#cut because Long (1300 words long)

[fatalism-and-villainy]

I think a lot about Chiyoh’s arc, and how it aligns with the broader topics season 3 is touching on wrt justice, prisons, and moral responsibility.

Because what’s so striking to me is how unapologetically ruthless she is in her handling of the prisoner, in a way that even Will calls her on:

Chiyoh: He wants you to look at him, speak to him. But you’re not going to. Will: You’ve cast aside the social graces normally afforded to human beings. Chiyoh: He’s cast them aside. All he’s allowed is the sound of water. It’s what the unborn hear. It’s their last memory of peace. Will: You’re keeping him like an animal. Chiyoh: I wouldn’t do this to an animal.

The kind of solitary confinement she subjects him to is, effectively, torture. And yet she feels so strongly about murder! Her self-defense murder of the prisoner and its immediate aftermath marks the only time when she’s truly emotionally rattled, and everything about the situation suggests that not killing is a very stringent moral standard she’s held herself to. And no matter how wearying the prolonged imprisonment is to her, it’s not one that she has a moral objection to - she believes it’s justified by the severity of the prisoner’s crimes. (It’s questionable whether she considers her treatment of the prisoner to be violence, but if she did, she’d certainly term it “necessary violence”.)

(There is something similar to consider about the random mooks she shoots to ensure Hannibal and Will’s escape in Digestivo - is this “necessary” violence to her? Apparently, but if so, she considers protecting the man she considers to be family something for which it is worth taking lives. And the fact that those murders are far-off sniper shots suggests that perhaps she is averse to violence when it’s up-close, personal, and bloody, but is still willing to enact it when she can distance herself somewhat from its effects.)

All of that is to say - I am convinced that Chiyoh’s insistence that she only commits violence when it’s necessary, and her repeated disavowal that she is anything like Will, despite having actively undertaken vigilante justice, is pretty hypocritical on her part! I don’t say that to demonize her - the jumble of contradictory ethical principles is one of the aspects of her that I find fascinating to crack open despite her limited screen time, and Will himself by season 3 (and almost certainly post-canon) is also pretty capable of hypocrisy. And of course she’s not entirely like Will. She doesn’t seem to take much righteous satisfaction or sadistic pleasure in her handling of the prisoner - her line that “we have been each others’ prisoner” suggests that the situation wears on her just as much as him. But it is pretty clear to me that there are truths about herself, and her capacity for violence, that she is pointedly refusing to acknowledge, and that she’s clinging to some pretty narrowly defined moral principles so as to preserve her self-concept.

And I think the question that that arc involving Chiyoh invites us to ask - whether the bare life conditions she subjected her prisoner to really were all that morally superior to murder - constitutes one potential thread between 3A and 3B. Because what it brings to mind for me is Hannibal’s line to Alana in WOTL: “Any rational society would either kill me, or give me my books.”

And like many of Hannibal’s statements… it makes a twisted kind of sense.

To be clear, I absolutely do not think NBC Hannibal is trying to articulate a thematic statement against carceral justice - it’s too apolitical a show to bear that kind of weight. (And it’s certainly not interested in rehabilitation, either). But it is a show that is very interested in how our moral beliefs as well as our darker urges and fascinations define our selfhood, and the kind of moral doublethink we all engage in. And that kind of thematic backdrop does appropriately pair with the show’s general slant towards murder as not even necessarily more ethical than imprisonment, but more honest. As something that constitutes truly owning our moral judgments, feeling for ourselves the full weight and impact of delivering them.

Alana being the recipient of that line from Hannibal - and her overall role as his jailor - also has a certain kind of irony, given that she herself has to learn this lesson in 3A. She and Margot, as per their dialogue in Dolce, intend to have Mason arrested. But when that plan goes awry and they can’t rely on FBI intervention, Alana ends up having to pay the price of getting involved with Mason by getting her hands dirty. Notably, in the cases of both Alana and Chiyoh, Will has a hand in pushing them both towards murder (and in the case of Alana, Hannibal also plays a role in that - an interesting example of the aligned-but-divergent ways Will and Hannibal might exert influence on others post-canon). The situations are somewhat different in that Chiyoh has shouldered more personal responsibility in taking on the role as jailor, rather than ceding that authority to institutional higher powers. But her situation does still overlap significantly with Alana helping Margot murder Mason, in that the result Will engineers from her feels geared to force her to face what she’s taken on, to get up close and personal and really see.

(And of course, both murders bring some sort of freedom or moral catharsis, along with an intense self-recognition that can’t be found through the complacency of more socially acceptable forms of justice.)

Furthermore, in 3B, Will himself is engaged in a similar kind of thought process. In his conversation with Walter, he’s pretty firm on not killing Dolarhyde, and sending him to a mental hospital instead. And given Will’s arc at this point in the show, it’s pretty intuitive that this intention is a product of Will not wanting to be the kind of person who kills - an intention that is arguably also present for both Alana and Chiyoh. All three do have genuine ethical objections to murder as well, of course - I can pretty easily formulate all of them feeling that fewer people dying is an optimal outcome. But their personal conceptions of themselves are certainly also a factor in their disavowal of murder.

But the culmination of the Red Dragon arc, in which Will and Hannibal jointly kill Dolarhyde, is clearly much more preferable end for Dolarhyde. The way it’s cinematically rendered, with the blood fanning out in the shape of wings, suggests that murder constituted his ultimate transformation, in which his true sense of himself was fully realized. Although defeated, undergoing change to fuel our main characters’ radiance is a much more poetically resonant and satisfying ending, and it’s hard to imagine any other way he’d rather lose. Aesthetics > ethics.

Of course, in real life, I don’t believe that killing people - even genuinely bad people who’ve caused serious harm - is a remotely acceptable ethical solution. But within the world of Hannibal, a world in which the killers conceive of themselves in terms of artistic vision, for whom psychiatric language and its corrective purpose is nowhere near sufficient - by the internal moral logic of that universe, murder is often more merciful, and displays much more genuine understanding and empathy.

All of this is to say, I think Chiyoh’s arc can be figured within these broader themes in season 3. And the lesson she learned from Hannibal - and by extension, Will - from her intervention with justice is much the same as the lesson that Bedelia learned from Hannibal: that observing and participating are the same. Taking on the responsibility of enacting justice, in the world of Hannibal, requires becoming the executioner.

#hannibal meta #chiyoh #alana bloom #will graham #cut because Long (1300 words long) #hannibal #hannibal season 3 #hannibal talk #my meta #queue

[itscherrylipsforme]

Paper cuts and cheek kisses: Minho tmr x Med jack!fem!reader

Summary: Minho was never one to go the med jacks' cabin often. On the contrary actually, you had to drag him into it whenever he got hurt in order to patch him up. Oh girl, but things changed when you two started dating, and now he comes up with the silliest excuses just to see your face. At least being his fave med jack means some special treatment

Warnings: None, except that Minho is madly in love and reader is slightly sarcastic (got it from her mother, aka me)

Requested: yes

Words: Around 1300

Author's rambles: As someone who had the biggest crush on Minho growing up (Who I want to fool with this? I still do) and who imagined her role in the Maze would be med jack this request was so cute to write. Hope you like it!

Masterlist Characters I write for

Likes and reblogs are appreciated ღ

I do not authorize any of my works to be copied, translated or plagiarized ✗

Everyone needed to prove their worth in the maze, from the youngest and oldest boys to you, the only girl. And being honest, your passed that test with excellent marks. Living in a place full of the most stubborn and reckless shanks you have ever known (not that you remembered meeting anyone before them, but that was not the point) proving that you were strong enough wasn’t a choice, but a need. However, most of them shown them a new kind of strength they hadn’t seem until then. The strength you used to calm Chuck down when he was crying during his first night in the glazeThe strength which was necessary to always be the one who introduced first to new greenies, to do it with a sincere smile as saying “Yeah, this place is a clunk, but it’s our clunk. Our place”. The same one that helped you become a med-jack.

You loved your role, somehow you were really good at it as the girl you were before being trapped there had some knowledge about it. But you would be lying if you said it didn’t have its downsides, one of them being… Well, him.

“Minho, slinthead, go to the med-jack's cabin right now. That cut doesn’t look good” you demanded as soon as you saw him on the gardens talking with Newt after he came back from the maze.

“Nice to see you too, princess” That condescending pet names he used on you, you swear one day your eyes would fall from your face just because of the times you had rolled them. Since your first day you had to deal with his teasing (not flirting, as you had corrected Newt when he asked about it once) “And don’t worry, Clint and Jeff already saw it and told me it was fine as long as I cleaned today in the shower”

“Clint and Jeff only let you get away with no treating any of your wound properly because they are scared you will fight them if they said otherwise” You crossed your arms “Unfortunately for you, you don’t have the same effect on me. To the cabin, now. I will be the one who binds it”

“You are lucky I can’t say no to you, darling” He started following you towards the med-jack’s, not without smiling sheepishly first.

Sitting in the hammock, Minho looked at your face as you gently rubbed a cotton soaked in iodine. So focused on your work and yet so beautiful, he thought to himself. He was enjoying the view, but your words snapped him from his thoughts.

“Can I ask why the hell you never want us to see your injuries?”

“Pretty girl, you are smart, way more than me, but you don’t get me. It’s not that I don’t want you to do your job, I have my reasons for it” He smirked, if he wasn’t so stupid sometimes you would admit he looked handsome right now.

“Please, enlighten me” You turned around to look for the necessary equipment to patch him up.

“Do you know that before you arrived, I never protested when it came to the med-jacks? That Clint or Jeff would treat me, and I wouldn’t utter a word?”

“If that is your way of saying that I am bad at my job, you should be more careful. Do I have to remind you that I am the one here who has a scalpel nearby?”

You were so done with his shit, if you remembered right there was a phrase that said something like “Don’t bite the hand that feeds you” and same way he shouldn’t annoy the person who was responsible for his health. The scalpel thing was a joke, more or less, but you were starting to rethink it.

“Not really darling” He chuckled, and you found yourself liking the sound of it “Maybe I just convinced Clint and Jeff to wait to heal this because I knew you wouldn’t want me to be injured. So, you would take me then and I would get to spend some time with my favourite med-jack”

“You are unbearable” And you were completely sure you mean what you said, but you couldn’t bring yourself not to smile at his silly plan “Please, tell me you didn’t get the cut just to see me” You asked while wrapping his strong (Were you thinking about that right now? Really?) arm with the bandage.

“You shouldn’t think too low of me, y/n” He shook his head “The injury was an accident, Newt came up with the plan when he saw it on the Garden”

“I knew that you couldn’t come up with all of that on your own” You smirked and stared at him. Had his eyes always been that deep or was the light that passed through the windows what made them look like that? “By the way, the patch up is done, just be sure you don’t drench it and come her to change it every two days until it scars. I would also recommend that you take a day off running, but you would ignore me anyway, and I won’t waste my saliva”

“You look really good when you are mad at someone, has anyone ever told you that?” He blurted out, not even thinking it twice, and he was surprised when instead of telling him to fuck off you blushed. Neither of you had expected it. You needed a few seconds to recover your mind and your ability to speak.

“Whatever, you can go now” You hadn’t realized how close you had been to him until then “Come on, what are you expecting? A good job sticker or something?”

“I have a better plan in mind” Another smirk, his hands guiding yours to rest on his shoulders, his comfortably around your waist. His face coming closer to yours, threatening to close the gasp… Woah, you had to admit that this bastard was handsome. And finally, his lips on yours. Slightly nervous at first, as he was afraid you would pull away at any given moment. Then sweet turning more and more passionate by seconds.

News always flied in the glaze, you two being “a thing” now was not. an exception. By the time the next bonfire arrived, no one, not even the greenie, wasn’t aware of it. Newt was glad, Minho had been rambling about you way too long and he couldn’t stand it anymore. Alby was a little bit angry, his rules had been broken again after all, but that was something you could deal with later. Minho was over the moon. You finally assumed that the line between annoyance and love is really thin. But there were two people who weren’t so happy about it…

“Here he comes again” Clint claimed as he saw a familiar tall and dark-haired boy entering the cabin.

“What happened this time?” Jeff asked as he placed some liquids on the shelves “Did he touch some poison ivy? Or did he catch a cold?” Being honest, they were growing tired of your Minho coming over with some stupid excuse to see you.

“A paper cut thanks to the map’s room, actually” He answered as he came closer to the desk where you were writing down the inventory before the next box arrived. “Afternoon, princess”

“Afternoon you too, my lovely clumsy bastard” You joked, placing a soft kiss on his lips

“Y/n, we will be running off band-aids if you keep putting one on your boyfriend every time he wants to see you” Clint protested as Jeff faked to be throwing up because of your small gestures of affection.

