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#not to be graphic but if i ever take my own life and claim it is for activism- this is not out of the realm of possibility
wild-at-mind · 2 months
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I would honestly call the left's inability to accomodate people with morality-based OCD compulsions an accessibility issue at this point.
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pascalsbby · 11 months
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CARNAL : PROLOGUE
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Read Part 1
Carnal Masterlist / Masterlist
Summary: 2.9K/ f!reader, dark!joel, stalker!joel.
Warnings: 18+ mdni, SMUT, age gap (unspecified but reader is late into college), female masturbation, joel masturbating, dominate & aggressive joel, cam girl, pet names, praise kink, he briefly talks you through it, tells you what to do. talk of: trauma (not graphic or specified as SA), pain kink, fingering, sucking fingers, red flag girl stalker!joel is coming, the usual pure filth
“You thought you had it all figured out before him. Animals. Tender, primal flesh. That’s what we are at the end of the day, right? Fucking, testing one another and then eating each other alive, heart first. Maybe the heart is the sweetest part of the body- or maybe it’s just the easiest to get to.”
°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *₊.• ♡ °:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *
It started as a way to claim something back for yourself. Pieces that you’d given away over the years, ones that had been ripped from your hands, your body. This way, you had a say.
Strip, open your lips for a stranger to coo praise towards your teeming core… and then pay you. You cried a couple of times afterwards, languidly sitting in the filth of your own desire. Through the guilt of it all, it was hard to explain why it pleasured you so deeply.
No man had ever, in real life, truly pleasured you. Taking cock this way and that just for you to squeeze your walls together and moan, tired of the wrestle and hoping it would end soon. “I came.”
This, behind a camera, didn’t feel like real life, though. Most of the time you didn’t see their faces, just the curvature of desperate dick and tiring arms. That made it easier, of course, until the money became second thought to how pleasing their whispered obscenities were, dripping from their mouth down to their sobbing cocks.
You read somewhere that some kinks are a result of trauma, which makes sense. Having an angry father and a mother who didn’t leave her bed until after you left for college, was just the first lock on a heavily bolted door. You raised yourself, your brother, your mother, your father. Labeled an ‘old soul’ or whatever the fuck the grownups always told you as they patted your back and sent you along.
Scratching your way through childhood, you decided it would be easier to be invisible in high school. You painted, and finally you were noticed. You told yourself college would be different. But the only interest shown was that of your body, or that of your art.
Maybe if he praised the way my tits looked after he marked himself into them, I’d feel better about myself. Maybe if he slipped his spit-soaked fingers into the right place, I’d be cured.
The cure never came, no matter how many different sets of fingers you had inside of you. No matter how many tubes of oil you emptied onto primed canvas. Everyone always wants to know the story of how the canvas came to be covered, but do they really want that truth?
Maybe the desire to bare yourself to these men stemmed from never being wanted or loved the way you loved others. So much so that it caved in your chest the first time you fell in love. You fundamentally could not understand why he wouldn’t try as hard as you, why he didn’t love like you did. “I just don’t know if I want to stay with you because of your body, or if it’s because I love you.” Watering yourself down was preferred, it hurt less, even though there’s shame in that, too. So love hadn’t really crossed your mind since. You wondered where that little girl was, who so deeply believed in it, despite the fact she never received it back. Desire, pleasure, pain with no connection? That was easy.
So uttering your want…need, to be hit, spit on, filled, devoured- as if it was an act of release- to any sexual partner, lover, or even therapist, never seemed right. Especially when you were aware that you would collapse into yourself afterward, falling over the thin line of possible pleasure and needing safety. Of wanting to, but not being able to let yourself go completely.
The stranger across the screen? They could tear you apart in every way you wanted, without you having to beg or be asked “why?” Without touching you. Afterwards, you could shut the computer screen.
This was your secret, the squalor. A juxtaposing new kind of fight.
You thought you had it all figured out before him. Animals. Tender, primal flesh. That’s what we are at the end of the day, right? Fucking, testing one another and then eating each other alive, heart first. Maybe the heart is the sweetest part of the body- or maybe it’s just the easiest to get to.
You learned quickly that he was in charge. Submitting to him felt like second nature. You’d long ago given up the belief that someday, someone would save you.
@texanblackbird
You look like you need to be put in your place sweetheart. Havin your sweet little holes out for all these men and what worthwhile could they possibly be givin you back?
You
Well Texan Paul McCartney, right now they’re giving me a lot more than you. $100 and I’ll enter a room with you for an hour.
@texanblackbird
Let me help you little bird, you sound fuckin pathetic. $300 and you’re mine for 30 minutes. Don’t open your mouth until I say & don’t you dare smart off to me again, got it? Then I won’t clip your wings, not just yet.
You felt your cheeks swell with heat, but more so you felt the pull in your core. His profile picture was missing his face of course, but you couldn’t deny that from the small circle, the body filling it looked intriguing. You got off of the bed, sat up your laptop and checked yourself in the mirror above your desk. You brushed out your too-perfect lipstick with your finger, making it look a little more worn. Making it seem like you were a little more experienced, that you put on a good show. That you were worth the money.
You let him in and waited.
He was breathtaking, sat in a simple office chair. His shoulders spread the entire width- he engulfed it. His collarbones adorned by freckles and warm-toned skin. Like the sky had kissed him over and over, singing praises into his skin. He had gotten a little sun recently, his chest blushing and soft looking with a few scars from time. His arms splayed across his lap, jeans still on but wantonly unbuttoned. He was thick, rugged- dirty even. He needed a shower from whatever laboriously hard work he had just completed. You could already see the length of him pushing against his jeans. His hips protruding slightly, curving at his thighs. Veins running down his hallowed v line.
He wasn’t big in the sense of grotesque protruding muscles, but large in a soft way. His biceps pushing against his skin, showing that he would easily overtake you, lay you down and pin you where he wanted. Strong. His shoulders could support you. His fingers thick… one was the equivalent of your two. He could caress the spongey insides of you with absolute ease. His palm greatly bigger than your entire face. You imagined it sprawling your mound, fingers tall enough to push down on your stomach at the same time his thumb was pushing down into your body. His build was that of an older man, someone whose body has seen years, been loved, discarded, kissed, and maybe even hated. His stomach lightly spilled over his half open jeans, hair curling above the seam and crawling up towards his belly button.
You didn’t dare say anything until he instructed. You sat pretty on the edge of your bed and took him in. Oh, you would do anything he asked of you. Then, he took out his cock and spoke a voice that sent fire down your spine.
Husked, vibrating, basey. You never had an affinity for a southern drawl until his lips parted.
He spent most of your sessions hungrily ordering you around your own body. He was abhorrent in ways you’d never dreamed before. You discovered parts of yourself you didn’t know needed touching, panting and babbling for him. Right when you’d hit a new spot he would huff a laugh at your desperation, breathing out, “Good girl. Goooood. Now do it again, harder. That’s it baby.”
“Turn around ‘n spread open those pretty lips for daddy. I wanna see what you look like drippin from the back. Bend over. Mhmm, oh so good,” he paused as you did what he asked, “God damn I know that pretty pussy would love to swallow this cock. Don’t ya think so Birdie?”
“Y… yes sir.” In reality, it would absolutely destroy you. But imagining the stretch of your hole as he slipped himself into you was enough to pull out another orgasm. Your entrance tightening and losing slack each time he sheathed himself into you.
“Let it out baby girl.” You did. You let it out for him, unabashedly.
If his deep voice wasn’t enough by itself, then even looking at his hands was sometimes enough to send you over the edge. The way he grabbed himself, spitting multiple times into his palm in order to cover the width, moving his middle finger in lazy circles around his angry head. Drawing spit into strings to wet his slit, pushing the precum down the veins of his length. Breathing heavily and moaning from his chest.
He told you that all of your holes needed to be filled simultaneously until you were whimpering, begging for reprise. You agreed through overstimulated tears.
By the fourth encounter, you’d given him your phone number, not thinking too deeply into it, considering by this time he was paying you enough to cover your phone bill three times over. And rent.
You lived alone in an apartment a few minutes outside of campus, far enough to drive but not far enough away to feel like you weren’t in the mix of everything. Everyone around you was around the same age, so no one thought twice about the moans you failed to stifle. Or the dad-aged man who often sat in the lobby, head down- unbeknownst to you, of course.
You still didn’t know each others name, but you were instructed to call him ‘daddy’ and ‘sir’. When he wasn’t calling you filthy pet names he called you ‘darlin’’ or ‘sweetheart’. You Googled his phone number but couldn’t find anything worth following. The ignorance to who he could be was good enough for you, blissful even. It fed into your daydreams between seeing him every Thursday.
You’d never had a true conversation with him, never dared ask why that day over any other. Upon his request you would send him multiple pictures a day, your fingers in your mouth. He wanted to see the wetness in your underwear, begging for you stick your fingers in and play with it so he could see what he’d done to you.
By the seventh encounter you knew you wanted to be completely devoured by him. You wanted to fill the space between his teeth.
“I want to bring you pain so that you know what real pleasure feels like. Bring you so close to the edge that I’m the only one who can bring you back. I want you to fall on your knees for me, I want you bruised and beggin,” he husked, “at my mercy, not the world’s.”
°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡
One Thursday, someone knocked at your door amidst your indecency. You had a few friends, mostly those with the same major and classes. It didn’t make sense for them to be showing up, considering you’d just spent a three hour class time with them.
Your movements stuttered.
“You gonna get that?”
“Are you gonna let me?”
“And let whoever it is see how wasted you look right now? Absolutely. Tell ‘em I said hi,” he smirked.
The knocking continued until you finally made it to the door. Whoever it was, could by no means enter your apartment, especially not your bedroom.
“Sarah!” Oh god.
“Oh my gosh, are you okay? Have you been crying? Who hurt you, let me at ‘em!”
Always full of energy, this one. She was a few years younger than you, a photography major you had met when she approached you one day in the Student Union, asking if she could take your portraits because you, “had a certain aura about you.” Of course you agreed, how could you say no to someone who was so entirely happy? You exchanged numbers and had at least one new text from her daily, since. You hadn’t seen the photographs yet, she took them on an old film camera, but you kept meaning to ask if she’d developed them.
“I’m okay, promise. I just wasn’t expecting you. I would invite you in but I’m not feeling too great at the moment. I think I caught the cold that Shay had,” you pouted, hoping your were selling it well.
“Oh no worries, I texted you but you didn’t respond so I thought I’d walk the couple doors down! I just wanted to see if you wanted to grab dinner on campus, but we’ll reconvene another time.”
“I’m sorry,” you palmed your forehead, “it’s been a day. I promise I’ll answer next time. Dinner tomorrow night?”
“Sure! See you then. Text me if you need anything.”
“Always,” you said with a smile as she walked away and you closed the door.
You hadn’t been to her place just yet. She has a roommate she absolutely despises, you learned. You didn’t know she had an ill bone in her body, but she spends most of her time outside of her apartment, understandably so. It made you feel a sort of calm though, knowing she lived so close. You were going to miss her liveliness whenever you graduated and she returned to her hometown for the summer. You wished you’d met her earlier in college.
°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡
He had heard everything, you rushed too quickly out and didn’t close your bedroom door entirely. The apartment is small, he thought, if it was anything like Sarah’s. Sound travels. He wondered if Sarah was there to drop off the pictures she’d taken of you. Oh she was so excited about them, FaceTiming him months ago to show him. She insisted that she would wait to give them to you, as a graduation present. At the time, graduation was a semester away.
“Isn’t she beautiful?” You were. There was something in your eyes that fell to the pit of his stomach. Who had hurt you so badly that your eyes gave it away, pleading? You looked so small, sitting at a table with pencil in hand, drawing. You looked so familiar, he felt your stare in his core.
He would never admit that he had taken a screenshot of one specific image as Sarah continued on, “She was just sitting there, and I went up to her and asked her! And now we’re friends. I feel like we’ll be best friends soon. She’s a senior though, but she lives right down the hall. And oh! Her taste in music is so similar to yours too, you’d like her.” She smiled.
He looked at the picture shamefully. Between jobs, in the bathroom, in his work truck. He felt gross the first time he touched himself to you, but it felt so good, the way his cock would twitch at the thought of all the ways he could ruin you. Fix you.
A week later he couldn’t take it anymore. He found you quickly, you popped up in Sarah’s Instagram friends right under a few other people, smiling in your profile picture. Private, but your social media was all under the same name, so he took you for everything he could find. You were an artist, loved classic rock and always retweeted sad poetry.
The day he came across your secret Twitter felt like an answer to a prayer. He knew you had it in you. What a naughty girl. But why would you follow yourself? That wasn’t very smart of you. Did you even think about your own safety? Did you even care?
He made an account on the cam site you promoted on said post- and he was in. As far as he knew, Sarah had never mentioned him to you… never had a reason too.
You’d surprised her one weekend, showing up to have dinner with her. Not before sitting in the lobby for a few minutes, hoping to catch a glance of you. For you to pass by without a thought, the air bringing your scent to his nose. He even walked down the opposite side of Sarah’s hallway when he got to the fourth floor, trying to see if there was any indication which apartment was yours. Maybe he would knock on it, accidentally, apologize and say he was looking for his daughters apartment. He wanted more of you, anything he could get his hands on.
The money wasn’t an issue for him, he lived alone and didn’t need much. He gave it to you happily if it meant that you were his for an hour, through text, whatever. He gave you a fake number, one that led back to some app he texted you on. He’d had these obsessive tendencies before.
You returned to him, blushing while dropping the robe you had hastily grabbed. As you sat on the edge of your bed, spreading your thighs open for him, tracing wet lines towards your cunt, he knew that you were his, you would be. An hour later he was texting Sarah.
“What time is your friends capstone show next week?”
Extra: Joel in his truck
Part 3
°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *₊.• ♡ °:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *
A/N: Thank you for all the love in Part 1! I haven’t written in a while, but I’ve just graduated college and I have some downtime and a busy brain to satiate.
I just wanted to state that I’m pro-sex work & pro-therapy! This is me writing parts of myself and my own trauma into the main character…forgive me! ‘Art’ is embarrassing sometimes, huh?
I have an entire Pinterest board filled with ideas, pictures, quotes for this fic. I hope you guys are enjoying ☺️
Tag List: @paleidiot @sarap-77 @i-love-rafe
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hammyballeceter · 6 months
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Hannibal Lecter-
Little Lamb
Hannibal x reader
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- mentions of a suicide attempt & mental illness.
You had been a patient of Dr Lecter for about a month now, his first appointment being with you when you were still on the ward after a attempt to take your life. The man who you’d come to know as Dr Lecter was kind to you, his voice soothed your thoughts and you began to look forward to seeing the peculiar man each week. You tried for a little while to not let your mind wander to how attractive you found the older man, but then again it pushed other far more darker thoughts aside for awhile. And you indulged yourself into thoughts of the amber eyed gentleman.
————-
“I hope that you’ve been doing as we discussed in the last appointment”
His eyes flicked to yours and stayed there, he had an intimidating undertone to him, an intensity to his presence, which made you crave him more. Your skin prickled as if it was cold, shuffling in the seat to try and distract from the feeling of him staring at you.
