#I think he really brought out her big sister instinct

[queencvbra]

hi I’m back and I’m once again thinking about how the cobra kai student demographic shifted from being a bunch of outcasts all trying to gain confidence and find community with each other to a bunch of rich bullies who were chosen solely for their athletic capabilities as leadership went from Johnny to Kreese and then to Silver and how much that change in demographic further isolated Tory within the dojo itself

#tory in johnny's ck was very much like yes these are my people #then the people she's closest to all leave and other people she can actually vibe with get kicked bc they're not good enough #and she's left surrounded by people like kyler and his crew #she has a hard time trusting people in the first place but it's even harder when her teammates are the kind of people she tends to hate #but what was she supposed to do? she couldn't just leave. and she didn't want to cause any division in the team again so #she had to get along with them. or try to. #sure she's casually friendly with a few people like piper #but it's a clear difference from when she was hanging out with aisha/miguel/hawk/etc #the only person she let get close to her was robby. kenny to a much more minor extent. #bc she def got super protective of kenny #I think he really brought out her big sister instinct #anyway I'm just!!! tory getting caught up in the shift between cobra kai as it became more and more corrupted with no way to escape #that's the brainrot atm #⚡ about. ── ❝ 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨. ❞

[oneforthemunny]

yayo (remastered) |older!dilf!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: when your younger sister calls you to pick her and her friend up, it leads you to meeting her friend's dad.

this is the first chapter of the older!eddie remaster! title stays the same, i'm just revamping it :) you can read the original series here!

contains: age gap (eddie is early forties, reader is late twenties early thirties, all consensual), language, teenage stupidity of younger siblings (and their friends) lol, slightly mean eddie but not really.

word count: 3.5k+

“Hello?” A groggy, croak of an answer fell from your lip. Eyelids pulled together, weights of sleep held them closed, pressing the cool screen of your phone to your ear. 

There was a pause, nearly timid in response. “Hey.” The familiar tone ridded whatever sleepiness you still felt, kickstarted every instinct of panic, flooding through your veins, right down to your core. 

“It’s me.” You pulled the phone away to check anyways, Madeline’s name flashing across the screen, still decorated with a flurry of bright, smiley emojis from when she added them years ago. 

“What’s wrong?” Call it older sister instinct, maybe dread, but you knew by the tightness in her tone something was wrong. 

“Will you do me a favor?” Madeline sucked in a breath from the other line. “A big favor, like a huge one. Please, I’ll owe you one back forever, and-” 

“-What do you need?” You muttered, too groggy to be fully annoyed, legs swinging out of the warmth of your covers to the frigid wood of the apartment’s floor. Using the soft, purple glow of Roku Village on the TV, you stumbled around towards the light switch. “Are you alright?” 

“Yeah, I am. Well, I mean- like physically, I’m fine.” Madeline paused, hesitation filling the line. “Look, you can’t tell Mom or Dad. Do you swear?” 

“What did you do?” There was the irritation, falling with a huff of pure annoyance, one only a younger sibling could bring- affection and annoyance, blended together and pouring from your tongue. 

“No, you gotta swear. Swear on your life you won’t tell.” Madeline’s voice was fiercer now, that hushed tone that you were too familiar with. 

“Ok, I swear. What do you need? Why the hell are you calling me at,” You pulled your phone back, blearily blinking to clear the clouded sleep in your vision. “Christ, at two in the morning?-”

“-Don’t start.” Madeline rolled her eyes. “C-Can you come get me and my friend?”

“From where?” You frowned, stopping in the middle of the room. 

“We’re in Chestnut Square, you know the neighborhood that the Henson’s live in? It’s, like, two streets over. I can drop you a pin.” Madeline danced around the request. 

“Why are you there?” You knew. Of course you knew. It wasn’t all that long ago you were in Chestnut Square or near the Quarry by Lover’s Lake, sipping on wine coolers and shitty beers that someone got from the gas station by the high school that never carded. 

“Why do you think I’m here?” Madeline clipped in annoyance, a huff of staticed annoyance falling from the other line. “I’m at a party-” 

“-On a Wednesday?” You scoffed. “You couldn’t even wait until Friday or Saturday like a normal delinquent? On a weekday, Madeline, seriously-” 

“-Look, can you come pick me up or not?” Madeline snapped, and you could practically see her eyes roll through the phone. “I didn’t drive. Brielle and I got picked up and the guy who brought us, he’s… he’s not doing great right now, and we just need to get home. Can you please come pick us up?” 

The streets were a ghost town as you cruised towards the neighborhood, opposite from your downtown apartment. You had work tomorrow, an early shift. Madeline couldn’t have done this yesterday on your off day, or even Friday when you closed. Your jaw set at the thought, a burst of sleep deprived, inconveniencing annoyance bursting in your chest, burning with bother. 

Still, Madeline was your baby sister, difficult as she was, you were glad she called you. 

You followed the automated voice towards the end of the neighborhood, the house bright with lights and lined with cars. Madeline was on the curb, arm wrapped tightly around the girl beside her, steadying her sway. 

“Hey,” Madeline muttered, pulling the door open. “Thank you so much. Seriously, you’re the best.” 

“The best.” Brielle slid in before Madeline. Well, slid was generous, more like fell into your back seat. 

Brielle Munson had been Madeline’s best friend for years. A staple in her childhood, and therefore a figure in your own life. Countless sleepovers, birthday parties, you’d even carpooled them to school your senior year when they started middle school. 

As well as you knew her, you never took her as the black out on a Wednesday type, but your mother had often made passing, hushed tone comments about Brielle’s own mother. “She’s a little different. Kinda a wild card.” Your mother muttered to you one day, brows raising in a pointed look. You didn’t know much about Brielle’s family, never met them. Brielle always came over to your family’s house- you figured that was why. 

“Is she good?” You muttered, pulling the rearview mirror down, angling it towards Brielle. Her head pressed in slopped defeat against the cool window, forehead rolling over the cold glass. 

Madeline turned. “Brie, you good?” 

“‘M good, ‘m good. Are we gonna get Cook Out?”  Brielle slurred, cheek pressed to the window. 

You huffed, another thing to add to the mental list of Madeline’s inconveniences- cleaning your windows of the foundation Brielle left behind tomorrow. 

“Is she gonna puke?” You huffed, shoving the gear into place, rolling away from the front of the house. 

“No, she’s not gonna puke-” 

“-Madeline, if she fuckin’ pukes, I swear to God, you will be cleaning it tonight.” You sneer, eyes flickering towards the rearview to see Brielle. “I can’t handle puke, I will not handle puke-” 

“-She won’t puke.” Madeline huffed, arms crossing over her chest in annoyance. “Brie, don’t puke.” 

“I won’t.” Brielle muttered, slouching down the window. 

“She’s almost asleep. She’s good.” Madeline shook her head. “We gotta take Brielle home first. Take a right up here.” She pointed out the window. 

“Great, I’m the fucking Uber tonight, too? Madeline, I have to work in the morning-” 

“-It’s literally two minutes away.” Madeline rolled her eyes. “She’s at her dad’s tonight. It won’t take that long. I just have to get her back in her room- shit.” Madeline turned in her seat, tapping Brielle’s knee. “Brie, you gotta wake up, ok? You have to get back to your room.” 

“Nice.” You threw your hands up, irritation bubbling to a raging boil in your chest. “You’ve got to sneak her back in? How are you gonna do that?” 

“She snuck out through her window, chill.” Madeline rolled her eyes. “Turn right at the light.” 

“So, you’re going to do what? Shove her back in? I’m not helping you. I said I’d come pick you up, and that’s it-” 

“-Did I ask you to help? No.” Madeline snarled. “Brielle, wake up, seriously.” 

“I’m literally awake.” Brielle groaned, though her eyes stayed shut. 

“Where am I going?” You threw a hand out lightly. 

“Keep going straight.” Madeline muttered, body still twisted towards the back. “Brie, do you have your phone?” 

“I think so.” Brielle muttered, lazily patting herself before turning towards the seat. “Oh, ‘s right here.” 

“Turn left into this neighborhood. Then at the stop sign take a right, her house is on the corner.” Madeline turned back towards you. 

You flicked the turn signal on with dramatic irritation, gliding into the neighborhood to the small house on the corner of the street, the edge of the cul de sac. Bloomington Lane, the street sign stood proudly above the stop sign at the edge of the road. 

“Cut your lights.” Madeline muttered, climbing over the center console towards the back of the car. You felt like you were in high school again, flooding of your own memories, sneaking your friends back inside, coming through the unlocked window in the guest room. Watching Madeline help Brielle, crouched over her trying to get her sober enough to walk, it felt like a lifetime and yesterday all at once. 

Your reminiscent memories were cut short when the porch light flicked on, a blinding cast of warm light cutting through the calm, dark of the street. 

“Shit,” Madeline hissed, wide eyed and caught, looking out the window. “Shit, shit, shit, Brie, you gotta get up. You gotta get up for real, your dad is here, Brie.” 

“No, he’s asleep.” Brielle muttered, head lolling back against the seat drunkenly. 

“Madeline.” You hissed, eyes cutting towards the porch, a silhouette of a man stalking furiously towards you. You weren’t sure if you should look, turn away, drive away, a sweaty, knuckled grip on the steering wheel. 

“Fuck, that’s Brielle’s dad.” Madeline whispered. 

“Madeline,” You growled through gritted teeth. “What the fuck-” You jumped, bare knuckles rapping furiously on your window. Through the glare of the radio on your window, you could see him on the other side. 

“Hi,” You squeaked, rolling down the window. “Sorry, I-I’m just-” 

“-Who the fuck are you?” His voice boomed, sharp and cutting as the look on his face. You flinched under the tone. 

“I-I,-” 

“-Hi, Mr. Munson.” Madeline peeked timidly around your seat. His dark eyes flicked towards her, still narrowed in intimidating challenge. “We’re just, we’re bringing Brielle home.” Madeline’s voice shook, though she tried to swallow it, steady it. “This is my sister.” 

You waved, tongue too thick and swollen to say anything. Now you really felt like you were in high school again, scared shitless, caught like a deer in blinding headlights by a furious parent. 

“She came and got Brielle and I.” Madeline didn’t offer any more explanation, instead nodding towards Brielle. 

“The fuck is wrong with her?” The spitting venom in his tone made you jump. 

“She-She just had too much to drink.” You stammered, hands still gripping the wheel. 

He tore open the backseat door, Madeline holding Brielle to keep her from falling limply out onto the concrete. “What is wrong with her? Did someone drug her?” He snapped, holding Brielle carefully. 

“No, no, n-no, I was there with her all night. We brought our own-” Madeline cringed at the glare Mr. Munson gave her. You cringed for her. “She didn’t get drugged. I-I made sure. I watched her, she just… she had too much to drink, Mr. Munson, I’m so sorry.” 

“Where’d you get it from?” He sneered, pulling his daughter out of the car with a gritted grunt. “You buy it for them?” His eyes were back on you, so harsh it had you jumping. 

“No.” You and Madeline squeaked in unison. 

“I just came and-and got them-” 

“-I called her to make sure she’d get us home safe.” Madeline added, head bobbing furiously in a nervous nod. 

“Yeah.” You looked at Madeline, then back at the fuming man. Brielle sliding in his arms, limp in his hold. “Here, I-I can help you get her in-” 

“-No.” He sneered, pulling Brielle up, ignoring her muttered huffs of protest. “I don’t need your help. You’ve done enough tonight.” You felt small under his glare, biting tone that had you shrinking into your seat. 

“I-I’m really sorry.” You muttered nervously, heart drumming with adrenaline, with fear. You didn’t know why you were apologizing, if anything, you’d made the one smart decision of the night. You thought Mr. Munson might appreciate that you’d gone to bring his daughter home safe. 

The narrowed eye glare he tossed you before he was dragging Brielle towards the house, told you he did not appreciate your vigilant efforts. Your face drained, a flush of heat and icy fear sinking in the pit of your stomach. He slammed the door so hard, you were surprised the glass swinging door didn’t shatter to pieces right there on the porch. 

You turned to Madeline, fists still clenched around the steering wheel. “You owe me. You owe me so much more now, like forever. For the rest of your life.” You sneered, shoving the gear shift into drive, peeling off the curb. You couldn’t get away from Bloomington Lane fast enough. 

“You alright?” Lydia’s brows furrow at your third- fourth yawn of the shift. A shift that had just begun, your teeth ground tight in annoyance. 

“Yeah.” You nodded, snapping the receipt cover down. “Is there any way I could get off register? I’m just super tired. My brain’s not really wanting to work this morning.” 

“Yeah, for sure. You sure you’re alright?” Lydia’s head tilted to the side, snapping the plastic lid to the latte expertly. You and Lydia Allcott had practically grown up together, been in school since Kindergarten. It was lucky, you guessed, that she was your manager. Perks of a small town like Hawkins. 

“Yeah, I’m just exhausted. I was up all night because Madeline is a moron. Snuck out and I had to drive her and her friend home, and then her friend’s dad was waiting outside when she got  home- it’s just been a night, honestly.” You rubbed the base of your neck, working out a knot that was already beginning to form from your restless night. 

Lydia sucked in a breath. “Oh,” She shook her head. “I forget you have a younger sister.” 

You snort lightly, pouring the steaming dark roast into the cup. “Yeah, me too. Until she does something stupid like that.” 

Lydia smirked, sliding the drink down the bar. “Brooke just got here. Tell her to hop on register, and you can go clean the tables.” 

You had never been so happy to be carrying the soapy, black bucket out on the floor, sudsy rag dragging slowly across the empty tables. It was slow for a Thursday, the morning school and work rush dwindled down to a ghost town. Not that you were complaining. 

The bell trilled over the door behind you, Brooke’s cheery, fake greeting echoing through the store. You didn’t turn, pushing the rag over the table, dunking it back in the bucket, wringing it out, and repeating. A rhythmic task that had your mind numbed, zoned in brainlessly from table to table. 

“Hi.” You jumped slightly, soapy water spilling over the lip of the bucket onto the table.

Your posture straightened, turning with the expectancy of a customer wanting some specific table cleaned that you hadn’t yet got to. Instead, you were met with a familiar pair of dark eyes, not as furious as they’d been last night but burning even in the low light of the cafe. 

“Hi.” You squeaked, gripping the rag in your hand, the water dripping between your fingers. “Um, wha-what can I help you with, Mr. Munson?” Fuck, he’d come back to scream some more. And at your work? How did he even know? You didn’t even have it on Facebook. 

You were shocked when his lips twitched, a faint pull of smirk on his lips. “I don’t mean to bother you.” He started, hand wrapped around the small cup in his hand. “I’m not here to- I’m here to apologize.” 

You couldn’t speak, tongue stupidly thick in your mouth again. Instead you nodded, a soft bob of your head. “And I wanted to thank you for bringing Brielle home last night. For making sure she got home alright. She could have…” He shook his head, looking over at the window. 

“She could have done something stupid, and I’m glad you were there so she didn’t.” Your heart leapt when his eyes met yours again, a pounding in your ears that rang through your whole body. 

“I-It’s really no problem.” You stuttered, voice wavering on embarrassingly unsure. 

“No, it means a lot, and I was a complete ass to you last night, and I’m here to say I’m sorry for that.” Your eyes lingered over the patch on his coveralls, a cursive, embroidered ‘Eddie’ over the faded blue patch. 

“I shouldn’t’ve been such a dick, but you go to say goodnight to your kid, and there’s a pile of pillows instead, and- I know you don’t get it. You’re too young.” He motioned at you casually. Your cheeks burned, looking down at your bucket, hand still stupidly gripping the rag under the water. 

“But y’know, if you have kids of your own, you’ll get it.” Eddie continued, his own ramblings a little rushed. Was he nervous? 

“Yeah- I mean, i-it really was no issue. I’m glad she got home safe.” You smiled softly at him. 

A pause fell between the two of you, both of you shifting a little uncomfortably at it. “I hope this isn’t weird.” You looked at him. “Me coming here. I asked Brielle where you worked so I could apologize.” 

“No, it’s- thank you. You didn’t need to apologize, I mean. I get why you were mad, I do.” You cringed inwardly at your own nervous rambling. “But, um, I appreciate it. You apologizing, I mean. I’m glad she got home safe.” 

Eddie nodded, fingers curling around his drink. “Me too.” He nodded. “Glad she has Madeline too, to look after her. That they’re friends. I mean, Brie’s always been good at makin’ friends. She’s really talkative.” Your heart swelled lightly at the way he lit up when he talked about Brielle, boasting with pride and joy. It tugged on your own heart strings. 

“Yeah, Madeline is too. She loves Brie, though. Brielle sees her more than me.” You giggled lightly. 

Eddie snorted softly, lips curling in a grin. “Yeah, you too? Thought it was just me.” He shook his head, curls bouncing lightly. You tried not to stare. “Makes me feel a little better, then. At least I know it’s not all me.” 

