#and I think there are real flashes! But she kind of won’t … give you any more of him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

arachine · 1 year

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. . . 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 ! ˚₊✩‧₊

— pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

general tags: college! au, established relationship, fluff, suggestive

content warnings: period cramps, reader is a baby, ellie is patient, kissing, allusions to sex, brief mention of dealer!ellie + not proofread and also not my best work bc i was in pain !

note: this is super self-indulgent bc i am, unfortunately, on my monthly, and so, i am making it everyone’s problem >.<

ellie’s annoyed. actually, she’s concerned—maybe, slightly, kind of more than that too, but right now, she’s annoyed. this wasn’t like you—not answering messages, not answering calls.

she’d understand it if you were busy, especially since finals season was steadily approaching as the days passed, but she knew you didn’t have any plans today. that much was confirmed the last time she’d spoken to you, which was, if she could recall (she could recall it perfectly), last night at 8:00 p.m.

future wife 👰‍♀️: gn baby, see you tomorrow for breakfast! get some sleep ok? <33

ellie: alr goodnight baby. i’ll come get you at 9 ok? don’t oversleep this time, wanna get some french toast before all the athletes take it :/

future wife 👰‍♀️: never gonna let me live it down, huh?

ellie: never!

future wife 👰‍♀️: god alr, i won’t oversleep!!! promise :3 now gn fr this time!!! gts!!!

ellie: ok bossy i’m going to sleep 🫡 love you

that was the last message she’d sent to you that night. this morning, however, she made an effort to send you a slew of follow-up texts before making her way over to your dorm:

ellie: good morning sexy, you up?

ellie: it’s french toast time ☝🏻

ellie: don’t tell me you’re sleeping…

there was five minutes sent in-between each message, and yet, still no response. that’s when she got the bright idea to call.

“alright, this should wake her up,” she raised the phone to her ear, pacing around her apartment while waiting for the line to go through. to her dismay, it rung a few times before going straight to voicemail—to which she almost got excited over because you’ve got one of those annoying ass voicemails that sound like someone picked up the line.

“hey […], this is (name). sorry you can’t reach me right now, but leave a message and i’ll get back to you as soon as i c—”

“fucking hell.” ellie pinches the knot between her brows and sighs, ending the call before voicemail you can finish your sentence. again, she calls, thinking this time you’ll answer, but to no avail. it goes right to voicemail.

“the fuck…” she doesn’t even bother leaving a message. beelines right to her closet and grabs her sneaks, a hoodie, and her wallet, then heads out of her apartment building and begins the trek to your dormitory.

when she gets there, she buzzes in with her student keycard, and pads right up to the security desk. just as she’s about to open her mouth, one of the guards sitting interrupts her.

“can i see your proof of residence, please?” he says blankly, raising a fig bar up to his mouth.

“randy, really? you know me, i’m here almost every other day—just without my girlfriend—who i’m actually here to see,” she raises a finger, forearms leaning forward over the desk. randy feigns indifference, and opts to stuff the last of his bar in his mouth.

“you’re not a resident here, ellie. sorry, but you know the rules.”

“how about you shove the rules up your a—actually, that’s alright. my buddy right here will sign me in as a guest.” she grins devilishly at the dark haired man across the lobby, blinking once, twice, before flashing him a smile.

“jesse! my life saver, my best-friend, my messiah, my—“

“what do you want, ellie?” he rolls his eyes, pulling out his student keycard to flash randy. ellie purses her lips as if she’s been found out, then pulls jesse aside by the cloth of his jacket. she leans in real close so that what she says is out of earshot.

“sign me in as a guest and i’ll give you free weed during your next visit,” she bargains, wiggling her brows like she knows the offer is too good to pass up. jesse doesn’t answer her right away. instead, opts to tease her. puts his index finger on his chin, and opens his stance as if he’s really mulling it over. ellie’s not impressed.

a beat, then, he shrugs, mumbling a quick ‘better keep your word williams’.

ellie grins, something real big and cheshire-like, because she knows him. who’d be stupid enough to pass up free weed? exactly, no one. especially not a stressed college student, that’s for sure.

“thanks man, you’re really doing me a solid, you know,” she pats his back, to which he mutters a knowing ‘yeah, yeah, whatever’. she watches intently as he signs her in under his name, then makes a face at randy when she hands over her student keycard for him to keep.

“see ya later rand’!” the auburn haired girl says with the flick of a hand, turning the corner of the desk to get to the elevators.

“yeah, whatever.”

. . .

once the elevator comes to a halt on your floor, ellie gives jesse a final thank you before departing. as she walks down the winding hallway, she can’t help but to think the worst. what if you were unconscious? what if you’d been axe-murdered? what if you’d been kidnapped? all very unlikely, she knows, but not impossible.

when her mind sifts through a few more frightening scenarios, she realizes she’s already made it to your door. should she knock? she feels like she should knock, but then she figures if all her previous attempts to wake you up were unsuccessful, then who’s to say a few measly knocks would do the trick?

she decides against it. instead, she unhooks her carabiner from her jeans and fiddles around with her set of keys until she finds the spare you’d given her. until now, she’d never used it. the day you’d given it to her, you’d told her it was strictly for ‘emergencies’, and what better time to use it than now? this was surely an emergency, right?

the door unlocks and she immediately goes to twist the knob, pushes the door open and then shuts it closed behind her.

“babe, you here?” she calls out, walking through the kitchen, “you alive?” turns down the hall, “you in one piece?”

a beat. silence—save for the heavy padding of her boots as she makes her way towards your bedroom. the door is cracked open, just by a sliver, but she can see—or at least somewhat make out—the beginnings of a sleeping silhouette.

she pushes the door open and ambles to your bedside. you were fast asleep. curled up into a tight little ball with the duvet pulled up to your chin, and a mean little pout on your lips. it was adorable, and it made ellie’s heart twang with relief. at least now that she was able to verify your safety, she could forget all those terrible thoughts that she was getting herself all worked up over.

“hey, sweet girl,” she cooed, brushing the pad of her thumb over your cheek. your brows cinched in response, but you didn’t move. not even an inch. “baby,” ellie drawled in a sing-song voice.

she let her hand fall from your cheek to your back, and she rubbed it in slow, steady circles in an attempt to rouse you. after a while of this—a combination of her rubbing and cooing—you started to react.

“mmm,” you groaned, curling your knees up higher, “it hurts.”

“what hurts? what’s wrong?” opening your eyes, you were able to pair the voice of concern with a familiar face.

“ellie? what are you doing here?”

she lets a small chuckle escape her lips, then raises a hand to rest atop your head.

“what am i doing here? what are you doing here? had me worried sick about you,” she smooths a hand over your head, “missed our breakfast date.”

sighing, you slap a clammy hand over your head, then reach over ellie to grab your phone from the nightstand.

ten messages. three missed calls.

“god, i’m sorry, bellie. took some midol and melatonin last night so that i could beat these cramps, but i guess they worked a little too good, huh?”

“yeah, you nut.” she takes a glance at your nightstand and picks up the bottle of pills, shakes them around before settling them back down. “how many did you take?”

“just two…maybe three?” ellie’s eyes widen in disbelief.

“three? babe, these are 500 mg. why would you do that? the bottle says take two every six hours, and here you are taking more than the recommended amount, on top of taking melatonin,” she chides, though, it’s more out of genuine concern than it is her actually being upset.

you laugh at your own expense, but it’s short-lived because a second later, you’re clutching for your belly and writhing in pain.

ellie sighs, kicks her boots off and fully climbs up onto the bed and under the covers. once she settles into a comfortable position, she pulls you into her side.

“i know, baby, let me take care of you,” she strokes your back soothingly, “but next time, please don’t take that much. were you planning on sleeping forever?”

“maybe.” you jest, snuggling further into her warmth. admittedly, mixing both of those drugs was kind of stupid—maybe really stupid, but in your defense, you were in pain!—and really desperate. when you have cramps this bad, sometimes death sounds like mercy.

“oh, yeah?” the laugh she lets out is a deep rumble, and you can feel the vibrations of it as you lay on her chest. it’s soothing. a remedy that you should’ve utilized sooner, and you would’ve, had you been in the right headspace.

“mhm…” you purr, looking up at her, at her lips. ellie scans your face for pain, then dips down and pilfers a kiss from your lips. it’s slow, and sweet, and ends far too soon for your liking. before she can pull away, you tug her by the collar of her shirt. look up at her with pleading eyes, and fist it tighter between your knuckles.

“more,” you drawl, pulling her back down to meet your lips. she indulges you, because of course she does, and pushes you onto your back.

“thought,” a kiss, “your,” another, “cramps were bothering you?” she queries, breathless as she holds herself up above your sprawled out body. she thumbs with the hem of your shirt, waits expectantly for you to answer.

“they are,” you say, “so why don’t you make ‘em go away?”

and what kind of girlfriend would she be if did otherwise?

#:: — LEXI WRITES !#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x reader fluff #ellie williams fluff #ellie william x you #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams

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momokarp · 3 months

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Heyyyy I saw your Danny Phantom comic about him reading the Great Gatsby during the fight with Vlad (great art btw), and I was wondering if u could give a long-suffering student a rundown of the themes?

I’m gonna cover the themes I can think of off the top of my head and if you really need me to go into more details, I CAN??? But this is just a quick “it’s 7 in the morning for me and I’m actually gonna hyperfixate real quick” kinda moment.

Yes, there are two kinds of rich people, and yes, one side really doesn’t like the other. It’s apparent in Tom and all of his opinions of Gatsby are later on in the book when he finally attends one of his fancy parties.

Old money gets their opinions and styles and tastes from their parents who got it from their parents. It’s a boys club, if you’re in? You’re in, and it’s hard to get in unless you’re of a certain pedigree.

New money? Loud. Outrageous. Doesn’t even know what to do with all that money and everyone is welcome to enjoy it. Gatsby owns a BRIGHT ASS YELLOW CAR not because it’s of a certain model but because it screams loud and expensive and “look at me” and it’s not just cause he’s trying to get with your wife. He knows how to ACT like old money, to a certain degree, but at the end of the day, he can’t hide that he wasn’t born into it.

An unreliable narrator is usually a story told from a first person point of view and their own biases can often warp the reader’s perspective on the events unfolding. Nick even tries to clarify that he doesn’t judge people. Yeah, OUT LOUD, but he’s judging internally. Which is making you, the reader, judge. Tom has an affair with Myrtle Wilson. Nick IS quietly judging them although he tries not to and how could he not? Daisy is his cousin, and he sees the man she’s married make her move away from Chicago and Tom is not hiding his affair very well, she clearly knows about it and hates it.

Oh but here comes Gatsby, with this beautiful story of how he fell in love and went to war and couldn’t be with her and came back and she’s MARRIED and now he’s trying to win her back- and Nick HELPS HIM. THAT’S NOT UNBIASED. HE IS SWAYED. He sides with Gatsby through and through, even when he starts to see the flaws in Gatsby’s vision, he wants to cheer for him.

We’re going back to the green light here for a minute. Gatsby gets a house DIRECTLY ACROSS the lake from where Daisy’s is. There’s the green light at the end of her dock that flashes, that’s a reminder to Gatsby when he looks out that his dream is just over there. Daisy, the perfect gal, along with acceptance into the fancy rich lifestyle. He wants to meet her parents, he wants to have kids with her, he wants to be a somebody, an established respectable person.

But he’s kind of fooling himself too. He wants too much. It’s not enough to have Daisy, she needs to RENOUNCE her ever loving Tom and then properly marry him. He wants to be a part of the boy’s club, but Tom finds out that he has gained his wealth through the mafia and that’s not very respectable! He wants Daisy to call him in the morning, a call that never comes because she won’t cast aside her lifestyle for him. She was raised to trust and live in the sheltered life she was brought up in, even if she’s unhappy. It’s safer than the unknown. She chooses to stay with Tom, as even she realizes she can’t live up to Gatsby’s ideals.

It’s ironic cause this is the Oxford English Dictionary definition and Gatsby is an “Oxford Man!” Not only has Gatsby idealized on the American Dream, but it’s a dream that was never real. Yes, he did get rich, but not because he had equal opportunities. He got lucky to help out an old rich man on his boat (WHICH HE DIDNT EVEN GET ANY MONEY FROM) to learn the rich social skills, and he worked with the mafia to get all his wealth. Yes, he got Daisy, but not REALLY. He had an affair with her. They didn’t marry properly, didn’t have kids, didn’t move in together. And Daisy never intended on doing any of these things. She wanted to run away.

And Gatsby was never going to get these things because he wasn’t BORN rich. Tom represents the concept of Old Money so well not only in how he lacks any genuine character that isn’t inherited from his father, but how protective he is of keeping the status quo, so that he remains in power and no one who doesn’t fit the club can come in.

And Gatsby pays the price of his affair while Tom gets away with everything. How is this the American Dream? It isn’t.

Okay, that’s my stuff. I can go into symbolism on the yellow car and big billboard and all that other stuff if this was helpful at all. I hope it is helpful???

#the great gatsby #I am not an English major #momoask #can’t believe I got this ask because I made a Danny phantom comic #that’s so wild

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artiststarme · 1 year

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Steve's Vecna Vision

The angst continues! This is kind of based on a prompt from @newtstabber. I hope you guys like it and please leave your thoughts in the comments!

~*~*~*~

They were all in Max’s trailer trying to come up with a plan to kill Vecna. Robin was ranting, the kids were talking over everyone, and Dustin was being bossy as per usual. Meanwhile, Steve was tuning in and out of the conversation. The bites in his sides throbbed with every heartbeat, his head pounded mercilessly, and the ligature marks around his throat pulsated. He was trying to push through the pain and stay strong for the rest of the group but it got harder with every minute.

He tuned back in as he heard Dustin call Vecna/Henry/One defenseless.

“Defenseless? Yeah? What about the army of bats?” He pointed out, gesturing to his own cut up neck.

“Right, true. We’ll have to find a way past them, distract them somehow,” Dustin nodded as if his plan wasn’t a suicide mission.

“And uh, how do we do that exactly?” Eddie asked, wiggling uncomfortably in his seat.

“We give up Steve,” Dustin said matter-of-factly.

Steve’s head snapped up to look at him, “What?”

“We don’t really need you, Steve. This isn’t a basketball game or a ride to the arcade so you’re kind of useless,” he said monotonously. Dustin’s face was as calm as ever and looking around to the other faces in the room, they looked the same.

Even Robin and Nancy appeared as if they were considering the idea.

“Dustin? What do you mean give me up? Is this like a bait situation like the junkyard, what do you mean?” Steve asked him desperately, he was begging for any other explanation than the one that was forming in his mind.

Was his life really so meaningless that the kid he considered a brother would sacrifice him just like that? He didn’t even mention any other possibilities, his mind went straight to ensuring Steve’s death. Wow, great friend that kid.

“C’mon Steve, you’re the only one who no one would care about if you died. Your parents haven’t been home in what, eight months this time? They won’t even notice if you don’t go home,” Steve’s eyes narrowed at Dustin. He never told him about his parents.

He looked around the living room of the trailer. All of his friends looked like them but there was something off. Robin and Eddie were completely still. They were never completely still, too full of energy to never not be fiddling with their hands or talking a mile a minute. And Robin wouldn’t entertain the idea of using Steve as bait. She was his Platonic with a capital P soulmate, there was no way she would be letting Dustin talk to him like that.

“Vecna? Or do you go by One? Henry? I don’t really know what to call you.” Steve spoke with confidence but the anxiety running through his veins only made his body hurt more.

“Steve Harrington, how do you know my name?” A booming voice trilled around him.

“It doesn’t matter how I know, we’re going to stop you.” All of a sudden, the facades of his friends disappeared and in their place stood a towering figure. His body was shed of skin, fully exposed muscle and gore. His hands were elongated fingers with claws still dripping with the blood of his past victims.

“You cannot stop me. But you’re welcome to see what will happen if you try.”

Then, Steve was alone in a darkened version of the trailer. Vecna/Henry/One was gone. The sky outside was dark and thundering with flashes of red lightning. Animalistic squeals filled the air, all too reminiscent of the bats that had decided to make Steve their chew toy just a day prior. He was in the Upside Down.

Steve didn’t even have a chance to try and find a gate or start singing his favorite song in an effort to lift this curse. He didn’t even know if this was real or if he was having a nightmare. He didn’t have time to think about anything before he heard screaming.

“HELP! STEVE HELP! STEVE!”

“Dustin? Dustin?! Where are you?” Steve couldn’t tell if this was real or not. But he could hear Dustin screaming for him amongst panicked cries filled with pain. So, he ran towards him.

What he found would forever haunt him. Dustin was surrounded by demobats, he had his spear in one hand and a shield in the other but they were useless against the sheer force of the hungry bats. Steve watched in slow-motion as the first bat circled its tail around Dustin’s neck and pulled him to the ground. He couldn’t speak as the other bats latched their razor sharp teeth into his neck, his chest, his abdomen, and his limbs.

By the time his feet unfroze, it was too late. Dustin could hardly breath through the thick blood he was coughing up and half of his body had been mauled beyond repair. Steve could do little more than cradle his head as he tried fruitlessly to put pressure on the wounds.

“Dustin, oh my god. Dustin! I’m so sorry, Dustin. Please stay awake, I’ll get you out of here. Please,” Steve begged him.

“Steve, this is your fault,” Dustin whispered.

“What-” He asked brokenly.

“You-you killed me, Steve. You killed me…”

“What? No, no, no, Dustin! I didn’t do this. Please, wake up! Stay awake Dustin, come on. C’mon Henderson, wake up! Please!” Steve screamed and sobbed, he begged for him to come back. But Dustin was gone and he was right, it was Steve’s fault. Because he had frozen when Dustin needed him which cost him his life.

It felt like years that Steve sat there hugging Dustin’s body, crying brokenly in the face of a pain he never thought he could feel. And when he looked past Dustin’s body back towards the Munson trailer, he saw the mutilated body of Eddie Munson laying there. He’d given his life to protect Dustin’s but he’d failed in his quest.

A new wave of tears started for Steve and he screwed his eyes shut to avoid looking at the bodies of his friends that he never wanted to see.

~*~*~*~

Steve felt a pulling sensation in his chest before he fell. His stomach dropped and he gasped before falling to the ground where he hissed in discomfort as a white-blinding pain swept through his wounds.

“Oh my god, Steve?” Dustin pushed past Nancy and knelt down beside him. “Steve, is it the bites? Do you have rabies?”

