#i grew up around a time when it was still mostly only the braver that came out publicly

[whirlwindimagines]

Hey! <3 it's me again, the anon who requested the scenary of Wolfwood sister x Vash. Thank you sooooo much for taking my request, it made my day! <3

I'm writing again to request you for another scenario if it's not too much trouble 👉🏻👈🏻 and instead of being something romantic, it would be more like a family reunion.

The scenario would be with Vash reuniting with his sister (that would mean that instead of just Vash and Knives, in this scenario it would be Vash, Knives and reader, that means, they're triplets) who he believed to be dead since the Big Fall. How would he react upon finding her and realizing that the little girl he protected and cared for when he was a child was now a full grown woman who knew how to fight and shoot and that all kind of stuff?

I also thought that this scenario would be set in chapter 9 when Vash wakes up on "Home".

I hope all of this makes enough sense 👉🏻👈🏻😔 again, thank you so much for taking my "Wolfwood sister x Vash" request! I loved it! Hope you day is going well! See ya! 💕✨

I’m glad you enjoyed your previous request! I had fun writing it, and I had fun writing this one as well lol this one got away from me, I just kept adding to it and adding to it. Might make a part two with Nai if anyone's interested :) Also spoilers I guess? Also, i'm sorry but the twins with a sister screams the song Hey Brother by Avicii

‘Oh if the sky comes falling down’ 

Vash x Sister!Reader 

You are pacing, you have been for a while now after all this time you thought you’d be a little braver. But it's like you’re that little girl again, scared and always crying and needing to run to your big brothers at the slightest inconvenience.

But it’s been decades now, and you haven’t had the privilege of doing that since before the fall. You remember it like it was yesterday, Rem, the escape pod, and then the desert. You were separated from Nai and Vash at that point. Waking up in the desert alone, everything on fire, you just ran unsure of what to do and where to go. 

You were more like Nai in the regard you didn’t need much to survive, so you wandered everywhere and anywhere with no real purpose, no goals only memories…

You were hiding, sometimes the ship seemed so cold. You didn’t want Nai and Vash to see you crying, it was pathetic! And not even for a good reason, wiping your eyes and sighing you feel all cried out. Someone calls your name, Vash you realize. Wiping your eyes harshly, you stand taking in deep breaths, before answering. 

Vash comes flying around the corner his face lighting up when he sees you, but then he frowns looking at your face. You try to smile but it’s a little watery. “Are you okay?” You nod not trusting your voice, Vash sighs and grabs you by the arm to pull you along.

You start to protest, but you close your mouth at the sound of a piano playing. Your face lights up as Vash pulls you into the room where Nai is playing, he was the best at piano out of the three of you. 

Pulling from Vash’s grip, you move forward to join Nai. He makes room for you on the bench but rolls his eyes at Vash as he pushes you into himself to make room for the three of you. You laugh then, content to sit between them and listen to them both play. 

Nai nudges you, and with some encouragement from Vash, you join in. The piano was not meant for three people to play at once, so it was more of a mess of notes as the three of you stumble over each other's hands. You feel much better now, and don’t notice the look Vash and Nai share over your head. 

You are pulled from the memory when a gentle hand rest on your shoulder, and turning to see Luidas smiling face. “He’s awake.” You thank her, watching her walk away, once she’s out of sight you sigh leaning against the wall and sliding down it to sit.

It was still surreal being here on this mostly operating SEED ship, staying here you could pretend the fall never happened, that you grew up here safe and happy. But you didn’t and you happened upon this ship by pure accident. 

Your luck it seemed had finally run out; you don’t know how many weeks you’d been going for at this point when you collapsed out in the dunes. When you came to you all you could feel was panic because there was no way you were on a SEED ship, you looked the same you were still grown you had all your things it just wasn’t possible. 

Luida knew what you were the instant she met you, it was odd and, in a way, comforting for someone to know your secret. She showed you then some old photographs, and well you simply couldn’t believe it, “That’s Vash.” You said voice slightly awed; she sat down next to you watching you with a soft smile. “Your y/n, he’s mentioned you before, well he thought you were…” she trails off, not having to say it because you thought the same of them. Nai isn’t in any of the photos, and you are simply not brave enough to ask. 

You stand now shaking your head, living in the past wasn’t an option right now. Vash was alive and here right on the other side of that door all you had to do was walk towards it. With a deep breath, you enter he’s sitting up on the bed messing with his arm. He doesn’t say anything, he probably thinks you are one of his friends that you came with. The group you’ve been avoiding for the most part. 

He looks different, older you’re sure you do too. You don’t know what to say, “Vash?” His name you cringe at your watery tone, not expecting to already be crying. He looks up surprised, your eyes meet and his jaw drops. You jump when he stands suddenly, he takes a step forward, stops, and says your name. 

You sob then, moving forward and throwing your arms around him, you’re just crying because you can’t believe it. He’s here, he’s alive and you don’t have to be alone anymore. Your big brother standing right before you, the tears just kept coming. You had made a vow to yourself that you'd no longer be weak and that you wouldn't cry all the time. But none of that mattered, besides you think this was a pretty good reason to cry.

Vash is too stunned to move because it’s you, his baby sister, alive you look different, your older that’s obvious but it’s in your face less alive, less joyful like you haven’t smiled in a long time. He doesn't understand how you are here, on this ship. Home. He wants to ask and needs to know what you’ve been doing all this time. Where have you been? How have you survived? You were the youngest, but you were in Nai's words closer to perfect than he was.

But Vash doesnt ask, he can't even speak, instead, he wraps his arms around you and cries. 

He pushes you back gently to look at your face, “your alive.” It’s the only thing he can say, “so are you.” You choke out, and you look away scared to ask but you have to know. “What about Nai?” You feel him tense, “it’s complicated.” He whispers, leading you over to the bed so the two of you can sit side by side.

You're confused, but let him continue. Vash begins to tell you what he’s been doing all this time, you doubt he’s telling you the whole truth and probably doesn’t want to share the gory details. You let out a ‘huff’ you’re sure no matter how long you’ve been alive he’ll always treat you like a baby sister. But you don’t interrupt, then he begins telling you about Nai. 

Eyes wide you simply can’t believe it, you are not naive you’ve heard strange rumors, hell you’ve seen some strange things as well. But all this death and destruction… was Nai really capable of that? You want to deny it, but you know Vash isn’t lying he would never lie to you. You sigh leaning your head on his shoulder, “well I’m here now, will figure it out together.” 

“Together?” Vash asks with a small voice, you smile “yeah, oh you’re not getting rid of me any time soon. We’re a family, and we have to stick together.” You say it’s a little childish, but you think you deserve to think a little childishly right now. You feel Vash begin to pull away, but you grab his arm not letting him get too far.

“It’s too dangerous, it’s best if you stay here.” You roll your eyes, and you give him a look. “Seriously? So, you think I’ve been holed up in a cave all these years? I’ve been out there surviving all these years by myself!” Your tone is bitter and he flinches, you soften. It’s not his fault, everything had been so chaotic after the fall, “please don’t treat me like a kid, I’m not that little girl anymore.” And you mean if you were not able to be her anymore, not since the fall. 

Vash looks at you really looks at you, and he knows your right. He sighs, “I don’t think I’d be able to stop you anyway.” He says with a laugh, you smile. Right now, everything was perfect, and while your family would never be complete not truly, it still hurt to think of Rem, and thinking of Nai was also painful. But for right, you’d hold on to this happiness and wouldn’t let go.

#trigun #trigun stampede imagine #trigun stampede x reader #trigun stampede #vash x sister!reader #vash the stampede x reader #vash imgaine #vash imagines #vash x reader #vash the stampede

[eldritchazure]

here’s part 3!! it’s a bit shorter i think but ya know

in the third year, alrighty stralka had long lost count by that point, things had almost settled into a new kind of normal. they scavenged for food and resources, stole when they needed to, and fought with other urchins and sometimes even local law enforcement when to defend themselves and their meager supplies. their hair grew wild and unrecognizable from the neat bowlcuts they used to be. they acted more rihannsu than vulcan in those days, even when they weren’t in public. they no longer spoke of things like their parents. they were each other’s family, and talk of their old life would only cause them grief, and grief caused distraction, and distraction was deadly.

stralka and cavair did most of the work, because they were the oldest and strongest, even occasionally taking on odd jobs from kind people who were willing to look past their unfortunate appearances and stralka’s strange accent. occasionally, the jobs were from less charitable people and were of dubious legality now and again, but they took them anyway because they paid more. with such basic medical tools, stralka had amassed quite the collection of scars. his left ear had so many notches in it, it was just shy of being shredded. cavair hadn’t faired much better. meanwhile, the others guarded their little group of lean-tos and took care of sekal.

t’miva was the loudest and most aggressive, and she was left in charge when stralka and cavair were out. she often pretended to be braver than she was, and her anger mirrored stralka’s. they were both fiery and had a willingness to get their hands dirty to protect the others. she looked up to stralka, and that made stralka very nervous.

vantik, who now had one less eye than when he started, seemed to have an affinity for medicine. at the very least, whenever stralka cauterized a stab wound with a heated up knife, vantik did his best to clean and bandage up the wound. and since no one had died yet, they all assumed vantik was doing a pretty good job. he and t’miva weren’t related, but they may as well have been twins. they had always been close as a result of being the same age.

sava was quieter than the other two. they were clever and the fastest of the bunch, and therefore were the best thief of the bunch. whenever money was especially tight, sava wandered unassumingly into a crowded street and came back with pockets that clinked lightly as they walked.

sekal was the baby of the group. they all worried about him constantly, and called him sek’kam, despite the fact that he was probably too old to be called such a childish nickname by now. he neither protested nor endorsed the nickname. he did not speak much at all. he only communicated through the limited rihan sign language he’d learned from cavair, or, more often, the familial bonds they shared.

cavair had yet to be included in the family bonds, but he was on his way. at first, the others had been extremely skittish around him, especially sekal, but eventually they warmed up to him. he was the one who taught vantik how to disinfect and bandage wounds, and sava how to pickpocket. he also had also been teaching them rihan, so they were all mostly fluent in it by then. he was especially close with stralka in particular. the others were like siblings to stralka, and cavair was his best friend. stralka hadn’t really had a best friend before, and it was nice. they had saved each other’s lives so many times by now that they’d both lost count. they were partners in crime, literally. and cavair was still so easy to talk to. the two were nearly inseparable. cavair insisted on taking the night watch so that stralka could actually catch a few hours of  sleep. stralka insisted that cavair eat all of his food instead of giving it to the others. stralka knew that if anything ever happened to him, cavair would take care of the others. the first time stralka mind melded with him reinforced this.

cavair had been badly injured while on a job, and stralka couldn’t move him. they had to wait for vantik to come to them with their makeshift medkit. cavair’s face was twisted up in pain and the strip of sleeve stralka had ripped to staunch the bleeding was soaked through with green. stralka was at a loss. he hated how helpless he felt. he hated seeing cavair in so much pain. it felt almost like a physical ache. he scrambled for an idea as he murmured empty platitudes of “everything is going to be okay” and “you are going to be alright”. if only he could somehow ease cavair’s burden. he’s gladly take on some of cavair’s agony if he could. and then he realized that oh, he actually could do that. he’d momentarily forgotten he could do that. (sometimes it was almost like he forgot he was vulcan at all. and that was… unsettling, to say the least.)

he presented the plan to cavair, and though it took cavair a moment to formulate a response through the likely blinding pain, he assented. stralka took a moment to center himself with some difficulty (he usually didn’t bother these days unless he had to initiate a mind meld with one of the others and had fallen a bit out of practice), before moving his fingertips to cavair’s meld points and murmuring, “my mind to your mind, your thoughts to my thoughts.”

stralka’s first impression was fire.

it was, to say the least, most unpleasant.

stralka was very inexperienced (and as such probably shouldn’t have attempted this in the first place), but he managed to take on some of the flame so that it was easier them both to manage. after the initial burning pain, it really wasn’t so bad. it was actually… kind of nice. it was easy. distantly, stralka was aware that cavair’s breathing had evened out, and that they were breathing in sync now.

cavair showed stralka his mother and all of the places he’d lived in and people he’d met growing up, and stralka showed cavair the little sister he’d had in another life, and the beautiful, larger-than-life rock formations on the beaches of t’paal that he’d hung around and explored as a child.

they stayed that way, distracting each other to the flame that was still simmering in the background, until vantik arrived.

afterwards, stralka discovered a bond that hadn’t been there before. it was a new kind; it didn’t feel quite the same as the familial bonds he had with the others. it was golden and it glowed and when he poked curiously at it, it was warm. stralka smiled ever-so-slightly to himself, and knew the expression was mirrored on cavair’s face.

#tw blood #tw injury #this one is a bit less heavy than the previous two #we get to be better acquainted with some of the other characters!! #no one died!! #lets hope it stays that way haha!! ha. #fourth and final installment for this little series will be out tomorrow hopefully!! #star trek ocs #vulcans #romulans #star trek #lt. cmdr. stralka #cavair

[flesh-into--gear]

whenever I see my lgbt dudes on here posting things about modern lgbt shows, movies, music, etc, I always begin to feel kinda like a failure as a trans/lgbt person. I haven't seen any of these things. I'm barely immersed in the lgbt culture at all; most of it that I know is all either from my birth-through-early-teen years, which really only consists of the middle of the riot grrrl movement which was the early 90s, and whatever misguided but extremely important at the time (read: Will and Grace, Xena was on the way out by the time I was able to watch it and this was before you could really just watch reruns whenever you wanted) was on television later.

(I really can't tell you what Will and Grace secretly meant to me, as a young teen, in a time when that was pretty much the only show that didn't have lgbt people specifically as a punchline in a straight narrative. even when I didn't understand what I was feeling. sure, it's dated now and it definitely has its issues, but the context of the media environment at the time was so abysmally straight and mocking of lgbt people... you had to be there to understand it I guess.)

I didn't have the exposure to a lot of that stuff. I only had cursory exposure to the RG movement; I only recently started digging back into that after playing Gone Home which made me bawl like a baby and being reminded that that was around the time I was born.

I'm so happy that all of you now have so many artists and pieces of media to watch and listen and read and enjoy. and I say you guys because for some reason, despite being a trans person, I... have a really hard time actively getting into anything lgbt centric that isn't music, nor do I really seek it out. and I think it's because I'm scared of what that means for me.

because I still feel like an outsider. I still feel like an imposter, despite the fact I've been on estrogen and blockers for three months now, and all my friends and select family know that I'm trans. a part of me... I spent many, many years being completely emotionally and mentally shut off, in a severe depression, and was suicidal. I knew I didn't feel normal. I didn't know what I was. I knew I felt nothing. and would often say "if I could chose, I would have been born a girl." I didn't know what that meant. I grew up in a small backwater ass rural southern town in Virginia. "trans" wasn't even anything I knew was a thing until I was 19 at college. and that sent me spiraling even further. because I didn't know if that was me, but I knew it felt right and I knew people would hate me because of it. especially all of my friends at the time, save for two. and so I pushed it back down and forgot about it, but it kept getting harder and harder to hold back.

I spent another five years actively closeting myself because I didn't feel like I deserved it, like I didn't belong there either. like I was making it up. basically just reinforcing a lot of the things I hadn't necessarily been told, but had been suggested to me with other events in my life that we won't get into here. and when I finally came out to myself and my friend who would eventually become my partner, I had a full on break. and when I came out to my sister, I had another full on break. I'm awful at doing anything that benefits me, another byproduct of my upbringing, and this to me was so hugely personal, clearly I couldn't deserve it and I was just faking it for attention. I was an ugly bearded hairy dude who is still (some of it is coming back) losing his hair. I would never be a "real" girl nor did I deserve to be because of it. it was selfish and stupid and I should just keep being a boy like I was told when me putting on my sister's recital costumes started getting a little weird once I wasn't 5.

I've been on tumblr since 2010, when I was 18. off and on sometimes, but overall, consistently on since 2010. and this site was my first true exposure to my community. and who I was as a person. and so I started looking into it on here. finding trans people (which was kinda hard at the time still?), and a lot of lgbt people. and it was kinda like coming home. I discovered myself here, really. I did. and that's stupid to say, but this was my first real exposure to who I was. and I still felt like an imposter, despite what every bone in my body was screaming at me.

and so cut to current me, sitting in a bathtub, extremely hormonal, watching @rozecrest (I'm so glad you made that post on antipollenkids letting people know you switched, thank you! I hadn't seen you post anything and I was hoping nothing had happened to you) and @ezurad and @numawaffle and so many others on my feed posting these modern pieces of media that I would have killed to have had when I was younger. I kinda wonder if I would be different if I had had them, but that's another thing for another day.

and despite you guys constantly posting all of these amazing things I love reading and seeing, I still feel undeserving of consuming them. I also get hyper-emotional, and stuff tends to stick with me months after. I still have only partially recovered from Gone Home because that hit so personally and that was six months ago. dont even get me started on "just a phase". and I don't know if any of that is problematic, I'm too out of the loop on that because I'm from the before-times but hoo did it shoot me right through my poor heart because that really was it. and in that respect I'm also terrified of it. because I know what it means for me. I'm 28, but I still have a good 14 years worth of untapped, stunted emotional development to go through because I didn't have a support network or parents willing to talk about things like that then.

I guess I'm just afraid that by diving in head first, I'm going to traumatize myself. I'm scared of the emotions and the weight that come with things like Moonlight. I'm scared of what it'll make me feel and what really it'll do to me. because I'm still extremely emotionally compromised because of my laundry list of mental health issues, and I still feel like an imposter in my own skin.

I don't know what the point of this was, but it felt weirdly cathartic to write out.

if anyone has any.... lighter? lgbt media recs please give them to me because I really am desperate for some. maybe get myself adjusted to actually allowing myself to feel emotion again. maybe it'll help me regain a piece of what I lost when I was suicidal.

also: I really want to say this. I see all of you in your own skin, fiercely defiant and unafraid of who you are and what you feel, and I just want you guys to know that that makes me so immeasurably happy and proud. I know I don't know really any of you, but I'm proud of you and I hope you all never lose that.

#i grew up around a time when it was still mostly only the braver that came out publicly #and a lot of this is dealing with internalized emotions and upbringing in a church #its difficult being an older late bloomer who never had context for this #t

[delimeful]

Helpless (2)

the next chapter in the drider virgil fic!

warnings: spiders, slight dehumanizing language, assumptions/jumping to conclusions

-

Logan was certain that he’d tracked down his quarry.

Of course, he’d also been certain the last two times he’d found promising evidence around a swath of woods, but this time was different.

He had learned plenty while traversing through the varied lands of his kingdom, and while physical evidence was ideal, word of mouth was one of the most useful tools a researcher could use to find leads.

That was part of the reason why he’d been so careful to observe typical travelers for weeks before his departure, the reason he was wearing worn, cheap fabric and staying at the second-cheapest room at this town’s inn, despite having plenty of money still hidden on his person. He didn’t want a single rumor about a suspiciously rich noble traveling alone.

The last thing he needed was for his investigative journey to be interrupted by bandits, or worse, would-be do-gooders attempting to return the missing prince to his place in line for the throne.

Logan resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the very thought, putting aside the last half of his travel rations and stopping at the edge of town to stare into the woods beyond. He checked his compass habitually, and he was pointed firmly westward, exactly towards the point of the woods that were occupied by a dangerous monster, according to the barkeep that Logan had plied for information last night at supper.

The whole town knew of it, even the younger residents, which was a point in favor of the creature really existing rather than just being another folk tale.

There was one other potential source on the creature, a town outcast going by the way others’ noses wrinkled at the mention of him, but Logan was more than ready to begin investigating for himself, and the odds that the outcast actually knew anything were low, anyhow.

Decided, he headed into the forest, prepared for the day-long trek that was sure to follow. If he was prone to less scientific notations, he might have jotted down that he had a good feeling about this particular town.

Exactly an hour and a half later, Logan had found himself almost entirely immobilized by layers and layers of gossamer threads strewn about the trees.

Needless to say, he was ecstatic.

Even the foolish manner in which he’d landed himself stuck in such an obvious trap couldn’t dampen his spirits, not when faced with undeniable proof that there was in fact a drider in these woods. He’d been too hasty in his attempt to collect some of the biological material, and by yanking too hard, had ended up pulled forwards into the thick of the intricate spider web.

His immobility was a bit concerning, but mostly frustrating, since he couldn’t reach for his journal to note down the surprising level of the webbing’s tensile strength. Still, proper scientists had to be prepared to hold onto their observations for as long as it took for them to be able to write them down.

Besides, he could hardly complain. His current predicament practically guaranteed that he would actually get to see the creature!

-

There was a person stuck in his webs, and Virgil was freaking out about it.

It had never happened before. Virgil very specifically made the webs closer to town thick and opaque so that any passerby would see them and avoid this exact situation.

Virgil peered around the cluster of bushes he had half-flattened himself behind. The stranger didn’t seem too panicked, at least, going by the way that the web barely swayed with his presence. He didn’t even seem to be breathing hard, which was… admittedly sort of strange.

Skies above, what if this was a trap? Virgil turned his head sharply to scan his surroundings, wary of human hunters suddenly popping out of the undergrowth.

Several moments of silence, and even with all his senses pushed to their farthest, he couldn’t detect anything. It seemed the only one trapped here was the human.

A pang of guilt curled unpleasantly in his first stomach. He grimaced, wishing desperately that Patton was here to mitigate the utter terror Virgil was surely about to inflict on this guy.

No point in drawing it out. He rose up to his full height, grateful that the human had gotten stuck facing the opposite direction, and quietly crept up behind him. All he needed to do was announce his presence and let the human know he wasn’t going to hurt them, but he was immediately distracted at the sight of just how tangled his webs had grown.

“How does one human manage to touch every single support thread at the same time?” he asked, voice incredulous.

The human stiffened, and he couldn’t help but tense in response, cursing his big mouth.

… Really though, he spent hours crafting these, and now this one would have to be completely reconstructed!

“Are you the monster spoken of in town?”

The measured voice snapped Virgil out of his thoughts as easy as a clap of thunder, and he shuffled a bit from side to side nervously. His many steps must have been louder than he’d thought, because the human immediately attempted to twist around and see him.

He failed, naturally, because Virgil’s threads weren’t exactly easy to wriggle free of, but Virgil’s nerves only grew. “I… why do you ask?”

There was a short silence, and then, “Considering my current situation, it’s only natural I would want to know, isn’t it?”

Virgil resisted the urge to wince at his own dumbassery. “Right. Well. Yeah,” he confirmed, already bracing for the fear that nearly every human bore when confronted with him. Even Patton had been afraid at first, though Virgil really thought him braver than any other human, to be so terrified of even normal spiders and befriend a Drider of all creatures.

“Oh, excellent,” the human said with clear excitement. “Would you mind coming around so that I can see you?”

Virgil blinked, befuddled. The last thing most humans wanted was for him to come closer. Maybe it was the natural fear of him being in their blind spot? The guy certainly didn’t sound very afraid, even with Virgil’s less-than-stellar first impression.

“Do you have a weapon?” he asked warily.

“I have a knife,” the stranger offered, “but I can’t exactly reach it at the moment.”

