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fandomobbsessedb · 2 months

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Alastor x F!Overlord!Reader

AN: this is the result of the first poll I posted, Alastor won so here we are!

I’ve kinda broken this into two bits in this one shot, there’s a warning farther down if you want to keep within the ideas of “headcannon” but farther below I have the start of a story, I got a bit carried away and am too far gone to delete it.

⚠️Warnings: mentions of blood, death, weapons, smoking, maybe 1 instance of cannibalism ( but its more in the sense of revenge rather than a canabalistic reader) (idk man it’s hell if your triggered don’t read 😭) this is really long already so I might just break it up or continue it to make a part 2. I have a LOOOOOOT of references in here to so many things, if you guys can pick up on them leave a comment and I’ll tag list you in my next fic if you want! Or don’t I honestly couldn’t care less it’s just for fun :p

Reader is referred to with afab terms.

Pt2-

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• In your life you tried to stay on “the right” path. Your parents raised you right, you tried your hardest to be nice, and where always on your best behavior, but after getting the short end of the stick for too long you kinda… loose it.

• You ended up in hell after a night out partying with some of your most valued clients, when you went to drive yourself home the heel of your stiletto got stuck under the gas pedal, as you tried to pull it out you took your eyes off the road and 💥 BAM 💥 you where hit by a large grocer truck.

•Opening your eyes to a red wasteland, the bright flash of lights and the smell of brimstone flood your senses. Looking down to try and gather your bearings you notice your whole body wasn’t (skn/tn) anymore… it was marble grey?

“Where… where am I?” I mumbled under my breath, trying to gather my surroundings, a bright flashing catches my eyes, a gigantic neon sign in the sky gives me my anwser…

“Welcome to Hell!!!”

“Hell…. I’M DEAD?!!!!” I groaned out through barred teeth and stood to my feet, looking around I saw definite signs, this was Hell alright. A blood red sky, fires everywhere, little sinners running around stabbing and shooting one another.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, ALL MY WORK, MY SHOPPING EMPIRE, MY CLOSET, MY AWARDS, MY EVERYTHING, RAAAAAAHHH!!!” In my anger I grabbed the nearest sinner and threw them to the ground, putting my foot between their shoulder blades and grabbing their arms.

“You’re gonna tell me right now, what the hell is going on, WHY AM I DEAD AND HERE-” I shouted in their ear, seeing blood come out… oh shit I probably burst their ear drum… oh well, I’ve done that plenty of times to my assistants.

“D-d-do you mean, like in hell, or or just this area?” They questioned nervously. To be fair they were a scrawny little thing…

“What in the-“ I paused to look around, then referred back to this little shit “actually HELL are you talking about?”

“W-w-well, you must, *gulp* you must be new here, huh?” It asked with a weary smile and a weak little laugh, probably trying to ease the tension. “Well, down… down here, we uh, we have overlords who- who rule certain areas, we’re in Ms.Leefolt’s t-t-t-territory right now, I mean, our king Lucifer, Lucifer and Lilith Morningstar rule all of hell…”

“Well, that certainly is… intresting.” I smirk and stand up, releasing his arms but not letting my foot off his back. “So these, overlords… are they appointed by your king, or born into or something?” I question with a sharp red nail in between my teeth, thinking…

“No, no ma’am just, just anyone who’s ballsy enough to, to, take over enough territory and have enough demons- sell them their souls in exchange for something. Umm- if it’s not too much of a bother, could you let me go… I- I can feel my ribs crushing under me…” it started wheezing out and trying to get a hand under its chest to place a barrier between their chest and the ground.

“Hm, well if that’s all true, I can’t let some little thing like you going around gossiping about me.” I growled looking down at this freak… pressing my heel into his spine harder.

“No! No please, I won’t say a thing I promise!! Just let me go, please… pleas-“

SPLAT-

“Whoops, my bad, I slipped.” I reasoned, pulling my now bloody leg out of his torso.

“Ohh, eeeeeew eweweweweweweeew, I’ve got bits of his, ugh, lung on my heels.” Flicking away the bits of organ from my shoes, I take a breath and another look around but this time in a planning sense. Overlords huh, well, I’ll just have to see how much this ‘miss leefolt’ likes the taste of arsenic, I wonder when the last time she had a homemade pie was….

• So of course to establish some dominance in my new living arrangement, I gutted that bitch from the inside out. I took her territory, her power, her souls, even her manor. When I went to her office to kill her I found the deed to her house and all the contracts of sinners who gave her their souls in a pretty shittily hidden safe.

• I mean, I had to work so hard to build my life up just for a stupid grocer to end it all, so this is fine… right?