Steve flinched away from his comforting hands and burst into embarrassingly loud tears. Dustin was alive? He sobbed with a force that shook his entire body and it only got worse when he looked into Eddie’s panicked eyes. Eddie was alive too?

He avoided their prying questions and shrunk away from their searching hands. He didn’t deserve comfort, not after what he’d seen, what he’d done. But he couldn’t shy away from his best friend. Robin fell to her knees at his side and pulled him into an all-encompassing hug. He would be okay. He’d get over this, he’d try to forget the horrors he saw, and he would kill that bastard if it was the last thing he did.

(And it would be.)

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#the angst continues!#the party is really confused because Steve was just standing there and then suddenly he was falling to the floor and bursting into tears #They think its rabies so they're all sad themselves #the plan doesn't work and Steve dies alongside Eddie when the bats come #stranger things #steddie #fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #dustin henderson #vecna/henry/001

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bestloversfan · 1 year

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We're in 2023, and there are still people trying to argue that Katniss was aro/ace and never felt romantic/sexual attraction for Peeta... 🤦🏻‍♀️ I could write a long meta about this for the milionth time, but this time I'll do something different. I'll just show some quotes from the books.

If she was unable to feel romantic/sexual attraction and only ever had platonic feelings for him, what are all of these quotes supposed to mean?

"He gives me a smile that seems so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness that unexpected warmth rushes through me." (The Hunger Games)

"This is the first kiss that we’re both fully aware. Neither of us hobbled by sickness or pain or simply unconscious. Our lips neither burning with fever or icy cold. This is the first kiss where I actually feel stirring inside my chest. Warm and curious. This is the first kiss that makes me want another." (The Hunger Games)

"So, in a way, my name being drawn in the reaping was a real piece of luck,’ says Peeta. For a moment, I’m almost foolishly happy and then confusion sweeps over me. Because we’re supposed to be making up this stuff, playing at being in love not actually being in love." (The Hunger Games)

[...]"His face takes on a special look when he concentrates. His usual easy expression is replaced by something more intense and removed that suggests an entire world locked away inside him. I’ve seen flashes of this before: in the arena, or when he speaks to a crowd, or that time he shoved the Peacekeepers’ guns away from me in District 11. I don’t know quite what to make of it. I also become a little fixated on his eyelashes, which ordinarily you don’t notice much because they’re so blond. But up close in the sunlight slanting in from the window, they’re a light golden color and so long I don’t see how they keep from getting all tangled up when he blinks.

One afternoon Peeta stops shading a blossom and looks up so suddenly that I start, as though I were caught spying on him, which in a strange way maybe I was. But he only says, “You know, I think this is the first time we’ve ever done anything normal together.” (Catching Fire)

"I don't know what I expected from my first meeting with Peeta after the announcement. A few hugs and kisses. A little comfort maybe. Not this." (Catching Fire)

“When Peeta holds out his arms, I walk straight to them. It’s the first time since they announced The Quarter Quell that he’s offered me any sort of affection. He’s been more like a very demanding trainer, always pushing, always insisting Haymitch and I run faster, eat more, know our enemy better. Lover? Forget about that. He abandoned any pretense of even being my friend. I wrap my arms tighly around his neck before he can order me to do push-ups or something. Instead he pulls me in closer and buries his face in my hair. Warmth radiates from the spot where his lips just touch my neck, slowly spreading through the rest of me. It feels so good, so impossibly good, that I know I won’t be the first to let go." (Catching Fire)

"I realize only one person will be damaged beyond repair if Peeta dies. Me.

'I do', I say. 'I need you'." (Catching Fire)

"I feel that thing again. The thing I only felt once before. In the cave last year, when I was trying to get Haymitch to send us food. I kissed Peeta about a thousand times during those Games and after. But there was only one kiss that made me feel something stir deep inside. Only one that made me want more. But my head wound started bleeding and he made me lie down.

This time, there is nothing but us to interrupt us. And after a few attempts, Peeta gives up on talking. The sensation inside me grows warmer and spreads out from my chest, down through my body, out along my arms and legs, to the tips of my being. Instead of satisfying me, the kisses have the opposite effect, of making my need greater. I thought I was something of an expert on hunger, but this is an entirely new kind." (Catching Fire)

"When I wake, I have a brief, delicious feeling of happiness that is somehow connected with Peeta." (Catching Fire)

"I sit next to Peeta on the sand to eat my rolls. For some reason, it's difficult to look at him. Maybe it was all that kissing last night, although the two of us kissing isn't anything new. It might not even have felt any different for him." (Catching Fire)

"I sit back on my bed cross-legged and find myself rubbing the smooth iridescent surface of the pearl back and forth against my lips. For some reason, it’s soothing. A cool kiss from the giver himself." (Mockingjay)

"I’m light-headed with giddiness. What will I say? Oh, who cares what I say? Peeta will be ecstatic no matter what I do. He’ll probably be kissing me anyway. I wonder if it will feel like those last kisses on the beach in the arena, the ones I haven’t dared let myself consider until this moment." (Mockingjay)

“Sometimes when I’m alone, I take the pearl from where it lives in my pocket and try to remember the boy with the bread, the strong arms that warded off nightmares on the train, the kisses in the arena. To make myself put a name to the thing I've lost. But what's the use? It's gone, he's gone. Whatever existed between us is gone." (Mockingjay)

"Despite what I feel for Peeta, this is when I accept deep down that he'll never come back to me." (Mockingjay)

"On the night I feel that thing again, the hunger that overtook me on the beach, I know this would have happened anyway. [...] So after, when he whispers, 'You love me. Real or not real? I tell him, 'Real'." (Mockingjay)

There's more quotes like that, but I think these are enough. Now, can you all please stop pretending that these quotes don't exist and accept the fact that there's canon evidence refuting the belief that Katniss was aro/ace and never felt romantic/sexual attraction for Peeta? 😑

#*sighs*#katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #everlark #thg

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bucknastysbabe · 1 year

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Kink Bingo - Free Space (C*ckw*rm*ng)

Rating: Explicit

Tags: TW PTSD/Nightmares, Tommy’s guilt, panic attacks, fluff fluff fluff, cockwarming, his gf hypes T up, all luved up, doggy style, getting railed and then made breakfast, set in Jackson

A/N: short n sweet

The things he and Joel did.

Cold sweats and nightmares didn’t happen as often the longer he’d been in Wyoming. But some nights the man couldn’t wake from the memories. Smell of blood and gunpowder— noises non-infected shouldn’t make. They didn’t care. It was in the name of survival. Canis canem edit, dog eat dog. Tommy’s chest tightened again, flashes of the fear of someone’s life draining out in their frantic orbs. He needed to get up, take a walk, a trip, something.

“Tom? You good baby?,” came her sleepy voice.

Tommy relaxed a bit at her sweet voice. His baby never failed to make him feel grounded. The tether from letting him float off into a miasma of guilt. He gruffed, “Nothin’ sugar, just gettin’ some water. Want any?” She turned over with a sleepy sigh, bleary eyes gazing up at his own dark orbs. Her lips downturned, a slight furrow in her brow.

“Stay here. I’ll get the water, okay?”

Tommy gulped around his arid throat, body unable to move. He felt paralyzed, grunting his assent in the quiet room. She rustled the plaid covers and padded to the kitchen, Tommy’s eyes roving her stark form, locks swishing in the moonlight. He’d go back to the dark times for her— deciding to lock that thought away for later.

She returned with a big glass of water, perching on the side of his bed. Her eyes were kind as she took in his stricken impression, murmuring, “I’m sorry baby.” She grabbed the glass and held it to Tommy’s dry lips. He gulped the cool drink down, pausing to draw a wet breath. She cooed, rubbing his trim chest, “That’s it, you’re not there anymore sweets. Breathe. Breathe Tommy.”

Tommy tried to breathe, really did. He pulled her flush to his body, crushing the poor thing in his embrace. He couldn’t help the tears slide down his cheeks. The man cried, “Am I even worth it? Worth all this?” She gazed up and nuzzled his cheek, stating softly, “Your past doesn’t define you baby. You’re good. Good to the people, the town, to Joel and Ellie.” She pressed a dry kiss to his cheek, “You’re real good to me. Third place I’d been by, starving, close to death and you decided to take me in,” she patted his cheek, “You’re a damn fine man Tommy Miller and I love you.”

He tearily smiled, lamely joking, “You always gotta’ make me cry.” She hummed, stroking his hair, “Someone’s gotta. Can’t be big protector of Jackson all the time babe.” Her mouth grew closer to his as she whispered, “S’okay to be soft. I won’t tell.” Tommy warbled, “I love you,” and kissed his woman passionately, arms snaked round tighter. He spread his thighs to slot her in, savoring her natural essence.

They kissed softly for what felt like ages, simply holding and loving on eachother. Tommy cooed and praised her glory. She reached down to palm his stiff cock, mumuring, “Nightcap? Might help you sleep.” Tommy clenched his jaw in thought. He really just wanted to be closer to her tonight, joined as one.

He gruffed, “Think ya’ can just, uh, join me. Lay together, together I mean.” She smiled softly, moonlight catching on her cheeks, a painting of an angel. She cocked her head and crooned, “Sure honey. We can do that.” She reared up and guided Tommy’s flush cock to her slick core, quietly mewling his name. The man gasped and held to her as she seated herself and flipped them to the side, full and sated.

Tommy pressed kissed to the nape of her neck, purring, “Thank ya’ sugar. So good to me.” She turned to give him another kiss, chiding, “C’mon and relax now Miller. Let’s get some sleep.” Tommy was off to sweet oblivion in no time, breathing evening out.

By the time the sun filtered through the curtains, Tommy was awoken by a wonderful noise. A frustrated little moan of his name. Taking inventory, Tommy’s reignited cock was deep inside of her twitching pussy. It was slick too, good god. He rasped, “Mornin’ sugar.” She rolled back onto his cock, pussy swollen and needy.

The girl begged, “Fuck baby, woke up all needy- C’mon, c’mon so wet for you. Tommy please!” Her nails gripped at his sinewy arms wrapped round her squirmy waist. Tommy chuckled, “I gotcha’, least I could do,” he patted her ass, “On your belly baby.” She moaned loudly at the loss, presenting eagaerly. Tommy groaned as he stretched, moving to face her need.

He slid a calloused thumb through her copious slick, cursing, “Gaht-damn baby you’re a mess.” She peered back at him with teary eyes, “Pleasplease Tommybaby!” Tommy grinned and lined his pelvis up to hers, sliding his cock in. He cursed again at the tight slick, gripping her ass to hold himself. Down boy.

Feeling energized from decent sleep last night Tommy went at it, fucking her in deep thrusts, so loud the floor shook and squelches filled the morning air. She tore at the pillow, whining like a damn bitch in heat. Hell, he felt like he was in rut. He rasped, “Shit honey, so sweet, squeezin’ me real good.” He swatted her bouncing ass.

“All for you, so good!,” she howled.

If Tommy cared, he’d be embarrassed for the neighbors, but alas he didn’t give a fuck. Not with this tight little thing under him. The elder yanked at her hair, biting and sucking down her nape. He growled, “Good pretty little slut for your old man. You just love it dont’cha?” Tears streaking her pretty face she wailed, “Yes! Fuck yes!”

Tommy yanked her hair in one hand, didn’t miss a fucking thrust, and dug down to rub her obscenely swollen clit. That sent the sweetie into a frenzy, caterwauling and squeezing, legs shaking violently. Tommy bit down on his lip to keep quiet when she milked him clean up. He yanked his cock out, splattering hot seed on her quivering ass and back. He patted her on the cheek again, cooing.

“Thas’ what ya’ needed. Get my girl all tuckered out.” He pressed a kiss to her sweaty cheek and said, “You stay here n’ rest, hows’at sound?” Her smile and slur filled his heart, “Ngmm-pls” he hopped like a damn bunny.

He leant over to give her swollen lips a peck, murmuring, “How ‘bout breakfast huh, just take a breather sweetie.”

“N’uhokay,” she slurred.

Tommy ignored the usual morning aches and pains, hopping like a bunny to cook for his love. His sweet, kind love who gave him hope.

#kink bingo #tommy miller x reader #tlou fic #tlou smut

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soulkeeper801 · 1 year

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The Bet - Twice’s Nayeon

(A/N: According to this poll, you like longer fics instead of several parts. So hope you enjoy these almost 3.5k words!)

f!reader x Nayeon

Nayeon and Jihyo bet on who can take Y/N out on a date first, until one of them catches real feelings and wants to back off.

“What’s taking Mr. Park so long?” Jihyo wondered as she stretched before the mirror.

The girls were gathered in the practice room waiting for their choreographer to arrive. He was almost half an hour late, something that never happened.

“I heard his wife was pregnant, maybe she’s got an appointment or something,” Sana commented. “He looks like the kind of person who would leave everything behind for his wife”.

Jihyo nodded at the new information, trying to figure out how they were going to continue without the guidance of their teacher.

“Choreography is almost done,” Tzuyu said, noticing the worry on her leader’s face. “Can’t we practice it by ourselves?”

“We can,” Momo encouraged, getting up from the floor and suggesting everyone to do so. “There are some little details that we can go through together and we can wrap it up”.

As they were about to get in position, the door flung open. Their manager looked out of breath as he stepped inside of the room, calling everyone to gather around him.

“Mr. Park won’t come, his wife is having their baby right now and he’s at the hospital with her”.

Tiny gasps echoed in the room as the girls smiled widely at the good news.

“So I had to get someone last minute to replace him and help you through the final parts of the choreography”.

Momo looked past his shoulder and noticed a familiar face behind the door that brought a relieved smile to her face.

“She’s been working for Itzy these last few months and she’s familiar with Mr. Park’s work, so she knows how your choreography ends,” he assured, getting nods of approval from the girls. “Ms. Y/L/N, please come in”.

As soon as you arrived, you received several bows as a sign of respect. You had seen them many times in the building so you weren’t strangers, yet this was the first time you got to work together.

“Hello, everyone. I’ve been working with Mr. Park on this project so I’m used to what you have been doing the last few weeks. I’m confident we will finish it without any trouble”.

The practice went on smoothly. You had each part clear and got to make every girl shine whenever they got the center. You didn’t have any experience working with so many people at the same time, yet the girls made you feel comfortable enough.

You left the practice with the promise of coming back the next day to keep finishing up the details. Mr. Park was going to be away for a couple of weeks so they passed the project over to you.

“I didn’t know Y/N was this good,” Momo said as they were picking up their stuff. “I had seen her around but I never saw her dance,” she kept saying. “I’m glad she’s taking over”.

“She’s also very…” Dahyun said, trying to find a word to describe the feeling you gave her.

“Pretty?” two voices said at the same time.

Jihyo and Nayeon looked at each other when they realized it was them.

“I was about to say something related to the way she teaches, but now we know Jihyo unnie and Nayeon unnie have the same type”.

Both girls laughed out loud at how the word simply escaped their lips.

“Y/N looks like the kind of girl who would go for an introverted type,” Tzuyu pointed out. They hadn’t been for a long time with you but that was the feeling she perceived.

“I think so too,” Momo supported, “you two are really far from the calm type,” she joked, giving them a teasing smile.

Nayeon rolled her eyes. “I don’t need to be a certain type to make someone fall for me,” she stated, curling a strand of her hair with a finger and flashing a smug smile.

Jihyo laughed along with her. “Right, she could easily fall for me, I’m just not interested in that way”.

“Is that so?” Momo asked, raising her eyebrows at the younger girl’s statement, “or you’re just not sure if she’d say yes to you?”

“What are you trying to say?” Jihyo replied, a bit offended at the sudden comment.

“I think she means that it’s easier to say you don’t get her because you don’t want to than accepting the fact she wouldn’t say yes to you”. Nayeon replied calmly, knowing perfectly well that she was making her mad.

“Is that a challenge?” Jihyo asked one more time.

“It can be,” Nayeon replied, holding her leader’s gaze as they were now face to face.

“I don’t think that's a good idea…” Momo said under her breath. The other girls were still sitting on the floor watching how both girls were arguing.

“The first one who gets to take Y/N on a date,” Jihyo stated.

“How will we know if we succeeded?” Nayeon asked, defining the terms.

“A picture”.

“Done,” Jihyo agreed, gripping Nayeon’s hand in a tight handshake as they both were dazzled by the sudden competition.

A chorus of deep sighs was heard in the background. The others knew anything could go right when the two stubborn girls plotted something like this.

Jihyo never left any space for improvisation. She had every moment of her life thoroughly planned out. The moment she knew she had to get close to you in order to ask you out on a date, she simply observed.

You arrived at the practice room and the first thing she noticed was that you took a couple of vitamins before starting to stretch.

“I take the same ones,” she casually said, before starting stretching by your side.

It took you a bit by surprise the way she just struck up a conversation with you, but you welcomed it as a nice gesture from the leader to make you feel at home. Getting to be familiar with an already consolidated group of people wasn’t easy and she was trying to make you comfortable. You were grateful.

“They’re really good especially when you’re about to engage in physical activity, I guess you’re already used to it,” you said, looking at her through the mirror since she was now sitting next to you.

“Yeah,” she trailed off, turning to her side to look at you.

“What?” you asked, as her eyes wandered on your hair.

“I’ve always wanted to grow my hair like yours, but it’s so difficult, how do you do it?” sincere admiration on Jihyo's face as she focused her attention on your words.

Unknown to the both of you, Nayeon was looking intently at the conversation that was happening in front of the mirror.

She didn’t know what Jihyo had asked you but it brought the brightest smile on your face as you kept talking and talking passionately about something. What could you possibly be talking about that made your eyes sparkle as much as they were?

“So this thing about Y/N was not a joke?” a short haired girl asked as she sat down beside her.

“Shut up,” Nayeon replied, her eyes not leaving you and Jihyo.

“I just hope no one’s feelings get hurt,” Jeongyeon said.

The statement made the older girl chuckle. “It’s not that deep, we’re just having fun. It’s gonna be over in less than a few days when I get Y/N to have dinner with me”.

Jeongyeon shook her head. “You two are really stubborn, huh? I think this is the biggest proof now”.

“Okay, girls,” you said, standing in front of the mirror and calling them to the middle. “Let’s begin by going through yesterday’s formation, shall we?”

Jihyo shot a smug smile Nayeon’s way, as the older girl simply rolled her eyes.