Virgil could see the glint of it, caught bladefirst at the very edge of a web as though it had been used on the threads themselves. He slowly circled around the clearing, watching the stranger closely for any sudden movements, until he stood before him, all eight legs and thorax visible.

“Fascinating,” he breathed, eyes blown wide as they skittered from point to point as though noticing every little detail. Virgil would have thought him afraid had it not been for the prideful little grin that sat on his face. “I thought maybe you were lying to me-- I hadn’t expected you to be so fluent in the common language, living in the woods and all-- but wow!”

Virgil felt his front legs rising up a little bit in an automatic defense against the unexpected reaction. He ran his tongue over his fangs nervously, trying to figure out whether or not he should be insulted about the language thing. And what exactly did this guy mean by ‘expected’?

The stranger’s hands twitched slightly, still stuck firmly in place, and irritation briefly flitted across his face as though he’d forgotten his position. He blinked, as though remembering something.

“Oh, right. Are you planning on trying to consume me, then?” he asked, the question as politely curious as an inquiry about the weather.

Virgil recoiled physically at the idea, skittering back a few strides and baring his fangs despite the difference in size and strength and trapped-ness between the two of them. “What? No!”

The stranger managed to drag his intrigued gaze away from Virgil’s fangs, his hands twitching again almost subconsciously. “In that case, would you mind helping me down? My leg has begun to go numb, and I really would like access to my journal.”

“I-- I mean, yeah, if you aren’t-- I can--,” Virgil stumbled over his words, drawing closer with his body lowered non-threateningly and waiting for the inevitable flinch or shiver of disgust.

It never came. The stranger continued to stare at him with no trace of terror in his eyes, even as Virgil grew close enough to reach out and touch him.

“Take your time,” he offered, despite being the one trapped in a monster’s web. Virgil abruptly felt a bit silly about his obvious wariness, and lifted his front legs to rub them together at the ankles. The stranger’s head tilted to the side slightly, watching the gesture intently.

“... It’s the oils that make the webs not stick,” Virgil explained. “I produce it naturally on my feet so I don’t get, y’know, stuck. I’ll have to touch the webs that are attached to you. With my feet. The spider ones.”

Virgil didn’t have any other kinds of feet, but the stranger graciously didn’t nitpick.

“A built-in solvent… I wonder if natural spiders have similar traits,” he mused instead, and then, “Do whatever you need, I don’t mind. The opposite, really, I appreciate the assistance.”

Sure enough, he didn’t shy away when Virgil began carefully plucking at the threads entangling him, sliding the sides of his legs along them to coat them in the anti-stick oils. Bit by bit, the entanglement loosened, and Virgil had just freed both arms when the human abruptly twisted around to reach for something on his person.

Of course, now that much of the webbing holding him in midair had been removed, his weight was significantly less supported. A few threads snapped, and he dropped a few inches with a startled yelp. If he continued, he’d be in for either a rough fall or getting caught in a whole new layer of webbing, and Virgil wanted neither of those things.

He quickly reached forwards with his human arms and lifted the stranger up and away from further entanglement, batting away any stray threads with his front legs. Belatedly, he realized he had forgotten to check if it was a weapon that the human had reached for. Even more belatedly, he realized that this was the second human he’d picked up in this impromptu carry.

Weird that it had happened twice.

“Perfect, thank you,” the guy said, and then he started writing furiously in a little book, occasionally glancing up at Virgil and locking onto a feature before returning to writing. It was as though he didn’t mind at all being held aloft like a human might lift up a misbehaving cat.

Virgil took the opportunity to continue cleaning any web remnants off the guy while he was distracted, his mind whirring. A stranger who had clearly never done a day of hard labor in his life, who didn’t seem at all afraid of him, and was taking notes.

... Oh, shit.

Virgil set him carefully on the ground while he was still preoccupied with scrawling out a label for a diagram of Virgil’s teeth. He backed up, softening his steps, and by the time the stranger pulled his attention away from his book, Virgil was already well out of sight and planned to keep it that way, regardless of the confused little call the stranger made.

He was not messing with what was clearly a mage out for his parts.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #spiders tw #ts logan #ts virgil #drider #helpless #super weird not to have an acronym #h #lol #i think logan deserves to be a silly little scientist. as a treat :) #my writing #writing #my fever broke yaaay #thanks for everyones patience #and well wishes!

[icollectyoursins]

Dio x Fem!Reader Fingering At Dinner NSFW

Anon asked for "Spicy Dio Brando request please where he's fingering his easily flustered female s/o under the table during dinner w/ the Joestars and then leads to something more spicy 😳✨"

Just a heads up: this takes place during part 1, Phantom Blood.

Dio and you have been together for a while now, so naturally dinner with his family would be the next step, right? Well, low and behold, Dio has other plans. A little test of composure, shall we say?

Wanna know what I’m willing to write? Rules here!

Have a character, but no idea? Prompt list here!

Looking for more? Master post here!

WARNINGS: Teasing, exhibitionism, fingering, Dio being the coy ass we all simp for.

Word Count: 1457

Just a Little Distraction

     The sound of glasses clinking as well feint voices filled your ears as you look around the room, waiting for your meals to arrive. A slender finger brushes against your thigh, bringing your attention back to the table. Dio catches your gaze, smiling in a sadistically sweet way. He slides his finger down your thigh, slowly pressing his hand into it. You bat his hand away, crossing your legs while shooting him a death glare.

     “Is everything alright, Miss (Y/N)?” George Joestar’s smooth, deep voice brought your gaze towards the other side of the table. 

     “Yes, Mr. Joestar, everything’s fine!” You lied, intertwining your fingers with Dio’s. Hopefully, that will keep him entertained for now. He was insatiable, as always, but could it at least wait until after dinner?

     “So, Dio, how was your week away from home?” Jonathan chirped in, inquiring about his adoptive brother’s life. A silent prayer was made to keep him from saying something obscene in front of his family. 

     Dio had spent the past week away from home on what they had suspected was a trip for law school or something like that, but in actuality, he had spent most of his time with you in a dodgy hotel. Your nights together were... raunchy? Passionate? What was the word you were looking for-

     His hand escaped yours, latching onto your thigh again, making you choke on the water you were sipping. 

     Lewd. That’s the word he used. 

     Frustration started to bubble up inside you as you tried to pull him away to no avail. He was so much stronger than you. How many times had he picked you up off the ground or tossed you over his shoulder or thrown you onto the bed before making love to you? Honestly, you had lost count, but the point still stands: there was no way you were getting his hand off of you. You gave in, laying yours over his, linking your fingers again.

     The night started to pass with light conversation, mostly about what you did in your free time at home, if you were educated, etc. It was pleasant, actually and the nicest you had seen Dio since the first day at the hotel (he’d only helped you bring your bags in, but still). The hand started to drift slowly towards your inner thigh, then towards your nether regions. 

     This time you used two hands to stop him, keeping your fingers locked together with one and wrapping around his bicep with the other one. It probably just looked like two lovers huddling together, smiles still stretched across your faces. At least, you hoped that was what it looked like. 

     When it looked like Jonathan and George were busy in their own conversation Dio leaned into your face, placing a kiss on your cheek before whispering in your ear.

     “You look so good tonight, (Y/N).” A shiver ran down your spine. “I can’t wait, my dear. I need you now.”

     The words were hissed, but the smile on his face was still there, deceptively sweet. You shot him another look, perplexed at his boldness. He chuckled, pecking your cheek again. He returned to the conversation, ignoring your worry. His movements were so slight, you wouldn’t have been able to notice them if you weren’t feeling his hand slowly raking up your dress. It slides back to its proper place on your thigh, warm and familiar. That son of a-

     Someone walks by and you quickly lean forward, hiding his hand from view. You pretended to be interested in the conversation, flicking your eyes to Dio who grinned back at you. His almost golden eyes sent sparks of excitement through your body. Were you actually going to let him do this? One of his fingers danced along the fabric keeping his finger away from your already sensitive folds, making you shiver.

     “Are you cold, (Y/N)?” Jonathan asked, distracting you.

     “It is a little chilly, but you’re fine, right?” Dio grinned, mischief twinkling in his eyes.

     “Yes, I’m fine. Thank you for the concern, though.” You pressed yourself closer to him, hoping they would buy it. They all smiled and continued on talking about education, you think. You couldn’t really pay attention with the delicate circles being traced around your privates. Though, they weren’t really private anymore, were they? You felt the cloth being pushed aside slowly. He was right. You couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel either. 

     The anticipation was killing you. You had only actually been intimate with one another for a week, but he had some kind of spell over you. You were addicted. He could tell you to sit on his face right now and you would do it. His fingers spread your folds apart, not wasting any more time. One delicately traced over your clit once before getting braver, slowly stroking you up and down.

     You felt your face getting hotter, deciding to bury it in his arm a little more in an attempt to hide it. Dio let out a breath, trying not to laugh at your eagerness. A second digit was added to your clit, sending pleasure shooting through your nerves. He continued to torture you with a slow pace, never moving his finger from its place.

     It was easy to get used to, somehow, and you found yourself able to add to the conversation much to his dismay. Fine, he’d just have to make it harder for you to concentrate. He leaned forward onto the table, giving himself the right amount of leverage to slide one of his fingers inside your warmth, all the way up to-

     You let out a gasp, shocked at first, but you had to keep your composure. A quick glance around the table told you they didn’t notice, thank god.

     Perfect. He had you right where he wanted you. Deciding to spoil himself a little, he watched you shift, trying to find a comfortable position out the corner of his eye. You tried to relax but didn’t get the chance to as his finger rolled into your g-spot. Quickly, you covered your mouth to hold back the whimper that you knew was coming. If there was one thing you learned in your week together with Dio it was that he would always make sure people knew what he was doing to you. 

     His finger continued to rock into you, again and again, coaxing the tiniest sounds out of you that you covered with your hand or with food. He felt so good, it should be criminal to be this good. You were getting close, occasionally looking over to him, trying to catch his attention. It never worked. He knew exactly what he was doing. 

     “I think it’s time for us to be going,” George said, with Jonathan nodding afterwards, smiling kindly. 

     “Will you be returning home with us, Dio?” Jonathan asked.

     “No.” He stopped moving, finally. “I’ve still got work here. Thank you for dinner. I hope (Y/N) and I can look forward to more in the future?” The two across the table smiled.

     “Of course, it was a pleasure meeting you.” You smiled back at George.

     “And you, Mr. Joestar.” Dio was still watching you, drinking in your quivering form. If he hadn’t known better, he would have assumed you were cold or something like that. 

     Final goodbyes were said as the dinner was paid for. They got up first, making their way towards the doors, leaving you alone with him for a moment. Hazel eyes bore into yours as he slowly pulled his finger out, relishing in the small breath that passed over your lips when his hand was gone. With a devilish chuckle, he lapped up your juices, making a show of it. You panted, leaning into him, so desperate for more. 

     “The carriage is waiting, (Y/N). Let’s go.” Gently, you were ushered out of the chair. Quickly, you linked arms with him, not wanting to let him go.

     As you waited outside, Dio’s coat was wrapped around your shoulders, enveloping you in his scent. No conversation was had between you, just cheeky kisses and knowing looks at each other. You heard someone call out his name. Upon looking over you saw it was George Joestar, making you panic. He instructed you to wait while he spoke with them, promptly returning to your side a few minutes later, smiling wildly.

     “What did they want?” You asked, concerned.

     “He just wanted me to know that you looked rather sick and you should retire to bed once I drop you off at home.” A hissed chuckle rumbled through his chest as your eyes grew wide, clearly missing the joke. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you stay in bed tonight.”

#love me some exhibitionism #yum yum #dio brando #dio brando n/sfw #dio brando not sfw #dio brando n/s/f/w #dio brando x reader #dio brando x reader n/s/f/w #dio brando x reader n/sfw #dio brando x reader not sfw #Dio not sfw #dio n/s/f/w #dio n/sfw #dio x reader not sfw #dio x reader #dio x reader n/s/f/w #dio x reader n/sfw #jjba part 1 #part 1 dio #phantom blood #phantom blood dio #dio prompts #not sfw

[ygreczed-3]

Connor, Nines, Hank and Gavin - Reference sheets

Part 1 - Part 2

The thing is I intended to make a comic out of it, but I finally won’t be able to do it, because it’s weeell too long and complicated. I don’t feel ready for something like this…. This little part is the only one I’ll draw.

So, this is going to be a series of posts with concept arts, reference sheets, and a lazy descriptions of the plot I was planning to draw (scripts and notes mostly). I’m sorry and I just hope it’s not gonna disappoint you !

Anyway, thank you so much for your interest in this AU ! I’d never had imagined you’d like it that much !

Connor : I’m looking for Kamski. Hank : The magician? He disappeared after the Night of the cold blooded…. Connor : I know. I made my own investigation… and I may have found him. The problem is that… I can’t go alone. I resist cold weather very well but I know I won’t make it through Summer falls on my own. Hank : So what ? Connor : You’re a Red Guard warrior, right ? Come with me. We both have interests in finding Kamski. Hank : You think I'mma follow ya nicely into your trap ? Fucking Golems… Connor : Listen. My people are dying. With the Serfs War, we’re not much more than 100 units. Given our nature, we can’t give birth to sustain our own folk… but you’re not doing any better. Without snow magic, you can’t cultivate your lands, and your people are hungry. Kamski is our last hope.

After that, Hank goes back to his camp, where he lives with other humans from the hunting party. He takes his catch to one of them :

Hank : Here, that’s all I got today. I need an expedition pack… Can you do that for me ? Ben : Why ? You’re going on a trip ? We’re all getting ready to get back to Detroit. Hank : Yeah, I still have a few traps to check… Just go ahead, I’ll join you. Gavin : Hey, Bear Paw ! Hank turns around to see Gavin. Hank : What do you want ? Gavin : Seriously, that’s all ya got ? Hank : You know, if Fowler wants me to go on the hunt, that must be because I’m a better hunter. What did you do today hm ? Gathering wood? Wild carrots? Gavin : Fuck you Anderson. You know I’d be Fowler’s wing man without you around. Ben : Here Hank, your supplies. Hank : Thanks, Ben. Gavin : What… You going on a trip, old man ? Hank : It’s none of your business. Gavin : …

Gavin watches carefully as Hank takes the supplies and sits Sumo’s back again. As soon as Hank is out of sight, Gavin gets up on his horse and follows him.

Connor : You’re finally back. What’s your decision ? Hank : I just want to protect my people. If there is the slightest chance of saving them, I’ll take it. So, what’s the plan ? Connor : We have to go through the Pinewood, towards Braverive. It’s the southernmost village, the last step before entering the Stormy lands. Hank : I’ve never been so far. Braverive is a human outpost we created during the golden age, but lately nobody from Detroit made it to this place. The forest has become too dangerous. Connor : You mean, it’s dangerous now you don’t have Golems to escort you through it? Hank : Ohh, I wouldn’t go this way, if I was you. I have plenty of things to blame on you too. Connor : … Hank : … Connor : What’s its name ? The… the giant dog. Hank : … Sumo. His name’s Sumo. Connor : … I like it. I like dogs. Hank : … Whatever.

Connor and Hank have started their trip, they stop every night to let Hank rest. One night, while Hank sleeps, the Golem watches him, silently. Hank grumbles as he opens his sleepy eyes.

Hank : What the fuck you looking at, golem? Connor : It's… fascinating. Humans’ lifespan is so short and yet, you still sleep a full third of the time. Hank : You looking for a fist in your face ? Cause I have one that would match perfectly. Connor : Most human basic experiences are a luxury we, golems, don’t have. I wasn’t expecting you to understand. Hank : Yeah, and you’re immortal and young and strong, poor blue blood demon. Connor : You don’t understand. I’ll never know what it feels like to be a son, or to be a father. I don’t sleep, I don’t dream, I can’t appreciate the dry warmth of a cozy fire, or the soft touch of sunlight. I think… I would like to. Hank : … Connor : Human… What’s your name? Hank : Anderson. Hank Anderson. You ? Connor : Just… Connor.

Jericho, capital city of the Crystal Cove, free Lands of Winter. Marcus is in a huge room, in front of a crystal table showing a defense plan. Nines enter the room, straight back and princely look.

Markus : No. I told him his plan was suicidal, but he went anyway. He must be dead or captive now… I can’t take the risk to lose you too. Nines : You’re letting him down ? Markus : Look, Nines. Our defensive forces are weak. If the humans attack, they’ll largely outnumber us, and I don’t know if we can fight them off. I need you here. Nines : They won’t attack in winter, the snow isn’t at their advantage.  Markus : … No matter what I say, you’re gonna go. You’re just like him. Nines : He’s our brother. We grew up together, Markus… I know you’re worried too. Our people are counting on you, brother. Let me take Connor back here.

Connor and Hank are in the forest.

Connor : What are we stopping for again ? Hank : Shhhhh. This part of the wood is full of game. I didn’t take more than 6 daily rations, I’ll need food soon. Connor : You should have prepared your travel more carefully. We’re not on a touristic trip.  Hank : Shut up and build a fire. We’re stopping here. Connor : At this rate we’re never gonna get to Kamski before the end of the season. Hank : Who cares. Kamski’s not going anywhere as far as I know.  Connor : … I don’t want your people to attack my city when I’m not there to defend it. The sooner we find Kamski, the better it is. Hank : What, we’re the bad guys ? Please ! You were created to serve humanity. We needed your magic to cultivate our lands… we didn’t ask for this war, you made us do it. Connor : No one should be treated as you treated my people. You deserve all of this. Hank gets mad and charges Connor. He grabs his collar and pushes him against a tree. Hank : Yeah sure… all those people… men, women, children… they deserved to die, huh ? I should kill you for saying things like this. Hank lets go of Connor. Hank : Build a fire.

To be continued ! And see you tonight for the comic’s update ;)

#detroit become human hank #detroit become human #dbh #detroit become human connor #detroit become human gavin #detroit become human nines #nines #gavin reed #hank anderson #Connor #hankcon #reed900 #the red guard and the snow angel #TRGATSA

[sassycassie-s-writing]

A Court Rebuilt

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): A Court of Thorns and Roses Series/Tamlin, Rhysand, Feyre

Rating: PG/K+ 

Original Idea: I have no idea where this one came from. I just thought, “What if Rhys’ sister actually survived?” and made a few detail alterations and wrote this.

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) Don’t really have anything else to say here besides: again, I have not read ACOSF and dunno if I’m going to, but there were loose ends I wanted to tie up. Enjoy!

^^^^^

I’d intended to winnow to the edge of the wards surrounding the manor and then walk to the front doors on foot.

I was quite surprised when I just landed on the front porch. There was no trace of the wards. No protections around the manor house. None that I could detect anyway. The front door was slightly open.

I dismissed my wings before I left home, but I felt the phantom feeling of them shuddering as I pushed the door open a little more.

Inside, the grand entrance was dusty. Dark.

Empty.

I reached out with my magic, searching for the presence of the High Lord of the manor. Please don’t be dead, I thought.

There he was. In the back. The kitchen, if I remembered correctly. It had been centuries since I’d been here, and even then I’d been very young, for a High Fae. His presence was powerful, incredible, but nowhere near the scale and scope of Rhysand’s.

I stayed on alert as I made my way through the manor, heading toward the kitchen. But there were no sounds. No servants bustling around. No sentries patrolling the garden or the halls. The manor was little more than an empty shell. An unkempt, hollow husk of its former glory and beauty.

I made it to the kitchen. The door was wide open.

Instead of going in, I leaned against the doorframe.

Tamlin’s back was to me. He looked… wan. The kitchen was barely in better shape than the rest of the house.

He stiffened as he realized he wasn’t alone, but didn’t whirl around, claws out, to defend himself. Didn’t even turn to see me. I wondered if he knew it was me without looking. He didn’t seem to indicate so.

“Good morning,” I said.

That was when he whirled. His eyes—once the vibrant green of budding trees, now dull—widened as he took me in. “You’re supposed to be dead. Centuries ago,” he said.

“Well, technically, I have you to thank for the fact that I’m not,” I replied. “Do you remember?”

“Get out,” Tamlin snarled. There was no beastly bite to the words. No fangs in his mouth. I didn’t move. Just folded my arms. “Does your perfect brother know you’re here?”

“No. I’d like to keep it that way. I didn’t come to fight, Tamlin. I came to thank you, actually. For delaying your father and brothers long enough that I managed to survive. Yes, my head was bleeding profusely as I drifted downstream. Yes, I nearly drowned and my wings were mostly torn off. Yes, I’m still gloriously furious about it. But when Rhys found me alive and got me home to heal, I was still thankful you stopped your father from finishing me off long enough for me to survive.”

“Are you done?”

“Not yet.” I held my hand out. A small sheaf of papers appeared on my palm. I set it on the kitchen table. “I’ve spent the last week brainstorming ways to rebuild your court. Feyre isn’t sorry for the devastation she left behind; and frankly I don’t think she should be. I certainly am not, given how you treated her after what happened Under the Mountain. But the fact remains that the Spring Court borders the mortal lands, and a strong border is necessary to keep any faeries with bad intentions out of there, and any mortals who have a death wish away from here. Tarquin is fine leaving some of his sentries on the border for as long as necessary, but eventually it would be most beneficial for the Spring Court to monitor its own lands.”

Tamlin growled. A deep, low, guttural sound that made braver faeries than me shudder. As it was, I grew up with Rhysand, Azriel, and Cassian. Tamlin didn’t scare me. “Get out,” he snapped again.

“Those papers have a few different detailed plans for building your court up again. You can use any one you like. Or you can use none of them. That’s your choice. This isn’t the Night Court sticking its nose in the affairs of your court. Like I said, my brother doesn’t even know I’m here. This is just one person who owes you their life trying to get yours back on track. I didn’t spend the past week drafting those plans out of the goodness of my heart. I did it to make us even. I’ve spent centuries being dead to the outside world. Everywhere except home. And, if anyone asks you who came up with this, they won’t believe you if you say I gave them to you. It would be in your best interest, anyway, to say you came up with it yourself. Show you’re still strong.

“But right now, someone needed to kick you in the pants in the right direction. And since I owed you and you didn’t even know it, I figured it could be me.” I shrugged.

Tamlin’s lip curled. “You sound like your self-righteous brother.”

Don’t pick a fight, don’t pick a fight, don’t pick a fight, I reminded myself. Rhys wasn’t self-righteous. He could be cold and calculating sometimes, but his instincts were usually right. I had to remind myself that Tamlin was bitter and broken after everything. He’d been kicked after he was already down, and lashing out.

I wanted to put on the cold, amused, wicked mask Rhys used to wear as the High Lord of the terrifying Night Court; but that mask had never belonged to me, and I would never find it comfortable. “After our parents died, he was the one who finished raising me, so I suppose that would make sense,” I said levelly instead. “I’m trying to help you, Tamlin. For your sake as well as well as the sake of Prythian as a whole. Use my ideas or don’t—I owe you nothing now.”

He snarled again. I summoned my wings and flared them.

“Get some rest, Tamlin. You look tired,” I said.

As he snapped his teeth, I winnowed out of the manor. Back home.

—

The antechamber of the townhouse between the front door and the frosted glass door greeted me. I stepped through the frosted glass door.