“Fine, a get-well kiss will be enough I guess” Minho accepted, and you wasted no time and kissed his cheek.

The rest of the med-jacks were more than annoyed with him, but he didn’t seem to care. After all, you were his favorite med-jack, the only one whose opinion mattered to him.

#minho tmr x reader #miho x reader #the maze runner #minho x y/n #minho tmr x y/n

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Hiiii, wondering if we can get a Tom Bennett one shot of him sneaking into my room and taking my body down to pound down while my parents who hate him are next door sleeping

Warnings: Smut. Word count: ~1300

She settles beneath the duvet, her body relaxing into the softness of the mattress and pillows when she hears it.

Tap.

Her eyes flit to the window where the sound has come from, but after a few seconds pass in silence she rolls over, closing her eyes and preparing to sleep.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The light dinging against the glass pane is unmistakable. She huffs, throwing back the covers and climbing out of bed. She cannot help the smile that tugs at her lips at the sight in the street below.

Tom Bennett.

He stands on the pavement, head tilted up towards her bedroom, a lit cigarette perched between his lips.

She lifts the window from the bottom by its wooden frame, pushing it upwards to open it. Her heart is hammering so wildly in her chest that she is certain Tom must be able to hear it from where he’s stood.

His forefingers pull the cigarette from his mouth as he exhales billowing smoke, his trademark smirk lighting up his handsome features. “Finally. Was running out of stones to throw.” He teases. “Thought you were gonna leave me to stand out here all night like a drip.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’ll have to put that out before you come up.” She says. “And be quiet.”

He nods, throwing the butt towards the ground and crushing it underfoot, before he begins his ascent up the drainpipe of the small terraced house. He climbs in through the window, sliding it closed behind him and turning to face her.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” He states quietly, eyes roving up and down her nightdress clad figure.

She fidgets awkwardly with the hem, avoiding his gaze. “I haven’t, Tommy, it’s just…”

“Your Mum and Dad are on to us, aren’t they?”

She sighs, finally looking up at him. “Dad’s been asking questions, wants to know where I keep going. Mum smells your fag smoke on my clothes when she does the washing.”

He nods, mischief sparkling in his blue eyes. “We’ll just have to be more careful then.”

She bites back a laugh. “I hardly think you climbing into my bedroom window is being careful, Tom.”

“Needed to see ya, didn’t I? Been thinking about my best girl.”

“Mum and Dad are asleep next door, they’ll hear- oh!”

Her sentence is cut off as Tom captures her lips with his own in a heated kiss. His hand slips beneath her nightdress to palm at her cotton covered centre.

“I can feel you soaking through your knickers already and I’ve hardly touched you.” He grins, as they break the kiss. “Lay on the bed for me.”

She wants to protest, knows she should tell him to leave, because they’ll get caught. However, the power that he has over her is simply too great, she can’t deny him anything. Her actions are led by the throbbing ache in her core, and so she lays back just as he’s instructed.

Tom shrugs out of his jacket, then makes quick work of tugging her nightdress over head and dragging her underwear down her legs. He grabs her knees, prying her legs apart, drawing in a shuddering breath as he takes in the sight of the slick between them.

This is too risky. She is breathing too heavily. Christ, when did she start breathing so loudly?! Her parents are surely going to hear them, and yet she can’t find it in herself to stop him, especially not when she hears the metallic clink of his belt opening.

“Not gonna be all soft and gentle how I know you like it normally.” He whispers, as he leans over her, caging her in with his forearms. He hasn’t even bothered to undress fully, just unfastened his belt and pulled his trousers down enough to free his cock. “You’ve made me wait too long, darlin’.”

She gasps as she feels the head of him tease through her folds, her hands fisting the sheets in anticipation of what’s to come next.

“Shhh.” He coos. “Don’t want mummy and daddy to catch their little girl copping the shagging of her life, do we?”

She clamps her hand over her mouth to stifle her mewl as he pushes inside. He is met with resistance, he always is, no matter how much he prepares her, every time feels like she’s being split open.

“So fuckin’ tight.” He grits out into the crook of her neck, barely giving her a chance to adjust before he begins pistoning his hips against hers.

The motion is making the metal frame of her bed squeak loudly. She doesn’t want him to stop, not ever, yet she knows the sound will awaken her parents - the walls in their little council house are paper thin.

“T-Tommy.” She stammers into his ear. “You’ve gotta slow down, or you’ll wake them up.”

“I’ve got a better idea.” He murmurs, lifting her up.

He staggers slightly, his trousers falling around his ankles, and they both giggle before shushing each other, as he walks her back towards the wall beside the window, pressing her against it.

Instinctively, she wraps her legs around his waist and he resumes his brutal thrusting into her, the renewed angle causing her toes to curl with every brush against the spongy spot deep inside of her.

She drapes her arms around his neck, muffling her soft moans and whimpers into his shoulder. With every strike of his hips she feels herself being nudged closer to the edge, his hot pants against her ear spurring her on.

“I’m close…” She whines.

“I know, darlin’.” He breathes out. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

She nods fervently. “Tommy, please!” She is unsure of what she is even begging for, she just knows she doesn’t want him to stop, the coil in her lower belly has grown painfully tight.

“You can come if you wanna, know you can’t help it.” He says, his voice low, yet the smugness is unmistakable.

She hates him for that, hates that he knows exactly what he does to her, hates that he is right. The coil finally snaps and she tightens and spasms around him, slapping her hand over mouth to force back the cry of his name that escapes her lips.

Mere moments later, he is pulling out, aiming white hot ropes of sticky spend across her thighs and belly as he releases with a muffled grunt.

He lowers her slowly to the floor, keeping an arm wrapped around her waist to support her shaky legs. He strokes her hair, peppering gentle kisses across her cheeks until their breathing slows.

She watches as he moves away to grab her discarded nightdress and underwear. He hands her the nightie, and as she pulls it back over her head she feels him using her knickers to wipe at the mess he’s made of her. She smiles at the softness of the gesture, a stark contrast to how roughly he has just taken her.

He pulls his trousers back up, fastening his belt and then slipping his jacket back on. Her heart twinges at the thought of letting him go. She wishes he could stay the night, but her dad wakes up so early to do the milk rounds that there’s no way they wouldn’t get caught.

Her eyes widen as she sees him slipping her used underwear into his jacket pocket.

“Tommy!” She hisses. “Mum is gonna start wondering where all my knickers are going!”

He grins wolfishly. “She counting them now, is she?”

Her cheeks burn with shame, though she cannot hide her smile. “It’s not the first pair you’ve taken.”

“Won’t be the last either.” He says with a wink, as he opens the window and climbs back out.

#tom bennett #tom bennett smut #tom bennett x reader #world on fire #tom bennett world on fire #world on fire tom bennett #world on fire smut #tom bennett fanfic #tom bennett fan fiction #tom bennett fan fic #tom bennett fanfiction #world on fire fanfic #world on fire fan fic #world on fire fanfiction #world on fire fan fiction #ewan mitchell

[chateaumarmontt]

Hey

I wrote an Everlark fanfiction. Peeta sees Gale and Katniss kissing. Katniss’ POV

Word count: 1300

English is not my first language, sorry if there are any mistakes<3

It was about 7 pm when Gale visited me. We didn't really talk after he found out about the engagement.

"Hi", he said, walking in my room. I was surprised to see him.

"Hi", I smile back, hoping he'd get over whatever it is between us so we can go on and be friends, "How's work?"

"Good. How's your leg?"

"Terrible. Mom doesn't even let me move, it gets boring sometimes."

"That sounds bad. And what do you do all day?"

I try not to mention that Peeta's coming by everyday to help me with the family book. I don't want to hurt Gale's feelings, since he'd interpret it as something more. Is it something more? I definitely seem to always end up with the boy with the bread, one way or another, but I'm not sure he even likes me anymore.

"Not much", I say and then there's silence.

"Katniss...", his tone gives me anxiety; i know he's about to bring something awkward up and I don't know how to deal with it, "I love you."

My eyes widen. We never really talked about this, but I assumed he had a crush on me. That's it. A crush. Not that he loves me.

"You don't have to answer now, but...", and then he kisses me. I pull back in shock.

"I had to do it once. Hello, Peeta", Gale smirks and I notice the blonde boy sitting in the doorway. I immediately panic. Did he see us kissing? I've been a bitch to him until I realized how I felt about our engagement. Truth is, I loved being able to call him my fiancé. Peeta was popular before, but after the Games, every girl was head over heels, I'd hear them talk about his muscles, his pretty smile. But no one had the chance to kiss his pink lips or to observe his long eyelashes. He was mine, in a way.

"Hi", he greets back, obviously a little sad. Did Gale do that on purpose? "I can come back later if..."

"No, Peeta, stay", I interrupt him. I don't want him to leave here upset. As his figure approaches my bed, I grab his hand. I don't even realize I do until he looks down at it and carefully slides his hand away.

"You don't have to do that. We're not really engaged."

This makes my heart break. I didn't really realize it till now, I thought this meant something for him as well.

"Oh.."

After talking for a while, he tells me his father needs help at the bakery. I put on a fake smile and wish him luck, but I can't sleep that night. Or the other day when he doesn't visit me. He used to come by everyday. I can't keep going on like this. Instead, Gale visits me.

"Did you do that on purpose", I cut him short, not even saying hi.

"What?"

"The kiss. So that Peeta can see it."

I don't have time to play his games, I don't want other people to get hurt because Gale is selfish. Peeta would've never done that to him, even if they hate each other.

"You told me there's nothing going on between you two, Katniss. I-"

"I lied", I say before I can stop myself.

Gale looks hurt. Maybe he's done a shitty thing, but I know he cares about me. In fact, he loves me.

"Look, you're the only person I trust besides mom and Prim”- and Peeta, I add in my head, but choose to omit the detail-“You're my best friend and you're really good looking, you have to know that, girls are always talking about it"

Gale smiles so I take it as a clue to continue:

"But I can't see you that way, Gale. I'm sorry."

"It's alright. I don't really have a say in it, do I?”He sighs before adding: “I'm sorry for what I did, Katniss.”

“So… friends”, I ask awkwardly and Gale nodds.

I can see him struggling with the conclusion, but I know our friendship can get past this, right?

________________________________

It's been 3 days since I last saw Peeta. He still brings me cheese buns, but never comes to my room. Prim told me he always asks mom how I'm feeling. I decide to go to the bakery, even though my foot is far from well. I can manage, I'll just get a cane.

I wait for mom to leave for work. After what seems like forever, I finally hear the door close.

I literally crawl down the stairs. The cane is downstairs and there's no way I could step on my foot. Finally, I reach it, but I can’t get up. I didn’t really think this through…

"Katniss? What are you doing", I turn around to see Prim, confused.

"I'm fine, Prim. A little help?"

She helps me get up and now I'm using the cane to get to the door.

"Where are you going? Does mom know-"

"I have to see Peeta", I sigh and she smiles, putting her hands on her hips.

“Will you finally confess your true love for him”

I just roll my eyes, but I can feel my cheeks getting flushed:

"Don't tell mom! I'll be right back."

"If you're not back in two hours, I'm coming after you."

"Give me three? I have to use a cane!"

Prim giggles, murmuring a "fine" and I walk out the door.

The road is not easy and as expected, it took me almost an hour. I'm nervous when I knock on the back door and I'm greeted by Rye, one of Peeta's older brothers.

He rolls his eyes, yelling:

"Peeta, your wife is here."

"Very funny", I hear another voice screaming back. Peeta's.

"I'm serious, loser.”

I blush at the word wife. 10 seconds later, I see Peeta. His eyes widen:

"Katniss? What are you doing here? Did you come all this way by yourself? You're supposed to be resting! Why-"

"Shut up", I interrupt him, "Peeta, we have to talk."

Before he can say something, I continue: "What you saw 3 days ago... Gale and-" I swallow hard, looking at the frown on his face "yeah... he did that on purpose. So that you'd think we were together. But we're not, I clarified. I told him he's my best friend and that I could never see him any other way."

"That's nice, Katniss, but it's not really my business", Peeta replies coldly. It's not his usual warm, cozy tone that I love and I know what I said isn't enough. “Let’s get you home, alright”, I could see the worry in his blue eyes and it made my heart melt. The way he was still worried about me, after I led him on, hurt his feelings… no, we’ll talk about this now.

"If it wasn't your business, why did you stop visiting me?"

"I'm sorry, my dad needed help-"

"Bullshit."

"So why do you think I stopped visiting you, then", he asks, visibly irritated.