“Wait, wait,” Nayeon said as she abruptly remembered something before getting into the van that was taking them back to the dorm. “I left my bag at the practice room!”

Jihyo whined at the realization of what the older girl was doing. “Unnie, that’s not fair!”

Nayeon closed the car’s door and shot a big smile at her leader. “I’m gonna ask Y/N for a ride so you can just get back to the dorm without me”.

As the car moved away, Nayeon hurriedly made her way back to the building. She arrived at the floor of the practice room and noticed it was the only light still on. Everyone seemed to have ended their shifts long ago. She checked her phone and realized it was almost midnight.

When she was about to step into the room, a sudden noise made her stop in her tracks. She pressed her back to the wall before the door to hear what was happening inside. She recognized your voice but it was now tainted with a soft cry.

Her eyes shot wide open at your next words.

“Please stop calling me,” you said in a whisper as your tears streamed down your face. “It’s been two months already, I’ve moved on, I don’t wanna see you again”.

Nayeon took a glimpse of you from the door and saw you hugging your knees in front of the mirror holding your phone to your ear.

What happened to the bright smile and beautiful eyes that she saw a couple of hours ago?

Her heart broke when you sobbed and your voice got louder.

“You played with me! This was your fault! Don’t even call me again!”

You hung up and threw the phone away. The tears now falling freely in your face, you were shaking due to the sobs getting almost unbearable.

Nayeon didn’t know what to do. She felt terribly sorry for listening to your conversation, she didn’t mean to do so, she was just trying to play along with the stupid bet.

However, she knew that you were going through something. She didn’t have the right to ask what it was or what happened, but she knew you might need someone to listen, someone to be there even if it was an almost stranger.

As soon as she heard your sobs becoming quieter, she quietly stepped into the room.

“I’m sorry,” she said after clearing her throat, letting you know she was there. “I think I forgot my bag and some stuff here”.

You immediately stood up and wiped the tears away, facing towards the wall so Nayeon wouldn’t notice, but little did you know she had already heard everything.

“Don’t worry,” you replied, not meeting her eyes yet, “I was gathering my stuff here and was about to leave”.

You took a look at the time and realized it was already too late.

“Is your manager waiting for you?” you asked, as you stuffed your belongings in your bag, noticing how the other girl was doing the same. The air was filled with tension since any of you said a word.

“Oh, well…” she fidgeted with her fingers. “I don’t think they are waiting for me”.

Nayeon had planned to charm her way into convincing you to take her home, but she wasn’t expecting the scene she found minutes ago.

Now she felt guilty for even thinking of inconveniencing you.

You nodded, feeling a little defeated since you wanted to go back home and rest for a while, dissipating your mind. “No worries, I can take you there”.

She walked towards the elevator with her head hung low. There couldn’t be a worse time to do what she was planning to do.

As you both got into the car, an unknown number rang your phone. You froze at the sight of your screen lighting up because of the notification. Nayeon noticed and out of pure impulse, rejected the call.

A long sigh of relief left your lips as her eyes widened at the realization of what she had done.

“I’m so sorry,” she said a couple of times. “I shouldn’t have, I just…”

“No,” you replied, the light of the car being the only one in the parking lot, “thank you”.

After a couple of seconds, you continued. “It’s been a couple rough months and I didn’t have the courage to decline the call,” you said in a whisper, your eyes still fixed on the phone. “It was this easy”.

Nayeon tried really hard to find the right words to comfort you.

“I know we don’t know each other, but I can assure you that if you ever need to talk to someone you can call me. I’m not the best at giving advice, but maybe I can be of help”.

You chuckled softly at her words and finally gathered the courage to look at her eyes. They were sincere and meant every word that had left her lips.

“I…” you said, “don’t wanna talk about it,” she nodded. “I rather ease my mind thinking about anything else but that”.

Nayeon immediately understood that.

“Today a makeup brand sent me a bunch of lipsticks,” she suddenly said, trying to take your mind anywhere so you wouldn’t think of what was bothering you. “I got so many shades,” she continued, now going through her stuff, “I’m gonna give you these two, I think they would go really well with your skin”.

“I love them,” you said as you started the car. “What other colors do you wear?”

Nayeon smiled at the sight of your face lighting up again.

“Uhm, Y/N?” Jihyo asked cautiously as she approached you before the practice started. “I’ve got you these vitamins that I’m taking. I think they will work for you too”.

You turned to see her as she handed you a small bottle. “Thank you,” you said, reading the indications on the surface. “Oh, this is also for hair nourishment?”

“Yes!” Jihyo replied excitedly, “I remembered you were telling me about how you wanted your hair to be stronger. Although, I think it looks pretty anyways”.

Her sudden compliment turned your cheeks a little pink.

“Do you mind if you help me stretch?” she asked, a little more confident now, maybe due to your reaction.

You nodded before standing behind her.

“Sorry,” you said before placing a hand on her right shoulder. She chuckled. “If you throw your head to this side while holding your shoulder in place, you’ll feel a better pull on your neck muscles,” she did as you told her. “See?”

The leader smiled surprisedly at the sudden relief she felt while doing so. “Y/N, you’re too good at this!”

Nayeon was annoyed.

She didn’t know what was happening between you two but it seemed like you were getting closer. Closer than whatever happened the night before to her.

It was all because of the bet, right? She wanted to win, that’s why she was feeling kind of bitter.

Right?

“I think Jihyo is a couple steps forward with this one,” Jeongyeon said, looking at Jihyo applying pressure to a certain point in your back as a way to relax. “They are all over each other, what’s happening?”

“I don’t know,” Nayeon simply replied, having a weird feeling in her chest. “Do they look good together?”

You had taken Jihyo’s phone and were now typing something in it while the shorter girl smiled widely at the action.

Jeongyeon turned to take a look at Nayeon’s face after that question. “What does that mean?”

“I don’t know…”

Once again, it was almost midnight after everyone left. You were in charge of making sure everything was at its place and ready for cleaning service the next day. As you were about to turn the lights of the practice room off, you heard steps coming to the door.

“Nayeon?”

“Hi,” she replied softly from the other side of the door. She had her backpack and was fidgeting with her fingers.

“How can I help you?” you asked, making sure everything was okay, since she looked like there was something wrong.

“Well,” she trailed off, her eyes wandering around. “Remember how you said you wanted to try more lipstick colors?” You nodded. “Well, I got you this”.

Nayeon took a set from her backpack. It was an expensive set with bright colors that she had bought for you. A big smile formed on your face.

“You didn’t have to!” you said, as you excitedly hurried towards her and took the set from her hands. You didn’t see it, but her face lit up at the sight of your happiness.

“I, actually, have something for you, too,” you said, after a couple of seconds contemplating if you should do it or not. “It’s nothing fancy, but yesterday you told me you didn’t have this”.

You went back to your stuff and took a small keychain with a flashlight.

“No way,” she said as she started laughing while clapping her hands. “I’ve wanted one of these for so long!”

Nayeon took the keychain like a kid would take a new toy. She turned the flashlight on and off repeatedly while laughing at it. “I wouldn’t think you’d remember this”.

“I wouldn’t think you’d get me this either”.

As you both fell in silence, her eyes found yours as a big grin was still plastered in your face.

“Uhm,” she trailed off. “Would it be weird if we go eat something right now?”

“I’m…” you said, noticing how expectant she was, “actually very hungry right now”.

“Jihyo?” Nayeon called as she got to the kitchen where the leader was having breakfast. Momo and Jeongyeon were there already while the others were still sleeping.

The night before had gone perfectly. You both arrived at a small restaurant and ordered some appetizers and a couple of beers. Once you started talking, it never stopped. Nayeon found so many exciting things about you that she wanted to treasure forever. She discovered that you’ve been dancing your whole life and even got an offer to become an idol by JYP himself, yet your love for the art and not the fame got you the chance to work as a choreographer for the company.

Not only did she find out more about you, she found out things about herself, too. She noticed how pretty you were with your blushed cheeks due to the beer, how you would giggle at things you found cute and how it all made her heart warm. She was usually really talkative and loud, yet the night before she stayed silent, enjoying the sound of your voice.

She wasn’t sure why, but she wanted to see you again, and again, and again.

“Unnie!” Jihyo said as she showed you her phone. From where she was standing, she couldn’t see what her leader was showing. “I’m about to ask Y/N to have lunch today! I’m winning this!” she said, letting a little evil laugh out.

Her heart skipped a beat.

“Wait, wait!” Nayeon said, rushing towards her and taking the phone away.

“Yah!” she whined, trying to take it back. “You’re just jealous that my charming skills are better than yours!”.

“No,” the older girl replied, putting the phone in her pocket. “I wanted to talk to you about this”.

The serious tone in her voice got not only Jihyo’s attention, but also Momo and Jeongyeon’s.

“I want to call the bet off”.

“No way,” Jihyo replied, “I’m about to ask her out on a date and now you wanna call the bet off?” she asked rhetorically, trying to get her phone back.

Nayeon groaned. “I went out with her last night, that’s why I got home late”.

Three pairs of eyes landed on her immediately.

“What?!” Jihyo asked in disbelief. “Picture or you didn’t win”.

The older girl shook her head. “That’s why I wanna call the bet off. I don’t have a picture, I didn’t even have time to”.

“What do you mean, unnie?” Momo asked from the table where she was sitting.

Nayeon sighed. “I like Y/N. I think I wanna ask her out on a date officially but I don’t want to continue with this bet. It makes me feel like I’m playing with her”.

Jihyo’s eyes widened at the statement. “Why didn’t you say so?”

“I just found out yesterday. I tried to make myself believe that it was just a feeling pushed by the desire of winning a bet but I realized it is not”.

“Are you sure?” Jeongyeon asked cautiously.

“100%. If it was, I would have taken a picture yesterday and showed it as proof. I would have won but I actually want to win her over”.

Jihyo smiled gladly this time.

“So please, don’t ask her out,” Nayeon whispered while hanging her head low. A first time for a girl with a huge ego like her.

Jihyo engulfed her in a tight hug as she got her phone back.

“You got this, unnie. I’m backing off and the bet is over”.

She nodded at the words and felt brave enough to start approaching you with the intention of asking you out officially.

“Unnie?” Jeongyeon said, gaining the older girl’s attention. “I think you two would look good together”.

Nayeon smiled widely at the thought.

She couldn’t wait to see you again.

#twice x reader #twice x f!reader #nayeon x reader #nayeon x f!reader #fluff #nayeon fluff #soulkeeper801

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dasnercaret · 1 year

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the nightmares stalk

Tw//blood, mentioned character death

In which the nightmare was real, but it went a little differently. A little ficlet in which Chayanne meets his hero, an old god comes to life, Philza and Tallulah pass out, and the nightmare is killed without fanfare or warning.

Or: I fixed Philza’s and the eggs’ nightmare.

__________________________________

Chayanne stares down the eyes of the monster, and all he can think is: I'm going to die. Philza and Tallulah are both painfully still behind him, but he can hear them struggling for breath. Their blood stains the sand.

They thought it was safe. They thought it was safe, but it wasn't, and now the two of them are dying and Chayanne has to save them. Except Chayanne's just an egg, an egg in diamond armor but still too weak, too fragile, too breakable for this monster with sharp claws and piercing eyes. It took two hits to fell Philza, one for Tallulah, and Chayanne's many things, but a fool is not one of them. Diamond armor means little against those eyes.

He wonders if he can take three hits. He knows he can't.

But Chayanne is brave, has to be brave, so he snarls as loud as he can (not nearly enough) at the beast, hefting his sword. It's sharp, razor-edged enchantments shimmering on its edges, but Chayanne knows it won't be enough. He charges anyway, as if sheer stubbornness could overcome death itself.

The glowing eyes flash. Philza and Tallulah gasp for breath behind it.

One. It tears open Chayanne's arm, blood splattering on the sand. Thankfully, it's not his sword hand, but it still hurts. He swings wildly with the sword, but the eyes dance just out of range, amused. Chayanne is closer to Philza and Tallulah now, but not close enough to save them.

Two. Chayanne can't help the cry as the thing tears his back open. The force sends him nearly flying, crashing into the sand beside his family. The sand is wet with blood, and he can see Philza's eyes watching desperately, begging Chayanne to run, run away, save yourself.

But Tallulah is quiet beside Philza, even as he struggles to shield her with his own body. She's barely breathing. And Chayanne is many things, but no egg or man could run from the still body of Tallulah.

He forces his shaking arms upward instead, pressing through the pain. The monster approaches leisurely, invisible feet shifting through the sand. Chayanne locks eyes with it, glaring even as his injured arm gives out. If he's going to die, he's going to face death on his feet, protecting his family, staring into the eyes of his murderer.

Which means he's the only person who sees the man in the red cloak stab it from behind.

Chayanne - stares. The monster flutters out of invisibility, and now Chayanne can see its void-black limbs, his family's blood stained on its claws, and the diamond sword piercing straight through its chest.

The sword withdraws. The creature vanishes in a poof of dust like any other mob. The man steps forward, red cloak with white fur swishing through the monster dust, but Chayanne only has eyes for his family. He scrambles across the sand, reaching out towards his barely-breathing niece and father, ignoring his own blood splattering onto the sand.

Heal, Chayanne whispers, and he can feel the life draining out of him and into his family. He shudders, nearly collapsing with the strain, but glares at the strange man anyways through his fading vision. The black spots flutter large in the corners of his eyes, and he grits his teeth against them.

The man kneels. To Chayanne's surprise, he has the face of a pig - large pink ears, a snout, and fearsome-looking tusks. But his eyes are kind, and Chayanne relaxes imperceptibly despite himself. He'd saved them from certain death, after all. He didn't have to, but he did, and Chayanne isn't the type to forget such a gift so easily.

"You did good," he rumbles, a gentle hand ruffling Chayanne's hair. And Chayanne thinks he knows this man somewhere, knows his rumbling monotone voice and his fearsome skill and that red cloak - so he tolerates the touch.

(If he leans into it just a bit, that's between him and the strange man and nobody else.)

The man nods, as if deciding. "Take care of them for me, yeah?" The man stands, a slow graceful movement. His red cloak sweeps across the sand. Philza groans behind him, slowly waking up, but he only has eyes for the strange man.

Chayanne nods, and the pig man smiles. It’s breathtaking, and Chayanne can’t help but think that a real smile out of him must be very rare.

"I'll see you around, then."

Chayanne blinks, and the man vanishes into the morning sunlight, like a dream. And even as Philza and Tallulah wake and begin fussing over Chayanne's wounds, Chayanne still stares at the spot where he'd disappeared, wondering, wondering.

#technoblade #qsmp #qsmp fic #philza #qsmp tallulah #tallulah #qsmp chayanne #chayanne #sbi #mcyt #fanfic #technoblade fanfic #tallulah fanfic #philza fanfic #word count 1k

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andorerso · 6 months

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Rebelcaptain Whumptober: Day 22

for the prompt "Betrayal" Content warnings: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, accidental murder, depression, grief, suicidal ideation, suicide. This one's heavy guys, please take care <3

“Stardust,” Papa says from the corner. Jyn tries not to look at him anymore; the image is too horrifying. His face is decaying, his eyes the milky blue of a corpse, and his clothes are torn and dirty. The same clothes he wore when he died in her arms… “Come join us.”

“We miss you,” Mama chimes in. Her appearance is the same as Papa’s. Jyn squeezes her eyes and attempts to ignore them. None of this is right. “We could be a family again.”

I already have a family. Jyn doesn’t say it. She doesn’t think she does. But Mama answers, “They’ll join us too, baby girl. You won’t have to worry about them anymore.”

“Wouldn’t it be better,” Papa continues, “if we were all together?”

Jyn pulls her legs to her chest and curls her body around it, pressing her head against her knees. The ground is dank under her. Mold is growing on the walls of this forgotten cell, the air stale, and her surroundings completely dark. They didn’t even give her a cot. She thinks she’s somewhere underground, and everything is deathly silent and still, like time itself has frozen. Is she the sole prisoner on this entire floor? How long ago did they throw her in here? How long has it been since she…

Last ate, last slept, last seen sunlight?

Could be days, could be weeks. She has no idea anymore. The blaster shot she took to the leg hasn’t killed her yet, but seeing her dead parents is probably not a good sign. Perhaps the burn is infected. Perhaps the imps gave her something. (Was there — an interrogation? Maybe… she thinks… A flash of cuffs snapping around her wrists… Real or not? She can’t recall.)

Perhaps she’s just losing her mind.

Mama and Papa keep watching from the corner, their eerie eyes burning a hole in her skin.

What do they want her to do?

“You know what to do,” Mama says. “You still have your vibroblade.”

Jyn reaches for the weapon, stashed in her breast band, and runs her fingers along the edge. It’s the one weapon they didn’t find when they captured her. She hadn’t used it, biding her time, waiting for the opportunity to strike. It was the only play she had left; it had to be perfect.

But now she regrets that decision. Should have just taken her chances and rolled with it. But she didn’t think they’d leave her here to waste away…

All alone in the dark.

“We’ll be here, Stardust,” Papa promises. His voice sounds closer than it did before, but she doesn’t raise her head to look at them, her eyes transfixed on the vibroblade. “We won’t let you die alone.”

A memory resurfaces. Scarif. The beach. Cassian. The warmth of his body against hers, the smell of blood, sweat, and blaster oil. She’d been content then. The blast was approaching, but she didn’t care. She was safe, she was home.

Now, it’s so cold. Jyn’s shivering in her thin jacket, her lips cracked and dry, her breathing slow and shallow. Papa’s promise doesn’t soothe her; her parents look like they stepped out of a nightmare rather than a comforting dream. This is nothing like the warm embrace of death on Scarif. Nothing so peaceful or kind.

Cassian’s face haunts her thoughts.

She can’t give up yet, can’t leave him…

“Foolish girl.” Jyn snaps her head up at the new voice, eyes widening. Her hand curls around the vibroblade as Krennic’s rotting face emerges from the shadows. “Nobody’s coming for you.”

“Stay away,” she snarls when he takes a step towards her. She presses her hand against her leg, hiding her weapon. Element of surprise. If he comes any closer, she’ll defend herself.

“Do you really think anybody cares about some stupid orphan girl? Nobody ever loved you enough to come back for you. Your mother would rather try to kill me than stay to protect you. Even your father abandoned you.” He pauses, a cruel smirk twisting his lips. “Both your fathers.”

