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letmehavemyfictionalmen · 1 year

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Star Crossed; Star-Collide: chapter I

Summary: As a bounty hunter, Din has completed his mission, however, he is unbeknownst to the storm that will knock the wind out of him, literally.

pairing: Din Djarin x afab!Skywalker!reader

warning: 18+ content, Eventual smut, Unprotected sex, Violence, Blood, Age-Gap, Kidnapping, Domestic Bliss, Fluff, a sprinkle of Angst, Idiots in love, Flirting, possessive!Din, powerful!reader, Jedi!reader, Grogu being adorable, Grogu loves his Ma more than his buir.

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The Nevarro desert sprawls out before you, a vast canvas of parched earth that seems to stretch beyond the horizon. Endless dunes of golden sand undulate like a sea frozen in time, while jagged rocks jut out like the teeth of some great beast, scattered haphazardly across the landscape.

The winds whisper a mournful song, carrying with them the sense of utter isolation and a haunting desolation. There is no life in this forsaken place, only the vast emptiness of the shifting sands and a never-ending solitude that engulfs everything in its path.

The star above glows with fervor, its radiance spilling over the land, igniting a heat that suffuses every grain of sand. The air trembles with the sun's intensity, the weight of its brilliance pressing down upon the desert like a hammer.

As if locked in a dance with the arid earth, the sun paints the world in shades of gold and ochre, conjuring an austere beauty in the midst of its scorching assault.

You traverse the vastness of the desert, silence reigning supreme, broken only by the sound of sand crunching beneath your feet. The untamed essence of this barren land engulfs you, but you remain unrelenting, unwavering in your quest

The ivory of your Jedi robes glows against the ashen sand, stark and luminous against the muted desert backdrop. The black of your belt and boots adds depth to your monochrome attire, and your cloak, rippling behind you like a shadow, lends an air of mystery to your austere appearance.

Looking every bit of Obi-Wan’s apprentice, A hushed voice travels with the wind, caressing your ears. You recognize it instantly, the familiar timbre of your mentor Obi-Wan.

Gliding alongside you is Beeb, your trusty astromech droid, a blur of orange and white against the beige sand. Its head, round and dome-shaped, swivels with a keen and curious eye, scanning the endless surroundings.

The stillness of the desert is interrupted only by the gentle hum of Beeb's servos, harmonizing with the soft whisper of the wind.

You watch over him with a protective gaze, your heart filling with a maternal sense of duty. "Take care, little one," you whisper, your voice carried away by the hot winds.

Beeb zips back to your side, emitting a joyful chirp that resonates with the purity of a bird's song happily. Your lips curl into a crescent moon of joy, a twinkle in your eye as you witness Beeb's playful antics.

Beeb swivels his dome-shaped head, emitting a series of chirps and whistles that resemble a curious inquiry. ‘Mama, where are we going?’

A soft chuckle escapes your lips, as if carried on a breeze of mirth at Beeb’s innocent query.

Patting his metallic head and rubbing it as in a way to ruffle his hair gently. "There is a child, Beeb. We must rescue him from the Imperial Remnant." Your voice imbued with unshakable resolve.

‘A child! I get a sibling. That means R2D2 won’t tease me for being the youngest.’ Beeb lets out a series of excited chirps, almost child-like in nature. His head spins around in every direction, as if searching for the little one himself.

A beam of happiness spreads across your face at Beeb's enthusiasm, feeling a sense of warmth in your heart. It's been a long time since you've seen anyone so purely happy and carefree.

It reminds you of your own childhood, before the weight of the galaxy was thrust upon your shoulders.

"I know, Beeb. He's quite the special little guy. I can't wait for you to meet him." Your words are punctuated by a gentle laugh.

The little droid chirps with excitement, his movements quick and sprightly. You follow closely, trying to keep up with his energy as he rolls ahead, leading the way.

The endless expanse of desert still stretches out before you, but Beeb's child-like enthusiasm brings a sense of joy to the journey.

Together, you press on through the harsh terrain, Beeb's infectious happiness making each step a little lighter, each gust of sand a little more bearable.

Through the cacophonous streets of Nevarro, Din strides with a solemn gait, the metallic plates of his armor echoing a rhythmic beat that echoes through the throng of people.

The bustling market envelops the city streets, stalls brimming with wares to behold. Each vendor calls out to passersby, their voices echoing through the narrow alleys as hurried feet beat a steady rhythm on the worn stones beneath.

Din threads his way through the thriving market, the polished metal of his armor gleaming in the scorching sun, capturing the attention of every passerby.

Undeterred by the chaos of the busy market and the looks he receives, Din strides forward with a sense of purpose.

His attention remains steadfast on the task at hand, his thoughts consumed by the mission that has brought him back to this bustling city.

Din treads deeper into the maze of Nevarro's streets, slipping between shadows and darting through sunlight, his every step deliberate and steady as he navigates the twisting alleys.

As Din rounds the corner, his gaze falls upon the entrance to the clandestine Imperial facility, nestled amid the bustling Nevarro market. But in his periphery, a lone rubbish bin catches his eye, discarded and forgotten in the dusty shadows of the narrow alleyway.

Gazing into the dusty bin, Din beholds a heartbreaking sight - the remnants of the child's floating pram now shattered and broken beyond repair.

Din's heart sears with fiery pain, his gaze fixated upon the shattered remnants of the child's once safe haven. The pram, once a symbol of hope and protection, now lies destroyed, its pieces scattered amongst the filth and debris.

Regret grips Din like a vice, squeezing his heart with a brutal force as he recalls the moment he surrendered the Child to the Imperial Remnants.

His fists coil and release, a surge of guilt overwhelming him. A sense of failure seizes his heart, a heavy burden he bears as he paces the alley.

His mind whirls, seeking a solution to the wrongs he's allowed to befall the innocent. A plan he must devise, a way to redeem himself and rescue the Child from the hands of the Imperials.

A burden of guilt crushes his heart as he comprehends the peril that the Child faces. He senses the urgency to act, to save the innocent one from harm's way.

Filled with righteous fury and a burning desire for retribution, Din sets off on a path of vengeance.

For the Empire's cruelty to the Child, they will pay a fee. A debt that only he, the Mandalorian, can claim.

Prostrate atop a terrace, far removed from the grasp of the Imperial agents, Din steadies his gaze through the Amban sniper's lens, locked on the looming Imperial stronghold.

A soft touch to his helmet's earpiece and the mechanism within it hums with life, carrying distant conversations to Din's ear.

Static echoes in Din's ears, as he moves the sniper lens, trying the locate the Child, however, as he scans the base, his attention is drawn to a new scene unfolding before him: the thermal image of the Imperial client and Dr. Pershing.

Their voices, distant and distorted, crackle through his comms. He adjusts the frequency, tuning out the static until the conversation between the Imperial client and Dr. Pershing fills his ears like poison.

"I don't care." The Imperial clients travel through Din's comms. "I order you to extract the necessary material and be done with it."

The Imperial agent's orders blare through Din's comms, their cold and callous tones cutting through his heart like a blade. "I don't care. I order you to extract the necessary material and be done with it." they command as if the life of a child is nothing but a mere trifle to be disposed of at will.

For a while, the voices fade into the hiss of static, the words drowned in a sea of white noise.

With a gentle twist of the knob, Din awaits the return of the conversation, the static hum slowly dissipating, and the sound of voices filling the air once more.

The doctor's voice breaks the silence, his words dripping with obedience, "He has explicitly ordered us to bring it back alive."

"Finish your business quickly, as I no longer can guarantee your safety." The Imperial Client's words travel through the air, a warning of imminent danger.

The beskar helmet conceals the furrow on Din's brow, perplexed by the Imperial Client's cryptic words.

No longer guarantee the safety of the doctor? What is the Imperial agent talking about? Who was this threat that shook the resolve of this hidden Imperial base?

It fills Din with an unknown sense of relief as he realizes that the Imperial agents fear something to the point where they longer feel safe hiding here. For if they fear something enough to flee, then perhaps the Child may yet have a chance at survival.

Thoughts race through Din's mind as he surveys the scene, his voice muffled by the helmet that conceals his emotions. "What are they afraid of? Who is this threat?"

"It is I, they fear, Mandalorian."

A tense stillness grips Din's form, as a distinct hum, like a shrill electrical buzz, reverberates through the air behind him.

Amidst the chaos of his thoughts, a moment of reckoning grips Din like a vice, and he curses himself for his lack of vigilance. His eyes, once sharp and alert, now narrow with anger and frustration, as he realizes the gravity of his mistake.

With steady hands, Din relinquishes his grip on the rifle, previously trained upon the Imperial stronghold. Silently, with calculated precision, his hand glides downward, towards the leather holster secured to his left thigh, where the blaster rests within its sheath.

With quickness unmatched, Din draws his weapon from its sheath, rolling onto his back in one fluid motion. From this vulnerable position, he trains the weapon on the looming figure standing behind him, ready to defend himself against any threat.

Confronting him is a presence, tall and imposing. The figure is draped in flowing white robes, the starkness of which is accented by a contrasting black belt.

Behind them, a cloak of the deepest black dances in the wind, as if daring anyone to challenge the power of the one who wears it.

The figure holds a weapon that Din has only heard in a hushed tone, spoken in reverential tones and remembered with reverence, for those who wielded it were lost to the purge, gone without a trace.

The once-forgotten weapon, now in the possession of an enigmatic form, is wielded with practiced ease and lethal finesse, each hand brandishing one of the glowing blades.

Din offers gratitude to the stars above, for the knowledge imparted by the Armourer, which he now recalls as a child, the different variations of the lightsabers.

The Mandalorian's gaze fixates on the left hand of the figure, beholding the double-bladed lightsaber glowing in hues of royal purple, while the right-hand holds a dual-phased lightsaber emanating a vivid green radiance.

"A Jetii." Din's lips part, his breath caught in his chest as he beholds the figure before him, a being of power and ancient wisdom.

"A Mandalorian." The words uttered by the figure are infused with a sense of serenity, a voice of balance and control.

