Baron replies. If he realizes just how agitated his nephew is, he doesn’t show it. “Sit, sit. We dine together finally. I am only too glad to…catch up.”

It’s difficult to keep your composure neutral. Here before you is the man who orchestrated your family’s deaths, the one who carried them out. Hatred burns inside you.

You take your seat, Feyd beside you.

“We’ve already had our catching up, haven’t we, brother?” Rabban’s gaze is cutting.

Feyd just stares evenly back at him. “I remember.”

Rabban grins triumphantly. “And I’m glad to see that you’re healing well.” Before you can inquire about this — was Rabban the cause of the scar across his face? — the former turns his attention to you. “It is my dear sister-in-law that I need to reunite with. Isn’t that right?”

“Need is a strong word,” you retort. “I was under the impression I didn’t have much choice.”

“Oh, how you wound with your words as well as the blade,” Rabban replies, feigning insult.

“You seem to know quite a lot about blades, Rabban. Is that how you dealt the deaths of my family?”

Rabban sneers. The Baron holds up a large hand, his voice punishing, “That’s enough.”

“I’ve only just started,” you bite back.

“Brother, temper your wife,” Rabban says. “She speculates that which she has no knowledge of.”

You open your mouth to reply, outraged, but Feyd beats you to the punch. “My wife will do and say as she pleases. You should just be grateful that she hasn’t slit your throat yet.”

“There will be no deaths today,” the Baron warns.

“Because you’ve had your fill of them?” You counter. Under the table, your fingers form claws.

“Let me give you the truth, na-Baroness, so that you might stop leveling accusations,” the Baron replies coolly. “You are new to the Harkonnen so I may forgive you this once. You were not born as we were. That being said, we were the original defenders of Arrakis. It is our planet. And as you know we will do whatever it takes to defend our own.”

You can’t help it. You snort. Is that what he was doing when he cajoled his young nephew? Put more darkness in him than necessary?

“With the help of the Emperor, we were able to reclaim Arrakis. We tried to give House Atreides the option of conceding but they staunchly refused. We did only what we had to do.”

Your eyes narrow. “The Emperor aided you?”

This, you knew, but you wanted to hear an explanation from his own mouth.

“We both had certain…lofty aspirations…that the other could provide. It was a rational exchange,” the Baron says, as if talking about expanding trade routes instead of lives. “The Emperor was fearful of your father and his power. Now he has to worry no more.”

Conversation subsides as servants place food in front of you, some kind of bird drenched in a sickly colored sauce. The only person to touch it is the Baron, who savagely devours it without any use of utensils.

“You lie,” you finally say. “My father had no intentions of usurping the Emperor as you claim.”

“The Emperor is a…fickle man. He knows his own weaknesses. I cannot blame him for his fear.”

“And why did he partner with you?” You ask. “What did you gain from this?”

“Arrakis,” the Baron answers simply.

“You said that you both had aspirations that the other could provide,” Feyd presses, taking the words from your mouth. “You eliminate the House Atreides for the Emperor, but you are not the sole benefactor of Arrakis. You must know that I would rather perish than take orders from you.”

The Baron wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “I suppose the news will come out sooner or later. Rabban?”

News? What news?

Rabban grins at you and Feyd. “The princess Irulan and I are engaged to be married.”

Shock seizes you and keeps you from forming any sort of response. The Emperor gave his eldest daughter to Rabban? Thoughts race through your mind. Not only did that mean the Baron had his influence in Arrakis but now the entire Known Universe as well. Dread fills you. How had anyone allowed this to happen?

“That’s not the congratulations I was expecting,” Rabban continues, clearly pleased with himself.

Feyd’s fist strikes the table, causing the silverware to rattle. “You gave me Arrakis over my brother, but now you secure him as Emperor? What are you playing at, uncle?”

“Your brother is willing to…follow my orders, as you so eloquently said. His loyalty deserves recognition.”

“This is a grave error,” Feyd snarls.

“Jealous, are we?” Rabban asks, drawing the attention back to him. “This could’ve all been avoided if you’d only accepted my offer,” he says to you, then Feyd, “and then you could’ve been in my position, heir apparent to the Empire.”

Feyd shoots to his feet. “I should’ve killed you when I had the chance.”

“Boys,” the Baron snaps, intervening what you are certain would’ve been a death match, “everything is now in place. Feyd-Rautha will rule Arrakis and its coveted spice; Rabban, the Empire. Instead of fighting you should be celebrating the fortune of the Harkonnens.”

Silence descends.

This was worse than you imagined. The Baron had manipulated everyone here to get what he wanted. It was he who would profit from the marriages he forged for his nephews.

“Now, Feyd-Rautha, you must put aside your envy. You and the na-Baroness are required to return to Arrakis in a fortnight.”

It feels as if someone has poured ice water down your spine. “What?”

“You think you can rule from Giedi Prime?” The Baron asks, bemused.

“Fine.” Feyd looks to you but no one else. “We are done here.”

You want to challenge him, to remain where you are and root out more truth, but to do so would to humiliate him. You avoid the eyes of the Baron and Rabban as you pick up the skirt of your dress and follow after him dutifully.

The doors slam shut behind you with a resounding thud.

As you search for something to say, Feyd screams, visceral and terrifying. In a blind fury, he cuts down the two closest servants with his dagger, their blood splattering the ground as their bodies slump to the floor. His shoulders heave, dagger gripped tightly in his grasp, and he whirls on you wildly as you approach.

“Do not give them the satisfaction,” you whisper urgently to him, grabbing his face. Your touch soothes him ever so slightly. “Their time will come but first we must consider how to proceed, formulate a plan that will leave them in their graves. They will not go unpunished.”

The dagger clatters to the ground as Feyd finally releases it.

“I will not rest until then,” he swears.

You rock up on your toes and press your forehead to his, holding him to you. “Neither shall I.”

Taglist:

@moonsoulk @heartarianagran @torchbearerkyle @unicoreads @taleah @mamawiggers1980 @jovialeggsbailiffsoul @harkonnin @avidreader73 @unicorntrooper @beebeechaos @kamcrazy123 @wo-ming-bai @m-indkiller @kpopnstarwars @dacreshoney @stopeatread @the-na-baroness @therealslimshady-1

#dune #feyd x reader #feyd x you #fanfic writing #feyd smut #writers on tumblr #feyd rautha harkonnen #writing #fanfic #these destined ends #feyd rautha

[backgroundagent3]

My Emily Henry Rankings

@brekker-by-brekkerr you asked here if I had a ranking of the Emily Henry books and couples, so after way too long, here's my opinions, along with some really bad explanations. <3 Spoilers ahead!!

Books:

Happy Place. This was the first Emily Henry book I read, and the first book that ever made me cry. Harriet was so relatable, and it was probably my favourite setting out of the four books. The characters were all so interesting, and they had such a great dynamic. I love the found family trope, and she absolutely nailed it.

Book Lovers. I loved the plot so much, and Nora was also so relatable in a different way. I loved how even though she isn't perfect, she doesn't have to change and give up her job to get what she wants. Her relationship with Libby reminded me a lot of me and my sister, which was so nice to read about.

People We Meet On Vacation. I really liked the structure of this book, and I think it made the reveal so much better. I also loved reading about all the places they went to.

Beach Read. I loved this book so much, so the only reason it's ranked in last place is because I somehow loved the other ones even more. The plot felt a little slower, but I think that has a lot to do with the fact that I only managed to read about 5 minutes a day.

Couples:

These were much easier to rank for some reason.

Nora and Charlie. I just love them so much, I don't even know what to say. I love how they respect each other's choices and make their decisions according to what they want/need, not what the other one wants. I usually really like the quiet, more mature relationships where they know they love each other without needing to shout it from the rooftops.

January and Gus. I though the way they learned to communicate without pushing each other was really sweet, even if it led to some misunderstandings. Enemies to lovers is always great, especially if one if then doesn't even realize they were never actually enemies.

Harriet and Wyn. I was a little annoyed at Wyn for most of the book to be honest, and so frustrated with their miscommunication. That's not to say I didn't like them. I think they were so sweet and had some of my favourite lines.

Poppy and Alex. Again with the terrible communication skills. I get that it's an important trope for the genre and it made sense in this book, but I'm a very impatient person. I did love how well they know and understand each other, but I think I preferred the scenes when they were just friends.

I'm also going to do main characters, because why not:

Nora Stephens.

Harriet Kilpatrick.

January Andrews.

Poppy Wright.

The reasoning here is purely relatability. I can see a bit of myself in all four of them, but some more than others. As I was writing this I realised the ones at the top I find relatable because of more negative things, like my insecurities, or qualities I have that I don't like. I share a lot of qualities with the ones at the bottom, but at the end of the day, I like reading about people who share my struggles and doubts because it's comforting to know I'm not alone. I don't know if this makes any sense, but it was very interesting in my head.

So anyways, these are my opinions. How would you rank them?

#emily henry #happy place #book lovers #people we meet on vacation #pwmov #beach read #nora stephens #charlie lastra #january andrews #gus everett #harriet kilpatrick #wyn connor #poppy wright #alex nilsen #books #brekker-by-brekkerr #background agent 3

[pacifymebby]

you're not the only one // chapter one

an// yes I'm putting this on here and finishing it because I miss it

I stood behind the bar polishing the taps half hearted and sleepy. It was getting late and though I only had an hour or two left of my shift I felt as if a moment longer was going to kill me off. I hadn't had much sleep the night before - my own fault, up all night playing video games again - and busy nights like this were always hard for me. Not just because of the work but because of the noise, the constant chatter, the conversations I had to make and the smiles I had to fake. It wasn't just strangers who sent my anxieties into overdrive, it was everyone and tonight I was well and truly exhausted.

All I wanted was to go home, smoke a joint with my brother and put a film on. If I could only curl up on the sofa under a blanket and forget about everything, I'd be in heaven.

I forced a smile when I saw a young lad approach the bar, grabbing four glasses before he'd even asked because him and his mates had been in all night, they were in every Friday night.

"Areet pet that's you," I said offering him his change as I lined the pints I'd just poured up along the bar, "anything else?" I asked already knowing what he was going to say next. The same thing him and his other mates had been telling me all night.

"My mate fancies you..." he said biting back a snigger, grinning when I rolled my eyes.

"You're not funny Keir," I smirked shrugging him off only to jump moments later when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"Areet little bond get your jacket am droppin yas home tonight," said Sam leaving me stuttering over a response.

Stuttering for two reasons to be precise.

The first was the immediate confusion.

"wait wh, what?" I asked turning only slightly to look back at him, my grip on the towel in my hands growing slack with disappointment, "Johnny's meant..." I trailed off, trailing off more for the second reason than the first.

The second reason was that Sam, slightly older than me, much taller, cuter, friendlier than me, had been a silly crush of mine since he'd first shown up as one of my big brothers new mates.

"Aye treacle a know he said that like, had go out..."

"F.." I trailed of, biting down on my bottom lip. I could feel pin pricks in my eyes like i was about to cry. Over tired and let down and now panicking because I'd just come to another realisation. "Shit..." I winced knitting a frown on Sam's brows.

"Don't worry about the hours like lass," he said, "we'll sort them out..." he said but it wasn't that which worried me. I didn't care about whether I'd be able to make up the hours or not because I already knew Id be able to. The pub was always busy at the weekend, i could just come back tomorrow and it'd be sound.

And Sam could tell just by my expression that it wasn't the hours. Actually he could recognise quite a lot more in my expression than I realised. Like the beginnings of my anxiety taking over. His voice softened when he spoke to me, his expression softening too. Embarrassing me because I could tell he knew, which meant my brother had probably warned him, which meant he probably now thought I was just as childish and pathetic as most other people did. An 18 year old girl who still cries at the drop of a hat, who can't look anyone in the eye, who loses her voice when it's her turn to speak.

"Cmon Wyn," he offered me a little smile, hand squeezing my shoulder reassuringly, "let's get your things yeah, you look like you could do with an early finish anyway," he said steering me towards the back room to pick up my jacket. He followed close behind me taking my faded brown jacket of the hook before I could reach for it, draping it around my shoulders, confusing me a little.

Sam had always been nice to me, partly because he was always nice to everyone and probably also partly because he knew my big brother, and most people who knew Johnny were always sound with me too. But that was all. Usually I was just "little bond" to everybody and nobody paid much mind to me other than that. I was Bondys little sister, miles younger and miles quieter than he was was. There probably wasn't that much interesting about me when you compared me to charismatic, always messing around Johnny.

But tonight Sam was being sweeter than normal, it made me a little suspicious. What had Johnny said to him about me to make him be quite as kind as he was being?

When we stepped outside I started walking to Sam's car, it wasnt unusual for him to have to drop me back, it was just unusual for him to have to drop me back unplanned like tonight.

I got half way across the little car park however before he stopped me, jogging to catch up with me stopping me in the middle of a space. His eyes were questioning and I could feel the tension in my jaw and in my throat.

If he didn't let me past soon I was going to burst into tears in front of him and really embarrass myself.