“Yes, I’ve been trying to. The thoughts are as intrusive as ever. Although I’ve found a new vice that’s sort of helping. When I think about them the thoughts calm for a while. But they soon come back. And they come back with vengeance”
Your voice was quiet, as it had been all your life. Slightly above a whisper but not by much. Being softly spoken would often mean people would ignore your existence. But not Dr Lecter, he gave his full attention to you when you spoke. Although it’s his job, you’d like to think maybe, just maybe he enjoyed hearing your voice too.
“The intrusive thoughts are getting more and more graphic, it’s like my brain is willing me to become so disturbed I’m past being helped. A punishment for not being dead. I still wish it had worked.”
Your eyes never dared to meet his unwavering gaze, you knew he was looking at you, it made your skin burn in the best possible way but caused you feel even more insecure then you’d ever been. What he must think of you sat there covered in scars of your own making
———————
His eyes never left you as you sat in a rather large chair in his rather large office, the room oozed class & money. When ever you were in his presence his eyes found you and he couldn’t bring himself to rip them away. And anyways, he enjoyed watching you squirm under his gaze he could quickly tell the affect he had on you. Your appointments with him were something he looked forward to. He was drawn in by you he learned a lot about you during your appointments even making a conscious effort to ask about you outside of what the appointments were supposed to be about. Being under intensive treatment meant he got you for an hour 3 times a week to his delight. He couldn’t quite understand why a beauty like you wanted to be 6 foot under. He always thought people with such beauty also held a disgusting amount of vanity and self importance. But not you, he enjoyed your beauty, and he found himself not wanting to slice you open and eat your body piece by piece. And that scared him. He didn’t want to stay professional with you, he wanted to patch that dark little mind of yours and claim you as his.
“your thoughts are getting worse? what sort of things are these thoughts about? Don’t be afraid to tell me” He asked. Jotting down what ever notes he needed.
—————
“About hurting people, about hurting myself. Images, awful images. They’d flash into my head, just like before. But instead of them just being about me hurting myself they’re ones of me hurting others, before I’d never had that I’m scared I’ll give in” the welling of tears made room ripple and blur.
“I just want to get better. But that’s never going to happen. My only relief is thinking about someone I know I can never have. Someone who wouldn’t even look at me. They just see me as a sick patient and even then my brain punishes me for it. It hurts me but they make me feel safe, they’re the only person that listens to me”
Your tears ran, wet and warm down your face. Hannibal had never felt an ache in his heart when seeing someone cry. Usually someone’s cries meant nothing to him. Especially the ones of those he killed. But with you, he wanted to push you up against a wall and make you feel anything but sadness.
“Whom is it that you think about?” He asked with out thinking, he cursed at himself for being so abrupt when you were upset.
You dropped your head allowing your hair to fan infront of your face, you wanted to tell him, tell him about how you wanted him to make your skin blaze, how you wanted to feel his lips on every single part of your body, how you wanted him to take every waking and sleeping moment of your life and fill it with him.
“I’m afraid to say Dr Lecter I fear he may never want to see sight of me again”
Hannibal watched as you raised your head, tears streaked your face, your cheeks turned pink and your lips plump, and yet he still thought you looked beautiful. Broken yet beautiful.
He wanted to kiss you, so deeply as if he would engulf you whole and allow you to be safe.
“Why would you think that? you may be in a bad place, but you are person that holds a lot more then what you’re going through. I’ve learned a lot about you y/n your beauty is merely only the surface of you, you are intense yet so gentle. Your brain holds great torment, yet you have never laid a hand on another despite what your mind makes you think. The mere fact you acknowledge that hurt, the fact you wanted to take yourself away in fear of hurting others shows me more about you then you think. I apologise if you think this is inappropriate of me. Only a fool would never want to see sight of you again”
His face never changed, his eyes held the same undivided intense gaze. But he meant every word of what he said. Y/ns brain couldn’t comprehend a man who had everything was speaking so highly of someone who had nothing.
“Dr lec-“
“my little lamb call me Hannibal, I insist”
You body shook lightly,
“Hannibal, it’s you. It’s you that I think about. You fog my mind daily. And you make my thoughts go even if its for a little while, it’s worth it.”
Hannibal got up slowly, placing his glass on the small table beside him. You nerves through the roof as he hadn’t said anything. Had you misunderstood him? Was he simply being kind out of pity?
His hand reached for yours, large yet soft and well manicured. You accepted his hand and allowed him to pull you up.
“You fog my mind too little lamb”
He gently caressed your cheek, taking in the feeling of you finally being pressed against his body. He pressed his lips to yours, savouring how sweet you tasted, mint mixed with an undertone of the expensive wine he’d poured for you earlier. Your mind finally at ease, for the first time in a long time.
“Now, don’t ever take yourself away from me.”
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eydi-andrius · 2 years
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Don't Get Sad, Get Even
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warnings: cussing, implied infidelity/cheating word count: 743 words summary: You and your House Dressed Up for Revenge. This fic is highly inspired by Taylor Swift's new song "Vigilante Shit" from her new album Midnights. Unedited fic cuz I just want to write it out. divider from @firefly-graphics
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Aemond Targaryen has been called the younger version of his uncle Daemond Targeryen but more callous and reckless.
A foolish one-eyed fool, they said. His reputation precedes him — really. And everyone would agree that he was following his uncle’s footsteps heedfully. Aside from his bloodlust, he is also following him when it comes to marriage. The same way his uncle disregarded his bronze wife and claimed that the sheep were prettier to fuck.
He is treating me, his lady wife, the same worst way. But much more shameful, as he brought back a pregnant whore with him from Harrenhal. He never cleared the rumors that the child might possibly be his bastard.
And to add insult to the wound, he brought her to the private dinner which was supposed to be for the family of the King only.
The moment my house found out about what happened, they were seething and so was me.
Maybe —  it was now time to put the Targaryen men to their rightful place.
“Final tribute!” Your husband said as he raised his cup. He banged the table before standing up, taking everyone’s attention to him.
The tension in the air was palpable. You could almost taste it. His tribute came out as a shock as no one expected him to speak anymore, as giving tribute already ended earlier. 
However, contradicting some of the rumors, you knew your dear husband more than anyone in this room. 
Probably, even more than his mother.
The giggle Lucerys made while the pig was served in front of Aemond wasn’t missed by your sharp eye. 
You saw that the little chuckle wasn’t also missed by your prince and he gave his nephew a challenging stare which was not taken seriously by the young boy who continued to laugh.
“To the health of my nephews: Jace, Luke, and Joffrey. Each of them, handsome, wise...Strong.”
Before the blacks opened their mouths to protest, you also raised your cup and stood up. “And let’s also drain our cup, for the cooks who prepared this wonderful….pig. This is the best pig recipe I’ve ever tasted in my life. What a wonderful day it is to gather here and eat scrumptious meals, especially, this pig.” You said with confidence and a wide grin adorning your face.
You specifically said the word pig over and over to make an obvious point that he doesn’t have the right to be mad on this peaceful night. 
You are mad. You are furious.
And you will not let him get away from this. It was your honor that was tarnished. It was your house’s name on the line. Not consummating a wedding can be forgiven.
But what he did tonight will not be dismissed. He will pay for the shame and hatred. All of it.
Even without looking, you've heard Daemond’s boisterous laugh and Aegon’s snickers. The smile you gave them in return was nothing but polite.
In the corner of your eye, you can see the worried scowl adorning the Queen’s face, Princess Rhaenyra’s sigh and Otto’s exasperation while draining his own cup.
Meanwhile, your prince was still standing when you already decided to sit down. He was staring at you now with that cold eyes of his. 
As a final insult, you just tipped your goblet in his direction and drank it without stopping — without removing your eye contact with him.
Remember, you will pay.
You didn’t flinch when he threw his goblet to the ground and walked away from the hall. The lady, Alys, followed him obediently. Like a fool that she is for accepting an invitation that she shouldn’t be in, in the first place.
The Queen Alicient dismissed the servant who poured another wine on your goblet. “Do you really have to do that? With all of these people?” “My grace…… your son is just the second prince who has no land under his name. 
I am an heir.
So yes, if I have to make a point that I am no lady nor a house to be trampled upon, then I would. I will….
This…. will be the last time your son will bring forth shame to my house. 
I can end things as easily as this agreement started.
Remember that. My queen.”
You smiled and tipped your goblet before drinking its contents. This is just the start of the war Prince Aemond had started between you two. And may the strong house….wins.
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gatheringbones · 9 months
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["I don't want the nitty-gritty of S/M for me to be some dark & hidden thing, & I want lesbians to understand that anything you want is alright as long as you don't coerce or abuse anyone to get it. S/M is very cathartic & healing for me. A lot of nonspecific anxiety is gone from my life, especially anxiety around sex. One benefit I'd not looked for came in my fantasies. All my life I'd tried not to have fantasies 'cause they were almost always about rape & mutilation & death. Sometimes I’d feel like I couldn't push them out of my mind, like I'd been permanently invaded. Well those fantasies are almost all gone. Instead I have a constant supply of wonderful sensual erotic fantasies about lesbians, myself, this earth, anything I want. That just happened by itself, & I love it. I find a strengthening & confidence in myself that I really like, & the emotional S/M I'd still participated in happens less & less. I find that pattern sometimes but can recognize it sooner & get out of abusive & potentially abusive situations easier. Being bottom comes so smoothly to me it's like diving into warm water. & at first that was the only role I'd let myself explore. We are trained young & deep to be passive, receptive, accepting, & so it was easier for me to reclaim the strength in that side of the power flow. Sometimes as bottom when it's being really good I feel myself open psychically so much I could take in the whole universe & I can feel spirit enter me like a lover. Being top came harder to me. Power & cruelty have so often gone hand in hand in my life & I feared that in myself, feared my own power & taking it so openly. But as I've pushed past this barrier I've found myself claiming power with more honesty & courage than ever before in my life. The fine high feeling of pushing a womon who will trust herself to my will past barriers in herself into orgasm after orgasm is indescribable. It's important to me that I can explore both sides of eroticism, the giving & the receiving. I am & have been both a sadist & a masochist, in all the meanings of those words, & I want to know & work with all of who I am. S/M can bring one very close to the edge. Sometimes when making love the horror & memory of past experiences floods me with no warning & I need to know that the one I'm with will be very loving to me 'till the storm passes. This is why I know that good tops are the most compassionate & sensitive beings on earth."]
Juicy Lucy, from If I Ask You To Tie Me Up, Would You Still Want Me?, from Coming To Power: Writings And Graphics On Lesbian S/M, 1987
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kimsmuse · 9 months
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Hiii, I just came across your blog, and I L O V E it! Since you said you were looking for a recommendation, here's one from me. Yandere school president. They have immense power at their school because not only are they the president, but their parents own the school. Their word is quite literally the law at this school. He just so happens to be head over heels in love and obsessed with you. Give in to their obsessive and possessive love or suffer the consequences. Since he holds so much power, he can make you a school outcast in less then a week, and he can have teachers fail you or pick on you for the stupidest reasons ever, he'll make your life a living hell at school if you don't accept his twisted and fucked up love, it's best to just be a good darling, and let yourself be loved on his own terms. It's a concept I've thought about a lot, but I haven't seen much of it. Anyways, thank you for your time, and keep up the good work!!!
okay okay omg first of all your brain???? this way too good and oml now i'm sad i spent my entire school life without a class prez like this :( but let's talk about this !!! this is mildly inspired by this one guy from the kdrama called taxi driver (ep 3) !!!
gender neutral!reader. warnings for obsessive behavior, mentions of killing someone but it's nothing graphic. blackmail/coercion type thing?? and typical yandere behavior.
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okay so yandere!class president who is so focused, he's the top student of the grade and he's good at sports too?? captain of the basket ball team?? i don't know how he does it because i really couldn't but anyway even apart from that he keeps on taking part and neatly scoring in debates, and writing contests, you name it and he's doing it. it does happen sometimes that he ends up getting silver or bronze but he's there on the list somehow.
and obviously if you've ever been a teenager then you know how attractive this type of people are, because they're good at everything, because they look very unattainable and bonus for our class president is that he's super hot as well. so obviously he had a classroom filled with admirers. and he loved the attention, who doesn't? but he's never thought more of it than that, the aspect of romance is kinda alien to him, he's had his fair share of physical relationships (if they can be even called that) but none of them too good to stay.
so he keeps on with his day, his cram school, having lunch, dinner, studying, more studying.
and when he bumps into you from his way back from the library, he just stops dead in his tracks as you attempt to pick up the books you both dropped, and when you look up at him he's literally frozen. who are you? why has he never seen you around? why do you look so pretty? hey, where's that romantic instrumental playing from? why-
"hey, mister, are you okay? i didn't hit your head or anything right?"
and trust me when he's the literal embodiment of the ":0" emoji.
anyway, but that guy has never had a crush before so at first he just feels like its some kinda internal intuition? that there's something wrong with you or something.
but then he finds himself trying to find your class, sitting there on the excuse of talking to some friends and obviously he's welcomed there.
and he figures that his initial impression might be a wrong because you were such a sweetheart. not as popular as him, and you stuck to your 2-3 friends but he saw the way you would smile at people - a gentle, warm one. and he quite literally died when you greeted him that way once, surprised that you would know about his existence
it wasn’t that he forgot he was famous but having a crush really does wonders to your self esteem.
also you best believe he's digging up all your information, your past schooling if you've transferred, your parents' background, your social media and duh, where you live, where you work.
and if you work somewhere like a cafè or a convenience store, he's there for half the day, "studying" for exams and stuff, he claims it helps more than studying at home. and all the time his eyes barely register a page because he's looking at you as you're hard at work, helping customers, greeting them with that damned, charming smile and then in rare moments he looks at you as you lose that demeanor and sigh out of exhaustion. poor baby, he wished he could something for you so bad in those moments.
and then comes the part where his friends (he has a lot of friends but he believed that when you have a crush you shouldn’t tell everyone? also given his popularity... he figured it wouldn't be a greatest idea ever. so he only told like a guy or two) they adviced him to just go up to you and ask you out? what's the problem even? he's literally the golden boy of the school, why would someone reject him ever? you shouldn’t even be worried about that, dude! but with that confidence in himself, he decides on a day, nothing too significant and he looks at himself in the mirror.
"uh, actually, i do have a partner," did you hear that? the glass shattering? uh, that was his heart. that was his reaction when you told him this. but it was true, you had a partner in another country (which made sense that the yandere did not come to know of this before because he had been following you, just to make sure you were safe ofcourse, and he did not see a persosn who could classify as a romantic threat) and you loved them very much! no matter how cute and great this guy was, you were loyal to them.
and now cue the yandere's sad era. but only for like a day or two. until he realizes something. this was absurd, you were rejecting him? when so many people would literally kill for something like this? it was unbelievable. but he was deadset, this was the first time he felt this way for someone and he was determind to make you feel the same, or at least keep you with him, and he would do it with any means necessary.
he realized that your friends' parents were mere employees in his dad's company so all it took was one meeting. "stop talking to y/n." for them to start ignoring you and they did not even try to keep it lowkey and you had to resort to sitting alone at lunch, giving an easy access to the guy who used it as a time to sit beside you and tell you about his day, nevermind the fact that for the first few times you would just up and leave. and then you finally decided to just snap.