"Because you don't want me to be with anybody else. You want me to be yours", I snap back and Peeta blushes lightly. I know I've never really let him speak during this conversation and this time isn’t any different. I kiss him, cutting off whatever lie he'd come up with and for a moment everything felt fine. One of his hand plays with my hair, while the other one was pressed against my waist, closing the distance between our bodies. I knew he wanted me just as much as I wanted him.

We have to stop in order to breathe a little, foreheads still pressed against each other.

"Katniss..."

"Mhm?"

"I really hated seeing you with Gale."

"I know. I hated him kissing me", I scoff and Peeta smiles.

After a while, we break off, Peeta’s hand still holding me so I don’t fall. I forgot about my leg.

"I should go. If i'm not home in an hour, Prim will tell mom"

"There's no way I'm letting you walk", he says and picks me up, bridal style.

"You can't be serious", I laugh.

"Watch me."

#everlark #fanfiction #katniss and peeta #the hunger games katniss #thg katniss #peeta mellark #the hunger games peeta #team peeta #everlark fanfiction #i love peeta #primrose everdeen

[ot7stan4life]

“I Want You” (Dami ver.)

Dami (Dreamcatcher) x Female Reader

Word Count: 1300

Summary: After you’re forced to watch for half an hour on the sidelines as Dami’s photographed in her Calvin Klein sports bra and denim jacket, you can’t help but take out your sexual frustrations on her when you’re finally alone… even if that means interrupting her vlive.

Warnings: (implied) sexual content

You knew Dami was in your shared room doing a voice vlive and you knew you definitely shouldn't bother her until she was done, but the sight of her in a tiny cropped denim jacket and matching jeans left unbuttoned for the photoshoot showing off her Calvin Klein bra and boxers and her smooth, tan stomach made you lose sight of all rationality and walk into your room anyways.

She was talking to the fans about something (and you were too distracted by the fake tattoo on her hip to be bothered by what that something was), barely noticing or minding your presence. Had she known the thoughts running through your mind after an entire day of seeing her in that outfit, she probably would've shooed you away immediately, fearing the things you might do or say to her while the fans could hear.

But, she couldn't possibly know any of this as you got in bed and slid in between her and the wall, an innocent expression on your face disguising your true intentions. She simply sent you a curious glance, her attention still mostly on her phone as she scrolled through the live chat. You leaned onto your elbow and held your head up with your hand while you watched her fingers flexing as she flicked them across the screen. Just the simple action sent your mind wandering to past memories of late nights shared between you and her and a heat started rushing through your body.

When she brought the phone closer to her face to read something out loud, you watched her lips move, licking your own at the thought of what they tasted like. She shifted her jaw in thought, moving your gaze to her jawline and down her neck. At her movements, the muscles there tightened and relaxed, making you subconsciously swallow. You couldn't explain what it was, but something about her neck was so attractive and only worsened the burning in the pit of your stomach.

Dami must've noticed you staring, her eyes meeting yours with a curious expression. She raised her eyebrows, a hint of amusement on her lips. Well... until she finally recognized the look in your eyes. In that moment you scooted close enough so that your sides were touching and your faces were mere inches apart. You bit your lip and glanced at hers before sliding your hand down her body and placing it on her warm, bare stomach. The feeling of her soft skin was addicting and your fingers slowly moved lower until they met the waistband of her boxers.

You could tell your actions caught her off guard because her eyebrows raised slightly and she had to clench her jaw to stop herself from gasping. Although Dami wasn't one to give her feelings away easily, her tinted cheeks exposed just how much you were affecting her. Without sparing a second, you closed the distance to kiss her... except your lips never met, her hand shooting up to grip your neck. The panicked look in her eyes told you that she had done it in fear that the fans would hear, but her hand placement didn't have quite the effect she wanted it to.

"Yub-" you started to whine in protest but, with one hand preoccupied with her phone and the other loosely clutching your neck, she had no choice but to cut off your voice with her lips. Finally, you sunk into her mouth, showing her how much you’d wanted her all day with just one kiss. You kept her bottom lip between yours, prolonging the kiss for as long as possible. She let out a staggered exhale against your cheek through her nose and followed you as you pulled back slowly. It may have just been so that your lips didn't make a sound with their release, but the way she didn't seem too concerned about the voice live at that moment convinced you that she did it because she didn't actually want you to pull away.

Either way, when it ended, she still gently pushed you off of her, making sure to lightly remove your hand from her waist before looking back at her phone and quickly reading a comment in hopes that the fans weren't suspicious of the long silence and, more importantly, that they didn't hear any of what just went down between you two. Dami usually scolded you for your unprofessional behavior, but it was obvious that she was never actually mad at you. And you sometimes even wondered if she got off on exhilarating moments like these where you both knew you’d be in massive trouble had the fans somehow found out what was really happening.

For the next few minutes you decided not to test her patience and instead laid there on your side, staring at her. She was clearly uneasy after what just happened and thankfully ended the live not long after. Once she was sure it was turned off properly, she faced you. Unlike what you expected, she didn't start ridiculing you for your careless actions, but instead shoved your shoulder to lay you flat on the bed and climbed on top of you, situating herself between your legs.

Dami was never one to be this aggressive and you found your head spinning with both lust and confusion as she grabbed your neck again to kiss you deeply. Her other hand held her up so that all her weight wasn't on you, leaving a gap between your bodies. You took advantage of the space, putting your palm on her flat stomach while running the other across her side until you reached her hip. You felt her shiver at the ghost of your fingers across her skin and smirked into her mouth, remembering how sensitive she was there.

This made her pull back from your lips and look down at you. She appeared less like the warm, soft woman you were used to and now looked intimidating. You breathed heavily, keeping her intense eye contact as her hand travelled down your arm to where your fingers were toying with her waistband. She grabbed your wrist and abruptly pinned your hand above your head, leaning over you again and whispering, "Is this what you wanted?" Her voice was calm but threatening and it sent a tingle through your body. You’d never done anything to elicit this sort of reaction out of her and you didn’t know yet whether to be thankful or regretful for your previous actions.

You swallowed hard, feeling your pulse race from how different she was acting. Your head nodded on its own in response but she didn't seem satisfied.

"Say it,” she commanded in a deep voice. Her lips grazed across your jawline as she leaned in to whisper in your ear, “Tell me what you want." You shivered.

A few seconds after her words, you felt her fingers intertwine with yours where she held your hand at the head of the bed and your heart skipped a beat. You knew it was her way of reminding you that she would never do or say anything to make you uncomfortable. When you didn't answer immediately, she was probably worried that she’d taken it too far. But you needed her to know this is exactly what you wanted. So you replied,

"I want you."

That was all it took for her to pull back and capture your lips in hers, spending the rest of the night granting your wish over and over again until you were both satisfied.

**This imagine was converted over from my Wattpad account OT5Stan4Life**

#Dami #dami oneshot #dami x fem reader #dami x reader #dami imagine #dreamcatcher #dreamcatcher x fem reader #dreamcatcher 8th member #dreamcatcher oneshot #dreamcatcher fanfic #dreamcatcher x reader #dreamcatcher imagine #kpop #kpop gg #girl group #kpop oneshots #kpop ff #kpop imagines #gxg #girl group oneshot #girl group imagines #lesbian #lgbtq #kpop fanfic

[mkaugust]

Soulmate AU brought to you by discord, this post, eye rolls at the internet, and my evidently broken brain.

Jegulus, 1300 words.

Continued under the cut. Warnings for absolute crack and very bad sex.

There were many challenges to a world where you could only have sex with strangers born at the same time as you. For one thing, it meant the exact time of your birth, and sometimes birth certificates were wrong. You could go years thinking you were born at 6:24am and find out one day that it was actually 6:23am. (Thank god for parents that looked at the clock instead of your head when they heard that first cry.) The bigger challenge though was just how hard it was to meet strangers, and keep them strangers long enough to get through it.

James knew it would be worth it one day. He ignored the horror stories of those soulmate meetings and preserved. He’d meet his soulmate and have sex one day, he just knew it. And if it was as bad as everyone said? Well, that was alright! It was still better than never having the experience at all.

James was careful too, to ignore the whispers of those around him who said there was another way. That you could have sex with someone who wasn’t your soulmate…someone who wasn’t born at the same time as you. Someone a day, or even more older or younger! Someone who you knew. Even, James shuddered to even think about it, but he’d heard of someone having sex with a friend. And then they stayed friends. But he was careful. He knew they were very wrong for doing those things and he could be patient and do it right.

He took all the proper precautions and steps. The first thing James did when he saw an unfamiliar face was to ask them for their birthday. His parents had great stories of James as a small child, yelling across crowded streets for everyone to say their birthdays, just in case. It was always exciting when someone said a date other than March 27th, because it meant he had met someone he could be friends with, and James loved friends more than anything. But James thought it would be exciting too, when someone finally did say his birthday, just for a different reason.

He was not prepared for his best friend ever, the best friend he could ever have in the whole world, to say that date. Thankfully Sirius had a different birthday. James had asked, first thing when he met Sirius of course, and Sirius had said his birthday was November 3rd. James now kept a close ear out for that date on Sirius’ behalf, of course. But James had not thought to ask Sirius about his siblings’ birthdays and it had been…weeks into their friendship before Sirius had thought to mention it.

James had screamed, fainting on the spot when Sirius mentioned his brother’s birthday was March 27th. He said it like it was nothing; evidently he had forgotten James’ birthday. 

(Sirius didn’t really believe the soulmate hype, despite James’ attempts to explain the situation. James hadn’t given up yet; he was just keeping his fingers crossed that Sirius hadn’t already met his soulmate by accident. It was a bit of a disaster waiting to happen.)

When James woke up from his fainting spell to Sirius anxiously staring at him and shaking his shoulder, frantic, he interrupted Sirius’ pleas to know if he was feeling alright to yell “what time! What time was your brother born!” Sure enough, it was an exact match. 

James had found his soulmate.

From then on, James would run out of the room with his ears covered anytime Sirius mentioned his brother. He couldn’t be too careful; they needed to remain strangers until they were ready. Sirius struggled to understand the problem; Remus was much more receptive to James’ woes. Remus had stayed up with James for many a sleepless night as James cried.

“What if I already know too much? I know his last name, I know his brother so well. Do we even still count as strangers? What if Sirius is telling him about me when he’s home? What if I’m not a stranger to him anymore?”

“There, there, James.” Remus would say each time. “It’ll be alright. No one has to know if you’re perfect strangers or not. You can always lie.”

James would cry harder at that. Eventually, he’d always fall asleep that way. Remus knew just what he needed.

Finally, as his 25th birthday approached, James decided he was ready. 25 was the golden age after all, sooner would have been wrong, but if he waited much longer…well 26 was certainly too old. That’d be very wrong.

James asked Sirius to introduce him to his brother. Sirius, who had been speaking to Regulus about this for years now, agreed and set up a date and time for them to meet. Regulus confirmed he was ready too. Sirius offered to give them each other’s phone numbers, but both men had cried and screamed at the idea. Nothing had convinced him before, but Sirius now saw it was clear that these two men were soulmates.

The day they had selected arrived and James spent hours setting up the perfect atmosphere in the hotel room he had booked for the occasion. Finally, there was a knock at the door. It was time. Regulus had arrived.

James answered the door to find the man of his dreams. He was gorgeous. Skinny, pale, with dark hair and light eyes, and clearly, exactly the same age as James. It was incredible how obvious the age similarity was, even at first sight. This was his soulmate. James felt tears in his eyes.

“Hi, I’m Regulus.” Regulus murmured as he stepped through the doorway and removed his shoes, looking a bit shy.

“Shh,” James shushed him. “We have to be careful, don’t say too much. My perfect stranger soulmate.”

Regulus only smiled, clearly overcome with agreement.

They made their way silently to the bed and removed their own clothing efficiently. Then, they sat at outside ends of the turned down bed, flaccid cocks on display as they hesitated, equally unsure of the next step.

“We might have to speak a bit now…” Regulus suggested.

“Alright, just don’t tell me anything about yourself.” James replied firmly.

“Of course.” Regulus agreed.

“Should we kiss? And then…I am prepared, I did bring lube.”

“Oh, good. Yes, let’s try that.”

They pressed their faces together harshly at first and then more gently when they seemed to mutually find their noses were a bit too smooshed. Eventually, they managed to find just enough of a rhythm to encourage each other to hardness. They shifted around until they were laying on their sides, facing each other and lips still pressed together between gasping breaths. 

“We should move a little closer I think,” Regulus suggested.

“Uh, yes. Here, lube!” James replied with an enthusiastic squirt of the bottle over first Regulus’ cock and then his own.