You weren’t sure what to say, offering a nervous smile and soft giggle, adjusting the bucket on your hip. That familiar pause of silence flooded back between the two of you, not as uncomfortable as before but still hinting at discomfort. 

“So, I wanted to say thank you, and sorry for being such an asshole.” Eddie nodded, foot tapping lightly against the floor. “But, uh, I’d really like to make it up to you.” Your eyes lifted, snapping towards his own gaze carefully. 

“I'd like to treat you to dinner if you're free. Just to show my appreciation for keeping my girl safe.” Eddie started, eyes watching yours carefully. 

Your heart hammered, breath caught- strangled in your throat. “Oh,” You managed to squeak out. “That would be f-fine.” Your head was still spinning before you could register what you were even saying. 

Saying yes to Brielle’s dad? Her father, much older than you, certainly than the type of man you usually let take you to dinner. Still, he wasn’t unattractive. Coverall sleeves rolled enough to see his inked arms, chest broad under the thick material. He didn’t look old, not shriveled and gross. He was nice to look at, even. You certainly didn’t mind looking at him. 

“I-I have to close tomorrow, but I’m free Saturday night.” Your heart jumped, shocked at your own boldness. Eddie’s brows lifted slightly, lips curling on the edge of a grin. “If you’re available, of course. Sorry, I- when works best for you?” 

“Saturday night is perfect.” Eddie’s voice was calm, a steady tone that had your rattled nerves soothing, at least to a low roar in your chest. 

“Great.” You smiled, a little too eager, far less cool than you would have liked. Why were you so nervous? Maybe excited?

“Um, let me give you my phone number?” It sounded more like a question, setting the bucket on the table, wiping your wet, dripping hand on your black apron. You fished a pen out of the pocket, hoping Eddie couldn’t see the way your hands trembled lightly, buzzing with giddy excitement. 

“And you can just text me a-and let me know where to meet you.” You pulled a napkin out of the dispenser, chin dunking to write your digits on the thin paper. 

“I’ll pick you up.” Eddie nodded. Your gaze lifted to him, the finality in his tone, firm but oddly not pushy? It was foreign to you, sent bolts of exhilaration trickling through your spine. 

You started to protest, lips pulling in a slight frown. Eddie shook his head. “I’m old school, sweetheart. I’ll come and get you.” He smiled, eyes much warmer than you’d seen them, the hinting of dimples creasing underneath his stubble. 

Your knees tensed, swallowing down a bubbling of nervous giggles, giving a wide smile instead. Your fingertips brushed when you handed him the napkin, a featherlight touch that had your body roaring with fever. 

“I’ll see you Saturday.” Eddie smiled, so effortlessly cool it made your stomach flip-flop. “You don’t work too hard now, y’hear?” He teased, tossing you a wink that did pull out the nervous giggles you couldn’t swallow down this time. 

"Bye." You waved, the rag in your hand flopping against your wrist, cringing when the droplets hit your face. Eddie waved back, tucking the napkin in his pocket before he disappeared out the double doors. 

The drag in your feet was replaced with a springing pep in your step. Greeting customers with a cheery smile, much less dreadful than your usually forced one. Even the huffy soccer moms ordering with the usual demanding entitlement that would have you gritting your teeth. It didn’t bother you, chest light and airy with excitement, mind racing with giddy excitement about your date.

#oneforthemunny #munnytalks #older!eddie munson x bunny #older!dilf!eddie #older!dilf!eddie munson #older!eddie munson x reader #older!eddie munson #older!eddie #dilf!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson fluff #dad!eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie my love <3 #eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson au #eddie munson au #remaster #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader angst #eddie munson x fem!reader angst #eddie munson angst #stranger things 4 #stranger things #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic

[milaisreading]

could you do a sae itoshi x isagi sister where she sprained her ankle and sae was very worried and overprotective of her please

🌱🩷: Here you go! Thanks for the request 🩷🌱

Warnings: Reader uses she/her. Requests are open

⚽️Blue Lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura ⚽️

Sae Itoshi was usually someone who trusted his gut instincts the best, they were right all the time. So, when he woke up that morning feeling like something bad had happened to someone, or will happen, he felt odd. He barely paid attention to others, aside from a few close people, so why would he be worried for no reason? Sae shook those thoughts away in the beginning and did his usual morning routine. He was back in Japan for the next 2 weeks, so he planned on enjoying the time he had with his family, and try to make amends with Rin.

'Aww! Look at how cute that big brother is with his little brother. So adorable.' Sae blushed and glared at the wall as he remembered (Y/n)'s gushing over the duo they noticed in the park the other day.

'There is no way a nobody will outdo me.' He huffed and grabbed his phone, expecting a message or two from (Y/n),but to his surprise there was nothing. Sae sighed and put the phone away, thinking that maybe it was still too early for her to be awake.

'She needs as much sleep as possible.'

"Why is she not sending me anything? It's already 11." Sae sighed in frustration as he scrolled through his phone, hoping he might have missed a notification, but nothing. So, without really thinking the boy dialed her phone number and waited for a while for (Y/n) to pick up his call. And, after 7 rings, the older Isagi finally answered.

"Hello? Sae?"

"(Y/n), hey! How have you been?" The boy cleared his throat, waiting for an answer from her.

"I have been fine. And you? Did you need something?"

"Good, good. Uhm, say do you want to hang out today?" Sae asked nervously, waiting for an answer.

"I am sorry, Sae. I really can't walk around much for the next few days. Maybe another time."

Her explanation caused the boy's alarm bells to ring, already thinking the worst.

"What do you mean?"

"Ah... this is embarrassing. But, I was helping a neighbor carry something inside and hurt my ankle in the process. Don't worry though, it's nothing serious-"

(Y/n) stopped talking as she heard the line go silent, realizing Sae had ended the call. It was weird, but she didn't think much of it.

'Maybe his mom called him for something.'

"Sis! Don't walk around like that, I could have brought you the water." Yoichi said as he saw (Y/n) in the kitchen.

"Don't worry, Yo-chan. It's nothing serious."

2 hours later, (Y/n) had forgotten about her phone call with Sae and was just watching TV while Yoichi was in his room while her parents  were out buying something. It was a peaceful afternoon, that is until she heard the doorbell ring.

"Hm? We aren't expecting anyone as far as I know." She muttered while slowly walking to the door and opening it.

"Sae? What are you doing all the way in Saitama? And what's with the flowers and bags." The boy looked at her in confusion before that slowly morphed into panic.

"Why are you standing?! You could injure yourself even more!" Sae said as he took off his shoes and walked inside.

"You are worrying too much. I will be fine. Besides, I need to move to get my things-"

"Not anymore! We need to get you to bed." Sae grumbled as he put the stuff down, picked her up, and carried her to the bedroom.

"I am not in life threatening conditions, Sae. I will be fine." (Y/n) grumbled, face red in embarrassment. Sae ignored her protest as he put her in bed.

"Now, stay in here while I get you something to eat. Do you want anything to drink?" (Y/n) sighed at his persistence.

"You won't leave any time soon, right?"

"Nope." Sae nodded his head.

"I am fine with a glass of water, then."

She watched as the boy nodded his head and walked out of her bedroom.

"He is so dramatic. It's just a minor injury."

Sae was now in the kitchen preparing some of the snacks he brought, millions of thoughts racing through his head.

'What would have happened if I didn't come? She could have fallen down and hurt her foot again. She could have hurt her cute face. She could be crying now in pain with nobody to help her.' Sae shuddered as he brought the food and drinks to (Y/n)'s room, only to nearly have a heart attack when he saw her out of bed.

"Why are you not in bed?" Sae asked as (Y/n) looked at him in surprise as she stood near her desk.

"I just wanted to get my phone, I got a message on it- Where did all the food come from?" (Y/n) asked in surprise, unfamiliar with a lot of the snacks he brought. Sae, not happy with the answer, put the tray down and walked to where she was and carried her to her bed.

"Should have waited for me to get it for you. You might get hurt."

"I am not dying-"

"I don't care. You need to rest. Eat now." Sae said, handing her a random snack item to get the phone.

"You really worry too much. Shouldn't you focus on resting before you return to Spain?" (Y/n) asked in worry as the boy shook his head.

"I rested enough. Do you need anything else?"

"N-no." She stuttered out, still embarrassed by the attention he was giving her.

And that was pretty much how the rest of her day went on. Sae would sit near the bed as (Y/n) talked about random things, with the footballer chiming in from time to time. If she needed to get anything or go somewhere, Sae would either pick it up or carry her to the spot. Yoichi, who walked into the room a few times was greeted with a warning glare by Sae and the older observing his interactions with (Y/n).

'He acts like I will hurt her.' Yoichi would think to himself, but he knew his sister was safe with Sae, so he didn't say much.

"This is so adorable." Iyo squealed silently as she, Yoichi, and Issei spied on the duo. Issei and Yoichi said nothing, looking at each other in confusion.

"Do you think it's ok to leave them alone?" Issei asked, earning a nod from Iyo.

"Sae is a good kid. (Y/n) is safe with him. He reminds me of a worried mother hen." Iyo giggled as Yoichi held back a laughter.

'More like a guard dog.' The youngest thought.

#bllk #blue lock anime #blue lock manga #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock scenarios #blue lock requests #sae itoshi #sae itoshi x reader #sae itoshi x y/n #isagi's sister #bllk sae #blue lock sae

[gayerthanevertbh]

labyrinth

pairings: older!natasha x young!reader

warnings: g!p natasha romanoff, oral sex, cum swallowing, and dirty talk - MINORS DNI.

summary: your sister cheated on her wife, so the broken wife takes an interest in you instead. was everything just a rebound between the two of you? or is there something more?

notes: i want to make this a series but i don’t know yet, i want to hear your opinion on this one shot first before i do anything else. i hope you enjoy reading!

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“Wanda and I agreed that we won’t see anyone until the divorce finalizes,” Natasha said with a sniffle, wiping her tears away from her eyes. Her therapist, Nora, only nods while soothing the woman’s back out of comfort. “S-She will be leaving my house once everything’s done.”

“Do you have a child with Wanda?” Nora asked her quietly; the woman shook her head. It was a relief for Natasha since it would’ve been a lot harder if they ever had a child – and they couldn’t have a child.

They just couldn’t, no matter how much Natasha wanted to.

“No.”

“Everything will be sorted out,” she tells her with a convincing voice, a voice that tells Natasha that everything will be fine when it won’t ever be fine. She soothes again, “You just need a lawyer, okay? Once you do, then we can go to court. Does Wanda have a lawyer?” the other woman nodded. “I see, well I have to give you some phone numbers that you could talk to, they’re the best in this state. Please contact them as soon as you get home.”

“What if I’m still in love with her?” Natasha sobs out, rubbing the back of her hair with so many questions and whys in her head. Why? Why did you cheat on me? Why ME? Why does it have to be like this? Is he better at fucking you? Does he have a lot of money? Why, why, why?

“You could never out-love someone, Natasha.”

Nora was right; she could never just out-love Wanda – how can she? Wanda was her first love, it was merely impossible at this point.

“I wish she never did it,” she mumbles, staring at the ground as more tears streamed down her face. Natasha felt angry, confused, and conflicted. One moment, she wanted to beg for her love and now all she could see was fire and red at the same time; Wanda was flammable, she was toxic for Natasha’s thirst; a venom. She grips her gray buttoned-up shirt and mumbles again with a seething tone, “I wish I could kill her. I wish she could die in a car crash so that I won’t have to think about her again.”

“Let it all out,” Nora said. “Just let it all out, Natasha.”

And she did.

hey tash, can i go to your place real quick? wanda is asking me to get some of her clothes. i think she’s going on a date.

Oh. Yeah, sure. You could stay for a bit if you want, I’m on my way home anyway.

where were you?

I went to see my therapist, Y/n.

i’m sorry, i just wanted to know how you’re doing. my sister is really unforgivable in this situation, I'm sorry you had to go through that tasha.

Can we talk more when I get there? I actually want to give you something :)

yay! what is it?

Just wait in my living room, I’m almost there.

Okay!

As I waited patiently in her living room, I thought about the brighter times when Natasha and Wanda were happy together. This home used to be so full of laughter and happiness that I couldn’t even begin how beautiful this home was. Now, it’s just quiet and lonely; tragic and sorrowful. Her plants at her door area were wilting, and her big living room lamp was broken; I could only see the metal rod was bent. This home is lonely, too lonely and quiet – I felt awkward staying on her couch.

“Been waiting for me?”

I turned around and saw Natasha bringing bags of groceries (she only brought two and they looked light) as she strode into the kitchen area, where she dispatches the things she needed for her refrigerator. I immediately stood up and followed her, giving me an instinct that I should help her out.

“Let me help you, Tash–”

“Go sit back down Y/n,” she said, smiling tightly at me. “I got this, okay? I’ll bring you a glass of apple juice, I can handle this.”

I sat back down and waited for her. Once she was finished, she walked back and sat down beside me, placing two glasses of apple juice on the wooden coffee table that she built for Wanda a few years ago. I could still remember the look on my sister’s face when Natasha gave her this table.

And now, the table looks depressing, as if a flower is wilting.

“I’m happy that you’re here,” she said with a smile; bringing the rim of her glass to her lips. “You know, I was supposed to ask you to come over so we could watch a movie together.”

“I’m glad we’re still close,” I said, holding the glass in both of my hands. “I know Wanda has been… irresponsible with your marriage, but I’m happy that you still choose to talk to me even though I’m her sister.”

“I mean, I’ve known you ever since you were just a little girl,” a chuckle came from Natasha’s lips. “And now you’ve blossomed into this… beautiful girl. Your mother has raised you well.”

“I guess you could say that.”

As we exchanged laughter, we clinked our glasses together and drank from them simultaneously. I was about to stand up when I felt her hand on my knee, suddenly pulling me to sit back down out of instinct.

“Is there anything you need?” I asked Natasha quietly.

She shakes her head. “Not really, I really could use some company right now.”

“How’s your therapy session? Did it go well?”

“Nora was alright,” she answered, leaning against the back of the couch. “I guess it helped a bit. I still want to murder your sister, that’s for sure.”

“I totally understand if you do,” I said. “She has been nothing but an ass lately.”

“She’s more of an ass than me?” quirked Natasha, raising her left eyebrow and looking at me with those damn hooded eyes – I could’ve sworn she was slightly flirting with me. Natasha Romanoff was known to be a jackass, an adult who likes to be an asshole for the laughs and giggles. But lately, she’s been vulnerable; helpless; hazed with anger. I could hardly blame her for being this angry with my older sister, Natasha has done nothing but treat Wanda as if she was the love of her life.

And maybe that’s why I get a little insecure whenever I see them together because I’ve always had a small crush on Natasha (that I still hope she doesn’t have an idea that I do have a crush on her) and maybe that’s a little unfortunate for me since there was no percentage of us being together or having that kind of fling where I could say that woman feels for me the same way I do.

It was merely impossible.

“You could say that.”

Natasha scoots closer to me until both of our thighs touch. After placing her glass back on the table, she yawned as the day began to clear. I try to think of other words to create a conversation with her; nothing comes across my head.

Finally, she asked: “How’s school? When will you be graduating?”

“In a few months,” I answered, fidgeting with my fingers.

“What university will you be going to?”

“Probably in New York so I could stay closer to Pietro.”

“And Wanda? Will she be in New York?”

“No, she’ll be staying here,” I replied. There was a look of relief on Natasha’s face that I can’t distinguish – it’s hard to tell whether she was satisfied with that information or not. I was about to ask why until she said, “I’ll be in New York for a couple of years, you know, to get away from this fucking madness.”

“I understand,” I said. “When will you be moving?”

“Once I finalize my divorce with Wanda, then I will go,” she replied, prompting her elbow on the couch and using her free hand to support her head. She was beautiful like this, natural and calm. It was short, really short. It’s almost as if she was pulling out “revenge hair” as her hair darkens, leaning on a brown color – which suits her perfectly well. Needless to say, she was beautiful; eye-catching.

I nodded deeply and looked away. But I felt her thumb and index finger holding my chin, turning me to look at her again; almost gazing at her. I dug my hands in between my thighs, and almost whimpered when her lips were close to mine.

She was about to kiss me, she was going to kiss me.

“Have you ever been kissed?”

“I-I have,” there was no reason for me to lie there, I simply have been honest with her ever since I walked into this house. There was a slash of disappointment plastered on her face, but immediately went away when she looked down at my gaped mouth. I was breathing hard, almost in an embarrassing way. If she kisses me now, I wouldn’t able to resist. What if I was a rebound? Who cares, I wanted her lips to kiss mine so that I could never–

“Let me kiss you?”

I’m a rebound, I’m a rebound, I’m a rebound–

“Yes.”

She didn’t waste time and pressed her mouth on mine, almost shuddering when both of our lips are being touched. Her lips were warm, and I could tell she was scrunching her eyebrows together. When her hand went behind my back and roughly pulled me closer to her, the spark between us went away. I almost yelped out of shock. But then, something eased on her – like a person telling her that I was a delicate little girl that was fragile, and she kissed me slowly but in a sloppy way.