"what the fuck do you want?" you look at him, frustrated by all these things, and changes happening in your life in less than a week.
he just smirked, that mf had the audacity to smirk? "you, ofcourse,"
now he wasn’t quite violent because he'd just entered adulthood, he did not want to fuck up and spend the rest of his years in jail (not that he actually would because his parents would be hiring the world's best lawyers for him) but he did imagine it, murdering your s/o. he did not know what they looked like, but all they saw was you happy in their arms and as much he loved that little smile of yours, he wanted it to be for himself! not someone else!
so anyway, after you storm out on him after the last conversation, you get your english test results back and a big, red F is staring at you.
and normally your parents weren't grade obsessed but you would boast to them about how good you were at english and how much you loved the subject and even the teacher agreed thaf you were good at it.
when you meet with the teacher after class, he just removes his spectacles and rubs his eyes, "listen, y/n, you're one of the smartest students i've had the pleasure of teaching. so make the right choice, it's good for your future. just say yes to him. he's not bad, you know,"
he was behind this???????
you felt even more utterly helpless when you found that the yandere's parents fund almost more than half of the school so there’s nobody who would be willing to go against them and help you, no matter how much you would plead them.
"a transfer? don't even think about it, baby, nobody is going to issue that certificate unless i say so,"
chills run down your neck as he whispers this. you were truly stuck with him.
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snippychicke · 7 months
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Legend of the Selkie and the Pirate --Two--
Fandom: One Piece (LA mainly)
Rating: Teen/mature (we have non-graphic nudity stated)
Pairing: Buggy/Selkie!Reader
Warnings: None except heartbreak?
Summary: Even in a world of monsters, devil fruits, pirates, and fishmen, selkies were considered a myth. Especially in the East Blue where the waters were too warm for seals to live anyways. 
Except that myths were always seeded with truths, and stories always had a habit of coming to life. 
Tagging: @tfamidoingwithmylife; @yellowbbear ; @skullr0se; @chiyo-juice
Masterlist|Ao3
(psst, if you're a long time reader of mine and noticed that I had posted part one without dramatic use of italicized words... that was because tumblr ate my formatting. It is fixed now along with a few spelling/grammar corrections.)
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Prompt:  Something/Someone missing
The joy of a large trove of treasure disappeared as Buggy watched the seal slip beneath the railing and over the edge. Without thinking, he called out your name as he raced to the edge, just to watch you gracefully disappear beneath the choppy waves. He was somewhat aware of the rest of the crew torn from the treasure, but was frozen as he watched the water. Hoping--Praying-- that you'd break the surface. That you would reappear--either human or seal-- and he could pluck you up once more despite the earlier ocean spray on his hands had already made them painful and weak. 
He'd do it again. And again and again. 
If you would just reappear. 
"Not even a goodbye," Mohji whined eventually. "Richie is going to be so heartbroken." 
Who the fuck cared about the lion? He was heartbroken. The necklace he had in his fist--the one he was about to insist you try when he had first turned around-- cut into his hand as he clenched his fist. 
Why? What did your family or kind or whatever have that he couldn't provide you? Were any them as flashy as he was? Making you constantly smile and laugh? Did any of them take you and accept you as easily as his crew had? 
Did any of them love you like he did? 
Or was it his one flaw? His one weakness? That he couldn't swim. That the ocean hated him for fucking accidentally eating that damn fruit. 
That damn Shanks. If he ever saw him again, he would rip his throat out. 
(Don't let it be his nose. It couldn't be his nose, right? You said it was fine, and he didn't think you were lying.) 
"Cap'n?" Mohji asked, breaking Buggy from his thoughts.
The crew was looking towards him, which he usually didn't mind. Except there was pity in their eyes. As if they could tell--as if they knew--how he felt. 
"What are you freaks looking at?!" He shouted with a manic grin. "We just hit the jackpot! It's time to celebrate!" 
The cheers were less than heartfelt, but Buggy let it slide. This once. 
--
Granted, later that night, while the crew was sleeping off draining half the beer they had on board, Buggy made his way to the small room you had claimed. 
You had been with them for just a few short months, and yet you had made the tiny room your own. Hammock full of blankets and pillows stolen from who knew where. A chest brimming with clothes donated by the crew. A vanity with a cracked mirror, yet you.hadn't seemed to mind. You had placed shiny rocks and shells in the canister meant to hold makeup and brushes.  
He took the necklace he had kept in his pocket and put itt in the main drawer, next to the hairbrush (your hair mixed with a few of his since it had been a spare he had found in his own room). He knew he was being foolish, but he held on to the sliver of hope you'd be back. That you would look at his gift with delight and grin happily at him. That the sparkling gems would look as beautiful as he imagined against your skin. 
And, well, if he happened to fall into your hammock, pulling your pillow close to his chest, it was merely because he drank too much. But in the moment, he knew the truth as the sway of the ship rocked him into an uneasy sleep. 
He missed you. 
Prompt: Forgetfulness 
You had forgotten how lonely the sea was. 
As the sun set and everything became dark, you pulled yourself up to an outcropping of rocks before shifting and looking to the stars. Except the sky was clouded, obscuring everything. 
The night would have been silent if not for the sound of water splashing against the rock and your legs. It was impossible to tell where the sea and sky separated--all that you could see was inky blackness. As if you had somehow appeared into an abyss. 
You shivered, but you weren't cold. You still pulled your fur tighter as you continued to shake, chest becoming painfully tight. 
You wanted to be on the pirate ship right now. You wanted to hear the rumble of snores of the crew. The soft boot steps of those taking watch. The soft glow of the lamps and candles. 
Buggy finding you and ending the lonely night often brought alongside insomnia. It had become a little routine, making you wonder what made it so hard for him to sleep at night. 
You never asked. 
Finally the tightness erupted into a scream, hot tears stinging your eyes. 
You had forgotten what true loneliness was like.
You forgot the heartache of missing those dear to you.
Your heart wasn't sure it even knew where 'home' was. The arctic where your pod was. Where your parents, siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins, were.
Or a ship where you were surrounded by people so unlike but had wormed their way into your heart nonetheless. 
(Or maybe where a blue haired pirate grinned at you with bright eyes and a red nose. Like you were the most amazing thing he had ever seen.)
Prompt: Unexpected 
"We're going to the Grand Line!" 
The crew of freaks stared at their captain in confusion. When he had called them together, this was not what they expected his announcement to be. In fact, no one had cared to even place bets considering they all believed it to be the same. 
To go after you. 
"The… Grand Line, Captain?" Mohji was brave enough to ask, clearly as confused as everyone else despite the fact he was technically Buggy's second in command. 
Thankfully, Buggy grinned at the white curly-haired man. Though there was a hint of mania yet again to his blue eyes. "You heard me. We've pittered about the East Blue for long enough, it's time to go after the grand prize--the One Piece!"
"Don't we need a map for the Grand Line?"
"Does the One piece actually exist?
"Well, rumor has it Buggy was on Rogers ship. So if he thinks it does, then it must, right?" 
Buggy wasn't too concerned about the talk amongst the crew, that was to be expected. After all, it was a big change. 
But then…
"What about our selkie that jumped shipped?" Mohji asked, and everyone quickly grew silent, looking towards the captain expectedly. 
Buggy felt his eye twitch as he gritted teeth behind his smile. 
Waking up in your hammock had made the truth hit him like a sledgehammer. You were gone. You chose to leave, without so much as a goodbye.
 Escaping to the one place he couldn't follow. 
"Our little seal made her choice," he said, turning to his first mate with murder in his eyes. "And I don't want to hear another word about it." 
Because his heart was bruised enough as it was. 
He wasn't going to chase after someone who didn't want him. (Just like everyone else in his life he had cared for. He had opened his heart to you, only for you to devour what little had remained before jumping overboard.)
Prompt: Undone
"Well, she's rather special. I mean, can you blame him?"
"Hmph. Captain Buggy has made it a point to build a crew of people that don't fit in. We're his band of freaks. But at least we're human. Or fishperson. The bitch is as useful as a one-legged man in an ass kicking contest. I mean, she had to be taught how to wash dishes." 
"Either she sharpens up, or the Captain will realize how useless she is and send her overboard too."  
The words still echoed in your head despite it being weeks since they were spoken. The conversation you weren't meant to hear but did. The one that made you realize you didn't belong among the land-kind. 
That you weren't meant to be one of Buggy's crew. That the chore girl position you had been given was just to keep you entertained and out from under others feet.
Oh sure, many of the crew acted like they enjoyed you being there-- especially Buggy himself-- but not all of them were such great actors. The scoffs. the sneers. 
Some things were universal no matter what. 
The cry of a seagull roused you from the half-sleep. You groaned when you realized the sun had moved, meaning you were no longer in the shade of the towering cliffs but in the hot sun. 
You grabbed your fur and moved into the new shaded area. Hoping to get a little more sleep before the sunset and you could resume your attempt at finding home.
Goddamn tropics being so hot. It was way too warm to try and swim during the day, so you resorted to trying to sleep while the sun bore down. Yet always alert for any land-kind, so sleep was a relative term.
But at least there were plentiful fish in the waters. 
Yet… your time on the pirate ship had spoiled you. All that different food.
Baked.
Roasted.
Toasted.
Fried. 
And the fruit. The cool and sweet juices from biting into one busting into your mouth. Sometimes too much and escaping the corners of your lips. 
Buggy laughed as you tried hard to catch the juice with your hands. He eventually reached over and wiped some you didn't notice from your chin and made a show of licking it from his glove. "Juicy little thing, aren't you?" 
"I-it was," you agreed, trying to reign in your impulses that you didn't realize what he truly said.
How were you supposed to enjoy going back to eating merely to survive after that? (Were you ever going to get him out of your head?) 
You continued to try and sleep, ignoring the pain any dreams brought once you woke. 
Prompt: Eyes 
For being stuck in a sack, bodiless, and more or less prisoner of Arlong, everything had been going fine. Listening to Luffy's antics was always entertaining. The boy was so clueless and full of optimism that it was almost unbelievable at times. As well as rather annoying, considering how the rubber-cursed teen and his tiny crew had beaten him 
What was wrong with this kid? 
Maybe the Gum-Gum fruit had done something to his brain too. 
Okay, things were massively sucking for Buggy right now, but he held out hope. He had escaped worse situations. Yes his body was too far away for him to literally pull himself together. But after they tracked down the Straw hat, Arlong said he'd let him go. 
Granted, Arlong was the kind of pirate to lie straight to your face, but all Buggy had at this point was hope. 
And then he heard you. He knew wherever his body was it jerked, instinct to whip around to look for you before he remembered his ear was miles away at the Baratie restaurant hidden in Luffy's cap. 
What the fuck were you doing there. 
He wiggled his ear slightly in hopes things weren't so muffled. As angry and hurt as he still was, there was no denying that he was desperate to hear your voice clearly. 
He wanted to see you. Touch you. Talk to you. (Demand to know why you had left him the way you did. Hadn't any of the time you spent with them, with him, meant enough for at least a goodbye?)
"--I'm lost," you admitted slowly, sounding as cautious as when you first boarded his ship. Back when you didn't know who to trust and expected someone to do something. "I'm trying to head north, but--"
He silently groaned, rolling his eyes, the Baratie was south of the Deadman Stacks. No wonder you ended up in the East Blue. You were absolutely clueless when it came to directions, weren't you?
(He could have helped. If you had just asked. If you had just waited another minute.) 
"Where's home?" Luffy asked, full of innocent optimism that set Buggy's teeth on edge. 
You wouldn't. You wouldn't dare accept help from the brat after leaving him. Right? There was nothing that kid had that he didn't. (Except a normal nose-- no. You didn't care about his nose.)
"North?" You answered awkwardly, and Buggy wasn't sure if you were avoiding the question, or if you really didn't know. 
"Like, Shells town? Syrup Village?"
"Um… further… north?"
You… didn't know. At least, none of their names for places. And you didn't trust them enough to divulge that truth. His innocent little lamb lost at sea for how many months now? He didn't think his heart could stand another knife in it. 
"I mean, Cozia is the northernmost isle of the East Blue I know," A new voice peeped in. One of the waitstaff if he recalled right. Sangria? Sojo? Something like that. It didn't matter, not really. 
"That sounds… kinda familiar?" You answered, though your voice was tinged with obvious doubt. You were such a horrible liar. (Which only confused him more, because he had thought you at least liked him. Yet you ran away. Why?)
"Don't worry, my cherie, you rest and eat your fill. We'll find a way to get a beautiful woman such as yourself home." The waitstaff flirted, making Buggy grit his teeth as he tried to keep his snarl silent, well aware that Along's crew was probably listening. 
Hell no. No suave fucking waiter was going to try and steal you from him. (Completely ignoring the fact you obviously weren't his to be stolen.) 
Wait. 
Shit. Fuck. 
Arlong was heading for the Baratie. Where you were. 
And as happy as he was to find you, for the chance to just see you again, there was no mistaking the fear rolling in his gut even if he wasn't attached to his body. 
What if you got caught up in the inevitable fight? You could defend yourself, but against Arlong's crew? One Selkie against three fishman that were stronger than himself? 
What if Arlong decided he wanted you as a trophy? What if he took your fur from you again? Unlike Buggy, Arlong was known to hold people captive for long periods of time, doing as he pleased. (Buggy held on to the fact he wasn't that bad since he only gave the towns and villages a mandatory free show for a few nights and before he'd leave and allow them to rebuild their boring little lives.) 
And all Buggy could do was watch. A bodiless head, unable to do anything but watch. Listen. Maybe beg but he already knew any pleading would fall on deaf ears. 
Prompt: Crowds
You had impulsively followed the smell of food, sick of fish, and ended up giving a few humans--Luffy and Sanji-- heart attacks when you pulled yourself halfway onto the deck asking for food. 
And well, you had gotten what you had asked for that ruined your usual diet even more because it tasted divine. But as you ate, the two had been full of questions and one thing led to another and… 
They wanted to help you. Apparently their navigator might know more about where you were heading. 
Except chaos erupted before you could even meet their navigator. Maybe it was because you were surrounded by too many humans, but you felt exposed. Overstimulated. The constant chatter of the patrons. The clinks of silverware against plates. 
The animalistic part of your brain finally won out, and you ran yet again. There was a storm on the horizon and you didn't want to be caught in the middle of it. 
You didn't care which way you were going, you jumped into the water and dived deep and fast, allowing your body to follow the urge to run and hide. 
~*~
You weren't at Baratie. 
Hours later as Buggy helped the Straw Hat idiots navigate.to Arlong Park, the mantra repeated itself in his head. You weren't there. You hadn't been amongst the crowd of diners that Arlong threatened. You weren't part of Lyffy's little crew. 
Buggy was relieved. Angry. Devastated. Thankful. 
Oh, you had been there. Your voice hadn't been a figment of his deranged imagination. But apparently between Mihawk's attack and Arlong’s arrival, you had slipped off into the night without so much as a word. (Which did help a little. Especially as Sanji mourned the fact two 'lovely ladies' had disappeared on him without so much as a goodbye.)
"Wait, you knew her?" Luffy asked after Buggy not-so-subtly asked if they had seen a curvy gal in a seal-skin coat. 
Buggy grinned, though he felt an eye twitch. "You could say that.  But I mean, what man really knows a woman, am I right?" 
"She's running away from you, isn't she?" Zoro guessed-- making Buggy grit his teeth. 