The voice of the figure reaches Din's ears, and a sudden realization dawns upon him. This is no mere figure, but a woman of immense power, her words carrying a weight that stirs something deep within him.

A shiver runs down his spine, as he realizes the magnitude of his opponent - a Jetii, armed with weapons of deadly prowess. He knows he stands no chance against such might.

Din's senses flare with a sudden urgency, and his body responds with a lightning-quick roll, narrowly evading the Jetii's sudden lunge. His muscles tense, his reflexes honed from a life of constant danger.

The graceful and deadly strike of her dual lightsabers slices through the air where Din had been just a moment before. The sound of the humming blades echoes off the surrounding structures, a symphony of danger and death.

Din's heart races with adrenaline as he quickly springs to his feet, his own weapons at the ready. He knows he's outmatched, but he refuses to go down without a fight.

Din regains his footing with a graceful sway, his blaster at the ready, aimed at the Jetii. Yet her movements are too swift, her form too lithe, as she sidesteps each shot with poise and ease, the double-bladed lightsaber a blur of purple, effortlessly blocking his every attempt.

Din grunts as he swiftly steps back, creating distance between himself and the woman. With fluid motions, he draws his amban rifle/spear from his back, ready for the woman's next move. As she lunges towards him with her green lightsaber, Din expertly parries her attack.

Din charges forward, his rifle at the ready, but the woman is too quick. She leaps over him, somersaulting in mid-air, and lands behind him. Before he can turn around, she delivers a swift kick to his back, sending him sprawling to the ground.

Stepping forward, the woman's words are sharp and unforgiving. "You are a Mandalorian, revered warrior. Family is paramount to you, younglings are precious to your kind. I have respect for your way of life, but I must ask, why did you surrender the Child to the Imperials?"

Din tries to stand up but he is still disoriented from the kick. He glares at the woman, anger simmering within him. "That's none of your business," he growls, his hand hovering over his holster.

He doesn't know who she is or how she knows about the Child, but her words hit him hard.

The woman narrows her eyes, her lightsabers still ignited. "It is my business when it concerns the safety of a child. The Jedi are the guardians of peace and justice in the galaxy, even though there are only two left, it is our duty to protect those who cannot protect themselves."

Din grits his teeth and slowly pushes himself back up, his eyes never leaving the Jetii. "It's complicated," he answers, his voice tense.

The woman tilts her head, her eyes probing. "Complicated," she repeats, a note of skepticism in her voice.

"I am a Mandalorian. Our code of honour includes fulfilling one's obligations and completing jobs. I was obliged by my creed to finish the job." Din tries to reason but knows that even the Mandalorians don't leave children behind.

The woman's stance stiffens, her body a seething cauldron of rage, emanating a fiery aura. "Your creed should also include protecting the innocent, especially the young. You know as well as I do that the Imperials won't treat that child kindly. You had a chance to make a difference, to save a life, and you chose to ignore it."

Din's head droops in shame, the weight of the woman's words crushing him. He has fallen short of his Mandalorian code, failing to protect the youngling. "I... I know. I was wrong," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "I have to make it right. I have to get him back."

The woman's lightsabers fall silent, their deadly hum fading as she deactivates them. Din's gaze follows as she gracefully returns the weapons to her belt, then lowers the hood that had obscured her face.

And wow.

Din's heart quickens its pace as the woman lowers her hood, revealing her face at last. But it is not just her physical beauty that holds him captive. In her eyes, there burns a fierce intensity, a wisdom that he has never before encountered. 4

Her gaze pierces through him like a blaster bolt, and he feels a strange stirring within him, a stirring of awe and admiration.

It feels like she is seeing straight into the depths of his soul. A captivating aura emanates from her, enveloping Din in a trance-like state.

At this moment, all of his thoughts, concerns, and fears seem to vanish, leaving him lost in the hypnotic gaze of this enigmatic woman.

Din's mind goes blank as he gazes upon her, forgetting the conflict that had brought them face to face. The way the light dances around her, the gentle slope of her features, the spark in her gaze - all of it blends together to create a breathtaking portrait that he cannot help but be captivated by.

Her voice echoes in Din's mind, her words piercing through his thoughts like a sharp blade. He feels the weight of her gaze upon him, and he struggles to maintain his composure. Her presence is like a force of nature, commanding his attention with ease.

As she speaks, he finds himself lost in the rhythm of her words, the cadence of her voice like a soothing melody. He tries to focus on what she is saying, but his mind is distracted by the beauty of her being. The way she speaks, the way she stands it's as if he's in a dream that he never wants to wake up from.

'You're not a boy anymore,' he reminds himself, 'you're a bounty hunter, a Mandalorian.' The words echo in his mind, a mantra to steel himself.

He musters all his inner strength, fighting against the temptation to be entranced by her allure. He forces his mind back to the present, determined to cast aside the alluring distractions and attend to the matter at hand.

"I'll do whatever it takes to make it right," Din declares, his voice filled with a deep-seated conviction.

The woman nods a sense of understanding in her eyes. "I believe you," she says softly. "But words are meaningless without action. If you truly want to make it right, then you must find the Child and bring him back to his own kind, where he will be safe and learn more about himself."

He nods, determination setting in. "I won't let him be hurt."

The woman regards Din for a moment, before extending her hand out to help him up. "Good," she says, motioning to the Imperial Base with her head. "Because we have work to do."

Din feels a wave of gratitude washes over him at the woman's words. He had been so sure he was doing the right thing by handing the child over to the Imperials, but now he realizes the gravity of his mistake.

Accepting the woman's outstretched hand, Din rises to his feet, his heart still racing from the intensity of the fight. He looks at her with deep appreciation and nods in gratitude. The woman takes a step back, giving him space to retrieve his weapons from the ground.

As Din's hands reach for his rifle on the ground, a flicker of movement catches his attention from the corner of his eye, and his muscles tense as he recognizes the source.

Din's gaze follows as an astromech droid BB-8 unit rolls out from its spot, and over to the woman. Her smile shines like a sunbeam, casting a warm glow over everything around her. She kneels in front of the droid and tenderly pats its spherical head, a gesture that seems to radiate with pure kindness.

Din's eyes narrow, a flicker of suspicion crossing his features as he observes the woman's interaction with the astromech droid. His gut churns with a deep-seated distrust of the machines, borne from past traumas and scars.

The weight shifts on his feet, his body poised like a coiled spring, ready to strike if the droid were to make any sudden moves.

The woman senses Din's unease and rises to her feet, turning her gaze toward him. "Don't worry, Beeb has been with me since I was a child. He is on our side." she says reassuringly, a faint smile gracing her lips.

Din remains skeptical, but the woman's words give him pause. He relaxes slightly but keeps a watchful eye on the droid. "I've had my fair share of run-ins with droids. Can't say I trust them much," he admits gruffly.

The woman nods in understanding. "I understand, but please know that I built him myself and imbued him with the same spirit of loyalty and honor that I strive to embody. He has been with my brother and me through the toughest of battles. You have nothing to fear from him, Mandalorian."

Din considers her words for a moment, then gives a curt nod. "I'll take your word for it, but if that thing tries anything funny, he's getting a blaster bolt to the head."

The woman chuckles. "I wouldn't expect any less from a Mandalorian. But I assure you, Beeb is on our side."

As if sensing his hesitation, Beeb lets out a series of friendly beeps and chirps, rolling closer to Din and nuzzling against his leg. Din glances down at the droid, surprised by the show of affection.

The woman smiles knowingly, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "See? He's harmless."

Din grudgingly nods, still unsure of the droid's intentions. But he knows that he can trust the woman and by extension, Beeb. For now, at least.

Approaching him with confidence, the woman strides towards Din, her height just slightly shorter than his own. As she draws nearer, she speaks her name with a voice as soothing as a gentle stream and extends her hand for him to take, a gesture of respect and greeting.

Din takes a moment to compose himself before taking her hand, feeling a jolt of electricity shoot up his arm as they shake hands. He quickly withdraws his hand and takes a step back, surprised at his own reaction.

The woman raises an eyebrow, noticing his sudden shift in demeanor. "Is something wrong?" she asks, her voice laced with concern.

Din shakes his head, trying to push aside the strange sensation that lingers in his hand. "No, nothing's wrong. It's just that...I don't usually shake hands with strangers."

The woman chuckles softly, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I understand. But I hope we can become more than strangers, Mandalorian."

"Mando. Call me Mando." Din says finally, the word rolling off his tongue with a certain weight.

He can sense the woman's surprise at his response, but he remains firm. He has learned to keep his true name hidden, even from those he trusts.

The woman's gaze locks onto Din's, and as she speaks his name, it rolls off her tongue like a sweet melody, a word to be savored and cherished. "Mando," she murmurs, her voice carrying the weight of reverence and admiration.

A stirring sensation dances in Din's chest as the woman utters his name once more. He's never heard it spoken with such curiosity and esteem, and the sound of it from her lips sends shivers down his spine.

"Shall we go, Mando?" With a graceful motion of her hand, the woman gestures toward the direction they should take.

Din nods in understanding, feeling drawn to her enigmatic presence. "Lead the way," he says, a subtle hint of admiration in his voice.

With steadfast purpose, the pair sets out on their journey, each step resolute and unyielding. Their goal is clear, a daunting challenge ahead, as Beeb follows along faithfully. Their mission: to rescue the Child, to keep the Imperial Agents at bay, and to ensure the youngling's safety at all costs.

Tag list: @babygirlrex0504 @alienated-green-tea @fatima-marisa @dindjarindude @sharin1806 @ruthyalva96 @avengersfan25

☼ Please note that I do not wish to have my work translated or published on any third party reading websites. I claim the rights to my work.

☼ Where I don’t have any rights to the characters, many ideas and OC are my own creation. Please respect that.

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666melvin666 · 10 months

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WARNING MENTION OF SERIOUS INJURY AND BODY HORROR

Jack's heart pounded in his chest as he heard the guttural screams piercing through the air. The cries echoed with a sense of anguish and despair, sending a shiver down his spine. His instincts kicked into overdrive, overriding any fear or hesitation as he recognized the voice—his beloved husband, John.