Natasha pulls away with a string of saliva on both of our lips. “Your lips are so soft,” she murmured.

“I don’t think we should be doing this.”

She shakes her head, and pecked on my bottom lip so gently – I could hardly feel her lips. She used her other hand to stroke my jaw and whispered, “Wanda isn’t here, baby…”

“But you’re still married–” I moaned quietly when her lips were on my neck, kissing my skin with hunger while wrapping both of her arms around my small waist to pull me close on her lap. “Tasha, slow down.”

I wanted to tell her that she was going to use me as her rebound, that none of this was real to her. But I was so lost in her own world that I did not notice her unbuttoning her pants hastily; I had to push her chest away from me.

“You’re not thinking straight,” I said, trying my best to sound normal other than being heartbroken that I might be her rebound. “Y-You can’t be doing this with me, I’m her sister Tasha…”

“So do you want to stop?” she asked, still removing her pants all the way down to her midthighs. I closed my eyes, but she kissed my lips again to make sure I was still breathing. “Breathe baby, breathe. It’s okay, she’s not here–”

“She will go insane if I sleep with you!” I exclaimed.

“But she’s not here,” she whispers, like a smooth talker, as if everything will be alright; I was convinced. Natasha slowly trails her fingers inside my shirt and holds me down, feeling her tight erection on her loose boxers. She kisses my neck once more while her other hand was playing with my left breast, asking: “Have you ever slept with someone?”

“No,” I replied quickly, cursing myself that I’d answered her too fast. But she pulled away with a proud smile while still touching me through my shirt. “I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

“That my parents would know–”

She immediately cuts me off mid-sentence, kissing my lips hard instead.

“No one will find out, okay? We don’t have to sleep together for now.”

“For… now?”

She nodded, inserting her tongue inside of my mouth until we were french kissing on her couch; on her lap. As soon as Natasha was about to remove my shirt, I slightly pulled away with a ragged breath. She squints her eyes, wondering why we stopped, and I did not say anything else but got onto my knees and pulled down her pants to her ankles.

“Baby,” she sighs loudly, her cock growing once more. “Y-You don’t have to do that–”

“I want to,” I assure her, my eyes are looking back up at the woman that has her legs open for me. Natasha could only nod and pulled her dick out of her boxers, her length proudly showing in the scene. She was hard, but not fully hard where her penis stands itself. I could see a bit of juice leaking out from its tip; I wish to lick it and suck her head as hard as I could watch her begging for more. “I’ve never given someone like this before.”

“A blowjob?”

Her cock was big; too big for my mouth. But my cunt clenches for it to be touched, I wanted her to slip her dick inside of me until I was a mess. Pogubi menya svoim rtom, Natasha.

“Y-Yeah…”

“It’s okay,” she coos, bringing her hand in the back of my hair and pulling me closer to her genitalia. “Go slow, okay? Just do what makes you comfortable, don’t use your teeth though.”

I’ve given myself a few more minutes before wrapping my hand around her shaft, gasping quietly about how utterly big she was; my fingers could barely wrap around her dick. Natasha threw her head back in the air and moved closer, half of her buttocks were exposed while having pleasure from my hand. I thought about those videos that my friends sent me, a woman jacking a guy off using her hands and mouth. So this gave me an idea and slowly brought my hand up and down on her length, watching her bulbous head carefully – I could see more of her juices coming out.

“Oh yeah,” she slurs as her eyes twitched while closed. “That’s so fuckin’ good, you’re hand is so warm.”

She was throbbing on my hand, and I couldn’t help but examine the way her member looked. The head was pinkish, with a mix of red; her cock was veiny but not in a gross way; it looked like it was reaching over her belly button, which made me wetter from the sight and the feeling of her dick. I slowly leaned closer to her penis and gave the tip a kiss, watching the woman have a reaction to it.

“Feels so good, Y/n… keep going.”

I took a deep breath and swallowed her head, my eyes widening when I could feel her juices dripping on my tongue. I closed my eyes instead and slowly let go of her cock with a loud pop! It made Natasha yell out of sexual frustration. I knew she was impatient – but I had to take my time. I could hear her murmuring, “Keep going, little girl… just keep your mouth on me.”

And I did, but it was a lot more difficult than it seems. The woman had a big dick, there was no denying that, and I tried my best to slurp the tip of her cock but instead; I choked. She averted her eyes from me and asked with a worried voice, “Shit–are you okay? You can stop–”

“Let me adjust,” I breathed out, slowly pumping her cock. Natasha could only nod and rest her head against the couch, watching me intently as I jerked her off. She was warm on my palm; I almost let out a tiny moan from the way it twitches. It just shows that it was begging for my attention, and I had to do something about it.

So I wrapped my mouth around the tip of her dick again and breathed, sinking my mouth further into her length. Natasha threads her fingers through my hair gently and pushes my head deeper into her cock, making me let out gurgling sounds.

“Your mouth is so good,” she whines, raising her hips a little to reach for my throat. “Suck it harder, baby girl. I’m so fuckin’ hard for you…” she shifts onto the couch and unbuttons her cardigan to release the tension inside of her. All she could think about was my mouth and my pussy. She wondered what it would feel like if she slipped her cock inside of me as I scream for mercy; yelling about how big her cock was.

“That’s it,” she coos, her breath hitching. “Lick my cock like that, what an obedient little girl you are.”

If it’s a guilty pleasure to be called a “little girl” by her, then I’d be damn proud to be called that by her. I closed my eyes again and sunk my mouth deeper, licking the underside of her dick repeatedly until I’ve gotten my rhythm. Natasha slowly humps my face as she uses both of her hands to guide my head up and down on her cock, making me create wet and pornographic noises that fill up the room too sweetly. The woman sighs blissfully, as if she couldn’t believe this was happening to her. Once the tip of her cock hit my throat; I gagged.

“Oh god!” she shuts her eyes tightly and keeps my head still while fucking my mouth slowly, her length popping in and out of my mouth. “So close baby, yeah… just suck my cock like that. You’re so good, little baby.”

I sucked her head vigorously while slurping on it, going deeper and deeper until half of her length was in my mouth. I felt her hand holding my neck as she continues to thrust into my mouth at a slow pace, making sure I wasn’t in too much pain. This was what she needed, what she wanted from me. It was this innocent slut that she wanted to take; I wanted to lick it and I wasn’t ashamed of any of it.

Natasha holds my head still and felt her hips twitching, as I hear her say, “I’m gonna cum–Oh fuck, take it!” and I felt two ropes of thick cum in my mouth; closing my eyes tight as she continues to let herself go inside of my mouth, giving everything that she needed. The woman sees stars behind her head and imagines my mouth being my cunt instead – the thrill of excitement burning inside of her passionately; she wanted to fuck me now or she wouldn’t able to live with herself.

“Oh god,” she moans as she spurts more cum on my tongue. “T-That’s it, oh fuck yeah…”

She was in heaven. But deep inside, she was in hell. While calming down from her firing orgasm, she realized that I was the sister of her wife – and she completely fucked up by fucking my mouth and coming on my tongue. Natasha couldn’t help but feel guilty, though the guilt washed away when I suddenly released the tip of her cock with a pop! From my mouth, and pulled myself up as I sat down beside her with some of her cum on the corners of my mouth.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers to me, pulling my face closer as she kisses me deeply; tasting herself. “Fuck, I’m so sorry. I should’ve been more discreet–”

“It’s okay,” I cut her off with a frantic nod while touching her right cheek, which I almost fell apart when she leaned on my touch. “I-I don’t want Wanda to know, I don’t know what I’d do if she knew about this–I’m sorry, I don’t–”

“She won’t know anything about us,” she said, leaning her forehead against mine as she pecked on my lips with her wet mouth, pulling me closer to her once more. Something about her being so comforting is losing the worries that have been boiling inside of me; like a kettle bursting once it’s hot. “It’s only our secret, I promise.”

another note: natasha will be an asshole if this comes out as a series, but she will have a development of course! let me know how you guys feel about this one shot <3

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha angst #black widow x reader #black widow x you #tasha bear:(

[luvevee]

So Carmine is honestly really sweet to watch develop! She seems like she's an older teenager, maybe a junior or senior, so her coping mechanisms for her instabilities like her anger are interesting to watch.

Hands clenching and being brought to her chest because they're shaking with anger. This seems to imply she's fighting to urge to hit whatever's making her angry.

Huge firework outbursts in response to slightest pushback. It's afterwards she explains what she really meant to get across by them.

She does not like change at all + is very vocal about how much she hates outsiders in her town.

Very very loud, and very vocal with her presence.

Incredibly remorseful and emotional when apologizing for mistakes she makes.

I think the most important thing to look at in the background is that Carmine understands she has a support system, and that's what makes the hugest difference in how she copes with everything.

When we get the mask, her first thought is "take it to grandpa" with no intention of withholding information. She's not scared she'll get in trouble or thinking of hiding things from them, she knows she has to be completely transparent and she can do that with her grandparents. She trusts them, she knows they'll help even if it's something so bizarre that most people would dismiss her experience.

Adding to that is when she learns the true story of the Loyal Three and Ogerpon. Her first impulse is to run into town to shout the truth. It isn't even a "we need to avenge our family lineage" thing, it's the misinformation that destroyed the lives of her ancestor, a man who wanted to live a new and quiet life, and a pokemon that was just reacting to the death of her trainer/parent. She's angry at the town for what they did to Ogerpon and she wants them to listen. Carmine's thinking of what she wants and what should happen. Her fiery personality paired with impulsivity leads to a lot of possibilities of problems.

But then her grandpa stops her. He doesn't scold her, he just asks "what would happen if they found out the truth after so long" and lets Carmine realize the answer is most likely "get angry" without putting down her impulsive, though valiant, urge to tell everyone the truth. He understands that Carmine just wants to make history right and that she's an honest young lady, but that she's very impulsive and very aggressive with how she goes about things. And the thing is Carmine listens to him, because she knows her grandpa is trying to help her understand the situation.

Her grandparents very obviously love her and understand that she needs some extra nudging/coaching with things. They understand she has problems regulating herself, and they work with her. Carmine doesn't feel the need to lash out against them because she understands they're trying to help her, and that's helped shape how a lot of her current coping mechanisms work.

Carmine can think of the practical sides of things if she's stopped for a moment. She can redirect her anger from physically lashing out, because even though her first instinct is to hit since it's a very simple and impulsive movement she knows it's bad. She can trust that she has people to catch her if she falls, namely her grandparents.

Then the whole other ballpark of how she's very protective of Kieran. It seems like that Carmine wants him not to be her, but to feel like her. She wants her little brother to feel confident, safe, strong, but her emotional instability and typical big sibling feelings really strain the gap between them.

When Kieran pushes back, she struggles with responding appropriately and gets furious because "I'm just trying to be a good big sister" and "I'm the big sister he should listen to me" clash in her head alongside her pride. She's trying really hard to make him feel the way she does, but it ends up just making him shrink down further because of how aggressive she is. It's a cycle she accidentally perpetuates without realizing what she's doing.

And Carmine loves him so much! She wants what's best for him, she wants to be the model big sister. She cares so much about his feelings that she convinces us to stay quiet about meeting Ogerpon because she knows he'll be crushed that he wasn't there. Even though she teases him, Carmine's clearly trying to be a good big sister/trusted figure in his life. That's what hurts the most, is that she's trying.

But in her excessive worrying and outbursts about his feelings, she ends up doing more damage. She ends up yelling things that she feels on the surface level and has to explain that what came out was completely different than what she meant, but she doesn't tell Kieran that because it's the "he should understand I'm doing what's best for him" mindreading aspect.

By the end of the arc, Carmine does the one things she really can: give him space. She doesn't force him out of his room before they go back to Blueberry Academy, she just tells everyone he isn't feeling well. She's trying to protect his privacy and processing, still trying to be the wall between the turbulent world and Kieran's need for time, and it's obvious she feels adrift in this situation. Usually she can just apologize and things calm down, but it's such a huge situation that changed so much that the usual routine won't work. It's something that obviously troubles her, but she ultimately realizes all she can do is wait for Kieran to reach out to her when he's ready.

She wants so badly to help Kieran, but she's on the other side of the same wall that's making it so hard for her to truly look at him and understand what she needs to shift to be the good big sister she strives to be in his life.

Carmine's character is so amazing to watch develop as she learns to trust someone other than the people around her and how she takes in everything that happens around her, she really deserves a big hug for how hard she tries 😭

#this is long asf but I love character analysis #and carmine is really interesting and sweet to watch develop #pokemon teal mask #teal mask spoilers #pokemon carmine #can you tell i've had writer's block #vevee posting 💜

[janetsboys]

How did you know?

✿ characters: carl grimes x peletier!reader (6 years after his death)

✿ A/N: haven’t been there in a while !

✿summary: you’re carol’s daughter, sophia’s twin sister, you grew up with carl and got together before he died. now your adoptive little brother doesn’t know what his feelings are towards the whisperer girl and you usually give good advice soooooo

✿warnings: mention of death

english is not my first language, i make mistakes <3

————————————————————————————

✿ ✿ ✿

You were both at the Hilltop, this is where you lived. You had just hit 21 and had already been through 6 years without Carl.

Your mom and your step father that was just like the father you never had brought you guys here for a while, especially Henry, you were kinda just there to look after him.

“Hey (Y/N), you got a second?” “Hi, yeah what’s going on?” your adoptive brother walks to you all nervous.

You knew about the whisperer girl that Daryl interrogated, you didn’t know the whole story about her but you knew Henry got close to her and to be honest, you felt like this was none of your business, still worried about your little brother.

Then her mother went to get her back and she left, you knew it hurt Henry but you couldn’t really do anything about it.

You step out of the nursery you were reorganizing and you guys sit down together,

“Are you okay? You look pale Hen” you said worried he’d be sick. You kinda developed a phobia of sick people, seeing Carl after the bite kinda stayed in your mind.

“I’m alright don’t worry. I just- you know the girl that just left, i really think we, i don’t know.” he tried to find the words desperately.

“Did you fall for her?” you said smiling. “I don’t know that’s why I’m here. Do you think she’s worth it?”

“Worth what? Risking your life for her? I don’t think a lot of people are worth your life Henry.” he was exactly the age Carl was when he died. You’re very overprotective of your little brother.

“If i love her then she is, yeah?” he stared into your eyes agitating his hands. “Do you love her?” you suddenly lost your smile.

“How did you know you were in love?” that one hit you right in the face. Your brother knew about the boy you loved, he also knew you never found love again afterwards, at least you didn’t allow yourself to.

But you didn’t talk about it much, you immediately shut yourself up when someone tried to talk about it. I think the only one you allowed to ask about Carl was Henry, cause he reminded you of him sometimes, he had a kind heart like Carl did.

When he asked you this, you gulped and you thought about it, you slowly fell in love with Carl while you were growing up together, the real day you realized was the day you arrived to Alexandria.

You had big trust issues because of the terminus and all the crazy shit that happened to you in the past years.

You and everyone else were sleeping in the living room of one of the houses Deana gave y’all. You were laying in a sleeping bag on the floor right next to Carl.

Everyone was settling their “bed” in the room and you guys were already laying next to each other, “Do you think you’ll manage to sleep tonight?” he asked you nervously playing with the bag’s zipper.

“I think so, i feel safe with everyone here and i know my mom or Daryl are certainly not gonna sleep so we’re alright i guess.” he nodded but didn’t seem convinced.

You wanted him to relax and finally get to sleep under a roof, sort of safe. Your instinct told you to put your hand on his and you immediately did, he stopped fidgeting the zipper and looked at you.

“You finally get a real night sleep, at least tonight, it’s been so long. Look at this house, we talked about this remember? How we missed our old houses? This one kinda looks like mine, maybe it’s not safe here but at least this one night, people are doing the job for us.“ you looked at the adults of the room saying this, Carl followed your look.

He seemed more relaxed at that moment, when you guys stared at each other and when he started soothing your hand with his thumb, it was just the two of you and you finally put words on your feelings, you were very much in love.

✿ ✿

“I don’t think i could’ve done this without you, (Y/N), i couldn’t have been the only kid. Without anyone to talk to, someone who understands.” he looked so tired.

“I’m glad i’ve got you too.” you smile turning to look at him while he was facing the ceiling. You looked at him closely, he was like, the most beautiful boy you had ever seen.

You kept looking at him for a while, everyone treated you like adults and you had to behave like ones but when it was just the two of you you could finally be your age.

You could laugh and talk like actual 14 then 15 year olds.

✿ ✿

When everyone headed to sleep, at least for some of you, Carl decided to get his sleeping bag closer to yours when the lights were down so he could hold you in his arms the whole night.

At first you thought he did this to reassure you but rethinking about this, Carl did this to reassure himself. To know someone was there.