God, if he had his body right now he would have decked the grass-haired man. Right in the swordsman's chest wounds. (See how he liked a knife in the heart.)
"That would imply I actually gave a shit about what she's up to." Okay. He couldn't lie to himself. He did. Hearing you were still so lost had taken the edge off his anger. He was still mad, but it was tempered with worry now. "She's merely an old acquaintance and I was surprised to hear her voice is all. She doesn't like hanging around crowds." 
"She was a jumpy little rabbit," Sanji agreed with a dreamy hint to his voice. Okay, forget the dramatic samurai-wanna be, Buggy was going to slaughter the chef. "I should have offered to protect her. To keep her safe from whatever frightened her." 
That madeBuggy laugh. "That is a riot. Friend, buddy, pal, let me tell you a little secret. Those sharp teeth aren't for decoration. I've seen her kill half a dozen men in just a few minutes with those chompers of hers alone. She'll bite your hand off if it wanders a bit too much-- and I do mean literally." 
And yet… you were still an innocent little lamb he felt compelled to protect as well.
Or maybe just stand back and watch you protect yourself, clapping and cheering the same way you did during one of his performances. 
But the fact.remained, you had left him. You did not want him or his crew. 
 He was in the midst of his body being kidnapped and sailing into the territory of one of the most vicious pirates of the East Blue with a ragtag bunch of idiots. That should be what took precedence in his mind. 
Not you. (Yet it was.)
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neteyamyawne · 1 year
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🪷 — Forever : Parted
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୭ ˚. Pairing : Widow!JakeSully x fem!na'vi!reader 
୭ ˚. summary : request
୭ ˚. Parts : pt1 pt2 pt3
୭ ˚. Song : Happiness is simple
୭ ˚. Warning : angst, age gap, hurt, no comfort, death of a major character, blood , gun shots, mildly graphic, mourning, sadness, heartbreak, little platonic fluff , hate from Jake if you squint, kinda open ending?
୭ ˚. Word count : 3.4k , not proof read
"word" - dialogue , ** word ** - flashback
୭ ˚. Note : Tsu'tey is alive bitches!!!! No one dies in my world (hehe🤭 except for one in this fic 😭)
୭ ˚. Extras : This is my first ever series, i did the best i could, not gonna lie i cried myself too, idk if y'all would like it or not so please leave your views ☺️🫶🏼
୭ ˚. Glossary : [Ma'sa'nok] - my mother, [Ma'sempul] - my father, [Palulukan] - Thanator, [sa'nu] - mom,  [tsaheylu] - neural bond , [paysyul] - water flower, [öeya tsmuke] - my sister (possesive)
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Laughter filled out of the Olo'eyktan's tent, children zooming in and out as flashes of blue and cream ran across the clearing in front of the tent, life was simple, neytiri sat near the fire, the meat slowly braising inside the pot, vapors of the seasoning wafting throughout the premises, Jake was sprawled in his hammock for once enjoying the day off as tsu'tey took over for the rest till eclipse, his sleep was interrupted as lo'ak jumped on top of his chest wheezing any air left in his lungs as Jake caught his son while coughing, neteyam, kiri and spider laughing as the old man was in distress, clearly enjoy the view neytiri adjusted her hold on tuk, who was strapped to her chest, shaking her head she turned back to the stew.
Footsteps were heard as y/n walked into the leaders tent, all the children ran towards her screaming their lungs out "Aunty y/n!!!!!" As she was tackled to the ground , her pouch filled with various trinkets fell aside as she hugged the group of kids on top of her giving them all a tight squeeze, finally Letting her go, she brought out the pouch giving them each a piece she collected or made , neteyam got a armband, lo'ak and kiri got lots of beads made or picked specially for them by their aunt y/n, spider got a new necklace which he took and went running to show it to norm and max, chuckling at their antiques she got up from the ground dusting herself as she made her way towards neytiri
~ y/n pov ~
I sat down beside Neytiri taking the little tuk from her wrap, she cooed as she looked at me, big golden eyes and soft little nose twitched now and then, even though I say i do not have favorites! Really i don't but this small bundle of joy will definitely get whatever she wants with simple boo boo eyes and I'm not ready for her to use it as weapon against me
Today was Jake and neytiri's date night as he says so, I'll be looking over the children for them, neytiri still hesitates a bit before leaving as her motherly instincts are still up, not because she doesn't trusts me, just because it's the first time leaving tuk after giving birth to her, she was like this with neteyam, lo'ak and kiri as well, i give her a reassuring smile as i say "tiri, i have taken care of them countless of times, what's one more addition to that? It's better than what lo'ak used to do anyways" with that Jake took neytiri's hand laughing at the joke, as they took off on their ikrans , turning around and looking at the kids i couldn't help but remember my childhood with neytiri…
My parents were respected warriors and hunters of the clan, but life is not always joyous, the day i was born , ma sa'nok passed away giving birth to me so mo'at took me under her wing even being 5 years younger than neytiri she never let me feel secluded, she would always take me with her everywhere she went, sylwanin used to say "eywa knew if these two were to be real sisters they would have already claimed the entire land as their own by the time they both pass their iknimaya"
No matter what anyone says neytiri was , is and always be my sister, not by blood but by soul, after i turned 6, ma sempul was attacked by a palulukan in the end loosing his life due to extreme blood loss, and the Olo'eyktan's family took me in completely, neytiri stood by my side through everything, after that incident, if we were seen together everywhere now we became inseparable, attached to the hip if you must , years passed and still the bond stayed the same.
Matching tops to communal festivals, matching beads in our hair, having the same hairstyles and even have the same hoop earrings, she was the sun to my moon, mo'at was more than happy to see her girls happy together and then came in Jake sully as everything went downhill, with her bringing him to the clan, mating with him even when she was promised to tsu'tey , she had expressed her disdain about being promised to tsu'tey after sylwanin died in the RDA attack but it was final even i couldn't do anything, tsu'tey's rage for Jake betrayal, neytiri pouncing on him to protect Jake, everything was just falling apart, the war left a big abyss in everyone's life, we almost lost tsu'tey that day, and i couldn't forget the feeling of his blood on my hands as i sew him up, the hours of praying to eywa finally coming to an end as everyone was settled over, no one can ever forget that day to their dying breath..
Soon Jake was chosen as the Olo'eyktan as he became the toruk makto, tsu'tey his right hand man, life turned for good when neytiri found out about her pregnancy, never have i seen the clan so happy in my life, that day was as cherished as neytiri was, my heart swelled as i got the new honor of being an aunt, the day i held neteyam in my arms i thought I'd die from happiness itself, neytiri smiled from the cot she was laying on after hours of labor she was utterly exhausted but still she clasped my arm as i looked at her as she said " promise me öeya tsmuke, if something were to ever happen to me, you'll take care of my children and Jake" i looked at her flabbergasted "nothing is gonna happen to you ,tiri, you'll be alright" i knew she was saying this because of the near death experience she just went through but even the thought of losing her was unbearable, "promise me y/n, please" and in that moment i didn't know what to do so i promised her….. which turned out to be a curse as of now-
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Blood dripped down my fingers as my hands were shaking with my mind still in denial as i sew up the cuts and gashes on her body, my desperate state causing the needle to slip as i cussed doing my best to not just breakdown right then and there, tears pricked my eyes, blurring my vision but i pushed everything back, cleared my mind as i worked beside mo'at, she wasn't doing any better than i was….
** Today was the first raid after last week's fiasco, the humans tricked the bombs, blasting many of our na'vi soldiers, the healing tents were filled with injured, i worked nights on end without rest to tend to them, but now was a different situation, they have made a fool proof plan, as i sat in the healing tent praying for everyone's safe return when the horns blared signaling the arrival of the war party i immediately got into action checking the salves and pastes when i heard a cry i prayed i would never hear "Y/N, MO'AT! Y/N? ARE YOU HERE- y/n quick- please do something!" My mind went blank as i saw Neytiri with blood pouring out of her torso as many bullets had pierced her while some were embedded, a long gash ran down her arm and stomach, i felt like time slowed down , my body automatically moving into action but my brain wasn't even thinking straight, it felt like i was underwater no air to breathe but my limbs were acting on their own to break the surface of the water, me and mo'at did our fucking best, removing the bullets but the blood loss was extensive, even if the logical part of me knew she won't make it, something in me held onto the hope that it'll all be okay…… Nothing was okay**
Tears lined my eyes, some Falling down freely as everything crumbled apart in my hands, Jake was screaming, mo'at was silent, as neytiri looked at me her eyes glassy as stopped me from the stitching grabbing my hand bringing it to her chest as she heaved out with difficulty "y- y/n , remem- remember our promise-" i couldn't even comprehend her words as sobs came right after, it was like all the air was sucked out of me as i shook my head but she went on " take car-" she was cut short with a cough as blood spilled out, my mind zeroed as i wipe it but she stopped me again, holding me firmly, even in her dying state her grip was just as strong as before " take care of- of them, for me, plea-" before i could even respond the life in her eyes flickered out like a dying flame, a screaming bubbled in my throat as it tumbled out but it was nothing compared to the man who sat besides his mate's dead body, no one on earth or Pandora has seen Jake sully scream for his love as he did now, the whole of omaticaya silenced at the sceams of a mate losing his other half, everything felt numb, like a void that sucked everything inn, leaving the man to grieve in private i stumbled out but my legs failed me as i crashed into the ground, sobs wrecking my body and i doubled over my knees, letting everything out, i lost my mentor, my rock, my sun more importantly my tsmuke, everything blurred over as i felt hands touch my shoulder but i didn't care who it was but the next i knew i was being engulfed in a hug, the warmth did nothing to soothe the cold that wrapped around me as i sobbed, a void in my chest that could never be filled again, seconds turned to minutes, minutes turned to hours as i got up from my spot outside the healing tent, mo'at was seated beside me, she was fast asleep after all the crying that was done, i looked inside as Jake was still besides neytiri, my already fractured heart broke a thousand pieces at the scene, i turned around not wanting to look at Jake's mournful cries but i was met with the faces that will haunt me forever…….
Sitting down inside their Hut as everyone hugged me tight as they all cried for their mother, tuk hugged my neck asking what was going on but i couldn't even bring myself to answer that question before breaking into tears as they all slowly drifted into sleep but i sat there staring at the ceiling , silent tears flowing non- stop.
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I stood a little behind Jake as they lowered neytiri into the small hole dug into the hometree as she finally United with the great mother, tears smeared my cheeks as i watched, the peaceful look on her face can almost trick anyone into thinking she was asleep if they didn't know better, goosebumps running down my body as i watched Jake choke back on his sobs, he was the strongest man I've ever known and seeing him like that makes me want to hurl my stomach out, i walked forward gently throwing the flower petals onto her body, after me as did everyone else, as mo'at started chanting to eywa i couldn't take it as i turned around and speed walked myself into my tent as i curled into a ball and cried till there was nothing left, all that left behind was a husk, even though my mind knew she was gone, gone forever and never coming back, my heart still denied it, this was not how it was supposed to be, she was supposed to be here laughing and enjoying as we all ate together, not like this, all cold with no sense of warmth to ever return too, not like this with no one to turn when you have a problem, no one to hug when you have a bad day, no one… no one there to share your presence with…
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A few months have passed on, Jake had thrown himself into work, working his emotions into war plans, his appearance becoming tattered more then ever but no one dared to question him, there were way too many raids throughout the week, warriors were getting exhausted but didn't once complaint as they went through every raid, more were getting injured but no word was spoken as it went on, but what did catch my eye was his behavior was just as same towards neteyam and lo'ak as it was towards the actual warriors, always making them do task way above their league as he walked away going into the war tent, sighing i knew if i intervened right now Jake would punish the boys even more but i couldn't just sit around seeing them miserable, as i got to them, they stopped in their tracks tensing up but when they saw who it was all tension faded away, as i opened my arms and they both stumbled into the hug, i squeezed them tight giving them both a kiss on their forehead as i told them " finish you work and come home, I'll make your favorite dinners" as they both smiled nodding and going to do their work with a renewed power.
After the food was done i got up wiping myself of the sweat , turning around i saw tuk laying in the hammock, it wasn't her laying down that concerned me, it was the sniffles i heard, as i walked over to her bending down a bit as i caressed her hair "tuk, sweetheart, what is wrong?" I got in beside her as she held onto me, her nose pressed into my neck as i felt her tears fall on my shoulder, i just rubbed her back , finally calming down i asked once again "what is wrong baby?" She sniffled before answering " is mommy never going to come back?" And my heart shattered hearing those words, how was I even supposed to explain to her what death was? But i tried my best " you see, when people grow old, they become weak, that's when the great mother calls them back to her so they can all rest in peace, we are all eywa's children, we all return back to her, but when they get their eywa's love is so strong they all stay there, you mommy is there as well, she's at peace and is watching over us, as the time comes we'll all meet her eventually" tuk just stared at me with big wide eyes as she processed the information, nodding she said "then i hope i see eywa as soon as possible" now it was my turn to stare at her with wide eyes " No, paysyul, you cannot do that, you'll see her when the time comes not before or after " giving me a nod of understanding she plopped her head right into my neck yet again clutching me close, few minutes later she was passed out cold as i held her close, neteyam and lo'ak got back as they looked at me , giving me smiles that didn't quite reach their eyes, i knew Jake had scolded them yet again, sighing i carefully placed tuk into the hammock, mentally remembering to feed her later, as i helped the boys to serve, while they ate their dinner i said "you boys stay here for a while, I'm going to your grandmother's to help her" they just nodded while lo'ak also gave me a thumbs up, smiling i made my way towards the healing tent.
As i got in, i saw kiri and mo'at talking, mo'at smiled as i entered "ahh ma child, come come" kiri looked up and smiled, squatting beside her i spoke "kiri, go home now, you've helped enough, i have made dinner, eat something, I'll handle this from here" she just looked down for a moment then nodding as she got up bidding a quick bye she went out, neytiri's passing was a lot harder on the girl, as she already didn't have grace now her, she became really quite talking only to me , mo'at and spider , as i got to work, i saw mo'at was a bit quieter than usual , eyeing her a few times i broke the silence as it was getting too much "what is it ma sa'nok? You seem quieter than usual" she turned to face me, her face a bit paler than usual as well, i got worried by the passing seconds of silence, she opened her mouth to speak but didn't, worried i asked again "sa'nu are you alright? Do you need anything?" As if with newfound confidence, her next sentence broke the ground i stood on "you are to mate with toruk makto, there has been a sign from eywa and it shall be done as soon as possible " as i processed her words the only thing leaving my mouth was "WhAt?!" And i was ready to bet the entirety of omaticaya heard me in that moment, she just looked at me with a calm expression repeating the words again, "you are to be mated to Jake Sully and there will be no exceptions" i just stared at her dumbfounded, without listening anything more i walked out, not wanting to hear another word…….