I hated crying in front of people, even my brother who was used to it by now.

"What's the matter Wyn?" he asked, "yas look dead upset..." he said a little quieter, leaving me to swallow a lump in my throat. Addressing the look in my eyes only ever made it worse. Using that gentle, forgiving tone with me only ever pushed me closer to tears.

"Nothin am fine," I mumbled, my voice so quiet I thought it would be lost over the noise from the road but it wasn't and he shook his head.

"It's not nothin lass cmon," he said with an encouraging smile, both his hands in his pockets, he almost looked a little nervous himself.

"Am..." I opened my mouth about to lie and shrug it off again, try to make it back to Johnny's without crying. But I lost my words when I looked up, when I looked up at him. It wasn't a rare occurence for me to forget what I was saying around Sam but tonight it wasn't that I'd forgotten. It was that my heart had raced ahead of me and the words had gotten stuck in my throat. I hadn't held back the anxious tide and now I knew that if I spoke my voice would crack and id wind up crying in the car park outside my work. Everyone would see it and Sam would think I was insane.

So I shut my mouth and shook my head tried to swallow a lump in my throat. Tried again but still no words came out.

It wasn't anything serious on my mind, that was the most embarrassing thing. I'd only forgotten my key. That made it worse though didn't it. Crying cause I'd forgotten my key.

"Wyn lass..." Sam started, beginning to sound a little awkward himself, looking back at me with wary eyes, I saw him swallow a lump in his throat, like he could see me about to cry, like he was already way out of his depth.

"It's nothin like," I said quickly, panicking, not wanting to panic him, not that I could really imagine he panicked the same way I did.

"Reckon it's probably not lass," he said with an awkward little smirk, he looked and sounded like he didn't know what to say to me. "Yas don't look like it's nowt like," he said then, he didn't step closer just shifted from one foot to the other and let out a sigh. "It cause your brother canny come like?" he asked but I just shook my head and closed my eyes, well aware by now that I looked like a dramatic idiot. I was massively over reacting and I knew it but I couldn't help it.

"Then what is it lass? It's reet to talk when your upset you know," he said chewing his cheek the same way I was chewing my cheek, finally giving in and nodding me over to his car. "Gan freeze out here like, cmon," he said unlocking the car and opening the door for me.

I kept quiet as I shrunk down into the passenger seat and reached for my seat belt.

When he shut the door and wandered around to his side I watched him through the window and swallowed a lump in my throat. At least now he'd have to watch the road and not me, at least now he wouldn't see if I shed a tear. I could shrink back into my too big denim jacket and hide away.

But when he got into the car and turned it on he didn't start the engine. Instead he just switched the heater on and waited quietly.

"Cmon girl talk to us, gotta look out for me mates wee sis haven't I," he said reminding me of the real reason he was suddenly so interested in me. That made it a little easier to shrug my shoulders and tell him it was nowt.

"Just forgot me key, so a canny get in without Johnny can a," I said quietly, feeling stupid, not sure whether I ought to feel more stupid when I saw Sam twitch the smallest of smiles.

"Oh," he breathed, "areet well," he said chewing his cheek as he started the car and pulled off. He was still thinking as he flicked the indicator and pulled out onto the road.

"Its reet yas can still drop us home like its not that..." I started mumbling, tripping over my words feeling guilty for inconveniencing him but he just smirked and cut me off.

"Nah way lass," he said, "am not just leaving you outside your house in the middle of the night like, not in fuckin shields like..." he was grinning but it was a grin of disbelief and i couldn't help but smile a little self concious too.

"Aye a guess not," I said quietly.

"Reet well a said ad meet the lads in toon tonight but if ya want we can just chill at mine, yas can wait for your brother or just stay till tomorrow or..."

"Nah way yas canny fuck your night off for me like," I said quickly, a little too quickly, biting my lip and daring only a glance at him when he smirked.

"I want finished little Bond," he grinned, "I was gan say, OR, yas could come out on the toon wi us if ya like, be me wingman like," he was teasing me then, I could tell, and I wasn't really sure I could trust his offer. Was he taking the piss?

Sam wasn't a mate, he was my brothers mate and even then only vaguely, we only spoke on the rare occasion Bondy asked him to drop me home and even then our journeys were filled with awkward silences. He was usually friendly enough but it was me that was the problem, I was the overly anxious one who couldn't look him in the eye or get a word out without blushing.

"Are ya sure..." I started, "a mean like, that lad spilled all them pints doon me earlier an I proper reak of beer an..." I knew I was making excuses, I wasn't really one for big nights out, didn't spend much of my time pissed down toon with my mates. If I went down the pub it was usually with my mates or with Bondy and his mates, I was always the bairn of the group, always allowed to be quiet and chill in the corner, drinking slower than the rest, smiling along when they made their jokes but never really the center of attention myself. That was how I was best comfortable but I'd heard Sam talking about his wild nights on the toon at work before, heard stories from Bondy and his mates about the things they all got up to when they went hard. I wasn't sure how I'd really fit into that scene. 

"Aye well I'll borrow yas a tshirt lass you're alreet there like... What dya reckon, night out on the toon, wanna get absolutely mortal with me and the lads?"

"Guess I havent really got much choice av a?" I smirked, a faint smile lingering on my lips only splitting into a self conscious grin when he corrected me. 

"Nah I think you'll find I just gave yas a choice little bond," he said, flicking the indicator in his car, pulling up onto his road. 

I'd only been to his house once before, I'd waited in the back of the car when Johnny had to drop some pedals and gear round for him. He'd gone inside and spent twenty minutes chatting and pissing around with Sam and Drew and Id waited quietly playing snake on my phone, not paying much attention at all. 

"Reet well still," I said quietly, my small smile still lingering, something in Sam's voice relaxing me a little, easing my troubled mind so that without really noticing it, my mind stopped jumping to catastrophes and started to see the bright side. As tempting as it would be to just stay home, watch TV till my brother came to fetch me home, I knew that we'd only wind up sitting in an awkward silence, me feeling progressively like I was taking up too much space. Getting in his way and ruining his night. 

"That a yes?" he raised is brow, the mischievous light in his eyes flickering as he flashed me a grin and cut the engine. 

"Aye gwan then," I grinned feeling a little thrill flicker through the anxious knot in my stomach, my smile growing when I saw his and how pleased he looked. 

"Class!" he grinned locking the car behind us. I went to follow behind him hesitantly up the path but his hand caught my waist and steered me to walk in front of him up the path, so that when we got to his front door he stood behind me, one hand on my shoulder as he reached round me to unlock the door. His presence so close to me leaving me struggling to breath, leaving a flush in my cheeks as he pushed the front door open saying something about how they'd give me a grand night out. 

I didn't really doubt that it would be a good night, I just doubted what I'd have to contribute to it. 

"Iya mam, little Bonds here, we're gan oot in a min," he called up the stairs, his mam shouting down seconds later, telling us to be safe, telling him to make sure he was quiet when he came in. 

"Is your brother gannin?" she called from her bedroom as Sam nodded for me to follow him up the stairs. The stairs, just like the ones at ours, creaked when I trod on them, but Sam seemed to know which ones to miss and so I tried my best to copy his footfalls as we walked up stairs and across the tiny landing into his room. 

"I don't know think hes already gone?" 

"Well yas both missed your tea like," she said and then she appeared in her bedroom door, a smile on her face as she looked at me. She was short like me, her friendly face one I recognised because she worked in the carehome my nana had lived in before she'd passed away last year. 

"Hiya Dylan," she smiled, her smile warm just like Sam's, "how are ya love? That brother of yours forgotten about yas or somat?" she grinned, leaving a smile on my lips as I nodded. 

"Hiya," I said, my voice coming out quiet as it always did, I could hear Sam rooting around in his room and I couldn't help but wish he'd come back soon, save me from this spotlight I suddenly felt flushing my cheeks. "Somet like that yeah," I said, "m'alright though, Sam said a could stay here is that areet?" 

"Aye course pet, you an yours are always welcome you know that!" she said, though that wasn't strictly true. I'd not really seen her since my nana had died, Johnny was the Bond she knew, just like everybody else. I could remember when we'd visited in the care home, she'd told us we were welcome round whenever, the whole family like, but she'd only really been speaking to Bondy, because she knew him and Sam were mates. I'd never thought that the invitation was meant for all of us. 

"Thanks," I smiled softly, shyly, looking over my shoulder to see where Sam was just in time to see him come wandering blindly out of his bedroom with his tshirt half pulled up over his head. He was changing from the shirt he'd been wearing for work into a stripey black and white tshirt, and when he pulled it down over his head he saw me staring eyes wide, embarassed as a blush flourished like flowers on my cheeks. But he didn't say anything, just shot me a small smile and turned to his mam, started talking again. 

"Wyns gan come oot on the toon wi us mam," he grinned, "borrowing her a tshirt takin her oot like," he said, his hand on my back as he offered me a black tshirt which I could already tell was going to be massive on me. 

"Oh aye? You make sure you look after her then lad," she said with a smile, "have fun both of yas, I don't want Johnny killin yas for losing his wee sister," she grinned, though I couldn't tell whether she was joking and Sam - though smiling - seemed to take her seriously. 

"Aye mam aye," he grinned, "she'll be reet as rain wont ya little bond," he said, before nodding me to his room, telling me to go and get changed. 

His bedroom was a mess, small and full of shite, like mine actually, like my brothers too. He had a guitar in the corner, a guitar leaning against his bed too, a mess of leads and pedals and sweaters and socks, and no mirror anywhere in his room which meant that when I changed into his tshirt I could only guess at what I looked like. 

"Oh you can just leave that in me room lass, I'll bring it into work for yas when its washed like," he said, a smirk on his lips when he looked me over, "looks better than I was expectin on yas that does Wyn," he said, his mam snorting, me blushing. 

"Oh charming lad, you've got such a way with words havent you," she laughed at him, "yas look lovely pet, yas always do," she said, perhaps she recognised my self conscious smile or perhaps she was just saying it to embarrass her son even more. "Areet well yas two both have a good night, be safe," she said as Sam put an arm around me to steer me back downstairs. 

"Areet lass ya ready?" he asked, checking his pockets for his keys and his wallet as I shrugged my jacket back on and looked at him with wide shy eyes.

I wasn't ready, at least i didn't feel it, but he was looking at me with the warmest of smiles, like we were mates, like he really wanted me to have a good time. So I forced a grin and nodded my head, followed him out into the night reaching into my back pocket for a cigarette. One I'd been desperate for for hours.

"The lads are propa idiots ya nar but yas'll love em they're class really," he said, looking at me as I lit my cig, looking at me like he was trying to offer me some reassurance.

Like he could see the apprehensive look in my eyes as we wandered down the street towards the metro.

"Aye Johnnys got loads of stories about your lot," I said quietly, smiling, sort of forcing conversation in a way he could tell. Still he chuckled and shook his head and reiterated the point.

"You'll fit in reet lass a promise dunnar worry about it," he said with a smile.

"am not," I said shrugging my shoulders, but i was and he could see it.

"Aye lass course you're not," he chuckled, eyes flickering over me, making me blush because I'd never seen him look at me for so long before. I could feel his eyes on me, could see him thinking as he watched me messing with my hair, fidgeting, growing more self concious by the second. "You don't have be shy round me ya nar Wyn," he said then, his own gaze flickering nervously then as he bit his lip and looked away.

I didn't know what to say, my own bottom lip caught between my teeth as I looked up and him and immediately down at my shoes. Hoping that if i remained silent I wouldn't have to worry, he'd say something else and change the subject. But when he spoke again he only carried on.

"Y'nar you're not the only one yeah?" he said, his elbow knocking mine as he looked down at me, eyes warm and soft like his expression, trying to coax me out of my hiding place, "get dead anxious about loadsa random shite me like, panic attacks an everythin," he said chewing his cheek, trailing off as we crossed a road. We were getting closer to the pub and suddenly I was feeling even less like i wanted to follow him towards his lary mates.

"Really?" I asked, looking up at him a little surprised. It felt rude to be surprised but I was, Sam had always seemed so confident and charismatic to me, but now I was looking at him i could see it, a discomfort in the way he'd shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Aye lass, get dead in me own head about stuff all the fucken time I do, am a nightmare," he said with a grin, "so you don't need be scared of me like... Am not judging yas," he said, drawing a little smile on my lips.

I wanted so badly to say something back but I couldn't. I couldn't speak because he was looking at me so warmly. Really looking at me. His dimple popped, his smile a little crooked smirk in the corner of his mouth. His eyes flickering with emotion, he had the kind of eyes which really lit up, which couldn't hide how he was feeling. They kind of drew me in and left me speechless, looking up at him a little nervously because he was waiting for me to say something and id lost my voice.

My heart was beating strange and slow, my mind racing, my mouth a little dry. On my cheeks i could feel the heat of a blush spreading.

And when I didn't say anything he flashed a proper grin, nodding to the metro stop, his arm hovering around my waist as we picked up the pace. "Cmon then, the toon awaits..."