My brother was waiting for me in the sitting room, lounging on the sofa. “Where have you been?” His tone was casual, but I sensed there was some irritation behind it.

“Out,” I replied.

“I guessed as much,” he said.

“Didn’t realize I had to report all of my comings and goings to you.” My words held more bite than I intended, but I managed not to flinch at them.

Rhys picked up a crystal glass with a knuckle length of liquid in it from the side table and eyed me over the top of it as he took a sip. “You don’t,” he finally said. “But I would appreciate being told you’re going out and when you think you’ll be back so I don’t worry about you when I wake up and find you gone.”

“He turned the whole house upside down looking for you!” Feyre called from the kitchen.

I instantly felt guilty. “Did you not see my note?” I asked.

“What note?” Rhys demanded.

I felt where it was in the house and then summoned it to me. “I left this on my bed. I was gonna put it in your bedside but I figured you’d check my room first if you got worried.” I handed him the paper. He unfolded it. The note was short—all it said was: Running an errand. Be back in an hour, max. -Me—but it took him a long time to read it.

His eyes turned up to me. His pupils had narrowed to tiny points. “Why do you smell of the Spring Court?” The words were strained.

I heard something clank in the kitchen. Feyre dropped something at my brother’s words.

Rhys put my note on the side table beside his drink and stood up, wings extending just a bit. He towered over me—I was only an inch shorter than Feyre but Rhys had always been so big. His eyes bored into me. I felt his talons scratching at my mental shield. Not a request for entry. An order.

“You promised never to break into my head,” I said sharply.

“I will if it means keeping these people safe. Our people. What were you doing in the Spring Court? Going for a leisurely walk through the woods?”

I flared my wings out a little too. Both of us animals trying to appear bigger than we were to be more intimidating. “I’m allowed to have a private life, Rhysand. I didn’t jeopardize the Night Court at all.”

Feyre appeared in the sitting room. I wondered if she’d considered getting in between us. I wanted to warn her off. I could deal with Rhys myself. Had been doing so long before she was born. It wasn’t that I didn’t want her help—I just wanted to handle this conversation with my brother alone.

“You revealed to Tamlin you’re alive, didn’t you?” Rhys demanded. His talons scraped harder against my mental shield. I reinforced it.

“Yes,” I said.

My brother swore as his mate gasped quietly. “Why would you do that? Do you know how dangerous—”

“Of course I do. But the fact remains that if it weren’t for him, I’d be dead. The fact remains that I owed him my life. The fact also remains that the Spring Court borders the mortal lands and is absolutely barren of faeries. With good reason. Feyre did the right thing in revealing to the court what kind of male he is, but that border still needs to be monitored. I know Tarquin is fine stationing sentries on the border but those sentries will eventually get tired of it, even if he swaps them out. It would be best for the Spring Court to have, at most, the ability to protect its own borders.”

“What were you doing there?”

“I spent the past week brainstorming plans for rebuilding the Spring Court. I merely delivered them, told Tamlin my debt to him was paid, and left. My life, for getting his back on track. He deserves everything that happened to him, but we need the Spring Court’s borders to be secure. Are you going to keep berating me or can I go upstairs and wash off the smell of that place?”

Rhys looked like he wasn’t going to stop glaring at me for the next decade.

I summoned one of the copies I’d made of my plans from my pocket realm and shoved them into his chest. “Go ahead. Read them. Or don’t. I don’t care. I’m going to go take a bath.”

I stomped over to the stairs and stomped up them. From behind, I heard Feyre say softly, “You’re being a little hard on her.”

Before I heard my brother’s reply, I slammed the door shut to my room.

—

When I emerged, freshly cleansed of all the floral scents of the Spring Court clinging to my skin, my brother was in the hallway outside my room.

“I read your plans,” he said flatly, almost begrudgingly. “The one about turning the Spring Court into a haven for faeries displaced from their homes in other courts during this past war was particularly impressive.”

I made a mental note to thank Feyre later. I assumed she had convinced him to at least be civil, even though I could tell he was still furious with me for being reckless with the secret that I was still alive. No one outside of Velaris had known that I’d been rescued and recovered from my injuries. I’d spent centuries staying solely in the city, being safe. A foray into the Spring Court was a welcome change.

I finished tying off my braid. “And?” I prompted. I wanted to see what else was on his mind.

Rhys didn’t reply immediately. Just stared at me with a sharp hone to his gaze. “And,” he repeated, “I think you made a good decision. Even if I don’t particularly relish the thought of Tamlin knowing you’re alive.”

“Thanks.”

“Also, I find it hilarious that on every single plan, you’ve written multiple times to have him claim all the ideas as his own. Though you definitely deserve the credit for it.”

“Be that as it may, it’ll look stronger coming from him. What did Feyre think?”

“Feyre hasn’t read them yet. I don’t think she wants to.”

“That’s fine. I know she’s angry at him. She has every right to be. I’m angry at him too, actually, for how he treated her. He deserves the ruin she brought upon him. He deserved being outed as the beast that he is. But, unfortunately, we need his court strong enough to protect its borders.”

“I agree. Maybe next time, though, if you have incredibly savvy political plans for another court, let me deliver them?”

“Tamlin wouldn’t have listened to you. He didn’t even want to listen to me. Not even after I told him you had no idea I was there.” I shrugged. “Next time I have savvy political plans for another court, I’ll just winnow the pages to the High Lord’s assistant’s desk under the guise of a citizen submitting them. This one was just a delivery I needed to make in person—so that he’d know I owe him nothing anymore.”

Rhys gathered me into a hug. “You’re a really annoying little sister, you know that?”

I smiled. “That’s my job.”

#ACOTAR #ACOTAR Imagine #ACOTAR FanFiction #Rhysand #Rhysand Imagine #Rhysand FanFiction #featuring #Tamlin #hooray #A Court Rebuilt

[datawyrms]

Changed Hunt

For Phic Phight 2021! (not completely finished but AAAAfinshnowwww) lowkey Dannymay Day 2 Portal, as well

"That portal is awesome!" Sam says. "Would be so cool if it worked."

Danny goes down into the lab that night to try a few things—it doesn't quite go as he planned.(aka a no one knows au) (Dey’s prompt!)

Danny really wished Sam and Tucker had stayed a bit longer that day. With them around, maybe he wouldn’t have wandered in that portal like an idiot. In his own defense, how could he have known that little panel in there had been an on switch? Who’d put that inside a reality tearing portal device? Jack and Maddie Fenton, apparently. He was just lucky the thing hadn’t killed him! Or at least, managed to overdo it to the point he...survived somehow? He hadn’t really decided what that portal had done exactly. Waking in a pained heap, bathed in a haunting green glow from the now active portal was confusing enough. Looking up and seeing a stranger in the reflective panel nearby just made it worse. Of course he didn’t take it well, or know what to think. If he’d become a ghost, his parents would freak. Fixing their portal by turning into some...evil human hating creature probably wasn't in the plan. At least his terror somehow managed to get him to become human again. Heartbeat and everything. He hoped it had just been a weird one off, or he’d imagined it from trauma. Until he started falling through things. He died so hard  that he got his life back? The portal only managed to kill half of him? He was dead but ‘imitating humans’ was his specialty? Some human that just got to use his ‘soul’ or whatever to be a ghost early? Sam and Tucker might have had guesses- but he knew one thing right away. Whatever happened, he wasn’t all human anymore. He couldn’t tell them. What if they decided that was just too weird? What if they blamed themselves for not being there- thought they’d killed him? It wasn’t worth the risk. Besides, he couldn’t let Mom and Dad find out, so he’d be trying to hide any of the new weirdness anyway. Might as well just always do it. Maybe the weird new abilities would just go away. They hadn’t. They just forced him to think about it to keep both feet on the ground. He could deal.

Until other ghosts started showing up. Ghosts that actually knew how to be ghosts, terrifying powers and all. Ghosts that seemed to know what he was. He’d nearly jumped out of his skin when a green woman in a hairnet tapped him on the shoulder and asked who ‘changed the menu’. There was a lot of screaming and running away at that, considering she was floating and well. Obviously some sort of dead person. Freaky Fenton attracts freaky ghosts. Of course. She didn’t buy his claim of not knowing why the menu wasn’t exactly the same as fifty years ago (why would he? That’s a lot of years!) and thought setting ovens on fire and throwing them at him was a fair answer! So apparently Mom and Dad were totally right about ghosts being completely terrifying monsters that he should run away from very quickly. Which he did. He only ran into two walls he meant to go through, even. Just more reasons to never, ever tell anyone he might be like that crazed ghost lady. Mom and Dad proving their inventions actually did work sometimes was just icing on the ‘i’m so screwed’ cake. Ghosts exist, they fought one, and the school got shuttered for a week from excessive damage via flying appliance. Fun.

It was dumb to pretend that was a one off thing. It was stupid to think he could keep hiding what happened that day. Even if it felt safer, even if he just wanted to keep denying the portal was open so she could keep pretending it hadn’t done anything to him. Maybe if someone knew, he wouldn’t be hopelessly trapped by a huge glowing robot. Running didn’t work on this one like it did the older ghost lady. He tried, he really did, but the self proclaimed hunter kept tracking him down. Even when he transformed into the strange ghost version of himself he failed to dissuade the robot. Punching metal still hurt as a ghost, and so did getting pelted with little missiles. So much for intangibility being an advantage.

“You’re lucky that you’re a rare creature, whelp. Otherwise I’d be disappointed by how little effort hunting you took.”

Great, flame head thought he was a disappointing freak. More pressing was the net the ghost had shot at him that he couldn’t struggle free of. Even drawing on his weird ghost side wouldn’t let him phase through it. “Pretty sure you can’t hunt endangered species!” He redoubled his effort as the ghost picked up the net, trying to trick himself that his swinging was making him feel ill, not the terror of being carried off by some monster that came through the portal just to hunt him down.

“Hah! If I didn’t take you ghost child, someone else would simply end you.” The blank green eyes stared into his own as the machine pulled him up higher. “You should be grateful to be part of my collection.”

Danny gulped, unsure if he should keep his attention on his captor or the fact they were getting closer to the swirling portal. “How about no thanks? Since you’re such a good samaritan and all. You can just let me go and forget all about uh...this.” Why couldn’t he just squeeze out of the net, or make the rest of him all weird like when his legs decided to vanish sometimes? Pulling with his gloved hands wasn’t working, and the glow just grew  brighter as the lump in his throat got thicker. “Please? You already said I was weak, if you let me go I’ll be stronger next time!” Okay, it was a stupid plea but he’d try anything right now to not get dragged to some ghost world.

“I’m not a catch and release sort of hunter.” The ghost chuckled as his prey shrank back with the denial.

“How can you be the ‘Greatest’ hunter if you just go after kids, huh?” Begging wasn’t working, so maybe getting him angry? He couldn’t go through there, what if being on the other side made him more like this thing, or the other weird green monsters? “More like lamest hunter.”

“Oh you’ll see the sort of creatures I normally hunt, ghost child. Once you join them.” Skulker shook the net hard, rattling what little bravado Danny had managed to gather up right back out of him.

So much for that hope. “This has got to be a mistake, just let me go!” The ghost didn’t answer him, and he couldn’t help closing his eyes when the mechanical monster fired up a jetpack and flew through that portal. It wasn’t as cold as he feared it would be, it wasn’t like the void of space. Just as green as the portal, still a swirling background to everything. He swore he saw faces and doors, but couldn’t keep looking for long. The combined movement of being dragged along with the spinning energy was stomach churning enough, and he had to deal with the fact he didn’t know anything about this place. Even if this ghost decided to let him go, where would he go? Was there even anything to navigate with? He certainly didn’t see anything useful like stars. Would all this green stuff just soak into him and make him not want to find home? Nothing here made sense! It was easier to curl up instead of struggling with the net to stretch out, and the stupid ghost couldn’t see how the tears welled in his eyes as he struggled not to cry.

He should have been braver, should have tried to watch more, but it’d been too much. The crunch of metal against stone jarred him out of his silent self berating, just to be even more confused. He was on an island? That just floated, because islands did that here. Islands that had forests on them, that grew out of what looked like rock. Sure, okay. At least it was a bit of a distraction from the fact he was trapped by some evil robot in a completely different reality! Well. It had been. Seeing the fact the ghost lived in some weird stone skull jutting out of a mountain made him snort despite himself.

“You said my puns were bad, and you live in that thing?” He was pretty sure the green mohawk monster was Skull-something anyway. Mostly tuned it out after he kept repeating the ‘greatest hunter’ bit. “Ghost Zone’s Greatest Halloween Decoration’s a more fitting title.”

“For a terrified whelp, you are very chatty.”

“I think I looped around from terrified when I saw how doomed I am.” He was just joking. Totally. He wasn’t goofing around to try and fend off the engulfing panic of never getting home, nope. Absolutely not. He tried to pay attention to the strange ‘skull mountain house thing’, but the fact it reminded him more like a zoo inside wasn’t helping. Massive, monstrous glowing ghosts leering out and snapping as they passed, smaller sorts that didn’t even look up and several empty cages stained green was not calming his nerves. He couldn’t even describe some ghosts, being such a confusing jumble of parts that didn’t remind him of anything. All he could tell was robo-hunter probably didn’t have any willing guests. Unwilling guests that looked far, far more powerful than anything he could dream of trying. He was so, so doomed. To the point that being tossed roughly in a similar cage was almost a relief so he wasn’t right beside the ghost anymore.

First task was struggling free of the no longer glowing net (deactivated somehow? weird.) which wasn’t too hard, but just left him in his freaky ghost form, in a cage, in the middle of who knew where. The Ghost Zone, that’s what they kept calling it. Not Earth. Fantastic! That’s enough to get a C-, but not enough to get him out of this cage. Reaching through the bars was out, the unexpected shock had him rubbing his hand and grumbling to how having some invisible field between the bars was just unfair. At least let him see it before hurting him more. Now what? Grasping that feeling that let him walk through walls wasn’t letting him through the cage floor, just like how the net wouldn’t let him out.  Floating just reminded him of getting dragged here. So that was it. Why did he have to get stupid dying powers? They didn’t even do anything useful!

Stressing out and not finding a way out was an exhausting way to spend a few hours. He kept thinking of new problems, like he didn’t have enough already. When the robot wandered past, he almost grabbed the bars to get closer. “Hey! Screw head!”

The ghost actually looked at him, the stern face looking more confused than anything.

“Yeah you! You know I’m gonna like, starve to death in here, right?” Danny had no idea how he was managing to say something he was very terrified of coming true like it was a joke. “Kind of a waste, don’t ya think?”

“You will be fine, ghost child. Your pleas for freedom won’t fool me.”

“Wanna bet? Maybe we’re so rare because we all starve to death in this dumb ghost world or whatever.” That and there probably weren’t too many people dumb enough to get shocked to...sort of death. “That and like, you’re some freaky machine man, you probably don’t know anything about eating to start with.”

Skulker kept staring at him, as if doing that would suddenly reveal all his secrets. “Well I prefer live specimens, but I suppose I could always do with another rug.”

Oh gross! “Seriously? Do I look like rug material to you?”

“Wall art?”

Yup, he was gagging now. The very idea a ghost would want to do that just made his spine want to shake right out of him with disgust. “I’d be way out of place, all of the other ghosts here look like animals! You’ll just gross all your hunter buddies out.” Maybe if he pretended to be some know it all like Jazz the ghost would...reconsider making him into wall art? Uurk. What was his life that he even needed to think that?

At least that got the metal monster pondering, massive hand scratching at his chin. “I do wonder if your pelt would only show half of your nature.”

“How about we don’t test that and say we did.” He’d seen some of the knives on the way in and did not want any of them near him thank you very much. Not that he had much of a choice- oh man he really, really did not want to learn why Sam hated the fur industry this way. “Pretty sure I’d just die. More. Or something.”

“Oh, but you’ve seen the other pelts on the way in. They’ve still got enough of a spark to not melt to nothing ghost child. I’m not that sloppy.”

Oh so he could be barely aware wall art. Even better!  What would he do, skin him alive or just crush him? Both? “Humans don’t melt.” It was all he could think of blathering out. Don’t think about what the terrifying ghost guy can do Fenton, just don’t.

“True...unfortunately I don’t have another subject to test on.”

Score one for being a unique sort of freaky ghost kid. Maybe. “Soooo how about you just bring me back and rethink the whole uh. Hunting me thing.”

That just got Skulker laughing. “Not a chance whelp.”

“I’m not a whelp! I don’t even fit in with all your monster-things!” It had annoyed him, really. The other ghosts didn’t really...talk? “I’m not some animal!” 

More chuckling, as if amused by a puppy chasing its tail. “Of course you are, with that stench of the human world on you.”

“You think I smell. With what nose, metalhead?”

“None of your business. Not to fear, any ghost here can tell you’re a hybrid. That human body you insist on wearing can be felt even when you’re in a superior form.”

Oh, was this a ghosts thinking humans were animals thing? Or was this a ghosts are kinda racist to different ghosts thing. Was there a difference? He probably should have paid more attention in civics. “Yeah well that ‘human body’ needs food.” He wasn’t even going to touch the idea that he was ‘wearing’ his own body, eeeeugh.

“I’ll figure out a solution to your hybrid failings, child. I won’t let a prize go that easily.”

Greeeeeeat.

#Danny Phantom #phic phight 2021 #dannymay2021 #skulker #unfinished im sorry fsljfsfs #i took longer writing then i meant to #but uh. i can use other prompts to finish #or something #i swear this was mostly meant to be funny but i didn't get to the funny bit yet

[octoberink]

In His Hands Part 3

When I woke up, relief coursed through me. I was home. In my own bed. It was all just a bad dream. Kade had been nothing more than a nightmare. I smiled and almost teared up at the thought. It had felt so real. My hips still felt sore from how he held me.

When I stirred a bit in my bed, I noticed that my hips really did hurt. Alarm pulsed through me at that. I sat up and looked around with dread. No. No, it had to be a dream. I can’t still be here!

But I was. In the massive room that held what looked like my own belongings in my size. I curled up into a tight ball, and squeezed my eyes shut. Please, wake up, Taylor. Come on, wake up! This isn’t real!

I felt like sobbing again. So, everything that happened yesterday actually happened. I was kidnapped. For my own good, apparently. And for the rest of my life, I’m stuck in a world of giants. Living with one who knew nothing about personal space or empathy. And I will never see my family again.

I quickly wiped away the tears on my face when the ground began to tremble beneath me. His footsteps grew louder the closer he came to my room. I heard a knock on the door frame.

“Mornin’ buttercup.”

No. No, no, no. Please, just go away.

“How’d you sleep?”

Leave me alone!

His steps got closer.

Goddamnit.

I twirled around to face him, ready to kick and scream if he even reached out to pick me up. I just woke up, thinking I was home due to his people’s trickery, and I’m not home. I’m here. With the likes of him. I just wanted a few moments to myself, was that really too much to ask for?

Kade was, of course, wearing only a pair of black boxers. They were loose-fitting, thankfully, so that his low-hanging fruit wasn’t staring me down in the face. But it still, for some odd reason, made my face warm up as if I was the one who should be embarrassed to be seen mostly naked. I looked away, scooting further into my bed.

“You’re blushing.”

Screw you. I shook my head, and looked up as he bent down to my level on the floor. He was all smiles. Just like yesterday. Doesn’t this guy have anything more than a creepy smile, or a scary glare to offer? I thought that because he at least looked so human, despite his size, he would have the same range of emotions as one. But maybe I’m wrong.

“You like what you see, dollface?”

Oh, for the love of f—“No, I don’t like what I see, Kade,” I muttered. “I don’t like waking up, thinking I’m home, where I’m supposed to be, and that you were nothing more than a nightmare, only to realize that you are all too real, and I’m imprisoned here for the rest of my life.” I dramatically gestured to my bed, the room, and even him. “No. I don’t like what I’m seeing.”

He smirked at my words with a small chuckle before slightly shaking his head. “Well, someone’s crabby in the mornings. I’ll have to remember that.”

I looked away feeling completely hopeless with this guy. I can’t believe I’m here.

“I’ll have to come up with something to make your mornings better.”

And my initial reaction to those words was surprise. And gratitude. Would he really try to think of me like that? To help me? But then I remembered this was freakin’ Kade, and I pushed the feeling away. I glared up at him, skimming my eyes down to his bare chest. I noticed a few scars on him. He did mention that he was in the army years ago. Had he been in battle? Is that where those scars came from? Before I was caught staring again, I quickly shifted my gaze back to his smug face, derailing that train of thought from my mind.

“You could start by at least putting on a shirt, instead of walking around in your house, ninety percent naked with a woman you just met,” I muttered. “Sorry, not met. Kidnapped.”

And I actually thought I saw his grin waver a bit at my words. But it was hard to tell with him. He shrugged at me. “Fair enough. Anything else I can do for you, princess?”

No more nicknames! I almost yelled, but held it in. I didn’t want to push my luck with this guy. One thing at a time. Otherwise, he would just do the opposite to get under my skin. Like walk into my room one morning completely naked. And the last thing I needed to see was a giant p—

I chased that thought process away. I needed to focus. This was no time to picture my giant captor in his birthday suit. I sighed heavily, trying to remind myself to breathe. “I just need a few moments, Kade. Please.”

He hesitated. And I looked back up at him when he didn’t respond to me right away. He was watching me closely. Hardly a smile. It made me worry. Did I push it too far? Is he mad at me? But Kade’s stupid grin was back, and he stood back up to his full height. “Sure thing, squirt. Any requests for breakfast?”

Like I could eat after this morning. But I did hear my stomach growl, and I knew it was important for me to at least try. I needed to take care of myself. I wasn’t going to see my family again. And if they were going to go through the end of the world with the knowledge that I was at least alive, then I owed them that much.

I shrugged at Kade. “What do you have?”

He crossed his arms and took a moment to think. “How does bacon and eggs sound?”

I nodded. “Sure.”

Appeased, Kade also nodded, and turned to leave the room. When he was out of sight, I sighed heavily once more to calm myself. At least he didn’t grab me the moment he saw me. Would that change for good? Would he change the longer we lived together? I doubted it, honestly. I was doing my best to prepare myself for a lifetime of hell with him.

But maybe that wasn’t fair of me to do. Maybe I needed to give him a chance. I need to give all of this a chance. This is my life now. And if I tried to fight it every second of every day, then I would only end up hurting myself. I would drive myself insane if I didn’t accept things. Like truly accept it. Maybe I needed to get used to him holding me. It’s not like I can get up and down from things in his house like his couch, or table on my own. I have to be open to this.

But don’t accept what he believes. I felt a shiver speed down my spine at that. He believes I’m only here to be his pet. His rescued little companion. But I’m not. I’m a person. And I can’t let myself think the way he does for a moment. Because the moment I do, I lose sight of my worth. Of who I am. And he may be able to take everything I have away from me. But he can’t take that.

Feeling a bit braver—and honestly a bit more satisfied with my current mental state than I had anticipated—I finally got out of bed, noticing I still had my clothes from the other day on. And they felt dirty. I turned to the dresser that looked just like mine from home, and reached out. The moment my fingers touched the wood, I felt my heart pound in sorrow. And fear.

I’ll never go home again.