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I sat at the edge of the lake me and tiri used to come too, dangling my legs into the water, flicking it now and then sighing, i mulled over what mo'at said , closing my eyes i reeled over the thoughts of tuk, kiri, lo'ak and neteyam, their faces zooming through my mind , groaning i knew i had to say yes, not just because of the sign eywa had showed but due to my promise to neytiri, my head hung down as i was lost in thoughts, finally hardening my heart, i walked back towards the healing tent, praying all goes smoothly, walking inside i saw eywa has turned her back to me, standing right in front of me with his back to me was Jake sully himself, inhaling a deep breath, calming my heart, i walked forward, mo'at seeing me smiled as Jake turned, his figure towering over me, his look almost looked murderous, i just hoped it wasn't towards me , my tail fell between my legs, i spoke "i agree for the union" Jake's head snapped to mine as he almost broke it, his annoyance evident as he said "you can't be serious right now? You really want to do that to neytiri!!?" My heart sunk at the words we haven't spoken after that day in the tent, now i don't even know if this was even worse but i kept my opinion firm as i turned to him, fear lingered but i bit down on it " i said i am ready for the union, i promised Neytiri and i won't let it down" he flashed his fangs at me but i kept stotic, mo'at took her que to leave as her work to get the word across was done, Jake gritted "you will take that back right now" , "it is eywa's will, we can't run from it Jake, it has to be done or it won't be good for any of us if the great mother herself is angered" i said, "so you're ready to give yourself up to a man who won't even look at you with what a mate should look?" I winced at the words but i knew i had to keep her promise as i nodded, he had a look of disbelief on his face but he took a breathe looking at me with a serious face he said the words that rocked my world " if that's your decisions then here's mine, i won't make tsaheylu with you, nor will i give you what a mate can give you but i will respect and protect you and that's my words but do not expect anything more from me" he scoffed and stormed out of the tent, i just crumbled to the floor bringing my knees close to my chest as i curled up on myself, repeating on and on that this was for good and for the Better future of the kids but my heart mourned for MY future as it saw everything crash down into ash….
I got up , chin held high, if the future I saw for myself wasn't going to happen then I'll make a different one and make it happen, for myself, for Neytiri as I walked out of the tent ready to face the cruel fate I was destined too…
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A/n : i just finished this and i couldn't believe i wrote upto 3k, like i get bored to write 200 words essay and now I'm writing these big ass fics, I'm like 🥹😭🫣 anyway if you wanna be tagged then please go see the pinned post on my blog 💙🫶🏼
Yawne : @elriel-4-ever, @fanboyluvr, @callmeoncette, @lu-the-ghost-reader, @brisbriskett, @saltedcoffeescotch, @jackiehollanderr, @zoetrope1997, @yeosxxx
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©Neteyamyawne2023 | All Rights Reserved. Do not repost on other platforms, copy, steal, or translate any of my works!
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letsgetrowdy43 · 11 months
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The Timeline ☆—
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Au Masterlist!!
Honey was born and raised in Plymouth, Michigan.
Her father was the equipment manager for the USNTDP U18 team, meaning that she spent a lot of time surrounding the sport and the culture.
Her whole life revolved around training camps, away games, spending most of her Christmases in other countries to attend the world juniors
With this lifestyle of constantly being on the move, she spent a good portion of her life taking in new cultures, learning and admiring travelling around the world, which led to her love of photography
Quinn was the first Hughes she met in Michigan before the rest of the family moved down for Jack to follow in his footsteps.
The other Hughes' moved into town and basically took over the hockey scene, meaning that she spent a lot of time around the family of five
When Quinn and her had originally met it was around their sophomore year of High school and Quinn was all heart eyes for her.
The poor boy could not form a coherent sentence around her, everything was mumbles and whispers until she was asked to photograph some portraits for the USNTDP
Her father had gotten her an internship with the communication team for the program, and after many complaints about how the teams needed better graphics, they finally gave her creative liberty over the Instagram page.
So now they sat in an overly lit room, a camera in her hands and him in full gear as she listened to his coach's wishes for the photos.
At this point in their life, they had only ever talked within classes when their moms were carpooling their brothers, or in passing.
So the moment the coach left the only noise remaining in the room was the humming of the air-conditioning.
Quinn's mouth ran dry as she put the camera up to her eye to size him up in the viewfinder, her cheeks turned a bright shade of pink as she examined his side profile. Quietly thinking to herself "omg this guy is like extremely attractive" her eyes roamed around his features.
"I had no idea you were into photography," he said sheepishly as she messed around with the lighting and the backdrop, she moved over to reposition his stance and position now, fixing the jersey that draped over his frame to better show off the Team USA logo
"It's a hobby I picked up in junior high, while in Sweden for a tournament," a smile danced on her lips as he mimicked the pose she wanted him in.
Memories of that particular WJC flashed through her mind as she remembered her and her younger brother opening a gift each on Christmas Day, hers being a new Canon camera. Something she'd never expressed an interest in, but something that soon became one of her greatest passions.
"The media thing is something my dad wants me to pursue" She shrugged as she found herself standing in front of him, fingers raking through his hair to make it sit just right.
She had barely noticed that she had done it until her eyes met his, shock displayed across his features as his cheeks turned bright pink.
From that day on she had basically been attached at the hip to Quinn, wherever he was, so was she.
The nickname stemmed from Ellen calling her honey, Quinn thought it was endearing thus forth he claimed it as his own.
Luke and Jack had settled for the nickname Hun, at first it was mockingly, but then it just stuck.
She was his best friend throughout his time on the U18 USNTDP Team, his runs at the WJCs, his draft day, and up into his time in the NCAA
Her original plan was to attend MSU and gain a degree in communications through their program, but the thought of growing apart from her favourite Hughes felt too bitter
So instead, and after quite a bit of convincing from Quinn, she followed him all the way to Umich to pursue a career in media and sports management.
The summer going into their sophomore year was his NHL draft, the entire Hughes family was in Dallas, nerves racking their brains as they awaited Quinn's name to be called.
Honey sat prettily, dressed up in his favourite colour (to match his suit) as his name was picked to go 7th overall.
A wide grin on her face as she watched him hug all of the friends and family around him, landing lastly on his best friend who he just smiled at softly and hugged tenderly, allowing her to place a kiss on his cheek before he walked up to receive his Canucks jersey.
they began to date in their sophomore year, after a lot of dancing around the subject Honey.
Honey was the one who made the first move as they unpacked his thing sin his and josh's new dorm room. A shy smile of his face as she pulled away breatlessly, smirking at the flush on hi cheeks.
they dated throughout their sophomore year, it felt like they were on a tightrope for a good amount of the year though, knowing that by the end of the school year, it was more than likely that Quinn was to be sent out to Canada.
And just as expected Quinn was in Vancouver by the end of the spring semester.
The long-distance was definitely not kind to them, with the time difference and the fast pace of their lives, both decided it was best for them to take a break.
They sat down during Christmas of her junior year and his off-week and decided it was for the best for them to break up, and then possibly pick up where they left off after she finished her schooling
That didn't exactly go to plan, because as soon as the off-season started and she was home for her summer break the two of them were literally attached to each other once again.
Let's just say although they were not together they were definitely taking advantage of being able to hook up at any given opportunity
Luke and Jack definitely chirped the fuck out of Quinn, they had seen and heard their fair share of the couple over the summer
The summer came to an end, and although it had been a whirlwind of emotion Quinn thought it was still a better idea to let Honey go out and be single for her last year.
On the day of her graduation Quinn showed up on her front door step in a suit and a gift in his hand, he didn't know how she still felt about him but he wanted to make it known that he wanted her.
she opened the door, a grin on her lips as he blushed at her pretty appearance, and pressed a small gift box in her hand.
"I do not expect you to uproot your life for me, but I want you to know that I want you in my life" he whispered, as she opened the gift box in her had to reveal a key to his apartment.
Two months later and the two of them were packing up all of her essentials and sending them off to Vancouver.
Honey started a job as a media manager for a Bridal store, acclimating to the life of an NHL girlfriend (too which she slayed)
The following Christmas (2021) was when they found out that they were expecting warren, too which prompted Quinn proposing to her
I love a good shotgun wedding and 100% this wedding was an outcome of the unplanned pregnancy but Quinn and Honey were on cloud 9 the moment they find out that they were going to be parents
Ellen and Jim were just over the moon, they love Honey, they love Quinn, and they love the couple, and they were just so excited to be grandparents.
Warren was born in October, in Vancouver, both sets of in-laws flew in along with the couple’s brothers.
Parenthood came on extremely easy for Quinn, and a little less easy for Honey, but eventually, they worked out the kinks and she finally figured out motherhood but in her own light.
They had their second baby in the summer of 2024, welcoming their baby girl Hayden into the world
Life was perfect for them, their two babies, and their happy marriage, and then a media manager position opens up for Honey which opened many more opportunities for the content family
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sheep-from-rad · 2 years
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Safe with me (SAGAU Scaramouche x reader) Note: Guess whose birthday is it(Oct 16)? Yes it’s mine and Xinyan!! My school might start face-to-face classes in November and honestly I am not feeling it. I wanna run away. Also, this is bordering platonic because Scaramouche is my baby like I heard his backstory and I went ‘screw this I’m adopting him’ PS. This fanfic looks better in my head. I wrote it and told myself...'wth did I just wrote' Warnings: injuries (non graphic), violence (non-graphic), OOC (you’ll see why) Masterlist 
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Scaramouche let out a harsh command as his robot marched forward through the rainforests. Supposed he already gave up on everything and just started living his life a few months ago but the so-called heroes of this world just made him lose it. ‘I’m losing my mind’, Scaramouche thought. He never once thought that he will be working together with someone and that someone being the mighty traveler themself. Who would have thought that one fateful meeting would lead to this? 
Scaramouche staggered as he struggled to find a shelter from the coming rain. He is used to just resting wherever possible but he might not be able to fend himself right now if he becomes careless. Dottore has set him up for failure and he was basically using him as a scientific experiment. In this world, in order to get a material , one should pay a price or work hard for it and he knows that it will happen. His body felt like it was being torn and being made each and every day and at the end Dottore, much like his creator, threw him away after deeming his work insufficient. 
He cursed mentally as a group of fungi spotted him. He readied himself, ignoring the pain that bloomed when he drew his weapon. ‘I trained myself too hard’, he gritted his teeth. ‘I’m not gonna be defeated by mere plants’. One, two, three, four down. Scaramouche thought it was over until a hard push knocked him off his feet and into the ground. It would be nice if he just fell in the group, he can just easily get up but he was falling in the darkness. It was the same darkness when he was first betrayed, the only difference is that the thunder is not calling his name. 
Behind his giant mech, few people who named themselves as friends of the traveller are marching for the same cause: freeing their creator. He remembered the first time they both had a deep talk. They argue that they are not the creator and they are simply just like the traveller minus the flairs for battle. That one day they just woke up to a whole different world and the aranaras claimed them to be a god. Back then, Scaramouche wanted to hate them for allowing his creation but he remembered the old books inside Tenshukaku. 
It was a story of an ancient absent god whose name was forgotten by its people. They weren’t the original creator of the world but they are the god who nurtured and taught the people of kindness and knowledge of how to live. It was the story of an ancient absent god who was akin to the anemo archon: let the people have their freedom and will only interfere if the problem is really severe. It was a story of a god who everyone thought was dead but they have been missing for thousands and thousands of years. 
“You need to eat”, they said as they placed a bowl of freshly cooked food in front of him. It has been weeks since he has fallen down the Varuna contraption and is now adjusting to his new life together with talking vegetables. He eyed the food before turning away, opting to watch the aranara who was walking by. “I’m no human. I don’t need to eat.” It turned out that he was found by one of the arenas after he fell down the contraption and even though his identity is not known, they did not leave him alone. You sat across from him and turned to your own bowl. “Albedo is not human too but he makes good food and he really loves sweets”. 
Ever since he was found by the cute creatures, you have been taking care of him and won’t stop pestering him. “What if I’m evil and are actually out to kill you?” he muttered quietly but it did not miss your ear. “And then the aranaras won’t have found you.” You pushed the bowl closer to his form with a warm smile that never once left your lips. Guess he won’t really be able to push you away, huh? He picked up the utensil and took a small portion and the flavour immediately spread in his mouth. ‘I can get used to this.’ 
The city was abnormally quiet, there were no people in sight, which is weird because the researchers of the Akademiya never sleep. The chirping from the birds are louder now and they sound even more haunting now that there’s no people around. Scaramouche unmounts the robot with the traveller and their companion right behind him. “Doesn’t this silence remind you of something, traveller?” the small fairy in the group stated. “It’s like that time Dottore took control of everyone.” 
Scaramouche excitedly walked home carrying large bags of fruits and spices. While he is still a criminal, a few people around Sumeru have warmed up to him and they have not been trading plants every few weeks. This week he has meat that came from the ruler from the desert and spices from Gandharva ville. Maybe tonight they could try that curry recipe that the traveller gave them or maybe they could try some recipes from another nation. Scaramouche found himself as not a picky eater but he is biassed towards food that is rich in flavour like Chicken Tofu pudding. 
Instead of the aranara singing, he was greeted by the Varanara outside the dreams. Immediately worry started blooming in his chest, hands shaking, struggling to keep the large bags up. He fears he got abandoned again but it is impossible because they never once pulled away even though he showed bad behaviour. “Scara! You’re here!” Paimon screeched out. He is still getting used to their presence being friendly towards him but Paimon’s voice is something that for sure will take longer time. 
“What is happening?” he collected himself, looking at the tiny fairy who was flailing her equally tiny arms frantically. She rubbed her head in confusion (or was it being unable to word out what just happened?), ready to spat out everything in a scrambled pot of words but she was saved by the traveller who is brandishing a bloodied sword with them. 
“Our enemies took them.” 
Their group climbed the stairs towards the akademiya and they were greeted by mind controlled citizens. “The two of you go up!”Cyno shouted. “Alhaitham and I can handle them!” The traveller gave them a nod as they ran further up. Scaramouche swears that if they touch a single hair on their head, he will go berserk. The moment Dottore let go of him months ago, a new project has started: breaking the original god to gain control of the whole Teyvat and that is one project that he will prevent with his both hands if it ever happens. 
“I know you were going to come”, Dottore and his masked self emerged from the door. It is just them, Dottore, and the traveller now. Scaramouche drew his weapon, ready to fight his former colleague anytime now. “Let them go”, he warned. Dottore only smiled at the two of them. “What for? If you don’t know it yet, you’re the one that leads them to us. Tsaritsa would be so proud of you.” 
Cyno and Alhaitham joined their ranks and soon a few fatui joined Dottore as well. “If you want your god back and then you might as well have a duel with me.” Mentally, Scaramouche sighed. ‘What are you going to do? Slap me with a textbook?’ 
“You know the sky is not real right?” Scaramouche found them sitting on top of the giant leaves. You only smiled at him, putting a finger on your lips and then looking at the sleeping Aranara on your lap. Time passes weirdly inside Varanara given that it is located inside a dream and a day inside there might just be an hour outside. Scaramouche will not admit it but if a world locked between a dream and a frozen time could give him love that he didn’t get and then he will gladly stay inside forever. 
“Many moons ago, the sky was so dark that people were scared to even look at the night sky”, you started. Scaramouche took the space on your side, resting his head on the giant leaf as he stared at the sky. “Some people, due to fear, even said that the sky is cursed and it beckons evil if you stare long enough on it.” You gently put the sleeping Aranara down next to him. “While everything outside this dreamworld is fake, it is still good to find something that is worth living for right?” 
Bodies after bodies fall but the numbers don't go down. The more people they fight, the more comes up. The group is not fighting the controlled people using their weapons but they instead just hit the best points to render them unconscious. They can’t really kill anyone so the best option they can do is to dodge their weapons. It’s strange how Dottore was able to control everyone just by using the Akasha terminal but then again the people of Sumeru had it coming. 