Jyn holds her tongue, refusing to show that his aim hit true, but the words burrow deep and take root in her heart. Hadn’t she thought the same so many times? Didn’t she resent her parents for years and years? What if he was right… What if no one was coming? She would die here in the dark, only the dead to keep her company.

The blade bites into her palm as she clutches it, but she barely feels the sting. Krennic stops in front of her, so close now that his shoes, not as polished and shiny as it was in life, brush hers.

“Why would anybody come for you now?” He whispers, leaning down towards her. “For a worthless nobody. You’re alone, Jyn. I killed your mother. I stole your father. And if he comes for you, I’ll kill your lover too.”

Jyn pounces. She’ll be damned if she’ll let him touch Cassian.

Her blade pierces his jugular, and Krennic stumbles back a step. With wide eyes, he clutches at his neck, a gurgling noise building in his throat.

Then he falls down and stops moving. It’s over in less than a second.

Except the body on the ground isn’t Krennic. It’s Cassian.

Her heart stalls in her chest. Jyn stares for a long second, still clutching the vibroblade. Her brain doesn’t quite comprehend what she’s seeing, can’t make the puzzle pieces fit together.

It doesn’t make sense. Cassian isn’t here. She’s alone in her cell, hundreds and thousands of kilometers away, feverish and dazed and probably drugged.

This isn’t real.

It can’t be real. It’s another hallucination, a mirage, her brain working against her once again.

Shaking, Jyn falls to her knees in front of him, the blade slipping from her grasp with a loud clatter.

“It’s not real,” she mutters to herself as she cradles his cheek, but the image doesn’t change. His skin is still warm under her touch, blood painting her hands red. It’s not real. She squeezes her eyes shut, willing the illusion to fall away and reveal the truth. Some guard, maybe, coming to check up on her… Maybe nothing. Maybe it’s all an illusion. “It’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real.”

She doesn’t open her eyes, but she knows the body under her hands hasn’t changed. She recognizes the shape of him, the feel of his skin on her hands, the lines of his jaw, the scratch of his stubble… It’s a deeper, base-level instinct. She knowshim.

Panic builds in her stomach. It can’t be real.

A hand reaches out to touch her shoulder, and she startles, grabbing her vibroblade again and slashing in an arc in front of her. The figure jumps back, and Jyn narrowly misses her target.

Bodhi stares at her with wide eyes, hands raised in front of him in a placating gesture. He says something but she doesn’t hear it through the white noise in her head. Her vision dims for a second, her chest heaving with quick, shallow breaths.

She can’t look at the body on the ground.

“It’s not real,” she gasps, her voice high, her chin quivering.

“It’s not,” Bodhi assures her, but his voice sounds like it’s coming from underwater. There’s another figure at the door. Are they really here? She can’t tell anymore. Darkness begins to creep in at the edges. “It’s not real. Let us help you, Jyn.”

She doesn’t have the strength to answer.

The last thought she has before oblivion pulls her under is, it’s not real.

⁂

Everything is blurry after that. She slips in and out of consciousness, catching only brief glimpses of faces, conversations, surroundings.

(Bodhi blinking at her in worry. The hum of a ship’s engine. Someone holding her hand. A loud voice demanding, “What did she do?”

A clang. Shouting.

She’s crashing —

Cold. So much cold.

She’s dying. It feels like she’s dying.)

At one point, she wakes to bright lights above her head, a figure standing by her side, and something beeping in the background. Jyn squints, a groan tearing from her throat. The noise is too loud, the lights are too blinding. It feels like someone is drilling a hole into her skull.

She can’t feel her leg. Everything hurts, but the dull throbbing she’s gotten used to is gone.

“Jyn?” the figure speaks. She has to blink a few times before Bodhi’s face materializes under the harsh white lights. His face is pinched with worry, and dark circles decorate the skin under his eyes. “You’re on Hoth,” he continues in a soft but clear voice. “They’re about to wheel you in for surgery. Your leg’s infected, but they’re gonna do what they can, okay?”

“Cassian?” she croaks. Her throat is bone-dry and scratchy, but it’s the only question on her mind, and she has to know. “Did I… hurt Cassian?”

Bodhi’s face crumbles for a second. “You didn’t. Cassian’s fine. He was pulled into a meeting with Draven, but he’ll be here when you wake up.”

It wasn’t real.

With relief flooding her body, Jyn closes her eyes and lets herself be pulled under again.

⁂

Cassian’s not there when she wakes up.

It’s Bodhi again, blinking awake in the chair next to her when she tries to reach for the glass of water on the bedside table.

“Let me help.” He brings the glass to her lips and continues to talk as she eagerly gulps down big sips of water. “Surgery went well. They managed to save your leg. Just so. You had us worried for a second. You flatlined on the ship, you know. Twice.”

She hadn’t known. But that explains the way he’s looking at her, barely-contained grief hiding under his skin. She must have really scared them.

When the glass is empty, Bodhi reclaims his seat, and Jyn breathes in deeply, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. Her head feels clearer than it did the last time she woke. Her body is still weak and sore and aching in some places, but her mind is sharp. Sharper. She feels like herself again, though her memories are a little fuzzy, and her sense of time is jumbled. The puzzle pieces still don’t quite fit.

When she turns to face Bodhi, he’s watching her strangely. She has a dozen questions on her lips, and his apprehension only raises more.

“What happened?” she settles on eventually. She remembers her capture, but that’s the last thing she’s sure of.

“You were shot in the leg and captured. They gave you some psychoactive drug to question you. You were high when we found you, and it only made your injury worse. Jyn, I…” His eyes drop to the floor and refuses to meet hers again. A knot forms in her stomach at the tone of his voice. High with fear and grief. “I have to tell you something.”

And some part of her already knows.

Because he’s not here. And he should be.

“Where’s Cassian?” she asks without inflection, eerily calm for the situation.

Bodhi said — didn’t he say he’d be here? She’s almost certain she didn’t imagine that.

He should be here. He would be here, if she had nearly died, if she had nearly lost her leg…

Cassian would be by her side through it all. Unless he couldn’t, unless —

Bodhi doesn’t answer, still staring at the floor, and Jyn loses her patience.

“Bodhi!” The voice that tears out of her doesn’t sound like her own. “Tell me.”

Tell me he’s fine. Tell me it wasn’t me. Tell me I imagined it all. Tell me he’s just late or busy or on a mission. Tell me he just doesn’t want to see me, please tell me anything, anything

Bodhi crumbles, burying his head in his hands as a sob escapes him. She watches in slow motion like a crash she’s unable to stop, barely aware that she’s already shaking her head in denial.

“I’m sorry,” he cries, face hidden. “I’m so sorry.”

Jyn wishes she didn’t wake up.

⁂

Bodhi doesn’t tell her the details, but she knows what happened. It wasn’t some random mission while she was away, it wasn’t a tragic accident, or an unfortunate casualty.

She remembers it.

Remembers plunging the blade into Krennic’s — Cassian’s neck. His wide eyes as he fell. The gurgling noise he made.

In her head, she still sees Krennic. Can’t make sense of the idea that it was Cassian, that she could have done that.

It can’t be true please don’t let it

She doesn’t ask because a part of her hopes she’s wrong. (No, it’s not hope, not really. There’s no hope in her anymore. It’s just… a fantasy she clings to with tooth and nail while she can.)

But when Bodhi wheels her in to see his body, all pretenses fly out the window. Her breath catches, icy dread flooding her veins.

The jagged wound on his neck says everything it needs to.

Time itself stops as Jyn stares at the man she loves. The man who’s given her a home. Who taught her to be brave. Who broke down her walls and loved her so fiercely and came back for her time and time again.

He came back for her one last time. And it proved to be a fatal mistake.

“I did this?” Her lower lip trembles, her voice nothing more than a breathy gasp.

“You weren’t yourself —”

Placating words are the last thing she wants to hear. Temper flaring, she whips her head to snarl at Bodhi. “You said he was fine. You lied to me!”

“I —”

“Get out!” she yells in a voice she doesn’t recognize as her own. “Get out, get out, get out!”

Bodhi practically flees from the room, but not before she sees the grief and guilt shining in his eyes. She can’t find it in herself to care. Before the door even closes, she’s wheeling herself closer to the stretcher, her vision blurring as tears swim in her eyes.

Oh Force, what has she done…

Gently and with trembling hands, Jyn cradles his cheek, and a sob bursts out her lips. He’s so cold. So frighteningly still, so unnaturally pale. The only flash of color is the jagged red wound on his neck. Where she had slammed —

A whimper escapes her. He doesn’t look peaceful or like he’s sleeping or any of the other nonsense people sometimes say.

He looks dead.

Jyn gasps for breath, running her fingers through his hair. It’s just as soft as she remembers it. His lips quirked into a lopsided smile when she used to do that, his warm gaze sparkling with affection as he looked at her. But now his eyes are closed, his mouth doesn’t move, and his skin is cold as marble. Jyn raises his hand to her lips to kiss it, half-thinking that she can breathe some warmth into him, but it’s no use.

Cassian’s gone. Left without her. This body that remains is only a shell.

“I’m sorry,” she chokes out through her tears. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

How could she have done this? What he must have thought in that split second as he realized what she’d done. Betrayed by the one person who was supposed to love him the most…

More sobs spill through her lips. Jyn buries her head in the crook of his neck, clutching desperately at his shoulders like it could change anything. Turn back time or bring him back. If she just held him strong enough, if she wanted it badly enough… She could drag his soul back into his body, breathe life into him again.

“Please, I’m sorry, please come back. I’m sorry, Cass, I’m sorry, please…”

Cassian doesn’t move. He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t wrap his arms around her and stroke her hair and tell her it’s all going to be okay. No matter how close she burrows into him, there’s nothing but the bone-chilling cold leeching through his skin.

This wasn’t supposed to happen, not like this… please not like this

Should have listened to Mama and Papa after all, Jyn thinks as violent sobs rack her body. Should have joined them when they asked.

Cassian would still be alive.

⁂

They burn Cassian’s body in a small, unofficial ceremony that only she, Bodhi, Chirrut, Baze, and Melshi attend. She stands as far away from them as possible, clutching Cassian’s jacket around her body, and staring at the ground almost the entire time.

If she pretends it’s not happening, if she pretends she’s somewhere else, safe and warm in Cassian’s arms, it’s not real, right?

Bodhi says a few words that Jyn doesn’t hear. Chirrut talks about the Force, and she tries not to punch him because it’s not his fault, but she’s had enough of fairy tales. If the Force ever did exist, it sure seems like it fucking hates her.

When they ask if she wants to say anything, she declines.

Why would they want to hear anything from his murderer?

As the flames lick Cassian’s body, Jyn has a brief fantasy of throwing herself on the pyre with him. How fitting it would be. That’s how they were supposed to die on the beach; in the fiery embrace of the Death Star. Together.

Together is how they were supposed to go.

But, she thinks, they would stop her anyway. What’s the point? Everyone’s so fucking nice, so fucking understanding. They tell her it wasn’t her fault, that she didn’t know what she was doing, that she was drugged and hallucinating…

It doesn’t really matter though. It was still her hands that held the blade. Her hands that ended his life, stained with his blood. Only Melshi seems to be in agreement.

Afterward, he stops for a second by her side and just looks at her, his gaze burning with the poisonous anger she deserves. Jyn stares back with bleary, unblinking, dead eyes.

He doesn’t say anything, but she hears all his accusations.

Cassian trusted you. Loved you. Gave you a home. You killed him.

You killed him.

He hates her, and it’s almost a relief.

She hates herself too.

⁂

“Tell me,” Jyn asks, her back pressed against the wall on the cot she and Cassian used to share. The fur of his parka tickles her face as she shifts. The coat is too big for her frame, but she can’t part with it. It stills smells like him, a bit, if she closes her eyes, presses her nose against the fabric, and pretends.

Technically, it’s hers now, but she can’t bring herself to think of it that way. This room, his jackets, her heart… things he will always own, no matter how long he’s been gone.

Sitting across from her on a chair, Bodhi heaves a sigh. “I’ve told you —”

“Tell me again.”

He squeezes his eyes shut with a pained grimace but doesn’t object. “We found you underground in that cell, completely oblivious to our presence. You were muttering to yourself. It was clear you weren’t in the right state of mind, but Cassian was just… so relieved we found you alive.” Jyn presses her lips together and sinks her nails into her palm. “You told him to stay back, but it was obvious you didn’t really see him. He was sure he could get through to you. We didn’t see the vibroblade. I…”

He trails off, exhaling a shuddering breath. She knows she’s punishing him by making him relive it over and over again, but the vengeful part of her doesn’t care. He condemned her to a fate worse than death when he lied to her about Cassian, so the least he can give her is this.

“Keep going,” she tells him.

“Jyn —”

“Keep. going.”

“You lunged,” he continues. He’s told the story over a dozen times, but it has yet to stop feeling like someone was carving her heart out of her chest. “It happened so fast, nobody had the time to react. Then…”

“Bodhi,” she warns when he stops again.

“You stabbed him in the neck,” he says, and Jyn squeezes her eyes shut. In her mind, she sees it. Not from her perspective, but as an outsider: Jyn lunging at Cassian, plunging the vibroblade into his throat. Cassian, falling, Jyn, standing over him with a bloody knife. Jyn, realizing the body on the floor was Cassian. Jyn, convincing herself it wasn’t real.

It plays in her mind on repeat; Jyn Erso, best hits. She can’t turn it off.

In all honesty, she doesn’t want to.

“He fell to the ground,” Bodhi goes on, “and that’s when you seemed to realize… You know the rest.”

“Yeah,” she snorts, opening her eyes. “Like how you lied to me.”

You were dying, Bodhi had said later, when she finally had the stomach to look at him again. You flatlined twice, and I was afraid… if I told you, you wouldn’t have wanted to survive.

Well, he was damn right about that. Every day is a struggle. Get out of bed, finish her daily assignments, wander the base like a lost person, think about Cassian. Think about what she did. Sleep. Or try to sleep. She doesn’t remember the last time she did. Isn’t even sure how long it’s been since Cassian —

Weeks, definitely. But time blurs. Maybe, she muses sometimes, maybe she’s still back at that Imperial base, and none of this is real. Nobody came for her, and she’s a prisoner trapped in her mind, living this nightmare.

It probably says something about her that she deeply wishes it was true.

“I’m sorry —” Bodhi begins, but she cuts him off.

“Don’t. I will never forgive you.”

But he’s not the villain here, not really. She is.

Jyn closes her eyes again, knocking her head against the wall as she pictures that day once more from the beginning. Jyn crouching on the floor with her blade. Cassian approaching with his hands held up. Jyn lunging —

“What are you doing?” Bodhi asks.

“I’m trying to picture it,” she answers honestly, and she can practically feel the confusion and concern radiating off him in waves. He still cares, even after everything.

She really wishes he didn’t. Hasn’t he realized that she’s only capable of hurting people?

“Why?”

Jyn doesn’t answer, but her eyes blink open.

“Tell me again,” she says.

⁂

She hears people whisper behind her back as she roams the base like a ghost.

Look. There she goes. Look at her.

Wait, is that —

Yes.

Didn’t she —

Yes.

Isn’t that Jyn Erso, daughter of the man who built the Death Star?

Didn’t she risk her life on Scarif to find the plans?

Didn’t she kill her own husband?

It hurts like nothing in her life ever has, but she doesn’t want the pain to end, and she refuses to learn to live around it. Chirrut tries to tell her to meditate, Bodhi tries to tell her to see a professional, but she laughs them off and avoids them instead. She doesn’t want to move on. She doesn’t want to be okay. She wants it to keep hurting forever, wants his absence to haunt her for the rest of her life, and his face to swim before her eyes every time she closes them.

The only medication she needs is a bottle of whiskey to help her fall asleep.

At night, when she does manage to get some shuteye, she stops dreaming about that day. Instead, she dreams about Cassian. He stands in the doorway of their room, looking the same as her parents had; a hazy film of blue over his eyes, his face rotting, his clothes torn, his smile sad. The gash on his neck is a constant reminder of what she’s done, but he never yells at her or accuses her of killing him.

Instead, he just tells her, “I miss you, Jyn. Come home,” and she knows what he’s asking.

Home is nothing but ashes in an urn. Home is gone.

And home is calling her back.

⁂

“I forgive you,” Jyn says when Bodhi’s door opens with a swoosh. He blinks at her in surprise, lips pulling into a frown.

“What?”

“I said I forgive you. And I want you to have this.” She pushes her necklace into his hands and hesitates, for a second, as he looks down and runs his thumb over the kyber. Her heart twists painfully for a second, but she knows it’ll be in good hands with him. It hasn’t given her comfort in months anyway.

So… what else is there left to do?

When she turns to leave, Bodhi calls after her. “Jyn! Wait. What are you doing?”

She hesitates, glancing around the empty hallway as she pulls Cassian’s parka tighter around her body. “I can’t stay here.”

It doesn’t feel right, not without him, and it’s time to do something about it.

“But your necklace…” He holds it out to her, concern marring his features. Jyn grabs his hand and curls his fingers around the crystal.

“It’s yours now.”

His gaze sweeps across her face, searching for something.

“Will you forgive yourself?” he asks. Jyn gives him a humorless smile.

“You know I can’t.”

“Cassian would forgive you.”

“I know.”

And that’s what makes it worse. He’d loved her until his last moments, and beyond that.

She can’t live with betraying that trust.

“Where are you going?” Bodhi wonders, voice tinged with a hint of sadness. He’s going to miss her, she knows, even despite the way she’s been treating him these past few months.

It’s selfish of her, but the thought is comforting.

“Somewhere far away from here.”

“Will I see you again?” he asks, but his tone suggests he already knows the answer. A small smile curls on her mouth. It’s a sad one, meant for goodbye, but it’s the first genuine smile that graced her lips since Cassian passed.

A weight has been lifted off her chest since she decided to leave. The grief lingers, but she can finally breathe again.

“I don’t think so.” She takes a deep breath and turns before her expression can betray her. “Take care of yourself, Bodhi.”

⁂

It ends the same it did for him.

In a way, it has ended already. She was dead the second he took his last breath, and everything else after that was just a long encore. A ghost who was forced to keep living without a heart.

But Jyn was never meant to survive without him. It was together, or not at all; she’s made that choice a long time ago.

So she twirls her vibroblade in her hand, the same that ended his life, and puts it against her throat.

Cassian is waiting.