When you fell asleep that night, you knew you were going to love him for the rest of your life. And you’re convinced he realized he was in love with you right at the same moment.

✿ ✿

When you get back to Henry after this split second of reflection, he’s desperately waiting for an answer.

“Well, when i realized i felt safe around him, i could lay my head on his shoulder to fall asleep as if i was in the safest home in the world. That he was the one who understood me and that i understood too. When i realized i could calm him down with my words because he truly cared about what i had to say. Because he cared and i cared. Because he looked after me and i looked after him.”

Henry was paying so much attention to your words.

“He wrote me on his death letter, you quote him, “I knew that wherever i would go, i would find my way back to your arms, back to the house we built for each other. I know that someday, i’ll walk in our little house again and i’ll find you waiting in a sleeping bag.” if she feels like a safe home to you. You’re in love.” your eyes were watering of course.

“I don’t know if she loves me as much as you love Carl but, i think i love her. And if i’m right, i’m losing her right now.” he had glowing eyes, you had a feeling he was in love with her.

You pulled him into a comforting hug; “Please, Henry, do what you gotta do but i beg you to stay safe and think before you do something sweetheart.”

You held him so tight into your arms “Promise me, Hen.” you told him a tear rolling down your cheek. “Promise me.” you said again.

“I promise you, (Y/N)” you let go of your strong hold and kiss his forehead, hands holding his face.

“I love you, and i have a feeling you’ll really see him again one day.” he smiles down at you.

“I love you too, i love you so much.” you let go of his face and watch him walking away, not knowing what he would do.

✿ ✿

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sorry for the long absence i’ve been through some serious shit omg

hope you guys enjoyed that tell me what you think love y’all <3333

#carl grimes #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes x you #reader insert #fanfic #x reader #twd carl #carl grimes fluff #carl come back please

[wyntereyez]

A Little Batty

Here it is... my @cssns contribution! It's late because I've been burned out, and it was originally going to have art by @spartanguard and be betaed by @ohmakemeahercules, but because I didn't get anything done until the last minute, I didn't want to impose.

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A Little Batty

Emma’s nights volunteering at the Storybrooke Bat Rehabilitation Center (locally referred to as ‘The Belfry’) weren’t something she’d ever imagined herself doing. She was no Disney princess; she didn’t have a natural rapport with animals. But The Belfry was her sister-in-law’s baby, and who was Emma to resist Mary Margaret’s pleading eyes? And she had to admit, any animal that let you roll it into a little burrito was cute.

Plus, her nights fell on the nights Henry was over at Neal’s. Though she didn’t think she was one of Those Moms who missed their children whenever they weren’t around, Emma admitted to herself that she was lonely when he was gone. Their creaky old house suddenly felt big and empty, and it became too much for Emma. At least at The Belfry, she could socialize without going to the effort of getting dressed up and going out in public.

Ruby was already there when Emma arrived. Unlike Emma, she did have a way with animals (“Not all animals; just creatures of the night,” she’d joked) and was the best at handling the animals when their cages needed cleaning.

And then there was Mary Margaret, who really was a Disney Princess, and you couldn’t convince Emma otherwise. All animals loved her, and she loved all animals. 

They were gathered around Mary Margaret’s desk, discussing distribution of chores (Emma was not on cage-cleaning duty tonight, thank goodness) when they were interrupted by the arrival of William Smee, the man in charge of the local marina.

Emma thought at first he’d come specifically looking for her as sheriff, but he’d only nodded in greeting and headed straight to Mary Margaret.

He was wearing the thick gloves he used for dock work, and held what looked like a ratty old beach towel cupped in both hands. “Mrs. Nolan! I found a bat down at the docks. I didn’t know what else to do with him, so I brought him straight here.”

It was unusual for Smee to be working this late at night, especially past the tourist season, and Emma instinctively wondered why. She mentally scolded herself; she needed to stop being paranoid; not everyone did things for duplicitous reasons. Like her ex.

“Let’s see what you have,” Mary Margaret said. She opened the desk drawer and withdrew a set of the thick leather gloves they used when handling the bats. Smee pulled away the top layer of the towel, just enough to reveal his captive without releasing it.

Emma expected a large brown bat; they made up most of the local bat population, and thus most of The Belfry’s residents. She wasn’t prepared for when the towel fell away from a sharp, fox-like muzzle and huge eyes, topped with large, pointed ears.

It was a fruit bat. A rather large one, at that. It stared calmly back at them with its wide, dark eyes, and twitched its ears. It seemed completely unbothered at being a bat-burrito, suggesting it was accustomed to being handled. It yawned, exposing sharp canines, one of which had a small chip in it.

“Where did you find it?” Mary Margaret asked as she pulled on the thick leather gloves.

“He was down at the docks,” Smee said. “Nestled in a coil of rope. I almost missed him, but he squeaked at me. It’s like he wanted to get my attention.”

The bat squeaked, as though it were chiming in.

“He didn’t even put up a fight. He was easy to catch - you’ll see why,” Smee said as the last of the towel fell away, leaving the bat exposed in Mary Margaret’s hand. Annoyed, the bat spread its wings, and Emma ducked out of the way of the enormous right wing. 

It was only after she righted herself that noticed his left wing, which Mary Margaret had caught and was gently holding. It was only half the length of the right, ending with a club of scar tissue just below what would have been the wrist. Mary Margaret was examining it critically, frowning.

“It’s an old injury,” Mary Margaret said, releasing the wing. The bat gave her a sour look and tucked it to his side. “No way he’s been living wild. He’s probably someone’s pet; a sailor, maybe, since you found him at the docks. He’s definitely used to being handled.”

He was also very obviously a ‘he,’ Emma couldn’t help but notice when the bat rolled over onto his back, his rear towards Emma. He looked towards her, gave a startled squeak, and wrapped his wings around himself.

Emma needed to stop anthropomorphizing the residents, because there was no way he could be embarrassed by accidentally flashing her.

“We’ll put him in one of the isolation cages for now,” Mary Margaret decided. “Just because he seems healthy now, doesn’t mean there’s nothing wrong with him. Ruby, I brought a banana for a snack; it’s in the break room if you could grab it for me, please?”

“Do you have any idea where he came from?” Emma asked Smee. Fruit bats were illegal to have as pets, and while Emma didn’t think the owner would get more than a fine, they could lead to a larger illegal animal trade organization. “Anyone new around the docks?” It was the wrong time of year for it, though; most of the boats that came to Storybrooke for the summer tourist season had departed in the last few weeks. It was possible one of them had left the bat, but that meant he’d been on the docks fending for himself for at least a week. He look too healthy for a pet that had been abandoned that long.

“We have one ship that’s wintering over for repairs, but he’s not the bat’s owner,” Smee said. He seemed very certain of this, but there was something shifty in his gaze as he said it. Emma prided herself at being good at detecting lies and Smee…wasn’t lying, not exactly, but he wasn’t telling the truth, either. Before Emma could pursue it further, however, Mary Margaret interrupted.

“Obviously, he can’t be released into the wild,” Mary Margaret sighed. “He seems pretty docile; we can probably put him in the bat educational program, assuming he’s healthy and remains easy to handle. Thank you for bring him, Mr. Smee. We’ll take good care of him.”

Smee took this as his cue to leave, but not without an odd backward glance at the bat.

Emma told herself the bat did not nod at Smee.

Ruby returned with the banana and began to peel it. At the sight of it, the bat began squeaking and straining towards it. “Someone’s hungry,” she cooed, and held it out. The bat’s mouth opened wide, and he tore off a chunk that looked like it should have been too large for him.

They let him eat as much as he wanted while Mary Margaret held him. When he was finished, consuming almost the entire thing (How? Emma wondered. Where did he put it all?), Mary Margaret said, “I need to feed the others. Emma, could you get some gloves and put this guy in the furthest isolation cage?”

Emma grabbed another set of gloves. “Isn’t he too big?” The cages were designed for much smaller brown bats; he’d be cramped.

“He should be okay for a few days. And since he can’t fly, we don’t have to worry about too little space. He should have enough room to spread his wings, at least.”

The bat chittered, and licked banana mush off its muzzle. “We’ll have more fruit for you tomorrow,” Mary Margaret promised. “A variety. How do you feel about strawberries?” She chattered on as she transferred him to Emma.

The bat squeaked excitedly.

Which was a valid reaction to strawberries, but couldn’t be in response to Mary Margaret’s words. Right? 

Could bats pick up words, like dogs? Maybe he did understand ‘strawberries.’

Emma carried the bat to the back area, past the large, open enclosures that housed the permanent populations, as well as the wild ones that would be released as soon as they were ready. The isolation cages were smaller, designed to make it easy to catch a bat that would need constant care and observation.

She opened the door of the last cage, the largest, and gently lowered her hands. It took some prodding to move him off her palms, and at last he moved with great reluctance. He crawled across the floor of the cage to the bars, and immediately began to climb them to the top, unhindered by the missing finger bones of his wing, then crawled around the top until he found the perfect spot. He anchored his feet in place and dropped his body until he was hanging upside down, eye to eye with Emma. Then, with a great yawn, he pulled his wings around himself until only the tips of his ears were visible.

“Stay out of trouble,” she told him.

Emma could have sworn he’d winked at her.

~oOo~

Emma stopped by the marina at the end of her shift, curious if the bat’s owner had returned. Her attention was drawn to a ship she hadn’t seen before, a massive wooden ship that looked like it would be more at home in the Caribbean than in Maine. It was moored at the largest dock, and Emma saw it had no sails, nor any rigging. It must have been the ship Smee said was staying over for the winter, since that was the only reason to derig it. She hadn’t expected anything so… spectacular. The ship was gorgeous. She studied it curiously for several minutes, wondering who would own such a vessel, then shrugged and headed towards the main office. The door was locked, however; Smee had already left, and there was no one else on the docks.

She shrugged and headed to The Belfry.

Mary Margaret was already there, feeding the residents. It alway icked Emma out, to see her gentle sister-in-law feeding the ecstatic bats their mealworms.

“How’s our newest resident?” Emma asked.

“He was just waking up when I checked on him,” Mary Margaret said. “He looks alert, with no obvious signs of illness. The vet stopped by earlier to take some samples, so we should know soon if there’s any diseases we should worry about.” She frowned. “There was a bit of blood in his cage, but the vet couldn’t find any injuries. Did you cut yourself when you put him in the cage last night?”

“No,” she said, but examined her hands anyway.

“Huh. Well, if you’d like to feed him, there’s a bowl of fresh fruit in the fridge for him.” Mary Margaret grinned. “At least you’ll be able to feed this one without screaming,” she teased.

Emma scowled, because her revulsion to mealworms was totally valid, thank you very much.

Ruby had thrown a mealworm at her.

It had gone down her cleavage.

Emma was never going to touch a damn worm again.

Emma found the bowl of fruit, snagging a chunk of melon for herself before picking up the bowl and carrying it to the quarantine cage.

He was clinging to the bars of the cage when she arrived, his nose pressed to the fine mesh between the bars as though he’d been waiting for her. When he saw her - or, more likely, the bowl of fruit - he began to squeak excitedly.

Emma was charmed.

The name ‘Killian’ had been written on the paper taped to his cage, in fancy penmanship that Emma didn’t recognize.

“Killian, huh?” Emma asked.

The bat squeaked.

“Okay, if you say so.”

She snagged another piece of fruit - a strawberry this time, much to the bat’s indignation - then placed the bowl at the bottom of the cage. Killian quickly climbed down and hopped into the bowl, quickly losing himself in fruity bliss.

Emma laughed, then went to help Mary Margaret finish up.

“Who named him Killian?” she asked.

Mary Margaret frowned. “I thought you did. The name was there when I got here, and you were the last one to see him.”

“If I’d named him, it would be something like ‘Batty,’” Emma pointed out. “Or possibly ‘Dracula.’” She shrugged. “He seems to like it, so we may as well keep it.”

Mary Margaret gave her a strange look. “I’m sure he doesn’t care,” was all she said.

~oOo~

Killian’s test results came back clean. As long as his phlegmatic temperament continued, he’d be introduced to the other bats, though he’d be kept in a cage alone to accommodate his disability. He seemed fine with this; the smaller cage was beside the bigger one, so he could watch and communicate with the other bats if he chose. It also had bars that were easier to grip and climb. For a fruit bat with full, functional wings, it wouldn’t be ideal, but since Killian couldn’t fly, all he needed was enough room to stretch his wings to the fullest without touching the bars.

When he continued to be easy to handle, they decided it was safe to hold him without gloves. He seemed to like this, settling into Emma’s hands contentedly.

That was how she found out that bats <i>purred.</i>

“Oh,” Mary Margaret said. “He really likes you! Guess you’re his official caretaker from now on.”

Killian continued to purr in her hands. Emma decided maybe this wasn’t so bad.

Because he was so comfortable with people, even seeming to prefer their company, Emma took to carrying him around the sanctuary. Sometimes he’d be burritoed in a blanket, other times he’d drape over her shoulder, that incredibly long intact wing lazily hanging down. He seemed very curious about the computer whenever she played around with it at the desk (officially ‘doing paperwork’ for the sanctuary, but actually looking at memes) and she’d see his wide, dark eyes staring at the images.

He seemed especially interested in the staffing schedule.

Emma was also the only one he allowed to ‘fly’ him. It was something they did with elderly bats, holding them and carrying them around the sanctuary, wings spread, as if they were flying. Killian seemed bemused by the whole process, but allowed himself to be carried around. 

Especially since the reward was always a bowl of fresh fruit - and gentle ear scritches from Emma.

~oOo~

Emma hadn’t intended to start dating again. Her divorce from Neal had been messy; he hadn’t been willing to let her go, despite his affair with his now-girlfriend Tamara. She thought she was done with men.

And then her sister-in-law introduced her to Walsh. They’d met when Mary Margaret had gone to the new furniture store in town, and she’d been charmed by his politeness. 

Emma had tried to refuse Mary Margaret’s efforts to set them up, but then David had joined in. Her brother had thus far sided with Emma, and had talked Mary Margaret out of multiple attempts at a set-up. For him to approve of Walsh? That meant something. So Emma had reluctantly agreed to the date.

Walsh felt… safe. He was polite, respectful. Not particularly adventurous, which would have been a big turn-off once, but now it had appeal. Best of all, he didn’t argue with her every decision. She’d forgotten what it was like to be in a relationship with no drama.

One date became two, and plans were made for a third.

~oOo~

Emma arrived late to the sanctuary on the night of her second date. She hadn’t wanted to be out so late, but Walsh had admitted to being something of a night owl, and didn’t really eat until around nine in the evening. Emma had had to have a pre-dinner before dinner, because she knew she’d starve to death if she waited that long.

But she’d had more fun than expected. And eating later in the evening meant fewer diners, which had made the restaurant more intimate. 

She’d liked it.

And the dim interior made it harder to maintain eye contact with Walsh. She’d noticed that he had a really intense gaze, and tried to meet hers as often as he could. It was… uncomfortable, for reasons Emma couldn’t really explain.

Emma put it out of her mind as she turned her attention on the anxious fruit bat, who was perched with his muzzle sticking out of the cage. At the sight of her, he gave several ear-piercing shrieks.

“Sorry! Sorry!”

Killian gave her a sour look.

“Hey! Don’t give me that! It’s not like you can tell time!”

He continued to glower.

“Okay, sorry!”

He tilted his head, considering. Then, with a sound that was almost a purr, he extended his right wing towards her thumb, snagging it with his clever little finger, and pulling her hand closer. He was about to pull himself onto her hand when he suddenly froze.

His nose twitched, wrinkled, and he bared his sharp little teeth. And then he did something he’d never done before.

He hissed.

Emma jerked her hands back. “Whoa! What’s with you today?”

He continued to stare at her as though she smelled rancid, and he wouldn’t come near her. Rather than stress him out further, Emma let him be. It wouldn’t hurt him to miss a night of flying.

~oOo~

A bat’s rejection shouldn’t have stung.

Killian continued to be edgy the rest of the night, so she left him alone.

After her shift, Emma realized she was too restless to sleep. Maybe it was a lingering excitement over the date, or maybe Emma really had taken Killian’s tantrum personally, but she didn’t want to go home. It was Neal’s weekend with Henry, and she couldn’t face being cooped up in that empty house.

So she went to The Rabbit Hole, Storybrooke’s only nightlife scene. She drew a few glances as she walked in, but they lost interest as soon as they saw she was off duty. She went straight to the bar and ordered a strawberry daiquiri, because apparently hanging around a fruit bat made you crave fruity things.

She’d been there maybe ten minutes when someone sat beside her. A richly accented voice that definitely did not send a shiver down Emma’s spine asked for a rum. 

Emma waited until he’d been served his drink before turning to him and asking, “New in town?” 

He turned, and Emma’s breath hitched when she met those blue, blue eyes. “What gave it away, Love?” he asked, amused.