“Scaramouche behind you!” 
Scaramouche turned around to see Dottore running to him in full speed with sword on hand but before he could even get close, a giant dome of dendro enveloped him, taking him away from everyone. “I can lead you to them but you need to grab them fast”, he recognized the voice as the Dendro Archon herself. 
“Why should I trust you?” he asked. He doesn’t have trust in anyone, especially archons. The dendro archon could be trapping him right now as they talk and he can’t help but raise his weapon. “I may not be as powerful as the other archons but I will never let my voice let someone astray.” In a flash he found himself deep within the Akademiya’s library and before he knew it, Scaramouche was running. 
Way before the three moons hang in the sky, the world is enveloped in darkness. Humans prosper within daylight but whenever the sun goes down fear and terror also prospers. Alarmed, a young god of kindness and humility from above the sky asked the highest for their favour: they asked for the stars and the moons. Soon, the night is loved like people do when the sun is out but the young god knows the rule of the world. IF you want something, you have to pay the price. The bigger the demand, the bigger exchange. 
Soon, the young god is now walking alongside mortals. They taught everyone how to be safe at night, how to take care of everyone, and most of all how to be kind. But nothing in this world stays the same. People rose to power, so did the newer gods. With Violence and bloodshed and teachings of kindness all forgotten, the young god then vanished. 
He didn’t waste any time to take them out of the structure that they are currently sleeping in. “I’m going to take you and everyone away from here. I will handle my people.” He heard the dendro archon once again speak before they got transported near Varanara. Maybe Varanara needs to be locked in the dream longer to keep everyone safe. 
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Taglists: @uchihaeirin | @chihawari | @tinandabin
@eccedentesiast-sapphic | @zuri-feather
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justjams2003 · 8 months
Text
Sweet Savagery- 2
Paring: Dark!Thor Odinson x Slave!Reader
Summary: All your life, Thor's blue eyes have haunted you. You believed you outran him, but now all your hopes come tumbling down.
Warnings: Death of loved ones, violence, nightmares, non-con, p in v, degradation. Tell me if I missed any.
Word count: 1.8k+, Unedited
1st Divider by: @firefly-graphics
2nd Divider by: @cafekitsune
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The throbbing pain between your legs overshadows the comfort of a bed after years of not having one. It feels as though someone has run lightning through your back and shoulders.
Your thighs are raw, and your shoulders are red with hand prints. Regular lovers would preen, they would show off love bites after a steamy night. But you’re left only with the signs of aggression.  
Moving feels almost impossible. Each of your muscles is stiff and worn. The morning wind blows through the windows and curtains, causing a chill to run down your spine.
You’re still on top of the sheet and the side you didn’t sleep on, has gone untouched. If it weren’t for your appearance and the presence of pain, you’d think last night never happened.  
You did not move until the sun was high in the sky. Not that it matters much, this time of the year, the sun has little effect. At least it hasn’t started snowing yet, but that can be expected in the following days. The need to crawl into the sheets is overwhelming, but the dryness of your throat is more substantial.  
Each move is agony, but soon enough you find the remains of your nightdress. Though now, it covers even less than it did before. A choice must be made. Go through the mad king’s closet and find something to fear, but risk angering him? Or risk the guards seeing more than they should? With a sigh, you open the door ever so slightly.  
“Sir?” Your voice is coarse and faint, but still, you go on. “Could you perhaps ask a maid for some water?” You question if they even heard you, but it’s clear at least one of them had when they start marching away. Soon after, you heard a knock and let the maid in. It’s a short, stout, older woman who seems to enter in a flurry.  
“Oh dear! I cannot tell you how strange it is to see someone in His Majesty’s room. Or even be in here!” You can’t help but furrow your brows, has she never been in here. “My apologies, dear, we had a hurried meal made for you. You must be starved, it’s already mid-noon!” She pulls off the silver lid from the plate.  
On the plate, are an assortment of cheeses, meats and fruits along with water and wine. Your stomach grumbles for the first time in years. After being starved for so long, your stomach had grown numb and used to scraps.
“Just look at you! So strange, so strange.” She mutters to herself, pouring you a glass of water.  
“Would it be rude of me to ask why my presence is so strange?” You ask after taking a big gulp of the liquid. It eases the pain and soreness and makes it must easier to ask the questions burning in your mind. “Surely His Highness has had other guests?” A frown forms on your face when she shakes her head.  
“Oh no, dear, His Majesty himself is only seen entering and leaving his room once a day. And when he does have a person over, they...” It appears that she refuses to continue speaking.
A chill rushes through your body at her words. Violent images flash through your mind. “Not to worry, dear, if he’s let you stay, I’m sure it means you’re special.”  
Suddenly the cheese tastes sour. What if he has something planned far worse than any other people? “I’ll have one of the maids bring you a dress when they pick up your dishes. How long do you think you’ll be staying?” She asks with an unknowing smile. “I fear I might be staying forever.”  
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Every day it was the same ritual. He would beckon you over with the fall of his hammer. And after taking off his cape and armour, he would take you like an animal. As if you're prey, he's claiming as his own property. A wild beast tearing you to shreds and at the same time causing a tear in your mind.
He's the only interaction you had throughout the day. Besides, of course, the simple hello, thank you and goodbye to the maids. These four walls are all you have.  
Morning and night, the quiet creeps into the corners of your mind. The balcony helps, yes, seeing the villagers go about their day. Doing their daily tasks, surely begging for the sweet silence you have now.
What they don't know is how cruel it can be. If you counted the moons correctly, it was a full 2 months before you finally caved.  
After another night of grunts, pull and push, your body acted much quicker than your mind. Reaching out to the only form of contact you have. Grabbing the king by the wrist before he can scatter away like so many nights before.  
"Thor, please...stay." You can't believe you uttered the words. It feels almost strange to hear your own voice. What's even stranger is his reaction. He doesn't even waiver in his actions. He pulls the sheets back, allowing the both of you to crawl underneath. And now, in the silence, you're not sure why you asked him to stay.  
His blue eyes, still the exact same shade of thunder blue, still glow in the dark. So beautiful, so dangerous, so enticing. What is it about them that lingers so? And why does nobody else seem to notice them like you do?  
His golden locks are lightly coated in sweat and even after so many nights you still haven't gotten used to his beauty. "Please say something." It's all you manage to mutter. It's barely above a mumble and yet even in the dark, you can tell he's heard you.  
"What would you like me to say?" His voice is just as coarse as your own, in contrast though, it carries so much more authority. His years of battle seem to ooze from him. "Anything. I fear the quiet will kill me before you do."
Now you've really done it. The solidarity has made your tongue loose. You hope to cover it up with a chuckle, but the deep furrow in his brow shows that he does not find it amusing.  
"I will not kill you." He keeps his words sparse as he leans back against the headboard with his back. "You can't blame me for thinking it." He scoffs at this. "If I wanted to kill you, I would not be making love to you." His words hold a sense of humour as if it's the most obvious thing in the world for him.  
Now you’re the one to scoff but bite your tongue. If he believes that to be making love, it’s no wonder he’s left without a wife or child.  
"That's not what the maids say. People tell me I'm the only one to have spent a night with you and live. They won't even speak of what remains of the others." You relay to him, for some reason growing comfortable. Or maybe you've gone just a bit mad yourself, here, alone.  
"They are not you." The words speak volumes unmatched. Still not satisfied, you press on. "I should be no different from them. I should mean even less than them." This seems to be the wrong thing to say. For he has the same look as your first night. Guilt. His heart opening just so slightly. He reaches to touch you, softly and without malicious intent.  
Lightly on the cheek and then tucking stray hairs behind your ear. "Sleep. I will have someone show you the castle tomorrow. I feel your solitary confinement will cause you to get in trouble."  
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That morning, just like every morning before, you find yourself alone in the room. Yet for some reason, the crumpled sheets next to you bring a warm fuzzy feeling to your heart.
Some slight form of domestic bliss through the rabid ruthlessness of the king. And yet, now you're questioning if he even is such a mad king.  
If his forced violation of your body can ever be looked past, what has he done? In the two months spent there, he has not lifted a hand against you. He’s been much kinder than any of your other owners.
But is the violation worth it? Is it worth a full belly, clothed body, warm bed and wrists free from chains? Where must you give in and embrace the life you’re sworn to live now?  
A knock disrupts your mind, and you start the same routine every day over. Except today, you decide to wear the prettiest dress that the maids had given you. Braiding your hair, which has grown so long after many years of neglect, in the only way you know how.
You’ve never been in a castle before and judging the architecture of Thor’s room is anything to go by, it’ll be gorgeous. 
It was, to say the least, beautiful. Each wall and roof has intricate details. Golden touches and marble floors. Statues made of colossal size, each celebrating Thor or one of the higher-up men.
Pillars made of stone and granite of enormous size, hold up roofs as tall as mountains. They showed you the great hall, the kitchen and the gardens. Which are filled with mostly dead bushes now due to the winter air.  
The library is huge, and it makes you yearn to force yourself into each one of the written stories. Just how badly you so wished you could read; never have you had the opportunity to be educated. What truly sent your adrenaline flowing running is the training arena. Your maid, one of the younger ones seemed the most excited about this area.  
There is a platform to watch, and you can’t help but laugh at the silliness of it all. “Why do you laugh? I do think this is a good past time.” She’s not entirely wrong, heavyset, sweaty men, bigger than any other kingdom you’ve seen before, clashing muscles and swords. Dust flies in a storm and then suddenly stops.  
Those piercing blue eyes, you recognise from anywhere, enter the arena. They all salute him before returning to their training. Now, they spar. They form a circle around Thor. Each of the knights gives it their all, attacking with their years of skill and hours of training. It has little effect; he throws them off with ease.  
Like the nights you know so well, he doesn’t even break a sweat. The other men are in comfortable clothes, some even shirtless, but he is still in his usual full armour.
It comforts you knowing he can leave over 6 foot tall, over 20 stone men, groaning in the dust, and yet he chooses to keep you well. “My Lady, I do not know how you handle all that each night.”  
A blush coats you from your cheeks to the tips of your ears. It’s as if he heard you at that very moment, his eyes catch yours. He smirks and, at that moment, slams a guard, full speed, into the wall. The guard, who now looks small in stature, falls to the floor with a thump.
He grabs onto his body as groans of pain leave his mouth. His pain ripples through the arena. Everyone can feel that his bones cracked. After hours of training, this act seems to be the end of it.  
Thor finally speaks a word, it’s a loud boom, even if he doesn’t yell, it echos all around. “Pathetic.”  
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bakerstreethound · 1 year
Text
Won’t You Stay?
Relationship: Sherlock Holmes x reader
Warnings: mentions of overworking oneself, brief mentions of self-deprecation, anxiety, angst, comfort, and soft sherlock 
Summary: Starting a new semester always has it downfalls and shortcomings, but Sherlock is there to hold you through the worst of times, especially to help combat your greatest foe - your mind. 
All writings belong to me @bakerstreethound (Do NOT claim, repost, copy or translate my works to other sites. I only publish here and on A03 under the same username)
Word Count: 1k+
A/N: Sorry for being MIA in the fanfiction department. This semester has been keeping me busy & I’m trying to dedicate more time to recharging and trying not to push myself as vigorously. I hope you enjoy this work; I feel a little rusty right now, but I hope to brush up as I progress. I almost debated trashing this work. Anyways I hope you like some more Sherlock comfort. Graphic by @firefly-graphics​ Comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated. 
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You’re tired, oh so tired, still stuck at your desk, barely watching Sherlock walking by pouting. He's been observing you for the past couple of hours, wanting to be close to you, not knowing how to properly voice his thoughts. 
He knew your work was important, well for the most part, but he hated how it distracted you from him. when all he wants you nearer to him, preferably on his lap, or being spooned by you. 
That was even truer especially now since your major classes are already taking a good portion of your time for the next four months, going by all the information loaded in your messy syllabi. Not that he read them or looked over them while you were busy involved searching for textbooks and the like. 
“Something wrong?” You fight off the yawn but eventually give in, a soft smile forming on your face, happy to pry your eyes from the computer and notes you’d written by hand earlier. 
You shook out your wrist, frowning as something twinged and you rub a finger along your palm in a soothing circle. Such was the life of a student the wrist and finger cramps had no end in sight. Pair that with the stress and ever present anxiety that came from worrying about multiple impending projects, but those would be completed in their own time.  
He watches you, brow arching in concern before he strides over to you, reaching you quickly, carefully grasping your hand and encasing it in his large hand. You watch intent on seeing where this goes until he rubs the palm of your hand gently and almost immeidtaly the tension dissipates and you feel yourself relaxing as you sigh heavily. 
“Been distracted. You could use a distraction too.” his gaze falls to your tense shoulders, the way your neck cranes over the computer, tendons stretched in agony, the way your fingers hovered over the keyboard, like they’re afraid typing will set you on fire. It wasn’t that, your brain was stuck on a loop your stomach in knots, twin snakes biting, fighting for dominance, filling you with their unrelenting poisons. 
The self doubt pressing against you is a vice inside your chest, running from the brain all along your body. You breathe, trying to clear your mind, for you know oh you know how it lies twisting deep inside you they’re hard not to listen to or believe. Still, your heart hammers, mind swimming, trying to calm the storm brewing, to no avail. 
You’re stuck, trapped in a formula of your own creation, self perpetrated by all your doubts, fears, unwarranted thoughts seeping through; taunting you, lashing out their tongues, brimming hot searing fire spitting in your face. 
You try to concentrate on Sherlock’s words but everything falls in one ear and out the other, yet you watch him intently, his hand in yours, ignoring the words on your screen, trying everything you can to focus. 
For the love focus, you’re better than this
Bet everyone else has their project figured out already
You’re way out of you depth, you don’t belong there
Lies lies, stupid lies, you try to pull them from your mind, but still they’re chained to you, whooshing back and forth, pressing downward on you, phantoms of wrath coming to collect their dues, determined to destroy you from within. 
“Sherlock…I don’t know if I can do this…” You swallow, looking up at him, slamming your laptop as you take a deep breath, filled with turmoil and confusion. You don’t know what to say, fighting back the ashy feeling in your throat, the tears you know won’t come until the darkness of the night washes over you, long before anyone on the block is asleep. 
Why is it always so damn hard for you to voice what you need?
You felt like a child everything overwhelming, you wanted it all to go away, you wanted to disappear. How were you supposed to ask for something you can’t describe? Foreign words upon your tongue just there lingering a moment and gone again in an instant. Why did it hurt to say help? You would be seen as week nothing just a burden and not anything more. One word, four letters yet you can’t say it, though you desperately need to. 
Sensing your agitation Sherlock reaches his hand out to you, guiding you away from the throes of your turmoil, a beacon of light, as he takes you to bed, waiting until you settle in between the sheets before joining you. 
He falls on top of you trapping you, his weight a comfort. You smile kissing him before he buries his face in the crook of your neck and you pull him impossibly closer needing to feel him, your heart aching yearning for more of him though he is here in your arms. You choke back a sob, forgetting how much you crave him and his touches. 
The pure simplicity of being here his presence, means more to you than you can ever express. The past, the impending future didn’t matter in this moment, the world ceases to exist in this moment of peace grown from bine aching sorrow. 