Without a second thought, Jack sprinted towards the source of the screams, his worry fueling his determination. The forest blurred around him as he pushed himself to the limits, desperately trying to reach John, to offer him solace and support in his time of need.

As Jack approached the scene, the agonizing cries grew silent… Jack's gaze swept across the eerie forest, the flickering light of the torch revealed a scene that sent a chill down his spine. His heart raced, and fear clutched at his chest as his eyes fell upon the lifeless form of a large wolf sprawled on the ground. The forest floor was marred with a vast pool of blood, a stark reminder of the violence that had transpired.

Panic gripped Jack's soul as he called out, his voice trembling with desperation and anguish. "John? John! Oh God, where are you?" His words echoed through the silence, bouncing off the surrounding trees, but there was no immediate response.

His mind raced with horrific possibilities, the worst scenarios taking hold of his imagination. Fear mingled with determination as he fought against the paralyzing grip of despair. Jack's grip tightened on the torch, its flickering light casting long shadows that danced eerily in the surrounding darkness.

With each step, Jack ventured further into the ominous forest, his heart pounding in his ears. He followed the trail of blood, his eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of his beloved husband. The weight of uncertainty bore down upon him, the gnawing fear of the unknown clawing at his resolve.

Suddenly, a rustling sound reached Jack's ears. His head snapped towards the direction of the noise, hope mingling with trepidation. As Jack's gaze swept through the darkened forest, his eyes widened in sheer terror as they fell upon a monstrous sight. There, before him, sprawled a hulking figure—a feral-looking wolf, its body twisted and contorted. Its snarling mouth revealed jagged, glistening fangs, and its eyes glowed with an unsettling, otherworldly intensity.

Fear gripped Jack's heart, his breath catching in his throat. The torch trembled in his hand as the flickering light cast eerie shadows across the creature's grotesque form. Frozen in place, Jack could only watch in horror as the werewolf writhed and thrashed on the forest floor.

Dread washed over him as he realized the magnitude of the danger that now lurked in their midst. The primal instincts of the beast, the untamed fury that emanated from its very being, sent a shiver down Jack's spine. He felt the weight of its presence, a force that threatened to slaughter everything in its path.

As his mind raced, panic giving way to a desperate determination, Jack's eyes darted around the surroundings, searching for any sign of his husband, John. The forest seemed to hold its breath, as if it too understood the imminent peril that loomed. The wolf lunged forward, its jaws wide open, Jack's survival instincts kicked into overdrive. With adrenaline surging through his veins, he reacted with a split-second decision, thrusting the wooden handle of the torch directly into the creature's gaping maw.

Time seemed to slow as the wood made contact with the wolf's teeth, its snarls turning into muffled growls. Jack pushed with all his strength, using the torch as a makeshift barrier, desperately trying to keep the deadly jaws at bay.

The creature thrashed and clawed, its eyes wild with fury.

As the werewolf's claws tore through the air, time seemed to slow to a crawl. Jack's world shattered in an instant as searing pain ripped through his face. A primal scream tore from his throat, a haunting crescendo that echoed through the depths of the forest.

Agony engulfed Jack's senses, threatening to consume his every thought. His vision swam with a haze of red, his mind struggling to maintain focus amidst the torrent of pain. He clutched at his mutilated cheek, his fingers coated in the warmth of his own blood.

Jack cried out with a raw, guttural scream that pierced through the stillness of the night. The sound reverberated through the trees, a desperate plea that carried the weight of his suffering and his overwhelming sense of vulnerability.

ack's anguished cries pierced through the air, a sudden and dramatic shift occurred within the werewolf. Time seemed to stand still as the creature froze, its entire body locked in a state of tense stillness. The snarling maw that had moments ago exuded ferocity now hung open, motionless.

A profound silence settled over the forest, as if even nature itself held its breath in awe of the spectacle unfolding before it. The werewolf's eyes, once filled with wild fury, now mirrored the torment of a soul caught in an internal struggle. A battle of conflicting desires raged within, tearing at the fabric of its being.

The monstrous form of the werewolf trembled, its entire body quivering as the war within raged on. Its primal instincts clashed with the flickering ember of humanity that remained. Growls of aggression transformed into whimpers of agony, as if the creature fought against its own nature, desperate to reclaim control.

Jack laid on the ground, his body wracked with sobs, the pain from his torn and bloodied ripped face radiated through his entire being. He felt broken, vulnerable, and utterly defenseless. His heart pounded with a mixture of fear and despair, convinced that the approaching wolf meant his imminent demise.

Through tear-filled eyes, Jack watched as the wolf, once a terrifying presence, now moved towards him with cautious and hesitant steps. Its massive frame seemed to shrink, its fierce gaze replaced by a flicker of something else—something resembling remorse.

The wolf's movements were slow and deliberate, as if it sensed Jack's anguish and wanted to convey a newfound understanding. As it drew nearer, Jack's cries intensified, a desperate plea for mercy mingled with the pain of his injuries “NO NOOO GO AWAY GO AWAYYY”.

But then, in an act that defied expectation, the wolf bowed its head, its body language conveying a submissive posture. Confusion warred within Jack's shattered heart. He couldn't comprehend the sudden shift in the wolf's demeanor. Had it come to finish what it had started, or was there something more beneath its fearsome exterior?

Through the haze of his tears, Jack reached out a trembling hand, hesitating for a moment before gently stroking the wolf's fur. In that touch, he felt a surge of warmth, a connection that transcended the boundaries of their separate existences.

As if in response to Jack's touch, the wolf let out a mournful whimper, its eyes brimming with a mixture of sorrow and empathy.

And so, with the wolf at his side, Jack began to rise from the ground, his movements cautious and deliberate.

As Jack struggled to find his footing, his wounded body trembling with pain and exhaustion, the wolf moved closer, its large, sturdy frame providing a steadying presence. With gentle nudges and careful movements, the wolf guided Jack to balance himself on its broad back.

Surprised and uncertain, Jack cautiously wrapped his arms around the wolf's thick fur, seeking support as he gingerly rose to his feet. The wolf, in turn, adjusted its posture, its muscles tense with the weight it now carried. Jack's strength waned, his weakened body could no longer maintain its balance on the wolf's back. Exhausted and overcome by pain, he collapsed, his body crumpling against the beast's fur. Understanding the gravity of the situation, John, in a moment of clarity, made a decision.

With a mix of determination and tenderness, John transformed his posture, his large form carefully lowering itself to the ground. Gently and with utmost care, he positioned Jack onto his back, allowing him to rest against his strong, furred frame.

Jack's trembling limbs found solace and support on John's back, their connection a lifeline amidst the darkness. John's own pain was momentarily forgotten as he focused on the task at hand — carrying his wounded husband out of the treacherous forest and back to the safety of their home.

As Jack's trembling hands caressed the wolf's neck in a silent expression of gratitude, his touch brushed against something unexpected—the familiar weight of a gold necklace. His fingers traced the pendant, his heart skipping a beat as realization dawned upon him. The necklace, a precious memento that John had cherished, now adorned the wolf before him.

Tears welled in Jack's eyes as he looked deeply into the wolf's gaze, searching for a glimmer of recognition amidst the enigmatic depths. A mixture of awe, disbelief, and love washed over him as he whispered the name that now carried a profound meaning. "John..."

In that moment, as John's transformation settled upon Jack, he found himself torn between astonishment and the painful truth that lay before him. His voice, a mere whisper, quivered with vulnerability as he softly questioned, "My love, what happened to you?" With a bittersweet smile playing on his lips, Jack embraced John's neck, his touch a gentle reassurance amidst the tumultuous emotions that swirled within him. "I still love you, John," he whispered, his voice filled with tenderness and understanding. "Do not worry, my love. I am not angry.” In that moment of vulnerability and acceptance, Jack's words offered solace to the soul of his beloved. He embraced the entirety of John's existence, from the untamed wilderness within to the tender heart that had beaten in unison with his own.

Finally, they crossed the threshold of their home, the familiar sights and sounds embracing them with a comforting familiarity. John laid Jack gently down, their eyes locked in an unspoken understanding. In their shared sanctuary, they would find healing, solace, and the unwavering support of their love.

In that sacred space, their journey would continue, as they navigated the complexities of their intertwined lives. Within the walls of their home, they would face the challenges that lay ahead, drawing strength from their unbreakable bond and the sanctuary they had created together.

#spooky month #spooky month au #spooky month jack #spooky month john #spooky month fantasy au #fantasy au #smokeydonuts

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glaivenoct · 10 months

Note

( snippet meme ) 💛 reunion kiss / relief for NyxNoct ?

( no rush or pressure though <3 )

Homecoming

Rating: Gen Words: 3,444 Summary: Nyx has spent ten years in the World of Ruin going through the motions of survival. Today is no different - or so he assumes until he returns to the bastion of Hammerhead.

Notes: Once again Brina has ignored the rules of this prompt meme and written a whole ass fic for this instead of a snippet ^^; and once again am I here to say: it's not my fault it's Nyx and Noct's. this was the perfect excuse to write a scene that's sat in my head for yeeaaarrsssss. Thank you for sending a prompt in, friend! <3

There's something different in the sky today. Nyx can't decide if it's due to his lack of sleep or the fact he hasn't eaten in the last seven or eight hours.

The eternal night sky always has this murky green hue to it, clogged and cloudy like a musky swamp. Some days the black flecks of miasma trickle down worse than others as though it might be the only semblance of rainfall the people of Eos will ever see again. What Nyx wouldn't give to experience rain again. Fresh, clean rain washing over his skin, cooling him off, wetting his hair and soaking his clothes. Grinning up at the sky and spreading his arms out before twirling around in it like a fascinated child.

There's a memory in the back of mind he forces himself not to reminisce too hard on. An empty, muddy training yard. A deluge of rain that prompts him to coerce a hesitant prince to follow him into it. To dance clumsily with him in it, hand in hand, slipping and sliding in the mud until they trip over each other's feet and fall together.

Even clogged with rain clouds, the sky was so much more pleasant to look at back then. It was even better to sit beside a muddy Prince and watch the rain fall from it together.