The thought tempted the tears in my eyes, but I had to fight it. I needed to stay strong through this change. My situation could be much worse. I don’t know exactly how, considering I was in a brand new world with rules and ways of life I had yet to learn. But I had a strange feeling that I could be in a worse place.

With someone who wants to hurt me.

The sudden fiery anger and defiance within me fueled the rough way I pulled open the top drawer. That’s how. I’ve already been through worse with the kind of person who only lives to hurt others. To abuse and manipulate them.

It took everything in me to try to push away the memories that flashed like lightning through my skull. His rough hands. His sharp voice and black eyes. I gripped the drawer with one hand, and used the other to pull at my tangled hair. But regardless of how hard I pulled to distract myself, he wouldn’t leave my head.

You’re selfish, Taylor.

Some days his words hurt more than his fists ever did. The way their echoes continued to haunt me like a cruel phantom wore me down. But it’s been so long since I’ve dwelled on him for more than a few moments. Why now? Why won’t he leave?

Why won’t you just go away?

Because you feel guilty. And you should.

I shook my head at the way his voice filled my skull. My heart wouldn’t stop pounding. My hands started shaking. It was as if he was in the room with me. As if he was breathing down my neck in this very moment. I could almost feel his warmth on my back.

Something touched me, and I jumped in fear and alarm. I twirled around in surprise to see Kade. He had bent down to my level and watched me closely with a serious expression. He slightly tilted his head at me. “You okay?”

I stared up at the giant man with wide eyes. I haven’t had one of my “moments” in months. Almost a year, actually. I used to have them regularly after the incident. But ever since I had a major breakthrough with my therapist, they haven’t really been around much. So, why did I have one just now?

I could see Kade edge closer, and I quickly nodded to answer his question. “Yeah. I’m fine, sorry.”

He continued to observe me for a moment. “You sure? I called your name like ten times, and you wouldn’t even look at me.”

He did? Oh, my god. I didn’t even hear him. Or feel him enter the room. I looked down with a shrug. “Sorry, I was just distracted.” It got quiet. I could feel his deep gaze continue to stare at me. Waiting for me to explain. To tell him the truth. Not that it’s any of your business. I looked back up at him. “I was just about to change.” I took a quick glance into the drawer. And sure enough—as I had hoped—there were clothes. Clothes that looked my size and style. Kinda creepy. I turned back to Kade. He still stared with a rare frown on his face. “I’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

His eyes flicked up and down my small frame. And he smiled again. “Wanna shower?”

As much as his words pinched at my nerves, I was actually glad he brought that up. “I guess, but how—”

Without warning, his hand reached out, and his fingers wrapped around my waist. The soreness from the other day returned, causing me to squirm uncomfortably in his clutch. I had to close my eyes again when he lifted me up. I felt his other hand cup beneath me so that I could sit. His fist around me loosened, but never fully let go.

I dared myself to open my eyes when he started moving. I wasn’t ready to look down. But being able to see things from his perspective was interesting. Or at least, what it would be like to be his chest. I was pressed firmly against it, feeling his heartbeat vibrate my skull. I also just noticed that he had put on a shirt like I had asked. Which was nice. Regardless, I could still feel the warmth of his skin seep through the fabric and warm up my back.

He walked out of the bedroom, and turned right down a little hallway. As he turned left to a new doorway, I caught a glimpse of two more doors at the end of the hall. One was rather skinny, so I think it could be a closet or something. And the other must be his own room.

I focused back on the space we had entered. Yup. The bathroom. And of course, everything was enormous. How was I supposed to do anything in here? I could feel Kade’s grip tighten on me as his other hand disappeared from beneath my legs. I closed my eyes when he lowered me to the floor. The moment my feet touched the ground, I struggled to get out of his hand.

He released me with a small huff of amusement. I turned around to look up at him with confusion. He smirked in return. “So, this is the bathroom. The place to take care of whatever you need to take care of.” He gestured to his right where the giant sink was. “Take a look.”

I turned to the massive cabinet that held the sink, and felt surprise reach me. There was a door. My size. It was next to the regular cabinet door one would have to get access to the pipes. I cautiously stepped up to it, and opened it. A light blinked on at my presence. And inside the extra space, and right beside the large pipe was a toilet. Next to the toilet was a small sink. And a stand-up shower. The perfect size for me.

I looked up at Kade with surprise as he observed me. “What do ya think, sugar?”

I cringed at the nickname, but couldn’t help the next words that escaped me. “Thank you, Kade.”

“No problem, cupcake,” he winked. “Why don’t you freshen up, and then we’ll eat?”

I nodded. And when I saw his hand begin to reach for me again, I backed away. “Wait, I can walk to the room. I’ll get my own clothes. I don’t mind.”

He hesitated. As if he was going to ignore my words. But he eventually nodded, and left the bathroom without another word. Once the floor seemed to stop trembling from his weighted steps, I made my way back to the bedroom with my things. It took a few minutes, but I really didn’t mind. I’d rather walk several miles than be picked up over and over just to get from one room to the other.

I searched the drawer I had opened for something to wear. Something simple and comfortable. I grabbed a pair of black leggings with a bulky, soft sweater. It was a calming lavender color. Exactly what I needed today. I grabbed some socks and other things I needed before making my trek back to the bathroom.

The moment the hot water hit my back, I felt like I could breathe again. I closed my eyes, and pictured myself in my apartment. In a safe place. A familiar one. And I felt sad again. Would I always feel this sad when I thought of home? Would I feel empty for the rest of my life? It was hard to distinguish between the tears and the water on my face. But I took in a deep breath. And I slowly let it out.

I needed to stay calm and positive about this. I was alive and well. And my family would hopefully gain that knowledge soon. I just wanted them to be at peace. The end of the world would be enough to deal with when it arrived.

I should be there, though. I should be with my family when it happens. I still didn’t understand why I was chosen among so many others that could offer something better for humans when they have to come here. I’m not a therapist who can mentally help them accept things here. I’m not a doctor who can heal someone when they’re sick or injured. I’m not rich, or powerful, or well-known.

I’m just...me.

As I scrubbed every inch of my body down, I noticed the dark spots on my hips. As I had thought, his grip left bruises. They didn’t hurt as bad as they looked. Although, I wondered if I mentioned this to Kade if he would be gentler with me. The thought of having him leave marks like this just by picking me up rolled my stomach with dread. I can’t even imagine how easy it would be for him to break a bone.

I had to immediately push that thought away. Thinking like that would only scare me more. That was the last thing I needed. Regardless of how much I didn’t like him, I had to learn to trust him. To rely on him. Only because I didn’t really have a choice in the matter.

Instead of focusing on the negatives of our living situation, I tried to picture us eventually getting along. Like the other day when we had talked about his favorite color. It felt normal for a moment. And I held on to that moment. It was a good feeling. A good memory to have. And it might help me accept things here if I made more moments like that with him.

After feeling fully clean and cozy from my shower, I dried myself off and changed into new clothes. Everything had already been available to me here. The shampoo and conditioner. Soap and a razor. The towel. Everything. And when I had put on the bulky sweater, I noticed it smelled like Kade. He had this strange, cheap cologne smell in his house. And it was now in my clothes.

But instead of being annoyed by it, I held the fabric to my nose and smelled it again. Something about this was also familiar. I couldn’t put my finger on it. But it brought me the slightest bit of comfort. After a few more moments to myself that I knew would be a rare occurrence, I opened the door. And Kade’s massive foot was there. Waiting for me.

Barely even a moment to myself.

I exited the space, and looked up at him. His eyes seemed to sparkle as he gazed down at me. His smirk still plastered on his rough features. “Feel better, buttercup?” he murmured.

I nodded, carefully holding my dirty clothes as if they would break. My stomach growled again, and I caught a whiff of bacon sizzling through the air. It did smell really good. I was glad to finally be hungry enough to eat.

Kade, of course, carried me through the hallway and to the kitchen after taking my dirty clothes. He said he would have them washed by the end of the week. He walked down the hallway, past my room. And just before the entrance to the living room, he turned right. It was an enormous kitchen. At least for me. For someone Kade’s size, I can imagine it would be average. He placed me on his tabletop beside the cooked eggs and bacon. There was even a plate of toast, already buttered. My stomach grew louder with anticipation.

Kade set down the small plate and silverware set from the other day, and sat across from my position. And we silently began to eat. I noticed that he was quieter this morning. Maybe he’s the kind of guy that needs coffee and breakfast to turn him into himself.

No. That’s not it.

He didn’t look tired. He seemed distant. Distracted. He mindlessly chewed on his bacon with eyes staring into the unknown. To a place I couldn’t go. I almost asked him if he was okay, but I stopped myself. I was honestly enjoying the silence between us. And I should savor it. Something told me it wouldn’t happen often.

He caught me staring when his eyes finally lifted to me. I tried to quickly move my gaze back to my almost empty plate, feeling my face warm up. I didn’t want him to know I was staring like that. And with any touch of worry I might have been showing. I quietly chewed my food, ignoring his eyes now gazing at me.

Damn it, Taylor. Now he’s going to open his big fat mouth and—

“Taste okay?”

I glanced up at his voice. His eyes flicked back and forth from me to my plate. I nodded. “Yeah, it’s good.”

He still wasn’t smiling. Was he mad? Did I do something wrong? Should I dare myself to actually ask him if he’s okay? He looked at me almost expectantly. As if he wanted me to ask. I held back a heavy sigh. “You okay, Kade?”

That’s when I realized he hadn’t been looking at me. He was staring just past me. Lost in his own thoughts. When I said his name, he seemed to snap out of his daze, blinking away the remnants of his daydream. He finally looked at me. And he smiled. “What was that, dollface?”

Why is he acting so weird this morning? It’s like he’s a completely different person from yesterday. “I asked if you were okay,” I regretfully murmured.

He seemed somewhat surprised by my question. Yeah, me too. But instead of rubbing it in my face that I showed even the smallest bit of concern for his well being, he shrugged at me, and shook his head. “I’m fine. Just didn’t sleep well.”

So, tired-Kade is a better version of fully-awake-Kade? I didn’t know what to make of this. Of him. Instead of dwelling on it for too long, I decided to try and take advantage of it. I put my plate on the tabletop beside me, and leaned forward into a more comfortable sitting position. I looked up to see him eye me with question. “Kade, there’s something we need to talk about.”

And I swear I caught a gleam of despair flash across his dark gaze at my words. But I wasn’t sure if I saw it right. He cleared his throat, pushed his own plate aside, and leaned forward to rest his arms on the table. He stared down at me, and nodded. “Sure thing, peanut.”

I looked away, twiddling with my thumbs a bit. “So, while I was showering, I noticed something. Um,” I hesitated. Would he even believe me unless I showed him? If it came to that, then I would. But until then, I was staying right where I was. “My hips are a little bruised from being picked up.” I looked at Kade again. And his eyes held what I could only describe as some sort of panic. Before I could even rethink my words, I tried to reassure him. “I’m fine. A little sore, but I’m okay. I was just wondering if you wouldn’t mind not p—”

His hand cupped my back and pulled me in closer to him before I could finish. One hand gently but firmly gripped me from beneath my arms to keep me steady, while the other pinched at my shirt. I struggled in his hands, writhing with fear.

“Kade!” I yelped when his fingers lifted my shirt. “Kade, stop!” I then felt the edge of my pants lower just a little. And I fought him. I kicked at the hands that awkwardly held me, and yelled again. “Kade! Let me go! Now!”

At my screams, he finally released me. I crawled away from him, lifting my pants back to my waist, and pulled my shirt down. Red consumed my vision with a mixture of rage and fear. My heart was pounding madly in my ears while my hands shook from the scare.

“What the fuck was that?” I yelled. The red curtain blinded me, leaving me to simply scream at him. “I don’t know what your problem is, or how you came to be such an entitled jackass, but I’ve had enough!” I stood on trembling legs, and back away. “You can’t just grab me like that whenever you want, I’m a person too you know! If you wanted to see the bruises, all you had to do was ask, Kade! All you have to do is treat me like an equal, not your goddamn ragdoll!”

The curtain was finally lifted when I heard his chair scrape against the floor. Kade stood up and turned around. He took a few steps over to a coat rack. He grabbed his jacket. Opened the door to the outside world. And as soon as he exited his house, he slammed it shut.

*~*~*~*~*

Kade had been gone for hours. I glanced at the clock on the stove again, and felt dread consume me. Four hours and counting. It was past noon. And even though my stomach growled, I was very far from being hungry in the slightest.

I was shocked with myself. I had finally cracked. I screamed in full-blown rage at a giant man who had the strength to crush me in his fists. What would happen when he came back? Would he ever come back? Maybe he went to his Director to get someone else to take care of me.

I sighed heavily. A part of me was proud of myself for finally saying something to him. For fighting back when it was necessary for me to. I’m not usually a fighter. But something about Kade changed that in me. Something about this place and my permanent situation has made me defiant. I was never like that. Like Kade had stated before, I was a submissive person by nature. I allowed people to take advantage of me, and kept my true thoughts and feelings bottled up.

But lately, I’ve been a different person. And I have my therapist to thank for that. I learned what I was worth, and how to value that. How to keep it safe. How to fight for it. I’ve never had the chance to fight for myself like this. I haven’t really needed to since the incident. And while a part of me felt good and proud of what I accomplished, there was another part of me that felt guilty.

I know Kade’s intention was to see the bruises for himself. I could see the panic and despair in his eyes when I mentioned them. He was upset about it. Was he afraid he wouldn’t get his money if someone found out? Would I be taken away to a new caretaker?

I don’t know. I don’t know anything.

My thoughts were broken by the sound of the door opening. I looked up to see Kade had come back. He kept his back to me as he put his coat on the rack, and locked the door. And he stood there for a few moments. Hands on hips. Quiet. Back facing me.

I didn’t know what would happen now. What I had done by screaming at him like that. I certainly didn’t regret what I told him. But how it came out was something I wish I could go back and change. I stayed in my sitting position on the table, waiting for him to do or say something. Anything. When he just stood there, I decided to finally speak up.

“Kade?” I murmured.

He didn’t respond. He just stood there. And my immediate instinct was to apologize. To fix this from my end. I had nothing to be sorry about, but it was a habit. A habit that always got me out of the trouble I had put myself into. It always made things better and easier between me and the other person when I apologized first. If it would get him to talk to me, or even look at me, I would suck it up, and do it.

“Kade,” I tried again. “Look, I’m really s—”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Taylor.”

His words were cold. But his voice was gentle. I didn’t know how to feel about his response. I sat quietly. Unsure of what to do or say now.

“You’re right,” he continued. “I could’ve just asked.” He finally turned around to face me. And the guilt in his eyes almost made him look like a stranger. He slowly made his way back to the table. And sat down. His eyes locked onto mine. No trace of amusement in his stare. No smile, or tug of a smirk on his lips. He was dead serious. His voice came out as nothing more than a whisper as he shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

I was so shocked by this version of Kade. The way he looked at me with sincerity. The way he apologized. He meant it. And I was relieved at that. I felt hopeful. But my screaming voice from earlier haunted me. And he couldn’t be the only one to apologize. I shrugged at him with my own words. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that,” I murmured. “I’m sorry, too.”

He shook his head again. “Nah. Sometimes that’s what it takes to get through this thick skull of mine,” he smirked. He took in a deep breath, and slowly let it out. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Taylor.”

I looked away, bringing my knees up to hug them tightly. “I know.”

I glanced back up to see him staring down at me. In thought. His smile wavering the longer he watched me. He swallowed as if nervous about something, and stood back up. He began clearing away the table from the cold remains of our breakfast. “You hungry?”

I wasn’t. At all. But—“Sure,” I replied.

Kade fixed us lunch, and we ate silently together at the table. After we were done, he stared down at me with furrowed brows. He crossed his arms, clearly thinking hard about something.

I shrugged at him. “What?”

“I was thinking of watching a movie,” he replied. “But we need to figure out a new way of carrying you.”

He wasn’t wrong. I looked up at him, just as lost. Then, I realized there was a rather simple solution. I stood up as he continued to think. “Put out your hand,” I replied.

He cocked a brow at my command but complied. Kade offered an open hand toward me, palm facing up. I reached out, and hesitated. His hand was just so large. I wondered if I would ever see someone my size again. But I had to stay focused, and chased the train of thought away. I gently clutched his fingers and pulled down.

His hand rested a few inches above the tabletop. I looked up at him, wondering if I should be asking for permission first. Oh, like he really cares. This is what he wants afterall. To get you comfortable with him so that you’ll watch movies and laze about whenever he wants.

Hey, I scolded myself. There are worse lives to have, Taylor.

Kade watched me with a small smirk as I pointed to his open hand beside me. “I could just sit, right?”

He nodded with his familiar smile lighting up his face. “Of course, munchkin.”

I took a moment to gage the best way to sit in it. His fingers ever-so-slightly twitched with anticipation. I took in a breath, and carefully lowered myself into his palm. When his hand began to move up, I quickly grabbed his thumb to keep myself steady. When I got to his chest, I expected him to stop. But I kept moving up.

I turned to see him keep me at his eyes. He gazed at me. Smiling. Cheeks slightly rosy. I continued to grip his thumb with everything I had. While it may have hurt when he picked me up, I’ll admit I felt secure in his grip. Sitting in his cupped palm like this felt dangerous. Especially at this height. As if I was on an amusement park ride with no harness.

His fingers gently curled over my thighs to hold me better as if he read my thoughts. Kade continued to stare. Getting lost like he did this morning. I don’t know where he went when he wandered off in his head. But it certainly made me curious.

“So,” I began, breaking the silence between us.

Kade was drawn out of his thoughts and focused back on me. “So?”

I shrugged up at him, hugging his thumb tightly. “What are we watching?”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Thank you all for being so patient for the next part, I’m so glad you’re enjoying it! I wanted to have part 3 out before Christmas, and I actually did it! (which is a lot for someone like me who isn’t very good with meeting personal deadlines lol) Anyway, I hope you all like the story so far! We got some emotional bits this time around, and next chapter will hopefully be up soon! Enjoy! :D

#giant #tiny #Giant/tiny #short #story #writing #writers #art #cartoon #artists on tumblr

[sgstories123]

Plug the Hole

Ling was with her boyfriend Loong and his two friends, Kiat and Seng, at a coffee shop drinking beer. Loong was chatting happily with his two friends while Ling mostly remained silent as she was not so close with Loong’s friends. Loong had recently won quite a bit of money from gambling and he had been spending money quite lavishly. Today, he treated his friends to dinner and drinks. Loong was definitely in a good mood.

As the boys were laughing at some lewd jokes, Loong’s phone lighted up. He picked up his phone and smiled. He was soon immersed in typing messages in his phone and was distracted from most of the conversation with his friends.

Ling watched Loong’s face intently. She knew instinctively who was the person messaging her boyfriend. Whenever Loong has some money, he will somehow be involved with some new girl. It will never last long because Loong will always run out of money and the girl will leave him. By then, Loong will always return to her.

It had happened so many times that Ling had become resigned to the inevitable. This time, Ling guessed it must be the girl who was working as a beer promoter at a coffee shop near her house. Loong had been drinking beer there about a week ago while waiting for Ling. When she came down from her house, she saw Loong chatting amiably with the girl, with his hand rubbing her buttocks. The girl was wearing a tight tube top, exposing her cleavage whenever she bend forwards to pour beer for Loong. She had confronted Loong and he had denied being interested in the beer promoter but she was suspicious as Loong had been frequenting the coffee shop more often than usual. And every time that he was there, he will be chatting with the beer promoter and his hands will be wandering all over her body.

“Who’s that you are messaging?” Ling could not suppressed herself any longer.

Loong ignored her and continued to fiddle with his phone. His smile only grew wider with each message that he sent.

“Who’s that?” Ling persisted.

“Just a friend. Why you so kaypoh?” Loong answered without even looking up.

Kiat and Seng looked at Ling and Loong. They felt awkward as they knew a quarrel between the two was coming.

“Shall we go? I still need to work tomorrow.” Kiat asked, trying to find an exit.

“Loong, can you send me home? I am not feeling well.” Ling tried to break Loong from his phone.

“I am busy. I need to go somewhere. You go home yourself.” Loong replied.

“Where? You not working tomorrow.” Ling demanded.

“I just remembered that one of my friends need some help. Kiat, can you send Ling home in your van?” Loong asked.

“Sure. Ling, we send you home.” Kiat agreed.

“Who is your friend? What does he want you to do?” Ling was insistent.

“It is my friend from the army. You don’t know him. He needs someone to do some work for him and I recommended Loong. I almost forgot about. Loong needs to go and see him. Plug some hole. Put out some fire. Things like that.” Seng smiled knowingly at Loong.

Loong laughed. “Yeah. The person really need my help to plug some hole. Really urgent.”

Ling was not convinced. Were the boys so stupid that they thought she didn’t understand the double-talk?

“I gotta go. Thanks guys for sending Ling home.” Loong got up from the table and turned to leave.

Seng stood up and whispered to Loong. “Tell me all the juicy details later.” Loong laughed again. “Sure, bro.”

Kiat and Ling also stood up and walked with Seng towards the car park where they have parked the van. As they neared the van, Loong passed by on his motorbike and waved goodbye to them.

“Have fun!” Seng shouted at the passing figure.

“Is he supposed to be having fun when he is working?” Ling asked coldly.

“Er…I mean you know Loong. He is always having fun even when he is working.” Seng cursed himself for being stupid. “Here. You want to see in front or in the back?” Thankfully, they reached the van and Seng pulled the side door of the van open.

Ling was upset with Loong. He had left her alone to go to another girl even when she had said that she was not feeling well. This was too much. If he can fuck other girls, she should be allowed to fuck other boys as well. She looked at Kiat and Seng. They were not as cute as Loong but they were not ugly either. Maybe it will be a good revenge if Loong knew that she had fucked two of his best friends.

“I think I want to be at the back of the van.” Ling tried to sound as seductive as possible. “Will you like to join me?” She sat in the van, moving far into the van and lifting her short skirt as high up as possible, revealing her thighs. She opened her legs, revealing her panties to the two boys who now looked confused but could not turn their eyes away from her.

Seng moved into the van and sat beside Ling. “What do you want us to do?” He said softly, his eyes looking all over Ling’s body. For the first time, he was looking at Ling as a sexual object and not as the girlfriend of his best friend.

“I think Loong is having fun with another girl now. So I am thinking why can’t I have fun with another boy? Or maybe two boys?” Ling replied, looking first at Seng and then Kiat. Kiat seems less sure as he was still standing outside the van. Seng, however, seems to be open to the idea.

“How you know Loong is with another girl?” Seng smiled. “We told you he is working, right?”

“You think I stupid? I know Loong. He is always fucking some girl or other. This is not the first time. Tell me, am I pretty? Don’t you want to fuck me?”

“You are pretty and anyone with a cock will want to fuck you. Look at your skin. Damn smooth.” Seng cooed while stroking his hand along her legs and thighs. He moved his hands up higher along her inner thighs and pausing momentarily to look at Ling for permission to move further up.