“Please, stay,” you whisper, kissing him softly before it grows in desperation. 
“I’m here,” he responds in kind, soft kisses littered along your body. You feel it in every movement of his body, rememorizing you once more. Even when apart for some time, you always fit right back into him, it was only a memory game, nothing felt as you did right now in his arms.
The version of you from his mind palace doesn’t hold a candle to you, nor the sparkle in your eyes when you look at him, something he feels like he doesn’t deserve, but he holds you, stroking your sides, pressing a kiss to your forehead. It’s the least he can do, he reasons, he knows how much you have to sit through his insufferable cases dealing with his antics. 
You trusting him this way, well it is something he is constantly learning not to take for granted and when you kiss him on the lips, whispering your thanks, it’s all the reassurance he needs. You’ll make it through together, despite the lies your mind tells you and he will be there for you to calm your worries and fears. Each kiss he presses to your lips solidifies this, every time he’s rescued you from these irrational fears and now you can just be…here with him in the moment, drifting off into a dreamless sleep. 
******
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eydi-andrius · 2 years
Text
What He Wants (Aemond Targaryen x Strong!Reader)
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WARNINGS: creepy behavior, cussing summary: The castle of Harrenhal has been your safe space after the tragedy that befallen you while traveling the foreign land. You survived being an almost bride of a dothraki warrior but not the gossip that you lost your honor during that unfortunate day. However, after the death of your father and older brother, you were tasked to continue serving the crown. And it seems like only the unfortunate keep following you around as you caught the eye of the Prince Aemond who was known to be cold and ambitious who traded his eye to tame his now dragon, Vhagar.
a/n: I originally uploaded this on my ao3. i decided to upload it here as compensation because im not feeling well lately and i am behind with my other story "don't get sad, get even". i hope you enjoy it.
not beta-read.
and i am busy with fixing my masterlist so i am really behind everything. yikes.
divider by @firefly-graphics
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“Are you really sure you wanted to do this?” Larys squeezed your hand and asked you for the tenth time if you’re going to show your face now after years of being hidden and protected by your house.
A lady has no place for the council but your ability and prowess to economy and trade had been the foundation of Harrenhal. You have spent your years studying trade and made Harrenhal the center of trade with the foreign land on your own while most of your family members had gotten themselves in high positions within the court of the king. You always told yourself that it was your way of repaying your family for still giving you their name and trusting your words when you told them that your honor wasn’t soiled but you indeed killed men who tried to take it with brute force from you.
“I will be fine, brother. It’s been years and with the issues at court, I bet they won’t even remember me. It will be fine.” You squeezed his hand back as you smiled. Larys had been nothing but kind to you after what happened to your family. You two didn't talk much before because Larys was known to be very quiet and observant. But you guessed the accident strengthened your bond.
Larys signaled to the knight stationed by the door to introduce the two of you before entering. You flinched a little when the knight mentioned your title as the slayer bride of the dothraki. It’s been a while since you’ve heard that. No one in Harrenhal ever used that. Your father made sure not to remind you of the event that changed your life greatly and the reason why at your age you are still unwed.
With a shaky breath, you held your head high and walked proudly as you entered the great hall. Larys and you were invited to a party hosted by King Viserys. He claimed that this event is a celebration with his family while he is still well. The king has been suffering from a disease unknown even to the citadel. And maybe he wanted to have a one last feast with his family without hostility.
The place echoed with murmur and voices as you walked down the aisle. You swallowed the nervousness building at the pit of your stomach and continued walking with ease. You stopped in front of the king and bowed with practiced grace as you greeted him.
“Is it really you? You have grown such a fine lady. You were rather small the last time I saw you. Time sure flies fast when you’re getting old.” The King laughed with a bit of a cough. You gave him a small smile. He looks different than what you remembered. The rumors sure downplayed the disease the king was suffering from. As you greeted him this close, you can see that what he had is not some simple unknown disease. His skin looks decomposing as if something is slowly eating his flesh. Due to the years you haven’t seen him, you can’t even remember quite well what he originally looks like.
“You are far too kind, my king. The House Strong wishes you well and we’re grateful for extending your invitation to feast to our family.”
“Oh child! And still far too polite. Come on now! Sit down and let’s start the feast!”
You bowed one last time to King Viserys when you felt a shiver run down your spine. When you turned your head, you saw him. A man with long silver locks is staring straight right at you. He is wearing an eyepatch on his left eye. His one orb shares nothing of his intention nor interests. Despite the danger he was emitting, you can’t help but stare back at him.
“Sister.” You felt a tug on your arm and saw Larys on your side. You withdrew your eyes to the mysterious man as your brother led you both to your respective seats. But as he helped you with your chair, your eyes widened by what he whispered in your ear.
“Be warned, sister. The man you’re staring at is Prince Aemond. He doesn’t like people staring at him. He is known to be cold and quiet but rather ambitious. I advise you to stay out of his sight for your safety.” He squeezed your shoulders before sitting on his seat. You gave him a quick nod as you pretended to not notice the lilac gaze that is still pointed at your direction.
You’ve known Prince Aemond. Not much but enough that it reaches the dreadful walls of the castle. He was known to be the prince who exchanges his eye for the largest dragon, Vhagar.
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The days were colder than usual so you understood when Larys decided to leave the feast to rest his legs. His legs tend to hurt much worse as the cold seeps through his bones. You wanted to retire to your room as well but you know that it is a common courtesy to stay, at least until the feast ends. 
As you were drinking your wine and listening to the chatter of the drunk guests, you were surprised when the Ladies Baela and Rhaena stood beside your seat and called your attention. “We’re glad to finally meet you Lady Strong.” Baela said after she introduced herself. She seems excited to see you which comes off as a bit of a surprise. You’ve known your reputation and their reactions were something you don’t expect to see from them. “The same with me, my ladies.”
There was a pregnant pause when the siblings just stared at each other as if communicating within their heads. Until, Baela decided to speak and you were a bit taken aback by her question. “Is it true though? That you were a captive as a dothraki bride but were able to save yourself by killing warriors? -” “Pardon?” “Ah! We don’t mean to offend you, my lady. But we wanted to hear the story from you. Your brave story-” “My brave story?” “Was well-known throughout the kingdom with bards singing prai-” A bit overwhelmed was an understatement as Lady Baela threw questions at you. You look to Rhaena for help but the twinkling in her eyes tells you that she’s also excited for you to answer. This type of attention is something you were not used to. Throughout the years of being alone and purposely isolated by peers your age has created these huge gaps with socialization. Your ability in the art of trade might be extraordinary but unfortunately, you were not gifted with normal interactions. This was the reason why whenever you do your trade your father or Larys stands with you. “I don’t think it is rather nice to overwhelm a lady who hasn't gotten out for years with questions she mostly wants to avoid, dear cousins.” A smooth baritone voice spoke behind you. You looked up and saw that he was standing right behind your chair with hands on his back staring at you and then back to his cousins. You inhaled sharply with the way he stares. Somehow, on a closer look, it seems much more intense. You saw a frown quickly plastered on the ladies' foreheads when Prince Aemond scolded them. Even without knowing much about the stories outside the walls of Harrenhal, you knew that if you don’t step forward to dissipate the three, a fight will break out. “It is alright, my lord. I am just a bit tired due to the alcohol on my system and journey on my way here. I’d love to tell you my story. Maybe on the morrow? This feast will last for a week and we’ll have all the time to talk and share our stories.” The frown left their faces almost immediately when the two looked back at you.
“Really, my lady!? Then, we’ll see you on the morrow then.” Baela smiled widely as if you had given her an answer she was waiting for her whole life. But the frown came back to their faces when they heard the Prince's voice again. “Well, you heard the Lady Strong. Now go. Stop pestering the lady. My father and your parents were all waiting for you in a private dining chamber.” He said as he motioned to the direction of the door. The two ladies just stared at him angrily but quickly gave you a smile and a happy “goodbye” and “see you tomorrow then” before they disappeared on the nearby door.
"I do believe that you owe me a dance after I saved you from being pestered by my cousins. Hmm." He said it like it was a statement not a request or a command. You stopped yourself from rolling your eyes and just stood elegantly from your chair.
"I don't think it was a situation worth saving me for, my lord." You replied as you stood your ground not wanting to accept the hand he put out in front of you.
It started out as a slow murmur until it became a chatter. That's when you become hyper aware of where you were. You completely forgot about the people because everyone seems to be focused on the royal family. But since they moved to another chamber for privacy, all the focus was on you again especially since a prince seems to be asking you for a dance. 
With eyes wide, you looked around and confirmed your situation. Everyone is indeed staring at you and the prince. Your breath comes in short gasps as you look around and count all the eyes focused on you. 
You heard his voice before you felt him. He's calling your name to focus on him. Both his hands are grasping your cheeks when he moved your face closer to him and called your name much firmly this time. “Breathe, my lady. Follow me.” You followed his command and breathed in and out the same way he does. Following him had calmed your nerves and even your breathing. Eyes closed you continue breathing to fully take control of yourself. You completely forgot where you were but quickly realized what was happening when one lady gasped in shock. The moment you opened your eyes, you saw how close he was. His forehead is almost brushing yours. Hands immediately grabbing his, you yanked them away from your face. 
"I don't think that was appropriate, my lord. You shouldn't have grabbed the face of an unwed lady especially when you’re unwed as well!" You reprimanded him in a hush tone to not let the outsiders hear what you were saying. He just replied with a soft hmmm and a tilt of his head.
Again, Prince Aemond presented his hand while keeping the other to his back.
"I do think this time you owe me a dance." Without much choice, you accepted his hand and danced with him. This seems to stop the staring as the music starts to play and more wine was poured to the cups of the guests.
But your concern now is not the people, it is the lilac eye staring right in front of you. Somehow it looks darker. There is something swirling behind which you can't pinpoint. It stirs something within you which is akin to worry. You’d lie if you claim it wasn’t fear. 
During the dance, all he did was stare. The whole time it was uncomfortable and it made you regret why you didn’t just excuse yourself with Larys earlier. You could have avoided this and enjoyed the soft bed which you missed a lot while traveling on a carriage. You were removed from your reverie when you heard his voice asking you a question. “Would you let this one-eyed prince know the truth about your story? Is it true or was it just an exaggeration?” “I cannot completely tell what you meant my lord when I personally don’t know what songs bards had sung on my name and what stories you’ve heard from your nurses.” You’ve heard him say hmmm again before continuing. “They said you cut off their cocks and presented them to their Khal as proof that you were not some lady to whom they can kidnap for their wife's hunt that easy.” “Heavens! That was the story you’ve heard? If I may recall, it was six years ago. How come a young prince was let to hear such grotesque stories from wandering bards?” Annoyingly, you asked the prince for confirmation. The King and Queen will not let that happen, right? You frowned when you saw that his mouth curved up with obvious amusement. “Let's just say that this prince did go out at night to check on the kingdom on his own when he was young.” You can’t help but sigh at his straightforward answer. Of course, no matter what status they have, men will be men. The musicians plucked the last string of the song and you promptly removed your hand from his hold but instead of letting go, the prince grabbed your hand, rather too tight, and forced you to move forward and get closer to him again. He looked down and made sure your faces were almost inches away from each other. You released a quiet whimper and felt your whole body shivered from fear. 
"They weren't lying when they claimed that the only reason why the court ladies had been bad mouthing your name was because your beauty outstands them all. I’ve never seen a golden skin as dewy as yours. How your wild curly black hair matches your bright brown eyes. Outside these walls, your name was well-known differently from what I’ve heard. And it always fascinates me. How come a lady like yours was hidden. It’s obviously not the question of your honor. If that was the case, the best for your family was to sell you to an old lord who wanted another cunt to fuck. But no, they kept you and treated you rather fairly. Protected and well-taught on top of that. Tell me, my lady. What is your family hiding from the walls outside the dreadful Harrenhal?” He spoke with pronounced curiosity and interest. 
You swallowed and tried to fight him to retrieve your hand. But he is much too strong for you. There is no excuse for what you did but your head is telling you to free yourself rather than care that a prince is holding you.So what you did is balled your hands and made sure your fingernails punctured his skin. His eyes wandered to the trickle of blood that came off from his wounds made by your fingernails. You used that moment to free yourself from his grip almost tumbling backwards in the process. From his wounds, he stared right up at you. 
“Be careful, my lady. As I am known as the prince who claims those he wasn't supposed to have.”
He used his thumb to gather the blood which came out of his skin and slowly wiped it on your face. As if nothing happened, he bid you farewell and excuse himself for another dinner he must be having.
You stilled and never in your life had fear gripped you this bad. When you killed the dothrakis, you were fueled with anger and hatred as you stabbed them to earn your freedom back. Maybe hiding inside the Harrenhal made you much more vulnerable than safe. He was just a young prince with no experience with real war but you knew it better than anyone. A man changes when they finally set their eyes to the ones they wanted to conquer the most. And for the one-eyed Prince Aemond, it is you. It is a wonder how come he wants you. But you know you put yourself in danger tonight.
You should have listened to your brother's warning. But no one will entirely blame it on you when all you did was be polite and entertain him for a bit. Who would have thought that by doing so, you were already signing up your fate to him. If your brother asked you again if you were really sure, you would probably say no and agree right away to go back to Harrenhal. You can’t help but foresee the disaster coming your way after years of trying to avoid one. What exactly have you done?
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ravenraverequests · 3 months
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hi! my name is raven <3
welcome to my blog!
all are welcome!
I write mainly for rick grimes & negan smith!
I do x readers (smut, suggestive, and non-smutty). i do gender neutral readers, but love to do transmasc readers as well! ever had a really juicy good x reader idea but struggle with writing? feel free to send me a request with as many details as you want! i’ll try my best to get it out quick if approved.
DO NOT REPOST MY WORK OR CLAIM AS OWN
general rules:
-no “dead dove” material. i will do very dark themes but not graphic rape or rape between reader and main.
-i do most kinks as long as everything is safe, sane, and consensual and all participants are willing. if you aren’t sure if I’ll write a kink, just message me! there is no judgment here as long as it is not immoral.
-i add tw warnings if necessary, but if you want any specific content warning just ask and it will be there!
-proshippers dni
-bigotry or harassment of ANY kind will not be accepted on this blog. you WILL be blocked and reported. all readers of any ethnicity, religion, sexualities, and gender are welcome and accepted on my blog!
-please be patient with me. some works may come out faster while others may take more time. writers block and personal life and all that can interfere. just be patient with me and i will make your request the best i can!
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lily-orchard · 3 months
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welp I’ve caught your sisters attention and I’ve apparently got my own tags now, yay..
idk how tf I got on your sisters radar, nor do I understand what she’s talking about in particular with her post. (I post i only saw bc an anon sent me an archive link btw, I’ve had her blocked for months)
https://web.archive.org/web/20240122022451/https://www.tumblr.com/pleasetiemyshoe/%20740178068838203392/oh-someone-wants-attention
I’ve never come after sunny, yeah we used to interact but that was a while ago, unfollowed him before you and him fell out. (Not for any particular reason, i just stopped enjoying his content) To the best of my knowledge I've never even talked about sunny after we stopped interacting and I don’t remember saying anything bad about him ever?
I have Courtney blocked, i definitely didn’t want her attention as she implied. Or the attention of any of the gossip blogs for that matter bc, to the best of my knowledge, I have them all blocked.