The sky these days is no such sight to admire. Nyx swears he's caught something out of the corner of his eye, though. Random faint flickers along his journey back to Hammerhead. As if the stars that once graced the night sky were attempting to glow through the foggy film of murk and miasma.

It's probably just him. The hunger. The exhaustion. The flare up of loneliness making him see things that aren't really there. It wouldn't be the first time. All these years and that ache and longing can still surge into his chest as if it's the moment Nyx lost Noctis to the crystal all over again. As if the scars left upon his face by that cursed ring so many years ago are somehow manifesting over his heart like a constricting rope. Coarse, jagged silver lines akin to untamed strikes of lightning suffocating it until it gives out.

(The rest on ao3) ((Reblogs would be really, really helpful and appreciated <3))

#author entries: fics #nyxnoct #noctis lucis caelum #nyx ulric #ffxv fic #im so glad I actually got a fic done during my time off ;A;#was hoping to get more done but this will have to do

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johnwickfucker · 9 months

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"what if i rewatched doctor who almost a decade after i've last watched it" is not a comforting thought to have. this is looming over me now and i'm both the giddy, untameable horse and the rider incapable of directing their mount's determined path towards the cliff edge. the sirens calling from jagged rocks in the tempest and the ill-prepared ship captain who neglected to take beeswax with him on his voyage.

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never-enough-golden-kamuy · 1 year

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Time for a break

Vasily x gn!reader studentAU fluffy fluff, but there is a bad word ~460 words

Enjoy!

Vasily zoomed out the drawing and leaned against the side of the bed with a sigh, examining the work critically. He reached for the tea next to him as if it were a glass of Scotch vodka, and he couldn't take this work anymore. At least not sober.

He paid in blood, sweat and sleepless night to get to this art school, but for now, screwing it all up was starting to appeal to him as convincingly as the third energy drink the night before deadline. The only thing that still kept him here was a passion he didn't believe in but more was trying to manipulate himself into. His artistic soul had long gone to the other side during the third consultation, when his idea was shitted from top to bottom by a Mr. Stick-up-his-ass still not understanding why his wife left him. The Russian was literally at his limit and if he hears one more time that-

An icy hand brushed his cheek, carefully avoiding the jagged edge of the scar, ran its fingertips over his temple and tuckled his untamed hair behind his ear. Vasily twitched nervously at the unexpected touch and quickly leaned into the caress, feeling the touch loosen the tense muscles of his neck.

“Control + s, Vasily. Control + s."

His eyes shoot open as he rushed to the tablet to quickly save his work. When was the last time he did that? How long has he been working? How much progress was he risking just a moment ago? Resigned, he returned to his seat and turned to the figure wrapped in a blanket, watching him at work. For long minutes he wandered over the familiar face, looking for meaning and motivation to get back to work, but he couldn't find anything. They couldn't do it for him either. If it was possible, they would have done it long ago. All they could do at the moment was support him, and so far they were doing great.

The artist turned off the tablet, once again making sure the work was saved, and tore the glove from his hand. He struggled to his feet from the floor and climbed onto the bed, crawling under the blanket, which was lifted in the form of an invitation. He was immediately enveloped by the overwhelming warmth and smell of [Y/N]. Vasily tuckled his head under their chin and wrapped his arms tightly around their waist. He closed his eyes, wondering if anything else was missing for his happiness and after a while he blindly located their arm. He ran his fingers along the arm, over the elbow and forearm, until he found their hand. He squeezed it lightly and placed it in his own hair.

More pets please.

#i passed all my classes #now is time to dump all my emotions on fictional characters #fluffy fluff #scribbles!#vasily #vasily golden kamuy #vasily pavlichenko #golden kamuy vasily #vasily pavlichenko x reader #golden kamuy #golden kamuy x reader #never enough my stories #never enough golden kamuy

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koolkat9 · 1 year

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The Deepest Mysteries

Rating: T

Pairing: NedCan

Word Count: 581

Matthew was a mystery to many. He was quiet, kept to himself, keeping only a small group of friends and family close to him. Even those friends and family didn’t know everything, for there were a few things Matthew didn’t let anyone see.

Except with Jan.

It was a chilly autumn morning when Matthew and Jan set out in a canoe for a small day trip on the lake near Matthew’s cottage.

“Any particular destination?” Jan asked as they both started to paddle.

Matthew shrugged. “We’ll know when we get there.”

Jan shook his head with an affectionate smile. Spoken like a true adventurer.

They paddled for an hour or so before they reached a lovely cliffside. Jagged pikes poked out of the side every which way. Copper and soot blended together along the cuts of rock. And when the sun hit it just right, the whole cliff twinkled.

Matthew stopped, and Jan followed suit. Matthew turned towards the middle of the canoe and grabbed the canvas and paint set he had packed. The Dutchman quirked a brow, not having realized the paints until now.

“You paint?” Jan asked as he watched Matthew set everything up.

“Sometimes…” Matthew replied half-heartedly. He was already becoming engrossed in his task.

Jan watched intently as his lover pulled, pushed, pressed, and flicked the brush across the canvas. He had only ever seen Matthew’s eyes that sharp when he had come to Jan’s run-down house when Jan was on what he assumed was the brink of death. Something was alluring about it that sent Jan’s heart into a frenzy.

Every time Matthew looked over at the cliffs again, Jan tried to steal a glance at how the piece was coming along. From Jan’s angle, it was rather abstract, but as Matthew added more and more details it started to come together. It was still a little abstract…or perhaps surreal was a better description as the painting did resemble the cliffs. But it was more wild and free, like a dream or the essence of nature itself.

When Matthew finally realized Jan’s staring he pulled the canvas close to him.

“It’s beautiful,” Jan commented.

“Ah…w-well…it’s nothing special…Just a hobby.”

“It’s good. Very you.”

Matthew frowned, not sure how to take the comment.

“I-I mean that in a good way,” Jan quickly added, “Wild, untamed, but… so beautiful.”

Matthew’s blush darkened, eyes falling to the canvas. “W-We should have lunch,” Matthew proposed, putting his painting to the side.

For a moment, Jan worried he had made Matthew uncomfortable. He gave Matthew’s knee an affectionate squeeze before reaching into the cooler for the food they brought. “Got to keep your energy up with all that wonderful work.”

Matthew giggled slightly and accepted the sandwich Jan handed to him. “Thank you. I genuinely appreciate having at least one fan. I’m just…”

“Not used to it?”

“Exactly.”

“You should be.”

Matthew buried his face in his hands, but Jan caught sight of his grin. “God Jan, you’re going to make my heart explode.”

Jan leaned forward and kissed the back of Matthew’s hands. Matthew pulled his hands apart slightly to look at his lover.

“I love you,” Jan beamed.

“Love you too…”

Jan was lucky. He was one of the few to see Matthew for who he truly was. Timid and quiet sure, but also talented, creative, with more love in his heart than any other person Jan had met. And Jan was lucky enough to call that man his.

#hetalia #hws #hws netherlands #hws canada #nedcan #fluff #fanfiction #hetalia fanfiction

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greenhillguy · 15 days

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fingers curled around his chin, his other arm drapes over his back, finding the perfect space between sonic’s spines. the cuts, the blood are just afterthoughts in the wake of his pursuit, pulling sonic in for a kiss, slow & searing.

despite what people think, there are still wild places in nature. places where vines and kudzu and clover grow rampant, eager to choke out whatever is in its wake, so like the bloodthirsty mint in vanilla's orderly garden. places where it's easy to believe no one has ever tread, places that feel unapologetically authentic, intense, sincere, especially when traversed at night, in the dark.

it's one of these wild places that he takes shadow, a hard trek for those not used to walking, running, fighting for their lives ( for them, it's a walk in the proverbial park ). it takes a few uphill hikes and loop-de-loops and sprinting through hidden waterfall passages that turn into cave systems, but finally they arrive.

the cave tunnels open up to a cliff's edge, one that, at the right angle, blocks out the land beneath them. what's left is a spread of night sky so wide it looks painted there, stars exploding over the velvet black horizon, the moon of crescent gash of light in the middle of it all. sonic watches shadow take it in for a moment, studying the silver light splashed across his face. up this high, the wind whips at their quills, the rustling sound of them like whispers in the dark, just out of earshot.

something about this place makes sonic feel real. so many people make nature out to be an overwhelming force, one that defines their insignificance. but how can you feel small and unworthy when you're allowed to see the stars scattered across the sky as if you were in orbit? how can you feel anything but grateful when you live in a world that provides wonders like this for those who will seek them?

sonic's just turned his face back to the moon when he hears shadow move, feels fingers on his chin angling his face back. in a heartbeat he knows shadow understands. this place is as wild as they are. there is something untameable in the cliff's jagged edges, the daggered rocks, the points of their own quills. shadow's arm curls around sonic's back, but one of sonic's hands finds purchase on shadow's shoulder, the other curling around shadow's throat, the mint choking out the rest of the garden.

they kiss like an earthquake, an avalanche, a tsunami, a starfall, like nothing could get in their way, get between them, if it tried.

when they break away, sonic's eyes are electric on shadow's, green like copper flames. in a millisecond he's out of shadow's grip, disappearing and reappearing at the edge of the cliff, his back facing the night sky, on his tip-toes as he looks to shadow. the grin on his face is almost feral, fangs flashing.

"if you liked that," sonic teases, wind pushing his quills to one side, "you're gonna love the next bit." and without waiting for a response, he falls backward off the cliff face, vanishing below the edge with the tell-tale sound of a spindash marking his descent. i dare you to follow me -- i know you will.

#rotcalypse #( ASK. )#it's shrimply about the adrenaline chasing #if u catch him u can kiss him some more shadow !!#be wild be feral be free

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gokitetour · 4 months

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Argentina's top 8 breathtaking natural and animal attractions

Argentina, located at the southernmost tip of South America, unfolds a hypnotic tapestry of natural wonders and diverse ecosystems, inviting adventurers to immerse themselves in a realm of breathtaking landscapes and captivating wildlife. Argentina has an unrivaled array of natural and animal attractions that redefine the concept of awe-inspiring beauty, from the soaring peaks of the Andes to the vast expanse of the Pampas.