#rebelcaptain #rogue one #therebelcaptainnetwork #dailyrebelcaptain #my fics #rcwhumptober #look i have no excuses #im sorry

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obsidiancreates · 3 months

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One Undead To Another (Chapter 9)

Theoretically, no-one should get any sleep that night. For one, it’s almost over. For two, they’ve all been through something unimaginably horrific, multiple times, in only a few hours. Really none of them should ever sleep again.

But Shawn gestures for all three to get onto his bed. “Guys, come on. I can’t… if you’re not helping me with the body, then you’re not watching me take it out either.”

“Spencer, if you think I’m sleeping in this pigsty you call an apartment–”

“Are you going home, Lassie?”

“Obviously not.”

“Then just get a couple hours, man! I’m going to be… busy, anyway.”

“No going out unsupervised, remember?”

“Well, I can’t exactly get rid of the body and stay right here with you at the same time, and you are the one who said you won’t help me move it! All three of you!”

“I don’t like how casually we’re starting to treat this,” Jules says, putting her hands out. “Shawn, just– take him to a hospital, maybe?”

“A hospital? … Jules, I don’t think they can help him there.”

“Well what did you have planned?”

“I don’t know yet! Just– could you guys go to sleep so I can deal with this, alone?”

“You’re the one who was giving a speech about needing friends a minute ago.” Lassiter doesn’t even sit on the bed. Shawn lowers his head and takes a deep breath– it’s less effective than it used to be in helping him keep it together.

“Lassie, Jules, I’m trying but this is… not something I just know how to deal with, okay? It’s getting through one step at a time, right? That’s what you do when something is fu-”

“Shawn.”

“Really, Gus? I can’t say anything stronger than ‘dammit’? Even after all this?”

“Your soul is damned enough already.”

“Great. Really reassuring there, buddy.”

“... Sorry.”

“Just– would you all go, to, sleep?” He looks each of them in the eye as he emphasizes it, and feels something… happen.

It’s almost indescribable. It’s not a physical sensation, and ‘mental’ is close but not quite right, but ‘spiritual’ feels too… light, for what it is. Something just happens, something he feels and is keenly aware of but knows his friends aren’t, and they just…

Do it.

Gus yawns. “I am pretty wrung out.” He lays down. “In all four years we’ve been doing this, nothing’s come close to this bad.”

“Agreed.” Jules covers her mouth as she too yawns. “Just… be careful, Shawn. And come back. Promise me.”

Shawn blinks. He still feels… whatever, that is. Like a… thread? No. A string? No. A tie of some kind? Closer, but not quite. It’s almost impossible to grasp, this… connection, is the best word he can scrape up for it, but still that’s just… not… enough. There’s not a word for what he’s experiencing as Jules lays down and he knows it’s because he did something. He didn’t mean to. It just… happened.

“... I promise I’ll be back.” He means it. He hopes he follows through with it. But his track record of Controlling Himself tonight is pretty terrible.

Lassie yawns next. “Fine. But if you’re not back when we wake up, I’m putting out an APB.”

“Fair enough.” Shawn watches them all settle in, close their eyes, and… sleep. For a second he just stands there and stares. He wishes he could say it’s because he’s trying to figure out what exactly happened. He tells himself that’s what it is, at least. Too bad he’s great at identifying lies.

He swallows the creeping dryness and ache in his throat, turning to the living room. Now he stares down at the body. He gets a flash of memory, of being behind the man and reaching out and–

He shakes his head, pressing his wrist under his nose and squeezing his eyes shut. He didn’t mean to, and– and it wasn’t really him, right? It was… what is this? A curse? An infection? A possession of some kind? All the vampire movies call it something different. The only one he’s sure he can rule out is Gift. It’s literally anything but a Gift.

He crouches down and sighs. “So uh… since ghosts are real, apparently, if you’re still lingering around I just want to say, uh… I’m sorry, for… drinking you, I guess. Ahem. And-and for the fact I’m about to put your body somewhere where it probably can’t be traced back to me. You should know I usually solve murders, so, if anything else had happened to you I would’ve caught them. … I guess that doesn’t help you out much now.”

“I am actually psychic, apparently, so if you’re still here and I can do anything for you to… I don’t know, fulfill a last wish, maybe help you move on… wherever dead people go to rest, I don’t know. I probably should know that now, right? … I guess if I’ve been psychic my whole life I should’ve known the whole time. Sorry, that was, totally off topic. Back to you, uh… whatever your name is. … Was. Seriously, I don’t know how this all works, but, if I can do something to make this… a little less horrible, tell me.”

Silence. Well, no, not silence. He can hear all three heartbeats in the other room, hear the way they all have different patterns to their breathing, hear Gus mumbling in his sleep. He can hear the buzzing of a neon sign left on in the window across the street, he can hear someone shuffling around in the trash behind the street at the end of the block, he can hear everything and the longer he listens the more intense it gets and the farther and farther away he can hear it all and it’s becoming less can and more being forced to and why did he start listening anyway–

‘Fighting.’

Shawn gasps a little as he’s dragged back to himself. His left hand is pressing a finger to his temple, and that voice wasn’t real. Or, it was, but it wasn’t… here. It was quiet, but laid over every other sound, drifting clearly above them, like a single cloud giving relief of shade on an overly sunny summer day. Shawn presses his hands to his chest, then his face, then his legs, trying to reconnect with his body– it’s not the first time he’s had to deal with straying a little too far out of The Here And Now, but it’s the first time he’s wondered if it’s something abnormal.

“Fighting,” he repeats. He looks at the corpse. “Was that you?”

‘Fighting. Badass. Make me look badass.’

The words float through his head, and he thinks he has experienced something like this before, but it was… not different, but, less. It could’ve been his own inner voice, his own thoughts, but maybe it wasn’t. He knows it isn’t this time, at the very least.

“Okay. Okay, I can work with that. Seems like kind of a tame last request for the guy who killed you, though. Do you want uh… an explosion? Big car chase that sent you into the ocean, maybe? How about uh, oh! Secret spy ring?”

He waits. He tries to focus in only on the sounds of his immediate surroundings, resist the wave of everything coming at him– not just sounds, but smells, sights, even tastes. The air has a taste, and it doesn’t taste like a flavor but it tastes… distinct. It tastes like… like…

Like the feeling of standing on a cliff, or the moment he was flying through the air when that van ran his motorcycle off the road all those years ago, or the moments between seeing Yin and diving in to save Abigail. It tastes like anticipation.

Not anything he’d ask for a soda flavor of anytime soon. Maybe an Oreo limited run, if it came with the golden cookies instead of the chocolate, just to balance out how heavy the main flavor is. But anything more concentrated like he’s getting right now, and it’s too much.

It’s too much.

“Come on, man. Give me something, or I’m going to make it look like you went out fighting a group of robot cats or something.”

‘Burned something down.’

“Burned something… you want to look like you died doing arson to fight someone? Okay, uh…” Shawn thinks, and then…

Candles set up in a ring, bordering some weird ritual circle. He sees himself be shoved to his knees in the middle of it. Flash, grain, he’s being dragged out by Gus while fighting happens all around them. Flash, grain, he and Gus are gone and Jules drives a shard of wood into the chest of a woman dressed like an accountant if not for the blood running down her mouth and chin. The woman screams, and then burns starting from the shard going outward– but her bones remain, dusting Jules with ash as it crumbles.

Shawn has to catch himself on his hands after that vision leaves, panting for breath he doesn’t really need anymore as the film grain still swarms his vision. He pushes himself back to a kneeling position and presses his palms into his eyes.

“Okay,” he gasps out. “Okay. Two for one. Got it.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gus wakes up slowly, from a mostly dreamless sleep, with someone’s arm over him. And with sheets that definitely aren’t his under him. And a pillow that’s not even close to the right fluffiness–

“Morning, buddy.”

Gus sits bolt upright, screaming at a pitch that makes Shawn scream as well, clutching his ears and falling off where he sat on his dresser! Jules and Lassiter bolt up next, both screaming as well! All three share a look, Lassiter realizing he has an arm slung over Gus, Jules has an arm wrapped around Lassiter, and they’re all in Shawn’s bed, and the screaming starts again!

They stop only when Jules notices, and then smacks both men on the arms and points out, that Shawn is literally curled into a ball on the floor trying to shove a pair of socks into his ears.

“Oh my god.” Gus scrambles out of bed. “Shawn, please tell last night was–”

“Wish I could, buddy,” Shawn grits out. “Now do me a favor and whisper everything for the rest of forever.”

“Shawn.” Jules keeps her voice as low as she can, crawling out of the bed over Lassiter and crouching with Gus down by Shawn. “What happened after we fell asleep?”

Shawn holds up a hand in a ‘one second’ gesture. He sits up, slowly, keeping his palms pressed flat over his ears. His eyes are still red, fangs still obvious, and now with sunlight filtering in through a poorly-covered window they can see his hair is distinctly shinier and free of any flyaways. It’s like the best version of his usually preferred style. It is, quite literally, perfect.

“Did you do your hair?” Jules whispers.

“Not since yesterday morning. Why?”

“... No reason. Just– what happened, did you–”

“Well, first of all, I uh, managed to contact his spirit.” Shawn gives a smile that they’ve all seen before, less sharp but still oft-worn, but the inauthenticity pours off of Shawn like the slight chill in the air closely surrounding him. “Good news, he was actually really gracious about the whole thing. He actually had a last request for how I make it look like he died, and great news, it totally aligned with some other loose ends we needed to tie up!”

“Well that’s… good.” The doubt is thicker in Jules’s voice than the hair on Shawn’s head. “But, what do you mean by other loose ends?”

“... I may have also technically become an arsonist last night.”

“Jesu-!”

“Lassie, we agreed no religious expletives!”

“You agreed to it, Guster, I have half a mind to dip my gun in holy water and unload every round I have at this point!”

“Look, it covered up for you guys too!”

“What?!”

“Look, I had a vision of you and Jules… taking out the vampires. I saw them turn to ash, but their bones stayed. And they had all those candles in the basement–”

“You knocked one over while we left, I remember.”

“I did? … I guess that’s why I found that singed robe when I went back.”

“You went back?!” Gus falls back a little, rubbing his face.

“The spirits, told me too! The guy wanted to look like he died fighting in a big ball of fire, so it… worked out.”

“You framed the man you killed in a state of vampiric bloodlust for the murders of the vampires who killed you?!”

“No, I did not! I made it appear they tried to kill him and he started a fire in retaliation that got him too! And, for your information, his spirit totally approved of it! I got the spiritual equivalent, of a thumbs-up text.” He gives a thumbs-up just to demonstrate.

“Well, great job, Spencer. By explaining that to all of us you just made of accomplices to murder, arson, and a cover-up!”

“Jules asked!”

“Shawn!”

“You did.”

“Thank you, Gus!”

“Sweet lady justice, as if this wasn’t bad enough, we overslept!” Lassiter finally tumbles out of bed. “O’Hara, I have emergency clothing changes for both of us in my trunk.”

“Oooh, actually Lassie, they’re on my couch.”

“On your- oh, no, no.”

“Look, I tried to run like the wind, I really did, but I think some of the vampire stuff is taking longer to sink in than others.”

Lassiter turns bright red. He reaches for his gun.

“Carlton, calm down!” Jules puts her hand out. “Let’s just get dressed, get to work, and see how bad this actually is!”

“Are you guys sure you should be going?” Shawn stands up, still pressing his hands over his ears. “You all look like… well, like last night happened.”

“Shawn’s right. You and Lassie should at least wash the ashes and blood off.”

“Oh- Carlton, we slept with blood all over us!”

“And?”

“We can’t show up to the station like this!”

“I am not using Spencer’s shower!”

“Just– how about you three go home, and I’ll try to talk The Chief into letting you have the day off? Or, The Chief and whoever Gus’s boss is right now.”

“No need for me. I have over a hundred vacation days saved up, Shawn, I’m taking a full week off and I’m vampire-proofing my entire apartment.”

“Smart move. You should fix your window latch while you’re at it, that thing stands no chance against a well-maneuvered pocket knife.”

“That’s how you get in?!”

“Sometimes.”

“Tsk!”

“Shawn, you can’t just go talk to The Chief right now. For one… your face.” Jules gestures to her own eyes and mouth for emphasis.

“Oh, right. … I’ll get on trying to cover that up. But, you and Lassie need to take a day, seriously, maybe more.”

“Shawn, you know we can’t do that.”

“You have to, you–”

“What about you, Shawn? I mean you… you went through more than any of us last night. You can’t just be okay this morning.”

“Jules, when has anything ever stopped me from doing my thang? I got shot and jumped on top of a car, I’ll be fine! Just… please.” Shawn takes Jules’s hands in his, looks her in the eye, and…

Gus isn’t actually sure what changes. Maybe nothing does. He just knows that when Shawn says “You need to take today off,” Jules blinks once, and then nods, just like that.

“Okay. Okay, maybe you’re right. But you have to convince Lassiter too, and I don’t know how much luck you’ll have.”

Gus would think he imagined it, if it wasn’t for the confused pinch of Shawn’s brows, the alarmed look in his unnatural eyes, and the tightness around his mouth. He knows his best friend, and he knows what Shawn Who Can’t Figure Out Something That’s Freaking Him Out looks like.

“I uh, I think… I’ll have plenty, actually.” Shawn turns, goes out into the living room, and after a few moments of some arguing (mostly from Lassiter), there’s a beat of silence, and…

“Alright, Guster, O’Hara, get in the car,” Lassiter says as he enters the room. “You two parked at my apartment, right? Pick up your cars, go home.”

“Wait– really?” Jules and Gus share the same shock.

“We’re not going to be any help to anyone like this,” Lassiter growls. “Besides, we have to try and get our stories straight.”

“... Alright.”

Jules and Lassiter go straight to the car, but Gus stops before leaving. “Shawn.”

“Yeah, buddy?”

“Lassiter said last night you can’t go anywhere without a chaperone.”

“Oh yeah. … Guess he’s too tired to remember.”

“Shawn.”

“Just– go home, buddy. Please. Let me try to fix some of this, man, it’s… it’s all my fault anywa–”

“Whoa, this isn’t anybody’s fault, Shawn, except those undead dead a-holes.”

“Wow, you feel really strongly about them, huh?”

“They killed you, of course I do!”

“Right. … They wouldn’t have killed me if I hadn’t gone in.”

“They were after psychics. They’d have found you eventually anyway.”

“... Maybe.”

“Just… remember how you convinced Lassie to let you go, okay? Don’t try to deal with this alone.”

“I won’t, man. It’s just today. I’m going to smooth things over with The Chief, and maybe make sure they piece together the cult and the murders and all that. I tried to leave some evidence out, but the best piece was that crystal, and it had my blood all over it.”

“Crystal?”

“I’ll explain later, I… kind of started remembering pretty much everything when I went back.”

“Shawn–”

“Later, Gus, I promise.”

“No, Shawn. It’s not just The Chief and the other detectives you’ll have to make sure believe you.”

“What?”

“Your dad, Shawn. He’s there today.”

“... Oh, crap.”

#psych #psychusa #psych usa #psych 2006 #fanfic #my attempts at fanfic

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waterfallofspace · 1 year

Text

Cute As A Kitten.

The one in which T/amaki has kitten sneezes because of a kitten, but the sweetheart just can’t seem to leave it behind. Feat. worried/caretaker M/irio, and GUEST STARRING E/rasermic at the end!! (gotta love a touch of them in, well, anything I can!) Also M/iriTami is not confirmed, but can definitely be implied if you choose to read it that way~