#sam fender fanfiction #sam fender imagines

[sunshinemoonrx]

Cai, Bedwyr and company

So pretty much ever since this post about the original folkloric magical-warrior Arthur, I've been doodling designs for other characters surrounding him (and that real good art I rb'd yesterday kicked my ass into wanting to upload them finally).

Of the companions of the Welsh version of Arthur, Cai (or Cei/Kei) has to top the list. Most magical guy in the world. Per Culhwch & Olwen dude has heat and cold powers, he can grow giant, he can survive underwater for nine days. He fought a giant cat once. (It's actually kind of interesting that he later was adapted into the boorish, incompetent Sir Kay because of how amazing he originally was; it's the classic anime rival bit where you can show how cool your new OC, Lancelot or whoever, is by having him be better than the existing best guy)

I was already leaning into the "slutty magical anime boys" aesthetic and, with characters like this who only appear once the legendary Welsh versions of the 9th century on get into full swing, I felt more license to go further with that (whereas my Arthur and Trwyth look slightly more down-to-earth because they appears even earlier as small-scale local figures).

So my concept for Cai is that since he can generate heat from his skin so intense no rain can touch him without evaporating, by anime girl character design logic obviously he has to leave his back and shoulders and thighs uncovered since that's where I'm having his wings of magical flame project from.

The hair gave me a little trouble--I briefly thought I could give him two-coloured hair to reflect his heat/cold thing, but then I remembered one of the popular HeroAca guys is a two-colour-hair fire-ice-powers guy so I hard-swerved away from treading on those toes. In the end I settled on the MILFy ponytail at the bottom since it'd keep his hair clear of his back, since again, it's very logical and strategically important for the skin there to be bare.

The gloves and metal bands, meanwhile, are meant to be like a shadow the hedgehog power-limiter kinda deal, where he can take them off to unleash his full elemental power. That works with gloves but not really the boots, but I didn't want to lose the symmetry, but then! A piece of medieval Welsh poetry gave me inspiration for another function, and a way to make the design hornier I guess.

One of the Triads of Britain refers to the Three Fettered Men of the Isle of Britain: "Because horses could not be obtained that were suited to them, owing to their size; so they put fetters of gold around the small of their legs, on the cruppers of their horses, behind their backs".

Cai isn't one of the three, but in addition to his main epithet "Cai Wyn" ("worthy Cai", or "Cai the Fair", so it's important he's hot you see), he's also known as "Cai Hir" ("Cai the Tall"), which may be a reference to his ability to grow giant, and fits the 'reasoning' in the Triad. So the bands on his legs became fetters of gold, and my idea is he releases his power by breaking the chain to do his Ultraman rise.

A "crupper", meanwhile, seems to be like, an ass-harness? Sure, that fits the vibe we've ended up at. I figured that can be what he slings his sword from, and then spent...a while trying to figure out the logistics of that. So y'know I had to draw his hips and ass a bunch. For science.

As you can see, there's a couple of attempts to render the leotard as chainmail; one story, Rhonabwy's Dream, describes Cai as wearing mail of pure white rings with pure red rivets, which sounds gorgeous but I dunno how to draw white chainmail so I mostly gave up. He can wear one over the other, I guess?

In Culhwch, Cai (who is the best sword-maker in the world, naturally) forges a sword for the giant Wrnach Gawr, then kills him with it and takes it, so I figured that'd be a cool weapon to give him. Cai asks if he'd like it to be white-bladed or dark-blue-bladed, and Wrnach answers "whichever way you prefer"; we never find out what that is, so I thought an asymmetrical design incorporating both would be fun.

Anyway, here's another friend: Bedwyr! Precursor to Sir Bedivere, Bedwyr is Cai's constant companion, who "never feared a quest that Cai went on". Do Not separate them. He's the Fast Guy; though he has one hand, he can draw blood three times faster than anyone can with two; by the time you notice he's stabbed you once, he's stabbed you another seven times, etc. He's also noted as the most beautiful man in all the land (except Arthur, and one other guy whose name never comes up anywhere else).

I had kinda wanted to give Cai lots of hair volume but was thwarted by the bare-back thing so I made that Bedwyr's thing, and he's gotta be a spear guy given the above (another fun thing is his spearhead can fly off and stab guys on its own then come back to him). Another Triad calls Cai one of the "Three Diademed Battle-Leaders of the Isle of Britain", but adds after giving the three that "And one was diademed above the three of them: that was Bedwyr son of Bedrawc." So that's why they both have little tiaras, and while I flip back and forth on the look I settled on making Bedwyr's a little fancier and Cai's simpler to conform with the poem.

So that's how we arrive at what I consider my final designs for these two lovebirds (one poet tells us Bedwyr's death left Cai "heartbroken"); in the end I prefer the sword-harness just looking like a simple belt from the front, and I added some boots? Thigh-socks? Something?? to Bedwyr to break up the design a bit. The asymmetry of them to conform with his tunic's skirt is inspired by Marin from Saint Seiya, who really rocks the asymmetrical leggings.

And on the right is an initial go at Gwenhwyfar, precursor to Guinivere (and I try to respect the Welsh spellings and pronounciations generally, but I may sometimes refer to her as just "Gwen" in this case). I was inspired by a fragmentary dialogue between her and an antagonistic warrior Melwas (who spends half the dialogue trying to fight Cai actually), where he calls her "Gwenhwyfar of the deer's glance", which brought a vision of a spooky lanky cryptid lady with all-black too-long eyes to mind.

The battle of Camlann was said to be brought about by conflict between Gwenhwyfar and her sister Gwenhwyfach, and a blow struck by the latter to the former, but they might also be like...reflections of the same person's good and bad sides or something?? It's all very murky. In any case, I couldn't stop thinking of Gwen as someone who punches dudes, and the main other instance of that in Welsh legends are their versions of "witches", who wear armour and kill with iron claws. Gwen's mother is a member of the Roman nobility, so I thought fuck it, let's get real wacky and ahistorical and dress her like a cestus-wielding gladiator. Roman influence, iron claws, punching dudes, it all comes together.

Oh, and her father is a giant, so I drew a little Arthur to scale at the bottom to show she's inherited some of that too. I wanna draw her more and refine this, make her spookier (one Triad presents her as being three people? Or Arthur just had three wives with the same name? It might just be a pun? Unclear???) But for now, here's one final page of assorted stuff, presented a couple ways up for clarity:

So there's another Bedwyr; below him, the Cath Palug, the giant cat Cai fights in the poem Pa Gur, which I do intend to do a big funky monster design for, but much like Trwyth in the first post, I had fun doing a human one too. What, am I not gonna draw a catgirl when I can draw a catgirl?

From the other angle, there's Melwas, foe of Cai and Gwen mentioned above. He describes himself as young, and Gwen calls him a "lad of black and yellow", so I made him a twink with dyed hair, but I'll do a more full design later. Probably not before doing Cai's fight with the Cath Palug though.

Caledfwlch, the pre-Excalibur, I drew before, but I did a more ostentatious version here based on its description in Rhonabwy's Dream, where drawing it is like flames leaping forth from the jaws of the serpents whose designs were on it, so blinding no-one could look at it. I like to imagine it having the more humble look until the critical moment when it reveals its true form.

Aaaaand then there's Arthur on a motorbike. (You may have noticed there's one of these way further up in this post in one of the Cai pages) This is just me continuing to think about that idea from the last post about him popping back up in the modern day. Mostly what I orbit around is that he'd defeat whatever evil wizard he was summoned to deal with and then people would be like "so your job is done?" and he'd be like "what? no, the world is clearly in grave peril" and start running around destroying fossil fuel infrastructure. In fact I have a real hankering to make that a comic, but I'd need to be like, an actual artist for that.

So anyway the idea is he gets the spirit of his horse (Llamrei) to inhabit the bike, enabling it to do sick physics-defying stunts. Here's another for the road in fact:

(Wow, Cat, do you like Kamen Rider or something?)

#arthuriana #king arthur #catia learns to draw #culhwch and olwen

[stringyworm]

thinking about an oc kinda self insert because this oc is basically me but more designed to fit in the one piece universe to slash with kaku

like i fuckin love that boy i wanna hug him and take him away from cipher poll like my boi you can do better and ill make it so

its kinda evolved sorta written some parts but i dont wanna release it till its done incase i dont finish it…

i already have 2 unfinished ao3 fics on my account i dont need a third

theit backstory is tied with iceberg and franky’s cuz their mom was a work and business partner with tom and their family is just the two of them but theyre blacksmithers

like i know you need metalwork for some stuff on a ship and some ships have mini forges for fixing it up and u cant tell me the puffing tom wasnt created with some form of blacksmithing involved that wasnt just pure shipwrighting knowledge

i love blacksmiths if i was a fantasy character in a village i would be the blacksmitther or apprentice and become a journeymen to make my own practice or something if ur story has blacksmiths u can bet ur fucking bottom dollar im all for that shit and eating it the fuck up

anywyas yeah my oc is Wyn theyre a blacksmither born and raised on water7 grew up helping to build the puffing tom 17 when it was completed and yk shit happens. stays with iceberg to help build the city up and helps establish the metalworkers division in galley la but has their own shop cuz they like to work on their own stuff sometimes.

kaku and cp9 come in to infiltrate for the plans and kakus target is wyn because spandam suspects them to also know about the pluton plans. starts to work in the metalworkers divison to get closer to wyn because they still work eith galley la alot and in that division specifically (ofcourse)

and wyn is an honest type. wears their heart on their sleeve type whos easy with smiles and affection and yes charms kaku

its sorta angsty because he belongs to cp9 and cant have what he wants. planing to be slowburn

but all that blows up when enies lobby happens in canon and then at the end he runs away from cp9 and becomes the shipwright he always wanted to be (based on the drawing of him as a child happily holding a boat model) and they live happily ever after :) or whatever

thoughts? ill post snippets on here if people want or ill finally make a side blog for all my personal posts and one for reblogs instead of mixing them

#pgra2am but writing #pgra2am #one piece #kaku #one piece kaku

[wyn-or-lose]

[A package, about 1 cubic foot in size, it is held closed by a large sticker with a Koffing-motif (and a lot of duct tape)

Within is a large sheet of stickers with typical pet Pokémon like lillipup and rockruff . There are 2 jars in the package. The first jar contains occa berry powder, labeled "Tix' Occa Special". The second is a tea made of various berries and herbs, labelled "Natural Trichloromethane". There is also a box of home made cookies.]

At the bottom is a letter. It reads:

"Dear Wyn,

I hope this reaches you well. This is just a little something to make your recovery a little bit more pleasant. I don't know if you make your hot cocoa with water or milk, but both work well with my personal blend. As for the Trichloromethane, don't worry, it's really just natural ingredients. Drink a cup if you have trouble sleeping, but be careful, not more than 2 cups. It can be nauseating if you drink too much.

I wish you all the best and a speedy recovery

Tix

PS: Muffin can't get enough of Roxy, he loves that video you posted a while ago when she rummaged through your closet."

- @koffing-time

Oh, wow, you really didn't need to send so much. Thank you!

Roxy wanted to sniff everything and I'm pleased to report it all passed inspection. Solosis and Pollen took a look as well, but Roxy was the lead on this one.

[Attached is a picture of Roxy. Most of her is visible, but her head is inside the empty box.]

She's very dedicated to her job.

#pokemon irl #answering asks #wyn posting

[sprites-writing]

Chapter 14: Castles Crumbling

Freya POV, 1350 words kinda all over the place because this is a filler chapter, shit's going down next chapter ;)

heads up that there's kinda graphic descriptions of injuries throughout, especially concerning blood, tldr if you need it at the bottom :) also heavy talk of insecurities/self-worth issues

chapter 1 chapter 13

By the time the rain stopped, we were down on the beach, the stars shining in the sky as if twelve lives hadn’t just been destroyed. I stood a few feet away from the others, their distrust in me breaking my heart into a thousand little pieces.

Now that the adrenaline had worn off, the pain from my wounds was making it hard to stand up straight. I had a bullet still lodged in my left shoulder, my right hand was sprained, if not broken from how hard I had landed on it while trying to save Enoch and I had easily a dozen deep cuts from the glass. Blood was slowly seeping onto my dress, staining the green a reddish-brown.

“I’m sorry, Jake,” Fiona said, “What do we do now?”

Jacob looked lost, leadership obviously not being something he was used to. “I-is there any sign of Miss Peregrine and that Wight?”

“Gone. They must have had a boat.” I shook my head, the motion sending more blood out of my shoulder and I clamped my most definitely broken hand over it.

“We need to go after them,” Jacob said, stating the obvious. “We know he’s taking her to Blackpool.”

“But Blackpool is miles away! The next ferry doesn’t go for hours. We’ll never make it in time,” said Millard.

“Not unless we go by boat too.”

I snorted, “Where the fuck are we gonna find a boat?”

Turns out there was a boat. Mind, it was easily 200 metres underwater, but there was a boat. Slowly, we swam down, Emma blowing air bubbles for us to be able to breathe. Every stroke of my arms sent agony flaring up my shoulder and down my back, the bullet had done more damage than I thought.