English accents turned her into putty. Especially when combined with a smoldering gaze.

Mistakes had been made.

“I know everyone in this town,” she said. “You stick out like a sore thumb.”

“Oh? And who might you be?”

“I’m the sheriff,” she warned him. 

“And you don’t take kindly to strangers ‘round these parts?” he mocked, adapting a twang.

“We’re fine with strangers - so long as they don’t bring trouble.”

He grinned, flashing sharp teeth. “And I look like trouble?”

Emma arched an eyebrow. 

His smile widened. Oh, he knew exactly how he looked.

“Killian Jones,” he said, offering his hand. Emma lifted a brow when, instead of shaking, he brushed his lips across the back of her hand. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

She hmmphed, refusing to be charmed by his old world manners.

Emma’s eyes fell on his left wrist, where a thick leather brace supported a rather alarming looking metal hook. His gaze followed hers. “Forgive the hardware,” he said. “Crude, I know, but it’s far more useful sailing than a more delicate prosthesis or a false hand.” He pulled his arm closer to his chest, not quite hiding it, but at least making it look less threatening.

His name wasn’t the only thing he had in common with their fruit bat.

“Are you a sailor, Mr. Jones?”

“Killian,” he reminded her. “Or Captain Jones, if you prefer to be formal. And I’m actually a pirate.”

Emma scoffed, then realized, “That old-fashioned ship in the marina! It’s yours!”

Killian nodded. “Aye, the Jolly Roger,” he said. That seemed a bit too on point. “I do charter sails for history buffs, as well as doing movie and television appearances. You’d be surprised what people will pay for a two-week Caribbean cruise with a dashing rapscallion like meself.” He grinned, and once again Emma had the unsettling thought that his teeth were very, very sharp.

“And what brings you here, Captain?”

“My ship is in need of repair, so I’m going to winter over in your lovely town,” he said. 

“Odd; Granny Lucas didn’t mention taking in any lodgers,” Emma noted.

“I’ve made other arrangements,” Killian shrugged.

Maybe he’d leased a place, then. The cottages were usually only available to lease to summer tourists, but she wouldn’t be surprised if one of the owners made an exception.

“You don’t happen to own a bat, do you?” she asked suddenly.

He blinked rapidly, blindsided.

He had beautiful eyelashes.

“Like…a baseball bat?” he asked slowly.

“Never mind,” Emma muttered. She pulled a couple of crumpled bills out of her pocket and set them on the bar. She stood up. “Nice to meet you Mr. - Captain Jones. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

“I didn’t get your name,” he said. It wasn’t a demand; rather, a polite inquiry. He was allowing her to be mysterious if she chose. Not that it would be hard to find out her name, since she was the sheriff. Still, she appreciated it.

“Emma Swan,” she said.

“See you around, Swan,” he said, low and throaty, and she totally did not shiver.

She left before she could embarrass herself.

~oOo~

Emma’s third date with Walsh led to a fourth.

After each date, Killian-the-bat would give her that angry hiss, and Emma wondered if he were somehow jealous that someone else was taking her time.

But he’d eventually get over it.

Which was probably a good thing, because they had their first school visit of the semester, and if he’d been cranky, he’d have missed out on having dozens of adoring children who cooed at him and gave him all the fruit he could ever want.

Though he wasn’t too crazy about being touched by their sticky fingers. But he allowed it, showing more patience than Emma had ever had.

She saw Killian-the-human several times over the next week; usually at the bar, once, coming out of the hardware store with items she assumed were for ship repair. Each time, he gave her a significant Look that she couldn’t read.

And then it happened, on a night when Emma was walking out of Granny’s diner with a bag full of carryout containers and a couple of donuts in preparation for an overnight shift at The Belfry. 

After three weeks of casual conversation, Killian asked her out for a drink. 

And Emma…she wanted to go.

Even though she barely knew him, she felt a spark with him, something that was more than just the thrill of his smoldering gaze.

“I’m actually seeing someone,” she said.

She hadn’t meant to sound regretful. She shouldn’t feel bad about dating Walsh, right?

“You don’t sound so certain,” Killian observed.

Dammit. “No, I am,” she said firmly. “He’s…nice.”

“All right,” Killian said. “I’ll see you around then, Swan.”

Emma released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. That had been harder than she’d expected. And a little part of her had feared he wouldn’t respond well to being ‘friendzoned.’

She watched him walk away, swaggering, then turned and stepped forward - into something very solid.

Walsh.

A deep frown was etched into his features. Emma wondered how long he’d been standing there in the dark, and if he’d heard everything.

“Who was that?” he asked.

Emma didn’t like his tone. Clearly, he had been eavesdropping.

“Just someone wintering over,” Emma said. “We talk occasionally.”

“He seemed to want to do more than talk,” Walsh said. His jaw was clenched, and Emma frowned. Oh, no. They were not going to do this.

“It doesn’t matter what he wanted,” Emma said coolly.

“Come to dinner with me,” Walsh said. It wasn’t a question.

Oh, hell no. She was not going to put up with this possessive bullshit. 

“I have other plans,” she said.

“Like what?” he demanded.

“That’s none of your business,” she snapped.

Something flickered across Walsh’s face, then he abruptly deflated. “Sorry,” he said. “I know I have nothing to worry about. I just don’t want to lose you, Emma.”

Emma studied him, all senses on alert. But he seemed sincere enough. Still… “We’ll discuss this tomorrow,” she told him wearily. “Right now, I have to get going.”

She made it to The Belfry just as Ruby was leaving for the day. “I left some bags of popcorn for you for later,” she told Emma as she pulled on her coat. “There’s some Milk Duds, too.”

Emma grinned. “You’re the best, Ruby.”

“I know,” the other woman grinned toothily.

Nights at The Belfry tended to be long. Emma only over-nighted once a week, and she used the time to binge watch shows. The last time she’d done it, Killian-the-bat had sat on her shoulder and squeaked at the screen.

She’d just checked the bats and was about to put a bag of popcorn in the microwave when she heard the front door open.

Emma froze. She could have sworn she locked it.

And then a familiar voice called, “Emma?” and she relaxed. Marginally. Why was Walsh here?

“Walsh, hey,” Emma said cautiously. “We don’t really allow guests this late at night.”

“I’m not a guest, I’m your boyfriend,” he reminded her. 

Emma went over to the front desk, sitting on the edge. Her hand crept over to the lamp on the corner.

“That doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t be here.”

“Why not? Is he here?”

Nope. Not doing this.

“Walsh… If you’re going to do this, then I don’t think we should see each other anymore. I’m not going to put up with someone who doesn’t trust me and stalks me at work.”

Walsh leaned back, staring down at her. But he made no move to leave. Emma braced herself for the inevitable meltdown.

Instead, he threw back his head and laughed.

At her shocked look, he said, “Did you think that would hurt me? It’s a relief, actually,” Walsh said. “Having to pretend to be interested in you is draining. You’re too abrasive, and you don’t trust anyone. Which, admittedly, was the right choice here. But it’s over now, and my master will reward me well.”

His eyes were red. Not bloodshot, but glowing a baleful crimson. “What the fu-”

Then their eyes locked, and Emma felt…something. It writhed around in her mind, clawing into her, leaving her feeling dirty. He was inside her head somehow, and she wanted him out, out, OUT!

Emma jerked her gaze away, and Walsh snarled.

“Why isn’t this working?” Walsh fumed. “You should be mine!” Then he smirked, showing off far too sharp teeth. “Guess we’ll have to do this the fun way, then.”

Emma reacted. Her hand flew to the heavy lamp on the desk corner, and she flung it at Walsh’s head. He didn’t react in time, and it hit him squarely in the forehead.

He didn’t even flinch.

It should have taken him down, or at least disoriented him long enough to continue attacking or escape. No man should have taken a direct hit to the head and just shaken it off.

He wasn’t normal.

He wasn’t human.

So Emma ran.

Her lunge to the side caught Walsh by surprise, and he didn’t immediately react. It bought her a few precious seconds to dart through the door leading towards the cage room.

There was an emergency exit in the back of the sanctuary. Emma sprinted towards it.

Walsh stepped out of the shadows, blocking her path.

<i>How?!</i> How had he gotten in front of her? It wasn’t possible!

“I’m not here to kill you, Emma,” Walsh said in exasperation. “I’m just going to take you to my master.”

Killian shrieked, beating his wings against the bars of his cage. Walsh ignored him.

“But…nobody said I couldn’t rough you up a bit.” His hands extended towards her, tipped in razor sharp claws.

Killian fell silent.

Emma dropped to the floor and kicked her leg out, hitting Walsh in the knee with bone-breaking force. It didn’t do more than stagger him, however, and he quickly recovered. Emma rolled away, but misjudged her direction and slammed into one of the cages. The bats inside fluttered their wings in agitation.

Walsh lunged towards her.

And then Walsh crashed to the floor. Something bumped and rolled across the floor, coming to a stop before Emma. Walsh’s head, the red fading from his eyes as they slowly dimmed. 

Standing over the body was Killian, the human Killian, dressed in black leather and wielding what looked like a pirate’s cutlass. “Are you all right, Love?” he asked.

His eyes had the same red glow as Walsh’s.

“What the fuck?” Emma shrieked.

Killian gave her a crooked smile.

A fang poked out from behind his lips.

“Apologies, Love,” Killian Jones said. The red was fading from his eyes, though the sharp fangs remained. “I’ll clean up the mess.”

Emma just stared at his teeth.

One of them was chipped. Just like Killian-the-bat’s.

“You’re…you’re…” 

“A vampire, yes,” Killian said. As if it were the most normal thing in the world. But Emma supposed that made more sense than what she’d been about to say: You’re my bat! “As was your…boyfriend.”

“He wasn’t my boyfriend,” Emma muttered. “It was just a couple of dates.”

“Mmph.” He crouched down, examining Walsh’s body. Then, to her horror, he dragged his finger through the small pool of blood and put it in his mouth.

“He’s a neophyte; probably not more than a year since he was changed. Which means his master has to be close by, because a vampire this young seldom strays far from his master.” Killian studied her closely. “Which means he was specifically sent to seduce you. I wonder why?”

Emma didn’t want to think about that. She didn’t know, she wasn’t special. 

“You somehow resisted his attempt to control you,” Killian continued. “That’s a rare gift.”

”You should be mine,” Walsh had said. 

“How can you be a vampire?” There was a shrill edge of panic to her voice. This was too much, far too much.

“It’s a long story,”  he said. “I won’t get into that tonight. All you need to know is that I hunt vampires like him, those who break our laws and hunt humans.”

“But… I’ve seen you during the day.” Walsh, on the other hand, she’d never before sunset. She’d just assumed he was a night owl, not a freaking <i>vampire</i>

“I’m over 300 years old. I’ve developed an immunity to sunlight. I don’t like it, but I can go out in it.”

“Three hun-” Her brain stuttered to a halt. “Are you actually a pirate?”

Killian chuckled. “I have been called such, yes. I prefer ‘dashing rapscallion.’”

“You would,” she scoffed. 

“There’s that spirit,” he said approvingly. “It’s a lot to take in, I know.”

She tried to back away, forgetting in her panic that the cage was behind her.

“I’ve been here over a month, and you haven’t had any mysterious deaths or illnesses related to blood loss, aye?”

There hadn’t been, actually. The town had been as calm as it always was after the tourist season ended. That didn’t mean Killian didn’t do his hunting elsewhere, but she hadn’t heard anything from the nearest towns, either.

“So…you’ve been living in town as a bat and a human for a month, and no one even noticed?”

“The werewolf knows, but she and I reached an understanding.”

“The…the werewolf…” Emma repeated faintly.

“The lovely Miss Lucas,” Killian said. “She figured out what I was fairly quickly, but we came to an agreement.”

“Ruby…is a werewolf…”

“Aye. She’ll probably be furious that I told you, but she will vouch for me. She knows our laws, and how strictly we enforce them.”

This was all too much. Emma had snapped. She blurted out the next thing that came to mind. “Shouldn’t you be a <i>vampire bat</i>?”

Killian looked pained. “I don’t have the most fearsome bat form, I admit.” And then his expression became lascivious. “But I’m certainly one of the biggest.”

Of course you are, Emma thought. 

Emma’s hands were still shaking. She clenched her fists, hoping to hide the trembling.

He noticed, however, and his face softened.

“I mean you no harm, Swan,” Killian said softly. “I rarely need to partake in human blood, and then only with willing donors. This town is safe from me.” His gaze went to Walsh’s corpse. “His master, however, seems to have no such qualms. It appears we were right about his intentions.”

“Is…is that why you’re here?” Emma asked. 

“To find his master, yes,” Killian said. “We suspected that a powerful old vampire was no longer keeping to our laws, and I was dispatched to track them. So I’m afraid you’re stuck with me for some time. Though I suppose you’ll want me to find other accommodations,” he added regretfully. “Pity; you have some lovely fruit.” 

Emma assumed that was supposed to be an entendre, but when she looked at his expression, she realized that, no, he actually meant fruit. What kind of vampire fed on fruit? “You can stay for now, until you find something better,” Emma offered. “Although, you will have to put up with the Bat Education Program,” she finished apologetically. “Mary Margaret wants to make you the star. But somehow, I don’t think you mind being the center of attention.”

Killian grimaced. “I’ll tolerate it. But only if the children wash their hands,” he growled

“She’s calling you the ‘am-bat-sador,’” Emma warned.

”Bloody hell,” Killian groaned. “But it will help me guard the children. They’re preferred victims of rogue vampires,” he concluded grimly.

A shiver went down her spine, and this time it wasn’t because of his accent.

Something evil was coming to Storybrooke.

~fin~

#author: wyntereyez #fandom: once upon a time #captain swan #emma swan #killian jones #vampires #cssns #cssns23

[devilmayfamily]

Baby On The Way

Soft!Vergil x Fem!Reader Because Papa Vergil changing his plans to take care of you and his baby is the only thing that matters right now

You waddled into the guest bedroom were your boyfriend and brother-in-law sat trying to build a crib. You watched as the two bickered, a half built crib next to them. You chuckled, amazed that the two 18 year olds were even sitting here right now trying to put the thing together.

"It's this piece you idiot," Vergil says.

Dante glares at his brother, snatching the bar from him and putting it into the slot. "I told you it was this one Verg."

Vergil rolled his eyes. In doing so, he noticed you standing in the door way.

"What are you doing up sparrow?" Vergil asks. "You should be resting."

Since the day you told Vergil a baby was growing inside you, the male had been super worried about you. Being part demon meant that some of those genes were gonna transfer down the tree. Knowing how hard and sometimes violent demon births were, and how much trouble his own mother had giving birth to him and his brother, he was constantly worried about you. He fed you all the food you wanted or craved, made sure you got all the rest you needed, kept you hydrated, and didn't let you carry a single thing.

While you were only 5 months in, your belly was already big and round. You were at the point of waddling, Vergil even carrying you when you complained of your feet hurting.

You rolled your eyes. "I'm not going to suddenly faint hun. Besides, I'm really hungry right now," you reply.

Vergil turns to look at his brother for a moment before hopping up from his spot on the ground.

"Dont-"

"I know."

Vergil nods before leading you out to the kitchen. He kept a protective arm around you as the two of you walked down the hall. He leads you over to the couch, settling you down with a blanket before walking into the kitchen.

"Did you have anything in particular you wanted sparrow?" Vergil asks.

"Anything you make will be good," you reply.

Vergil smiles, turning to get some things together. The older twin learned how to make a few things from spending so much time with his mother when he was younger. Eva taught him how to cook and bake as much as she could in their time together and to this day, Vergil is glad it's something he could carry with him.

Within seconds, the comforting smell of Eva's beef stew filled the air. While you never got to meet the wonderful lady, you're glad that you had her son's in your life.

You met Vergil first in Fortuna, the man having much different plans for his life before meeting you. With whatever charm you possessed, you were able to steer him away from his power seeking adventure and the half demon made quite the house husband.

To the blue devil's dismay, you ended up meeting Dante upon asking Vergil to meet whatever family he had left. Though the twins weren't happy with one another at the time, you've become someone the boys could agree on.

Vergil clearly loved you a lot, even Dante could see that even if his brother wouldn't say it out loud.

Dante began to see you as a little sister in your time in his life. Quickly finding out he was going to be an uncle now too surprised the red devil but he was glad to have a family once again.

Once Vergil finished, he brought you a bowl of the beef stew with white rice sitting underneath. You thanked the blue devil as he came around and sat down with you on the couch.

Vergil wrapped an arm around your shoulders, you instinctively leaning against the male.

"How's building the crib going?" you ask.

Vergil huffed, making you giggle. "Dante's making it more difficult than it needs to be."

"I think it's cute he wants to be apart of all of this," you reply. "Even with this business you two are now co-owning."

Since finding out about the baby, Vergil decided to take up his brother's offer on joining him at Devil May Cry. The blue devil had to get money for the baby and you some how.