“Thanks, I think.” They exchanged a tentative smile, before pressing their bodies against each other and resuming clumsy kisses. 

“Are we…doing this right, do you think?” James asked Regulus after a moment.

“I don’t know. I’ve never done it before, obviously.”

“Oh of course not. Me neither, obviously. Well, um, let’s try, maybe moving?”

“Yeah, yes, please.”

They awkwardly and clumsily pushed against one another, the lube James had generously poured rubbing all over their stomachs. Communicating mostly in a series of grunts, they eventually found an acceptable rhythm and came one after the other.

“Gross,” they both sighed under their breath at the exact same moment as they rolled away from one another. They made brief eye contact and laughed tightly.

“Soulmates, I guess.” Regulus remarked.

James nodded with a grin. “You can shower first.” James offered, ever the gracious host.

Regulus thanked him and moved away to shower and dress quickly. James did his best to clean up and pull his clothes back on, anxious to be dressed when Regulus was done showering, ready to put this whole ordeal behind him.

Finally, Regulus walked out, dressed and already headed for the door. “Well, goodbye, soulmate.”

“Goodbye, soulmate.” James breathed a sigh of relief as the door shut.

It was finally over.

#crack #seriously its just crack #jegulus #soulmate au #bad sex #how is this the first thing ive successfully finished in months

[getvalentined]

Okay so while I'm 99.999999% sure that BoTW and ToTK take place on their own timeline (I've even figured out where the divergence must have occurred for the events in those games to take place as they did and wrote a spoileriffic post all about it), there is at least one other option. Maybe two.

Spoilers and 1300+ words of lore and theory nonsense under the cut.

There are some things I've noticed that, when put together, form a very interesting possibility. It's not nearly as solid as the concept of this being an entirely different timeline altogether, and separately these things don't mean much of anything. Viewed together, though, they do seem to point in a fairly distinct direction.

Key points:

The Depths are full of massive ancient fossilized tree roots

Hyrule as a whole is heavily populated with the remains of absolutely enormous fossilized tree stumps

The Koroks exist, but the Kokiri don't

The Rito exist, as do the Zora

These Zora can live in freshwater or saltwater without suffering negative effects

Ganondorf refers to Sonia as being Hyrulean, not Hylian, in spite of Hyrule as a kingdom being founded by her and Rauru

Triforce imagery already exists back in that time period, to the point that Sonia has it tattooed on her body

This...may actually be the far-flung future of the WindWaker timeline.

Points 1, 2 and 3:

In WindWaker, the Deku Tree created the Koroks out of the Kokiri so that they would survive in some capacity after the Goddesses flooded the world. They traverse the world dropping seeds in the hopes that the trees born from those seeds will take root deep enough to join together and recreate land.

The Depths are full of ancient fossilized trees. Hyrule is covered in their remains. The Koroks travel the world for reasons unknown. The Lost Woods contain both a Lake Saria and a Mido Swamp, which we can say are just shout-outs to previous titles—except that Urbosa mentions Nabooru by name in BoTW, meaning that she existed. And if she existed, in the capacity that we know her from Ocarina of Time, then Saria existed. And yet the Koroks exist, and the Kokiri don't.

Points 4 and 5:

In WindWaker, the Rito used to be the Zora. They were magically evolved over time because they couldn't survive the flood, there was something wrong with the water. In Ocarina of Time, Zoras appear to be strictly freshwater entities; there are oceanic Zora in Majora's Mask, but that's either so far back on the timeline that Hylia and Demise haven't landed yet, or it's an alternate timeline altogether. In BoTW and ToTK, the Zora are very clear that they can survive in basically any water. They've tested this. They know they'll be fine no matter what.

Rito and Zoras in BoTW and ToTK have very, very similar body shapes, with long torsos and long arms and short legs, very limited sexual dimorphism, and expression of features similar to multiple different real-world animals that live in their respective environments. Teba is a harpy eagle, Kass is a sapphire macaw, Revali is a Steller's jay, Penn is a pelican; Mipha seems to be a false killer whale, Sidon is a hammerhead shark, King Dorephan is a blue whale, Yona is a devil ray.

Unlike the Rito in WindWaker, these Rito are literally just birds. They don't have to go earn their wings, they grow flight feathers at certain levels of maturity just like normal birds. Unlike the Zora in previous titles, who seemed to age at a rate on-pace with Hylians, the Zora age similarly to some some rare deep sea animals—coelacanths, for instance, reach physical maturity around 40-60 years old. (Reminder that coelacanths were also assumed to be wiped out, leaving behind only differently-evolved relatives.)

If we assume that the Koroks' mission was successful, then the Zora could very well have come back into being intentionally, the same way that they became the Rito in the first place. Some remained as Rito, while others chose to branch off and recreate what they used to be, using magic and careful breeding to make sure that they wouldn't die if the water turned against them again. Likewise, the Rito changed alongside them to become more suited to the changing environment, until they reached a point where they don't even remember that they came from the same place. (EDIT: Lending further credence to this possibility, the Stormwind Ark literally looks like two seahorses swimming side by side. Not birds. Nothing airborne. Seahorses.)

Points 6 and 7:

The existence of the Triforce as a holy symbol and the use of "Hyrulean" to describe someone of Hylian descent indicates that Rauru and Sonia didn't create Hyrule as a place, but organized it as a nation. The land of Hyrule already existed, it just wasn't under anyone's rule. Rauru and Sonia, with the power that they possessed, were able to organize the land on which they lived to create a kingdom—it was already called Hyrule, they just took control.

This makes absolutely no sense whatsoever in any context that I can think of outside the WindWaker timeline, where the destined bearers of the Triforce and the Hylian royal family haven't existed for ages. One of three points in the timeline where Ganondorf was killed, not just sealed away. (The other two being Twilight Princess and ToTK.) Until this point, Ganondorf is always the same Ganondorf. He's the same person as he was in Ocarina of Time—the Triforce of Power made him immortal, that's why all anyone could ever do was seal him up. The Master Sword is the sword that seals the darkness, not the sword that destroys the darkness.

There's a really interesting bit in the Twilight Princess manga that, while I know it's noncanon for the games, lends a lot of credence to the idea that Ganondorf in ToTK is the first time that Ganondorf has been properly and truly reincarnated.

Trigger warning for mention of suicide, and spoiler warning for the Twilight Princess manga.

Toward the end of the manga, during the final battle, Link is losing. Link is going to lose. He comes to the realization that he can't kill Ganondorf not because Ganondorf is stronger than him, but because he's just one part of a whole—and Link and Zelda make up the rest of it. Link realizes that he doesn't have the right to kill Ganondorf, because they need each other to exist. He was chosen by Din for a reason, like Link was chosen by Farore and Zelda was chosen by Nayru, and even if nobody knows why Din allowed that to happen that doesn't make it the right of one Goddess' champion to kill another. Ganondorf refuses to accept this, and kills himself so that he can finally be swept into the reincarnation cycle along with Link and Zelda, rather that just living forever and meeting new versions of them again and again. He demands the opportunity to reset and do what he wants without the fetters of his previous attempts weighing on him, with a promise to return someday and take what he deserves.

Ganondorf dies at the end of WindWaker, and it's very possible that he wouldn't be reborn again until the time period where Hyrule would be revived. Ganondorf is the destined bearer of the Triforce of Power—and Rauru is the Sage of Light, but he very clearly serves as a stand-in for the Triforce of Courage, while Sonia presumably stood in for Wisdom until Zelda arrived. At that point, given that Zelda is the destined bearer chosen by Nayru in order to bolster her ability to interface with Hylia (or to house her outright), any protection that position could have granted Sonia was lost, and Ganondorf was able to kill her where he couldn't have killed Zelda.

Do I think this is the case? Almost certainly not. Do I think it's possible? Absolutely.

The other possibility is that Ganondorf in WindWaker succeeded in his wish to reset the timeline and undo everything and the Goddesses took advantage of the wish and rolled it back so far that they removed the Triforce from the timeline altogether in the hopes that Ganondorf would never come into being at all. This new timeline would thereby be the result of that, but there's not much to indicate that beyond the fact that the Imprisoning War is literally the events of Ocarina of Time without the Triforce or Link, down to Zelda watching him kneel in front of the King of Hyrule and ask for allegiance, then telling that king that Ganondorf is obviously evil. I swear it's almost word for word. Zelda. Don't be racist.

#totk spoilers #tears of the kingdom #totk #breath of the wild #botw #windwaker #ocarina of time #twilight princess #the legend of zelda #fandom ramble #lore gremlin reporting for duty #none of my friends are into zelda #I am trying so hard not to just flood them #with stuff they don't care about #so I'm just putting it all here #sorry about that

[mellowpiepizzalamp]

Cutting Buck’s hair

Summary: Bucky’s hair didn’t sit good with him anymore.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X F!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, my rubbish writing (it’s a warning)

Word count: ~1300 words

A/N: just a disclaimer I AM NOT A HAIRDRESSER, I just put Brad Mondo’s video into writing. Also, I love Bucky with long hair, but I couldn’t help but imagine something like this. Also, I think it’s free if like skin colour and hair colour description of the reader, exept she/her pronouns. If you find something let me know because it’s not supposed to be here. If I get any shit from someone for using dutch at the end I will block you because it’s my first language and I’d like to use it sometimes because I know I would if I was with someone who didn’t speak dutch. Bye loves!

“Buck, can we go to the store today? We can get your favourite crisps too and- Are you okay?” she was cut off by the sight of Bucky tracing his scars with a judging look while his hair kept falling into his face as he stood before the mirror. 

He jumped when he realised she stood at the bathroom door. “Yeah, Yeah, fine. I was just uhm, what were you saying?” he said and scrambled to put on his shirt. 

“Bucky calm down. What’s worrying you?” she asked him and held him by his elbows. His hands were trembling and he doubtfully put his hands on her skin.  

“I- I just, I-” he couldn’t get the words out, avoided her eyes, breathed heavily and tears started to form in his eyes. 

“Do the breathing exercise with me yeah? In and out, slowly.” They breathed together until he could keep the rhythm. 

“I had a nightmare last night, but you were still sleeping when I woke up, so I didn’t want to wake you up, but that nightmare was horrible.” He managed to keep his breathing even but the tears still started. 

“You can always wake me, okay? No matter the reason,” she soothed and opened her arms for a hug. 

“I hate the scars and the stupid arm, but worst of all, I hate the hair. It reminds me of the Winter Soldier and I don’t want to be him anymore, never wanted to be.” He cried into her neck as he hid his face. 

After the year they had been together, she was proud of how far they had come. It was still hard at times but they faced it together. 

“Your body might have been the Winter Soldier but your heart and mind never were. And your body had changed too you know. You have scars from fighting on the side you have always wanted to, you have a different arm that’s way stronger, you get to decide who you are, who you love, where you go, everything. And if your hair is standing in the way of you being happy, we can cut it,” she smiled. 

He lifted his head and rested it against hers. “Will you do it?” he asked, just above a whisper. 

“I’m not a hairdresser,” she said nervously. 

“I don’t want anyone else to do it,” he said as he took a step back and look at the ground. 

“Okay, I can try. Don’t kill me if it looks bad,” she smiled and pulled him back and gave him a kiss. 

“I’ll lock you in the house with me if that happens.” 

“Ah, so I get to fuck up your hair and get a reward.”

Three days later she came back after buying some things she might need after the advice of a real hairdresser. 

“Buck, I’ve got everything, literally. I’ve got clippers, a comb, official hair scissors, even thinning sheers, metal hair clips, a water bottle spray thing and advice of a hairdresser.” She smiled as he came out of the kitchen, half his hair in a bun, and still eating cereal. 

“Thanks, doll, can we do it now?” he asked with his puppy eyes. 

“Of course! You go and sit down and I’ll get a towel and fill the bottle.” 

When she got that all she put the towel around his neck and carefully secured it with a safety pin. 

She grabbed the stool on wheels from her office before sitting down on it. “Want me to tell you what I’m doing?” He nodded and smiled at her through the mirror once she put it upon the table. 

She placed a kiss on top of his head before she began. “First I’m going to chop off all this length,” she grinned in an American accent she knew he hated. 

He mocked a fake glare that faded away with a kiss on his cheek. 

“Ready?” she asked as her scissors stood at the ready to cut the fist strand halfway. He nodded and met her eyes in the mirror. 

“You’re going to need to talk, otherwise it isn’t my fault I fuck up your hair,” she smiled. 