While Emma worked on filling the rest of the boat up with air once one room was sufficiently dry enough for us to breathe, the rest of us slowly moved room by room through the ship, finding enough bedrooms for each peculiar to have two, the engine room and a room full of skeletons.

Before long, we all ended up in the bridge. The angle that the ship had taken to get out of the water resulting in most of us falling against a wall. Once we were out of the sea, Enoch came and stood beside me as we all looked out at the island. There was no guarantee we would ever come back, let alone live past tomorrow.

I did my best to avoid everyone, including Enoch, for the next few hours. The betrayal in their eyes was too much for me to handle, especially while we rushed to Blackpool.

It was like every single good thing I had done in the last nearly seventy years had been erased in a matter of an hour. Every night spent drinking in the village with Olive and Emma meant nothing. Every time I took care of Wyn and Claire meant nothing. Every afternoon I soothed Fiona when she lost control because of Hugh, they meant nothing.

If I had to see my family look at me like I was a monster one more time…

In a way, they were confirming all the fears I’d had since I was thirteen. No one could ever fully accept that someone they loved could kill them and anyone else in seconds if their control slipped for only a moment.

I will always be on my own. I will never have anyone for long.

Maybe it was a gift of sorts to have seventy years of being loved, even if I had to hide such a big portion of myself to get it.

My spiral of self-pity was interrupted as I turned down the hallway that led to the room I’d claimed for the night. It was a good few hallways away from both where the younger and older wards were sleeping. Enoch was leaning on the wall next to the door.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing, everything’s fine,” I said, trying to push past him to open the door.

“Sure, that’s why there’s blood all over you.”

I half-turned to him, “I can fix it.” I didn’t like being shitty to him but it would keep him safe and I’ll be damned if that wasn’t my top priority.

He raised an eyebrow, he knew damn well I was bullshitting, “You can fix a bullet wound with one hand?”

I sighed in defeat and let him follow me in. While he found a first aid kit in the bathroom, I pulled off my dress and my cami underneath, leaving me in a soft bralette and bloomers.

I had just sat on the bed when Enoch turned around with bandages and tweezers in hand. At the sight of me, his jaw dropped slightly, “I didn’t realize it was so bad, I would’ve annoyed you into letting me help earlier if I knew.”

To be fair, I was looked a mess. I had rebraided my hair after getting to the ship but the water had wreaked havoc on my curls and had left them in a mat of tangles. My shoulder had stopped bleeding, but there was still blood crusted from my collarbone to my bicep. There wasn’t too much blood from the glass but that was only because they were still embedded in my skin.

“Where do you want to start?” he said, sitting down gently next to me.

“Bullet. Probably not good for it to stay in there long.” He nodded and I twisted so that he could see where it entered. 

He unscrewed a bottle of whiskey and poured some on a cloth. “This is going to hurt like hell but we can’t risk infection, not right now.” Enoch wiped the cloth over my bloodstained skin and I hissed through my teeth at the sting. To say it hurt would’ve been the understatement of the century. It felt like it was burning through my raw skin.

After what felt like far too long, he had me lie on my back so that he could find the bullet. The tweezers were freezing as he dug through the muscle and flesh of my arm. There was a slight tugging feeling before the bullet was out.

“Here’s the little fucker,” he said, dropping it into my waiting hand. It was only a few minutes longer before I was stitched and bandaged up.

“Glass next?”

“Yeah,” I sighed, knowing that this was going to be a long process. Thankfully, it had been mostly big shards of glass that got stuck, the majority of the small pieces bouncing off me.

After another twenty minutes he asked “Is there anything else?”

“I might have, possibly, definitely broken my hand when I was trying to grab the hollow,” I said, scrunching my face up as I waited for his reaction.

Noch blinked twice, “What?”

I held up my hand. Two of my finger were at an unnatural angle and you could just barely see where one of my bones poked into my skin slightly. It was a miracle I could move my hand at all right now.

“Oh shit. That-that is definitely broken. I don’t know what to do with that.”

“Me neither. Maybe we could bandage it? So that it doesn’t get worse?”

“Alright, we can do that.” He gently wrapped my hand then redid the bandages on my arm and thigh from when Claire spilt her hot chocolate. 

God, I thought, that couldn’t have been just three days ago.

There we sat in silence, Enoch cradling my fucked over hand in his like it was something to be protected, like I was something to be protected, and I suddenly realized what was going to happen. We were finally going to talk about the elephant in the room that we’d been ignoring for sixty years.

“Frey—” he started and I snatched my hand back.

I shook my head, clutching my broken hand to my chest as I stood up. “I-I can’t,” I said backing away until I reached the door.

And then I ran.

TLDR if the injury talk was not for you: Freya begins to distance herself from the others because she thinks she's worthless after how the others (minus Enoch) reacted to the death-touch part of her peculiarity. They go down to the Augusta. General talk of how they confirmed the fears she had for years about not being accepted for her peculiarity and maybe it was a gift that she got nearly 70 years of them not knowing. Enoch fixes up all her injuries even tho she's been trying to avoid him. Enoch tries to get her to talk about their feelings but she panics and runs off.

chapter 15

#wdid #what do i do (when i love you so) #sprites writing #wdid revival #miss peregrines home for peculiar children #enoch o'connor #mphfpc #enoch o'connor x original character #fiona frauenfeld #horace somnusson #jacob portman #olive abroholos elephanta #emma bloom #millard nullings #claire densmore #hugh apiston #alma lefay peregrine #victor bruntley #original character #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #fic #my writing

[tidbitswithtoby]

Quick Reviews - April 2022

All 5/5 reviews are definitely recommendations. Most of this list was made before I started my review page so most don't have written reviews, but if you're curious and would like me to write one, feel free to message or comment. The bottom half are all linked with their written reviews.

All books marked with a * are unreleased books.

Rhythm of love - Neve Wilder

Dedicated - 5/5

Resonance - Did not read

Necessary Evils - Onley James - 10 out of 5

Unhinged - 4/5

Psycho - 4/5

Moonstruck - 5/5

Headcase - 5/5

Mad Man - 5/5

Lunatic* - TBD

Sons of the Fallen - Jaclyn Osborn - 3/5

Galen - 3/5

Castor - 4/5

Daman - 5/5

Gray - 3/5

Bellamy* - April 30th

Raiden* - October 27th

Alastair* - unavailable

For him - A.M. Johnson 5/5

Love always, Wilder - 5/5

Not so sincerely, yours - 5/5

Dear Mr. Brody - 4/5

To Whom it may concern - 4/5

Forever, Con Amor - 5/5

Flesh and Bone - Joel Abernathy (trans author) - 4/5

Exhale - 4/5

Bleed - 4/5

Shift - 5/5

Monstrous - Lily Mayne - 10 out of 5 perfection

Soul Eater - 5/5

Edin - 4/5

The Rycke - 5/5

Wyn - 5/5 - ultimate favorite

Gloam - 3.5/5

Moth - 5/5

Seraph* - TBD - Fall 2022?

Temptation - Ella Frank - 4/5

Try 4/5

Take - 4/5

Trust - 5/5

Tease - 5/5

Tate - 5/5

True - 5/5

Folk Trilogy - Lily Mayne - 5/5

Mortal Skin - 5/5

Forgotten Vows* - June 10th

Tbd* - Tbd

Vampire Kings - Loki Renard - 1/5

Predators - 1/5

Royal Pains

Pack Master* - August 5th

Moonshadow Den - Claire Cullen - 3/5

Run to him - 3/5

Run for home - Have not read

Overall Favorite: Monstrous series - everything Lily Mayne. Necessary Evils was the top contender until I found Lily Mayne. For Him series was sweet, the best 'normal people' series. I also really enjoyed a lot of Onley James and Neve Wilder's books.

#book reviews #m/m books #book review #tidbitswithtoby #gay book review #gay books #gay romance authors #lgbtq books #m m book review #mm romance #quick reviews #april 2022 #neve wilder #onley james #lily mayne #joel Abernathy

[leaderpinhead]

Delwyn - Building A Snowman

Delwyn fidgeted with his braid. The ends of his scarf fluttered in the cold breeze. The cold nipped at his nose and cheeks, but he felt more comfortable in the soft flurries than he would sitting next to a cozy fireplace in Pomefiore. 

He stared out at the field blanketed in a fresh layer of snow. He had been worried when a symphony of frantic knocks rang upon his door earlier. He had barely opened it and registered Rook’s wide grin when Yuu grabbed his arm. “Hurry, Wyn. We need your help!” 

Delwyn hadn’t questioned the prefect at the time, but he was beginning to think he should have taken Rook’s grin into heavier consideration. Ace, Deuce, and Grim ruthlessly bombarded each other with snowballs on the other side of the field, their boisterous laughter underlaying their fierce battle. Jack stood at the top of the hill by Ramshackle Dorm with what looked like a makeshift sled. Epel stood beside him, eyeing the sled with obvious dubiousness. Asher sat on the sled and blinked up at the two boys like he was waiting on them to make a decision. 

"Wyn!" Delwyn turned in the direction of Yuu’s voice. She waved at him from across the field where she stood with Rook, Sebek, and Merle. Three large lumps of snow were piled behind them. He left the safety of the gate and came to a stop beside a grinning Rook. 

Yuu dropped her waving hand to rest it on her hip. “We need your help.” 

Having four pairs of eyes focus on him with unwavering attention made Delwyn nervously pull on his braid. “How may I be of help?”  

Yuu pointed at the two frowning boys. Both were noticeably bundled in more layers than the others. Sebek’s nose was a shade redder than his cheeks, like he had been rubbing it more consistently. The bottom half of Merle’s face was entirely covered by a knitted, Diasomnia green scarf. “They’re saying their snowmen are better.” 

Merle huffed and batted away a few flurries that had settled in his pink hair. Sebek mimicked his huff and added with a voice a tad on the nasally side, “I am merely stating fact! Yours does not even have a button nose!” 

“We agreed not to discriminate!" 

Delwyn blinked. “I am not sure I understand. Do you need help making the snowmen?” 

“No,” Yuu said with a shake of her head. “We need your help judging. Rook said you were a snowman connoisseur.” 

Rook chuckled at the quick glance Delwyn shot him. “I have heard many stories of your snowy adventures!” 

The icy wind couldn’t chill the sudden heat in Delwyn’s cheeks. He would think twice about divulging any childhood memories to Vil again. From the way Rook was grinning, it was the more embarrassing “adventures” that had been shared. He cleared his throat and searched the area. “Where are your snowmen?" 

Merle pointed at the three mounds. “They’re right here. Mine is the one with the tie.” 

Merle sounded incredibly proud of the Diasomnia tie he had wrapped around the far left mound. Sebek gestured to the mound next to him, which had a small button planted on the top of it. “Mine actually has a nose!” 

Yuu pointed at the last mound, which looked like nothing more than a small hill. “I named mine Mo.” 

Delwyn made a tiny noise before he could politely hide it. “Oh, dear. Have none of you ever seen a real snowman?” 

Sebek sputtered. Merle scratched the back of his head and gave his "snowman" a critical look. “That’s how I saw the kids make them back home…” 

“Mo is a special snowman” Yuu answered without hesitation. Her eyes narrowed. “He’s a part-time crime detective. By day, he is a simple snowman bringing holiday joy to everyone who passes by him. By night, he searches for the perpetrator attempting to snuff out the enchanted fireplaces on campus, which led to the horrific death of one of the campus fire fairies. He has three main suspects: the head cook who obviously holds a grudge for his life ending too early; the librarian who’s hiding a dark secret; and the headmage, who is just suspicious by nature. He also has a snow lady on the other side of the campus who has obviously been flirting with him, but his grungy past has made him wary of loving ever again.” 

Delwyn slowly blinked. “Is the staff aware you are including them in your noir fantasies?” 

“We agreed not to divulge their back stories!" Sebek protested. He pointed at his button-nosed mound. “I gave you grace for revealing your snowman's identity, but I won’t allow you to take the advantage any longer.” Sebek smirked widely at Delwyn. “Behold, Zigvolt Junior! He comes from a long, infamous line of powerful soldiers. He trains endlessly to become a proper retainer for Lord Malleus!” 

Delwyn took a small step back in response to Sebek’s…passionate explanation. He turned to Merle as an excuse for his silence. Merle blinked at him. “Mine’s just a snowman.” 

Yuu leaned forward to look around Sebek’s puffed chest. “That’s not what you were saying earlier. Tell us his dramatic back story!" 

Rook hummed. His irregular silence had nearly made Delwyn forget his presence. “Please share your passion with us, Monsieur Corbeau!” 

Merle’s eyes narrowed above his scarf. He didn’t look like he could be moved by their eager peer pressure, but he soon said, “He’s a snowman who refuses to melt until he achieves his one goal.” 

Delwyn tipped his head. “And that is?” 

“To punish the evil Prince who promised him a life as a normal human before the Prince’s true nature was revealed. He now plots the Prince’s socio-political demise.” 