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After exploring Argentina's breathtaking natural and animal attractions, it is clear that this South American gem is a mosaic of wonders where nature's grandeur meets rich biodiversity. Argentina is a captivating destination for nature enthusiasts, from the iconic Iguazu Falls to the glacial wonders of Patagonia and the diverse wildlife habitats of the Valdes Peninsula.

The country's allure extends beyond expectations as visitors marvel at the surreal landscapes of Talampaya National Park, the towering heights of Aconcagua, and the tranquillity of the Lake District. The salt flats of Salinas Grandes and the penguin rookery at Peninsula de Magdalena offer one-of-a-kind and unforgettable experiences that highlight Argentina's diversity. For those considering embarking on this extraordinary journey, it's worth investigating the ease of obtaining an Argentina visa from India, which ensures a smooth entry into the country to witness these natural wonders firsthand. Argentina's position as a top-tier destination is cemented by the harmonious blend of picturesque landscapes and thriving wildlife, which invites visitors to embrace the beauty that unfolds across its varied terrain. Argentina is a testament to the breathtaking splendour that nature generously bestows on this enchanting land in every corner of the country, from the northwestern deserts to the southernmost glaciers.

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buttonpusherdiy · 5 months

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THEIR DOGS WERE ASTRONAUTS - UK DEBUT!!

https://www.facebook.com/theirdogswereastronauts

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hk04wDjHj4s

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Embarking on an aural adventure to explore the possibilities that extended-range instruments have to offer, Their Dogs Were Astronauts followed their debut full-length with 2015's 'Earthkeeper' and–in a remarkable show of determination- 'Mystery: Diary' just one year later. Bedding the Roth brothers an enviable reputation, Their Dogs Were Astronauts have shown that they can meet the ever-increasing demand for new music in a fast-paced, modern music industry...without sacrificing quality and depth.

Citing influences from a broad spectrum of styles and genres from classical (Peer Gynt, John Williams) and jazz/fusion (Cory Henry, Tribal Tech) to prominent modern acts such as 'Animals As Leaders', 'TesseracT' and 'Periphery', Their Dogs Were Astronauts have proven to be an unstoppable force of creativity when it comes to refining the ever-changing shape of genre-hopping sound. Djent Mag has commented on the band's "masterly crafted and beautiful" sound, while Medium.com celebrates the "experimental, progressive, and fresh takes on what can sometimes be a stale and repetitive sound".

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jaggedcliffs · 11 months

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My heart breaks a little for Jin Ling as he desperately tries to find a reason why Wei Wuxian isn’t really Wei Wuxian...as much as I’m proud of him a well

He’s grown up with so much hatred for Wei Wuxian, believes that Wei Wuxian is most monstrous of unforgivable monsters. He can’t just accept that someone he’s grown to like, someone who’s protected him several times over, someone who actually apologized for hurting him, someone who just a few hours ago taught him how to defend himself against bullies, is that same Wei Wuxian.

He can’t reconcile the “Mo Xuanyu” he’s gotten to know with the evils of Wei Wuxian he thought he knew as the truth.

So even when Jin Guangyao tricks Wei Wuxian into revealing his identity to the room (which everyone except Jin Ling and some extras knew anyway), Jin Ling is grasping for any straw to the contrary while he perfunctorily points his sword at Wei Wuxian. He and Nie Huaisang are the only ones who question Jin Guangyao’s claim, and while Nie Huaisang has several reasons and agendas for trying to cover up Wei Wuxian’s identity, Jin Ling’s defense is utterly without guile.

And even after Jin Guangyao “soothes” Jin Ling with how much he got “duped” by Wei Wuxian (how much of that is manipulation to better set Jin Ling against Wei Wuxian and how much, if any, is real sympathy...well, it’s hard to tell with Jin Guangyao), Jin Ling still isn’t fully turned against Wei Wuxian

Like, yes, he definitely stabs Wei Wuxian. But afterward...he can’t pursue him. His hand shakes on Suihua, his father’s sword -- the father he believes Wei Wuxian murdered -- before he drops it.

He’s wanted vengeance all his life, been told he wants it all his life, and when he finally gets a smidgeon of it...

It just hurts him.

What he’s been told all his life and what he’s learned for himself in the past few weeks are colliding, and what seemed so clearly black and white...is no longer quite so clear.

But whatever thinking he does between now and being kidnapped to the Burial Mounds, the next time he sees Wei Wuxian, it’s his experience of the truth -- of the way Wei Wuxian cares about him, genuinely -- that wins out in the end

#jin ling #wei wuxian #jin guangyao #nie huaisang #jiang cheng #the untamed #jagged watches the untamed #meta #and because things are rough for poor jl #he’ll have to do it again in almost the complete opposite direction with jgy in only a few episodes #though without nearly as much hatred #just more pain

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capcars · 7 months

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askthechronoverse · 1 year

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🎥 puppycorn

The blue dog barreled into the living room, the last leaves of a distant fall stuck to his fur and bringing with him the smell of the outside springtime. He quickly found himself sitting on the couch next to a preoccupied RJ, who held a controller in his sweaty hands. The pup looked up at the game of choice: the world shown through the TV screen was rocky and jagged, a samurai like character holding a long blade bouncing around and slashing through enemies. The music was funky, but somehow almost prehistoric feeling.

"Hey, kid. How was the run?" The human reached out to pluck a leaf from behind Puppycorn's ear.

"I know training had you exhausted, but ya should've come with me. It's a nice day out!" The pup's ball tail wagged as RJ paused his game and stretched his back. "Maybe we could play a video game?"

"Nah. I probably should head out and get some exercise. Ya wanna go for a walk?" RJ got up and grabbed his steel toed boots. As he slipped them on, Puppycorn trotted by his friend's side. He bounced around his friend happily, glad to be spending time with him that wasn't marred by the events of the past months. RJ opened the door and the two started their walk.

The walk took them through the wild and untamed brush of the Action Forest until the two of them reached a large, crystal clear lake. "I wish I brought a fishing rod. I think it's a good day for it and the water looks so calm." He stared down at the placid water and was able to see his reflection staring back at him. That reflection was quickly dispelled by Puppycorn splashing the water and causing ripples to break up the visage. This caused him to laugh. "Are you trying to fish with your paw? I'd be impressed if you caught something."

"No way! That stuff is so boring. I've seen y z'sou do it. You just sit here and wait and wait and wait and wait."

"Sometimes you got to take the time out to relax. You can't always be running around and I know that's weird coming from me." RJ sat by the water line and took in the soft air.

"Relax? Hawk and Richard said we have no time to do that anymore. The world is too scary for us to do that." The pup put his head down, finding a place next to RJ.

"Yeah. Relax. Hawk wants to do what's best for the kingdom. I think Richard has his own set of problems that he's dealing with. But there's always time to relax. If you aren't calm, disastrous things happen. I should know. I worked with anger way too long." RJ grabbed a flat rock and threw it into the lake, the stone skidding several times over the water until sinking. Puppycorn grabbed a few rocks and started skipping stones as well.

"They seem so worried about the Doom Lords winning. How can you be calm when everyone else around you isn't?" Puppycorn watched RJ's movement and copied them, soon in sync with the human.

"It's hard. I'm not going to lie to you about that. It's not easy to remain calm in a crisis. We all cope with things in different ways. Hawk prepares for the worst, Richard disappears for days on end, I choose to make jokes and bring morale up. I learned that from your sister." RJ spoke calmly, using this questioning to reflect on the situation himself. "You're still a kid. You'll find your way to cope with scary things soon enough." The pup nodded, taking in everything his idol was saying. "I know things are scary right now. Try to have hope that we can make things better."

#paid off curiosities •||• answered ask #the newspaper isn't antiquated •||• written works #asked by: lilacs stash #character •||• the wildcard #character •||• the prince

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dr3amofagame · 3 years

Note

hey pspsps i found this thing n twitter and i cant get it out of my head,, so dreams escape right? and sapnap said that he'd be the one who'd take dreams last life rgiht? so imagine if he gets ant, bad and george and tells them "its the final manhunt" (:

im ngl the name of this on my document was “the final manhunt *offkey kazoo*”

with that, have some good ol’ post-prison c!dream angst! probably not exactly what you asked for, but i hope you like it anyway :D

tw: implied torture, abuse, dark portrayals of c!sam and c!quackity, suicide/suicide implications, panic attacks, emotional distress, emotional instability, death threats, violence, flashbacks, pandora’s vault/prison arc

When Dream escapes the prison, he is a frothing thing of spite and rage, one part human and ninety-nine parts determination simmered and condensed over high heat; there is anger and then there’s this, the fire that leaps to his eyes and the shaking shreds of a battered heart he holds close to his chest and refuses to let anyone close enough to see. He moves and the server moves with him, tugged along by his iron will and sweat-slick desperation, joining in the brilliant blue whirl of a diamond axe swung recklessly and slammed into the dirt, an aimless fury following each formless drive of the blade into grass and gravel. The air sings danger and the air sings wrong and every step closer brings a ringing scream of away away go away that dances like static electricity against their skin.

Puffy follows, cutlass strapped to her hip and hair tucked messily beneath the rim of her cornet as the group advances - someone had alerted over comms about seeing the escaped prisoner in this direction, and they’d all jumped forward in the hopes that the weeks-long manhunt could finally be ended. Sapnap leads the way, headband whipping behind him as he strides forward, jaw clenched in fierce determination; George brings up the rear, bow in hand, a full quiver of arrows strapped to his back. Puffy’s running alongside Sam, who has been strangely tight-lipped the entire time Dream has been gone, firm in his insistence that the prisoner be detained but saying little else - it’s something that she would pry at, usually, but her head is filled with half-formed regrets and fears and a bubbling undercurrent of anger she’s afraid will come loose if she opens her mouth, so she stays silent as they run ever forward.