"I'm glad you stayed. I don't know what I'd do without either of you," you mumble.

Vergil feels his heart ache for a moment. He really was trying to get himself locked in hell for eternity instead of being here with his brother or you before all of this. Now he sits here, awaiting the birth of his son while yelling at his brother on how to properly put a crib together.

Vergil shakes his head, chuckling before kissing the top of your head. "I love you too much to give this up. Even if Dante is a headache sometimes."

You smile, finishing the bowl off. You hand it to Vergil, the male taking it and filling it back up before returning to your warmth.

"What are we going to name him?" you ask. You were looking down at the bump resting on your lap. Vergil looked down as well, thinking for a moment.

"What would you like sparrow?" Vergil asks.

You look up at the male. Your eyes however focus on something behind him. Sitting on the arm rest of a near by chair, sat his black scarf which he normally tucked into the collar of his vest. Said vest rested on the seat of the chair.

"Nero."

---

The day finally came for the baby boy to be born. Vergil woke early in the morning to you pacing across the room. He was confused until he noticed a new scent in the air. The scent of labor.

Now Vergil laid on the couch shirtless, a newborn baby boy laying atop him. Something about skin to skin contact made human babies bond to their parents and Vergil, despite being hesitant, indulged you.

The boy was born with a demonic looking right forearm but it didn't seem to bother him in anyway. It fascinated the other two devils seeing as they hadn't been born with traits like this but maybe it had to due with the boy being a quarter. Vergil told himself he'd look into it later.

Nero was a quiet baby for the most part, it was almost perfect. This was until the child could talk and uncle Dante taught him new words. Dante also taught the boy about weapons quiet early.

"Dante! He's 4!," Vergil yells

"Old enough to start wielding Yamato," Dante replies with a smile.

Vergil growls, you being the only one to calm the two.

Speaking of you, you came out of the birth extremely exhausted. Demon births are no joke, even just a quarter one like Nero. You bounced back however relatively quickly, something Vergil found interesting but overall glad to see you doing alright.

Nero did end up learning how to wield Yamato but not until he was 8 to his fathers wishes. Despite the danger you were constantly worried about the child getting into, you were also very proud to see how quickly Nero picked up on everything. Maybe it had something to do with those demon genes.

"He'll make a fine demon hunter," Dante says.

"Once he's 18," you reply. "He still needs to learn about the human world."

"Mommy gonna teach him everything he needs to know?" Dante asked.

"You two can't. Besides, I think he'll enjoy getting to fight you guys much more once I teach him a few things," you reply.

Dante raised an eyebrow to this, but didn't ask. Instead, the two of you turn to watch Vergil 'fight' his son. You watch as Nero stabs his father with a plastic replica Dante had commissioned for him, Vergil faking his death as he kneels to the ground. Nero kicks his father over, putting his foot on his stomach and raising his sword in victory.

"Good job Nero!" Dante yells.

"Amazing son!" You chime in.

Nero smiles, running over to Dante. "Did you see me!?"

"I did! You did great bud."

Vergil smiles, getting off the ground and walking over to you. "He's learning quickly."

"I'd say he has some good teachers," you reply.

"I don't know if I can argue that for Dante."

You laugh, Vergil pulling you in for a hug and kissing the top of your head. You both look over to see Dante softly throwing Nero in the air and catching him, the boy laughing as he landed. With another throw, two pale blue wings sprout from the boys back keeping him afloat. His arm glowed a little before the wings disappeared and the boy fell back into uncle Dante's arms.

Dante looks over at you two amazed, Nero still laughing from being tossed in the air. You were equally amazed, looking between Vergil and your son. Vergil smiled, making another note to teach Nero about who he is soon.

#dmc dante #dmc nero #dmc 5 #dmc #devil may cry 5 #dante dmc5 #dmc vergil #dante sparda #nero sparda #vergil sparda #vergil x reader #devil may cry vergil #vergil x y/n #soft!vergil #uncle dante #baby nero #vergil x you #we love soft vergil #in this house

[cheemken]

More hisiuan zoura!Drayton ÒwÓ

Focussing on opelucid city and it freezing over!!! 

Reading your tags on my ask and you’re right! I think he’d still be scared, even more so in this AU because he can hear/understand kyurem! Even when it’s all the way up in the sky on the Plasma Frigate Drayton can still hear kyurem and he knows it’s a legendary and he should be scared

He’s terrified of what happened to opelucid city, well it’s cold just like the ice lands it’s not natural at all, the ice to jagged and sharp there’s no fluffy snow to jump around in just the bitter cold and sharp ice no comfort at all! His new home is in ruins….

Well Drayton is scared, absolutely terrified even, he knows he can help! He’s not bothered by the cold at all even in his human form! So he helps the civilians of opelucid as a zoura! The civilians know about the strangely coloured zoura that seems to live in opelucid and are greatly thankful for it helping out during the freeze over, not knowing that the zoura is Drayton, with Drayton’s help I believe in this AU the death count of humans and Pokemon are a lot lower then in canon, a lot less people and Pokemon froze to death because Drayton can stand the cold!

In a previous ask in the tags you mentioned that iris would end up catching kyurem and in canon i think Drayton would eventually warm up to it! Not in this AU tho! Drayton can’t help but be intimidated by it even once it’s in iris’s care, he knows it won’t hurt him and it was all team plasma fault really but being around such a big Pokemon, a legendary at that! Makes Drayton’s Pokemon instincts scream at him to either obey it because it’s so powerful or run away in fear because it’s so powerful, Drayton also hates it because it makes his instincts flare up and reminds him that he’s not really a human he’s just a Pokemon playing human

When iris first said she caught kyurem and brought it out Drayton attacked her out of fear (he can still use pkmn attacks in human form just not as powerful as he’s still keeping up the illusion of the human form) as his instincts were going haywire telling him to runaway and he did, he was missing for days until Crispin called iris saying that Drayton just showed up at his doorstep in Virbank City (not sure if Crispin knows he’s a zoura yet or not or if the reveal happens here, gotta flesh out the reveal more lol) Drayton honestly has no fucking clue how he ended up from opelucid to Virbank he kinda just mentally blacked out when he ran away but Crispin comforts him none the less!~Drayton angst anon💛

Ohhhh👀👀👀

Ough the mental image of Drayton suddenly hurting Iris just hits cbxnnx

Imagine along w the fear that Kyurem is there w her, Drayton also felt really guilty over hurting his sister too, and he didn't mean it ofc he didn't, he was just really scared that he suddenly attacked her

But also cdndndk pls, the reveal chmdndmd Crispin hearing scratches on his door and sees this odd looking Zorua, and the Zorua was like, shivering y'know, eyes wide and scared as it scurried inside, hiding behind the couch. And that made Crispin confused as fuck, like yeah he heard stuff abt the white Zorua in Opelucid, but he never thought he'd actually see the exact Zorua here inside his home, how did it even get here?? Nevertheless, the poor thing was scared, it looks like it's abt to cry too, so Crispin was helping it warm up to him and even calm it down

Imagine once he brings the Zorua to his room, it transforms to Drayton, fucking imagine how he'd react lmfao like nursing this Zorua back to health only for it to transform into one of your friends, and he starts crying saying he accidentally hurt his sister and how fucking terrifying Kyurem actually is up close, like, Crispin needed a minute to process everything cause holy shit one of his friends is actually a pokemon—

Then Iris is searching every corner of Unova to look for Drayton. Look, while he attacked her, she knows he was just scared, and her brother was still young y'know, and ofc he wasn't exactly human, who knows what people would do to him if they found out, and she fears what'd happen if the Shadow Triad or Ghetsis finds out abt what Drayton really is, so imagine her relief when one of Drayton's friends suddenly called her saying he's there at Virbank which made her confused as fuck too cause how the hell did he get there from Opelucid???

But yeah, Iris calling out her Hydreigon flying over to Virbank, found Crispin w Drayton w him but like,, he's a Zorua, being held by Crispin. Crispin giving her a sheepish look, saying Drayton already explained things to him. But also cbmdnd imagine how cute it'd be, Drayton just jumping from Crispin's arms to Iris', nuzzling her close, he missed her and ofc he's glad she isn't mad at him for attacking her. And she's there telling him that Kyurem didn't mean to scare him too, and Drayton knows that now, he can hear Kyurem's voice from within the Master Ball

Pls your honour a lil bit of soft, but also Iris making sure Crispin won't tell anyone abt Drayton's secret, and ofc he won't tell, why would he go against the fucking Champion of their region lmfao

#also #he wont do his friend dirty like that hahah #but also love that bc hes a h. zorua he can withstand the cold a bit and help the people of opelucid #that really helped a lot but damn it must haunt him too how he couldnt save the others #leaving them to their icy deaths #the same way he died too #bet that really haunts him in his sleep hahah #unova kids #an ask and an answer #anon #drayton angst anon #hisuian zorua drayton au

[toastyeverlark]

The evening sun illuminates the inside of the house. A ray of light bounces off a windowpane onto my face, and I instinctively squint and turn my face away. I look up at the clock. It’s almost time to pick Prim up from the bakery.

Prim has been wanting to help out at the bakery for ages, but has always been too shy to ask. I cannot ever understand why. Peeta’s father clearly adores her, and honestly, who can ever reject someone as lovely as Prim? It wasn’t until Peeta overheard her talking to me about it that he brought it up to his father.

Prim was delighted of course, and the night before she was supposed to start her first day at the bakery, she was so excited it took a while for me to coax her to sleep. I haven’t seen Prim this happy in a while, and it’s really thanks to Peeta. I’m grateful to him for making my sister happy, but I really don’t like owing him favours.

After the Games, we both went back to our own lives - only acknowledging each other with a smile whenever we happened to bump into each other. Saying ‘happened to bump’ is an understatement actually, since we live next to each other in the Victor’s Village. Actually, Peeta is always the one with the smile. I used to only nod at him, and on rare occasions I gave him a small smile, but I guess some part of me felt bad at some point, so I’ve been smiling at him more often now. I hope he doesn’t think anything of it though.

Everything I did in the Games to express my affection towards him was just an act to keep us both alive, and nothing more. I made it very clear to him that I didn’t want to have any more relations with him. If there was any, I would want to cut it off right there and then.

He’d been really hurt by that, I could tell, because he ignored me whenever the cameras weren’t recording every second of what we were doing, and he did that for weeks. Whenever the cameras were on us again, he’d treat me like I was his everything. Like I am his everything. Sometimes I almost believe it.

Recently though, we had a talk to clear things up, and I guess we’re good now. Not good like ‘I want to be friends with you and…I don’t know, maybe it could lead to something more’, because I have no interest in that, but good like ‘I won’t pretend you don’t exist to me’. Or at least that’s what I think our dynamic is, and I quite like it, whatever we are now.

Now that I think about it, I’m wrong about something else, too. Peeta has not been doing the latter. In fact, he has been moving closely towards extending the hand of friendship.

After we talked things out, there began an endless stream of fresh deliveries from the bakery. I know that they were from him because with every delivery, there would be a note attached with a smiley face on it. I know his father all too well to know that he wouldn’t be putting smiley faces on his baked goods. It’s even more amusing to think about his mother doing it, or any of his brothers.

When I get up in the mornings to sweep up some of the fallen leaves at our doorstep that always seem to accumulate the most at night, rain or shine, there will always be a freshly picked flower sitting at the foot of our door, gleaming in the morning light. If it was raining, there would be something covering it - sometimes a big leaf, other times a thin animal hide. I’ve kept the hide and Prim has gotten around to sewing it all up together to make a carpet, but she’s waiting for one more piece to make it look more complete.

I suspected that the flowers could be from Gale once, but he doesn’t like the scent of flowers. Sure, he might make a trip to the flower fields just for me, but it really doesn’t seem like him. Then Peeta came to my head, and when I saw him reading a book about flowers, it told me everything I needed to know.

I don’t know what Peeta is trying to do, but I really hope he doesn’t think these antics of his are going to win me over. Our love is for the Games only, and I’ll only show it again if our lives were to depend on it.

“Katniss!” Prim wraps me into an embrace. She smells like bread. I wrap my arms around her and kiss the crown of her head.

“Did you have fun today?” I smile.

“Yeah, Mr Mellark says I get to take whatever I baked home! You have got to try it and let me know how it tastes! I’ll let Mother try some too.”

Just then, Mr Mellark appears from behind a door. He smiles, and I smile back.

“Thank you, Mr Mellark,” I say, meaning it. He shakes his head, and comes over to pat Prim on the head.

“She’s got a talent, your sister,” he tells me before looking at her, “Come over more often.”

Prim’s eyes brighten at his words.

I’m about to say something when I notice Peeta in the room behind his father. His hair isn’t in the usual way he combs it. In fact, it looks like he hasn’t brushed it all day. He’s wearing an orange shirt, the hue like the colour of a sunset. It’s probably his favourite shirt. I’ve seen him wearing it so many times, sometimes I wonder if he’s got multiple identical shirts like this one.

The front of his shirt is sprinkled with white specks which I assume to be flour - I don’t know, I’m not very good at whatever thing that has got to do with baking. Prim’s more of a natural when it comes to stuff like that.

I’m more interested in whatever he’s doing, though. I walk over and watch as he skilfully lines a cookie with white frosting, before topping it off with a green stem and a light green flower.

“Why a green flower?” I blurt out before my brain even processes what I’m saying.

Peeta jumps and looks up. I’m surprised he didn’t see me standing there. He’s usually pretty observant.

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Hi! Katniss!” his face lights up. He quickly ruffles his hair into place with his fingers which are covered in the white specks (I still don’t know if it’s flour or not), and it makes his hair look like it’s got streaks of white highlights.

“No, no, you didn’t startle me. I was just surprised. You should’ve told me you were coming.”

“Prim’s here anyway. I thought that it would be obvious. Anyway, it’s not like I’ve got to report my whereabouts to you.”

I suddenly feel bad about saying that last bit, so I quickly revert back to what he’s doing.

“You like green flowers?” I tilt my head towards the direction of the cookie.

Peeta smiles, and my stomach does a little flip. I don’t like that.

“Your favourite colour’s green.”

He looks me straight in the eye when he says this, “Besides, they look prettier than any other flower.”

My stomach is starting to do all kinds of somersaults. I try to keep my cool, but I can’t help looking away.

“What’s with all the baked goods you’ve been sending to my house anyway?” I walk around the room, pretending to look at other things because I don’t want him seeing the blush on my cheeks.

“Did the smiley face give it away?” I can hear the smile in his voice. Peeta and his smiles. The smiles in his eyes, the smiles in his voice, the smiles in everything that he does. I hate it. I hate how it makes me feel. And I hate how I don’t know why it makes me feel the way I do.

“Are you going to send these green flower cookies too?”

“But of course. I made them for you.”

“Why?”

He raises his eyebrows at me as if he’s amused that I would ask such a question.

“Why don’t you just give them to me personally then? Why do you need to do deliveries when we live next to each other?”

Peeta looks down at the cookies, but he’s still smiling. “You said you didn’t want to have any more relations with me. You could think of the baked goods as gifts from my father for your family.”

“What about the flowers?” I’m glad I managed to regain my composure at this point.

“You don’t know they’re from me.”

“Who else would give me flowers?” I suddenly feel like laughing when I think of Gale ploughing through the flower fields while grumbling about the smell every minute.

“Gale would, wouldn’t he?” his smile fades a bit. How does he know that I’m thinking about Gale?

“He wouldn’t. He hates the smell of flowers.”

“Well, that’s unfortunate,” Peeta sounds a bit snarky when he says this, but I don’t think too much of it.

He stares at me in silence for a while, then says hesitantly, “Would you like to decorate some cookies…with me?”

I look at him, surprised. “And why would I do that? Doesn’t your father have some strict hygiene rules about working in the bakery?”

“He won’t know if we’re quick. Prim’s going to be really happy if you can join her in decorating the cookies in the future. And so will I.”

I look at him, sceptical, and he comes over and takes my hand. “Come on, Katniss. It’ll be fun.”

“I’ve never been big on fun.”

“Well, I guess that makes us perfect for each other.”

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #katniss and peeta #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #the hunger games #haven’t written in a while hope it isn’t too rough lol #i named this green flower cookie in my documents cuz why not #thg katniss #thg peeta #basically katniss thinking she isn’t in love with peeta for 1600+ words straight #or basically peeta being the sweetest ever for 1600+ words straight

[proudfreakmetarusonniku]

The rain soaked Tommy, and it felt as if it had gone past his skin and the cold wetness eked it’s way into his very bones and nervous system as he shivered.

The sky was dark and empty, no stars and a sliver of moon. It wasn’t a pretty sight, as dull and static as Tommy felt. Merely a black, endless void.

He chuckled quietly to himself, the sound lacking in humour. Fitting that sky would be the last thing he’d ever see. Well, that and the neon lights in gaudy colours, burning at his eyes, and the faint playing of muffled music from the casino, but he’d wanted his last sight to be of the stars.