• The years go by and the world changes, you became one of the most powerful and influential overlords in hell, re-establishing your power once held on earth to a business in hell. Rosie and Velvet quickly becoming your closest friends, Velvet in a more business sense and Rosie being your go to gossip gal. Both of you having elegant and refined tastes. You and Husk became friends over talking shit in a casino one night, and remained friends after his downfall. He talks to you about this, radio demon, from time to time but you haven’t heard much of him

Little do you know he knows almost everything about you~

• Your walking around Cannibal Town one day waiting for Rosie to finish a meeting, watching children run around and little carts selling all kinds of body related snacks.

I lost a bit of my sense of surrounding and almost tripped on a kid running around with his friend throwing a head back and fourth.

"Jerermy! Stop playing with your lunch and apologize to that nice lady you almost ran into."

"Sorry miss, I didn't mean too." He said looking down at the head ashamedly, then offering me a piece of the cheek. "Would you like some of this face? It's really good." He looked up at me with an excited look. "Oh thank you, but I'm waiting for lunch with my friend, I'll go to the butcher and get some though, it looks really good." I smiled my pointy teeth at him, patted his head and motioned him back to his mother, she waved to me and I nodded my head back, thinking it was time for Rosie to be done by now.

"My my, with your reputation of anger issues I would assume you would tear that poor child into bits upon realization." A staticky voice spoke behind me, tilting my head back but not my body as I don't know who it is. I look him up and down, his outfit and cane/staff thingy give off quite the powerful impression. "My, mhm, reputation?" I pester raising my eyebrow.

"Ah-hahahaha, My name's Alastor, its quite a pleasure to finally meet you in person." He introduced reaching for the back of my hand to place a kiss. Him saying his name reminded me, I too finally recognized the name. "Oh, Rosie has told me much about you." The radio demon, his names been brought up many times around cannibal town since he frequented their shops and small town locals.

"Oh yes, Rosie is one of my dearest friends" He replied linking our elbows and started walking towards the shop. "Mine as well, she is quite the darling, so let me ask you now, where you just standing there when I got to the park, or where you going to follow me in silence since I left the emporium~" He didn't stutter in his step but my revelation made the air feel a bit more, weary on his side. Reaching into my hand purse I grabbed my lipstick and hand mirror and paused my walk to apply a touch more. Looking just past my lips in the reflection I saw his eyes in the back corner snap to my down, then back up to my eyes with a tight smile. "Well, are you coming? I know Rosie hates to be kept waiting." I snapped it shut and outreached my elbow waiting for him to link his so that we could start the traverse back to Rosie's.

• After our little group luncheon with Rosie, Alastor and you didn't verbally indicate that you were closer in any sense. But physically you swayed like two tree's. Brushing branches back and fourth with the breeze, restless and apart yet labeled as "together"

• You started doing weekly business deals, him acquiring land and souls for you, and all he asked in returns is he uses that land and those souls as he pleases. Which honestly isn't a lot. When he pulls people or their shadows to come help at the hotel- their mostly your people but he always sends them back to whence they came.

• He likes to pretend he doesn't necessarily care for being around you, however he's always looking for time you two can be together, or even thinking of each other. On his radio show he'll mention new shopping, eating, entertainment locations on your turf. He knows you listen when your able to. Sometimes he uses his power to let his station be the only one playing where ever you are. In the car, in a shopping store, you could be sitting in the bathroom and it would get to the point where you can hear it from the vents. Making you roll your eyes and finish your business so you could get to your office to listen to the radio.

• Truth be told... you where falling to his whims as well. Alastor didn't necessarily have "territory" but many places in one area he had influence in and quite often frequented. When you had rips or damage to your very expensive very delicacy clothing you would walk with him to the seamstress, and afterwards you would often get tea or lunch together. Maybe he knows a good diner or two and ya’ll will sit there and eat, then get a milkshake (mostly bc you wanted one, he just indulges to make you happy though he doesn’t care for the cold sweet taste) and drink it through two straws, awwwwwwwwwwwwe!!

• When either of you knew of prestigious events happening around you invite the other to be your plus one. You go shop together to find outfits for the occasion. You started attending overlord meetings together, with yourself sat on the opposite side of Rosie, sending each other glances and touches under the table whenever Rosie wasn't looking or walked away for a brief moment. At the events you stay close together and often stand away from the crowd, whispering and gossiping together, allowing yourself a to drink silly, little do you know how well he can hold his liquor and often will be the one making sure YOU get home. Sometimes you wake up still dressed, like the gentleman he is, and sometimes you’ll wake up in some red pajama set…. Like the gentleman he is, he’s not gonna let you sleep in an uncomfortable outfit. But he’s respectful about it.

• He often send subliminal messages through your radio to help you fall asleep, to push you to coming to see him, to maybe just stay in your town if he knew something really bad was going on outside. His favorite to do is when your falling asleep he’ll play the calmest songs from his time to comfort you as you drift off.