Yuu dramatically gasped. Rook just as dramatically framed his cheeks with his hands. “Ooh la la! A true tale of betrayal and revenge!” 

Merle’s eyes had become mere slits. “Anger burns hotter within him than the sun on his icy skin. Not even direct contact with the sun’s molten surface could compare.” 

Yuu and Rook enthusiastically clapped for Merle’s dramatic words. Sebek muttered under his breath. “I knew I should have added more emphasis on mine’s loyalty!" 

Delwyn hummed. He gave each snow mound a final glance before deciding. “While I am impressed by each of their origin stories, I am afraid I must disqualify all of your snowmen.” 

“Disqualify!” Sebek sounded more horrified than angered. “How could we be disqualified? I have never been disqualified in my life! How am I ever going to show my face in front of Malleus again?” 

Yuu hummed and rubbed her hands together. “Yeah. One of our snowmen should be a winner. What’s your reasoning?” 

Delwyn hummed, noting Merle’s slitted gaze was solely focused on him. He was beginning to wonder where the inspiration for the snowman’s background really originated. “Well, I can’t really decide a winner when...there’s not a snowman to judge.” 

All three freshmen gave startled gasps. Unable to face their shocked expressions, Delwyn turned to Rook. Rook continued to grin as if he had anticipated this outcome from the very beginning. There was that knowing glitter in his eye. “I am afraid I am just as confused, mon Prince de Glace. You must tell us what your standard for a snowman encompasses.” 

“Yes!” Sebek’s shock had transitioned into a fierce determination. “Tell me exactly what your standard for a snowman involves. I will not be disqualified again!” 

“I’m starting to wish I’d just stayed back in the dorm with Porfirio,” Merle mumbled, his voice more muffled by the scarf. Delwyn noticed a faint blush creeping above the exposed half of his face. “Who cares who can make a better snowman?” 

“I agree with Sebek,” Yuu said. “Tell us what’s wrong with our snowmen so we can make them better.” 

“Well...” Delwyn chewed on his bottom lip. He knew turning to Rook again wouldn’t help, and he certainly didn’t want to make this worse. “I suppose to begin with...a snowman at least has to have a head.” 

All three first-years simultaneously pointed at their snowmen. “It does have a head.” 

“Right there!” Sebek jabbed his snow mound with emphasis. “Right where the button nose is!” 

Rook chuckled when Delwyn caved and turned to him for help. The glitter in Rook’s eyes grew brighter. “Perhaps an example would work best in this type of situation.” 

“Yes!” Yuu agreed with a tiny clap. “Build us a proper snowman, Wyn!” 

Delwyn felt a slight bubble of panic in the base of his throat. “I haven’t made a snowman in years...” 

Sebek harrumphed. “Then your credentials as a snowman connoisseur were false. In that case, I demand we find a proper judge. One who has more experience on the topic of snowman building.” 

Sebek’s haughty tone dissolved the bubble of panic with startling ease. Delwyn felt himself prickle with the same indignation Epel displayed after one too many corrections from Vil. It was irrational, but Sebek’s words felt like a direct insult to the many memories Delwyn had of making snowmen with his younger brother as children. Yes, Delwyn hadn’t made a proper snowman in years despite Dai insisting they make them every year when they vacationed in the snowy mountains. 

That certainly didn’t invalidate Delwyn’s entire experience. 

Delwyn tugged the thin sleeves of his sweater up to his elbows. “For starters, you need a proper base for your snowman. Right now, all of your snow people look like tiny hills of mush.” 

Someone emitted a tiny sound of offense, but Delwyn did not allow himself to focus too much on the noise. If he did, then he would allow his nerves to overwhelm him again and prevent him from compacting the snow into a recognizable ball. He gathered up the snow to make a proper base for his snowman, allowing his nervous energy to translate into explaining what he was doing like he had with Dai years ago. 

His fingertips tingled with an almost refreshing bite from the cold snow. He could feel his magic fluttering to the surface of his palms, begging to be released. Another sudden spike of panic made him pause. 

A small duet of shouts made Delwyn glance up from his work. A large white dog shot past them, pulling the sled with Asher and Epel hysterically laughing. The sled kicked up a line of snow in their direction. Naturally, Sebek was the one to loudly protest. “Take your sled racing elsewhere! You risk damaging our snowmen!” 

Delwyn glanced beside him. Three smaller balls of snow were rolled up next to his larger one. They weren’t as perfectly round as his, looking more like various sided polygons than proper spheres, but they were already better than the mounds the three had before. Yuu crouched over the ball closest to him. She continued rolling her ball around to gather snow until she glanced up and noticed he had paused. She widely grinned at him. “This is already better than how we just shoveled snow into one spot!” 

Delwyn returned her grin with a small smile and continued the impromptu instruction. By the time a stray snowball from Ace pulled Sebek into their snowball fight and Asher had convinced Merle to join them on the sled, Delwyn had relaxed enough to give Rook a small shove when he expounded on the “lifelike quality” of the snowmen. After finishing the snowman with the carrot Yuu offered as a nose, Delwyn took a picture of it and sent it to his brother. The response he received was almost immediate: You can’t say NO the next time I ask to build a snowman! 

Delwyn smiled, and he only had time to send his brother a brief response before Yuu pulled him into the snowball fight with Rook. He didn’t stop smiling even when Vil arrived and forced him to pause long enough to fix the mess his braided hair had become. “I know you’re enjoying pelting the spudlings with snow, but you don’t have to look like a spudling yourself in the process.” 

Vil didn’t have much more to say about hair after Delwyn’s next snowball hit him square in the chest with deadly accuracy. 

#twisted wonderland #winter shenanigans #original characters #do you want to build a snowman?

[abriefingwithmichael]

Forever Knight 11

“Hunters”

Schanke goes into hiding when someone targets him for death.

Why is Forever Knight such a cool show? This episode provides many of the answers.

1. John Kapelos as Schanke. This man rules!! Kapelos was sometimes asked to play his role as broad comedy (which he did with consummate ease) but, left to his own devices, he plays Schanke as if this was an episode of Homicide: Life On The Street. In other words, he played it totally real. Yet, Schanke is very cool. Obnoxious and rude and a little bit stupid, but - let's face it - the guy is cool. And this is a Schanke-centric episode. Placing him in The Raven is a stroke of genius. The comedy is perfect and the conversation with Janette (about Nick's past) is gripping.

2. The Night Shooting. Since Nick is a vampire, he works the night shift and the show is filmed/set at night. Toronto looks awesome at night (I've been there and it looks awesome at any time, to be honest) and it has never looked better than in Forever Knight. If I could work the nightshift anywhere (as a cop) I would ride along with Nick and Schanke in Toronto. This episode looks great. I love the pre-credits scene (as the guys walk the night streets) and anything and everything that happens outdoors at night. Which is a lot of stuff on this show. Superboy was cool in a similar way. The last two seasons were filmed at night (in Florida) and it added something to the show.

3. Nick at the piano. Many episodes were 'padded out' with wonderful character moments for Nick, as he sat as his piano and pondered his lot in life. I say 'padded out' because I think these scenes were filmed so they could be edited out in certain markets (to allow for more ads, sigh) without harming the actual plot of the episode (as if they cared about that kind of thing). However these scenes are not padding in the classic sense. They are genuine character moments. This episode has one. Nick sits at the piano, plays with the flame of a candle and - later - drives around the city at night with some cool music playing on the soundtrack. Forever Knight has awesome music. Many songs were specially written for the series, and the actual score of the show is distinctive and wonderful, too.

4. The Flashbacks. Forever Knight was one of three shows to hit the air at the same time, which had heroes who were special in some way, and whose adventures were punctuated by flashbacks to their earlier lives. Highlander and Kung Fu: The Legend Continues were the other two. The Highlander flashbacks were lavish affairs which underscored the main plot or, in some cases, told a different story. On Kung Fu: The Legend Continues we were treated to little moments that added depth and meaning to the life of Caine. And on Forever Knight we tended to get bleak, sad views of past deeds which were used to explain the sadness that followed Nick Knight wherever he went. This one is a doozy. It shows Nick being hunted and - in a moment of frenzy - turning on, and taking the lives of his hunters. In a clever touch, we see Janette telling Schanke a toned-down version of the same event and the script clever uses the incident to provoke a discussion between the characters and, indeed, provoke Schanke into action.

It's also very cool. Geraint Wyn Davies knows exactly how to sell the pain that Nick feels without every making it self-conscious or false. Something it would have become on a lesser show.

The Nick/Natalie relationship is another example of why FK is cooler than Angel, Blood Ties or Moonlight, but since it's not featured heavily here, I'll leave my views on it until another time.

Bottom line: Forever Knight rocks!

#Forever Knight

[mengswe-blog]

Sketch to lineart!

So this is how I tend to start off a drawing. It's a hot mess on layer 1. I also REALLY exagerate anatomy. It's easy to trim it down, but it helps me see things. (Quick note, I’m using Krita and an XP pen digital drawing tab.)

Next is step 2, and it DOES look a lot like step 1, lol. I start a new layer and use a different color. Tidy anatomy, move some stuff around. But now I can kinda see what I'm going to want to change, where I want to move with this.

For instance, now I can see that I'm going to want to pull the chest up and out, which will give the spine more of a curve. There's nothing wrong with this, but that'll give the image more motion. Still thinking about that bottom hand. Probably I'll rotate it so its more side-on.

Oh, I didn't really address this, but I use a big, chonky brush for this so I don't get hung up on details. When I paint using my oils irl, I squint so I can only see big shapes of value at first. (If you’re dehydrated, this has the hilarious side effect that it deforms your eyeballs so you think maybe you need to go to the emergency room for a couple hours after you’re done squinting. Drink your water.)

So, this is steps 3 - ? because it's the wierd middle bit. I have enough anatomy down to start building outfits and details on, but doing that reveals more anatomy issues and frequently composition issues. So this wiggles back and forth a lot. Literally because this is where I start really flipping the canvas back and forth.

All the layers turned on for funsies.

Okay, so next I have lines, and they are mostly correct. You can see where I was like, "oooh, these are entirely correct" and started weighting them. Alas, there are still tweaks needed. Also, I made Wyn smaller so there would be room for magic. I always seem to draw things too big for the canvas, so I’m in love with that tool that lets you smoosh stuff down. This was, haha, a huge problem for me in art school when I was just using traditional media.

List of tweaks: The hair is wrong, and I think it's actually because the back of the skull is too big. I need to soften the facial featurs, and probably lift the mouth a bit. The biggest one is that I think the chest part of the chest armor needs to stretch down more.

Okay, so this next bit gets a little tricky to explain with just snips (why I'm excited to figure out the record function in either Krita or on my graphics card eventually). To make the above adjustments, I take the layer I want to tweak down to about 50% opacity, and on top of it, draw the changes. Ruducing the opacity of the below layer helps me “ignore” it a little, and drawing on top, of course, keeps the changes separate in case I have to revert. (Don’t mind my weirdo little notes about process and lore.)

Once I have some adjustments made, if I'm confident, I'll take the eraser brush at like, 30% opacity, and erase under the adjustment layer (blue here). It lets me see even better without destroying the work if I need to revert. The skull and chest plates show this. (The black arrow is pointing to an erased portion and the green is pointing to one where all I did was lower the opacity.)

Quick note about why Wyn is where he is. People like threes. So if you bust up a canvas into thirds vertically and horizontally, it's always good to put points of interest at the intersections. Wyn’s face, and his lower hand are about spot on. His upper hand isn’t, quite, but it’s close enough. I also want to leave enough “low value” space here for magic effects.

The last step before I have what I call finished line art is just so much fiddling with the lines. Make this one darker, make that one lighter, smooth this, make that pointier etc. Just a bunch of small adjustments. But at the end, ta-dah!

#trying to explain my brain process art digital art shotgun wizard i had to write this all down and think about it #oc #oc artwork

[hope-for-the-best-98]

Hold me Close

Benny Miller X OFC (Rosie Adams)

Masterlist | Helplessly Hoping Masterlist | Spotify Playlist

Summary: Benny has a PTSD attack in a parking lot.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: PTSD triggers. Talks of the military and mental wellbeing. Brief mention of domestic abuse & hostile family environment. Allusions to smut. (Please let me know if I missed anything!)

A/N: This is my first attempt at a Benny fic, and my first attempt at writing in a long while. This is a part of the 'Helplessly Hoping 'Verse' which will be written in non-chronological order in a series of one shots.

Thank you to @foli-vora for looking this over for me and just being one of the kindest people on this hell site. And also thank you to @wyn-n-tonic for a conversation we had a while ago about writing for yourself, because damn did Tumblr become shitty for a while (and still a little is). But here it is, my sweet boy Benny and his beautiful girl, Rosie Adams. Enjoy!

---

Shopping with Benjamin Miller is like shopping with a big kid. Rosie has her list, the essentials to keep them both fed, the house clean. But soon the cart fills with junk food, ‘Monopoly: Cheaters Edition’ and a projector on sale he found hidden at the bottom of a shelf.

It’s the last one, babe. It’s meant to be.