“Yes, I’m ready,” he said and heaved a breath of excitement. She cut it off and handed it to him. As she did the rest, it fell to the ground as Bucky still saved the first strands. “

Now, we have a very nice bob, something for you, monsieur?” she asked with a smile and he scrunched his nose. She kept playing with European words, as in words from European languages, as she was used to, due to her very Dutch background. 

“Then we need to section your hair,” she smiled and wheeled to get the metal clippers and comb from the table in front of them. 

“I’m going to comb it back and from here I’m going to do it like this and clip this up, see?” she turned his head for him to see and he smiled. 

She finished sectioning and took him through the process. “Now the clippers, with the longest thing for on it, I don’t know what they’re called,” she said and plugged it in. 

“Guards, need me to put them on?” “Yes,” she handed it to him. 

“Okay, she said I needed to hold the comb in one hand and the clippers in the others and do it like this,” she started and went around his whole head with a certain motion. 

“If I shave your ear off, that’s not my problem,” she murmured as she now did the parts by his ears as she’s been avoiding those. He smiled, making his ears move and she gave him a look through the mirror. 

“That’s dangerous Barnes.” She finished and got him to switch it to a smaller guard and repeated the motion but in a different way, Bucky didn’t know anymore but went along. 

She switched guards again and he figured out she was doing some sort of gradient on his hair, it started to look really good. 

“I’m fixing these bits now,” she smiled and cleaned up his hairline. 

She took the thinning sheers and cleared the top parts until they were both happy with it. She let down his top hair and parted it in two after wetting his hair. Then she proceeded to section it in more bits and cut it at an angle. She combed it back into the next small section and cut it off at the same angle and length. 

After measuring if the front two bits were the same lengths she did the other side too. She kept his hair wet throughout and was now putting a heat protector in his hair and blow-dried it. 

She styled it a bit to one side and then revealed it to him, although he had been looking the whole time. 

“I left it a bit longer on top so I don’t ruin it for the barber but I hope you like it.” He kept looking at it and couldn’t help but touch the back of his head. 

“Also, I uhm, I went off of this picture with styling. I hope I wasn’t doing wrong by doing that,” she held up a very old picture of him and Steve on a mountain on a mission. 

Bucky was speechless and just flung himself at her while he cried tears of happiness. 

“Thank you, how did you get that picture?” 

She smiled softly at him and said, “Steve owed me,” and winked. “I’m asking you later about that,” he said in her neck and dragged her over to the sofa and laid down with her. 

As he started to cry again she held him and let him do so. 

“Thank you so much, I’ve never felt more myself since falling off that fucking train.” he said with a teary smile before kissing her softly. 

“Anytime mijn lief.” [my love, in dutch]

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barns imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x y/n #marvel

[infernalodie]

𝐂𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚 || 𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬

“𝘐 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯' 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘐 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯' 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘐 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯' 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦 𝘐 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘷𝘪𝘯' 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶“

Inspo: Mac Miller - Cinderella

Pairing: Ellie Williams x Fem!reader

Summary: Ellie could barely recognize you when you top her.

Warnings: Just smut

Part Two

Words 1300

DNI IF YOU’RE YOUNGER THAN 18!

“Y/n, if you don’t untie me, I’m going to poison your next meal!”

Ellie could only hear your laugh of amusement from the bathroom. The door shut, only building the dread you had ambushed her with the moment she got off her patrol. You had managed to get her to your guys’ bedroom where you distracted her just enough that you could tie her to the bed posts. She was just more confused by the simple fact that she didn’t know how she couldn’t see through your hidden agenda and innocence.

Now, she was left bare, clothes long discarded and cut off by you using her switchblade. Wrists tied to the bed posts with no way to cover up her body from the cold that seeped through the cracks of the cabin. An everlasting wonder of what you just had planned next for now that she was left to be used as you saw fit now that the roles were reversed.

Grunts left Ellie as she tugged on the fabric holding her wrists above her head. Legs folded together to keep some heat around her dripping core that ached. She wouldn’t lie, she was impressed and incredibly turned on by your dedication to this master plan. Not at all was happy about it, but she sure as hell was proud that you had the gall to even decide to do this.

Her attempts at freedom were put on hold when she heard the bathroom door lock turn and then the door open. And there she found you, wearing one of her shirts that were way too big for you and that sinful harness around your waist with one of the biggest silicone pieces she uses to punish you. The sight alone was horror fuel considering you had never dominated a girl in your life and you didn’t know half of the shit you were doing.

Yet, she still found it surprisingly sexy seeing you like this.

“Are you done being annoying?” You inquired, walking over and climbing onto the bed.

“Y/n, I am serious,” Ellie persisted. “Let me out or I swear the punishment will be worse than just a rough fuck.”

The threat, that you could come true, only made you grin in amusement. But your only response to it was you forcing her legs apart and slapping her dripping core. A cry fell from Ellie’s lips as you sat between her parted legs. Lips pouting mockingly towards the girl who attempted to gain control of her rapid breaths from the shot of ecstasy. “Crazy how the power dynamic changes, huh?” You mocked. “All talk, but seriously no bite.”

“I’ll fucking show you no-”

You pressed the tip of the fake cock passed her entrance. Eliciting a guttural moan from Ellie as she threw her head back. “I’m going to ask you this again. Are you done being annoying?”

Ellie couldn’t lie to herself anymore. You were a completely different person when you had that strap on. Because yes, the power dynamic changes, but she never expected you to be capable of this. Whoever you got pointers from was going to seriously pay when Ellie got her hands on them. Nonetheless, you had the girl panting and holding her tongue from asking for more. She wouldn’t satisfy you with that, but she did hum to your question.

A satisfied smile formed on your lips as let your hands grasp her smooth hips. The initial cold touch sends a shiver down Ellie’s body as you slowly push the tip of the cock into her entrance. She couldn’t contain the hiss from the stretch as you rubbed circles into her waist. Doing everything Dina and Jesse had told you to do, not only that but using what you had picked up on every time Ellie and you had sex.

“You have to answer me, baby,” you cooed in a rather patronizing tone that left Ellie’s face flushed in embarrassment at how easily you were breaking her down. “C’mon. You can use that pretty mouth of yours, right?”

“Fuck you.”

You groaned in annoyance, shoving your fingers between her lips. Ellie gagged at the sudden intrusion, eyes wide as you slowly thrust your fingers into her mouth. “You wanna know something?” Your lips slightly parted, watching Ellie reluctantly obey and start sucking on your tongue. Groaning at the feeling of her tongue swirling between and around your digits as you pressed down on her slick tongue. “That mouth is the best and worst thing about you.”

Ellie’s eyes rolled back at the sudden and wide stretch of you thrusting the cock deep into her. Her arms attempted to tug free, but you continued to fuck her mercilessly. Your lips had formed a smirk as you watched your girlfriend moan and hiss in pain from the lack of preparation.

“Doesn’t feel nice, huh?” You asked, fingers hitting the back of her throat and causing her to gag. “This is how I feel every time you are frustrated and fuck me. Only right you get a taste of your own medicine, right?”

At this point, choked and muffled cries fell from Ellie’s lips as she was a babbling mess. Somewhere between uncomfortable and content with the roughness and beautiful thrusts and attitude you mixed all together. Not once had she ever been on the receiving end of a strap. So, this was as new as it was going to get and would likely be her worst experience. Because she had a feeling that after tonight, you would start getting the itch sooner or later.

Grabbing at her hips, you groaned at the way Ellie’s fresh canal took the strap with ease. Far easier than you had expected when coming up with the plan. And the way she whined out like some puppy, you didn’t care how hard or how mean you were to her, she was practically begging for this shit.

“You fuckin’ like that, Ellie?” You questioned, hips slamming against hers with the consecutive loud clapping of skin filling the room. “How does it feel to be my little toy, baby girl?”

“F-Fuck me, Y/n. Oh, fuck yes.” Her panted-out words were choked and nearly incoherent to the multiple sounds filling the space around her. But you heard enough that you wrapped a hand around her throat, fingers squeezing on the sides as you used the other to press her right thigh down and swing your leg over.

Keeping the strap inside, you slowly thrust the cock deeper into the girl, causing her to moan out before your pace had quickened. The repetitive sound of flesh slapping together becomes continuous. “You asked for it, babe,” you panted out with a chuckle. “I am only providing for my favourite girl.”

Again, Ellie was a complete fucked out mess as the leather of the strap bumped and rubbed harshly against her abused clit. Your newfound position only allowed you to reach parts inside her that didn’t even seem possible. And your pace was unforgiving, to say the least. You were fucking her like you were in some type of heat.

And when Ellie finally met her climax, you didn’t stop. Nothing stopped you, even when she begged and pleaded with tears in her eyes. “Y/n, p-please. ‘s too much.”

You could only smile in amusement, eyes heavy as you continued to pound the false cock into her quivering hole. Watching her body flinch and twitch under the harsh thrusts. She was so beautiful like this. The sight alone only had you thinking of all the ways you were going to fuck her tonight.

Leaning down, you pressed a kiss to her cheek, grinning as she moaned and whined under your stimulation. “I am sure training you won’t take too long, baby.”

#ellie williams fanfiction #tlou ellie #ellie williams imagine #tlou2 #tlou2 ellie #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us 2 #the last of us fanfiction #ellie williams x fem!reader #ellie williams x fem reader #x fem reader #x fem!reader #the last of us x fem!reader #ellie williams smut

[chaoticsimp]

Bittersweet

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

Relationship: Shirakumo x Reader 

Content Warnings: SFW, angst, so much angst, fluff, and Spoilers if you haven't made it past Season 5 Episode 19!

Summary: They say you never forget your first love, and a call from an old friend reminds you just how true that is.

A/N: I've just been having so many feelings about Shirakumo.

Word Count: 1300

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

You stared at the closed door. When your old high school pals reached out, you couldn’t have imagined it would be for this. At first, you refused, but then Aizawa went ahead and sent you a plane ticket. Then before you knew it, you boarded the long flight home. You blamed your uneasy stomach on the turbulence and your nerves on the years since you’d seen Aizawa or Yamada, years since you were home. You had been given one night to settle in, and now you were staring at that closed door.

“Whenever you’re ready.” Aizawa’s tone was the same as when he called, and when he picked you up from the airport, soft and cautious. He didn’t want to be here either, but he needed to know if more of him was still in there. If there was something you could reach that they couldn't.

“We won’t have long, and he’ll still be slightly sedated. You just have to talk to him.”

“What happened when you did?” It was something you should have asked when they gave over the case file, but you dreaded the answer.

“We can discuss it after,” Yamada suggested. “Right now, you need to focus.”

“I-I don’t know if-”

“We’ll be right behind you,” Aizawa promised. Yet you couldn’t move, paralyzed with the thought of him, of your childhood love still alive behind that door.

“Okay,” You finally said, releasing a shaky breath. “I’m ready.”

The guard tapped a code in the panel to the left of the door, then pulled it open. You walked with slow steps, and time seemed to drag as you stepped through. You kept your eyes down and clutched your coat to steady your trembling hands. The door shut with a clang that made you jump, and the three of you stood in silence.

“Y/N,” Yamada spoke in a hushed tone, and you felt a hand touch the small of your back prompting you forward. You released another shaky breath and finally looked up. You knew what to expect – yet you couldn’t quite wrap your mind around the bound prisoner before you cloaked in a black mist, and bound in a white jacket. You stared through the glass, into glowing yellow eyes and tried to see the blue ones that you still dreamed of.

“They tell me your Oboro Shirakumo,” You started, taking a small step forward. “Or part of him.”

The police said you just needed to talk. Aizawa and Yamada suggested something personal, and you were very aware of the eyes watching you – observing his response.

“My name is Kurogiri,” He replied slowly. An answer you expected, yet it made your stomach twist. You were still trying to see what Aizawa and Yamada did, what made them reach out to you but how could any part of this…thing be him?

“Go on,” Aizawa encouraged.

“I don’t know why I’m here,” You sighed.

“I know what they say, but I can’t believe them because the Shirakumo I knew could have never harmed another soul, or helped people who did." You paused, and your brow furrowed as you thought of what to say next.

"He was warm and bright, like the sun. He had a smile that you couldn't resist, and eyes as blue as the sky. He loved me, a-and I…” You cut yourself off when you felt tears pricking at your eyes. You didn't think it would be this hard to talk about him, but you couldn't back down now.

“Do you remember when we met?”

“This would be our first encounter,” He replied, but it didn’t deter you from your story.

“It was in our first year at UA. I was a transfer, and our teacher asked for a volunteer to show me around. You didn’t even raise your hand,” You recalled, almost laughing as you remembered him shooting up from his seat. He had nearly knocked over his desk as he barreled to the front of the class. 