Ling merely closed her eyes. She was determined that she will punish Loong and enjoy herself tonight too. Seng took that as a yes and moved his hands up to Ling’s panties. He found her slit and rubbed it gently through the panties. Ling moaned softly as Seng expertly massaged her. Soon, her juices flowed outwards, making a wet patch on her panties. Seng became braver and pushed his hands into Ling’s panties. When his fingers touched the folds of her vagina, Ling gasped as electricity seemed to flow upwards all along her spine. As she was so wet, Seng’s fingers penetrated her vagina effortlessly. As he fingered her, Seng bend forwards to give Ling a kiss. Ling responded by forcing her tongue into Seng’s mouth. Ling was starting to enjoy herself with Seng.

Seng pulled himself reluctantly from Ling and started removing his clothes. Ling could see that Seng’s penis was already hard and standing erect. She also removed her clothes quickly and laid on her back in the van. Her legs spread open, inviting Seng to fuck her. At this time, she realised that Kiat was still standing outside the van. However, he had unzipped his pants and was stroking his hard cock as he watched the two of them.

“Do you want to join in?” Ling asked, feeling a little sorry for Kiat. Of the two, Kiat was perhaps more of a gentlemen. Or maybe he was just shy.

Kiat did not reply but continued looking at Seng and Ling with a glazed look.

“If you are not joining in, then make yourself useful. Take a video of us fucking. I want to remember tonight.” Ling commanded.

Kiat looked at Seng at this weird request but Seng was too horny to care. He positioned himself in between Ling’s legs and pushed himself into Ling. She gasped at the sudden entry of Seng’s cock into her cunt and was soon moaning in pleasure as Seng started fucking her. Ling opened her eyes and saw that Kiat had now entered the van and was filming Seng fucking her on his mobile phone.

“Let me suck your cock.” Ling managed to mutter to Kiat between Seng’s pumping. Kiat seemed to have lost his reservation and within minutes, he had removed his clothes and had his cock in Ling’s mouth.

Seng pumped harder and faster into Ling and she could feel waves of pleasure hitting her faster and more intensely. “Plug my hole! Put out my fire!” She screamed.

“I am cumming!” Seng groaned. He pulled his cock out, pushed Kiat away and stuffed his cock into Ling’s mouth, emptying his load into her. Ling cleaned his cock with her tongue, sucking and swallowing every drop of his sperm. Satisfied, Seng sat down at Ling’s side in the van, his cock now soft and drained of sperm.

Kiat quickly positioned himself in front of Ling. He plunged his cock into the waiting pussy and started pumping Ling. She turned around and saw that Seng had picked up the phone and continued filming her. Unlike Seng who was totally focused on his cock fucking her cunt, Kiat was a multi-tasker. As he fucked her, he bent forwards, kissing her and licking her nipples. She enjoyed this second session of fucking as pleasure was emanating from many places all at once.

It was not long before Kiat too could not hold back any more. He tried to remove his cock from Ling but Ling gripped him tightly with her legs as she was enjoying herself too much. He had no choice but to ejaculate into her. As Kiat removed his cock from her cunt, Ling could feel his sperm flowing out of her. Kiat did not hesitate in licking Ling’s cunt and sucking his sperm out of her. Ling gasped in pleasure as Kiat continued with his licking.

When Kiat had licked her cleaned, Ling sat up and smiled at the two boys. “Okay. I think you better send me home as you promised. Do me a favour? Send the video to me and Loong? I think you should name the file ‘Plug the Hole’.”

[rons-hermiones]

Come Find Me

Come Find Me

by rons-hermiones

Summary: Unplanned, Hermione is forced to spend Christmas at the Burrow due to her grandmother falling very ill. After being ignored by Hermione for weeks, Ron is determined to show her how much she means to him. Just before he gets the chance to tell her, Bellatrix Lestrange shows up with other plans for Hermione. Can Ron get to her before it's too late? (Ron/Hermione Half-Blood Prince AU)

Rating: M for language & dark themes in later chapters.

Chapter Seven

It had been two days since she arrived at the Burrow for holiday. 

Within that time Hermione has done her absolute best to avoid the entirety of the family. Well, specifically a certain gangly, freckled git. 

Most hours she didn’t spend reading, the guilt was gnawing at her for being such an awful, unappreciative guest. She’d avoid meals when she could, but in the event she couldn’t evade Molly, Hermione would eat as quickly as she could before excusing herself. 

Ginny, like her mother, was very perceptive and quickly caught onto what was happening. Oftentimes the girl would peel whatever book Hermione had been latching onto away from her hands and practically force her down the steps. And in the event Ginny successfully got Hermione to the living room, she’d just sit idly and watch the family interact, never interjecting herself. 

Harry had stopped by from time to time, thankfully he never pried her from the bed, but surprisingly, he did make her talk. He knew, probably from Ron, of what Harry phrased as her ‘ridiculous’ plan to stay out of his way. When the conversation started turning to anything Ron, or even worse, Lavender related, she’d excuse herself and venture out into the garden. 

And besides the three parties mentioned, no one really bothered her. 

Fred and George did their best to get a laugh from her on the occasion she was downstairs. Mr.Weasley would greet Hermione warmly and ask if she’s heard from her parents. 

She hasn’t. Not since the day after she arrived. They had sent a brief letter informing their daughter that they arrived in France, they loved her, and that they would write soon. Despite their silence, Hermione still wrote them everyday for any answers. 

Bill, Charlie, and Fleur had just taken to small talk, but Hermione usually halted it, never allowing herself to get invested in conversation. Something she’d usually do. 

And as for Ron, well, some nights Hermione swears she hears his loud, familiar steps shuffling outside the door as he whispers with Ginny. But, whenever the door opened, it was just Ginny and Ginny alone. These instances always disappointed Hermione for some silly reason. 

Now, on the night before Christmas Eve, something she dreaded so much knowing she’d be unable to evade Mrs.Weasley’s insistence she join them, she sat in the garden. 

Normally this is where she’d retreat if Ginny or Harry had taken to pestering her from the camp bed she was now seemingly glued to. Or often the contents of her prized book were too heavy, and the fresh air eased her. But tonight, she came out for a different reason. That reason being, the sight of her trunk had begun to make her sick. 

Inside it held hope. Something she had lost months ago. 

When her parents originally agreed to let her stay at the Weasley’s for Christmas (not under the pretense of a possibly dying Arthur), she was ecstatic. Immediately she began searching for the perfect gifts.   

For Molly, she had found a lovely welcome mat with small embroidered stars around the thick lettering. It would look perfect on the front steps. 

For Arthur, a Muggle alarm clock. It was both practical and for him, fascinating. 

She had picked up a broom cleaning kit down in Diagon Alley. Harry was attached to his Firebolt, so Hermione figured he’d appreciate it. In addition, she had a picture printed of him and Sirius from last Christmas. The brunette just hoped she wasn’t over stepping with that one. 

For Ginny she had gone with a few hair clips similar to the ones the ginger told her she liked over the summer. That and of course, a book on the best female quidditch players who ever lived. 

Hermione had been perusing a Muggle shop before coming to the Burrow over the summer, and there were the perfect gifts for the twins. A Muggle joke book along with a bag of whoopee cushions. They were harmless, but would surely keep the pair thoroughly entertained. 

Ron had informed Hermione early on about Charlie, Bill, and Fleur joining them for Christmas, so she was able to pick something up for them. For Charlie, she decided to go with something practical being this would be the first time they would meet. A few bottles of dittany (known to help burns and scratches from Dragons) along with a baby picture of Noberta, was what she had gone with. Bill and Fleur, being newly engaged, Hermione had gone with a joint gift. She had struck gold when she found a brilliant take on the Beauxbatons and Hogwarts shields combined. Something to remind them both of where they came from. 

And as for Ron, well, now she was afraid her original gift may be too personal for where they stood right now. She had gotten the idea from a talk they had back in fourth year, when he was fighting with Harry... 

“Where have you been?” Ron asked Hermione as she entered the common room. His tone wasn’t accusatory, just worried. 

At this, she flushed red, “I was uh, talking to Harry.” At this he made a noise of disgust, “well I wouldn’t exactly call it talking.” 

And for the briefest moment Ron paled, imagining the pair of them snogging. 

“What do you mean?” He barely managed, fumbling over his words. 

“Well,” she blushed again, “I mostly yelled and he well, he just stood there.” Hermione admitted sheepishly. 

“Why’d you yell at Harry?” Not that he was opposed to the action. 

And just like that she’s fired up again. Her hair crackles at the thought, “it’s completely unfair the way he’s treating you Ron! And I’m not going to let him get away with it.” She tutted. 

He stared at her in amazement, “but you told me you didn’t think he put his name in.” He pointed out softly. 

Hermione squirmed, “I don’t think he did, but that doesn’t give him the right to treat you the way he is. I suppose you tried to speak with him Ron and though I think he told you the truth, he didn’t have to be such an-” she paused, “he didn’t have to be so rude about it!” 

“Bloody hell! You were about to swear.” The smile on his face only grew. 

“No I wasn’t!” The brunette quickly defended, “anyway, he doesn’t understand it Ron. You’d think he would, you two are closer than I am to either of you.” Her voice dropped. 

The smile he was wearing soon slipped, “that’s not true Hermione.” If only she knew... 

At this, she remained silent, eyes trained on the fire. 

“What doesn’t he understand?” Ron whispers after a moment. 

Finally, her brown eyes meet his and she sighs, “Ron I know you better than you think I do.” If only he knew...

At this his face scrunched in confusion, imploring her to elaborate. 

“You don’t particularly care if Harry actually put his own name in or not, you just care that he’s making you feel second best.” She whispered, worried he’d react in red hot anger. 

Shocking them both, he merely gulped, “yeah, I suppose you’re right.” He admitted. 

“Oh Ron,” she said sadly, “I don’t know how it feels, being an only child, but you have to know when I think of you, I think of you alone.” Hermione confesses bravely. 

“What do you mean?” He dares to push her for more. 

“I don’t think of how Bill may be a brilliant Curse Breaker, or how Charlie is bravely taming Dragons, I don’t think about how Percy was Head Boy and expect you to want that too. Even the twins, whenever you make me laugh, I don’t compare it to how much they make me laugh. Ginny too, she may be brilliant at Quidditch but that doesn’t make you any worse.” 

He stares at her in shock, she takes this as confusion and goes on. 

“What I mean is Ron, is that you’re you, Ronald Weasley, and I don’t want you to be anyone else. I don’t expect you to be like anyone else, alright? If I wanted to be best friends with any other Weasley I would, but I’m not, amI? Am I even making sense?” She rambles, desperate for him to speak. 

Catching his breath, Ron nods and faces her, “I think I know what you’re trying to say Hermione.” A small smile finds its way across her face, “it’s just hard, when you’ve never had anything of your own, part of you feels like them. Does that sound mental?” 

His mind flashes to all the robes, books, bed sheets, and toys he’s shared with his siblings. 

In Bill’s old shoes, he feels like he has to be braver. 

Whenever he’s reading one of Charlie’s old Charms books, he feels like he has to be daring. 

In Percy’s robes, he has the sudden urge to make sure everyone’s doing what’s right. 

When his Mum gave him a mixture of Fred and George’s old quilts, he felt like he had to make his dormitory laugh whenever he was nestled underneath them.  

Even Ginny, his youngest sister, whenever he shared the family owl with her, Ron felt like his letter had to be an inch longer than hers. 

“It doesn’t sound mental Ron.” She assures, and the look in her eyes conveys nothing but understanding, it warms his heart. 

He huffs quietly, “Harry, I mean, he was my friend, and now, everyone’s gonna go around and want that too. And he’ll probably let them because what am I next to someone like Cedric Diggory?” He admitted. 

“Hey,” her hand fell atop his knee making him look at her with wide eyes, “you’re the best friend I’ve ever had, I wouldn’t trade you for a dozen Cedric Diggory’s.” Hermione gave his knee a small squeeze. 

And the action, the expression on her face, it all felt so sincere. So real. 

Bravely, he grabbed her small hand from where it was resting on his leg and held it snugly. 

“Thank you for yelling at Harry, it must’ve been wicked.” He teased with a light laugh. 

A chuckle moved past her lips, “that’s not exactly the word the first years who watched would use.” She said blushing. 

Ron beamed even more at this, imagining a feisty Hermione scaring away little first years as she took her anger out on the chosen one. 

“Ron, I just wanted to let you know,” she’s looking away, suddenly feeling shy, “that if you’d have me you know, I’m yours. Just yours.” It’s nothing but a whisper, barely heard over the crackling fire. 

The breath leaves his mouth so fast, it’s like a dementor’s kissing him. Quickly, he berates himself for allowing himself to think she means as anything more than friends. He’ll take it anyway. He thinks he’d take anything she has to offer. 

“Yeah,” he says softly, “yeah I’d definitely like that.” 

A grin etches its way across her features as she twines their fingers together. 

They sat like that the rest of the night. Not letting go even when Dean and Seamus eyed them from nearby. 

It wasn’t a grand gesture or declaration of love, but it was the start to the possibility of something more. And as Hermione spent the remainder of her night holding his hand as they talked in hushed whispers, Ron realized she could’ve been anywhere else. But instead, she was here. 

And for the first time in Ron Weasley’s life, he felt like the first choice. 

When recalling that night on the common room couch, something always stands out in Hermione’s brilliant mind. 

The fact that Ron said he’d never had anything that felt like his own. So with that in mind and the ever growing feelings the witch had blossomed for him, Hermione decided on something bold. 

It wasn’t exactly an ‘I love you’, but it was personal to him, and if he had cared that much about her to read into it, well he might figure out how important to her he really is. The fact that she’s cataloged just about every interaction they’ve had in the past six years. 

Wanting to convey as much without spelling it out, she had found a lovely oak whittled Wizarding Chess set. And in the box that held it, she had gotten ‘Property of Ron Weasley’ carved on the top. 

She’d even preemptively written the card: 

‘Something to call yours, Happy Christmas Ron. 

Love, Hermione.’ 

She had signed plenty of letters to him with those four letters, but part of her hoped that the note coupled with the gift may wake something within him. The possibility he feels the same way. 

However, she knows now that isn’t the case. It can’t be. Not when Lavender Brown will be waiting for him when they return to Hogwarts. 

So here she is, out in the garden, the Weasley’s garden no less, her precious book thrown aside, contemplating on whether or not she should give the gift. 

The selfish part of her says no. Hermione tells herself he doesn’t deserve anything from her after how he’s made her feel. 

Her morals scream otherwise. They’re telling her she’s the one who expected anything more than friendship from him and that she’s stupid to get so upset because he didn’t feel the same. 

Weighing her options, Hermione makes the quick choice to just give him the damn thing. One last act of friendship. A goodbye of sorts. 

She closes her eyes in pain, she just wants him happy, even if it kills her. And if that means distancing herself from him, then so be it. 

For the smartest witch of her age, she sure is oblivious to the fact that inside, only meters away, Ron is feeling the exact same way. 

...

“You know I don’t like how she just sits out there. She’s so far away.” Ron comments boldly from his place on the couch. 

“Ronnie, she’s not that far, you can see her from the window.” Fred says. 

“I don’t think he exactly meant physical distance.” Bill commented over the book he was reading, making the room laugh, as Fleur elbowed him harshly. 

He blushes, “shove off! The lot of you, I just mean that things aren’t exactly safe.” He points out. 

Ginny scoffs from the couch, “please Ron, the wards here are almost as tight as the ones at Hogwarts.” She points out. 

Bill speaks again, “yeah, Dumbledore himself helped put them up. He came by here with Mad Eye over the summer while we stayed at Grimmauld place.” 

Ron sighed, “you still don’t know, I mean, look at Charlie. He just waltzed on up.” He defended. Harry seemed to agree, but said nothing. 

“Well to be fair Ronnie, I know exactly where the Burrow is, I reckon You-Know-Who and his followers could care less about where a bunch of pure bloods live.” Charlie pointed out. 

“Technically, we’re blood traitors.” Ron commented. 

They ignored this, “anyway, there is an apparition line, why do you think I walked up from the pond? That’s where it ends.” He reminds. 

“Still it’s rather close and look at Hermione, she’s not far off from the pond at the edge of the garden.” The youngest Weasley boy says peering out the window again, watching as the witch reads that same damned book soundly under a tree. 

The twins began to laugh, “you sound almost as paranoid as Harry over there.” Fred teased causing the dark haired boy to give him a small shove, but a grin played on his lips no less. 

“Ickle Ronniekins just wants his girlfriend inside so she’ll finally talk to him.” George reminded.

Ron opened his mouth, no doubt to say something nasty to his brothers, before Bill stopped him, “even if someone did apparate we’d hear it first Ron.” 

“Yeah,” Ginny chimed in, “we heard Charlie the other night.” 

“Exactly.” The eldest Weasley agreed. 

“Ron if you are so worried you could always go out there too, no?” Fleur suggested with raised brows and a mischievous smile. 

At this Bill proudly kissed her cheek as the room erupted in snickers as the blonde joined the fun. 

“Yeah Ickle, listen to the last, why don’t you go sit with her? Unless...” he began knowingly. 

“Unless what Fred?” George asked his twin. 

“Unless little Hermione would rather be taken by death eaters than spend time with Ronniekins.” 

 “That’s not even something to joke about Fred!” Ron boomed angrily, suddenly feeling faint at the idea of the likes of someone like Malfoy’s dad anywhere near Hermione. 

“Alright.” Charlie said standing, “Ron, don’t you have reading to do or something?” He asks his heaving brother who looks like he’s about to pounce on Fred. 

Surely, this calms his breathing, “right, reading.” He says gruffly, quickly exiting the room. 

“Honestly, he’s so sensitive.” George mutters to his brother. 

The room is still tense. No one speaks for a few minutes, and it’s Ginny who breaks the silence. Her eyes are wide as a somewhat amused smile strikes her lips. 

“Wait, did you just say Ron’s reading?”

#ron x hermione #ron and hermione #rons-hermiones come find me #ron weasley #hermione granger #sixth year #hp fanfic #hp #romione fanfic #romione

[punkrock-writer]

Space Cowboy- part 4

Roasting the Shit Out of Toro Because He Deserves It 

Pairing- Din Djarin x F!OC

Warnings- Mentions blood, fighting, swearing, Canon Typical Violence. Spoilers for The Mandalorian

A/N- WOAH It is here. 5.3k words. The longest chapter so far. Let me know what you guys think, is it still too short or too long, lemme know. And yeah, the end IS cheesy. I am the Mayor of Cheeseville it should be expected. 

And a reminder Din is de-aged a bit, he's around mid to late 20′s here, just for a little more ~spice~

Let me know what you think! I love hearing from ya’ll it helps me a lot :D 

Masterlist AO3 

She honestly didn't know how he was so quiet. That collection of Ironman armor should make much more noise than it does. Or he could have at least woken her up before screaming.

"HEY" Sedona jumped violently. Her eyes springing open in panic, he wasn't in the ship, but his voice echoed throughout it. She heard the panicked voice of Peli yelling outside. She scooted further into the middle of the hull to peer out of the open door. Din looked as intimidating as he could, shoulders raised and feet wide. Peli marched from her office up to him, cradling a wailing Grogu.

"Give him to me" she wanted to laugh. The paternal instincts kicked in so fast, albeit a bit misplaced and underdeveloped. But he tried his best.

"Not so fast! You can't just leave a child all alone like that." Peli cried out, though not entirely alone, she was right. "You know, you have an awful lot to learn about raisin' a young one."

And then much to Sedona's discomfort, Peli's eyes met hers.

"AND leaving an injured lady! No water or bandages, that isn't very kind. Prisoner or not." She scowled up at the towering Mandalorian, whose head slowly turned to meet hers. She quickly scooted herself back against the crate. She wasn't ready for that kind of attention, she needed to get her thoughts in order.

"Anyway-" she racked her brain as she heard Peli continue to talk about the ship. She had gotten this far in the episode, and Din had obviously made the deal with... that motherfucker whom she cannot remember the name of. She was so focused on trying to remember she didn't even notice Din had walked back onto the ship.

"I thought I told you not to talk to anyone." His voice made her jump once again, it was rough, a warning. Her wide eyes met his visor, and suddenly the right words met her tongue.

"Don't leave him alone with the bounty" they were rushed, she probably looked crazier than Peli's wild curls. "Y-you can't trust him, something bad is going to happen."

She watched as he turned with a bag in his hand. He looked like he was going to speak, or step closer to her, his body seizing up. Instead, his gloved hand curled into a fist at his side, and he spun quickly on his heel and exited her line of sight. She heard the pair talk a bit more, mostly Peli talking at Din's retreating back. Then she was alone again. And her ass hurts.

Standing up was much easier now that the magic space goo had somehow healed her knees. Though she had extreme doubts, she sincerely hoped Din might heed her warning. She really did not wan't to be caught in the crossfire of their shoot out that was soon to come. Maybe that was the worst part about being plunked into this universe. The constant dread of knowing what's going to happen, and having no power to change it, was going to destroy her. She could already feel the way her body sagged with exhaustion. The ever-present headache was taking a toll on her mind, and her fight or flight response was kicked into high gear. She hadn't felt like this in years.

Trying to keep her mind from straying too far into the darkness. She decided to do some light exploration of the Razor Crest. She wouldn't touch anything, as Din so kindly instructed. But she was definitely going to touch all over with her eyes. First, she was going to figure out if that man had a shower. She turned opposite the open door and headed in the direction of what looked like an airplane toilet. She was pleased to find a small door stationed adjacent to the weird space toilet. Obviously hidden from view on the show, it was a rickety metal sheet. Actually, everything on the ship was a metal sheet, but she wasn't going to roast it too harshly. Opening it, the oval-shaped door created an edge that she had to step over to enter the small room. The floor and walls were tiled, and there was a small drain in the middle. A large ledge jutted out from the wall at about knee height, above it was what looked like a sink, and a small foggy mirror. Avoiding its reflection, she ventured back further. There was a curtain, pulling it back revealed a showerhead and a series of ledges cut into the wall. She tried to keep her heart from fluttering at the sight of soap bars, and a razor. Then heat began to creep up her spine, embarrassment making its way to her cheeks.

How fucking old are you 13? Get a hold of yourself.

She spun quickly not wanting to be caught snooping. She felt like a high school girl who had just seen her crush's room for the first time. She was 26 for fucks sake, and it was a bathroom.

On a space ship.

On an unknown planet.

In a universe that had once only existed in media form.

She wasn't able to wallow in her embarrassment much longer, through the open door she saw Peli return from wherever she had followed Din. She walked with determination, coming up to some kind of machine that was attached to the ship. Sedona didn't really know what to do, she stood awkwardly in the hull of the ship. Listening to Peli mutter to herself, she hated feeling like this. She liked to be moving or at least distracting her brain in some way. Now there was only the unfamiliar ship, her bags were already organized neatly- and then it hit her.

She still had her phone in her purse.

Springing into action she darted for her bag, rummaging through it until she finally found it. It was an iPhone and she still had her headphones attached to it. Her heart soared in her body, unable to contain her smile at the sight, relieved to find at least this thing hadn't magically transformed into a space object. But clicking it on she was met with slight disappointment. Only 32% charged, and the fact that her phone was wicked old and functioned at about 60% of its normal battery life, it would be dying soon. There are no outlets in space. She thought angrily. So she sighed and set it back into her purse, deciding to save it for when she truly needed a mental escape. For now, she could maybe go and see what Peli was up to.