They have both got their arms full with bags, Benny chuckling next to her as he bumps his hip into hers as they walk out of the store. “So… We’re watching Star Wars tonight right?”

“You wanna use your new toy, hmm?”

“Maybe.” He grins, adjusting the bags in his arms. “Can screen it on the living room wall? Heat up some popcorn, fool around a little under the blanket?”

Before she can even respond a loud bang goes off behind them. It sounds like a firework, a loud snap followed by crackles. It’s harsh as it rattles through their ears. Her body tenses up, her arms gripping onto the bags as she goes to turn to look at it.

She feels arms wrap around her and she’s being pulled towards the ground. She hits the concrete hard, her shoulder taking the brute of the force. She quickly realises Benny is above her, his body shielding hers as his head turns towards the noise. His nostrils are flared, his chest moving up and down rapidly as he scopes out the area. She sees a car drive by, smoke spewing out of the exhaust as another loud bang echoes through the parking lot.

“Benny, baby, it was just a car backfiring as we were leaving the store. It’s okay. We’re safe. Just breathe. Can I touch you?”

His eyes dart down to look into hers, his pupils the sizes of pins as he nods his head. “I-it sounded like…”

Rosie winces as she tries to take the weight of her shoulder and she reaches up and wraps her hand around the back of his neck. She feels his body shaking under her touch and she gently runs her hand through his hair, moving slowly to massage his temple for a moment.

“I know, baby. But it’s okay.” She moves her hand down to his chest and his heart is thumping against his ribcage.

“Just take a deep breath. In through your nose and out through your mouth.”

Rosie notices a few onlookers by the store entrance and an older man walking towards them. “Just stay calm, okay?” She sits up on her knees and takes his hand in hers, pressing it against her chest. “Match my breathing.”

She takes a deep breath in, holds it a few seconds, and then releases. She sees Benny trying to match her as he shakes uncontrollably, his body trying to burn through the adrenaline. “You’re doing good, baby. Just focus on breathing while I talk to this man.”

His head turns quickly and she feels his body tense up again, his muscles bunching up under his henley.

“It’s okay, Benny. He just wants to know if you’re okay. Look at me.” She cups his face, forcing his head to turn back to her. She locks eyes with him again and notices sweat building on his hairline as he continues to shake.

“Can you tell me where we are?”

“Where…” He looks confused for a moment before taking a deep breath. “S-Safeway… We got groceries.”

“That’s good.” She smiles. “You picked up that projector, remember? We were gonna go home and watch New Hope.”

He nods, his hand reaching up for her wrist to pull her closer. He presses his forehead to her shoulder as he starts to gain control of his breathing.

“You kids okay?” The man asks as he stops a few feet away.

Thank God, she thinks.

“Yep. We’re fine, thank you.”

“The car backfire got you too, huh?” The man pushes up the sleeve on his t-shirt to show a tattoo of the American flag behind an eagle. “Spent twenty years of my life serving. Now I work at the recruitment office in the city. But still, loud noises can put me into fight or flight mode. Nothing wrong with it, son.” Benny reluctantly lifts his head from her shoulder and looks back at the man.

He’s met the type before. Serves for most of their life, finally retires only to realise they don’t have a life outside of the military. They feel they have no purpose, no drive anymore, even with their new found freedom. So they find a normality in military work back home, away from the early morning drills and patrols. They normally work in recruitment, helping to shape the new batch of young faced soldiers ready for deployment.

Something about the man reminds Benny of his father, or maybe who he had hoped his father would have become after retiring from the army. But his mother was left with a broken man, a man who would only get angrier with every bottle of booze he drank. Who would smack her around for trying to help his addiction. A traditional man who forced both of his sons into a life they had no choice but to lead.

I ain’t raising no pussy musician in this house. The men in this family fight for their country.

The conversation he had with him at 17 years old still lingers in his head, and it starts to makes him feel sick.

“Home.” Is all he can imagine to say before he has to swallow the bile down that climbs his throat.

Rosie squeezes his hand reassuringly. “I’ll get you home.”

“Now when you’re ready,” the man says after a moment, taking another step closer, “I’m gonna just pick up your groceries and I’ll help you kids to your car?”

“That would be lovely, thank you.” Rosie presses her lips into Benny’s temple. “Let’s get you into the car and I'll find something for you to drink?”

He swallows hard again. “Did… Did I hurt you?”

She shakes her head as she pushes back his hair from his clammy forehead. “No. Just startled me a little. But we’re okay. Tell me again where we are.”

“The Safeway parking lot.” He whispers. “We got groceries.”

“Yep we did. And you picked up the cheaters edition of Monopoly. Because I apparently already cheated at the normal one.”

“You always damn win.” He mumbles.

“You always let me buy Boardwalk and Park Place.” She teases, gently caressing his cheek. “Now let’s go and get in the car and head home?”

He nods slowly, holding onto her tightly as he pulls them both up to their feet. His hand runs along her arm, wiping off the dirt and gravel.

“I did hurt you.” He sighs, skimming his thumb across a few scrapes dotted along her skin.

“Honestly, I didn’t realise they were there.”  She turns his arm over and wipes off the dirt and sees similar cuts. “See? You have the same and I bet you don’t even feel them. I can clean them when we get home.”

She grips his hand tightly. “The car’s not even thirty steps away. I’m gonna get you inside and put some music on. I’m gonna get the groceries in the trunk and then I’ll drive us home. Just don’t let go of me, okay? You know I won’t let anything happen to you.”

She realises he’s burnt through the last of his adrenaline as he leans into her, his arm wrapping around her shoulders as he presses his chin into the top of her head. “M’sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.” She promises, looking back and nodding at the man. He smiles back at her and starts to collect their groceries as she walks Benny to the car. “I’m gonna run you a nice bath when we get home. You want those nice salts you had before?”

“They smell nice.” He mumbles into her hair and she smiles.

“It’s from the set you bought me last Christmas. So you must have good taste.” She rummages into her bag for her car keys and opens the passenger door quickly. She helps Benny inside and strokes his hair back. “You still taking nice deep breaths for me?”

He nods as she turns on the stereo and the Kings of Leon CD they had playing on the trip down here starts to play. “Do you want a certain song?”

He shakes his head as the chorus to ‘I Want You’ starts to play. “This is fine.”

“I’m just going to get the groceries in the trunk and I’ll get you some water. Are you going to be okay for a minute?”

He bows his head slightly as he speaks. “M’sorry baby.”

“You did nothing wrong, promise.” She kisses his forehead gently. “Now just focus on taking nice deep breaths. Do you want the door open or closed while I get the groceries?”

He pauses for a moment. “Closed.”

“Okay.” She kisses his forehead again and then his cheek. “I’ll be as quick as I can.”

She closes the passenger door as quietly as possible and walks around to the trunk. The man is already standing there, his arms loaded with their bags of groceries. “Thank you so much.”

“It’s no problem ma’am.”

“You can call me Rosie.” She smiles gently as she opens the trunk.

He nods, smiling. “Name’s Arthur.”

“Well, thank you for helping me, Arthur.” She takes a couple of the bags and starts loading them into the trunk. She quickly rummages through, making sure nothing is broken before grabbing a bottle of water from a pack.

She shuts the trunk quietly and turns to him. “Again, thank you.”

“Really it’s no big deal. You did a good job back there. This happen often?”

“He uh… Had a bad attack not that long after coming back. Neighbours threw a birthday party, it had fireworks so… I guess you can imagine. So I did some research, made sure I knew how to help him through one if it ever happened again.”

“He’s lucky to have someone like you.”

Rosie looks down, her nail picking at the corner of the label on the bottle as she shifts from one foot to the other. Lucky’s not the word she would use.

“I should be getting him home.”

“Of course. But here,” Arthur takes out his wallet and pulls out a card, “if he ever needs to talk about it, he can call that number or come down to the recruitment office. I work there most days. Might help speaking to someone with similar experiences.”

She takes the card and slides it into her jean pocket. “Thanks. I’ll make sure to give it to him.”

“Have a good day ma’am.” Arthur nods his head at her as he heads back towards the store entrance.

She gets into the car and turns down the music to get Benny’s attention. “Take this.” She holds out the bottle of water. “You need some fluids.”

He takes the bottle, twisting the cap before drinking half of it. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Thanks.”

She reaches over slowly and cups his cheek in her hand. “It’s okay.” She reassures him. “Things like this happen. There’s nothing wrong with it.”

“I know.” He says quietly, pulling her closer to press his forehead against hers.

She stays like that for a few moments, his breathing finally evening out as he cups the back of her head. She feels his fingers glide through her hair, his lips brushing against hers. “I love you so much, darlin’.”

“I love you too.” She whispers, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Let me take you home.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Benny finally feels like he isn’t on high alert when he is settled in the bathtub. His back is against Rosie’s chest as she strokes his hair back from his forehead gently. His body relaxes from the bath salt aromas, the copious amount of bubble bath she poured in, and the playlist they made together playing from her phone resting on top of the folded towels.

He turns his head to look up at her, his nose brushing against her throat.  “I know you’re gonna tell me to shuddup, but thank you for putting up with my shit.”

He hears her let out a sigh as she looks down at him, her nose bumping against his. “You’re right. I am gonna tell you to ’shuddup’” She presses a kiss to his forehead, her hand running up and down his chest.

He chuckles softly, his hand reaching up to cup her cheek. “Whatever you say ma’am.”

She traces her finger across his chest, drawing random patterns before he grabs her hand gently. “What’s on your mind?”

She bites her lip, pressing her forehead against his. “Are you sure you’re ready for the fight tomorrow night?”

“Babe, it’s two grand.”

“I don’t want you doing it if you’re not in the right mindset.”

“I can take ‘em.”

“Isn’t the guy like… Twenty-one?”

“Yeah. So?”

“Nothing.” She sighs, shaking her head. “Forget I said anything.”

They both lay in silence for a moment, Benny’s hand trailing up her arm before stopping suddenly. His fingertip brushes against the raised skin from the fall and he frowns when he sees the beginning of a bruise start to form.

“You still got that guy's card?”

She nods her head quickly. “Left in on your nightstand. Are you gonna call him?”

“I’ll… Try and call him in the morning before I leave for the gym, okay?”

She cups the back of his head, smiling. “Thank you, baby.” She kisses him gently and chuckles when his hand dips into the water and caresses her thigh.

“What happened to no sex before a fight, hm?”

“No harm in a little foolin’ around.”

She laughs as he sits up quickly, the water sloshing over the side of the tub as he cages her in his arms and kisses her hard.

Benny went on to knock the guy out in round three.

#benny miller #garrett hedlund #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #benny miller x reader #fanfiction

[pilothusband]

An Unexpected Discovery

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Pairing: Benny Miller x f!reader

Warnings: Established relationship, panty kink, sending lewd photos while at work, piv sex

Summary: A joke turns into a new discovery.

Word count: 2.6k

Author’s Note: Thank you so so much to @green-socks for talking me through the entire process while I wrote this, and for supporting my Benny Miller obsession. Sam is the absolute best and also beta’d this for me. Also huge thanks to @wyn-n-tonic​ who gave me the idea of how their “discovery” came to fruition.

The morning sunlight pours through your blinds, illuminating the empty spot on the bed, still warm from Benny’s body heat. He’s rifling through his overnight bag, bent over with his bare ass in the air, mumbling to himself.

“You having trouble over there, honey?” 

Benny straightens up and turns around, hand on his hip.

“I forgot to bring underwear,” he huffs, clearly frustrated with himself.

“Why don’t you just borrow a pair of mine?” you quip.

Benny gives you a wry look, but moves towards your dresser and opens the top drawer.

“Great idea, thanks babe,” he responds, voice laced with sarcasm.

You can only lay there and gape at him in horror as he grabs a lacy blue pair and hikes them up his legs, snapping the band into place as he adjusts himself.

To be honest, you aren’t that surprised he went through with it— Benny loves a challenge, and he often responds to your smartass comments by taking it to the next level.

What you are surprised by, though, is your body’s reaction to the sight before you. A hot wave of arousal shoots through your core and beads of sweat form around your hairline.

He’s not even hard and your mouth waters at the curve of his cock tucked into your panties. Your eyes are practically burning a hole into him, laser-focused on the trail of dusty hairs leading from his navel to the flimsy waistband.

Benny doesn’t notice the glazed look in your eye, too focused on looking at himself, spinning around in a circle to get a glimpse of his package in your full-length mirror. He cups himself in his palm and poses, smiling like a goofball.

“These feel pretty good on my balls, actually,” he huffs amusedly.

Benny turns back towards you and flexes his biceps, clearly trying to ham it up to make you laugh. When you remain silent, the grin slides off his face and he looks concerned, eyebrows pinched.

Until he realizes it.

Benny takes in your wide eyes, the flash of teeth tugging on your bottom lip, and then the little shit actually smirks.

“You like this, don’t you?” he asks, almost incredulous.

“They, uh, match your eyes,” you offer lamely, face burning up in humiliation.

“Pretty sure you weren’t looking at my eyes, babe,” he chuckles gleefully.