MAIN CHARACTERS ARE 18+! This is when T/amaki and M/irio are Pro-Heroes, working out of the same agency. (A/izawa still calls them ‘kid’, but that’s just his thing, all his former UA students are ‘kid’ to him, they are not actual children). Since this is my first time posting/writing aged up stuff, if anyone wants to ask me about why I feel it’s okay, feel free to message me, I’d be happy to explain how I see it~~ For now, I’ll just leave it at: I will never write underage characters as underage, or characters who are SPECIFICALLY meant to act/look like little kids when they aren’t ‘technically’. But aged up is something I am okay writing. ANYWAYS! That out of the way, hope anyone who bothers to read this enjoys, I just adore T/amaki (and there’s not enough content of my guy) so I am givin’ him a story!! First time attempting them, so might be a bit rough still~ Thank you so much to anyone who reads!! (and EXTRA THANKS to anyone who reblogs/comments/tags, I read them all and they make my DAY every single time~~) ((References to anxiety disorder/social anxiety (including thinking patterns/spiraling), mild violence, wheezing, and injury, incase anyone doesn’t like any of those!)) Characters: T/amaki, M/irio, a dash of A/izawa and M/ic, & the most adorable kitten (aside from T/amaki~) Word Count: 4.2k

~~~~~~~ “Suneater, over here! Don’t let him get away!” Tamaki spins on his heel, Mirio’s voice echoing from behind him, down an alley he had just found his way out of. Seeing the villain running towards him, Tamaki let his tentacles climb out, one grabbing him by the leg. “Not so fast, I won’t be taken down that easily by an octopus man!” A wince escapes between Tamaki’s gritted teeth, only half from the shooting pain as the villain in his grasp shoots a knife from his hand, right into the tentacle, and through to Tamaki’s arm. “Lemillion…” It’s strangled, at best, but still a yell, and more than enough for Mirio to act on, rising up from the ground and knocking the villain back into Tamaki’s waiting grasp. Clapping him on the arm, and pausing to chuckle as the action nearly knocks him over, Mirio offers a bright smile. “Nice teamwork, and hey! You even managed to call out for help! I could hear you all the way from the alley, that’s a real improvement since last time!” Tamaki pulls his hood a little further down, handcuffing the villain and handing him over to the other pro’s that had arrived on the scene. They offer thanks, and Mirio responds in kind, signature smile painted over his features once more. Tamaki can’t help but stare, still captivated after all these years by the light that seems to shine from his eyes. “Psst, Suneater, give ‘em a smile!” “I don’t think they want that…” Despite the hesitance, Tamaki can’t help but notice a group of bystanders staring, one of them a girl that can’t be much older then Eri was when he first met her. The memories flash through his brain of Mirio giving her a smile, and the way her face lit up in the afterglow. ‘I’m no Lemillion… but maybe… maybe I can give her a little bit of brightness too… I should probably try, if nothing else…’ The smile doesn’t reach his eyes, and his hands are shaking more than he’d care to admit, but all of that melts away when the little girl squeals, bouncing on her tiptoes, and waving frantically. Tamaki waves back, letting his hood slip a little further back as the sun from her eyes starts to fill him with warmth. ‘Is this… what Mirio feels all the time…? No… it wouldn’t be… he’s so much brighter then I could ever hope for. This is nothing, she’s just excited to see a hero, it doesn’t matter that it’s me…’ “Tama- I mean Suneater, look at that!? You’re a natural!” Mirio’s voice pulls him out of his spiral, eliciting a blush as Tamaki realizes he’s still waving, followed by a low whine at the pain still throbbing in his arm. “I should probably get this stitched up… c- can we go home…?” “Right, sure thing! We’ll head back to the agency first though to finish up the paperwork for this case. Unless… are you gonna make it through that?” Tamaki lets a muted smile pass over his features at the concern evident in Mirio’s voice. “I’m okay, it’s not deep. I just… want to get out of here… and uh… m- maybe take a back route…? I uh… I just-” “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain it to me. You did really well today, we can end on a high note! I mean hey, you waved to that little girl, and did you see the way her face lit up? You really did shine today~!” “T- thanks… Ijustwannagohome…” The laughter is sweet and loud, full of unabashed sunshine. Full of Mirio. Full of something Tamaki could never quite get himself to feel. Wandering into the back alleys to avoid the crowd, the heroes start to find their way back to the agency. They walk for almost 30 minutes, until Tamaki suddenly stops, Mirio nearly crashing into him. “Woah, sorry, wasn’t watchi- what’s with that look? Is something wrong?” Tamaki holds a hand up to silence Mirio, every hair on his neck standing on end. ‘There was a noise… maybe the villain had a partner… what if they’re coming back to attack us for catching their friend… I did okay with the first one, but I’m injured, I’m gonna be even more usel-’ “Tamaki, look!” Mirio’s face is lit once more, pointing towards a trashcan to their left. Tamaki turns to investigate, a warm pit starting to form in his gut as he sees what’s waiting for them. A kitten, half buried in the can, shivering from the cold. It lets out another pathetic meeww~ before Mirio rushes over and scoops it up. “Aw, is this what you heard? Look at her- oh, him, scuse me! He’s such a cute little thing, you wanna hold him?” Tamaki lets the kitten be passed into his arms, shuddering slightly at the sudden weight of responsibility that seems to have found its home on his shoulders. And yet… looking down at the kitten, purring softly, seeming to have not a care in the world now that he’s snuggled up in Tamaki’s arms… a soft feeling replaces the heaviness. Something warm. “Can we keep him..?” It’s timid and soft, full of bashful beauty. Full of Tamaki. Full of something Mirio could never quite seem to get enough of. He would do anything to hear that tone for the rest of his life, and I mean, how could he possibly say no to him when he’s talking like that?! “Aw~ of course we can!” “Hahh-!” “Hm?” “N- nothing. Sorry. Just thought… oh wait… hehh- holdon- I haahhhh…. hEH! hh’kITSHH’ieww-! hAHH… ihhh… hihh- ihH! hEH’ISH’iew-! Ohgod- hehhh… hiH! sshh’oo-! tishh’oo-! keshh’iew-!” “Bless you!” “Th- huhhh… thanks…” “One more, right? You still have that sneezy look on your face!” Tamaki blushes, nose still twitching madly, the kitten in his arms completely unaffected by the tiny sneezes the being holding him is letting out. “Y- yeah.. Sohhhehh-! Sorry… I can still feel it but… b- buhhhhh! But I don’t think it’s coming out…” “Oh, that’s the worst! I hate it when that happens. It’s just tickling, and itching, and building up… you feel every inch of your nose trembling, but nothing comes of it! Just like a feather’s swirling around, even your lungs itch with the need to sn-” “hiH! hH’ishh’oo-! shh’oo-kshh’oo-hAH! Hehh… EHH-! tish’hiew-! mmpffshh’iew-! hH! Hehh… hAH-... guhhh… I haahhh… hiHhh- have to- heH…. hUH! mMtishh’shiew-!” “Oh- bless you again! And again and again! Sorry, was that my fault? Didn’t mean to make it worse.” “It’s okay… it feels better now anyways… s- sorry about that…” “You don’t gotta apologize for sneezing. It’s a perfectly natural bodily function, and not exactly something you get to control! Pluuuus~ they’re so adorable!” If Tamaki was blushing before, he’s at least tripled the shade by now. ‘Natural or not, that was embarrassing… a pro hero should have more control over their own body… not to mention how long they take to come…. I’m just sucking up all this attention that I don’t deserve… and don’t want…’ “Hey.” Mirio’s gaze is soft, but there’s a fierceness just under the surface. Something deep, primal, and protective. “Don’t beat yourself up, okay? I see your mind spiralling, I promise, it’s okay. It’s just me here, you know I don’t mind.” “Th- thanks… I’m so-” “Don’t apologize, okay? You don’t need to, not with me.” With a gentle touch, Mirio pushes the hood back from Tamaki’s face, his purple hair messily pouring out. A bit brushes against his nose, prompting Tamaki to gasp, and lean into his shoulder. “Ishh’oo! Hehh… hIH’kishh’iew-! Hihh- haah…. Ehhh… heH! Keshh’oo-! Hehh- hH-! Shhh’oo-! mmPFshh’iew-” The way Tamaki trembles through the tiny sneezes wakes the kitten, who lets out a weak meww~, purrs, and proceeds to let out a sneeze with a softness that matches Tamaki’s. “Aww Tamiii~ You and the kitten have the same sneeze! That’s so cuuuute~!” Tamaki’s response is to let out a low groan and pull his hood back over his face, picturing the floor caving in beneath him and letting the ground swallow him whole. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop teasing you. For real though, are you okay? You’re sneezing quite a bit, catching a cold?” “No, I feel fine. Just a bit… itchy…” “Hayfever starting to kick in already? It’s only January, usually cedar pollen doesn’t start till February. Maybe it’s coming early this year?” “Maybe…” There’s a hint of a lie in his tone, but Mirio doesn’t seem to pick up on it. Tamaki lets him ramble on as they start to continue the walk home. He’s going on about hayfever, something to do with global warming, season changes… and Tamaki wants to listen, but with the way the kitten’s purring is sending shivers right into his heart, the buzzing in his nose that still hasn’t backed off, and the pain throbbing in his arm, he’s just too overwhelmed. ‘I should be paying attention. Three sensations shouldn’t be taking up all my mental energy… Mirio wouldn’t let this affect him this much… I really am useless… Why can’t I just deal with it like he can-’ “You’re doing it again, aren’t you?” “D- doing what..?” Mirio pauses, studying Tamaki’s eyes for any sign of panic. They both know he’ll find plenty of anxiety, and maybe a bit too much sadness for either of their liking, but the panic is what he wants to make sure to avoid. Satisfied with no traces, Mirio decides it’s alright to keep going. “You’re in your own little spiral again. May I?” He reaches for Tamaki’s hood, pausing just shy of contact, letting Tamaki decide if he can handle it. Tamaki gives a small nod, careful to tip his head back so his hair falls to the side instead of right on his face, not eager for a repeat performance. “That’s better, there’s your beautiful eyes. I miss them when they’re hidden~!” “Hihhh- hH’ishh’oo-! kshh’iew-! tishh’oo-! Hahh… hehhh-!uhhh…. Guhh… hUH! mmpftishh’oo-keshh’iew-!” “Bless you. Hey, have you heard that Chargebolt transferred to Dynamite and Deku’s agency? Yeah, apparently his boyfriend already works there, and they finally convinced him to join too! Apparently he was working at one with a few other friends from UA, and-” Tamaki can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief as Mirio continues on, feeling much more relaxed with someone else as the topic of conversation. Mirio was always good at that. Putting him at ease by providing a constant stream of talking, leaving spaces for him to interject if he has any opinions, or even just give little hums of approval so they both stay grounded in the conversation. However, the relief is short lived, as the next breath he takes starts the tickling back up with a vengeance. ‘I should really tell Mirio what’s going on… but….’ He glances back down at the kitten sleeping in his arms, gently kneading the fabric of his costume, a peacefulness to it that just feels cruel to take away. ‘He’ll make me leave it behind…’ “Tamaki? Are you listening?” “Hm..? S- sorry, I was uh…” “Hey, don’t sweat it. I was just asking if you wanted to stop by Deku’s agency and show him the kitten! I don’t think Bakugou would particularly want to see him, bit of a grump that one! But Midoriya would probably fawn over him, I imagine Denki would too-” “hEhh… hIH’nXgt’shoo-!” “Bless you! But if you’re not feeling up to it, that’s okay too! Maybe tomorrow? We’re taking the kitten home after all- hey wait, just had a thought, why don’t we host a small get together so people can meet the kitten! We could invi-” “Hah… hUH- hhhih! guhhh… hhEH! nngXT’shoo-! nGT-!huhhh” “-bless you again. Let ‘em out, don’t stifle, just us here. What was I saying? Oh, right! Invite Denki, and he would probably bring Shinsou, that guy seems to love cats! And Midoriya of course, who would probably drag Bakugou along with him, and maybe ev- oh, another one?” “heHh-! Yes, s- sorry… I just… Hahhh…. Haahhh… Igottasneeze-! ihhh-hIH! hH’ishh’iew-! heH’utshh’oo-! Hehh… hAH- guhhh… S- sorry ithhhih! It’s so dramatic… hahh-! It just tiihhhh- tickles! heH!uhhh… hahhh… huH! tishhh-kshhh-hEH’ishh’oo-!” Mirio playfully slaps Tamaki’s arm, immediately apologizing when a hiss escapes Tamaki’s teeth, “Right, hurt arm, sorry!” before deciding instead for a light rub on the back, pressing his other hand against Tamaki’s forehead, and letting out a slight sigh when he doesn’t feel a fever. “Bless you. You know I don’t mind the sneezing… but… I have to admit Tami, I’m a bit worried. You don’t feel warm, so I believe you that it’s not sickness but… even with the seasons coming earlier, pollen count was pretty low this morning, definitely not high enough to be causing this much of a reaction.” “Y- yeah…not pollen…” “Tamaki Amajiki! Do you- do you know what’s causing this..?!” Tamaki blushes deeply at the use of his full name, guilty eyes darting down to the kitten, then back up to Mirio. “Are you allergic to cats?!” “M- maybe… yeah… I am… I’m sorry Miri, I just… I wanted to keep it… he looked so sleepy, and warm… and I didn’t want to have to leave him here…” Mirio brings a hand to his chest, giving a small gasp, which halts Tamaki in his tracks, turning with wide eyes to meet Mirio’s playful gaze. “You think I’d make you leave the kitten out here all alone?! What kind of villain do you think I am? Wow Tams, I can’t believe you think I’d be so heartless!” A pale tint settles over Tamaki’s face, the weight back on his shoulders nearly driving him into the ground. His thoughts start to race faster than he can keep up with. ‘I didn’t mean it like that… I did think that though… what kind of friend am I? To think he’d do something so cruel, of course he wouldn’t make me leave it… he probably hates me now… he thinks I think he’s an awful person…. I can’t believe I said tha-’ “Tamaki.” Strong hands break through the barrier of panic that had settled around him, gently brushing the hair from his face. “I’m not angry with you, okay? Take a deep breath, I promise I was kidding. I’m sorry, I should have seen that you were too overstimulated to be able to separate that out from my normal tone. It’s my fault, not yours, okay? Let the blame rest on me, don’t try to shoulder a burden you didn’t earn.” Kind eyes meet Tamaki’s watery ones as he manages to lift his gaze off the ground. Mirio pulls him close, letting Tamaki rest his head on his shoulder, taking a beat to just collect himself. ‘He’s not mad. I didn’t screw up.’ and then ‘I need to sneeze-’ “heHH! M- Mirio… I… I neehhhdd… hehhh… hAHhh-! hH’nGT’shoo-! nXT-!uhhh…. Hihhh.. I can’t.. I can’t stiihhh stifle… Igottasnee- ksHH’oo-! Hehh- ahhh… hhUH! hHMmppshh’oo-! tishhh’oo! Mmtishh’iew-!” Mirio just pulls Tamaki’s head into his shoulder, letting his twitching nose bury itself in his costume as he lets out the itchy, albeit tiny, sneezes. “Bless you. It’s alright, I don’t mind. Better me than your allergen-infested hands. Tamaki blushes again, ‘At this point I’m blushing more than I’m not, does that make blushing my default state, and not blushing is actually blushing now? That… that makes no sense… stop being an idiot Tama-’ “Focus on me, okay? Don’t let yourself get lost in your own head. I’m right here, I’ve got you.” Once again, Mirio breaks him out of the spiral, instead bringing his focus back to the shining eyes beaming down on him with kindness he’s not sure he’s worthy of. “T- thank you… sorry…” “It’s okay. However, now we gotta figure out what to do about this kitten. As much as I adore seeing you show your feline side with those kitten sneezes, I have a feeling this is only gonna get worse, am I right..?” “It… it probably will… s-heH… hhhahh…. hUH! mMtishh’oo! mmpshhh’iew-! Hehh… hAH’tishh’oo-! Sorry… it usually starts off slow, but sometihhhmes if I don’t… remove the allergen… it can get worse…” “Yeah, that’s what I figured. Bless you by the way! Your allergies were never what one would call subtle~. I remember the first time I saw you out in springtime unmedicated… Jeez, I was seriously concerned you might faint! Kitten as they might be, your sneezes seem to take an awful long time to build up, I keep worrying you’re gonna run out of breath before the release even comes!” “hEH! Hahhh… guhhh… Y- yeah, it’s always been like that. It’s… kinda mortifying at times… it just takes… taahhhkes…. S- sorry imgonna- huhhh- heH! mMMtishh’uue-! keshh’oo! tishh-ishh-shhh’oo-! Excuse me… takes so long to build sometimes.” “Bless you! Hey, at least it’s not like mine! Scared poor Hado nearly to death last week with one of my sonic blasts, it just came outta nowhere! Usually I get at least some warning so I can try to muffle them. I’d trade- bless you- trade anything for your little teeny tiny ones! They’re just so adorable! Though I’ll admit, having such a long build- bless you!- buildup must get annoying at times.” “Hihhh… nnehhh… nnMPshh’iew-! heH! G- gonna… I… hahhh.. I gotta… gottaahhhh… huhhh… hHH! Keshh’oo-! heH’ISHH’iew-! Sorry- wait… nohhhh… huhhh… not- not done… hiH’TISHH’iew-! mMPFshh’oo-! nNGT-!uhhh… heHh… tishh’oo-! Sorry… bless me…” “Hey, that’s my job!” “S- sorry..!” Mirio’s laughter floods the dark alley with light as they step out into the street, looking up and getting their bearings. “Alright! Hero agency is just over there, but I actually have a different destination in mind. Think you can handle a quick stop? I’ve thought of the perfect place to bring our little friend.” “Y- yeah… can I ask where..?” “Don’t worry, it’s someone who will help.” ~~~~~~~ This is how Tamaki finds himself standing outside Aizawa’s apartment, at 10pm, kitten in his arms, Mirio by his side, as Aizawa stands at the door in his pajamas. “Heya sir!” “Mirio, I’ve told you, we’re adults now, you can use my name.” “Right- sorry sir- I mean Aizawa! Still getting used to it, sorry ‘bout that! But, hopefully this will earn forgiveness, we’ve brought you a gift!” “hIHH… guhhh… hehh- hAH! nngXXT-!uhhh…. heH’enngt-!huhhh….” “Bless you, Tamaki.” “T- thanks… sorry… the uh… the gift is the kihhhh… s- sorry I… Igottasnee… hehh-! hhh’nngT’shoo-! nGT-!uhhh…. Hihh… hAHH-! kNNGT-!shuhhh….” “Bless yo-” “Hey, quit that, stifling them like that is just gonna make the tickle worse! Plus, it’s gonna give you a headache. Aizawa doesn’t mind, do you sir?” Aizawa lightly chuckles at the deep blush spreading across Tamaki’s face, but it’s quickly quieted by concern at the slight wheeze to his breath as he ducks into his shoulder. “Hihh…. I have… I gotta… huhhh- I have to… HAHhhh…. Guhh…. Hahhh! mMPFshhh’oo-! heH’etshhh’oo-! Hishh’oo-! Kishh’uhh-! Hehh… hahh… huETCH’iew-! mMPFSHH’iew-! hH’asSHH’uhh-!” Mirio is wearing the same concerned frown as Aizawa at the harshness of the outbursts. “They’re starting to sound rough, are you okay?” “Y- yeah… sorry… that was gross… but my uh… my hands are… kinda full… and… I di- didn’t think touching… my nose with them would be… a g- good idea…” A light seems to go off in Aizawa’s eyes, eliciting a raised eyebrow and a slight smirk. “Tamaki, are you allergic to the kitten?” The blush darkens, but Tamaki offers a nod, eyes glued to the floor once more. “Oh my god kid, give me the cat before you pass out. Hey Mic-!” Tamaki hands over the kitten, wincing at the way his arms slightly tremble when the warmth leaves them. There’s a faint sound of footsteps before Mic shows up, wearing matching pajamas, eliciting “awws” from Mirio, and a deeper blush from Tamaki. “Yeah Sho? Oh- we have company, hello there! What are you guys doing here so la- woah Tamaki, you look awful!” “Th… thanks…?” “Sorry, sorry, didn’t mean to get all harsh just then. I feel a little lost here, Sho, catch me up?” Aizawa fills Mic in on the situation, gesturing to Tamaki and whispering something neither of them can quite catch, before Mic rushes off back into the apartment. “Alright kid, just wait here for a second, I’ve sent Mic to grab something for you.” “S- sir…” “Aizawa. Same as I said to Mirio, we’re adults, you’re on the same footing as me, you can use my name.” “S- sorry… Uh… Aizawa… is… would it… I was just wondering… hehh- holdon… haah!... so- sorry… hiHH! hETShh’yuu-! hASH’oo-! heH’huETchh’uee-!” Mirio lets his smile slip for a minute at the wheezing notes in Tamaki’s lungs as he struggles to catch his breath, his hand rubbing supportively on Tamaki’s back, trying to help him get his footing back as he stumbles with the effort of each sneeze. Aizawa is watching, the frown deepening as he calls back to Mic to hurry up, and places his hand on Tamaki’s shoulder. “Take your time, kid. Just breathe, okay?” “S- sorry… I’m okay… but uh… I was just… wondering if… maybe… I could come visit him sometime…? I just… he’s so…. Warm….” There’s something unsaid, something deeper than Tamaki cares to admit, something about the peaceful way the kitten slept in his arms. As if it felt completely safe. It wasn’t scared of him at all, it didn’t want something from him, it didn’t think he’d drop it. It had this unconditional faith in him… ‘Reminds me of someone…’ “On two conditions. One, you take medication beforehand. Because quite frankly, right now I’m worried you might keel over at any moment. You look about ready to faint, and that whistling in your lungs has me about ready to drive you to the hospital.” “S- sorry… I promise… I will… once I take meds… It’ll calm doowwnn… hehh! hETSH’oo-! hH’ASHH’iew-! Keshh’oo-! Sorry… excuse me…” Aizawa softens his gaze, not missing the way Mirio’s grip tightens protectively on Tamaki’s arms as the sneezes seem to wrack his weakened body. “Bless you, kid. Condition number two, you have to give him his name.” Tamaki’s eyes widen, and his gaze snaps to meet Aizawa’s, eliciting a laugh from the older man. “Hey, you’re the one who found him after all, it should be you who gets to name him. Don’t you think so, Mirio?” “Yeah, absolutely! Do you have any names picked out already Tamaki?” “Uh… a- actually I kinda do… I was thinking… maybe… Nikkō..?” A small smile flashes across Tamaki’s face, and Mirio is beaming down at him. Aizawa can’t help but let his own smile take over, the scene before him just too precious not to adore. “Nikkō it is then. Naming a tabby ‘sunlight’, pretty fitting actually. Any particular reason for the name?” Before Tamaki has to explain any further, Mic returns to the door, a water bottle and blister pack of meds in one hand, a travel pack of tissues in the other. ‘I don’t know how much longer I can take this… I’m being a burden on all of them… I just want to go home…’ Tamaki feels himself slipping back into the spiral, and frantically looks up to meet Mirio’s eyes. He’s not disappointed with the light shining back at him, full of concern and care. Using it to ground himself, Tamaki turns his attention back onto what Mic’s saying. “Grabbed what you wanted, Sho! And added the tissues myself because, well-” “hIIHH-! Uhhh… hahh.. heHH! isHH’oo-! kETSHH’iew-! mmMPShh’oo-! Hehh… hAH! mmTISH’iew-! hH’nGT-!uhhh… hihh! nXT-!huhhh…. hIHH!guhhhh… ihhh… hahh! nGT-mNXXT-DGXXT-!shoo….” “-looks like you could use them. Triple blessings times three, little listener!” “Zashi, dear, what did we say about using that nickname on people in the real world?” “We- we said not to… Aw but Sho~, come on, it’s so fun to use!” Tamaki and Mirio exchange a glance as Aizawa slaps Mic lightly on the back of the head, both men laughing as he does so. Tamaki makes no effort to reach for the offerings, instead swiveling around to aim for his shoulder again as his breath catches once more, so Mirio accepts them, offering thanks, before starting to herd Tamaki away. Relief floods Tamaki’s mind immediately. Much as he trusts Aizawa and Mic, having a full allergy attack in front of this many people is more than he can handle for long. “It’s okay Tami. It’s just us now, you can let them go.” “hEH! MMTSHH’oo-! hH’ishh’yuu-! hah’tSHH’iew-! So… so itchy… haH! hH’etshhh’uue-! hEH’huTCH’shoo-! ishh-tishhh-kshhh’oo-! mMMPFSHH’iew-!” “Bless you. Swallow these, okay?” Mirio offers, handing over the pills and water, before pulling out a handful of tissues and passing those over too. “You can blow, it’s okay, it’s just us. I promise no one else can hear you.” “O- okay… thank you…” “No problem, Tamaki! That’s what I’m here for!” ‘Maybe I’m not the sun… but I am still the luckiest person in the world… the sun chose me..!’ He lets himself think, a smile forming over his face, before he turns away and lets himself blow, the smile returning as he feels Mirio’s hand gently rubbing his back. “Thanks Miri~...” “You wanna go home now?” He looks up at Mirio, eyes wide, which prompts Mirio to burst out laughing, the brightness flooding Tamaki’s senses, filling him with that same warmth that he thought had left with the kitten. He doesn’t answer, just gives a small nod, and Mirio takes him by the hand, leading him down the hall. We don’t have to go anywhere, I’m already home. Home is wherever you are.

#waterfallwrites #m/ha #t/amaki a/majiki #hes just my precious little anxious bean #I adore him so much its not funny #also this isnt my favourite thing ive written #I dont find m/irio really easy to write tbh #but i feel like i understand t/amaki bc i basically am him in my friendgroup LMAO #plus i adore himmmm #sooooo i gave it a shot #something's better than nothing right?? RIghT???#but again anyone who reads this thank you and i hope you enjoy!!!#snz #snzkink #snzfic

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celestiall0tus · 18 days

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Paradise - Chapter 24 - Despair and Forsaken

Beginning || Previous || Next

Zoe and Felix found themselves back in the gauntlet from before. They exchanged glances before they stepped down along the invisible path, witnessing their pasts again. Felix paid little attention to his own and more on Zoe’s past. Repulsion and regret tore through him seeing what she had to endure up to this point compared to him. He chanced glances at her, but her eyes never met his and remained on each of their memories.

Zoe and Felix walked in silence until they reached the end. Zoe stepped forward while Felix hung back. He watched as Plagg and Silkii materialized, ready to finish this. He grimaced as he looked at her.

“I’m sorry for what you’ve had to go through, Zoe,” Felix said.

Zoe paused. A long silence passed between them before she turned and glared at him. “I don’t want to hear anything from a blue blood like you.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re all the same, right to your core. Your little family problems define who you are without ever having to face true suffering. You act as if your problems are the end of the world while the world ends many times over for people like me and Void.”

Felix sneered. “Hey, I was trying to be nice, brat.”

“Nice? You think your empty words are remotely nice? I don’t fucking care what you have to say. Your false sincerity means nothing to me, blue blood prick. Why don’t you just crawl back to your gilded cage and sing your pitiful song while you sit in the lap of luxury while you bitch about your trivial problems being the end of the world!”

Felix bristled. “My problems are just as real as yours.”

“Oh, I’m sorry that your daddy issues are a real big problem. I’m sorry you’re a little bitch and can’t fight for yourself because you’re daddy’s little bitch! Oh, you’re so unlucky that you have literally everything else except a loving father. Fuck you.”

“And you should get over yourself. You’re not the only person struggling around her. News flash, tiny tyke, we all have issues, and yours don’t make you special.”

Zoe tensed up, her eyes widened, her pupils constricted, and her lips curled back into a vicious snarl. “You have no right to use those words against me, blue blood. You have had everything handed to you! You have a home, security, money, a loving family minus your father. You. Have. Everything! And you stand there and have the gall to project yourself onto me?”

Felix tsked. “I’d never do that. I’d have no reason to project myself onto a child that could never understand.”

“Never understand? Never understand! I understand plenty! I understand that the world is catered to your kind, blue blood. That people like me and Void are tossed aside and only brought up when you need to use us before you toss us aside again. You live luxurious, content lives while the rest of us scrape by. Have you ever feared you’d lose your home? Have you ever had to go hungry for days before you’d get your next meal? Did you ever feel isolated by everyone and feel like you never should have been born? Did you ever have to fall into the very pits of hell just to survive? Did you have your family that you found ripped away from you just to be used by blue bloods?”

“No.”

“Exactly. I don’t want to hear shit from the likes of you, blue blood. I’ve had to fight. I’ve had to survive. I had to sacrifice any sense of normalcy just to ensure I would live. It would have been easier to give up like that failure of a father, but I refuse to. This is my life. I was brought into it by accident, but I won’t let life beat me down. I know what’s of value out there. I know what’s worth fighting for. I know what’s worth living for. Can you say the same?”

Felix didn’t answer.

“I didn’t think so. Why don’t you do us all a favor and get rid of yourself like that failure of a father. We don’t need more people like you in this world. Plagg, let’s go.”

“Do you-?” Plagg started.

“Yes to everything, so long as you don’t destroy what I value most like that bitch tried to.”

“You have my word. Even I know the value in keeping what we love, and to destroy anything that would threaten it.”

Zoe’s face softened. She scooped up Plagg and pressed her forehead against his tiny head. His body dissolved into shadows that enveloped her and she vanished.

Felix turned away towards the path they came. He saw his memories clear as day while Zoe’s echoed and faded into the darkness. Anger lingered but were overpowered by bitterness and envy.

“You don’t have to be like this, if you don’t want,” Silkii remarked.

“It’s all I know how to be,” Felix whispered.

“Well, you can be like the little woman child, forced to grow up far faster than she should have. Be like what you envy because it’s not you. You can break free and betray those that gave you everything. You can finally take command. It just takes one little word now.”

Felix sighed. He looked back at his memories of all the time under Colt’s thumb and the small reprieves he was given by Amelie. He didn’t like the idea of going against and betray Amelie, but he could feel it, deep down, he longed for freedom. He wanted to escape his gilded cage for good. He wanted his life to be his own.

Felix took a deep breath and turned to Silkii. “Yes, to everything.”

Silkii grinned. She bowed her head as her body dissolved into shadow. It wrapped around Felix and dragged him down into the void.

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#miraculous ladybug #miraculous #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #miraculous au #au #alternate universe #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #mlb fanfic #paradise au #felix fathom #zoe lee

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bohemian-nights · 5 months

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There’s something I’m really trying to wrap my head around: if you hate Nettles for breaking up Daemon and Rhaenyra then what difference does her skin color make?Like, I’ve definitely criticized Martin for his habit of having an older man finally meet his soulmate who just happens to be a young dark haired tomboy but I’m consistent about it. Why would Nettles being white make her more palatable? She’s still breaking up a ship

When I say that Nettles being race-bent would make her more appealing to this fandom, I’m basically going off of the pattern with other fandoms when it comes to Black female love interests and how this fandom has been treating her so far.

Go into any fandom(The Bear, The Flash, Marvel, Sleepy Hollow, Vampire Diaries, The Flash, Twisted, Riverdale, you name it, it’s there) and watch how they act when a Black girl might get/gets with the resident fandom hottie that everyone lusts after.

Like clockwork suddenly there are a million and one excuses on why she can’t get with the guy or how their relationship is “wrong”(she doesn’t need a man she’s strong and independent, why can’t she just be friends with him, they have no chemistry, it’s abuse, she’s a lesbian, etc).

Google fandom misogynoir and what pops up will leave you feeling a mix of vindication cause you aren’t going crazy and severely depressed because no one really accepts accountability or gives a sh*t so the problem keeps festering for years.

People will try to gaslight you into thinking nothing is wrong(which is what they are currently doing with Nettles since her fanbase is small) until people are finally forced to admit that there is a problem once they've been called out by white people or several articles have been written about their vicious behavior. By then it's too late.

Most Black people leave fandoms for this kind of abuse because when you are treated like less than in real life then when you try to have some fun like everyone else you are still treated like crap. Fandoms should serve as a source of escapism, yet for Black fans they are just another headache.

The only reprieve Black women have is when we create our own shows and movies (which people still get mad at but that's another discussion) and even then sometimes you are still dealing with a load of bullcrap(Shonda Rhimes I am looking at you).

The reason why this happens is because sadly fans use most of these female characters as self inserts. And while Black girls have no problem seeing themselves in other women the same isn’t true for other women(and that has to do with the ignorant belief that they are better because they aren’t Black).

These people are not used to not being put on a pedestal for nothing other than having the right skin tone so when once in a blue moon that doesn’t happen(or it looks like it won’t happen) it sends some into panic mode and thus comes in a need to put those Black characters back into the undesirable box.

The HOTD/Dance fandom in particular has a problem with this.

See how before this show Laena used to be thought of as Daemon’s great love, but the moment she became Blackish she was tossed to the side in favor of saying Miss Maegor was his great love, called her N-word, and compared her to a monkey. People don't have a nice word to say about show!Laena unless it's to support a ship where their self-insert is at the center of that didn't even happen with essentially no canon basis.

And you can’t use the excuse that the fans don’t ship it because Daemon was a crappy husband to Laena. After all, Dumbnyra wasn’t portrayed in a healthy light either yet it’s the most popular ship in this fandom by a long shot.

Now, I obviously don’t think everybody would suddenly start shipping Dettles if she were white or race-bent, but for a great deal of the people objecting to the ship and hating on her, it seems that Nettles’ race is the main reason why:

The fact that you have Dumbnyra stans(the last highlighted one) respecting Alys(a character from another team who they actively dislike) more than Nettles says it all and if that’s not enough then you also have this:

I guess props to them for at least acknowledging that Nettles is Daemon’s lover, but saying it’s fine to replace her with a white woman? Okay😒

Another anonymous individual straight up admitted they don’t want Daemon with a Black woman:

And it’s not as if people haven’t actively wanted Nettles to be race-bent, denied she’s Black-ish in the first place(see people thinking that it’s impossible for Black people to have brown skin🙃), or said that she was going to be played by insert non-Blackish.

Even when that beach photo was leaked no one really bothered looking for the two Black actresses in the pictures(some dumba** literally thought a obviously Black woman wasn’t Black and instead was a white woman in Black face because she wasn’t the color of the night sky🤦🏽‍♀️).

Team Green is not innocent either because the only value they see in Nettles is as a prop for a racist white woman’s awakening or as a gotcha moment to say Daemon is a pedo:

I would take you guys saying she's a child and her relationship with Daemon is icky seriously if you didn't ship the white version of Dettles, Alysmond.

All of this isn’t a coincidence. Nettles’ race is literally the thing that makes these people uncomfortable with her character, her relationship with Daemon, and her presence in the show(and the book for those who actually read it and didn’t immediately descend into a fit of rage at the mere mention of her name). She’s disrespected and treated like sh*t from this fandom because she's Black.

Again everything wouldn’t be peaches and cream if Netty wasn’t who she was, but as it stands, Daemon and Nettles would not be met with such visceral hate and repulsion if Nettles were white(or even non-Black) instead of a Black girl which non-Black fan girls refuse to actually relate to.

#bnasks #bnask #nettles #daemon targaryen #daemon x nettles #daemon targaryen x nettles #hotd fandom misogynoir #bncommentary #anti hotd fandom #anti asoiaf fandom #i’m tired 🙃

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mathiwrites · 16 days

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martha kent & pie 🥧

chapter 1 of a thousand leagues of food

SUMMARY

Everyone knows about Martha Kent's famous pies; they're the best in the midwest. The real question is, do you know why Martha loves pie? They say, the most important ingredient is love.

Note: Thank you @angelosearch for inspiring me and letting me use your thesis for the basis of this fic!

Additional note: I'm open to suggestions for characters you'd like to see in future chapters, I'm making a list!

Martha Clark loves pie.

She loves the way it moves beneath calloused hands—hands that have worked the farm all day. The strength just as much as it demands attention, threatening to crumble at a careless touch. She loves the way it shapes the man who kneads it, outlining the divot between muscle and bone of his forearm. He’s got his sleeves rolled up, and oh, what a sight to see.

Her teeth catch on her lip, a little too thoughtful as she watches.

“Bored?” The farm boy asks.

“Not at all,” answers the city girl. “Tired?”

“Not at all.”

His grin is dashing, a flash of bright white framed by deep dimples. His nose looks impressively straight, except for the faint bump that she’s traced a hundred times over while laying in his arms, cradled by his bed. He’d broken it in high school roughhousing with his former teammates on the football team. Jonathan Kent is all but a mystery, but she loves every single thing about him.

“Come, I’ll show you.” He gestures to her, and she slips off of the stool to wipe a stray dusting of flour off his face.

“I thought you were treating me to dinner, handsome? Kent family’s famous pie.” Her own lips are painted a soft pink. Red’s for ugly girls, her mother would say. Insecure girls who need attention. She finds that she wants his, and maybe next time she’ll dare. “Isn’t the recipe a secret?”

“Mhm.” Jonathan frames her petite body with his arms, sliding his rough palms over her soft hands and guides her fingers through the dough. “Family only.”

The thought sends a shiver through her spine, or is that the warmth of him pressed against her back? He considers me family. It’s a lovely thought; it makes her fall all the more in love with him. Martha won’t let him off easy—what kind of gal does he think she is?

“You proposin’ to me, Mister Kent?”

His laughter rumbles in his chest, echoed into her from the proximity. “Not at all, Miss Clark. See, if I was proposin’, you’ll bet there’ll be a big hullabaloo. Pretty city girl turns her back on the social elite, runs off with a dashing farmer. It’ll be on all the Kansas papers.”

“Jonathan! You’ll give my mother a heart attack.”

Jonathan leans close, kissing her cheek. “Nah, when I propose, you’ll know it.”

Martha tips her head giving him more access, and turns to kiss him. She likes him, and he’s a good man, but they’re not a match. Her father and her mother won’t hear of it, much less her long line of aunties who just want her to be taken care of. (And by that, they mean money.) John loves her, and he treats her better than any of the boys she’s been set up with. Gosh, she’d be happy here. She really, really would.

A little prayer goes a long way, so she’ll send her love to the stars and hope it all works out.

“I think it’s ready for the par bake.”

Jonathan moves to set the crust in the baking pan, and fill it with uncooked beans. It slides easily into the old oven that’s been in his home for generations, a study old thing.

“My, what ever will we do while waiting?”

“I think I have an idea,” Jonathan smirks and picks her up, but not before wiping his hands clean.

Hooking her arms across his shoulders, Martha can’t help herself. “Do you mean it, John? You really want to marry me one day?”

“I don’t make pie for just anyone, but yeah, sweet pea, you’re the love of my life. If it isn’t you, I don’t want anyone else.”

***

“This is the last time. I can’t do it anymore, John.” Her voice quivers with unshed tears and a weakness that has never been present in her heart and her soul.

The years have been hard on them, and she was too damn young when she decided that love was enough. Love carried them through the hardest seasons—through a drought when no crops would yield, and the old tree crashing into the barn after a storm. Every cent they make goes to the bills, and what little savings they can manage for the baby.

The baby that isn’t coming.

The baby that won’t ever come.

They’ve tried and tried again. Martha can buckle down and get a job in town waitressing. She can take up more hours at the local post office or help ol’ Pete, the local accountant during tax season. She’s always been good with numbers, but she’s not so good to make the dollars multiply on a whim. Together, they’ve found a way, but there isn’t a way through this .

It’s God’s will, and damn his will. She’s never cursed him before, but this is the line.

Martha slams the crust on the table, taking her anger out on it, because it isn’t anyone’s fault.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Jonathan exhales, sliding up behind her and catching her wrists. “We always said, if it’s meant to be, it will be. Maybe a baby isn’t meant for us.”

“It’s—,” she snaps, curling her fingers into the sad mix of flour, butter and water. She wasn’t paying attention, she doesn’t remember if the steps are correct. If her hands are grounded with this tasks, then maybe it’ll stop her mind from running off.

It’s too late now because the words are tumbling from her mouth before she can stop them. “It’s my fault. I can’t keep a baby.”