“You didn’t give anyone else a chance. Do you remember how you introduced yourself?” You asked, and he stayed silent. His eyes were focused on you as if you were the only two in the room.

“Shirakumo Oboro, your future husband.” You heard a snort from behind you, and the memory made you smile as it did every time you thought of it. Shirakumo’s outstretched hand, his wide grin and the giggles of the classroom as you muttered an embarrassed no thank you. You could almost feel that blush all these years later.

“I thought you were crazy, but after a while, I started to believe you,” You confessed. “You were so full of life. You were incredible, so incredible that I couldn’t believe you picked me.”

You wiped your cheek with your sleeve, stealing a glance down at your shoes as you thought of where to go next. If you could even go to the next story without breaking down, but with your friends behind you, you felt the support you needed to keep going. 

"When you finally asked me out I spent hours with Kayama picking out the perfect outfit, and the perfect make-up, and getting her advice on the perfect first kiss," You listed, briefly wishing she was here too.

"I even finished patrol early to get ready, and then 5PM rolled around and there was a knock at the door.” You paused, the lump in your throat felt like it was going to strangle you.

“It was me,” Aizawa continued, and you glanced over your shoulder, meeting his glowing gaze.

“I still remember the look in your eyes, the realization before I said anything.” You nodded and looked back, getting close enough to the glass to set your hand against it. You pressed your lips together, briefly eyeing your teary face in the faint reflection.

“You died before we ever got the chance,” Your voice cracked, but he remained silent. His eyes drifted to your hand and his head seemed to flicker, a brief break in his composure as you continued.

“I don’t know what I want more, for you to be alive or dead in there. Neither is easy,” You admitted. “But I suppose nothing will change that the boy I knew is gone and-”

“You’re not married,” He said slowly, interrupting your train of thought. You looked at your hand on the glass, realizing it was your left. You closed it to a fist and placed it behind your back, yet his eyes tried to follow. His head twitched again as he slowly met your gaze.

“I-I guess I never really got over you,” You replied quietly. You were nearing your limit. If you spent another second down memory lane you were going to have an anxiety attack, yet you hesitated. If this was really him, if you really had your second chance what would you want to say to him? You swallowed the lump in your throat, meeting his gaze one more time.

“If you’re in there Kumo – if any small part of you is in there then know that I did love you and I always will.” You quickly turned to leave. You noticed the teary look in both Aizawa and Yamada’s eyes, but they understood without you having to speak. Yamada knocked on the door, and a moment later the lock unclicked with a soft buzz.

“You gave it your best,” Yamada assured you as he opened the door, and you offered a small smile as thanks. You stepped through the door, ready to go to a bar for the promised free drinks until an unfamiliar voice stuttered your name. You turned on your heel, staring back into the room as a flicker of the face you once knew, of the face you loved peaked through that dark mist.

#oboro shirakumo #shirakumo x reader #mha shirakumo #bnha shirakumo #shirakumo x y/n #mha x y/n #mha fanfiction #mha spoilers

[divinegrey]

ᴄᴀʀᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ / ꜰᴀᴅᴇ x ɢɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

i wrote this one awfully quick! hope everyone enjoys it!

prompt: hiii! I hope you don't mind but is it okay if i request for a fade x gn reader? Where the reader's birthday is almost near and they get severely injured but they try to hide it from her? [requested by @hoteltrivago-mentallyunstable , thank you for your patience!]

words: 1300

warnings: mentions of blood and injuries, slight angst followed by fluff and comfort

The thundering of everyone rushing back onto the Vulture is like a spike of adrenaline. 

“Need some healing over here ASAP!” Yoru shouts, holding Jett’s arm over his shoulder until he can drop her into a seat. Sage slides onto her knees, grabbing onto the duelist’s thigh and administering a healing orb before the woman passes out. At the same time, you drop into a seat and pull the buckles tight. As soon as everyone is inside, the Vulture takes off back to base. 

“Fucking hell,” you say, reesting your head. You glance sideward at Breach. “What the fuck was that?” 

The massive man looks worse for wear, blood smeared on his forehead. “Don’t fucking know, kid. Don’t fucking know.” 

The mission, although a success, was gruesome. Round after round you assaulted the attackers trying to steal your radianite, and it had been vicious. More bullets hit you than you can count, and it was only because of Sage’s constant presence that you were able to stay on your feet and help Breach clear entry sites. 

And all on my birthday week! 

“Okay, Jett’s stable,” Sage says, standing up. Checking your mission log, you realize how much flack Sage had picked up— Yoru wasn’t having the best day with his shots and had to make up for it, and it shows in the way Sage holds back a wince every time she shifts her weight to center. “Anyone else need it?” 

The bullet wound on the side of your stomach says so, but honestly, it’s okay. You can deal with it later— the armor you’re wearing is conveniently choking out the wound and you shoved a wad of fabric into it earlier. Sage looks beyond exhausted, and the last thing she needs is to worry about you. 

The ride home is quiet. Every shift and jostle of the Vulture sends another spike of pain into your side, but you’re lucky you’ve got a good poker face. 

When you arrive back on Base, Skye is waiting with her healing field as soon as you step out. It’s brief, but it’s enough to get rid of the lesser cuts and scratches on your face, so much so that you’re able to walk off without needing to go to the infirmary.

Upon seeing your girlfriend waiting anxiously near the doors, you walk over to her with an arm outstretched. 

“I’m okay,” you say into her hair, pressing a kiss to her head. From the way she’s holding you softly yet with so much care tells you that she was worried— must’ve found out from Cypher how the mission was going, or knew it herself. You continue, “But I smell like shit, so can I go take a shower?” 

“As long as I can come,” Fade murmurs, and you nod. Fade intertwines her fingers with yours. “Your birthday is in two days, they couldn’t have found someone else to take your place?” 

“Baby, I did a mission on my birthday last year before you arrived, it happens,” you try to reason with her, but one of Fade’s many strengths (and faults) is her stubbornness. She merely grunts and you squeeze her hand. 

You manage to shoo her off long enough to get some privacy in the shower; Fade doesn’t need to know, and you’ve handled enough bullet wounds in your life to know how to take care of one properly. After you’re done cleaning off all of the dirt and gunk in the shower, you step out with your towel tied around your waist.

It’s worse than you expected. It stings like a bitch and you have to bite down on your cheek when you clean it out with warm water, picking out pieces of shrapnel with tweezers with a gentle tink when they’re placed onto the counter. The bullet, whoever had shot it, narrowly missed hitting any organs, but they took off a decent chunk of your skin. 

With a resigned sigh, you reach for the needle and thread. 

“Aşkım, I got you clo—” 

Fuck. 

You didn’t lock the door. Why would you? Fade is your girlfriend. 

You meet her mismatched eyes in the reflection of the mirror, witnessing the very moment she sees the bullet graze on your side and the needle in your hand. The stack of clothes in her hand falls to the side. 

Fade’s throat bobs, and her voice is thick with something you can’t yet read. “You said you were fine.” 

“I am, baby, I am,” you say, exceedingly gentle in your words as you press a cloth to the wound so it doesn’t bleed everywhere. Skye’s brief healing field had cauterized most of the veins, leaving a scant few to trickle out. “I’m okay.” 

Fade’s eyebrows pinch together harshly as she drops the clothes onto the toilet and walks over to you. She pushes your hips onto the counter, sliding her hand on top of yours and pressing onto the wound. 

“And you didn’t think to mention this to Sage? Or Skye? Or someone who could’ve fixed it?” 

You bite the inside of your cheek. Fade rarely gets mad, and now feels like one of those moments. 

“It’s not that bad,” you croak out. 

“Not that bad?” Fade echoes. She pulls the cloth away. “Aşkım, part of your body, however small, is now missing. I’d hate to see what you consider bad.” 

Feeling thoroughly scolded, you bow your head. “I’m sorry, Hazal. I didn’t want you to worry. I could’ve taken care of this myself.” 

“But you shouldn’t have to.” Fade pulls the needle and thread out of your hand. “This isn’t going to help. This can’t be stitched back together. It’ll have to heal on its own time.” 

Swallowing the knot in your throat, you nod. “I’m sorry.” 

“I—” Fade cuts herself off, rolling up some gauze. She presses it onto the wound, instructing you to hold it there while she wraps a bandage around your waist to hold it in place. She works with a focus you call terrifying. When she’s done, she puts her hands onto your shoulders. “I don’t care that you lied to me. I care that you decided not to take care of yourself. You are the worst when it comes to being self-sacrificial, I swear.” 

“I’m so sorry,” you apologize again, and Fade cups your cheek. 

“I’ve already forgiven you. I love you to the ends of this earth, but please, get the healing when you need it. Our lives are short enough as it is— I don’t need to lose you two days before your birthday because of a stray bullet,” Fade says, and god, every single word from her mouth makes you feel beyond guilty. Once again, you nod in understanding. Fade gets up on her tiptoes and lays a kiss onto your mouth. 

You slide your arms around her back, soaking in her touch and the feel of her lips. It’s a balm to your mind, soothing the way a cold shower is during a hot day, or the way sinking into the sheets after hours of being awake late at night. Fade became an important part of your life months after her arrival onto the base, but the care she holds for you is a testament to her commitment and her love. 

She cares for you in a way that no one else ever has. 

“I’m sorry,” you murmur. 

“I forgive you,” Fade repeats against your lips. She kisses you, long and sweet, before pulling away. “Come on. I’ll get one of the others to bring us food. We’re cuddling.” 