Sapnap yells, and her head snaps up - there, in the tall grass of a plains biome lies a flash of orange that must be Dream. The hunters around her speed up and she strains to follow; the other three are clearly experienced, easily falling into step with each other as she scrambles to keep up. Dream’s head snaps over towards them and he begins to sprint, cutting a line through the yellow field as they race to follow. She’s not seen him since the prison break, has only heard the whispers- an orange clothed monster, all bones and skin and uncaged fury, a diamond axe heaved in his arms slamming against anything that comes too close. It’s hard to rationalize this untamed, unrefined dash to the unwavering calm that she had always associated with his style of fighting, his movements much more like the life-or-death escape of a hunted rabbit than any hunter’s dog. It’s hard to rationalize this Dream with the one she knows- but well, she’s gotten used to that.

It took her far too long to admit, but she’s come to realize that she doesn’t quite know Dream at all.

He leads them forward to the shorter grass and harsher dips and planes of a savannah, the sun beating down in slanting heat against the backs of their necks. The ground they’re standing on begins to shatter into steep cliffs and jagged mountains, rough edges of stone climbing into the sky all around them. Sapnap curses, shading his eyes against the sun.

“He’s going up there,” he says, and George sends arrows flying towards the orange dot blurring across the steep face of a nearby mountain. Sam grumbles as Puffy strains to catch sight of him, watching his scrambling movements up the cliff face to the top.

“Then we follow,” he says, pulling a stack of ender pearls from his inventory. “Each person take a few. We’re too close to lose him now.”

The climb is anything but pleasant, the sun right overhead and making sweat gather at her hairline and drip down her face. Even as a sheep hybrid, she struggles to keep pace with the other hunters as they race over thin paths of granite and clamber up near-vertical faces of stone with little problem, clearly practiced as they follow Dream without breaking their sprint. The rock gives way to dirt and tufts of short-shorn grass and Sapnap’s eyes flash.

“Be careful,” he says, looking straight at her. “He’s cornered - that’s when he does risky shit without thinking about the consequences. He knows you’re the least experienced here and there’s a good chance that he’s going to charge you. If that happens, hold your shield and just block. We’ll handle him from there.”

She swallows back the spark of indignation that rises at his words, a bitter scream that they only see her as a liability dying out as she reminds herself that these three had hunted Dream professionally before, had struggled even with two more at their sides. The caution is far from unwarranted.

“I understand.”

Sapnap nods tersely and looks to the other two with a hand movement that she doesn’t understand. The other two immediately start moving, Sam moving to the front, George nocking an arrow as he takes his place at the rear - they’re still shielding her, she realizes with a small spike of annoyance again, shaking her head and drawing her own cutlass as Sapnap leads the way for them to swing up onto the top of the mountain.

It takes her a moment to adjust; the wind, unhindered by the cliffs that had been shielding them seconds before, whips at her face and draws tears to her eyes, makes her hair fly wildly into her face. Through narrowed eyes, she watches as the figure on the other side of the mountaintop scrambles backwards, diamond axe braced in front of him as he backs to the opposite edge.

“Dream,” Sapnap calls, voice deadly calm. “You’re cornered. Stand down.”

Dream shakes his head, lips curling in a wordless snarl. The sound is desperate, almost inhuman, making Puffy’s hair stand on end. As her vision clears, she stops dead in her tracks despite herself - Dream looks awful. She’d expected him to look disheveled after his escape, hadn’t expected much comfort in his stay in the Vault, but the way he looks, now, hollow eyes and gaunt cheeks and skinny, shaking limbs that only barely seem to be able to hold up his weight, bandages covering every visible inch of skin, wrapped messily around his right arm as if done by one hand - she reaches forward unconsciously and Dream flinches back.

“Don’t-” his voice rasps, cracks, falls in on itself as he wets his lips to try and speak again. “Don’t come closer.”

“Prisoner,” Sam growls, stepping forward, and he turns those wild, fever-bright eyes towards the creeper hybrid, flailing backwards and knuckles white from the grip on his axe. His breathing visibly hitches, head whipping back and forth.

“Don’t come closer,” he hisses again, stepping back, and Puffy stills.

“Sam-” she grabs his sleeve. “Sam- don’t. He’s at the edge.”

Dream’s gaze swings to her, and her heart stutters at the uncaged, obvious fear raging in his eyes. He’s backed to the very back edge of the mountain they’re standing on, left foot halfway off, sending dirt skidding over and off of the cliff down down down to the ground hundreds of feet below. The three hunters stop, muscles tensed, and Dream bares his teeth at them but doesn’t back away further.

His shoulders sag as they stand, stagnant, each huddled on their own side of the mountaintop. His gaze is venomous, green eyes burning even in the glaring light of the sun, flicking warily between their faces as he holds the axe between them.

“So you came,” his voice is tight, a slight tremble pulling at the end despite his seeming bravado. “Here to finish the job, huh?”

Sapnap pulls back his shoulders. “I made a promise, Dream.”

Dream laughs, bitter. His left hand releases on the axe handle to come to his chest, grabbing at his right, looking almost like he’s trying to hold himself. His laughter tapers off into something weak and wrecked, and the sound makes Puffy’s heart clench uncomfortably in her chest.

“Figures you’d keep that one,” his head tips up, looking Sapnap in the eye. “What- did your fiance give up? The revive book not worth the effort anymore?”

Sapnap hisses. “Don’t bring Karl into this-”

“Karl?” Dream’s eyes flash, grip tightening on his upper arm. “No- what? Why-”

“Dream.” Sam’s voice is low, something dark buzzing behind his tone, “Don’t-”

Puffy interrupts him with a hand to his shoulder, stepping forward and freezing mid-step when Dream’s head whips to her, eyes widening and foot scraping against the edge of the cliff again.

“Sapnap, Sam, let him talk,” she levels her gaze at Dream, trying to pick out the emotions warring behind those brilliant green eyes. “Not Karl- you’re talking about Quackity then, right?”

Sam hisses, “Puffy, I don’t think this is a good idea-”

Dream laughs.

The sound is grating, awful, making her hands come to her ears. It rips through skin, wraps around bone, seeps into marrow - he’s laughing, axe disappearing into his inventory so he can clutch his face with both hands, the loose sleeves of his prison uniform falling to his elbows to reveal the bandages wrapping all the way up his forearms and disappearing further under the fabric. In front of her, Sapnap falters, grip on his sword loosening; George steps back, eyebrows wrinkled, bow lowering. Dream laughs like the world is ending, and some cold, hardened thing in her chest shatters at the sound.

“You know,” his hands claw at his hair, wrapping around the strands and pulling, “You know you know you know- you have to know. How-” He shakes his head, tugging at his hair harshly and making Puffy wince at the sight, “Don’t- don’t play stupid here.”

“Know what?” George reaches forward, hands empty, palms up like he’s approaching an injured dog. From the way Dream snaps at the sound, hackles raised and teeth bared, he might as well be one. “Dream, what are you talking about?”

Sapnap looks stricken, still, face clouded in a way that Puffy can’t decipher. “Q- don’t play your mind games here, Dream,” despite his words, he sounds uncertain. Puffy hasn’t seen Quackity around for a while, had thought that he was staying at Sapnap and Karl’s new place. From the way Sapnap’s eyes have darkened, it looks like she assumed wrong. “Quackity hasn’t even been around, what does he have to do with any of this?”

Dream shakes his head again, seemingly stuck in his own head, barely even responding to their words. “You know- you know you know you know- Sam knows- you-” His breath hitches, chest heaving, and Puffy blinks. He’s having a panic attack, a clinical, much more calm part of her says as Dream seems to collapse in on himself. “You know. You have to know he wouldn’t- nobody came if you didn’t know then why didn’t you come if you didn’t know then why did Sam let him in you know you know you know-”

“Sam?” George turns to Sam, hands curling into fists and then uncurling again and again, “Do you know what he’s talking about?”

Sam’s expression is unreadable, ignoring George as he looks back at Dream. “Prisoner,” and has he called him by his name, yet? “Come with us calmly and your punishment will be lightened. There’s nowhere to run. Give up.”

Dream keens, a high-pitched whine exiting his lungs, “I won’t- I won’t tell,” his voice cracks, tears clearly running down his cheeks, “I won’t tell you Quackity I won’t-”

“Sam,” Puffy turns to the hybrid. “I think you should go.”

“Puffy-”

“He’s having a panic attack, Sam. He’s hardly going to do anything.” She levels a glare at him, sheathing her cutlass at her side. “I’m perfectly capable of defending myself, and I’ve promised to help anyone having a mental health crisis on the server.” Something dark and traitorous whispers how she’d given up on Dream before, and she pushes it down.

“He’s a danger to everyone on the server.”

“Sam- he’s not fucking breathing right now on the edge of a cliff. He’s not a danger to anyone but himself.”

“She’s right, Sam,” Puffy’s head snaps to George. He’s looking at her, expression hidden behind his glasses, lips pressed together in a small frown. “Puffy, we’ll be waiting. You or Sapnap call if you need back-up.”

She nods tersely, watches as Sam gives in and follows George down the mountain, the hybrid’s red eyes still staring at Dream as he leaves. Sapnap seems distracted, hardly acknowledging their exchange with his eyes fixed on Dream’s crumpled form, emotions clearly warring over his face, and Puffy brushes past him to get to her patient- Dream.

“Dream,” she speaks, not moving forward when his shoulders seize. “Dream, I won’t move closer unless you want me to,” she enunciates the words clearly, watching his face for any flash of recognition or understanding. He shakes his head minutely at her words, arms trembling, but he doesn’t move closer to the edge. “Can you hear me?”

He nods jerkily, and she smooths the palms of her hands on her pants, trying to calm the race of her heart in her chest.

“Good, very good,” years of training, habit, flood her head, pushing away the buzzing unease and fear and tangled knot of dark feelings that linger every time she sees Dream’s face, “I need you to breathe for me, okay? We’re going to inhale for four- there you go,” she counts, watching the shuddering movement of his chest as he struggles to replicate her movements, “Very good, hold for four, there you go- you’ve got this-”

Slowly, painfully, the rattle of his lungs in his chest becomes something quieter, more manageable, no longer rising and falling in desperate arrhythmic wheezes that make her chest hurt in sympathy. She’s still kneeling there, hands palms-up when he looks up at her, eyes wide, a degree of lucidity having returned to them, and for a moment a flash of fear stabs through her heart.