The “honey” and “sweet lamb” shit, along with her graphically saying I’m a waste of my fathers orgasm, makes me super fucking uncomfortable. on top of sounding really condescending she also sounds like my ex who raped me. Bc he was also a condescending asswipe and talked like a “poorly written high school bully” (to use a previous anons words)
she claims I think rape is “just a spat” even tho I am open on my blog about being a multiple time rape survivor (including but not limited to me being raped last year by my ex) and also I’ve never said that “rape is just a spat”, like WTF obviously that’s not what rape is. Idk how tf she came to the conclusion that I thought it was.
she also said I’m supporting two rapists? I’m guessing one of the ppl she’s referring to is you (bc she claims you raped her in multiple posts) but who tf is the second one?? I’m so confused.
and of corse the post has no screenshots of me saying or doing any of these things, she just spat out my url so others could see. So I have nothing to go off of here like- genuinely idk what I did to piss her off other then not publicly hate you.
idk why I’m coming to you about this but I genuinely could use some kinda support here bc she’s honestly freaking me out. My anxiety disorder can’t take this shit. I’ve been harassed before online, I was groomed as a kid and teen and was doxxed as a teen and more, but never have I ever got the attention of someone as obsessed as her before, so I’m terrified of what she might try to pull. The way she talks reminds me of my ex and that’s definitely not helping the panicking at all. I’ve seen how unhinged she behaves when it comes to you and I’m honestly scared rn of wtf this woman is gonna do. I have no idea what she’s talking about and I genuinely don’t know what I did to catch her attention. I think I’m just trying to vent out my panic attack so sorry if this is annoying to you but I honestly don’t know what to do bc I already have your gossip blogs blocked and that didn’t help so I’m kinda up shits creek atm. Like- WTF DID I DO TO GET HER ATTENTION? I’m confused. I like your posts sometimes and occasionally comment under them? Was that all it took?? Jfc I’m so confused. Idk what to do, any advice? Kind words? Idfk I’m just panicking I’m sorry I’m a bother I know this ask is fucking long but I’m super freaking out here and don’t know what to do or who else to turn to
Courtney is nothing. She can't hurt you outside of sending a mob to harass you. She's not a survivor of anything she claims to be a survivor of, she's a perpetrator of them.
The fact that you've gotten Courtney this tilted isn't even surprising because she's ALWAYS tilted.
The lucky thing is that she's also a coward. She's threatening my life for months and hasn't made good on any of them.
Block her, block anyone she sends your way, and just put her out of your mind.
You're gonna be okay, Golden. You're a lovely person who I've always liked seeing in my notifications.
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Only the Strong Survive Chapter 2
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Series Summary: Lexie Weston is in a terrible, abusive marriage. In her mind and soul, she feels like she has no way out that won't result in her death. But something changes in her life to make her take the risk. Can she rely on Sheriff Beau Arlen to protect her like he said he would, or will this risk lead to ruin?
Pairings: Beau Arlen x Y/N (eventual)
Warnings/Explicit 18+: Smut, Angst, Fluff throughout. A pretty slow burn, TW: Abusive marriage, Domestic abuse will be talked about throughout. Chapter warnings will be more specific
Word Count: 2,768
Chapter Summary: Lexie learns news that makes it imperative that she call the Sheriff and finally seek safety.
Chapter Warnings: TW: Domestic abuse mentioned, fear and anxiety due to abuse talked about throughout the chapter. Angst, sadness, abusive and demeaning language and behavior. Also Beau being the best and sweetest. That's definitely a warning!
A/N: So this will be my first Beau series. I already have 8,000 series on the go, so I thought, of course, that I had to make 8001. 😄 But this idea's been sitting in my head for a while so here it is. 😁 I hope you enjoy it. Please let me know if you do. Feedback is EVERYTHING to a writer, and I'd sure love to read what you thought.
Hope you enjoy Ch. 2!
The beautiful divider at the bottom was created by @firefly-graphics
Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag Lists
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Breathe, you idiot, breathe!
Lexi Weston took her own good advice, and sucked in a deep breath. And then another...
...and another...
...until she lost the dizzy feeling that had begun when she looked at the stick in her hands.
The little pink plus sign had been revealed after a 3 minute wait, tearing away the last of the denial she'd been living in for the past three days. Three days ago, she’d realized she was late, and the only other time she’d been late was two years ago - the last time the stick had turned pink.
When she realized she was late again, the fear had set in, and she’d spent three days denying it, telling herself it was just because she was getting older; she was thirty six, after all, it wouldn’t be impossible for her periods to start getting a bit irregular as she aged. So, she’d pushed the fear out of the way, sure that any day now, her period would start and she could breathe a sigh of relief.
But as the days wore on and there was no sign of her period, she began to do the math and realized that the timing lined up perfectly. It exactly matched the only time in the last six or seven months that Simon had come home, late as always, but for once, not too drunk to fumble at her in the dark, climbing on top of her, thrusting pathetically and coming in record time. Not that she ever complained about his speed. The faster he was done, the better.
Staring at the stick now, she could no longer deny that his drunken orgasm that night had resulted in a baby. She clutched the stick tightly, not sure what her next move should be. 
Burn the stick, fool! Don’t let him see it! Her mind chanted at her.
The thought jolted her body into action and she ran to the woodstove in the kitchen. It burned all the time now, since the electricity had been cut off. Simon claimed he’d done it on purpose because he didn’t want to give his money away to government and corporate people who just wanted to control them. But Lexi knew he just never paid the bill.
So, the woodstove was how she cooked them dinner, and all they had to heat up the tiny cabin. She started to stoke the fire, ready to toss in the evidence, but then she paused.
Right now Simon was outside, ostensibly fishing for their dinner in the nearby stream, but she knew he was just drinking and would very likely come home with nothing. Her fear was that burning plastic often gave off a strange smell, and she didn’t want to take the risk of him coming in just as she was burning it, asking about the smell.
So, instead, she ran quickly to their tiny bedroom in the small, three room cabin where they lived. Her husband had built the thing himself, or so he’d told her. But she highly suspected that “building it himself” meant he and his buddies got drunk and played with power tools.
The cabin wasn’t insulated at all and quite often the wind whistled in through the chinks in the walls. The walls also weren’t straight and two of the “windows” were just cut out holes with tarps covering them. The floor was just sheets of plywood that Simon constantly said he’d finish, but never did.
Before they were married in Missouri, he’d told her that his parents had left him a plot of land in Montana and that he’d built a “homey and beautiful” cabin on it. So when they’d come to live here, leaving behind her few friends and what little family she had left, she’d been expecting to start a whole new, exciting life with her industrious husband. He'd told her he was a carpenter and made a decent living in the trade.
That had been one of his first lies. A lie which she’d begun to suspect when she saw the cabin for the first time; she’d been shocked at the shabby, unfinished appearance of her new home.  That was back, early in their relationship, when he still had the power to shock her, but nowadays nothing he did surprised her. Every harsh word, every lie, every bruising smack with the back of his hand, was expected.
She also knew just what would happen if she told him she was pregnant - exactly what had happened last time, which was why she couldn’t tell him. And why she needed to hide the pregnancy test away until she figured out what to do.
There was a small square of plywood in the corner of their bedroom floor, separated from the rest, a piece that had obviously been shoved in place to fill a hole, but it had never been nailed down, so Lexi could lift it up and hide things inside. 
What she chose to hide was an old shoe box with keepsakes she’d collected, things she couldn’t bear to toss into the woodstove, but that she also never wanted Simon to find.
These keepsakes included a ticket stub from a movie she’d snuck into town to see one weekend when Simon went away fishing with his buddies; a pressed flower she’d bought herself one time at the grocery store; a sonogram, and now a white stick with a pink plus sign.
As she set the stick inside she noticed the white business card with black lettering that she’d stuck inside the box about six weeks ago, and as though a puzzle piece suddenly slid into place, she knew exactly what to do.
But she didn’t know if she could actually go through with it. The idea of doing it made her heart beat out of her chest and made her feel like she was going to be sick.
Looking at the card, the Sheriff’s incredibly handsome face swam into her mind’s eye once again, as it had quite often since the day he’d offered her his help. This time though, his deep voice and the words he’d used to try and persuade her, came too.
“I’ll keep you safe, Lexi, I swear.”
Could he really? Was it possible?
It didn’t feel like it was. Simon had told her repeatedly that if she ever tried to leave him, he’d kill her and she knew it wasn’t hyperbole, he wasn’t exaggerating. If she stood up, he’d knock her back down, if she wounded his pride and made him look like a fool by walking out on him, he’d end her.
But this wasn’t just about her anymore. She looked down at the Sheriff’s card, and put her hand over her still flat, somewhat emaciated stomach. She couldn’t let him do it again.
***
Her chance to call the Sheriff came much sooner than she’d expected. Just two days later, Simon was up early, which was incredibly rare and usually meant he’d found a cash job for the day.
As she set his coffee in front of him, Lexi felt her stomach clench in anticipation.
“So, do you have a job this morning?” she asked.
Simon barely looked up from his phone. “No, I’m awake at seven in the morning for my fucking health.”
She nodded. “What’s the job?”
That made him look at her finally, disgust radiating from him. “Why are you fucking nagging at me?”
“Sorry.” Lexi said quickly. “I didn’t mean to nag. I was just curious.”
Frowning, Simon went back to scrolling his phone. “Yeah, well you know what curiosity did to the cat, so save your questions.”
Lexi was quiet another ten minutes, only speaking again as Simon stood to get his coat. “Are you working with Dixon?”
“Yep” was his only response.
“So, when do you think you’ll be home?”
He turned back to her and yanked her forward with a death grip on her upper arm. “Why are you asking me all these questions?” He was immediately suspicious, but Lexi had known that would be his likely reaction, so she was prepared.
“I’m sorry, I was just trying to surprise you. I wanted to make some chicken and dumplings for you this evening, I know it's your favorite and you're up so early and working so hard for us, so I wanted to do something nice for you. And I was was just wondering what time to start it."
Simon’s frown eased and he let go of her arm. “Well, I never know when I’m working with Dixon do I? Cause I don’t know the job till I get there. So, I can’t very well tell you what time I’m off, when I don’t know yet myself. Can I?”
Lexi just shook her head.
He gave her a patronizing smile and a pat on the cheek. “We know you aren’t what they’d call bright, but for god’s sake, use a little common sense. Save me answering these stupid fucking questions and making me late.”
With that he sailed out the door, and a few minutes later she heard his truck start up and pull out of the gravel drive. She waited a full thirty minutes to make sure he wasn’t gonna circle back to grab something he forgot, before running to the box and pulling out the Sheriff’s card.
She sat on her knees on the floor in the corner for another twenty minutes, knowing that if she did this there would be no going back. Simon checked her little burner phone every night, and he knew exactly how many minutes she had left on her prepaid phone card, and if there were minutes unaccounted for, he’d demand an explanation. She’d learned the hard way to ask for permission before making calls.
She was beyond terrified, but she knew she had to try. She couldn’t let him do it again.
***
"Okay, so we're agreed then, it's Legends of the Fall  tonight?" Jenny asked, as Beau ambled back into his office, apparently having decided with Cassie, what their movie was going to be for this Friday night.
"Uh, excuse me, you guys have picked the movie the last two times by ganging up and ‘out-voting’ me, which means that the last two weeks I’ve had to sit through two Brad Pitt movies, I am NOT sitting through a third!”
Jenny scoffed. “The movies were Fight Club and Snatch, and you loved both of them, don’t deny it.”
Beau opened his mouth to do just that, but then crossed his arms over his chest, legs in a wide stance. “Fine, those ones were….good.” Catching the girls’ expressions, he conceded. “Okay! They were great. But, I know Legends of the Fall is some kind of epic, frilly lace, historical romance movie.”
Cassie chuckled. “Hey, the whole thing is set in Montana, it’s practically required viewing for folks around here!”
Jenny snorted. “Yeah, even though a bunch of it was filmed in Canada.”
Cassie continued, attempting to cajole Beau into capitulation. “Seriously though, it’s got war and cowboys, and pretty ladies.” She patted him on the arm as she grabbed up her jacket to go. “Boys can like it too.”
Beau shot her an unimpressed look as his phone buzzed on his desk. He held up a finger as he picked it up. “This conversation isn’t over.”
He pressed the green answer button. “Arlen.”
There was no answer on the other end, only a buzzing, static noise with the occasional soft breath.
“Hello?” He tried again, but the line went almost immediately dead.
He pulled the phone away to see if it gave a number, but it was an unknown caller. He frowned and shrugged. Probably a wrong number.
He was about to start back in on the movie choice, when the phone buzzed again. He looked at the caller ID this time, but it was once again an unknown caller.
He answered the phone and gave his full name and title this time, thinking that maybe his brusque way of answering the last time had confused the caller.
“Hello, this is Sheriff Beau Arlen. What can I do for you?”
But again there was only silence, except the buzzing of a bad connection, and soft breathing, breathing that sounded more rapid this time, and a bit louder.
“Hello? Who’s calling?” He asked, but there was no response. By this time, both Cassie and Jenny were watching him on the phone, with interest.
Beau pulled the phone away from his ear again, to make sure there was still a connection, but the call had not dropped.
“Hello?” He said again, a bit louder.  This time, he heard a faint, tinny voice, but he’d missed what they said.
“I’m sorry, say again?”
“Help.”
That one word, when he finally heard it, made his heart leap. It was so small, but so very desperate and full of terror.
“Please, help.”
He stood up straight, completely focused. “Okay, I can help you. Who is this?” As he asked the question, though, something told him he already knew who it was.
“Le-Lexi Weston.”
He closed his eyes, relieved that she’d finally reached out, but then immediately scared for her. “Okay, Lexi, of course I’ll help you.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cassie and Jenny start calling in the officers and deputies that were in the station. They both knew how much he’d worried about Lexi Weston over the last six weeks since he’d met her, so they knew if she was calling now, they were likely to need all hands on deck.
“What do you need, Lexi? Are you hurt?” He asked, afraid to hear the answer.
“No. No, I’m…I’m okay.”
Her voice was so quiet. “Is he there, darlin’? Can he hear you?”
“No, he’s gone. But I don’t know for how long. He’s working with his friend, and sometimes they’re gone a few hours and sometimes it’s not even a whole hour. And he…he left almost an hour ago now. So, please come quickly.”
Beau was nodding and gave a signal for everyone to move out. Going with him were, the girls, Poppernak, and four other deputies. He hoped it would be enough to get Lexi safely out of the house.
“You at home now, Lexi?” He confirmed.
“Yes. Do you know our address?”
He nodded. “Yep, got it from the file.”
He left out the fact that he’d also tried to casually drive by the place a couple times. What he was looking for he didn’t know. The house was set far enough back from the road that he hadn’t been able to really see anything. But he’d just been very worried about the terrified woman he’d met so briefly, and he was hoping for some kind of reassurance that she was still alright.
He hadn’t received any such reassurance from his two stealthy drive-bys.
But now they were on the way to get her free of that asshole she was married to.
“Okay,” Lexi said now, “Just be careful when you come. He might be....I mean, if he's back by then…he’s…he’s got guns.”
Beau chuckled darkly as he jumped in his big red truck and started it up with a roar from the engine. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ve got guns too. And we’re coming right now.”
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