“Shut the fuck up,” you groan, hiding your face in your hands.

“Hey, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he chides, stepping closer to the bed to pry your hands away from your burning cheeks. 

“I like that it turns you on.” His voice drips honey as he steps towards your side of the bed, looking over you as you subconsciously shift closer to him.

Benny’s knees are pressed flush against the bed and his crotch is just about level with your face. You look up at him briefly and note the taunting expression he’s giving you, then cup your hand around the material stretched over his dick. 

He hisses in pleasure as your palm skates over the lace, feeling him swell under the delicate fabric. You're about to dip your hand under the elastic, but he steps out of your reach, eyes hooded as he squeezes himself.

“I gotta get to work, babe. Can’t be late or else my boss will kill me.”

He grabs his sweats from his overnight bag and pulls them over your underwear, effectively concealing his little secret from the world.

You could honestly kill him at this moment.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to send you updates to tide you over.”

“You fucking better, Miller.”

Usually you’re grateful that Benny’s job happens to be at the gym he trains at, since his boss knows him well and doesn’t mind when you stop by on slow days to keep Benny company. Today, however, you want to curse the universe for giving Benny ample opportunity to torment you all day.

The first picture comes in about 20 minutes after you arrive to work. You're at your desk, sipping on your coffee and checking your emails when your phone dings with a notification. You crane your head to look behind you before opening your phone, knowing exactly who is texting you.

Just a little taste.

It’s a picture of your boyfriend, giving the camera a small smile, eyes trained on the lens as his gym bag is slung over his shoulder. His shirt is ridden up a little, just enough to show a sliver of skin. His sweatpants sit low on his hips, revealing a flash of blue peeking over the waistband.

You type out a quick reply and pocket your phone, trying to focus on work. You fail miserably.

Benny seems to be intent on destroying every ounce of sanity, texting you updates.

I can see why you like these so much. The way they move against my dick feels amazing. Been half hard all day.

Thought about jerking off on my break, but I’d much rather come all over you later on.

I’m so hard thinking about you right now. No one is here and I’m palming myself under the desk. Is your pussy wet thinking about me touching myself in your panties?

You don’t get another picture until lunch. You’re sitting with your coworkers when the notification comes in, prompting you to stand up unceremoniously and rush to the bathroom.

Once the stall latch clicks into place you unlock your phone and almost gasp out loud. It’s a shot of Benny, most likely in a bathroom stall as well, and his sweatpants are bunched around his thighs. You can only see the tip of his hard cock peeking out from under the flimsy blue material. The picture quality leaves something to be desired for, but you can see his head slick with precum. He must have been teasing himself all day, getting himself worked up just for you.

You decide to send him a picture in retaliation, but all you send him is an image of the damp crotch of your panties.

Two seconds later, you get a text.

Fuck.

When you return to your lunch, you have to lie to your coworkers about having an upset stomach, which is slightly embarrassing, but it’s better they assume you have diarrhea than have them find out what’s actually going on.

The last picture comes in at 6:00. Benny is already home. It’s another mirror shot, but this time he’s only wearing the panties and they’re hooked to the side, his cock jutting out from the bunched material.

Better come over quick before I get started without you.

The speed at which you lock your computer and gather your things is honestly impressive. None of your coworkers question the way you fly out of the office, most likely assuming you were having another bathroom emergency.

Benny only lives about 15 minutes away, but the traffic gods have a vendetta out for you, so it takes 25 minutes to get there. You only get two knocks in on his front door before he’s pulling you inside and crowding you against the wall.

His kisses are ferocious, all firm lips and teeth. It seems his plan to tease you backfired, something you secretly gloat about in the back of your mind.

Benny grinds his hips into yours and you mewl, throwing your head back. He takes the opportunity to nip at your neck and suck a harsh bruise into the tender skin. Your hands make their way down to his ass, squeezing it as he rocks into you. 

“You put your pants back on?” you ask him, a little disappointed.

“Well, yeah,” he chuckles breathlessly, pushing your hair out of your eyes. “Don’t need some encyclopedia salesman to see me wearing my girlfriend’s panties.”

“Do they even have those anymore?”

He doesn’t answer, opting to nip at your clavicle instead, before hoisting you up over his shoulder to carry you to his bedroom.

He slaps your ass, earning a yelp, and deposits you onto his bed, removing his shirt.

“Where do you want me, baby?” Benny asks, skating his palm over the large tent in his pants.

You think, trying to force your mind to slow down for a moment. There’s so many images flashing through your head. You want him to fuck you, obviously, but there’s something else you need to see first.

“Lean back against the pillows,” you tell him. “Spread your legs.”

Benny moans at your commanding tone and complies, shedding his sweatpants on the way. Once he’s settled in, legs splayed out as far as he can comfortably manage, he rests his hands on his bare stomach, eyeing you hungrily.

“Touch yourself over the panties while I undress.”

He grins at you eagerly, sliding his hands down his stomach to cup himself, stroking at his growing bulge under the soft lace. Benny gazes at you with hooded eyes as you peel each layer of clothing off, savoring the look of pure want on his face.

Once you’re completely undressed, you slide over to him, placing a hand on his thigh. 

You can’t recall being this turned on in your entire life, you think as you stare at your boyfriend. His chest rises up and down with the labored breaths he takes. The one hand that isn’t on his cock is pinching a nipple.

“Play with your balls for me, baby boy,” you purr.

Benny groans, lowering his hand to grasp his balls and squeeze them lightly. He hisses at the contact and grinds into his hand. Leaning forward, your hands slide up his thighs, relishing the soft tickle of his leg hairs, then skim the waistband of the panties on their way up to his shoulders.

You kiss him softly at first, then swipe your tongue on the seam of his mouth. He moans into the kiss, tongue tangling with yours. His arm continues its movements, rubbing at the prominent bulge. You break the kiss and look down, and you swear you could come just by looking at him as he pleasures himself in your underwear.

“Do you like wearing panties for me, baby?” you whisper in the small space between your lips.

“Yes-“ he lets out a strangled groan. “Need more— I need you.”

It doesn’t take much to get Benny desperate and panting for you, but something about him begging for you in your lingerie has you practically dripping into his lap.

“I got you, baby. You can stop touching yourself now.”

He puts his hands down at his sides and waits, his eyes laser-focused on you to determine what’s next.

Lowering your face down, peppering kisses the entire way, you start on his neck, down his chest, making sure to lap at his pert nipples on the way— something that has Benny whimpering and bucking into his hand— landing an open-mouthed kiss on the soft skin of his abdomen. 

You love his stomach; it’s hard and soft all at once. Needing to taste, you nibble gently around his belly button. Benny is ticklish there but he fucking loves it, loves the sharp nips soothed by the wet heat of your tongue. Every time, he lets out a breathless giggle followed by a gasp.

You continue downwards, but skip where you want to mouth at him the most. Something that Benny notices and protests with a groan.

“Patience, baby boy,” you tut at him, pinching his thigh. He yelps at the sensation, but listens all the same.

Coating his inner thighs with your saliva, you continue to nip and kiss at his skin, slowly moving towards the heft of him. It’s almost dizzying, breathing in the scent of his arousal while listening to the needy little noises pouring from his lips. His hand tangles in your hair, not pushing at you, just seeking contact.

Slowly, you look at his impressive erection straining against the flimsy lace and mouth at it, moaning at how hot and heavy he feels against your lips. 

Benny swears, teeth clenched, but doesn’t buck against you like you know he wants. Your tongue darts out and licks a strip from his balls up to his head. The tightness of the fabric has his erection curving up towards his hip and you press your thumb into his hip bone to ground him in the moment.

Your ministrations on his clothed cock dampen the fabric of your panties as you mouth up and down his length. Benny is muttering out praises, some unintelligible, as he strokes at your hair.

Removing your mouth with one last lick, you sit up and look at the man before you— trembling, his chest heaving and covered in perspiration.

Carefully, you climb into his lap and bracket your legs around his, settling in before swiping your fingers through your folds, rubbing circles around your clit.

“Mmm,” you hum, placing your slick fingers in his mouth. “Think I’m ready for that big cock of yours?”

“Yes, fuck. Please,” he whines.

You slide your hand under the waistband of the panties and grasp him, taking him out and pumping his length before you line yourself up. Then you sink down, gasping at the sensation of him filling you up. Benny moans and grabs your hips, trying not to dig his fingernails into your soft flesh.

Once he’s buried at the hilt, you wiggle your hips to test the waters, then grind your hips down, starting with a slow pace.

You can feel the material of the panties under your thighs, something that makes you absolutely feral. You pick up the pace, bouncing up and down in his lap, breaths coming out in punched gasps as his cock nudges at that spot inside you.

Benny’s head is thrown back as he bucks his hips upwards, one hand sliding up your back for leverage and the other kneading your ass.

“Feel so fucking good, baby,” he pants, leaning forward to touch his forehead to yours. His hair is plastered to his forehead so you push it aside. He meets you with a searing kiss.

The kiss dissolves into shared gasps of pleasure as you feel a familiar tingle move up your spine. Benny can sense it and doubles down on his pace, fucking his hips into you as you gyrate into him.

“Benny, I’m—“ is all you can get out before you’re clamping down around him, riding out your orgasm as it sends tremors through your body. You can vaguely hear yourself crying out, the chant of his name spilling from your mouth over and over again. It crashes around you, turning you boneless. 

Benny holds onto your weak frame and grunts. You look down where you’re joined, seeing little flashes of blue when his hips buck into you, something that has you spasming around his cock. He shouts at that— then comes, filling you up with his hot release as his stomach twitches.

You both sit there for a moment, catching your breath, until you rise upwards, leaning towards him so your combined releases drip out of your spent pussy.

Climbing down, you watch Benny fall back into the pillows behind him, and can’t help but notice your blue panties, still bunched under his cock and balls, splattered with come.

You swipe your fingers through the mess, prompting Benny to look down.

“Shit, sorry babe,” he laughs. “I’ll get you a new pair.”

“Let’s get you your own pair while we’re at it,” you tell him, grinning. “Don’t need you stretching out all my panties with that huge cock of yours.”

Benny Taglist: @green-socks @radiowallet @marvelousmermaid​ @princessxkenobi @wyn-n-tonic

#benny miller #ben miller #triple frontier #benny miller x female reader #benny miller x reader

[browniewyn]

i think i look like exactly what a half-elf half-orc would look like

#shut up wyn #i am stereotypically elfy in that i am tall and thin and very blonde #but i also have like bulldog bottom canines and a septum ring and i can lift a man larger than i

[criminol]

The Murder of Ffion Wyn Jones

Ffion Wyn Roberts was a 22-year-old care worker from Porthmadog, North Wales. She enjoyed football and regularly watched her local team play. Ffion wanted to join the Army as a nurse.

In the early hours of 10th April 2010, Ffion was walking home following a night out at the pub with family and friends. She was captured on CCTV at 4 am. A witness living nearby reported hearing loud noises at 4.40 am followed by a dog barking. Just 10 hours later, Ffion's body was discovered in a drainage ditch, she had been beaten, assaulted, strangled and drowned in the ditch. DNA was recovered from her ripped T-shirt and the knot in the scarf she was strangled with.

Initial investigations resulted in both Ffion's brother and father being arrested, both of whom were released and cleared of all charges. CCTV and DNA results from Ffion's clothing finally led to the arrest of local factory worker Iestyn Davies. A huge amount of evidence was used in the trial, including fibre, soil and plastic analysis and the discovery of Ffion's handbag, which had been dumped with Davies' tracksuit bottoms. CCTV images of Davies walking his dog near where Ffion was found were also used. The evidence was overwhelming; Davies was found guilty and sentenced to life in prison.

#wales #uk #murder #homicide #crime #truecrime #truecrimeblog #true crime blog #true crime community #true crime case #true crime #davies #iestyn davies #iestyndavies

[willownoir1112]

Hiya everyone! Wyn here with today's White Rose Week 2021 entry, which is flirting! Now, today features a genderbent Weiss in honor of my friend CelestialPrincess, who could not participate due to scheduling conflicts, as well as for Akirou 02, who wrote one of my all time favorite fics, They're Yours Too! I hope everyone enjoys, and I will see you tomorrow with another day!

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Flirting

Ruby Rose can feel her eye twitching as the drunk white haired wolf Faunus man continues his verbal assault on all four of her tender, not innocent in the least, but still offended ear drums. It wouldn't be so bad if he was at least good at it, but even she's starting to think that it's impossible.

"Sho, you should gib me a chance, cause I'm… ummm…"

She's pretty sure he's trying to flirt. She's actually almost sure he's trying to flirt, and for the life of her she doesn't understand why! She's nothing special, just another non descript rabbit faunus stuck on an overnight layover in Mantle while trying to get home to Vale. Not for the first time since she left on this trip, she wishes she hadn't agreed to come to Atlas to meet James Ironwood on behalf of the Rose Weapons Corporation.

She especially despises being the Heiress of the company her mother, a successful huntress, founded after her retirement.