She swallows it down, pulling forward every ounce of professionalism she can muster. “Dream,” she keeps her voice low and soft, biting her lip at the way he freezes, again, at the call of his name. “Dream, can you step away from the edge?”

His hands clutch at the line of grass and dirt that make up the sod overhang, knuckles white. His eyes keep staring in hers, wide and wet and green, and she shushes him softly under her breath.

“It’s ok, take your time,” she breathes, watching as his hand inches forward bit by bit, gaze still fixed on her face, “It’s okay, Duckling.”

She blinks, and there’s a whirl of orange flying towards her chest; Sapnap shouts behind her, and panic blooms in her head too quickly for her to pick out anything but a desperate little oh god I’m going to die-

The blow never comes.

Instead, she looks down, heart in her throat, at a sobbing, shaking lump pressed against her chest, head buried in the crook over her neck as dirty, tangled hair falls in waves over her shoulder. She freezes, watching as his shoulders shake, hands tangled in her shirt sleeve, barely able to hear the words he’s saying over his wails and her heart thudding in her ears.

“Please don’t bring me back,” he pleads, voice cracking, “Please- please I don’t wanna go back please tell Sapnap to make it quick please I can’t go through another Quackity visit please Puffy don’t let them send me back-”

“Dream-”

“I’ll- I won’t fight, I pr’mise, Sapnap can keep his promise it’s okay I won’t fight anymore I’m-” he keens, high-pitched and mangled, into her shoulder, “I’m so tired Puffy.”

“Duckling,”

“Don’ make me go back, please.”

Puffy pulls him back, presses her hand on his cheek, murmuring softly. And- maybe she shouldn’t be doing this, maybe Dream’s a danger just like Sam said, maybe she’ll come to regret helping him the same way she had before - but right now he’s in pain and he’s crying and he’s closer than he’s been in so, so long and all she can see is her duckling, hurting, her duckling, home.

“Dream,” she brushes her thumb against his cheek, smooths a lock of hair behind his ear. “What happened in there?”

And he begins to speak.

#tw torture #tw abuse #c!quackity critical #c!sam critical #not really for either but they are portrayed dark #tw suicide #tw suicidal thoughts #tw panic attack #tw emotional distress #tw emotional instability #tw death threats #tw violence #tw flashbacks #long post #my writing :D #my asks !!

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spxllcxstxr · 3 years

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Wouldn’t It Be Nice • R.L

(Gif not mine)

Request: maybe a blurb where the reader is dating Remus and one day, they randomly decide to miss classes and go on a date instead. maybe a walk, so it’s super simple but they talk about their life - their future and that makes it romantic. basically a fluff. lkshda I don’t know I just want him to hold my hand and kiss my forehead. Love your writing! — anon and hii, you asked for more remus requests and as a remus simp i just had to comply. i'd love to see more one shots that show both sides of remus: the softy, cuddly boy and the sassy, snarky comments king. so maybe have a moment where he's being cute with the reader and the immediate other they're sassing each other off and that's just how their relationship works :) — @moonysimpp

Summary: You skip a class and plan a wedding

Warnings: brief weed mention, skipping class, a little suggestiveness?, talks about marriage, no mention of Voldy/the war

Word Count: 1.4k

A.N: At first, I wasn’t going to combine these two requests...but I made Remus both snarky and soft so I thought why not? I hope that’s ok with the two of you, I feel like it just worked out well this way. As always, let me know what you think and love you all ❤️

Title: The Beach Boys - Wouldn’t it be Nice (I just got this vibe immediately after reading the request)

****

“Have I gone completely mental, or is the Remus John Lupin actually asking me to skive off History of Magic?”

Remus stands across from you, leaning his shoulder against a stone pillar, red and gold tie prim and proper, hands buried deep in the pockets of his slacks. His eyes lazily roll at your theatrical gasp.

“And in our N.E.W.T. year!” You continue, dramatically clutching your chest. “What a naughty boy you are, Lupin. Can’t believe Minnie ever made you a Prefect!”

He raises an eyebrow at you, the right one, with the white jagged scar cutting it in half like a bolt of lightning.

“Are you done yet, love?” He casually asks, amused by your antics.

“Am I done?” You repeat, shocked. “My bad influence of a boyfriend is trying to get me to play truant!”

He snorts at your claim knowing full well you and Sirius skipped Herbology yesterday to get high behind Hagrid’s hut. No one was a bad influence on you except yourself, and everybody knew it.

“C’mon, Lily’ll take notes for us.” Remus takes a hand out of his pocket and rubs the back of his neck. The very simple and casual action has your heart fluttering.

“Oh, yeah.” The red head beside you scoffs. “‘Lily’ll take notes for us.’” She mocks in a lower voice to imitate Remus’. “Y’know, as Head Girl, I should be taking points away from you, Remus.”

“That’s rich comin’ from you, Lily.” Remus chuckles, reluctantly dragging his body away from the wall and closer to the two of you. He brings his index finger to the bottom of his chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “Who was it again that let you off when you and James got caught in the Prefect’s bathroom—“

Your friend’s face gets drenched in deep red embarrassment. Her eyes grow as wide as dinner plates. “We agreed to never speak of that, Remus.” Lily’s voice is deadly serious as she interrupts his thought.

Everybody in the entire castle and their pets knew all about how Remus walked in on something happening between James and Lily in the Prefect’s bathroom in December, but nobody except the three of them knew the exact story. It was considered major drama in the castle and even after months, people are still whispering about it.

He smirks at her bright and flustered face before turning his triumphant gaze onto you.

“So, you joinin’ me, love?” Remus asks, his hand outstretched towards you.

You always had trouble saying no to Remus Lupin.

“Hm, spend time with my boyfriend or be put to sleep by Binns’ awful monotone lecture? What a hard choice.” You snark before immediately grabbing at his hand and interlacing your fingers.

“Thought so, love.” Remus cockily voices, still smirking.

Remus’ lips briefly connect to your hairline in a kiss before he starts pulling you outside.

You barely have enough time to call out a goodbye to your friend before you’re scampering to keep up with Remus and his extremely long legs.

The air is cool against your skin, when you first step out onto the grounds. It’s crisp and clear and it beats sticking around in the musty castle. Students with all different colored robes dart around you, trying to make it to their classes in time.

“So what do you have planned for us on this fine day, Rem?” You ask, sauntering down the green rolling hills, occasionally purposefully bumping into his shoulder.

“Ah, I don’t have anything planned exactly.” He admits, thumb stroking your hand as the two of you pass Hagrid’s hut. “Just wanted to be with you. And not go to class, of course.”

“Wanted to get me alone, hm?” You tease, swatting lightly at his shoulder.

You can practically hear his eyes roll around in his sockets, something he does frequently since he has to deal with both you and his four other best friends. You don’t think there’s been a day since first year when his eyes haven’t made their rounds.

“You’re positively obnoxious, y’know that?”

You’re stepping over the plants and underbrush making up the tree line of the Forbidden Forest, trying not to get your foot submerged in mud.

“Yeah, but you love me.” You tell him, trying to balance on a fallen tree branch.

“Eh...” Remus shrugs, watching you maneuver around a twisting vine.

You narrow your eyes and stick your tongue out at him as a response.

He takes you to the spot Kettleburn usually lets his Hippogriffs roam around between lessons, a large clearing with some boulders and tree stumps to sit on.

The Forbidden Forest is beautiful in the soft May sunlight.

The leaves are lush and green, alive with various creatures noisily chatting away with each other. You hear the faint trampling and pounding of hooves off in the distance. Sweet scents of spring flowers drift through the breeze, relaxing your tense muscles.

The Forbidden Forest is even more beautiful when you’re supposed to be listening to the ghostly form of Professor Binns drone on and on about the Gargoyle Strike of 1911 in a stuffy old classroom.

Your back leans up against the rough bark of the nearest tree. It digs into your back and probably dirties your robes but you find that you don’t mind at all.

Eyelids flutter shut and you inhale the cool air deeply to ease your mind. The rustle of leaves from the gentle breeze and the chirping of surrounding creatures fills you with a sense of comfort.

Slowly, you open your eyes to see Remus sitting on a large dark boulder, gazing at you intently.

“Do you think Dumbledore would let us get married here?” You ask dreamily, observing the pale yellow sunlight filtering through the leaves.

Even from this distance, you can tell Remus’ body goes rigid.

“M-married?” He sputters meekly. “Is this a proposal? Are you proposing to me right now?”

Remus jumps from his seat, robes billowing behind him as he anxiously strides towards your spot.

“Do you want it to be a proposal?” You cock your head to the side.

“No!” He shouts, eyes wide. “I mean—fuck!” Remus continues to sputter, ears glowing pink.

You laugh at his fluster. “Relax, Remus, I know what you meant.”

“Oh thank Godric.” Remus huffs out a laugh before pressing his own back to the tree next to yours. “Just give me a few years and I’ll buy you a ring, love.”

“Well now I’m just excited.” You giggle, admiring how he’s carefully turning his head to survey the clearing.

The pale jagged lines of his scars dully glimmer in the rays of sunshine that make their way through the treetops. It’s almost angelic.

“It would be nice to get married here, wouldn’t it?” You hear him murmur, more to himself, you suspect.

“Just how many wizards you reckon been married in the Forbidden Forest?” You chuckle. “Darling, I think we’re obligated to be the first.”

Remus shakes his head fondly at the notion. His head lulls back to face you, eyebrow raised.

“Oi, you don’t need to convince me. Dumbledore’s the one you ought to ask.”

“Ah, he’s a softy.” You wave away his thought. “We’ll be fine.”

Remus raises his arms like he was presenting the wild and untamed forest behind him. “I don’t know love, it is called the Forbidden Forest.”

You shrug. “Well maybe they’ll rename it.”

“Oh yeah? To what?” Remus snorts, running a hand through his sandy curls.