And that's how she spent her first evening in space. She sat at the table, watching Peli fix the Crest. Or making sure the child didn't eat sand or some shit. Peli didn't talk much while she worked, which she was secretly grateful for. Only asking occasional questions, or pausing to complain about the old ship. Sedona didn't offer much, vague answers, allowing the older woman to speak more than herself. She really didn't feel like having to convince someone else she's from an alternate universe. Especially someone who was very much capable of throwing her into the endless Tatooine desert.

In time it grew darker in the hangar. Peli wiped her hands off on her jumpsuit, leaving grease marks in her wake. Sedona held a sleeping Grogu in her arms, he had been quite a hassle for her to wrangle with her hands still cuffed together. He was quick, and incredibly sneaky when he wanted to be. He currently held some kind of bolt in his little clawed hands, one of the braver droids had given it to him when he was fussing in her lap.

"How about another round of some bone broth, and then we get some rest." She snapped her fingers at a droid, who scurried off to the back of the hangar quickly. "It looks like that little stinker has the right idea." Peli sat, the smell of oil and metal rolling off her. She grabbed the cup of water she had sipping out of periodically and drank. Then she turned to Sedona, who up until this moment had been zoned out, staring at the shadows cast on the ground.

"You look like you've seen some shit." Sedona's heart nearly stopped at that, but when she met Peli's eyes they glittered with amusement in the dim light of the hangar.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that," she said with a laugh and a shrug. Then a droid appeared next to her, carrying more bowls of broth. She accepted it, thanking the droid once again. The liquid warmed her, she didn't consider how cold a desert got a night, and her shorts and men's t-shirt didn't exactly hold much warmth. But the broth helped, and she tried not to let Peli notice her shivers.

"Listen, I wanted to ask you something" Sedona almost choked on her broth. "I heard what you said to the Mandalorian, why do you think he can't trust that other bounty hunter?" Peli's gaze was quizzical, genuine curiosity, not suspicion. It gave Sedona confidence, but not enough to tell her the full truth.

"I guess I just have a really bad feeling, I think there's something off about the deal." She said after swallowing, and Peli was silent for a moment. Searching her gaze before suddenly leaning forward.

"You know I was thinking the exact same thing." She said it like it was the juiciest secret in school. "There was just something off in his eyes." She finished with a nod. Sedona couldn't stop her smile. She felt the beginnings of a friendship blossoming there in the cool evening. She hoped it wouldn't be ripped away from her too soon.

They finished their broth in comfortable silence. Then Peli rose, a mischievous smile on her face.

"Well, I'm going to take this little womprat to the back with me, if you need anything just holler," she said, reaching down to scoop the sleeping bundle from her lap. "You sure you'll be all right in that ship by yourself?"

"I'll be okay," she said with a smile, trying to look convincing "but Peli, if you see anything happening, take the child and run."

Her face turned serious, and she gave a curt nod.

"I'll make sure the droids stay awake, they'll give us a good warning" and with another nod, and a pointed look at the group of droids, she turned to the back of the hangar.

Sedona was alone again, and fear was beginning to crawl up her spine. She had to prepare herself. Somehow, she wasn't going to let that fucker touch baby Grogu.

~o~o~o~

Night came and went, Sedona spent it pacing. Somehow, that sneaky tin can had taken her taser, and her Swiss army knife. Leaving her with only pepper spray from her keychain to defend herself. She held it tightly in 2 hands, having finally sat down when she saw the hangar becoming light again. She heard Peli out in the open area, talking to the droids and the child.

"Here's a ration bar, I'm going to try to finish these repairs before the Mandalorian gets back." Peli had walked into the ship quietly, giving her the foil-wrapped bar, the child gurgling on her hip. The tension was thick between them, both women could sense something wrong. But if Peli wanted to say anything more she didn't, instead turning her attention to the ship, the child held tightly to her. Sedona honestly didn't feel like eating, her head was pounding again. The effort of trying to figure out the plot was scrambling her brain.

She didn't know how exactly to define it, but it felt like the memories of the show were drifting away from her. Scenes she had remembered and re-watched multiple times now were faint memories. It felt like she was losing her mind, literally the only information she needed right now was dissolving like snow in her fingers. So she settled for clutching her pepper spray and hoping the droids gave her a good warning like Peli said.

The droids held up their end well.

It was maybe 3 or 4 hours later, Peli had miraculously just taken Grogu to the back for some food and a nap. When suddenly the droids went absolutely batshit crazy.

Sedona sprung from her spot on the floor, her headache was instantly forgotten as she squeezed herself against an indent in the wall of the ship. Hoping to spring on the hunter. She heard his blaster fire, then it was eerily quiet.

God, I hope they can get out of here.

Sedona tried to keep her mind from straying from the task at hand. She tried to keep her breathing quiet, straining her ears for any sounds.

Those shitty self-defense classes are going to have to work today.

There were footsteps on the ramp. Slow, but heavy, he really was a pretty shitty bounty hunter. She switched the safety off on her pepper spray, trying to judge where he was on the ship by the sound of his footsteps. Then the barrel of a gun crept into her line of sight, and she didn't hesitate.

Springing from her hiding spot she sprayed upwards, toward what she hoped were his eyes. Based on the shouting she was successful. She did her best to ignore the burn in her own eyes as the fumes carried toward her. Taking his surprise as an advantage she attempted to kick him in the balls.

Keyword- attempted.

Sedona did not consider the fact, that he might be wearing goggles. And that he might catch her leg. With a shove, she was sent sprawling onto the floor, with no way to catch herself. Her butt hit the ground hard, knocking the breath out of her. She looked up to meet a gut-churning smile.

What a fucking dick.

"That tasted awful, but I don't think it did what you wanted it to." He said with a smug smirk, he was so incredibly proud of himself. "Look at this! A third bounty, I'm going to be the king of the Guild!"

Well, if Sedona couldn't beat him physically. She was going to try to demolish his ego.

"Fuck you, Toro, this is why your mom doesn't FUCKING love you" the words were filled with rage as they flew out of her mouth, she lunged toward him. Her mind suddenly supplying the correct name when she needed it most. His face immediately fell, twisting into shock and confusion.

"What do you know about my mother?" he sneered, taking a few steps forward to tower over her on the ground. But his intimidating stance did nothing to stop the pure hatred Sedona felt in her heart.

"You look like you watch Big Bang Theory on purpose." It was one of her more creative insults, her new goal was distraction. Try and confuse him as much as she could, so that hopefully Peli could escape with the child. It seemed to work so far.

"I don't know what that means, but I would shut the hell up if I were you" he leaned down and sneered at her. She grit her teeth, the insults flowing fast.

"Your earring looks like shit"

"I said shut up!" He raised his blaster to her head, a position she had just recently became familiar with. She met his eyes, and with as much bitterness as she could muster, she put the nail in her coffin.

"I know how you die, and you die like a bitch."

That was the last thing she could say. Toro reacted very poorly, to say the least.

And for the first time in her life, Sedona was pistol-whipped across the head. Toro stalked away from her body that laid slumped on the ship floor. Continuing on his original journey, much more confused and irritated.

~o~o~o~

The Mandalorian could not shake the sick feeling in his gut as he tied the dewback to the hitch outside of Hangar 3-5. One look at the speeder outside had the mysterious woman's words repeating in his head.

You can't trust him, something bad is going to happen.

It really didn't help that she was right. In fact, he hated that she was right. It was making his decision on what to do with her much harder. He unclipped his blaster, drawing it ahead of him as he made his way down the stairs. The hangar was quiet, aside from the annoying droid that startled him. He slowly made his way through the sand toward his ship.

"Took you long enough Mando" there he was. He stalked forward raising his blaster up into the dark ship. Calican emerged; somehow he got angrier at the sight of the child in his arm, and the scared woman who had been kind to him caught in this mess. "Looks like I'm calling the shots now. Huh, partner?"

Din wanted to roll his eyes and shoot him right then.

"Drop your blaster and raise 'em." This time he couldn't stop the eye roll, instead having to suppress an annoyed sigh as he carelessly flung his blaster to the ground. Twisting his body in a way that let him quickly grab a flash charge. He truly was a pretty shitty bounty hunter, this would be his final mistake. Din was irritated, just waiting for the right moment to strike. Calican handed it to him on a silver platter.

"Cuff him." After that, Din really didn't give a shit about what this guy said. Instead watching as the woman approached him with the bindings. He rolled the flash charge in-between his fingers. Waiting.

"You're smarter than you look" the woman whispered in his ear. Obviously not, if only he had listened to the woman she left in his ship. He wouldn't be in this mess.

The right moment came as Calican raised his blaster higher. The flash brightening the entire hangar for just long enough, Din slipped behind some of the junk lying around. Coming around the side before Calican even knew he had disappeared. It was over quickly, his body tumbled off the ramp, taking the child with it.

"Stay back." He tried to tell the woman, who scrambled quickly over to him as he went to inspect the body. He didn't like the way she fumbled around him, grabbing his cape as he tried to make sure the man was actually dead. Then he heard the babbles of the child. He didn't really register what she was saying to him, just thankful she was calming him down. Inspecting the body he found what he was looking for, the bag of credits was heavy in his hand.

Turning to the woman holding the child, he prepared to pay and leave.

"Be careful with him." She said, the child simply snorting as he was placed back in his arms. She then tried to break some of the tension, bringing up the question that Din knew she would ask. "So I take it you didn't get paid."

Din didn't really feel the need to say anything. Instead pouring the contents of the pouch into her outstretched hands. But he decided to make sure.

"That cover me?" The woman sputtered in response, giving a shocked form of Yes. Din then turned, making his way back to his ship, babbling baby in tow. Until he was stopped.

"Listen, I don't know what you plan on doing with that girl, but she fought to distract him. She tried to make sure I could get away with the baby." Din turned back to the woman, his curiosity peaking. "She told him she knew how he died, and something tells me she did. Sh-she was very nice and helpful. I think you should give her a chance."

Din thought about it for a moment. It seems she was truthful about yet another thing she said to him.

"I would protect the child with my life."

Internally he was glad it hadn't come to that, or so the woman who stared up at him made it seem. He nodded at her, hoping he conveyed his understanding and turned back to enter his darkened ship. He heard her yelling at her droids, but he was more concerned with finding out what state his ship was in. As the ramp closed, he flipped back on the lights. With a heavy sigh, he observed the way her body was crumpled on the floor once again.

There was a large, bloodied scrape on her temple, the area already beginning to bruise. The child was struggling in his arms again, letting out indignant cries as he reached for the girl on the floor. He set him down next to her and reached to grab her under the shoulders and knees. Deciding to move her much gentler than he had the first time. He didn't really know where to put her though; he spun in his ship, her body limp in his arms, the child followed him in circles crying out in frustration.

His eyes landed on his sleeping compartment, figuring that was better than nothing. He quickly set her into it. Taking a moment to remove the cuffs still on her wrists, he internally cringed at the redness. Another thing he should apologize for. He didn't feel comfortable sitting in the hangar for much longer. He scooped up the child, who was trying in vain to climb into the compartment with her.

"Come on we have to get outta here" he grumbled to the child, who was squirming in his arm. He paused to look up at him, angrily babbling at him before resorting to pouting as he was hauled into the cockpit. Din started the ship quickly, not entirely certain where he was going. He only knew he needed to sit down with the woman in the hull, and really figure out what the hell she was talking about.

~o~o~o~

Sedona really didn't want to wake up. In her dream, she was warm and comfortable, and definitely not about to get crazy-murdered by a space villain. Whatever she was laying on was slightly squishier than the floor, but only slightly. It felt like if you were to lay a thin yoga mat onto a wood floor and then tried to take a nap on it. But she kept her eyes closed, trying to stay in her comfortable bubble just a few moments longer. Whoever was shaking her leg did not get the message.

"Please, just let me pretend this isn't happening for a little while longer" she grumbled, not yet opening her eyes. She tried to imagine her bed again, her soft blankets, and a cup of her favorite tea. She could pretend her head didn't hurt, and her body didn't hurt, and her brain didn't hurt. She could pretend she didn't have to open her eyes and face more confusion and struggle.

"Please, I'd like to talk." A soft modulated voice was not what she expected. She slowly opened her eyes, taking in the metal ceiling above her. With a deep breath, she slowly sat up, taking in the sight before her. At some point, after she had been knocked out, she had been placed in Din's sleeping compartment. At the end of the 'bed' (she didn't really want to call it a bed this was awful) stood the Mandalorian himself, and Grogu was vigorously shaking her leg with 2 hands. He babbled excitedly when she sat up, looking up at her and giving a wide smile. "How is your head?"

The new gentle tone was mind-boggling. She could only stare at him, mouth open like a fish. Her head was bad actually, feeling very bad. She just got smacked across the head with a gun, she couldn't imagine how she looked. But the sudden shift in mood was what confused her most; there was a stumbling, awkward, sort of kindness in the way he stood and spoke to her. She searched the visor a bit more, not really sure what she was looking for. A particularly loud coo broke her from her distraction.

"It... could be better I suppose." She licked her lips, mind suddenly wandering in fear. "Where are we? Are we stopped?" The Mandalorian couldn't afford to just stop, so they had to be in hyperspace or he wouldn't be down here. Why was he down here exactly? When did the cuffs come off?

"Yes, we're still on Tatooine, I— I wanted to talk to you," he cleared his throat. "I had some things to say, and to ask." He turned and walked further into the ship, she just now noticed the door was open. Showing the dark Tatooine desert.

Oh!

She was going to be dropped off here. Left to wander the space desert. It was a short run of things, but at least it was horrible while it lasted. She slowly got up, moving around the child to set her feet on the cold ground. The child babbled up at her, raising his arms, and for a brief moment, she considered picking him up. Her mind flirted with the idea of carrying him over to the metal man who leaned against the hatch door. Looking out to the rolling sands together, in peace. But instead, she grabbed her purse and prepared for the worst.

"So I guess this is it?" She paused next to Din, nervously looking up at him as she twirled her purse strap in her hands. His helmet snapped to her, quickly his body followed, straightening out to face her completely. He looked down at her for a long time, his body tense. Her body heated up under his gaze, feeling even more nervous under the scrutiny.

"Do you think I'm leaving you out here?" He tilted his head at her, it was almost condescending. If she was able to re-wind it and analyze the tone of his voice, she would've caught the amusement.

"Well I mean you did leave me handcuffed on the ship for like 3 days, and then brought the Crest out to the desert. Which you would never do if you weren't going to...leave me here" she rambled. Her eyes searched the area around them, not meeting his visor. He was silent once again, just watching her squirm under his gaze. She didn't know how to read him in real life, he was so much taller, and without the fan analysis she could skim through, a lot of his body language was lost.

"I was going to apologize..." he paused, his voice soft but gravely. Her mouth dropped open, slowly looking up to his helmet. "I'm sorry for leaving you cuffed in the ship, but you have to admit, you sounded pretty crazy."

The humor was detectable now, and after a long moment Sedona smiled, and as the words penetrated her brain a little deeper. A chuckle bubbled into her throat, and before she knew it she was laughing. It wasn't that funny honestly, but this was the first display of emotional release her body had experienced in a while, so it kind of went overboard. When she finally calmed down she was breathless, tears gathered in her eyes. Mando just looked at her, head tilted in confusion, and when he folded his arms over his chest, she knew he was irritated.

"I'm sorry... that wasn't that funny, but I think I need to cry and that's as close as I'm going to get." She wiped a tear from her eye, looking back at the still Mandalorian. She quickly dropped her face when she saw the way he was standing, straightened her shoulders. "W-what else did you want from me?" She should know better to think she was off the hook, he could still freeze her in carbonite. He would probably be able to get some sort of profit from her. The thought had her shrinking, she suddenly felt small again.

With a hefty sigh, he readjusted, facing back toward the endless desert. His trend of silence was much for daunting when it wasn't happening on a tv screen. Suddenly something grabbed her ankle. Of course, how could she forget the 3rd passenger? With an incredibly grumpy face and some mighty grump squeals, he reached his arms up to her as hard as he could. She smiled in pity at him, it didn't feel right to pick him up in front of Din. It wasn't her place, and she really didn't want to upset him when he was deciding his fate.

"You can pick him up." His voice was soft again, though he hadn't turned to look at them. "He seems to like you a lot" Her eyes glowed, and with free hands, she bent down and picked up the little one. Finally being able to hold him properly was wonderful, he was a comfortable weight in the crook of her arm. His little dish towel onesie soft on her skin, she smiled at him, and he cooed happily. Looking up she found Din had turned around, looking on with a tilted gaze.

"I want to know... do things work out well for him." It was almost a whisper, true concern laced in his modulated voice. She had to think about it for longer than she wanted. Yes, as far as she knew things went relatively well for the child, as for the man protecting him that was different.

"You have lots of adventures, but he makes it out okay." She gave him a small closed-mouth smile. Thinking further filled her with hope. "D-does... this mean you trust me?" She searched his visor, hoping she met his eyes.

"I..." He cut off, his head shaking. "I don't know for sure what to think, I know you're not a threat, but I can't...comprehend the things you've told me." He inhaled deeply, letting out a long sigh. A gloved hand reached out to stroke the ear of the child. "But I can't shake the feeling that I need you with me, so I suppose you should stick around for a while."

As if he understood Grogu chirped happily up at you. His head turning back and forth between the two of you. Sedona's heart soared. She couldn't stop the smile that crept its way onto her cheeks. She felt like jumping, but she resorted to squeezing the little guy tighter to her chest.

"Thank you." It came out in a whisper, she hoped he could register her gratefulness through his helmet. Grogu gave a little cheer, reaching up one clawed hand to tap her cheek.

"Well...don't get too comfortable, I'll need your help." There was the familiar grumble. She dropped her smile quickly.

"You got it. I used to be a babysitter, I'll earn my keep." She gave a sharp nod, determination overtaking her face. But another tap to her cheek had her cracking a smile once again.

"Can you fight?" That question was a bit trickier to answer. While she had a knife and a taser, there was no formal training to back them.

"I... had to take a few self-defense classes, but I didn't have many options in my city." She answered with a shrug. "But I'm willing to learn." She said, determined. No, she wasn't a gifted fighter yet, but if that's how she would be able to survive here, then she was going to become the best damn fighter this galaxy had seen.

"Good." He said, seemingly satisfied, and gave her a nod before abruptly turning back to the ship. "Then I'll train you when we're able to stop, but for now, we keep going." With that he brushed past her, the hatch closing behind him. She watched as he made his way up the ladder, she heard the hiss of the cockpit doors opening. She looked down at the gremlin in her arms, and his big eyes looked back at her. A smile showing off his nubby teeth on his little face. With a shrug, she walked back over to the sleeping compartment.

Now as she looked over her belongings, 2 bags, and a fucking hotel towel. It didn't seem so bad.

She should really put on a bra now.

#din djarin #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x oc #din Djarin x f!oc #din djarin x sedona #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x oc #the child #grogu #baby yoda #Peli Motto #best space mom ever Peli Motto #toro calican #fuck toro calican #in this house we hate toro calican #the mandalorian crack #the mandalorian fanfiction #mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian crack #mando #star wars #razor crest #original character #space cowboy

[ghostsofmemories]

INSECT POISON: UPDATE 3

okay so first things first: I rearranged some things so what was previously chapter 11 is now going to be referred to as chapter 12, which is so long that it’s the only chapter this update will cover! it clocks in around 6.5k after cutting it down with editing. I’m eventually going to split it into two or three different chapters, but because all the events take place in the same day and were meant to be in one chapter, it’s easier to cover them all in one update and not include the chapters that’ve been written since then, all but one of which are pretty short.

content warnings (some of these are pretty heavy): sexual assault, death and cemeteries, possible hallucinations, toxicity/manipulation, instability

anyway, on with the update!

chapter 12 (formerly 11): quivering lip

this chapter surrounds adult Robert’s trip to visit his sister’s grave in the town he grew up while having a mental breakdown, the woman he meets there, and the interaction they have at her house that leaves him feeling even worse than when he started off.

some select excerpts from the beginning:

All this town knew how to do was rot. Robert realized this upon coming back for the first time in years—nothing was beautiful, nothing was alive, and nothing here was worth coming back to visit.

As he made his way through the empty parking lot, going slow in an effort to remember where Ramona’s grave was, he was struck with another bout of feverish anxiety. The baby was going to be his, and all his genes matched his sister’s, even when held up to the light. Would she grow up to look like her namesake, too? Would he have to watch a carbon copy of his dead sister, his greatest secret, grow up and put her hair in braids and ask for help with her math homework? He could already see it. Freckles and deep brown eyes and dark red hair, soft smile from her mother, talkative and hyper. Everything Amanda convinced herself Ramona used to be. He would be raising a eulogy, a little memorial. Ramona Bennett-Blanchard, in loving memory of Ramona Diane Bennett. Robert had force back vomit at the mere thought of it.

not him being totally wrong about what his daughter’s going to be like I’m-

He made sure no one else was around before sitting cross-legged in front of Ramona’s headstone. The feeling of fever left him just enough to give him hope this might help. “It’s been awhile,” he said, snaking his fingers through the grass around him. Dry, yellow, half-dead already. At least the sky was cloudy. The earth here needed some rain. “It’s miserable out here. Cold and stale.” 

There was no reply, of course. The breeze replaced the need for one: skimming the sweat on his forehead and the back of his neck, smoothing him over. He felt like a child, here, thumbing weeds and talking to no one—like a schoolboy being forced to apologize. He made himself smaller, tried to conserve his heat against early November’s faltering autumn. He couldn’t picture himself leaving until his patience ran out, and desperation gifted him with heaps of it.

okay here’s the part where he talks to “Ramona” (she’s either a ghost or a hallucination and you don’t know because neither do I <3)

And there she was. Ragged bangs hanging over thin eyebrows, hair straight greasy and down to her waist, overalls covered in grass stains. Everything about her was juvenile and smelled of stale lake water. She sat on top of her stone, looked straight ahead, as if Robert was irrelevant to her situation. The dead version of Ramona was the same as the old one in looks as well as attitude—she’d been pulled fresh out of a memory, right out of their fifteenth birthday.

“You’re so…” Robert paused, looking up in awe at  his sister, vulnerable as he could manage, tired as he was. “Young. And here.”

“You’re old and here.” She said, looking at him, now. He wasn’t sure why he expected her to look older, or if he’d expected to see her at all, but whatever his expectations were, they’d been slaughtered by her stare—cold and violent. No different than when they were both children and alive.

and oops here have some of the manipulation that made me realize some things in earlier parts of the book need to change:

Robert stood up and walked after her, realizing the ground was seeping and mossy and wet all around them. It hadn’t been before, he was sure of it. As he walked, the landscape meshed itself from dying town to young forest, and he was distracted by it, having to close his eyes when he wanted to speak. “How do you know about my daughter?” Robert asked, his socks getting wet beneath his canvas shoes, not standing well against the moist, newly swamping ground.

“Because I can know anything I want to, as long as you knew it first. I’m a part of you.” Robert stopped walking, and Ramona looked back at him. “You still can’t think about two things at the same time? How old did you say you were?”

“You can’t be a part of me. You’re a ghost. You’re dead.” He said, shutting his eyes again. Shutting his vision out didn’t seem to do anything. The landscape was in his head as much as it was around him. 