There’s a no-nonsense tone to her words, so you pull on your clothes with the help of your girlfriend and step back into your room. Fade curls around you on the bed, holding you tight, and the exhaustion from the mission lulls you into a dreamless sleep. 

~~~~~ A/N: i characterize fade as being the type to not care about people outwardly in public, but alone, she frets so much because she's seen so much in her life <3 my favorite meow meow

#fade x reader #valorant fade x reader #fade #fade valorant #hazal eyletmez #fade imagines #valorant x reader #valorant fanfiction #valorant #valorant imagines

[thecameronchronicles]

Uber

TW: semi-public sex. Smut. Language. Minor angst. 

SUMMARY: Trevor's job pulls him to a night intertwined with your drama, where rewards are set just beyond initial hesitations. 

WORD COUNT:  1300

*ORIGINAL CONCEPT* 

Uber 

It was just another job on a long resume to make ends meet. Even if it was not as glamorous as the one he held previously, with sarcasm held behind the thought, it was enough to pay for his cigarettes and tonight's meal. And that, for Trevor, was enough. 

Flicking the ash off of his cigarette before taking another hit, he waited at the agreed upon location outside of the club to pick up his recent charge. But as the minutes bled over beyond what was expected to be some drunk girl making her way stumbling from the club, his eyes found you in the final moments of his limiting patience. You weren't drunk or even smiling from a night of having been beneficially entertained. Instead, you were pushing yourself out of the doors and in search of the car on your side of the app, matching the make and model through your tipsy haze that made you appear somehow sober to him, before slipping your way into the back of his car. 

A pleasant smile was mirrored in his refractive rearview before he pulled from the curb in the nick of time of some drunk guy flipped you off. You waited until your driver was devoted to his phone's GPS to the address you had given him, before pulling the foreign wallet from your pocket. His eyes surveyed you for a moment in silence before he recognized that expression. The same one he wore of silent pride in a job well done. Because of this, he would set the car into a vacant alleyway before supplying a hand across the headrest of the passenger chair and turning to face you. You swallowed hard as his eyes trained onto you. 

"How much did you get?" 

"Enough so you're off the rest of the night..." You fingered the slit of the wallet. "Maybe even the weekend..." 

"That's my girl..." You were apprehended by his hand collecting your hair, pulling you to meet his kiss. Just as it had worked for the last month, this ruse proved fruitful once again. 

"This one seemed too close this time..." He explained in the memory of you being followed. But with a grin, you would shrug. 

"I got the job done..." 

"And I bet you had every single guy in there wrapped around your finger..." 

"Actually my hand was wrapped around him in the first stall of the bathroom." Trevor's hand tightened in your hair. 

"I'm joking, baby, it was my mouth-KIDDING...But I did have to dance with him...The asshole couldn't even wait five minutes without telling me how he'd fuck me..." 

"I don't like that you go in alone." 

"You don't exactly blend in with your predatory gaze..." 

"Can you blame me? I know what you feel like-" 

You leaned closer to him, an elbow at rest at either seat, as he faced you completely. 

"You want to be reminded?" Without a verbal confirmation, you were pulled to him, an uncomfortable climb somehow made graceful by your movements before you were taken over him in a straddle. 

"I wanted to ride you the second I got in the car..." You teased as you pulled his shirt from his chest. 

"Now you can, baby...and I'm expecting you to until you make us both come." 

"Yes, sir..." You taunted as you moved to kiss him before feeling him take a hold to the back of your neck. 

"I could get used to hearing that." 

"Don't get used to it..." You shot back before tangling your tongue alongside his own to convince him into silence. It took so little to do so as he was intoxicated by your entire existence. A scrapper through and through, surviving as necessary alongside questionable morals, you were both cut from the same cloth. But no matter how dirty your hands got in any job to make ends meet, nothing compared to the filth created from your lust. Sweat and cum confused as it dried, another bout in the driver's side of a stolen car as you pulled his belt freely. 

"Don't toy with me." He ordered as you shook your head, keeping your eyes to him, before you drooled on his cock. 

"Get the fuck on top of me-" He groaned as he guided himself in to you. 

"Don't rip the dress, Trevor, I have to return it tomorrow-" 

"Then take it off because you're about to come all over this fucking car-" He assisted the fabric to gather at your waist while you pulled it the remaining distance over your torso. Set to disregard, you were pulled back to him. 

"Tell me baby...tell me how good it is..." 

"So good...SO fucking good, Trevor!" 

"And how about now?" He asked, rooting into you in slow, hard thrusts as you winced to each pistoning. 

"Fuck!" 

"Yeah? That feel good baby?" 

"Then ride me all the way baby...just how I like it..." He squeezed your ass with one free hand as the other was at the back of your neck to keep you from striking the top of the car with any aggressive lift. 

"Baby, shit!" He hissed beneath you. "No clenching-" 

"I bet HE would have liked it if I would have...Bet he would have come by now," You egged him on as he glared, knowing how easily you could make him possessive. You grinned at the idea before he gripped you tighter into him. 

"Keep saying shit like that and you won't get to come unless it's it's front of him-" 

"You don't even know who he is-" You spoke proudly. 

"I have his licence right here baby..." He motioned to the wallet discarded in the backseat. 

"What do you say?" 

"If you move in anyway but to make me come-" 

"Who said you had to move?" He restarted the car's ignition as you rolled your hips and he reversed from the alley. 

"It's not that far-" 

"Trevor!" 

"If you come before we get there, I'll just make you do it again, so think twice unless you want to be overstimulated-" It took only a handful of minutes as you moved in slow inclines and descents over his cock. His motivation fueled by the idea of anyone else's hands being set over you for even a moment-even for a ruse, even for cash. 

"I'm sore, Trevor-" 

"Should have thought of that before teasing me. So make yourself come on my cock baby, or you don't get to tonight...I'll just use that dirty little throat to get me off..." Your eyes tolled as you gripped the headrest tightly behind him as he was sporadic in the flex made beneath you, all to pace himself. 

But no matter how deep of an ache had developed between your thighs, you were too drunk on his cock to want anything but that release. So through pain or discomfort, you pulled you both to the edge. 

"Don't clench around me unless you're gonna come too-" 

"I'm close!" You explained as your hand came into contact with the condensation now set at the window at your side. 

"Then come for me baby...come for me right now...yeah, just like that..." He grunted as you felt him spill inside to what you washed over him in return. But before you were allowed a second to find ease, his eyes fixated to a figure over your shoulder. 

"Shit-" Trevor covered you with his jacket before reaching behind to the wallet. 

"Do you know who this is?!" 

"Should I?" 

"Roland Voight...He's like this.. millionaire..." His jaw cocked as he looked to the penthouse sandwiched between otherwise deserted buildings. 

"What do you say we take a tip for getting a bit too handsy? Who knows what we'll find in there..."

Taglist:

@hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @camilynn @sweetestdesire @onmykneesforrafe @drews1love

#hellraiser trevor #trevor #trevor hellraiser #drew starkey #hellraiser #hellraiser 2022 #hellraisertrevor

[freuleinanna]

flowers most sweet

Masriel AU: Asriel returns from his North expedition, and the first thing he does is pay Marisa a visit.

*I have been looking at this gif for a little too long today so this came out (update the author shared a textless gif 💛)

A word of warning: This is interactive fiction, because sometimes my fever brain just flips. That means that as you read the fic, you'll need to make some choices, and it will change the content to some extent. More details and the fic below the cut! <3

A few important notes:

While usually this format is used for x reader fics, I've spared you the cringe (not to say I haven't written those haha). This is a normal fic, but along the way, as I said, there will be choices to make, and some of them change the details of the story.

I am LAZY. There aren't different endings. It's just a sweet little thing that you can re-run in a different way if you want to get different scenes.

At precisely one point (because I am lazy), the choices you made before will determine the option available to you.

I think, a usual run should be around 1300 words? idk

You may need to click 'Start again' in the top right corner before beginning bc sometimes the instrument's brain doesn't work right

This was written purely for my enjoyment, so they are being silly and in-love okay

There are some achievement badges in the end??

To illustrate on the story map / general visuals a little:

So, you've been warned! Here's the link to the story: https://www.inklewriter.com/stories/155139. Go check it out <3

#also like it's late and i wasn't looking at the keyboard soooo typos #there may be some (or a lot) (or a whole fucking lot idk) #anyway this gif is haunting me and i'm not okay #hdm #hdm fic #interactive fiction #his dark materials #masriel #marisa coulter #asriel belacqua #marisa x asriel #asriel x marisa #young masriel

[sabo-has-my-heart]

Hi Astra. If you ever started picking up Ace requests again, may I have an angst fic where Ace dated fem reader just because of a dare? Reader found out when they both went to a party together, the party host exposing the dare where Ace have to date her for $1000. She got heartbroken and embarrassed so she ran home. Ace, who had fallen in love with her ever since they started dating, regretted his actions. He went after name and tried explaining how much he actually love her and he wouldn't be able to meet her if it wasn't for the stupid dare? Now angered, Name went to give Ace a trial to prove that if Ace actually loved her. Thanks!

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, Ace begging, break ups, second chances

Word Count: 1300

He loved you, or at least, he’d said he loved you, but staring at the people in front of you, it was hard to believe.

“W-what?” you asked, feeling your heart start to crack, it couldn’t be true, it… it had to be a lie, a joke, something!

“Th-they were just joking around, babe, ignore them.” Ace said frantically before turning and glaring at the group of males who sat around laughing. He just had to run into them and, of course, they just had to open their big, stupid mouths. 

“Ace… I… I want the truth.” you demanded, looking at your boyfriend. The two of you hadn’t been dating particularly long, but already you cared deeply for him, and he cared about you, or at least, you thought he did.

“I’m telling you, he only asked you out on a dare, you just saw us pay him.” the leader of this band of idiots said, Ace turning around and giving them a dark look. They were lucky that Ace wasn’t like how he used to be, otherwise he’d be beating them into the dirt right now.

“Ace! Look me in the eyes and tell me the truth!” you demanded once more, the young man turning back towards you, an anxious, scared look in his eyes. You waited, Ace staring at you, clearly too afraid to say much.

“It… it only started out that way, I promise. I love you, truly I do. I… I was only supposed to date you for a month,” Ace said, swallowing hard, “But we’ve been together for almost a year! I didn’t leave you because I love you, I know how it looks, how it sounds, but I swear I love you.” he added frantically, his heart clenching painfully at the sight of tears starting to fall down your cheeks.

“Liar! You’re a liar, Ace! I hate you! I never want to see you again!” you screamed, spinning around and running away. Ace stood there, frozen to the spot as your words seemed to echo in his mind. ‘I hate you’, ‘I never want to see you again’. The next thing he felt was rage. He may have made a mistake, but these idiots had made everything worse. Their words, their taunting, it all had him seeing red. Ace turned around, the dark look in his eyes making the idiots stop laughing.

“Dude, Ace, what’re you so upset about? She’s just some loser chick, dime a dozen, go find another. We’ll even pay you again.” the leader said with a laugh, the sound cut short when he was knocked to the ground, blood dripping from his cut lip. He tried so hard not to be the demon that people seemed to think he was, tried so hard to contain the anger that sometimes still bubbled beneath the surface, but these fools, these ignorant, malicious, motherfuckers had just cost him the best thing to happen to him since he’d met Sabo and Luffy. It was something he wasn’t going to let slide, he couldn’t face you, not yet, especially not when the anger and embarrassment was so fresh in your mind, but he could take his anger out on the ones who’d opened their mouths in the first place, teach them to know when to shut up.

You sobbed, alone in your dark apartment. The lights were off, making the place feel as cold and lonely as you felt. It had been 3 days since you’d found out the truth and you’d really only come out of your room for food when absolutely necessary. Not that you ate much, the thought of what happened made you nauseous. The sound of your phone ringing didn’t even draw you out of your sobbing anymore, you knew who it was. How many missed calls and texts was this now? You’d block him or turn off your phone if you could think straight enough past the pain to do so. But all you could think about was that day, of how much it hurt, of how embarrassed you felt. A small notification sound, another voicemail. It was a few hours later that you heard pounding on your front door, pulling yourself out of bed. Who was visiting you? Hadn’t you told all your friends that you wanted to be left alone? Answering the door, you looked up, fresh tears gathering in your eyes.

“Y/n, I-” Ace didn’t get to say much more before you were attempting to slam the door in his face. Not that he hadn’t expected that, his hand immediately coming up to stop the door, “Please, Y/n, let me say something. I’m begging you! I know I don’t deserve it, but please, please just let me say something. I’ll… I’ll do anything. I… I’ll leave and never come back if you decide that’s what you want after you hear me out. Just please, let me in, let me… let me explain.” he begged, his broken, pain filled eyes staring into yours. Pain, ha! He’d been the one to hurt you, yet he was feeling pain? Still, it was sincere, he regretted hurting you, that was worth… something, right? Slowly, you opened the door, letting him in, not that he immediately entered, hesitating for a moment as if afraid of entering. Even before the two of you stood in your living room, he stood there looking very much like a kicked puppy.

“I… I’m sorry, about… what you heard, about how this all started. I was being stupid that day, but I promise, I truly do love you, I swear. I know it sounds bad, and it looks bad, and I’m a total ass for asking you out on a dare, but I… part of me’s happy that I did, because it meant I got to meet you and see how amazing you are. You’re my everything, I promise, I love you so much. I wasn't lying all those times I told you I love you, everything I told my brothers that Luffy blurted out to you was true, please, I… I’ll do anything to have you back, to hear you call me ‘Firefly’ again.” Ace pleaded. Firefly, your nickname for him after you’d caught him playing with matches. You knew you still cared for him, still love him, it was why this hurt so much, why you’d spent the last 3 days sobbing. 

“I… I can’t just take you back.” you said, looking away, hearing the thud of Ace falling to all fours. Looking back, Ace was on his knees, head pressed to the floor in a bow.

“Please! I fucked up, I’ll do anything you want! I… whatever it takes!” he swore, surprising you, did you really mean that much to him that he’d go to these lengths? Not even another dare would be enough for a person to go this far. Kneeling down next to him, you hesitantly brushed the tips of your fingers over his arm, the young man looking up at you.