You smile, making a grand gesture with your arms. “The Forbidden Unless You’re Remus and (Y/n) Lupin Forest.”

“Y’know what?” Remus smirks, kicking off of the tree. “I like the name change.”

“Oh yeah?” You raise an eyebrow as he ambled closer to your position.

“I particularly enjoy the (Y/n) Lupin part.” He places his hands on either side of your head, foreheads almost touching.

You hum in response, eyes gazing into his own honey brown ones. His eyes flick down to your lips before pressing his own to the top of your forehead.

Warmth spreads from where his lips connect with your skin, a smile instinctively growing across your face.

“Remus and (Y/n) Lupin.” He muses as he pulls away.

“Now that I think about it...” Your index finger taps against your lips in thought. “(Y/n) and Remus Lupin rolls off the tongue a bit better.”

“Whatever you say, love.” He happily sighs.

•

All Character Taglist: @aspiringsloth20 @amourtentiaa @cherie-draco

Remus Lupin Taglist: @lunalovecroft

#Remus Lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin imagine #the marauders x reader

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slashersins-abandoned · 3 years

Text

anonymous asked :

Hii! I love your writing so much 🥰 I was wondering if you could write something for Brahms Mikey Jesse & Thomas (and maybe poly!ghostface if you feel like?) when their pacifist soft s/o who they never kill in front of kisses their hands after they kill to protect her? I need some fluff in my life . Thank you!!

brahms

you knew brahms was a complicated man . prone to kindness , clinging to you constantly , begging for attention . prone to tantrums , destroying everything in his path , making the walls shake with his fury . prone to love , petting your hair , your face , whispering desperate words of affection . you never wanted to admit it , unable to think too long about how brahms was also very prone to violence . you were lucky , you’d heard of what happened in the heelshire manner before moving in . about a man being slaughtered , a nanny attacked and chased around like cat and mouse with the cat having an unfair advantage . you knew there were murders reported when people broke in . you knew brahms was capable . but you wer lucky . you never experienced it first hand .

the man must have been drunk . must have thought no one lived in the house despite the fact you put effort into making it look lived in . he must have been confused . that’s what you wanted to think when you heard the kitchen door be busted in . you made a mistake of not running to hide . no , you went to see what happened . it seemed you were just as unexpected as the intruder was , because he paused before taking after you like a bat out of hell , yelling and waving a wrench in his hand . you’d screamed , and brahms had nearly fallen as he clamored through the walls to seek you out .

brahms wasted no time in coming out of the walls , taking in the scene of some grimy intruder about to bring a wrench down on your prone form . he saw red . chest heaving and blood thundering in his ears as he ripped the wrench out of the man’s hands and used it to beat against the man’s skull . the intruder tried to put up a fight , he even tried reaching out to you for help , but you were too wide eyed , watching as brahms violently ended this man’s life for breaking into his home , for hurting his significant other . there was no mercy . and when brahms was sure that the man had breathed his last , he looked to you . and you saw no remorse in his eyes for the kill .

the adrenaline coursing through him had him forgetting your distaste for gore and violence . he just needed to know you were okay . he thought you might flinch , might cry . but instead you took his outstretched hands and bought them to your face . kissing over his knuckles as tears finally fell . brahms pulled you into a tight embrace , hushing you as you spilled out your thank yous , i love yous , i was so scared . he’d dispose of the mess later . right now you needed him . and he needed you .

michael

michael has never killed in front of you . there’s never been a reason to . you’re always at home , at work , at school , somewhere he isn’t when he’s destroying and ending lives . the most you see is a bloody knife in your kitchen and filthy clothes in the hamper . you don’t like it , hating to think about those who lost their life to michael’s blood lust . you know you’re lucky to have never seen it . to only deal with the smallest of traces of the destruction he leaves .

it’s a nice evening for a walk . work was running late , and so you stayed extra . and after such a long shift , you were excited to get home and hopefully find michael sitting on the couch . maybe he’d tolerate you leaning on him as you forget the stresses of the day . you don’t notice you’re being followed . maybe it’s due to you being lost in your own little world . maybe it’s due to the fact you’ve gotten used to the feeling of being watched by micahel that it just slips your mind completely . but you do feel the head of a gun shove into your back as a hand wraps around your mouth .

there’s a demand that you give up your money or else . the gun digging in your back painfully as gloved hands squeeze your jaw hard . another demand , a near desperate shout for your any and everything in your bag . and then you feel the man press against you , a weak strained noise leaving him , something thick and warm dripping down the back of your neck and over your shoulders . the weight of the man get’s heavy , and then he falls to the side , gargling on his own blood , twitching and wide eyed as he stairs at the sky .

you turn so fast you almost fall , taking a few steps back only to meet michael’s gaze . a kitchen knife in his hand , wet and dripping crimson . he watches you for a moment . daring you to run . and you do , but not away from him , to him . he lets you wrap your arms around him chest , sobbing as you cling to him . michael allows the contact until you even your breathing . you want to stay and cling to him , fingers in a white knuckle grip on his jumpsuit . you just saw him kill and yet you still stay . because you love him . because despite everything , you know at least some small part of him might love you to .

jesse

he has enemies . he knows this . he’s rich and powerful and a murderer . he’s bound to have a few outside forces trying to come down on him . jesse had never thought , however , that this enemy would come from within . preston was a wanna be . he’d been trying to frame himself as the new , better chromeskull . he’d been added to jesse’s shit list the moment the man found out , making the other rush off into hiding and prepare for the inevitable . and preston … preston thought he was smart . thought he could make jesse suffer . he thought he could take you away from him . preston had never been so wrong .

he’d taken you . taken you with threats to torture you . the fury inside of jesse was untamed . preston thought he was so smart , but jesse was smarter . he found the little hide away without any difficulty . always sloppy and so easy to track . preston was pathetic . and jesse would be doing the world a fucking favor by ending his life .

he’d never wanted to drag you into this world . he wanted you free from it . but here you were , tapped to a chair , tears streaming down your face . preston was smug as he watched you , not noticing the gleam of chrome behind him . not realizing that jesse was here , close . he didn’t notice until jesse squatted down and cut through his Achilles tendon in one deep slash . the larger man was quick to disarm preston , using the knife he’d been holding to stab through his hand with so much force it settled into the floor . jesse hand’t wanted you to see this side of him . but it open for you . jesse’s heart set on one thing and one thing only . dismembering and torturing this betrayer of trust and kidnapper of his love . it slow and agonizing , and you had to close your eyes and look away , unable to take the scene . but when the screaming stopped you looked back , seeing the way jesse’s broad shoulders shook and his head titled back .

you made a noise , and it drew his attention . he was on you in and instant . cutting you free and tugging at tap , even if it hurt , he wanted it off of you . before he could sign anything you were tugging him in , pushing his chrome mask off his face and kissing him , asking if he was okay , telling him how worried you were about him . he couldn’t help but bring you in close , bloodstained , gloved hands ridding up your shirt . you’d seen him at his truest , and yet you worried for him instead of yourself . he couldn’t ever let you go now .

thomas

the meat had got out . high on adrenaline and fear , the girl had somehow used her bloody wrists to wiggle out of her restraints . thomas has roared with fury when he saw her missing . grabbing his chainsaw as he quickly stomped upstairs . he needed to find and end them before they had a chance to retaliate against his family .

he was panting , looking for blood trails to lead him in the right direction when he heard you scream . his heart stopped for half a second as fear and rage flooded him . they had you . they would hurt you , take you away . he couldn’t lose you . he could’t .

the woman was clawing at you , sobbing as she dug her jagged nails into your skin , you tried to crawl away , tried to push her off , panic flooding you . soon her begs became screeches of betrayal as she realized you were one of those monsters who had killed her friends . her hands balled into fists and she raised them , bringing them down on you were she could . she didn’t get more than two hits in before tommy brought the chainsaw down on her , tearing into her back and through her spine , splattering the both of you in blood .

thomas kicked away the corpse , dropping the chainsaw as he looked down at you . fear in his eyes as he panted . he wanted to reach out , to hold you . but how could he ? you saw him kill . you would think he was a monster . and he deserved it for not tying the meat up tighter . for not just killing the meat right off the bat .

you can only look up at thomas , trying to calm your breathing .the fear and self hate in his eyes . the utter loneliness … you’re shaky on your feet , walking towards him . taking his hands in yours and kissing over his palms . he can’t help the sob that falls from his lips as he presses his forehead to your shoulder . and you can’t help that you press his hands over your heart , showing him you’re okay . it’s okay . every things okay .

billy & stu

the boys are possessive and protective . they don’t like when people try to step in on their territory . it’s not you they don’t trust . it’s them . and there is only so much they can take before they snap . so it’s no surprise that they do . they don’t have their gear . but they do have a pick pocketed pocket knife and rage , and that will just have to do the trick . they don’t have time plan , they only have time to act . because that drunken bastard hasn’t left you alone all night , and he decided it would be find to just fucking grab at you despite you telling him to stop .

they gang up on you , putting themselves between you and the drunken bitch fuck who was trying to grind on you . they don’t want you to see , one of them backing you up , while the other all but guts the bastard in a swift motion , careful not to get blood on them . it happens so fast , the screaming , the boys acting shocked , the sudden need to rush outside , to leave the bar and sneak away . stu blocks you from view , billy leading the three of you to a gas station . with and outdoor bathroom .

they shove you in , billy washing the blood off his hands and trying to clean out the sink the best he can . stu trying to keep you from looking , but it’s too late . you can put it all together . and you’re wide eyed as you look between your boys . the looks in there eyes show you that there is a secret they’ve been hiding . something dark , something they’re scared of you finding out . and as you watch their faces everything falls into place .

this isn’t how they wanted you to find out . they didn’t want you to find out . even if they both knew that with time you would . and here in a shitty public bathroom their secret became exposed . they wait for your response . teetering on the edge of fear and rejection . when you take their hands in your own . raising them to your cheeks and give them that soft smile , they feel relieved . and you’re next words , accepting and concerned for them have them both laughing and pulling you in for kisses . just stay safe , for me .

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