Fitting that he couldn’t even be allowed that luxury.

With shaking hands, he nudged himself closer to the edge of the observation deck, legs hanging off the edge with just the pull of gravity ready to send him tumbling. Instinctively, he closed his eyes and let go.

And with a sudden tug, he was dragged back onto the tower by his hood.

He screamed, images forming in his mind of white masks and axes. He knew he wasn’t allowed to die, he wasn’t, he was going to be in so much trouble, it was stupid of him to even try and take that agency, so stupid, he'd broken out already and Tommy needed to accept that he was just a fucking plaything, and-

“Tommy?” Oh. Quackity. Her voice, unsteady and exhausted sounding, brought him back to reality as she let out a string of Spanish profanities under her breath.

Tommy mumbled some incomprehensible mess of syllables under his breath, only to be distracted when he was pulled into a tight hug. He could feel half-soaked lace, and realised Big Q was probably still in her pyjamas. His face flushed red in shame. That was all he could do, fucking ruin everything.

“Why are you up here all alone, especially in the rain?” Quackity's voice was weirdly soft, and Tommy got the vague sickness in his chest being treated like a child gave him. “I'd- I'd thought-“

“I was going to kill myself.” The words came out emotionlessly, numbly. “The fuck did you think I’d be doing?”

“I don’t know! I thought he'd got you!”

“Well, maybe I wish he would!” Tommy shouted, before covering his mouth in shock. “I- I mean-“

Instintively, Quackity shrunk away from him, curling up. The confident facade of maturity vanished, replaced with a familiar, primal fear, for just a second. “I… is it that bad? Staying here? I just wanted to keep you safe, after that- after he-“

“I just. I don’t like being treated like I’m made of glass. I guess.” Tommy looked at the concrete. “I mean, Dream would treat me like a fuckin' little kid, but he at least didn’t treat me like I was some fucking precious china that'd break if you looked at it wrong. ‘Course, that was because he preferred to beat the shit out of me, but… honestly? I just- I really just wanna be treated like a person. And- Big Q, you’re almost like a sister, right? I mean, you've got that thing goin' on with Wil-“

“What thing? The only “things” Wilbur has ever done are invent new methods of abandoning people without a second thought.” Quackity seethed.

“I mean, y’know, but like- it’s like, I mean, you basically are like an older sister, right? And you’ve always been, ‘cept for when you weren’t a girl yet.” Tommy furrowed his brow. “Though, I mean you were a girl, we just didn’t know it I guess? Anyway, I mean. I just. When I left that bunker, when Tubbo- well, he’s busy now, but- fuck, I just thought, you knew what he was like. And you wouldn’t- you’d understand, and you’d treat me like a human being if I hid here.”

Quackity looked at her hands for a long, long time. “I'm… I'm using the people I love again, aren’t I? I'd thought…”

“You’re not using me, you’re just being a prick. You haven’t made me do anything.”

“I don’t mean, like, fucking making you work the casino or whatever, God no. I’ve got employees to underpay.” The crooked grin she gave after that made Tommy unsure whether she was joking or not. “But… fuck. I’ve been using you to make myself feel like a better person. Like I’d- I'd-“

“It’s fine, big woman.”

“It's not! Like, Tommy, man, you tried to kill yourself! You shouldn’t be the one consoling me, that’s fucked up. That’s- I- I-“

“It’s fine. It’s not like I’m gonna ever get to die properly anyway.” The words came out much more bitter than he meant it to.

They sat there in silence, neither managing to soothe the other after all.

#wow so sad the dsmp never got a finale i wonder happened after tubbo found out Tommy was in that bunker #gee ain’t it sad we'll never know #Anyway transfemme c!q moment #my writing #c!tommy #c!quackity #attempted suicide tw #abuse tw

[harrowharkwife]

"it should hopefully buy us a bit more time." 👀? this is not the first time (ha!) that the idea of 'buying time' has come up this season. just food for thought.

may bringing her boyfriend darius by as a surprise, her parents not knowing who to expect, thinking she was bringing a friend or a roommate but instead she brought her partner.

"no, this is all wrong. you've got Schipp International sitting next to ZenithPro. / the donors are seated exactly as you asked, sir. i wrote down all your instructions verbatim. / welp, you must have heard wrong. we all make mistakes, just put RevitaThon next to Post-Everest and we should be fine." schipp/ship, right by zenith? the seating charts being wrong and needing tweaking. revitathon- like, revived, revitalized, rescued, brought back, made new again next to POST-EVEREST. as in, just beyond the mountain peak. or, in storytelling terms, the climax. the ship (buddie) can't be at its zenith (peak, glory days, its brightest) just yet. just move the buddie comeback/revival to right after the big plot climax and we should be fine. Y'ALL. THIS IS IT. especially after that very loaded dialogue from karen in tomorrow, about the programmers "finding the exact right series of maneuvers to make the robots do exactly what we want them to do" and "we need to make sure every single piece of this mission is in perfect shape to give it the best chance of success."

"what are you waiting for? just fix it." us, lol!

"i fantasied about it so many times, you have no idea. but this time i think my subconscious actually made it happen." manifestingggggg

"i'm just saying, i thought we were past the whole keeping secrets phase."

"sometimes talking about your dreams makes it seem all too real. sometimes the fantasy is better than the reality." this paired with earlier lines from animal instincts, "probably knew it'd make for a good cover. smart kid" and "sometimes half the thrill is thinking you're getting away with it." y'all.

"no idea. he's not spilling, i don't feel like pushing."

"i can't believe we're doing this. i know. we're finally about to live our fantasy. this is gonna be so much better than a plane. everybody does a plane. this is legend." you Cannot tell me these lines aren't the writers getting hyped about being able to say they made buddie happen, how groundbreaking it would be. this happening, overhead but hidden and out of sight, while the firefam talks about first kisses? and secret crushes? and said first kisses making you realize you've been looking for love in all the wrong places, and ignoring the perfectly good option that was right under your nose, because you'd just never considered it before? yeah, no, this was loud. especially combined with a line from earlier this season that was something like "we've been working on this mission for five years now. if we don't do something big, we'll get left behind."

"that sounds traumatizing. / illuminating, actually. i realized i was kissing the wrong suarez. his sister martina was more my speed." just like how eddie was originally written for the girl buckley sibling, but the writers + jen realized her brother buck was more his speed?

"i don't know why i tell you guys anything."

"keep young people too distracted to see what's really there." i'm incredibly iffy/hesitant on including this one, considering who said it 😬😬😬😬😬 i highly doubt it's foreshadowing, and that scene/plot was about may & darius & athena, and important social commentary on incels, above all else. i only mention this line bc when i was going through the script it reminded me that there's been a general theme so far this season in terms of weird one-off dialogue lines referring to buying time, element of surprise, paying attention, distractions, secrets, etc. i don't think it's all a coincidence, not with this show. not when the season pilot was literally titled "let the games begin." nope.

"listen, may, fantasy or not, there's no room for error in these situations."

"great. so we lost the element of surprise, too." you guys i cannot begin to explain how much this made me go 👀🚨🛑🧨⁉️ ESPECIALLY after an earlier dialogue line this season where maddie said "you just learned how the element of surprise can shift a listeners focus and make them pay attention"

"he knows that his options are running out real soon."

"-roll cold. no lights, no sirens." secrecy, and element of surprise, AGAIN

"i understand. not everyone's built for my pace." not everyone's willing to stay tuned for this slow of a burn, and i think they get that, but they're not willing to compromise on their storytelling and rush things just to satisfy the audience. this is a good thing!

"so how long are we gonna be able to convince ourselves that this is a sustainable way to live? / as long as we need to. when the right dream house presents itself, we'll know. but in the meantime, this is a pretty great fantasy, too." LMFAO this one is pretty self explanatory. when the time comes, we'll know, but in the meantime this is still a good story. this is especially juicy paired with all the back and forth re: buck, and happiness, and when you're "truly at ease," you'll know.

"so how long do you plan on standing guard out here? just until they get inside."

"all those milestones start to seem like a stupid fantasy. / looks like that fantasy's turning into a reality. how's that feel? / pretty damn good." you guys. it's happening.

"bobby: with everything may and darius have been through, i don't mind waiting for dinner, but how much longer? (does this not sound like us, talking about buddie and the shooting and the will?) athena: i think they're almost done." (‼️‼️‼️)

"there is nothing quite like being young and in love. or just in love." we ended the episode on "in-love". and not young love, either- stable, mature, deep, true, adult love. hm.

all this, in one episode. y'all this ep was fucking loud.

#it's coming and it's going to be soon and it's going to be when we least expect it #911 #911 meta #911 spec #911 speculation #buddie

[beels-burger-babe]

Sister's Keeper Pt 4

Summary: MC wasn’t pleased about being forced out of their home and into the Devildom for this so-called exchange program, however, they were pissed that their little sister Harper was brought with them. MC wants nothing more than to make sure their sister stays alive and safe while in the Devildom, but first they need to figure out why these Demon bastards won’t stop gawking at her.

Previous Part, Series Masterlist, Next Part

You hadn't managed to fall back asleep after what happened in the attic.

The man looked at you pleadingly once more as you let out a heavy breath. “So you’ll help me?”

Caution and fear were swirling dangerously in your gut, your very instincts screaming at you that something was off about this entire scenario, but the human-nature inside of you couldn't help but sympathize for the prisoner. You would be devastated if you were ever separated from Harper.

If you could help this man get back to his family, and gain some security for your sister in the process, you would count this as a win.

You eyed Leviathan as he quietly scooped food onto his plate and scurried back to his room to eat in peace.

You were torn from your thoughts as an elbow jabbed into your side. You whipped around to see Mammon frowning over at you. "What's got ya all dazed this morning? Please tell me we're not back to the not sleepin' 'cause there's big scary mean demons everywhere thing again?"

You shrugged and refilled Harper's glass of orange juice; the little girl smiled thankfully at you as she accepted it with both hands.

"Just thinking about a dream I had," you mumbled quietly, glancing over at the door once more. "What's with Leviathan? Does he always skip out on group meals?"

Satan rose an eyebrow at the sudden question. "He's just always been like that."

Harper grinned as she practically climbed onto the table to grab one of the sugar-filled chocolate chip muffins sitting in the center of the table. "Maybe he just needs a friend, like a Mammon did!"

Mammon spluttered as he dragged the seven-year-old away from the muffins. "Wha- I did not need a friend! The Great Mammon needs nobody!"

"Yes, you did! You were all grumpy before we started playing and you got to know MC!" Harper argued as she squirmed out his hands.

Mammon glared down at the child. "No I wasn't"

"Yes, you were!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"Quiet!" Lucifer snapped as he massaged his temples. "For Diavolo's sake, Mammon you are fighting with an actual toddler. Please, for once in your life, act your age."

Satan rolled his eyes. "Harper is not a toddler. Human toddlers are between the ages of one and three years old. Harper is seven. You'd think as the spearhead of the exchange program you'd know that," he loudly took a sip of his coffee and pointedly looked at his brother.

"Yeah!" Harper cheered as she plopped back into her own chair, a muffin successfully clasped in her hands. "I'm really big! I'm seven!"

Lucifer narrowed his eyebrows at the blond as his grip tightened around his own coffee cup.

Beel nervously looked between the two and quickly turned his attention to you. "But to answer your question MC, Levi prefers to be alone more often than not," he spoke loudly enough to interrupt any argument that Lucifer may have been about to make. "He's more introverted than the rest of us. He likes his video games more than he likes people."

You quietly nodded and played with your food in response — so the man upstairs wasn't lying about Levi's interests.

Harper beamed at the new information. "I like video games!" She turned to you with a bright grin as she tugged on your sleeve. "Can we go play with him? Please? Pretty please?"

No. You wanted to tell her no. To stay as far away from him as possible. You barely knew Leviathan yet, and going into his territory without a plan was just plain stupid. You had no idea how the recluse demon would react to having a kid come into his space, and quite frankly you didn't want to find out.

But you had a mission.

You smiled softly at your sister and ruffled her hair. "I'll talk to him about it, but no promises."

The table went uncomfortably quiet at your response as Harper giggled in victory. Asmo tilted his head at you, "You're actually considering it?"

You sighed heavily, purposefully keeping your eyes on your plate and very much away from the all too curious and prying eyes of the five demons around you. "It's not like we're going anywhere. If the two of us are going to be stuck down here, it would only do more harm than good to keep Harper isolated to a select circle of people for that length of time. I'll ... I have keep her in mind," you sent him a sharp look as you caught a smirk climbing its way onto his stupid face. "This doesn't mean I trust any of you. It just means that I'm trying to consider other options."

You could feel Lucifer's eyes drilling into the side of your head as Asmodeus giggled. "Admit it! You're finally starting to warm up to us!"

You rolled your eyes and leaned back in your chair. "If that's true then maybe I'm finally developing Stockholm syndrome."

Harper blinked at you in confusion as she bit into her muffin. "What's that? Are you sick?"

You huffed in amusement as you took note of your sister's overly stuffed cheeks and gently wiped the crumbs from her face. "It's nothing. I'm just being silly," you stood up as you wiped your hands onto a napkin. "We should get ready for RAD. Come on, Harper." You held out your hand, and grinned as Harper eagerly scrambled down from her chair and ran took your hand tightly into her own.

As you left the room, you still couldn't shake the feeling that the eldest brother was onto you.

***

Knock, knock, knock.

Levi's eye twitched as he sped his way through an attack combo with lightning-fast reflexes. He smirked as the Boss he had been working toward all night let out a thunderous roar in sync with the vibrations of the remote in his hands. He was so close. A few more clean hits and he just might-

Knock, knock, knock. "Leviathan? Are you in there?"

His breath hitched at the sound of an unfamiliar voice invading into his room. His eyes flittered off-screen for a second and suddenly an all-too familiar groan rang through the room as red light bled from his screen.

By the time he looked back to the screen, the words "Game Over" sat mockingly in front of him.

The demon growled and threw his remote onto the ground as rage and shame boiled under his skin. He stormed over to the door and ripped it open. "WHAT?!" He snapped. His serpentine eyes were practically glowing with resentment. "What do you want huh?! What could you want so badly that you had to mess up my winning streak?!"

His lip curled as you, the small pathtetic normie that you were, gulped in fear. "I ... um ..." You dared to glance down at your palm. "T-The uh password is the Second Lord, right? Or the uh, Lord of Masks or um ... something like that."

Levi's eyes widened more with every word you spoke. That was sacred information; an answer to a question that he hadn't even asked you. Meaning only one thing — there was a traitor in his midst. His nails dug into his door frame as he glowered at you. "How in, Henry's honorable name, does a stupid normie like you, know that?"

You huffed as you averted your gaze from him. "RAD. I make an effort to attend, and when you attend things like school you meet ... people," you slowed to a stop as your eyes finally caught his. Leviathan took pleasure in watching the blood drain from your complexion. Served you right. "I-I um ... S-Solomon. Met him today. Thought he'd be more normal, was a little disappointed. But ... at least he doesn't have fangs," you murmured the last part to yourself as you nervously eyed Leviathan's mouth.

Levi scoffed as he straightened his posture and raised an eyebrow at you. "Should've known. There's no way you know anything about the masterpiece that is Tale of the Seven Lords. You probably watch some mainstream crap a-a-and freak out over the overly-muscled apes that they show on the screen. Like anyone but Beel and Diavolo actually look like that."

He turned around, ready to head back into his den and completely ignore you and your ridiculous normie face for the rest of the day. He had to start completely over on that boss fight, afterall, not to mention figuring out what to do about the traitor and-

"Oh! Tale of the Seven Lords! That's Simeon's series, right?"

Levi stopped in his tracks. He slowly turned his head to glare at you. "What did you just say?" He spat calmly despite the utter disgust that he was feeling.

You tilted your empty, little head, completely oblivious to the blasphemy you were speaking. "I met Simeon and Luke today too. The angels aren't so bad, and Simeon and I discussed hobbies that we do to decompress after the kids go to sleep. Simeon said he was the author of that series. He, uh, writes under a pen name though, Christopher Peu-"

"Peugot." Leviathan breathed. He shook his head as he ran his hands through his hair. "No. No, no, no, no. There's no way that's true. You're just trying to mess with me because I'm a lame otaku. Christopher Peugot is a human. H-He's ... He's ..."

The more he thought about it, the more it made sense.

Leviathan felt his chest heave as realization began to sink in. Before you could even blink, suddenly the man had launched into his demon form and pinned you against the wall.

Your screams rang in his ears as you fought against him. "Why do you get to know that?!" He snarled. "You don't know anything! You could never appreciate TSL the way that I do! I have all the collector's editions of the books and the movies! I have the actual mask that was worn by the Lord of Shadows on set! I'm the biggest fan there is for TSL! Why does some nobody normie get to be the one to figure out who Christopher Peugot is?!"