“One chance, that’s all I’m giving you. If you so much as falter or stumble, you’ll fail and it’ll be well and truly over. No more chances, no more begging, we’ll be done.” you stated firmly, Ace just nodding rapidly. Anything for you, you were his love, his life, if soulmates existed, you were his. 

“Whatever it takes, whatever you want.” Ace swore, still not standing up until you offered him your hand, the both of you standing up together, though he still looked very much like a kicked puppy. He probably would for a while, at least until you gave him that smile that he loved so much, one that wasn’t filled with pain. But if he could have you back, it would be absolutely worth it. 

#one piece #one piece ace #portgas d. ace #fire fist ace #ace x reader #fire fist ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace #angst #hurt/comfort

[userkhael]

kiss it better

Summary: Your annoyingly handsome brother’s best friend comes over for game night.

Word Count: 1300+

Warnings: RPF, FLUFFFFF

A/N: Kiss It Better by Rihanna hasn’t left my brain since I heard it. I was listening to it while writing this. I just wanted to make something light and a bit angsty just to quench my never ending desire for creating fake scenarios in my head LMAO. I hope you like it. Comments and reblogs are ALWAYS appreciated.

PS: Finally making a story using the POV I posted ♥

After a long day at work, you shouldn’t really do anything else but sleep. But you aren’t living alone and your brother is a huge pain in the ass every Thursday. You can forgive the loud banter and the incessant noises him and his friends make whenever they play their stupid game but the never-ending sexist remarks of his asshole friends really draws the straw. He doesn’t know about any of it and you dread every Thursday that comes.

You wipe the sleep from your eyes and force yourself to take a quick shower and eat before bed. You wake up terribly grumpy without it. It’s like you’re a whole ‘nother person. Rummaging the fridge for milk, you pull out the cereal off one of the drawers. 

The door opens and you close your eyes, as if bracing yourself for “bro” impact. But it’s been five seconds and while your head is down, you listen to your surroundings.

“You feeling okay?” The voice is too near to ignore and when you open your eyes, you almost drop the bowl in your hand.

It’s Henry, one of your brother’s best friends. One of the decent ones. And yet he doesn’t make an effort to correct his friends, that’s why I also hate him. He’s built like a God and his face is chiseled like the Creator really took his time to perfect him. That makes me very annoyed. I hate how the butterflies in my stomach always flutter whenever he’s around.

“I’m good. Only you?” You point at him and he nods, smiling. God, even his smile is perfect. You don’t say another word and you both stand there like statues staring at each other. You know he cares about you like a sibling and sometimes you make it awkward for yourself because you can’t admit that you have a crush on him.

“Yeah, the other guys aren’t free this week.” He fiddles fingers and you almost think it’s because he’s near you. Guys like him have a line of women worshiping at his feet. He can pick one and get his flavor of the day.

“Thank God, I can sleep soundly today.” You comment and he smiles before your brother calls out for him in the living room. He smiles one more time, stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets and turned on his heel, looking back at you one more time. You smile back at him and eat your cereal while your chest is beating ever so loudly.

After eating, you tried lying in bed and resting your eyes but sleep never came. All you thought about is how Henry’s lips perfectly move while he speaks, or how his muscles flex whenever he raises his hand. His constant visit to your brother doesn’t help your feelings at all. He’s always been your crush since you’re a nerdy twelve year old and he’s already twenty.Way too experienced but most of all way, way too far out your league. Standing up from your bed, you decide sleep is not for you today and walk towards the kitchen, intent on getting soda from the fridge.

But you almost regret stepping out of your room because Henry’s back is to you and he’s apparently doing the dishes in your apartment. 

“You shouldn’t be doing that.” You say and he doesn’t look back but you can feel the smile on his face.

Opening the fridge and retrieving a soda can, you peek in the living room and see the game is in pause and your brother is nowhere to be found. You’re still looking at him as he loads everything in the dishwasher. Opening the soda can while looking at him seem to be a plausible route at this point but being dumb as you are, your nail got caught between and your flesh got cut by the sharp end. Well, hey, at least you opened your soda.

You hiss because it stung when the soda bubbled up and reached the surface of the can. Taunting you like an idiot. You shake your hand and inspect it but it decides to bleed like a motherfucker. Henry looks back and sees the stream of blood coming from your stupid nail and his face morphs into something you can never understand. He moves at lightspeed and retrieves the first aid kit in no time. He pulls your hand and looks at it intently. 

“Throw away that soda, Y/N.” He says annoyed, dabbing cotton your nail, commanding you like some slave. The damage is worse than you let on. The metal sliced the flesh beside your nail and it wouldn’t stop bleeding.

You drink from the soda one more time, not caring about what Henry said. He snatched the can from your other hand and looked at you, his face red with anger.

“I said. Throw. It. Away.” He emphasized every word and you felt the shivers down your spine. Him putting a bandage on your poor nail just amplified everything. Before he can even lock the bandage, you pull your hand away.

“I can do it myself.” You say, taking the soda from his hand and throwing it away. You take the tape from the kit and sit down on the couch. But then you forgot the scissors and now you can’t cut it with your hand or teeth.

“You’re so fucking stubborn, you know that?” Henry walks to you, places the kit on the coffee table and kneels in front of you, pulling your injured hand again, now finishing what he started. He pours alcohol in a fresh cotton and wipes your elbow up to the palm of your hand without breaking eye contact. You didn’t realize you bleed that much in a few minutes.

“Thank you.” You clear your throat and pull your hand away, not looking at him. But then you feel his hand on your arm, not on a tight grip but definitely possessive. You can’t help but look at him and his lips look so kissable at this distance. You take a deep breath and his breath hitches. The tension between you is building like a volcano waiting to explode. You didn’t move for a few seconds until his lips crashed into yours. Both your tongue and lips melded into each other so easily. You admit this wasn’t your first kiss but you wished it was. You wished it was him you shared all your firsts with.

“My, uhm, my brother —” Pulling yourself away from him and think sane for a minute. If ever your brother finds out, he would go nuclear on your ass and his.

“He got called at work.” He said and you looked at him, not believing what he said. He runs his tongue on his bottom lip and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen in a long time.

“Why did you stay?” I asked, trying to still my beating heart.

“I promised to do the dishes and uhm, I was hoping to see you before I leave.”

You look at him funny and he chuckles. “Your brother is going to kill me for doing this but fuck it.”

He caresses your face and this time his kisses are softer, more passionate. And you hold onto his neck while he carries you to your room. Your room is exceptionally dim and you like it that way.

“You can say no right now and I’ll leave. But if you want this too, say something.” He puts his thumb on your lips and it felt like heat radiated throughout your body for the first time.

“Yes. It’s always been yes with you.”

His smile is from ear to ear and I can’t help but giggle like a schoolgirl at his reaction. He kissed your whole body and made you feel like you’re doing this for the first time ever.

“Your brother will be so mad when he finds out.”

“Well, he can kiss my ass.”

He wags a finger at me and kisses your neck and ears, his hands on both of your ass cheeks, while he whispers, “This ass is mine now so he can’t kiss it.”

#henry cavill #henry cavill one shot #henry cavill fic #rpf fanfic #rpf fluff #henry cavill rpf #one shot #khaeltxt #khaelwrites #fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic

[ironwhumper359]

The Tenets of Growth: Part 2

Service to the Order

Prev: The Path of Cultivation || Next: Flowering

CW: Imprisonment, allusions to torture, religious themes, religion used to justify torture.

Word count: 1300~

---

Not for the first time in the last week, the thief cursed himself for getting distracted on the job. If he’d just stuck with the haul he already had, he would have been out of the house by the time that lousy merchant’s wife had come home and seen him trying to lever that stupid painting out the window. 

But no, his eyes had been too big for his stomach, and now he was paying the price for it a hundred times over. 

Because he hadn’t just been caught, no no, that would have been too simple, he’d been caught after nine other burglaries with the same signature had been pulled off in the last two months. It didn’t matter that only three of the ten total had actually been him; the others had been run by his crew, but the guards were happy to pin the entire spree on his shoulders alone. There was a chance that the judge would have let him off a little easier if he gave up the hiding places of his associates, but he wasn’t an idiot. Snitching on his team was a surefire way to make sure he didn’t have a team anymore after he was released from prison. No one wanted to work with a rat. 

Though at this point, it looked like there wasn’t going to be a release from prison. 

“Hey, you! Housebreaker!” a voice called, and the thief looked up to see one of the prisoners in a cell across from him, a big burly man with a gruff voice leaning his hands through the bars of his cell. “How long did the old man give you?” the man asked, and the thief grimaced. 

“That long, eh?” asked the man in the cell to his left. “S’pose it makes sense, them putin’ you on the hook for all them robberies and all.” 

“No,” the thief said with a frown. “That is, no, it’s not a long prison sentence.” 

“Then what are you grimacing about?” asked the burly man. “What’d you get?”

“Do we have to talk about this?” the thief protested, and the burly man shrugged. 

“Not much else to do in here but chat.”

“And not much else to chat about ‘sides what we’re in for and how long we’re in,” the second man added, and the thief sighed. 

“You are hereby sentenced to enter the Service of the Holy Order of Perivyta.” 

The judge’s voice echoed in his head, bringing a swirl of unwelcome memories and emotions with it. The sunlit room filled with rows of plants, his mother’s pale face surrounded by dark earth, the priest in the black robe squeezing his shoulder.

“You must rejoice in this time of Pruning, my boy. Trust in Perivyta’s will; it’s what your mother would want.” 

Surely it was his imagination, the way the voices of the judge and the priest sounded the same in his mind? 

“They said I’m going to be entered in the Service of the Order,” he said aloud, shaking his head to clear it. He expected to hear the same raucous commiserating that the other prisoners usually displayed, but to his surprise, an uncomfortable silence fell over the room. 

“Wait, you said you’d only been caught the one time before,” the man to his left said, and he sounded…scared? “You wasn’t lyin’, was ya?” 

“No,” the thief said, frowning. “Why?”

“It’s like you said though, Dixon,” the burly man cut in. “They put him on the hook for all those burglaries. Maybe they figure that ought to count for two.” 

“Or maybe they’re makin’ an example of him,” Dixon mused. 

“What are you two talking about?” the thief asked. “Why does it matter that I was caught once before?”

“How long did you say you was in the city for?” Dixon asked, and the thief grit his teeth. 

“Five years,” he said. “Though I don’t see what that has to do with-”

“Five years here, and you don’t know about getting sent into the Order?” the burly man asked. “I thought you said you were running with a crew?”

“I mean, for this job I was,” the thief admitted. “But I usually work alone. This job was supposed to get me connections.” 

The burly man let out a low whistle.

“That’s a rough break then, son. Things shouldn’t have turned out this way for you.” 

“Will you please explain what you’re on about?” the thief asked. “You’re not making any sense.” 

“The first time you’re convicted of a crime, they let you off relatively easy,” said a quiet voice, and the thief turned. 

In the cell to his right, a thin man was sitting in the corner, one leg stretched out in front of him and his head tucked against his chest. 

“They throw you in a cell for a few months or years, whatever they think is fit for the crime you committed. The second time you’re convicted, they’re not too pleased that they let you out into the world and you went right back to your previous ways.” 

“Second sentencin’ is worse,” Dixon agreed. “You get fed way less, and the guards are even rougher with ya’.” 

“It goes beyond rough,” the burly man said. “My old partner, he got convicted twice. Said he was beaten within an inch of his life. He left the city when they finally let him out. Said he didn’t want to risk being in their hands ever again.” 

“The third time,” the thin man continued quietly, “you’ve proven to them that you’ll never be anything but a criminal. And that is when they send you to the Order.” 

“Tough break you got, gettin’ sent on your second go,” Dixon said, and he sounded genuinely sorry. “You seem a decent enough fella.” 

The thief frowned. He had no love for the Order these days, not by a long shot, but the way these men spoke about it didn’t match at all with the hazy memories of carved oak doors, hearty vegetable soup, and his mother’s warm smile. 

“What…what happens when you’re sent to the Order?” he asked, and Dixon and the burly man exchanged looks. 

“Nobody knows,” Dixon said eventually. “They say that it’s ‘rehabilitation.’ But no one who gets sent there ever gets seen again.” 

“Never?”

“Not ever,” the burly man agreed. “Some folks say they get killed…used as sacrifices in rituals and the like.”

“Yeah, but my old crew boss says if that was true, they’d just take the fellas that get sentenced to death for shit like murder n’ treason and the like,” Dixon argued. “No point in hidin’ it when they’re already choppin’ people’s heads off. He figures that they keep ‘em alive for some reason or another.” 

“Maybe they sell people off to slavers,” the burly man offered up. “It would explain why no one’s ever seen on the streets afterwards.”

“It…it could actually be rehabilitation,” the thief suggested lamely. “The Order is supposed to be about…you know, light and growth and stuff. Not hurting and killing. What if people are just-” 

“My sister is a devout woman,” the thin man interrupted. “And she’s given birth eight times in her thirty years. Her sixth child, she had entered into the Order when he turned thirteen. Given to the Goddess as tribute.”

The man shook his head.

“Didn’t see hide nor hair of that boy for nearly five years; they didn’t even tell us where he was sent to work. I’ve only seen the kid once since, while I was still in my traveling days. Lad spoke to me like we had no history; acted totally out of character. I’d have thought he was a stranger if it weren’t for the fact he had my sister’s freckles scattered across his face and her same blue eyes.”

The man lifted his head, and looked the thief directly in the eyes.

“I don't know what happens in those Nurseries of theirs, but mark my words, boy. It's nothing good.”

---

Prev: The Path of Cultivation || Next: Flowering

Tenets of Growth Masterlist

Author's Note: Everyone, give a hearty welcome to our Whumpee Number 2! What's his name? We'll get to that, don't worry. First we have to hurt him some more ;) Aster will be returning next chapter, then we have one more with just whumpee no.2 before our fated pair finally meet...and then the real fun begins! Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in this story, I'd be happy to do so!

#whump #whump writing #whump fic #whump scenario #imprisoned #whumpee #multiple whumpees #whumpee turned whumper #multiple whumpers #tenets of growth #cedar