“How is that more feasible than me being a part of you?”

“But you said you hadn’t been in my house. You said you weren’t following me.” He kept blinking, waiting for it to be dark just once. He tried putting his hands over his eyes, which seemed to work, but made him feel childish, all of a sudden. He didn’t know what to do with himself, with his body. He had trouble convincing himself he was inside of it at all.

“Like I’ve never lied to you before. Of course I’ve been there. I’m in your head all the time. You didn’t have to come here to talk to me.” Ramona laughed and started walking again. The laugh kicked Robert in the gut. It was old, rotting. He couldn’t be imagining this, could he? That was so her. She seemed almost more vivid than she had when she was alive—she was a memory playing out around him, but everything in it was raw, fresh out of the slaughterhouse. 

a little internal monologue excerpt after ghost-Ramona says something about Robert killing her:

No one, himself included, had ever said it out loud before. He’d spent countless nights as a teenager practicing what he’d say if someone ever accused him, and he’d imagine confessional scenes before he went to sleep, or therapy sessions where he’d admit what he’d done and then disappear and change his name. But it was all in his head, just lips moving with nothing but breath coming out. He couldn’t afford to be overheard by anyone, for even the walls and the ceilings and the mirrors to know what he’d done. When he heard it come from someone else, he became a child caught drawing on the walls. The stages of grief hit one after another, each one knocking the wind out of him, but reaching acceptance was as impossible as catching a bird—he could run and lunge and sneak quietly up behind it, but all the bird had to do was go up.

and that’s that for that scene! now it’s time to meet Agnes! don’t get your hopes up about her :)

“Sir?” 

He jumped awake and stumbled backward. There was a young woman, maybe a teenager, standing a few feet away from him, too nervous to get closer. She wore a brown jacket that went down to her knees, probably belonging to her father or bought for a couple dollars at a thrift store. Her hair reminded him of something that fluttered or floated, cut off at her shoulders and so brown it was nearly black, but swaying around her face at even the slightest breeze or movement.

“Sir, do you need help?” She asked, taking another step toward him. She was braver now that she saw how exhausted he was, how red his eyes were, how he coughed so hard that he nearly fell back on the ground. “It’s cold out here, and it’s been raining for awhile now. I think you’ve been out here for too long.”

“It’s raining?” He asked, and made an attempt at directing his attention to his surroundings, though the woman—or girl—seemed to have an extra dimension in comparison to the things around her, like she was a deer shaking in a forest. More rich. More colorful. Just more. But there was still a graveyard, still grass, the mossy swamp and Ramona were both gone. For some reason, this is what he expected. To become the madman who fell asleep in front of a headstone, who didn’t wake up even when it started raining. “I don’t know you.”

What he meant to say was are you from around here? and then because I’m from here. I used to be from here. And I don’t know you. It was nothing unfamiliar for his mouth to cut off the first half of his sentences.

you guys I promise I did not mean to start feeling bad for this guy and now I have to change his whole backstory to make it make sense someone help me

“I’m Agnes, and I don’t know you, either.” Agnes crouched down to be level with Robert, like she was kneeling over an injured animal or talking a toddler down from a tantrum. He supposed he was both. “Would you like some help?” She stuck her hand out, and when he reached out to take it, his blood, frozen, thawed a bit. Her hand was too warm and gripped his too tightly. 

She hoisted him up, though she was much smaller than him, probably a lot lighter. “What do you need?” She asked, taking a polite step back. Her eyes were level with his throat, but she turned her head up, eyes darting around different parts of his face. His nose. The blood on his lower lip (if prompted, he wouldn’t have known where it came from). His eyelashes, tangled from sleeping face down over his arm but mostly dry when put up next to the rest of him.

Eventually, he and Agnes were in his car. He couldn’t remember, exactly, what conversation had lead them there, but he was almost sure she was afraid to leave him alone, that she had assumed he lived in town, and that he had probably lied about where he was from or where he was headed or why he was at the graveyard in the first place.

“Are you feeling alright?” She asked, bouncing her knee, looking up at him from her place in the passenger seat. He remembered how wet he was, that he was probably soaking the car and the seat and that he’d have to clean it all up later. 

He realized, then, that Agnes had too much faith in him. The girl saw a man, most likely older than her, who’d fallen asleep crying at the grave of someone he most likely loved, and decided he was most likely a good person who was grieving, who was most likely unstable in a self-isolating way, in a no one will ever understand way, in a million ways he wasn’t. 

“No,” he said, knowing he had waiting too long to answer and there was nothing else he could say that she would believe. He sighed, tried to remember where he was supposed to be driving. “But I’m sure I will be.”

“I hope so.”

“You shouldn’t say that,” he said, and let his subconscious drive for him. He remembered that he was supposed to be headed to Luther Street, that she lived at the end of it, that he told her he only lived a block away from there and he’d said he’d let her make him a cup of coffee and change his clothes, that they had a tub of her brother’s old clothes that were supposed to go to goodwill that would probably fit him.

“What?” Her eyebrows tied themselves into knots, knitted themselves into something sloppier. “Why not?”

yes I am going to continue oversharing excerpts from this chapter. I spent three months writing it and I think I deserve to indulge

“Because I’ve done a lot of bad things,” he said, and his heartbeat quickened in a way that was unfamiliar. Like someone walked in right after he broke something. “I’ll feel fine, eventually, but I don’t deserve it.” This was not something stated as a way to tear pity from the throat of the small animal beside him, it was a simple fact. This naive girl thought he was something worth saving, trusted him enough to get into his car and let him drive. He was a liar, a murderer, evaded her attempts to learn his name (but would hand it over anyway when she got into his car and saw his nametag from work).

“No one is irredeemable,” she said, looking out the window and making a small noise of understanding, something like huh but only in a hum, her lips never parting. “It’s snowing. It hasn’t snowed since the day before Thanksgiving.”

She was the sort of girl who loved winter, but mostly for the spring that followed. She was the sort of girl who would suffer through the death of everything colorful just for the satisfaction of watching all of it come back to life.

“I am,” he said, and he turned onto Luther, a street of smaller houses, where some of the locals couldn’t afford garbage service and tossed their trash into the back of their trucks until they had the extra cash to bring it to the dump. This was where most the stray cats of the neighborhood called home. 

“What makes you so different?” and then a boney finger pointed to a blue-gray house on the right side of the road, a double wide trailer with a car in the driveway that was hoisted up on a jack. “That one.”

“I guess it’s because I’m still not sorry.”

“I think,” Agnes said, looking at him, though he couldn’t look back for more than a second at a time, trying to find a way to park in Agnes’ slender driveway, “that you are. You just don’t know it yet.”

“You have too much faith,” Robert said, turning the car off. He pulled the key out a little too harshly, and was compelled to look at it, to make sure he hadn’t broken it, but he knew better. The key wasn’t broken, half of it still wedged into the ignition, rendering the car and key useless. To check that his key was still in one piece would only further cement his impression as being crazy.

That’s what Agnes had to have thought. There was nothing else for her to think. There was no other option for men who fell asleep in graveyards, who called themselves bad people with no repentance, who checked to make sure their keys weren’t broken when they turned their cars off. 

“I think I have the right amount.”

don’t get too attached to Agnes btw (spoiler alert: she doesn’t die (a little unfortunate imo)).

She was already frustrated with him, the stranger. Robert, his ID had said. Robert Bennett. Agnes came from a family of helpers and saviors, and Robert didn’t want to be saved. 

Still, there were ways around such things. She would make him want it.

ew ew ew EW

He decided to wash his face in the bathroom sink before he buttoned the shirt up the middle, the warm water a refreshing change from the rain’s cold that seemed to have set into his bones, decided to stay there until it got warm enough to start decaying. He scrubbed with his hands, then with his fingernails, until he could feel his skin shedding. When he stood up straight again, he saw Ramona’s face—all covered in red, just like his, hair dark red and still damp because the towel could only hold so much. He slammed himself back against the wall, which was only a step away. In the kitchen, Agnes froze over the sink, the coffee pot overflowing in her hand, wetting her hand up to her wrist. 

“Are you alright?” She asked. A moment had passed with no other sound to follow the crash, and there was nothing to do but ask. It felt like an invasion of privacy to do anything else, anything more.

Robert closed his eyes and took a moment to learn how to breathe again, then how to speak. “I’m alright,” he said, and if he was in his own house, no one would have heard him. The walls here were thin, though, and Agnes shook off the interruption to start the coffee maker.

When he was ready to open his eyes again, the reflection in the mirror hadn’t changed. It wasn’t Ramona. It never was. He just looked more like her than usual, that’s all. It was seeing her that had refreshed the image in his mind, gave his idea of her face more clarity, that’s all. 

He sat on the lid of the toilet and held his head in his hands, for a moment, but didn’t let himself cry. There was no reason to, she wasn’t here this time. He hadn’t seen her.

and then some of their coffee scene:

“Oh, that’s terrible. I’m sorry. If you want to talk about it, you can, but you don’t have to.”

He was speaking before he had the sense to stop himself. “I won’t get too far into it,” he said, reaching for his cup of coffee. He had no plans to drink it, but now that it had cool enough to just warm his hands, he was thankful that it kept him busy, “but she drowned. In the lake. It was a long time ago.” Indeed, emptying his troubles out to a stranger was soothing, but Robert wasn’t known for his conversation skills. He wanted to let something else slip out—the sight of Ramona out of the corners of his eyes, seeing her at the graveyard and waking up to this gentle woman. Or girl. She was younger than him, he was almost sure, but she could be anywhere from seventeen to twenty-seven.

“Oh, I think I heard about that. Ruby Bennett? My older cousin was close with her. Well, she says she was. She exaggerates sometimes, but they knew each other at least. Martha’s my cousin’s name. I guess if you and Ruby were twins you would have graduated with her.”

“Ramona,” Robert corrected, and set his cup down. The name Martha was familiar to him, but not enough to distract from his sudden, unexpected defensiveness. He moved himself to the edge of the chair, frowning, already feeling the toll of the cheap furniture on his back. The furniture in his apartment was cheap, too, but it was a sort of cheap he was used to. Thrift-store-miracle cheap, not mass produced for $8 a piece cheap. “Her name was Ramona.”

“Oh, sorry. Ramona,” Agnes ran her finger down the short pile of unopened mail, averted her eyes, embarrassed by the nature of her mistake. Her accidental disrespect of a dead girl.

this next part is where the big content warning comes in, if you’re sensitive to sexual assault (it doesn’t follow through all the way but it’s definitely implied) probably don’t read this excerpt or the one that follows, they’re both pretty heavy

Not much later, Agnes was swiping a kiss in the hallway, walking Robert to her bedroom, breath hot and vision blurry. He was unsure how or when they got there, but it was something like this:

Robert, finishing his coffee out of obligation, hoping the caffeine would soothe his headache and give him the energy to drive home soon. He stood up, took the two or three steps to the sink to rinse the cup out.

Agnes, following his movements faster than he could make them. “Let me get that,” she offered, and took the cup from his hand, set his and hers down in the sink, stared up at him with dark eyes and deep red cheeks. 

They were three inches apart. Robert opened his mouth, took a step back (Agnes mirrored it, of course, before he’d processed that he’d moved at all), closed his mouth. Opened it again. A toddler trying to speak, a fish pushing air to the water’s surface, a drowning man. 

Several more seconds of staring, then Agnes’ hand on his shoulder, then her lips on his, then the half-walk, half-kiss through the kitchen and down the hallway. Robert felt as though he might doze off, might fall over, might start crying again. He didn’t understand what he was doing enough to stop. Agnes kept kissing him while she fumbled with the loose doorknob, kept kissing him while she shoved the door open. It had been awhile, but she wasn’t completely without experience. She moved like liquid, so fast and fluid that Robert could hardly inhale, let alone speak. Did she think she could baptize him like this? By holding him under? She started unbuttoning his shirt, slid it off his shoulders, let it fall off the unmade bed and onto the carpet.

 It wasn’t until he realized that she was undoing his jeans that Robert pulled away. Pushed away. Did both at once. Agnes’ eyes flitted open, and she frowned. “What was that about?” Her hair framed her face in a way that made her look young, innocent (and it was still difficult to believe that she wasn’t either of them). She was sitting on the bed and he stood as far from it as he could. It was a twin size and still took up most of the room. He was only a step away from it and backed against the wall.

“No. No, I’m sorry. I can’t. I can’t have- I can’t do anything like that. I didn’t mean for that to happen, I-” He already knew his whole face was red and his hands would shake the second he thought too hard about them. “Agnes, I’m sorry. I’m not feeling well. I need to go home.” His apologies were as sincere as they were unnecessary. This wasn’t what he wanted. He knew he wasn’t a good man, but he wasn’t his father. His marriage was what tied everything together, the only reason he’d ever had to regret his past. It was what kept him grounded, even if that wasn’t exactly what he’d wanted for himself. Amanda was the only promise he’d ever kept, the only thing he’d ever paid faith to.

yeah so after this there’s a really awkward dialogue that needs some work so I’m just going to pretend it doesn’t exist for now, just take the end of this neverending hell chapter :) this excerpt is a bit disorganized and messy but so is Robert and so am I so it’s fine.

Leaving his hometown, dizzy and sick to his stomach a forcing his eyes to stay open for the entire fifty-six minute drive, there was a dull knife of guilt pushing at Robert’s gut, trying to cut him open. Why didn’t he stop her sooner? Had he just cheated on his wife? Where did he go from here?

He kept his eyes away from the roadside when he passed his childhood home on the way out of town. His mother wouldn’t miss his visit, and he was likely better off without it. He understood this better than he understood most things, and yet he had to stop himself from turning around, from finding himself on her doorstep, from knocking on the door and falling into her arms the second it opened. He longed for the comfort of any mother but the one the one who’d raised him. Was that an evil thing to think? Would his mother hate him if she knew he’d driven past her?

It didn’t matter. man does what he has to do sometimes, and if that made him evil, he could live with that. Sometimes, a man has to drive past his mother’s house. And sometimes, he has to stop someone from ending his life in a lake by the forest, watch the bubbles float to the top until they don’t, wait a little bit longer to make sure. And sometimes, he has to come home and tell his wife he wasn’t feeling well and had gone to the doctor and was told that he needed to rest for awhile pick up some tylenol if it didn’t get any better, tell her he’d sleep on the couch so he wouldn’t get her sick,  question all night if he would tell her the truth tomorrow or not just to disappear off to work before she was up in the morning and leave a note on the fridge that he was feeling better and that he loved her.

Maybe he did. He couldn’t imagine a world where he’d be so afraid of losing something that he didn’t love. This constant exchange of fear and comfort really couldn’t be anything else.

okay yeah that’s it! hopefully soon I’ll update on the shorter chapters I’ve written since this one, but one of them needs to be re-written entirely since I’m changing so many things about Ramona’s character.

writing this chapter was a bit of a catharsis for me, and also made me realize some changes that need to be made to the backstory/early narrative because Robert’s character ended up evolving into less of a bad person and more  morally gray, the kind of character you can relate to but sometimes in ways that scare you a little bit. I hope you enjoyed this update! I spent way too long working on it and even longer writing the chapter. I’m finally getting back in the swing of writing post-covid and post-going back to school for the first time in two months, so hopefully no other large life-altering events happen because I’m having a pretty good time writing this book.

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[woodstockbtswriter]

Voyagers

Genre: Fluff/Headcanon

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader (Female)

Summary: A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to join BTS on a Bon Voyage adventure leads to once-in-a-lifetime love.

Author’s Note: I tried really hard to make this part another drabble ('Cause, dang, the response to my last drabble was off-the-charts! Thank you!), but it just wasn't working, and when I switched to headcanon style, it came out much better so... Here you have it. Please enjoy!

Part Ten

Fireside Chat

You had so many questions you wanted to ask Yoongi, not the least of which was how he felt about you

You wanted to know everything about him, all the things he didn’t share openly, the thoughts he didn’t voice in front of cameras

And you wanted to share everything about yourself with him

But you weren’t sure where to start

Staring at the grass beneath your feet, you remembered a random bit of trivia from your research before the trip

“Did you know that New Zealand doesn’t have any snakes?”

You thought Yoongi might laugh, but he responded with interest and a fact of his own: “I read there are nine sheep for every one person.”

After that, your conversation began flowing naturally, the lack of surveillance and distraction allowing you both to relax

You discussed all kinds of things, from your interests and your experiences, to your ideas and your hopes, and found more and more things in common

Your simple fireside chat quickly became one of the most enjoyable conversations you’d ever had

The way Yoongi responded to everything you had to say - listening carefully, nodding considerately, replying thoughtfully, and asking insightful questions - made it exceptionally easy to talk to him

Never before had you connected with someone so effortlessly

And never had Yoongi felt less like an untouchable idol and more like a real person to you than he did now

The two of you talked for over an hour, smiling and laughing casually, the occasional silences feeling comfortable instead of awkward

The night grew colder the lower the fire burned, and each of you declared several times that you should call it a night

But somehow the discussion just kept going, with neither of you making any moves toward your beds

Growing Closer

After a while, Yoongi surprised you by asking about your worries and fears

You told him that sometimes you worried you were living life too safely, and not taking enough risks

And you shared how sometimes you struggled to have confidence, to feel like you were good enough

He was empathetic, admitting he’d had the same feelings at times

But he assured you that you were bolder and braver than you realized

And a moment of quiet, pure, intimate understanding passed between you

Then you shook your head, saying you probably shared more than he wanted to know

Yoongi disagreed, replying softly, “I want to know everything about you.”

You looked up at him, and seeing the sincerity in his eyes warmed you against the chill in the air

You told Yoongi you were completely open, and asked what else he wanted to know

So he admitted that there was something he’d been wondering

He wanted to know why he was your bias, and the question caught you off-guard

You joked that it was because he’s so beautiful

But he scoffed, arguing that ARMYs think all the members are beautiful and that can’t be the only reason

No, you agreed, it wasn’t the only reason

It wasn’t even the main reason, but there were too many things you loved about Yoongi to list them all

But after you considered his question for a moment, you realized it really all came down to one thing

“It’s because you care.” You told him. “I mean, you’re really good at acting like you don’t, but you care so deeply.”

When a pensive wrinkle formed between Yoongi’s eyebrows, you explained that when you discovered BTS, you were having a really hard time

The group’s music and message and positivity really helped you through, but Yoongi…

He was the one who really lifted you up when nothing else could

He was just… so calm and comforting and…

Safe

You knew he had some real struggles in the past, but you admired the way he allowed his experiences to make him so patient and compassionate

And you knew he tried to hide his feelings because he didn’t want to burden anyone else, but that was just another example of how much he cares for others

You never thought you’d get to say these things to Yoongi in person, but since you had the chance now, you tried your best to express your feelings - and your gratitude - to him

When you finished speaking, you waited for Yoongi to say something

His mouth formed a line, and you worried that you’d said too much

Until he finally exhaled, remarking that you were quite perceptive

Then you had a question for Yoongi

You wanted to know how he felt when you told the boys that he’s your bias

He ran his hands back through his hair, and it was hard to tell in the faint orange glow of the coals, but his ears seemed to redden in embarrassment

He was definitely flattered, he confessed, and honored

He also felt humbled and grateful

And a little unworthy

But mostly he felt… lucky

That someone like you could feel that way about him

Meeting your gaze, he gave you half a smile, and it was your turn to blush

You then stifled a yawn, and Yoongi stretched, yawning too

He suggested that it was maybe time to really head to bed, and you reluctantly agreed

You would have loved nothing more than to stay up all night talking with him, but you knew morning was going to come bright and early and you both needed your sleep

Goodnight, Good Night

Wearily, you both stood and folded your camp chairs, and Yoongi doused the last embers in the fire pit

You then headed toward the tents together, stopping between the large one where Namjoon was already sleeping and the tiny one that was your private bedroom for the night

Wishing you didn’t have to, you said goodnight to Yoongi, and when you moved to give him a hug, he wrapped his arms around your waist

His cool cheek pressed against yours, your bodies completely flush as he held you securely, lingering

It was the longest, closest, tightest embrace you’d ever shared

And when you felt his fingertips lace into the ends of your hair where it hung down your back, a shiver ran up your spine

“Goodnight, noona,” he said, his warm breath tickling your ear

He leaned back then, his hands sliding down your arms to catch both of your hands

Looking at you from beneath heavy eyelids, he gave you another shy smile, his gums just barely showing as he squeezed your fingers

You returned his smile, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest

Then your hands slipped apart as you each turned toward your own tent

After unzipping the flap on your tent, you crawled inside and removed your boots, wiggling into your sleeping bag still fully dressed

As you settled in, you heard hushed voices, and lifting your head to better hear, you realized it was Yoongi and Namjoon

Their tent was so close and the walls were so thin that, even though they were practically whispering, you could just make out everything they were saying

Namjoon asked Yoongi if he’d been talking to you all this time

Yoongi confirmed that he had, and you could hear the ruffling of his sleeping bag as he climbed into it

Namjoon then observed that it was really late, and if Yoongi chose staying up with you over going to sleep, you must be pretty special

A low, affirmative rumble sounded from Yoongi, accompanied by a simple, concise “Yeah.”

Namjoon gave only an “mmm” in response, then everything went quiet

You continued to listen, straining your neck, but light snores soon began sounding from the other tent, telling you that the boys had fallen asleep

Sighing, you laid back against your pillow, adrenaline surging through your veins like a rushing wave

You immediately began reviewing the night’s conversation over and over again in your head, reconsidering and savoring every nuance

It had been a truly incredible night

If you weren’t already in love with Yoongi before, you certainly were now

And after what you just overheard…

You finally felt like you could allow yourself to believe that maybe

Just maybe

There was an actual chance he could be falling for you too

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#bts #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #min yoongi #bts suga #bts fanfiction #bts imagines suga #bts fluff #bts fics #bts bon voyage #bon voyage season 4 #yoongi x reader #suganetwork #bts headcanons

[tellmealovestory]

What The Hell

Summary: Dialogue prompt - Put the knife down

Notes: Also posted on my ao3. This was written for @sillyqt​ 1k followers challenge. Congrats again on all the followers!

Warnings: Swear words galore, back at it with the dumbass reader, mentions of smut, implied smut, did I mention the readers a dumbass?

There were a lot of things running through your mind that made sleep impossible. 

The storm raging outside. Heavy, fat rain drops that slammed against your window, wind that howled and shook the ratty frames, the loud claps of thunder that had you jumping each time they rolled across the night sky, the lightning that lit up your small room for brief seconds of a time reminding you just how lonely it could be at night when Bucky was away on a mission.

There were always too many things that could go wrong on those extended missions that left you tossing and turning unable to catch a wink of sleep. While you understood it was his job it didn’t make dealing with the worries over him getting hurt any less easier to handle. 

Rolling onto your back you whined at the mugginess that had settled in your room. The whirring of the small fan that sat in the corner only circulated more hot air doing little to cool you off. 

Outside sirens from an ambulance wailed causing you to wince. As much as you loved this apartment the neighborhood wasn’t the greatest and each time you heard sirens when alone or the creaking of what you were convinced of was someone breaking into your apartment you broke out in hives of worries and what ifs. 