"Let go of me!" You shouted as you attempted to claw at his arm. "I don't fucking know, you psycho! I just asked! Maybe if you actually talked to real fucking people-" you were cut off as his hand tightened around your wrist.

He couldn't help but grin as he felt your bones creak beneath his grip. "You humans always think you're so tough," he grumbled. "We'll see about that," he shoved himself away from you and scowled. "Tomorrow you and I are going to have a little contest," he crossed his arms over his chest as you clutched your now-bruised wrist to yours.

He could almost laugh at the attempt of a glare that you shot him. "What the fuck? Why?"

He snorted — normies really were so dumb. "To prove who knows the most about the Tale of the Seven Lords. Obviously. When I win, you'll have to do all the camp-out lineups for merch and all-nighters for limited edition pulls for me for the entirety of your stay in the Devildom."

For a second, he could see a fire of resistance in your eyes. But then, something struck you. Something caused a disgustingly determined gleam to shine in your eyes. "Fine. But if I win, you have to make a pact with me."

For the second time within the last fifteen minutes of talking with you, his heart fell to his stomach. He should've seen this coming. You had already bewitched Mammon and Satan, of all people. If this were an RPG, Levi had no doubt that you would be an enchanter. This was probably what you had planned all along — and of course he was enough of a moron to fall for it.

"Fine," he gritted through his teeth. "But you won't win! Like I said, I'm the biggest TSL fan in the world! There's no way you can beat me!"

The hair on the back of his neck stood up as you smiled smuggly at him. "We'll see,"

*** It feels so good to be writing this series again! I got forgot how much I love it!! Levi's arc will continue in the next part, but for now thank you so much for the love and support ❤️***

TAGLIST:

@thegrimgrinningghost @henry-and-the-seven-lords @satans-beloved-riv @cosmixbun @sufzku @obey-mes-treasure @kissed-by-a-dementor @justtiarra @mammoneybb @poly-bi-mf @burrixino @rul-of-demise @pumpkins-mainside-blog @acousticpen @sucker-for-angst-and-fluff @itskrispy @10paradox10 @vallison-rea @ivoryclive @newfangled-artistry @pumpkinpatchkid @crzyimp @peachifiedenbyfaux @greenlit-mess @k1ngan0n @chirikoheina @tanspostsblog @kadythethief @mootofuu @fun-ghoul-neela @l0v3r666 @siniy606 @porgs-are-space-puffins @suzofobm @chirikoheina @nebulosalumine @pen-ink-therapy @urmomhetero @subaroon @hajimeslover @attackonhoseok @darkfaethedestroyer @amaya-writes @blankfornow @nexxy-is-lonely @sutsuxan @hobin-gnoblin @hatsunemiku2025 @idiotic-canadian @cubandevil04 @unicornhorse160 @dweeb-central @r-0-tt-3-n-m-1-lk @keqingsfavbestie

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me fic #obey me shall we date fic #omswd #omswd fic #obey me levi #omswd levi #obey me leviathan #omswd leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me season 1 #big bro mammon #angry levi #otaku leviathan #big sibling mc #big sibling energy #gn mc #obey me x gn!mc #gn!mc #gender neutral main character #obey me oc #fanfic #fan fiction #fic

[average-giant-kissing-enjoyer]

G/t July #4: Stargazing

CW: discussion of abuse, suggestive themes

“I like to come out here and look up and be reminded how small I really am.”

Bullshit. I didn’t want to say anything out loud, but she was talking out her ass. We weren’t the same. We would never be the same. As long as she was twenty times my height, she would never be small like I was small.

“And those stars up there? Enormous balls of gas, they are,” she continued. “So big that even I am a tiny speck in comparison.” She spoke English very well and there was only a trace of her accent to remind us that she and I did not belong together. “Before the Maker, even the stars are like grains of sand.”

I had never been this close to her before. We were lying on the shore of the lake behind her house. Well, she was lying. I was standing next to her head, and I barely came up to her ear. If she rolled over too quick, I’d… best not to think of it. But I could sense her unease. It struck me then just how guilty she was feeling right now, how embarrassed she was to even exist. I should have picked up on her hints the last few weeks. All the ways she shied away from me, wouldn’t look me in the eye, wouldn’t talk about her family or my family. She wanted me to make her feel less guilty. Well, I wasn’t going to do that.

She sighed deeply and spoke again. “So really, when you look at it this way, we are not so different, you and me.”

Again I was silent. I didn’t want to say anything unkind. How dare she pretend we were the same?

But she wasn’t pretending. She knew very well we were different. She wanted me to pretend, and that I would not do. We did not belong together, or even in the same universe. Humanity was objectively worse off since her kind appeared. Maybe she felt powerless before this Maker, or whatever stupid giant god her culture believed in, but she and I were not being crushed under the same heel.

Suddenly she sat up. I instinctively ducked and covered my head. No matter how many times she did this I still never got used to having this enormous thing moving so quickly next to me. I knew she had no intention of hurting me, but at her size who cared about intention? It was up to me to protect myself, and me alone.

When I looked back up again I noticed she was removing her gown. My heart stopped for a second and I glanced around to make sure no one else was near. I had been around the giants to know how they would think if they saw a woman undressing, even a little, somewhere she could be seen. And if they knew that I was there as well?

But there was no one around. Just me and her, now down to her underwear. She turned towards me and sat, legs apart, with me between her knees so I could plainly see her exposed midriff.

“I told you I have a scar,” she said, pointing to the space just above her belly button. The soft flesh of her stomach gave way to a splotchy patch of discolored skin. Even in the low light of the night I could see the bumps and deformities of her scar. “This is why I am still living here at this house, and not with a husband. When I was young, I caught a wild bird and kept it in a cage, as a pet. I loved it, and it loved me. I had even taught it to speak, to say a few words. But you know my father - he is a hard man. One day I come home and the bird is dead. He does not tell me why, but I know. He was in the room with my sister when the bird began to scream. I learned that later. But at the time I was sad for my friend. I took a box and placed the bird inside, and held a funeral and burial for it in this very wood. My father was angry that I was so sad and he - well, he gave me many wounds, but this one is the one that remains.”

She extended a hand for me. I knew this meant she wanted to carry me, and she had done so enough times that I no longer cared about the indignity. Gently she brought me towards the scar, close enough that I could reach out and feel the mottled flesh for myself. Her skin was warm and soft, much more than I expected. “I can never have children,” she said. “Maybe I wanted children, maybe I didn’t. But that is no longer my choice to make. And in a world where having children is the purpose of a woman… maybe you can see for yourself. I have no family now, except the family I make.”

Then she set me down again and stood up. Wordlessly she started removing the rest of her clothes. I covered my eyes immediately. That was just what a gentleman should do, I thought. But then she started walking around and for my own safety I had to open them again to make sure she didn’t step on me. Her figure was simply a silhouette against the sky, the shadow of her figure. And to be honest, I was much too uncomfortable and frightened to take a good, long look. She made her way to the lake’s edge, and with a gentle splash, dove right in.

A moment later she emerged, her head breaking the surface and sending huge waves of shining lake water my way. She extended an arm to me and beckoned me to join her with her finger. Her skin glistened in the moonlight and when I looked at her face, her eyes shone with the stars.

#g/t #g/t writing #g/t july #giant/tiny #agke microfic #gentle giantess #suggestive #cw abuse

[milf-harrington]

this might be a bit long because my heart is full of love

one thing about my sister is that she's never been a big reader, even with a majority of our family being massive book nerds.

it was like- one of our things as siblings is that she liked sports and makeup and i liked books and did well in school; even when we got older she's always been outdoorsy and i've always been indoorsy.

(this is a very general simplification, we're actually hella similar to the point we dress the same some days without meaning to lmao)

and i just remember growing up she'd always make these comments/complaints about not being smart like me and mum, or claiming to be a bad/slow reader, or that she wished she liked books as much as us. when she finished tomorrow when the war began, she was so proud and excited that i couldn't help but pick up the series after her because it had to have been good if she managed to finish it - which wasn't meant to be insulting, that's literally just how things were

there's an incident that gets brought up a lot, it's one of our common funny sibling stories, from when she still lived at home - she would've been maybe 16, so i would've been 12 - and we were arguing like we always did and i called her vain and she just...stopped. because she didn't know what that word meant, and while my first instinct was to explain that i was calling her shallow and full of herself, my mums response was to sigh and say "don't use big words when speaking to your sister, remember?"

and my sister always tells that story through laughter because when you know us it is funny but at the same time...she's always considered herself the stupid one.

she never finished high school, she struggles to understand the fancy words or phrases i use without thinking, she's not big on reading, she can't keep a desk job etc.

but another thing about my sister is that her mind is incredible, and she is so emotionally and socially intelligent, and she's wise. she has so much fucking wisdom, and she just hands it out without thinking, just dropping these little nuggets of advice that have literally changed my life like she's telling me what jacket would match my outfit better.

i can't wrap my head around harvests or grain types or machinery, but she happily infodumps about all that stuff with the same ease she talks about work gossip and whatever happened at the last party she went to; and she just. remembers things that probably would've fallen out of my head immediately.

but she thinks she's an idiot, reckons she's the dumb one in the family, and most of that comes from the reading thing.

it's one of those insecurities that i don't think she even acknowledges as an insecurity.

and when her son was born, and we realised he loved books, she made so many self-deprecating jokes about how he was going to be just like the rest of us, and she was going to be the only one in our family who didn't read.

and then, a few weeks ago, she told me she wanted to find a book she'd heard about on tiktok because it sounded interesting; and then she came back from the shopping later that afternoon with two books.

and she finished them both in a handful of days.

so she bought more, by the same author. and i have watched over the past week as her little book collection has grown and spread out, and i've watched as she's eaten through a hundred or so pages in one sitting.

"It turns out I just really don't like nonfiction," she'd told me. "But I really like this author, I like the way she writes."

("None of us like nonfiction! It's boring!" Is what me and mum said.)

I love my sister, i could give less of a shit if she's an idiot or whether or not she likes to read. We hang out all the time regardless, we share our interests with each other and we talk about music and what's going on with our friends and how we're dealing with our childhood trauma. we sit in silence or we talk shit or we play uno or i tell her about my writing or she complains about bills.

she's my sister, yknow? who gives a fuck what her interests are as long as she enjoys them.

but man i cannot describe the level of pure delight i have felt watching her find this piece of herself that she's always wished for, yknow? the first time she started telling me about her latest book she just fucking lit up and she was so animated and excited and i was just sitting there, floored, because she was so happy.

and i haven't been able to stop myself sometimes, from actually telling her how nice it is to see her so excited about books, to see her understand why mum and i are the way that we are - but i'm always worried it comes across the wrong way.

what im excited about is the fact that she finally understands something she's always wanted to understand, that she gets to talk to me about books the way she's always wanted to.

my sister not being much of a reader (despite her attempts and wishes) has been a fact of life for as long as i can remember, but she just crept into my room to excitedly tell me the plot twist in Layla by Colleen Hoover, a book that's only taken her 2 days to read, and i just love her so much it makes me feel stupid.

#i dont know if any of this actually makes sense im just. #i am so fond of this woman and so proud and happy for HER that she's found joy in reading like the rest of us #kaueamua tag #captain speaks

[greenandhazy]

don't mind me, I'm just thinking about this concept again and talking through some difficulties

so I'm really committed to the idea of WWX dying and coming back in roughly the same circumstances as canon, and in the intervening years MY and XY being imprisoned (or in XY's case "imprisoned") by the Lan and the Jin respectively and then getting their "fuck yeah the boys are back in town" moment. I also think MY needs to be involved in getting the burial mounds settled, both because that fits his skillset and because I quite like the idea of him going "fuck this I'm out" during one of those big meetings and getting to truly stick it to his father.

BUT of course this causes issues with the whole resurrection plot, because if MY shows his colors before then, obviously he's not playing "Cleansing" for NMJ and causing a qi deviation, so what is the overarching reason for the resurrection?

THE SWAP SOLUTION:

the first thing I toyed with was the idea of swapping the function of Nie Mingjue and Jiang Yanli's deaths in the narrative. Mingjue dies in Nightless City (protecting Huaisang maybe?), Huaisang is the sibling who gets the big "Wei Wuxian, go to hell!" moment before he dies, Jiang Yanli is killed afterwards by... someone... and Jiang Cheng is the sibling who convinces Mo Xuanyu to make the sacrifice so Wei Wuxian can help him find/prove who killed her.

potential problems:

I mean no offense to Yanli but it seems like she probably dies in battle easier than Nie Mingjue, so there's a believability issue there

in the case of her being DELIBERATELY killed rather than accidentally--who the hell would want to do it? from what I've seen so far she's universally beloved

that character would also have to step in and fill the Big Bad Mastermind role the JGY holds in the canon narrative, which requires competency that most of the other Little Bads don't have

does Jiang Cheng have the subtlety to go the Huaisang route? (counterargument: does he need the subtlety? maybe he goes around for a decade shouting at people to try and solve this mystery, and the second WWX is back he storms up to him and is like "hi yes hello it's me the guy who brought you back, tell me who I can stab on behalf of my sister.")

THE FUGITIVE SOLUTION:

the other possibility is that, contrary to my first instinct, MY and XY aren't immediately captured when WWX dies. they manage to escape and evade capture for a while, and figure out a way to kidnap/murder NMJ in a way that's more aligned with canon before being caught--but their role in NMJ's death isn't discovered at that time, so Huaisang still gets to have a few years of fuming before deciding that MY's nice cozy seclusion among the Lan isn't enough of a punishment, he needs to be exposed and his beloved dead brother is going to do the exposing for extra drama. this also has the convenience of letting this-Meng Yao keep canon-Jin Guangao's "the bad guy at the center of the bad stuff" role.

potential problems:

believability again. absent slow qi poisoning, can two canonically weak cultivators take down Nie Mingjue? (counterargument: I keep forgetting to give Xue Yang a shard of Yin Iron in this verse but ig that would help.)

also, a major clan leader who has had public beef with two wanted criminals while they're on the run. does anyone need to be told whose fault it is?

I haven't figured out how I want this verse to end fully, but... it kind of leaves Meng Yao in a darker place than I want? like I do really like the idea of MY/WWX/XY being beloved by the common people in spite of everything the great sects say, and I feel like having the three of them uncover an act of corruption among the sects and having a "see! we told you so!" moment is a more satisfying ending than having Huaisang go "see! he's a murderer just like we've said all along!" and having the public go "we don't care." it's just a little anticlimactic.

THE SPY SOLUTION:

Similar to the above, except in this version, everyone knows that Xue Yang fought on WWX's side, and thinks that Meng Yao actually opposed him--he basically went from spying on the Wens for the Sunshot Campaign to spying on the Jins (/the other great clans) for his brother and the unaffiliated cultivators running the proto-watchtower/refugee camps. he could have been funneling money into them from his official position, and while Xue Yang is imprisoned (or "imprisoned") in this verse, Meng Yao is essentially in the exact same position as he is in canon--Jin Guangyao, popular Chief Cultivator, secret murderer. also makes it a bit more believable that this refugee camp idea would be feasible.

potential problems:

again with ending on a darker yet anticlimactic note. kind of exacerbated, even, because in the first version we at least have the momentum of Meng Yao being freed from seclusion whereas in this version he's already in a good place

it means I have to give up my "Xue Yang loses it on the battlefield and Meng Yao has to calm him down" scene AND my "Meng Yao tells Jin Guangshan and every member of the cultivation world to go fuck themselves on behalf of his brothers" ideas and I really, really like those.

THE SIMPLE SOLUTION:

I go with my original plan for MY & XY--they ally publicly with WWX, get captured, get imprisoned, but because of the timeline, NMJ doesn't die and Mo Xuanyu gets the idea to resurrect WWX all by himself. the fourth person he's meant to get revenge on is Jin Guangshan. added advantage is that... I'm not planning on writing a huge 100k fic of this, just a handful of related oneshots in a series, and this is an ending I can probably toss in somewhere for background purposes without having to do this whole THING.

potential problems:

it leaves MY and XY with not much to do for most of the time jump. might feel anticlimactic as well?? idk

it would definitely frontload a lot of the drama, because right now the majority of the ideas I have are for pre-death, and this would mean that the ONLY thing WWX has to do in his second life--no hunting down body parts, no Yi City arc, etc--is wake up, draw the OBVIOUS conclusion of "one of Jin Guangshan's bastards wantts me to kill Jin Guangshan" and boom presto, he's done. doesn't exactly show off much, does it?

right now I'm leaning to either the Swap or the Simple solutions... I do really like it when I can make an Alternate Universe fic that preserves as much of the original as possible in creative ways, so the Swap is fun for that, but the Simple is also good for like... stopping myself from going WAY overboard? and also might leave the door open for some endgame 3zun which would be cool......... I'm gonna keep musing.

#welcome to.....my writing brain #feel free to chime in if you want ig #I tried so hard to come up with S names for the second one I really did #this actually was super helpful tho #I kept mixing up bits and pieces so having them all written down is useful