“Don’t you dare,” Jonathan stops her, pulling his wife into his arms. “Don’t you dare blame yourself for this.”

***

The ‘boom’ of the crash wakes her, but it’s the fire that gets her out of bed. Martha shoves her feet in her boots, and grabs the shotgun while telling her husband to get the water trailer. If they don’t stop the fire now, it’ll spread to the rest of their crops and they won’t have anything . She’s fought too damn hard for this life, and she won’t lose it now. They can argue about government conspiracies and aliens later.

She joins him in the truck, buckled in tightly while holding her weapon. Times have changed. Kids are meaner and rowdier—you never know when they’ll take their pranks too far. The gun’s just for emphasis. Martha Kent wouldn’t hurt a fly.

There isn’t anyone at the heart of the crash, but the fire comes first. Once they’ve doused their stalks of corn, Martha can focus on what on earth is going on. No, no, not Earth.

“Think it’s a satellite?”

“I thought you said you weren’t sure if the moon landing was real.”

“I stand corrected.”

Jonathan slides down the dirt into the crater. Once he’s at the bottom, Martha tosses him the shotgun just in case.

“If there’s anyone in there, come out and we won’t harm ya.”

Nothing happens for a long, long moment. Then, a loud hiss fills their ears, coming from the… the hunk of metal. It opens smoothly, despite its disgraceful landing, revealing a bright, bright light. It settles and dims just enough for them to see it—

A baby.

A tiny little thing, swaddled in a crimson blanket.

He is the last thing Martha ever expected to see; she was ready to believe in aliens. It’s just a baby .

Martha climbs down the crater, despite all of Jonathan’s protests. The circumstances are strange, but she knows in her heart and her soul that this child was meant for them.

“We could give him a good home.”

“You’re kidding me. We don’t know the first thing about raisin’ a child.” It’s been decades since they abandoned that dream. Jonathan’s got back pain thinking about it. (He knows he won’t resist the urge to pick up and toss that little boy in the air, catching him whenever he falls. His mind wants to be rational, but his mind’s made up.)

“Weren’t you the one who said it’d be as easy as pie?”

***

Martha Kent loves pie.

Inside each one, she remembers her hopes, her dreams and most importantly, her great loves.

#i was lazy to do my usual graphics #ma kent thirsty on main for pa kent #martha kent #jonathan kent #jonathan kent x martha kent #superfam #superman #clark kent #dc fanfiction #dc fanfic #dc comics #ao3 #ao3 feed #fanfiction #my fics #food

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deathsbestgirl · 1 year

Text

squeeze (5.0 with how many posts i’ve made / reblogged — probably about to be my most annoying post ever bc i can’t stand colton)

under a cut because this is the most ridiculous post i’ve written (screenshots of other posts at the end ft, @the-spooky-alien & @mellowmanatee)

first tooms watching from the sewer made me think of the grimlocks from charmed. different vibes but equal creep factor.

i really can’t stand colton, he is such an ass. like he’s with scully at a nice restaurant for lunch, trying to flirt with her (and not that she doesn’t flirt back but there’s just nothing actually there like. it just looks like bad banter & obligatory flirting) but that isn’t what gets me. he’s so jealous of one of their old classmates moving up. scully just says “good for marty” and like the literal WHINING he does. why she makes him feel better i don’t understand. then he does the dumbest thing ever

have you had any close encounters of the third kind?

is that what everyone thinks i do?

no of course not. but you do work with “spooky” mulder

mulder’s ideas may be a bit out there, but he is a great agent

like. literally she just made you feel better and you’re making her feel like shit? exposing what you think of her work & her partner. giving her a taste of what mulder deals with frequently. and idk she seems so uncomfortable talking about this, maybe because she had that impression of mulder going in but focused on the work, didn’t hold what everyone said about mulder against him…and idk, it’s just bad manners to talk badly about your partner?! like what is wrong with this man, how would this endear her toward him? legit, he’s trying to steal her from mulder and he’s just so bad at it. it only gets Worse.

AND THEN he has the audacity to ask for their help on a case right after this

this looks like an x file

let’s not get carried away. i’m going to solve these murders, but…what i would like from you is to go over the case histories. maybe come down to the crime scene.

do you want me to ask mulder?

okay if he wants to come down and do you a favor, great. but make sure he knows this is my case…dana, if i can break a case like this one, i’ll be getting my bump up the ladder, and you? maybe you won’t have to be mrs. spooky anymore

LITERALLY TRYING TO STEAL HER. and what is his real motive? i don’t get it lol and i just hate him. but i guess it’s about to bring some of my most favorite moments so there’s that.

(also the way they’re discussing gruesome murders over lunch. she’s literally looking at pictures in the middle of her meal 😭 — flash forward to jersey devil when she won’t discuss the case with her lame date over dinner lol kinda funny cuz she could handle it, but regular civilians could not)

and so of course she brings in mulder — because she knows colton actually wanted her to & because she doesn’t work a case without her partner she was explicitly assigned to work with. this conversation simultaneously makes me giggle & hurts my heart

so why didn’t they ask me?

they’re friends of mine from the academy. i’m sure they just felt more comfortable talking to me

the way she breaks eye contact when she says the last part

why would i make them so uncomfortable?

it probably has to do with your reputation.

reputation? i have a reputation?

mulder, look, colton plays by the book, and you don’t. they feel your methods, your theories, are…

spooky? do you think i’m spooky?

he really doesn’t want her to think he’s spooky. i love the way she’s honest with him but doesn’t want to hurt or insult him, and she tries to do it so kindly (scully has the BIGGEST heart in the world and i adore her)

but then of course colton walks in, and mulder is annoyed & jealous so he decides to mess with colton. i think these two men being all territorial & basically having a cock fight over her really upsets her. and she just seems conflicted. she’s embarrassed by mulder’s behavior in front of colton, part of her wants to move up, but i don’t think she’s loved colton’s behavior so far. she gives them both several chances through this ep…

mulder always gets mocked but he continuously finds important evidence that other agents would never even think to look. (and colton tells scully about his shitty theory 🙄)

mulder loves to show scully old x files & evidence. it’s sweet honestly. too bad scully is annoyed with him and took his alien comments too seriously. she can’t take his theory seriously — how could she? a 100+ yr old serial killer and this is only their third case together.

scully’s conflicting thoughts & feelings are just. so palpable. she already feels a loyalty to mulder but it’s hard to reconcile with her own beliefs & fbi procedure and it’s even harder when they’re working with other agents who ~go by the book~ (but literally scully is TOO GOOD to go by the book when it’s wrong & isn’t actually serving justice yet always does her best to keep mulder in line)

the fact that mulder “asks” her to have a separate investigation. let colton have his and they can have theirs. unclear what her decision really is, cuz it seems like she’s working both — or is it just one to her?

the profile she writes & presents to VCS is pretty damn accurate. tooms looks somewhere between 25-35, he’s got a uniform, blends in when his eyes aren’t all yellow lol

but OOF idk how she gets through it when they start taking a shot at mulder & everyone laughs. she’s too kind & professional for that kind of behavior but saying anything could hurt her working relationship with these guys (and there is still a case to solve…) and it seems to be she’s contemplating a lot. about how mulder is treated, her choices & what she wants, what kind of work environment & partnership she wants…

i love the stakeout scene. it freaks me out that she’s alone?? doesn’t seem right even if others are on site. but of course mulder shows up and she gets all snippy 😂 he’s telling her she’s wrong, she thinks she’s right. AND FINALLY. scully turns out to be right and mulder actually says it. i love him for that.

(also does tooms crawl out of a *closed* vent? does that seem right if he was trying to do his job?)

the lie detector test. more reasons to hate colton & the vcs guys. tooms seemingly passed but the two questions mulder put in, he failed. vcs bros want to let him go but scully still thinks he’s the guy, mulder agrees. but asshole vcs guy let’s him go and colton tries to make scully feel better ~it doesn’t mean your profile’s wrong~ like you’re so dumb bro. literally. that wasn’t actually why she was bothered. but that’s how he’d be feeling, ego bruised.

now it’s one of my favorite moments !!!!!!!!

tom, i want to thank you for letting me put in some time with the VCS. but i am officially assigned to the x files.

i’ll see what i can do about that.

tom, i can look out for myself.

you said mulder was out there. that guy’s insane.

like. she says that after they’re so aggressive toward mulder. i get it, he seems crazy. but he’s an fbi agent for a reason. just because you don’t like what he investigates (because y’all would be so far out of your depth and USELESS like you are with this case) doesn’t mean you should be so aggressive & disrespectful. like where is the professional decorum. it’s so fucking embarrassing.

and besides that, the vcs guys don’t listen to her. and even when mulder doesn’t agree, he listens to her. even as he’s pushing his own theory. he listens to her and they follow the evidence.

sincerely the way colton treats her like a damsel is ridiculous. drives me crazy.

AND THEN THE SCENE. scully starts out frustrated but mulder is mulder

you knew they wouldn’t believe you. why did you push it?

maybe i thought you caught the right guy… and maybe i run into so many people who are hostile just because they can’t open their minds to the possibilities that sometimes the need to mess with their heads outweighs the millstone of humiliation.

it seems like you were acting very territorial. i don’t know, forget it.

of course i was. [fingers get necklace & she looks down at his hand] in our investigations, you may not always agree with me, but at least you respect the journey. and if you want to continue working with them, i won’t hold it against you. [he walks away & she’s contemplating everything that just happened]

no-oh. i don’t know. you must have something more than your polygraph interpretation to back up this bizarre theory and i have to see what that is.

LITERALLY I WANT TO DIE. first he tells her that he thinks she caught the right guy *and* is honest about why he’s behaved the way he did. and then he validates her even more admitting he was being territorial. he focuses on the work because at this point, their relationship is professional (and it’s definite it comfort zone after being vulnerable). but he gives away so much more when he reaches for her necklace. that was a different kind of territorial. that was FLIRTY. it’s truly just the way he didn’t let her doubt that he was being territorial. yes, it was because of the way they treat him. and because he believes she’s right & respects her work. but it was also him being jealous & territorial. THIS IS THE THIRD EPISODE.

and then !! he gives her an out. mulder really wouldn’t blame her if she wanted to work with them, leave the x files, get away from him. and this is when she makes the choice. she follows him, asserts her loyalty under the guise of curiosity. he’s shown her so much honest respect. he’s validated her. he listened to her. it’s what they do for each other.

and so mulder shows her the fingerprints (the computer work is wild to me, he’s just pressing keys and shit happens — i know that’s a thing but i never learned that stuff lol)

i love scully’s stunned face. and the way she never believes his theories & ideas yet she always turns to him for answers, like he should have them all & know everything.

just a thought about tooms — how does he choose his victims? like we see him stalk them. but. why them? i would assume he wants healthy lovers to sustain him during his hibernation but how does he know?

(this feels like the first time we really see what a great team they make. this case has been impossible to crack, with no evidence until they came on the scene. they gathered the evidence, followed the evidence, creating profiles, set up stakeouts, found tooms, connected the past cases — with more to come. all the while being disregarded & shown contempt.)

and this scene lollll colton is freaking out at the latest crime scene, yelling at everyone when scully & mulder show up and of course, he tries to stop them.

look at this point i’m willing to give any theory a shot…any sane theory

what’s the matter colton? afraid i’m gonna solve your case? [he grabs mulder ?!]

tom, we have authorized access to this crime scene. a report of you obstructing another agents investigation might stick out on your personnel file.

look dana, whose side are you on?

the victim’s.

all of this was delicious.

one of the things that gets me about colton is how much he cares about moving up & looking good — not so much about getting the case solved. he’s so desperate. and i think scully thinks she wants to move up until she witnesses his behavior. because scully genuinely cares about justice, putting away murderers, solving the crime, finding the truth — and she isn’t going to prioritize herself / her career over that. she’ll do what it takes even if that means not getting full credit or any credit at all. yeah, she wants that approval & validation, but there are other ways to get that. i think this is the case where she really makes that choice. working with someone who values her work, mind & companionship — and who genuinely shows her care & respect — will win out over moving up. *especially* if it means shitting on someone & interferes with solving the case.

ALSO i love how she has no problem using what she knows about colton to defend mulder & stake their rights on the case. colton is fucking flabbergasted & livid. and wholly inadequate to solve this one. he can’t even say anything else because he would just further embarrass himself.

(theres such a *sound* to 90s shows & the way they speak !! something about scully specifically reminds me of charmed. (of course this was first but charmed was my pre teen obsession so it always goes back to that lol) and i just LOVE IT. maybe it’s specific to supernatural shows, idk. and i have no idea how to describe/explain it.)

anyway. this is when mulder finds another of toms’s fingerprints & that he took a keepsake. something VCS hasn’t seemed to pick up on at all? (embarrassinggggg) and so they continue *their investigation* find out what they can about tooms — fake address, hasn’t been to work since he was arrested. they bounce some theories back — scully thinks it could be different generations. parents raising the kid, passing on the sociopathic behavior. but mulder doesn’t think that can explain the fingerprints. the way they always ask what the other thinks really gets me. it’s precious.

(and the way mulder couldn’t figure out 30 years from 1993 is hilarious. scully didn’t even have to think about it. he ought have an eidetic memory but scully is the true genius & nerd here. AND his “and you’re gonna be head of the bureau by then” line is my favorite. he thinks so much of her. he knows she could play the game to move up if she wanted to. and she really is that good and only gets better the longer they work together. FEELINGS.)

so he goes through birth certificates, marriage certificates & death certificates for gods know how long and can’t find anything for tooms. but scully finds the original investigator

“i’ve been waiting 25 years for you” he never let go of the case. never solved it. but he knew it was tooms, kept all the evidence. official & unofficial — including a picture of tooms looking exactly the same from 30 years ago & the same address they have on file — and gladly hands it right over to them. (idk how i feel about his comparison but his line ‘these horrible human acts gave birth to a human…monster’ is really something)

frank whatever-his-name-is was fully aware tooms took the livers *and* a personal belonging of the victims. crazy what you could learn from properly connecting cases !!! because even if scully is right & it’s generational, it would be logical to think they’d follow the same patterns. and if mulder’s right, it’s the same guy following the same patterns lmao

this scene always cracks me up too. find a creepy hole in the wall and just head right in. crazy people. they find the trophies & a ~nest~

oh my god mulder. it smells like…i think it’s bile.

is there any way i can get it off my fingers quickly without betraying my cool exterior?

hilarious.

no one could live in thus.

i don’t think this is where he lives. i think it’s where he hibernates.

scully thinks it’s crazy but they decide to stake it out. cuz clearly tooms has been here & will return. little do they know he’s there right now and he takes scully’s necklace 😩 taking his trophy before he even gets the liver. marking her.

another damn instance of agents being dickheads to mulder. calling him spooky to his face, laughing at him. yet he just walks away. flash to colton confronting scully & being the biggest ass yet again. i love the way she wants to avoid the conversation “i have to meet mulder”

she’s finally lost all respect for him.

is this what it takes to climb the ladder, colton?

all the way to the top.

then i can’t wait til you fall off and land on your ass.

literally scully switching from tom to colton here is such a move. (he never called her agent scully, not even dr. scully. always dana despite this being a professional setting. he never actually showed her respect or courtesy. he was using her & trying to make it appealing to her. too bad he fucked up so badly.) and it’s so funny — what is a sign of respect, professionalism and eventually camaraderie & intimacy (of course also a way to keep some healthy distance in their partnership lol) with mulder is a demotion for colton. he lost the privilege of knowing her personally.

so, she lets colton makes the call, heads home & calls mulder. she so wanted to commiserate with him, but he doesn’t answer either (cuz he went to the stakeout 😩)

mulder, you must have gone out since colton has given us the night off. i say we file a complaint against him. i am furious. give me a call when you get in. okay. bye.

why is this SO ADORABLE?! like. yes they’re partners, they need to talk about this. but it’s so damn sweet the way she says all of this to him?!

and tooms is already at her places as mulder discovers her necklace among his trophies — which he obviously recognizes immediately and he speeds off to scully’s. cuz he knows where she lives. and he breaks down her door for the first time…

scully already got her warning though. the nasty bile so she’s able to go for her gun, but tooms still manages to surprise her gdi. and mulder is just in time to watch her escape him, stop him from escaping & cuff him to her bath tub. AMAZING. mulder was terrified for her but now he’s just in awe of scully. my favorite mulder.

{EDIT: also they really should report colton because he purposely interferes with their investigation — they had just cause for the stakeout. they literally found the trophies from the victims, going back to 1933 & 1903 and the current victims and his freaky nest. in no way was it an irresponsible use of man-hours. and i hope it destroys his career when scully is attacked & she catches tooms.}

cut to frank keeping a clipping of the newspaper article saying tooms was caught — cut again to tooms making another nest & mulder watching him, waiting for scully.

i guess there was a lot in this episode but i’m so glad they *finally* acknowledge she’s a doctor. (she ordered tests, many abnormalities yada yada) like why didn’t she have anything to do with the autopsies? bet she would have found ~something~ they missed. like mulder found the the fingerprints & realized he took trophies.

the way he’s contemplating that the general population has no idea there’s something else to be afraid of & protect themselves from. fancy alarm systems won’t save them from tooms. “it again enough” and scully SO SWEETLY touches his arm, slides her hand down to his bicep & squeezes until he turns to leave with her — she’s so touchy too !!! how many touches did i not notice in this season? like idk man. the comfort she wants to give him. she doesn’t use words, saying they caught him. no. she uses touch. a small one but it feels like a big deal to me. i can’t remember her touching him after getting him back in the second episode, or any time during. besides the handshake & the hug in the pilot, he was always the one to put his hand on her back or arm.

anyway. tooms is already plotting his escape & his next victims…can’t wait to watch tooms. more great moments to come there 😍

#txf txt #mulder and scully #dana scully #fox mulder #the x files #squeeze #tooms

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