Despite Bucky’s insistence that you move to a better apartment in a safer neighborhood your reluctance to leave the space you had called home since moving to the city had always won out. But laying in bed alone tonight you were beginning to rethink that position when you were convinced you heard your apartment door creaking open.

With a racing heart, shaking breaths and sheets tangled around your feet you sat up in bed tilting your head to the side trying to decipher if the creaking of a door opening was real or if you were imagining it. 

Break-ins weren’t unheard of in the building, but so far you had been lucky enough to never experience one. 

Floorboards creaked under heavy boots.

Shit, shit, shit.

Your phone was sitting on the kitchen counter next to the half empty boxes of Chinese food you had ordered earlier which meant if someone was breaking in you couldn’t even call 9-1-1 for help. 

Bringing your knees to your chest your eyes quickly scanned your darkened room looking for anything to arm yourself with.

Another heavy step, another creaking floorboard.

You understood why Bucky wanted you to move somewhere safer now. 

Think, think, think your mind screamed. With no phone to call for help, no baseball bat to smack whoever was inside your apartment you were fucked. You were about to die. You were about to die a horrible, slow death because you were the idiot in every horror movie who couldn’t manage to keep their phone with them. You were about to die wearing nothing but a tank top and a pair of underwear. You were about to die in a dingy apartment littered with take out containers during the middle of a thunderstorm. Fuck.

Swinging your legs over your bed you winced at the groaning of your worn out mattress. Freezing you sucked in a deep breath only exhaling when your bedroom door didn’t fling open to reveal a seven foot man wearing a hockey mask and holding a giant machete. 

Fuck you really needed to stop watching horror movies if you survived this.

Opening your bedside drawer slowly you rummaged around looking for anything you could use as a weapon, but so far all your fingers had run over was a condom, a vibrator with dead batteries that you were supposed to have changed earlier in the day and something sharp that sliced your finger.

Hissing you pulled your hand out of the drawer as you brought your finger up to your face struggling to inspect it in the darkness of your room. You didn’t dare turn a light on and alert your intruder you were in here. The metallic taste of blood filtered through your nostrils and you wrinkled your nose in distaste. 

Something sharp. Fuck, you really were that idiot in the horror movie who gets killed first for being a dumb bitch. You couldn’t believe you hadn’t thought of this sooner! If you survived this night you were going to spend the rest of the year on your knees giving Bucky Barnes the best blowjobs of his fucking life.

Carefully you dipped your hand back into the drawer. Grasping the handle of the knife he had thrown in there after a particularly kinky night of sex you sighed in relief. It may not have been a phone to call for help, but it was better than nothing. 

On shaky legs you stood up only to freeze when you saw yellow light flooding beneath your door.

Any hopes of the creaking floorboard, of the heavy boots being a product of your overactive imagination flew out the window. Your heart plummeted to your stomach, your hand grew sweaty the handle of the knife nearly slipping out of you grasp. And when the deafening sound of thunder echoed through your room you nearly pissed yourself from fear.

You were really about to die tonight. A million things flashed through your mind. Regrets, unfulfilled promises, moments you would never get to experience, places you would never get to see. Tears filled your eyes, but no matter how much you told yourself to pull it together you couldn’t. You had never imagined dying in your dingy apartment alone.

Taking a shaky step towards your bedroom door you tried to formulate a plan in your mind, but all you could think about was Bucky. The last time you had kissed him, the last time you had held his hand, the last time you had laid curled up in his arms sated after a passionate night together.

But mostly you thought about the last thing you had said to him. It hadn’t been I love you like it usually was. No be careful. No be safe. No come back to me in one piece. No. The last thing you had said to him was he had better plan on spending the next week buried between your thighs putting that long tongue to good use after he been called away on a mission in the middle of swirling his tongue over your swollen clit. 

Closing your eyes you whimpered at the memory. You had spent the day in bed going at it like rabbits. With your legs thrown over his shoulders, sweat dripping down every crevice of your body, his large hands holding your thighs open to him he had lavished your clit with the attention of a man on a mission and fuck had he ever been on a mission. 

Writhing beneath his body your knuckles had been turning white with how tight you had been gripping your bedsheets. Right on the edge of what you were convinced would have been a mind blowing orgasm his phone had gone off and though you had begged him to ignore it, fucking cried that you were so close, so goddamn close and to please, please, please just let you cum the fucker had pulled away with a kiss to your dripping center telling you he couldn’t ignore it and that he’d make it up to when he came back.

It was the last time you had seen him, last time you had talked to him and now you were about to die thinking about the goddamn orgasm you had missed out on. What the hell was wrong with you?

Reaching your bedroom door you hesitantly grasped the doorknob frowning when your sweat soaked hand slipped right off it. Sucking in a deep breath, praying to whoever would listen you twisted the doorknob, wincing as the door squeaked on its hinges. So much for trying to sneak out of here unseen.

Your body moved on its own as your feet shakily carried you out of your bedroom and into the short hallway. A quick glance into the living room appeared to show nothing missing. Swinging your gaze to the kitchen you noticed your takeout boxes had been moved from the counter. What kind of sick fucker broke into someone’s apartment and ate their food? Granted, the food was definitely not edible after having been sitting out on the hot counter for hours, but still. You really were dealing with a monster. With the kitchen, your bedroom, and the living room cleared that only left the bathroom and the spare bedroom. 

The thought of walking in on some freaky Goldilocks killer taking a bath or taking a nap had you shuddering. Tilting your head to the side you closed your eyes listening to the rain, the thunder, the wind, but you didn’t hear any running water and while it didn’t rule out them being in the bathroom you weren’t about to go and check to be positive.

Taking slow, careful steps forward you padded across the living room and to the kitchen in search of your phone. You had left it next to the takeout boxes, but much like the boxes your phone was gone now too. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

Two options. 

You could stay and fight which despite Bucky trying to teach you how had been pretty much a disaster. Sure, you knew the basics, how to kick a guy in the balls, punch him the face, stab him in the eye, but that wasn’t going to do you much good if they got to you first.

The other option was running. Running out of your apartment, into the streets, anywhere but here. But your lack of clothing, the storm, the cut on your finger that had blood dripping down onto your leg was anybody going to take you seriously? And it wasn’t like you knew any of your neighbors who could help you.

Stay or go. 

Gasping at the low creaking of a door opening you crouched down on the kitchen floor holding the knife out in front of you. The apartment door was only a few feet to the right of you, but you were doubtful you could make it when footsteps echoed closer through your small apartment. The heavy steps matched the frantic beating of your heart. Sobs threatened to spill from your quivering lips. Slapping your free hand over your mouth your only hope was that whoever was in your apartment creeping closer couldn’t hear your muffled sobs. 

Adrenaline pumped through your veins and in a split second decision of stupidity or bravery you jumped up. Scrambling across the kitchen floor in your bare feet you came face to face with your intruder. 

Raising the knife your hand shook, your breath came out in heavy pants, your eyes were wide, your heart thundered and when lightning lit up your kitchen you let out a blood curdling scream as you lifted the knife and sliced through the air in a blind attempt to strike your attacker.

Like a scene straight out of a bad eighties horror movie where once again you were playing the dumb victim doomed to die your aim was off. Embarrassingly so, yet that didn’t stop you from trying again as you took a step forward slashing through the air screaming. If you couldn’t stab him maybe your screams would scare him off or at the very least alert your useless neighbors that you needed assistant.

“Y/N!”

He knew your name. Oh god. The killer in your apartment knew your name. 

Screaming at the top of your lungs you clutched the knife. Turning on your heels to run you yelped when a thick hand wrapped around your wrist holding you to the spot.

“Y/N!”

Blindly kicking at his shins, thrashing in his arms, you screamed, wildly waving the knife around in the air.

“Put the knife down!”

Out of breath with tears running down your face and scared shitless you watched helplessly as he grabbed the knife tossing it across the kitchen with such ease it was enough for you to stop your thrashing and your screaming.

As your eyes began to focus and a flash of lightning lit up your kitchen and the intruders face your jaw dropped in shock. 

“What the fuck are you doing!?” You yelled. 

Slamming your free hand against his chest repeatedly the adrenaline that had been pumping through your veins only moments before dissipated to surprise followed by anger.

"Shh it’s just me you gotta calm down, Y/N I didn’t mean to scare you, but you gotta calm down."

Ignoring his words you tried to yank your wrist free from his grasp, but he only tightened his hold. It was probably a good thing because you were about two seconds away from passing out. “You broke into my apartment!”

“I live here.”

Huffing you had no rebuttal to that, but that didn’t stop you from blurting out the first thing that came to mind no matter how ridiculous it sounded.

“Why were you stomping around like some serial killer? Huh Mr. I live here too and think it’s cool to give my girlfriend a heart attack!”

“I wasn’t stomping around,” he snapped, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “What are you doin’ waving my knife around like a maniac? You could've hurt yourself!”

“You left it in my bedside drawer! I didn’t have a choice I thought you were a murderer and my only options of defense was this or a dead vibrator!”

Breathing heavily you glared at him in the darkness amazed at the fact that no one had bothered to check on you after the screaming match that had occurred. Then again it wasn’t like your neighbors knew you. 

"What are you doing here? The mission a-and you always get me up when you come hone why didn’t you wake me?"

Loosening his grip on your wrist he pulled you close his hand going to the back of your head as he quietly shushed you. It was unusual for him to be taking care of you after a mission usually it was the other way around with you bandaging him up, asking him if he was okay, giving him space whatever the mood called for depending on how bad the mission had gone.

Though you were wrapped in his arms in what should have made you feel safe and secure your body shook like a leaf, ugly sobs wracking your frame over the what ifs that could have happened. Snot and tears stained his shirt by the time you finally pulled away.

"I could have hurt you, Bucky! What if i had stabbed you? You could have died!"

Lightning illuminated the room again lighting his face up and though it may have been your eyes playing a cruel trick on you you swore you saw a hint of a smirk on his lips.

"Doll, the way you were waving that knife around the only person you were gonna hurt was you."

Yanking free from his grasp you crossed your arms over your chest. 

"I’m glad you find this funny James!" You hissed, anger and fear lacing your words. 

Storming into the bathroom you flipped the light on flinching at not only the brightness but the reflection in the mirror. Wide, crazy eyes stared back at you. Your hair was a matted mess with sweat, your face burning hot with tears and snot drying on your nose. You looked like shit, but found it difficult to care about that when you almost fucking died tonight. The strap of your tank top slid down your arm as you forcefully turned the hot water on. Reaching for a washcloth you ran it under the water ignoring the stare of Bucky as he stood in the doorframe.

"I’m sorry," he started, stepping into the small room before taking a seat on the edge of the bathtub. Yanking his shirt over his head he tossed it in the hamper staring at your reflection in the mirror. "I knew it was late and it was selfish, but I needed to see you I figured you’d be sleepin’ so I was gonna crash in the spare room till morning. I really didn’t mean to scare you, doll.”

"Yeah, well you did," you mumbled like a petulant child. Turning to face him you frowned inspecting the various cuts and bruises that littered his face and chest. Gently lifting the washcloth to his face you wiped away the dried flecks of blood that dotted the corner of his mouth. Had you been in a better mood you would have made a joke about him being a vampire. 

"I’m sorry", he tried again. Resting his large hands on your hips he pulled you closer so you were standing in between his thick thighs as he laid his head on your stomach. 

Carding your fingers through his hair you closed your eyes. Your heart was still thundering beneath your chest and you were still convinced you were two seconds away from passing out, but as you stood between his legs listening to the rain and the wind pound against the windows for the first tine tonight you breathed an easy sigh.

"You don’t know how scared i was," you mumbled, choking on a sob. "And you know the worst part? I couldn’t stop thinking about how i didn’t even say i love you before you left. I could have died tonight and my last words weren’t even I love you." Choking on a strangled cry you collapsed against his bruised and battered chest the events of the past hour taking their toll on you as your knees gave out.

Holding tight to you he ran his hands down your back, against the back of your head all the while cooing that he had you and you were safe and he would never let any harm come to you no matter what.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that sobbing and eternally grateful in his arms that you were okay, that he was safe, that you were both going to be okay.

Kissing the top of your head, your forehead, your cheeks, the corner of your mouth he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. It was sweet and loving, the kind of kiss that was meant as an apology for a myriad of mistakes made by the both of you, the kind of kiss that sent your heart fluttering, your knees to shake, your stomach to fill with butterflies, the kind of kiss that if it could talk would whisper nothing but I love you, I love you, I love you.

But it wasn’t enough for you. Sliding your hands to his chest you gripped his hair yanking his head back as you kissed him hungrily. It was a desperate kiss, a sloppy kiss, a needy kiss, but he got the hint, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist as he roughly shoved his tongue into your mouth. Groaning he tore his lips away from yours only to kiss his way down your neck. "Never meant to scare you," he mumbled. "But maybe we should start those self defense classes back up."

Nodding your head at his kisses, at his apologies you never wanted him to stop, but his words had you frowning. 

"I had it under control."

But you didn’t. Had he been an actual killer like you had originally thought you would have been dead in a minute.

Chuckling he stroked your hip. "I love you, but you didn’t have anything under control." 

"Yeah, well," you sputtered. "Had you woken me up none of this would have happened!"

"I know," he sighed, regret tinging his words.

Staring down at his cloudy blue eyes, his tanned chest full of well defined muscles, those glorious thighs you quirked your lips up. "You could always make it up to me," you started, your voice sultry as your fingers stroked the back of his neck.

Catching on quickly he quirked his eyebrow up. 

"You did promise to spend the next week between my thighs... what do you say we make it two weeks and I’ll think about forgiving you?"

"You'll think about it? Honey, you'll forgive me after the first orgasm," he promised.

"Well, what are you waiting for?"

Squealing as he stood up and dragged you to your room you quickly forgot about the horror, the worries, the anxiety you had been through as a different kind of adrenaline filled your veins when he pushed you down onto your bed ready to make you scream for an entirely different set of reasons. 

#1ksillyqtchallenge #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #my writing

[pucksnsticksnhockeyboys]

neighbors

request: Can you do 14 with Tyson Jost?

prompt: “We're not just friends and you fucking know it.” / number 14 off of this list with Tyson Jost.

summary: It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that you would fall for your adorable neighbor Tyson.

warnings: mentions of alcohol, swearing

word count: 1.9k

You didn't exactly plan on crushing on your neighbor, nor did you plan on having him over for dinner three nights a week. Shortly after moving in, though, you realized the cute brunette who lived in the apartment next door had limited survival skills. 

Tyson Jost may be a professional athlete, but he had next to zero domestic capabilities and you had found that out one day, completely by chance. You were upset after having been bailed on this guy you were seeing on and off, and after receiving a text from him that he was getting back with his ex, and that whatever was going on between the two of you was over. You wouldn't have been so furious if he hadn’t asked to you cook dinner for him before dropping the bombshell. 

You turned off the stove and were about to head to the store to pick up a much needed bottle of wine when you heard your neighbor bickering with his friend outside their door. You weren’t completely dumb, you recognized them as Tyson Jost and JT Compher from Denver’s very own Colorado Avalanche. 

“You’re not cooking, Josty. I’d rather not get food poisoning.” The redhead teased as they stood outside Tyson’s door. They were debating on where to go and you couldn’t help but overhear as you dug around in your bag to try and find you keys in order to lock your door. 

“I really don’t want to go out, though.” Tyson explained, and you suddenly felt braver than you usually did. You figured your boost of confidence was due to annoyance for being bailed on and played. 

“I, uh, have a whole meal cooked if you guys want to come over?” You offered, both men snapping their heads to you. You felt your cheeks heat up, but then a wide smile broke out across Tyson’s face. You were a little consoled by the fact that his face turned a little red too. 

“Are you sure? We don’t want to intrude?” JT spoke first, gesturing between himself and Tyson, the latter of which who hadn't stopped smiling at you.  “Trust me, no one’s showing up to intrude on.” You replied, a little sad but mostly upset and JT nodded at you with a comforting smile on his face. Tyson must not have understood what you meant, because he was looking between his teammate and his neighbor, trying to figure out what he could’ve missed. 

“Do you want us to bring anything?” Tyson gave up on trying to silently ask JT to catch him up, instead turning to you and gesturing with his thumb into his own apartment. 

“Just a bottle of wine.” You grinned, leaning against the frame of your door and watching as the two boys chuckled.  “Unless you don’t like chicken and veggies, I’ve got everything.” 

“I’m Tyson, by the way.” He introduced himself, walking closer to you as JT slipped back into his teammate’s apartment, muttering that he wanted to pick the wine. 

“I know.” You told Tyson, entering back into your apartment and moving back into the kitchen, the food you had abandoned on the counter still warm. You turned back to find Tyson leaning against the counter, taking in the room and cataloging how different the way you decorated was to his apartment. “Kind of a big hockey fan.”

It was then that Tyson’s attention returned to you, and with a smile he watched as you stood on your tip-toes to reach the wine glasses, you giving him your name as casually as you could with someone as attractive as him studying you. You heard him chuckle behind you, crossing the small kitchen easily to grab three glasses for you.

“You should probably put these on the lower shelf.” Tyson teased, and you rolled your eyes. 

“We can’t all be six feet tall and a professional athlete.” You teased back, feeling a lot less upset than you should for someone who just found out they’d been strung along for the better part of two months. 

“Well, I’ll try to use my advantages for good.” Tyson teased, and before you could respond with something witty, and maybe even a little flirty, JT knocked on you front which you had left open for him. You were glad he announced his arrival, you didn’t want him walking in and embarrassing yourself by him possibly overhearing your banter. 

Two months later and you still hadn’t moved the wine glasses to a lower shelf. But, turns out, it didn’t matter much, because on most nights when you wanted to break out the wine, you were accompanied by your new best friend and neighbor, Tyson Jost.

Of course, with his crazy hockey schedule, he wasn’t always there, but he was at your place enough and you had developed a crush on him. It felt practically inevitable, with how attractive he was and his sheer adorableness. He would say things that were pretty oblivious, and sometimes downright dumb, but it was endearing and you quickly found yourself swooning. 

“Tys, what are you doing?” You questioned, somewhat serious though thoroughly amused. He had been clattering in your kitchen for the past fifteen minutes, saying that he wanted to cook you dinner in return for feeding him so often and that you had to stay in the living room so you wouldn’t ruin the surprise. You question was met with the crash of pots and pans, and you heard Tyson swear lowly.

“Uh, cooking?” He sounded so unsure of himself, and probably due to good reason, that you laughed loudly at him. You paused the show you were watching, walking to your kitchen but before you could enter the room, he heard you footsteps and yelled for you to stay out. “I want it to be a surprise when I’m done.” You could hear the pout in his voice, and a smile tugged the corner of your lips upwards.

“Well, I don’t trust you to be in the kitchen alone.” You stood just outside kitchen, complying with his wishes but voicing your thoughts. 

“Don’t worry, I’m helping him.” A female voice called from your kitchen, and you furrowed your brows tightly, wondering just when someone else had shown up and how they had managed to sneak past you into the kitchen. Then you placed the voice as someone you had met a few times through Tyson. Mel Landeskog, the wife of his captain. The swell of jealously that grew in your chest at the thought of someone else being with Tyson turned into warmth that he had called his captain's wife for cooking tips.

You pointedly ignored the fact that you momentarily turned green with jealousy. 

“Hi, Mel.” You chuckled, hearing her laugh in response. “Just make sure he doesn’t burn my apartment down, please.” With a laugh she promised to keep your kitchen safe and told you that she was making sure whatever food Tyson made was edible, to which he protested indignantly.

Laughing in amusement, you returned to your spot on the couch to let him finish cooking and left you to analyze your whole situation with the professional hockey player cooking you dinner. You knew things had always been a little bit flirty with him, but he had never done anything past a few compliments followed by him blushing profusely. 

By the time that he had told you everything was set up for you in the kitchen, your thoughts had spiraled into overanalyzing every interaction you’ve ever had with him. He met you in the doorway of the kitchen, his large frame blocking your view from whatever he had done on the other side. 

Your heart was thundering in your chest as you took in his appearance. He was dressed in a simple pair of jeans and a comfortable sweater with the sleeves pushed up. To make the whole scenario more domestic, he had a dish towel tossed over his shoulder. He was smiling widely at you, nervously wringing his hands in front of him. 

“Close your eyes, and then I'm going to lead you into the kitchen.” There was a nervous edge to his voice that didn’t help calm you. When you nodded and closed your eyes, Tyson moved from the doorway to stand beside you, placing his hand over your eyes. “Just to make sure you're not peaking.” 

“You make me nervous.” You sighed, ignoring the flutter in your stomach at his touch. His other hand fell to the small of your back to help lead you around, and as soon as you entered the kitchen you were met with the smell of pasta that drew a soft smile onto your face. He only moved you a few feet into the so soon enough he was stopping you. 

“Okay, so before you open you eyes, just know that I totally plan on doing the dishes later.” He explained, and though the comment drew a breathy chuckle out of you, it did nothing to soothe the fear that some drastic change was about to happen between you and Tyson. The air was charged with an almost unreadable energy, and all you could do was nod at him. 

Tyson removed his hand from its place covering your eyes and when you took in the sight before you, you felt your jaw drop. He had set your kitchen table with plates of spaghetti and your favorite roasted vegetables, a meal easy enough that he wouldn't screw it up, especially with Mel’s help. A couple candles were lit on the table and counters, and he had even gone as far setting up a bouquet of flowers next to a bottle of champagne. 

“I know that this is a lot, considering we’re just friends...” Tyson trailed off and you shook your head, dismissing any negative thoughts he might've formed about your silence. Your thoughts were racing a thousand miles a minute as your heart thundered in your chest. “If it's too much, then I can just go—”

“We're not just friends and you fucking know it.” You cut him off, knowing that if you didn't get it off your chest now you never would. You spun slightly, turning away from the table and towards him, who had been shuffling nervously on his feet behind you trying to gauge your reaction. He was looking at you with a confused look on his face, but it was obvious that he had been blushing profusely. “Tyson, we’re not just friends.”

“Yeah, we’re not.” He agreed, smiling dumbly. The overwhelmed look on your face morphed into a grin as you realized your bold statement had been just as true for him as it was for you. “Friends don’t do all this, I guess.” He gestured to the table and you laughed.

“No, they don’t.” You agreed, your voice barely above a whisper. You couldn't hold yourself back anymore, not when he was standing in the candlelight, surrounded by the smell of good food and looking so domestic. 

You launched yourself at him, cupping his cheeks in your hands and pulling him down slightly to meet you halfway as you pushed yourself up onto your tippy toes to crash your lips onto his. He leaned down after you, not keen on breaking the kiss so soon as you balanced yourself back on your feet. His hands settled on your waist, and even when you pulled back for air he didn't remove them. Still, he was smiling at you with his adorable grin and even when you spoke next and your cheeks hurt from your own grin your voice was still hushed.

“C’mon, Tys, let’s see if you’re as bad a cook as JT says.”

#tyson jost #Tyson Jost imagine #Tyson Jost imagines #Tyson Jost x reader #colorado avalanche #colorado avalanche imagines #colorado avalanche imagine #Colorado Avalanche x reader #nhl #NHL imagines #nhl imagine #hockey #hockey imagine #hockey imagines