"I got it!" He grins drunkenly at her as he pounds a fist into his hand. "I'm not a dolt!"

She couldn't help it. She couldn't stop her hand from colliding with her face, then slowly dragging it's way down her fair skin in her… She's honestly not sure if it's because she's exasperated, or because her older half brother Xiang would be crying at how badly this guy can flirt. "So I should leave with you because you're not a dolt?" She asks, getting an enthusiastic nod of the head in reply.

"Not only am I not a dolt, but I'm also a virgin!" He declares in his eagerness, a goofy smile on his face. One that grows as he takes another sip of his drink, what appears to be a vodka on the rocks by the look and smell of it. And she's convinced he's had at least two too many.

"Look, I'm flattered that you want to lose your v-card to me, but I have to pass." She replies calmly, feeling her heart break a bit at the sad puppy look that comes across his face. "I'm only here for the night."

"See?" He declares as his drunken smile returns in force. "You can make a man of me, then you'll never see me again! It's a win-win!"

"Uh huh." She mumbles as she motions for the bartender to top off her own wine glass. If she's going to keep listening to this, then she might as well as go ahead and get buzzed. "What's your name?" She asks, deciding she needs to give the source of her irritation a proper name other than Drunken Wolf Idiot.

"It's Eis, and did you know you have really pretty eyes?" He adds the last wistfully as he stares into them, making her stare into his own sky blues. She has to admit, he has gorgeous eyes, and after taking a liberal sip of her wine, she has to admit he's not too bad looking. Now if only he could actually flirt.

"You're not the first person to tell me that, Eis." She replies as she offers him her hand. "I'm…" Before she can introduce herself, a second drunk with dark skin and wearing a fedora pushes him into her, making her spill her wine as well as his vodka onto her dress. "Awwww, oatmeal cookies!" She swears as she grabs a napkin and tries desperately to clean herself off.

"Hey, Eis? There you go buddy!" Fedora cries out before he begins to cackle drunkenly.

"Flynt, you dolt!" The wolf named Eis roars as he quickly turns and shoves him away. Meanwhile, giving up on getting herself cleaned up, Ruby finally makes a bad decision and simply motions for a refill. If she has to keep dealing with this crap, then she's going to be good and drunk. Besides, all her clothes are back at the airship port, which means she's going to have to find a twenty four hour laundry or something to wash said clothes while praying she doesn't get arrested for being naked in public.

So, as her Mama Raven would say, time to load up on liquid courage and then wrestle the Ursa to get your weapon back.

"Damn, I'm so sorry." Eis murmurs as he turns back around and frowns. She's pretty sure she's a mess. She can feel her soaked bra starting to stick to her skin, as well as her skirt sticking to her bare…

She really doesn't want to know if a certain part of her anatomy can get independently drunk as well. It's a constant struggle to make sure it doesn't get her into trouble as it is.

"Look, it's fine. Can you just tell me where I can go to clean up?" She asks in irritation as she grabs at the bottle of red wine and simply tilts it up, spilling the contents into her mouth and down her throat in a fashion that would have her brother and the rest of her friends cheering her on. Not for the first time, she wishes she hadn't had quite as much fun at Beacon as she did, and had taken her studies and training a bit more seriously.

Nodding, he offers her an arm. "You can get cleaned up at my place." He replies quietly, obviously a bit sobered up. "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it." She replies firmly as she glares at him. "And… thanks." She adds the last as her gaze softens. Offering the bartender her credit card, she makes sure he bills her for one more bottle of wine. If she has to keep listening to Eis's flirting, she definitely needs the liquid courage the fermented beverage provides.

Especially since he really is cute, and she's now tempted to lose her own virginity to him as well...

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"Wow, nice place." Ruby admits as the cab pulls up to the curb of a multi level apartment complex in downtown Atlas. She has to admit, he's been a polite gentleman during the entire trip, even trying to ignore the fact that her skirt has been slowly riding up her bare bottom to reveal it as well as her constantly wagging cotton tail.

"I live here with my twin sister." He replies as he struggles to look everywhere but at her exposed rear, while she takes another deep pull of the wine bottle still in her hand. "She works for the family company, while I am a huntsman."

This gets her attention. Her dream was always to follow in her mother's footsteps, but an accident when she was on a hunt left her with permanent nerve damage to her legs. Nothing painful, but still unable to use her semblance to its full effectiveness. "I was a licensed Huntress in Vale." She admits to him quietly as he pays the driver and gets out, offering her a hand out next. "Got hurt on a hunt, and had to quit."

He smiles sadly at her as she struggles to lower her skirt back down on her bottom. "My sister lost her sword arm during her last hunt. Her body rejected the prosthesis."

"Damn." She mutters before finishing the bottle, while struggling to stay upright on legs that are quickly refusing to continue to function. But she can't help but to squeak as she suddenly gets scoop up into surprisingly powerful arms, a smiling Eis looking at her.

"See? I knew I would sweep you off your feet before the night was out." He declares as he walks towards the door, the doorman nodding as he opens it for them.

"Finally! You learned how to flirt!" She declares with a giggle as she cuddles into his chest, enjoying the movement of powerful muscles obviously hidden underneath his dress shirt.

She almost wants to see them…

"I admit, there was more liquid courage pumping through my veins than blood at the time." He replies as he carries her through the lobby and towards the elevators. "But, I do believe we have traded places now."

"Ayup. And how can a beefcake like you still be single?!" She blinks as he chuckles while shaking his head.

"Willow, my twin, doesn't help matters there." He replies as the doors open and he steps in. "She firmly believes very few women are good for me."

"She's just being a good sister then." Fuck, he smells really good. And his wolf ears are so freaking cute! "My older brother's an asshole. But you? You're so cute I could almost eat you up like a tasty snack!"

Eis chuckles as he continues to hold her securely in his arms. "And you claim I'm bad at flirting?" He asks as he looks at her with those sky blues she's rapidly getting lost in.

"I'm drunk. I'm allowed to be bad at it." She declares with a wink. And then her sensitive nose catches the scent of spoiling wine, making her frown. "I stink."

"It's not that… WHAT ARE YOU DOING, YOU DOLT?!" She can't help but giggle as she stops unbuttoning her blouse to look at him.

"I'm stinky." Is her simple response before she returns to unbuttoning her red and black blouse, while the doors ding. But she can't help but to laugh as the white wolf makes a mad dash down the hallway and towards one of only two doors down the entire corridor.

Setting her down on her feet, she keeps laughing as he pats his pockets, obviously looking for a key or a scroll. Meanwhile, she finishes unbuttoning her blouse and slips out of it. And the look on his face as she stands there in just her bra, skirt, and heels, her blouse in her hands is absolutely priceless.

She can feel the warmth starting in her core. A warmth that won't be denied…

They barely get through the door before her lips are against his, while her hands work at unbuckling his belt. It's been a long twenty five years of chaste virginity, and her frustration is at a boiling point. She can feel her tail wagging so quickly it almost feels like it's going to fall off or go flying off, but she doesn't care. She's still fairly young, far from home, and he did present an excellent argument in that they'll never see each other again after tonight.

Ruby Rose is moaning within seconds. She is soon screaming within minutes. And Eis is full of shit if he's still a virgin in her eyes after bringing her to her first real orgasm ever. The first of many. But neither the rabbit faunus or the wolf faunus realize that she had moved a little bit too quickly, neither of them even considering using any kind of protection whatsoever...

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Eis Schnee awakens with a start, clutching his head and groaning in his discomfort. After agreeing to go out with his partner, Flynt Coal, to a local pub popular with travelers simply passing through, he soon found himself drunk and flirting with…

All he can remember is her brilliant quicksilver eyes. Those and how much he had made her scream as they made passionate love in his now partially destroyed bed.

Glancing at the opposite side of said piece of furniture, he sighs as he realizes that she was already gone, only the smell of her perfume to prove the fact that she even existed. Noticing his bladder and the fact that it is demanding to be emptied, he finally stands and rushes into the bathroom, groaning at the fact that despite her absence, she still left several bite marks on his shoulders and chest, including one that appears to have drawn some blood.

He's more than a bit concerned that she's mate marked him, but he soon puts it out of his mind as he smells the first aroma of freshly brewed coffee coming from the kitchen. Grabbing a pair of shorts, he stops long enough to put them on before exiting and joining his sister, Willow.

"Good morning, Twit. I see you finally took advantage of me being gone and punched your v-card." Willow, like him, is unusually tall for a woman at six foot, one inches in height thanks to their birth father, a Mountain of a wolf faunus man. With her long, ankle length white hair, brilliant ruby red eyes, and curvy figure, she is possibly the most highly sought after bachelorette in all of Atlas and Mantle, despite her missing limb.

"Indeed, dolt. It was nice having the place to myself for a change." He replies quietly as he helps himself to the coffee. Looking around, he sighs as he notices that, once again, there is no sign of the young mystery woman who came home with him last night. A few small clues in the fact that his own clothes are still strewn about, the smell of laundry detergent and fabric softeners cling to the air, and her empty wine bottle is still in the garbage.

"Then perhaps I should return to Vale more often." She replies quietly as she slowly sips at her coffee, the mug held securely in her sole hand. "I found myself having a rather lovely evening of my own with a particularly handsome man around our age."

"Oh?" He asks curiously as he sits next to her and grabs at the morning paper. "Please say you at least caught his name." He adds while opening it to the classifieds to look for a small hunt of some kind to stay busy.

"Xiang Xiao Long, my dear twit. And let me guess, you once again showed your lack of manners by not introducing yourself properly?" She asks while shaking her head in disbelief.

"I will admit to being quite intoxicated. So much so that even Dad would have been lecturing me."

"Ouch. When even Daddy would be raising hell as he calls it, you know you overdid it somehow." She admits as she sets her coffee down and checks her messages. "I wish the guild would leave me alone." She suddenly blurts out angrily as she throws her scroll across the room and into a wall. "Why would I take a contract now?! When I am a diminished weakling!"

Seeing the coming meltdown, Eis puts his own search for work to the side to wrap his arms around his volatile twin. "Be at peace, sister. I'll go have a word with the general."

She nods as she bursts into tears while clinging to him. "Is it not bad enough to be a cripple, Eis?! Is it not torture enough to not even be able to look at myself in a mirror without feeling like a weakling?!"

"Shhhh, you are not a cripple, Noiry. You are the strongest woman I know. Not many can continue on like you have, living your life as you do with courage and passion." He whispers to her as he rubs her back.

All thoughts of figuring out who his mystery partner flee his mind as he begins to rock his sibling gently, while she weeps into his chest with almost bone shaking sobs of sorrow. It would be several hours before he is able to return to his room to make his bed, discovering a bracelet of some kind left behind on his mysterious guest's side of his bed. A bracelet with a burning rose set in the middle…

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Ruby sighs as she settles deeper into her seat in the business class section of the Melta Airlines airship. After the events of her drunken night, as well as the rush to wash her clothes and get back to the airship port, she can only hope no one saw her walk of shame. Both of her mothers would kill her for pulling a Xiang, and Robin would be giving her shit for it for years to come.

But wow! What a night before all the rushing around!

As she settles down even more into her seat, while also curling up under the blanket she bought at the port, she is beginning to drift off when her scroll begins to vibrate insistently. Opening one silver eye, she begins to swear softly as she sees her older brother's grinning face on the screen. Grabbing an earbud out of her purse, she sighs as she puts it into one human ear and pushes the green button. "What?"

"Damn sis, is that any way to greet your favorite brother?"

"You're my only brother, thank the Goddesses, and I'm hung over."

"Awwww, poor poor bunny. It's been too Xiao Long since I took you out, hasn't it?" The older blonde replies impishly.

"Oh shut up, you obnoxious dragon!" Ruby snarls as she digs in her purse for some asprin or something to make the pounding in her head go away. "What do you want?!"

"I met someone."

"What's their name?" She asks as she motions to a flight attendant for something to drink, grateful the woman brings a bottle of water a moment later and not soda or alcohol.

"Her, thanks. I think I'm done with non binaries since Blake broke my heart and all." She can't help but to have a small moment of sympathy for her bisexual disaster of a brother. He had loved Blake Belladonna deeply, and the nonbinary panther faunus had broken his heart into pieces when they decided they were more interested in the fairer sex than him. Ruby and Raven both still have some choice words for the panther the next time they cross either woman's paths.

"Wow, an actual woman this time? You must be losing your touch with men again." She can't help but to tease him. She recognizes that tone of voice, and she wants him to stay positive.

"Correction: a black wolf faunus woman. A perfect black wolf faunus woman." She smiles at the delight in his voice, and quickly takes the headache medicine in her hand so that she can keep him on topic. "Tell me about her."

Ruby Rose keeps smiling as she settles back into her chair, under her new blanket, and listens to her brother tell her excitedly about this new woman he met while in Vale, while she was there on a business trip. At least until she realizes that her bracelet is missing…

#white rose week 2021 #ruby rose #weiss schnee #white rose #genderbend weiss #genderbend Yang #drunken shenanigans #bad flirting #good flirting #my writing #humor #i will go down with this ship