• When he officially asked to court you he compared you to the beautiful crimson of the sky, saying your cheeks where more bright and delightful to gaze at then the morning sky, when it was particularly bright. All kinds of poetic gestures, sending crows to your windows, sending your gifts of bodies with knives in them, and the knives had small notes left for you on some quote from a book you like. Now how he knows those are your favorite books are beyond you…. you don’t talk about your books much but, maybe he’s seen you reading it at some random point in time? Who knows, not you.

• He’s all in all not a bad partner, of course when you want to go out he usually goes along with what you want to do but if there’s something he refuses to do, his claws are sinking into your arms to keep you from dragging him to do it.

• His smile is genuine around you and you adore when he lets you pet his ears~ he’s not that intimate early on in the relationship but when your just sitting on a couch or watching the sun set from somewhere and you just reach over and pet his ears, he is putty in your hands, physically he keeps his compose fairly well but inside he’s willing to do anything to keep you touching his ears, telling himself he would sell YOU his soul if it meant you wouldn’t stop, petting his ears and helping him groom his antlers, don’t even get me started on the tail… oh wait he’s already got something going on with that… well darn… hopefully you will keep accepting his caring actions rather than push them away.

——-STOP reading here if you don’t want to get into the more “story line” of this idea, if you want more of a story KEEP READING——-

• One night some sinner had gotten into your liquor stash and drank himself ditzy, you chased him into an ally way, looking to end his fucking life. Most of those where gifts from clients that most likely had aphrodisiacs and at the time where trying to get down your pants, but he drank from one of the few special bottles Alastor had gifted you and you went ballistic. You ended up catching him and killing him, and taking a tip from Rosie and ripped some of his limbs off, letting yourself indulge in the taste of warm, liquor filled blood. When you came too you realized you didn't know where you had chased him. Now covered in blood, liquor, rain, mud and whatever mess you stepped in on your way over. Seeing the iluminating lights of the sign for the Hazbin Hotel, your only thought was to try and get to Alastor.

*knock knock knock*

*creeeeeeeeeeeeeeek*

"Oh! Oh my gosh, hi! Come in Come in. " An ecstatic girl ushered you inside, making a towel appear seemingly out of nowhere and helping you dry off. "I'm Charlie, whats your name?"

"Oh, how rude of me" I respond trying to shake off my chills, my nose starts to get a bit runny. "Uhm I'm Y/N, I don't mean to sound intrusive- uh is Alastor here?" I ask hesitantly, not wanting to just barge in but after the night I've had I wasn't in too much of a mood for pleasantries.

"Oh yes! Here, why don't you sit at the bar, have some tea or water or something and I'll run up to his radio tower." She sat me down at a bar stool and walked away. The bartender was turned around already whipping me up something.

"So he's got you wrapped up here huh?" I inquired with a smirk, resting my hands under my chin and trying to keep a little composure. His wings ruffled a little bit before he reached for my favorite hell made brand of brandy, my cotten candy brandy, I'm not one for sweets but I love the zing it gives you. The kind where you loose your vision for a good 7 seconds.

"You haven't usually been one to be a stranger, what gives?" Husk asked turning around handing me my drink and a bowl of pretzels.

"Well when I saw you weren't at your usual gambling tables I didn't think to question it, thought you where maybe getting more chips... ooooor hooking up in the chip room.... ooooor selling even MORE of your soul, if that's even possible, maybe like your wings or your feathers or, like your body as a human shield in the next extermination, never thought you'd be here slinging drinks." I shrugged swirling my drinks around the glass before taking a sip.

Before he could respond he took a bit of a step back and growled really low and deep in his throat.

"Ah yes well he owed me a favor and since I took an investment in this hotel I needed a little work on it done." Alastor came up behind me with a warm towel wrapping it around my shoulders as the one Charlie gave me was wrapped around my waist keeping my legs warm... unfortunatly the sinner got caught at a bad time, I was in the middle of 'me time' before bed and was in my good silk nighty. Glad I walked to my office with my fuzzy robe and ballet slippers. I feel really warm and fuzzy, my heads all….. comfy now… is that static coming from Alast-

"Oh deerest your all wet, would you like to come up and I can help you clean up." He asked you shaking the towel on your shoulders helping you sit up. "Oh yes please" you responded looking at him with sad tired eyes.

-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-

I took a sip of the warm tea Alastor had made me and laid back in the bath, taking it all in. I WAS just planning a quiet evening in at home, maybe snack on some treats I got in the Gluttony ring, watch some hells soap operas. Now I’m here, in my beau’s bathroom, relaxing… maybe I can convince him to let me up to his radio tower to listen to his late night show live, oh that would be fun. I wonder what it looks like up there? I’ve only ever seen his actual town house… a little ways away from town-

*CRASH *

“What the fuck?!” I sat up so fast I almost slipped, sitting on my butt… in the tub…. Shit did he spike my tea?

“Alastor? Is everything okay?” I asked loudly. Standing up carefully keeping three points of contact with the tub and the floor. I reached for a different robe he had given me, a soft red fluffy one, with (what I hope is faux ) fur along the collar and wrists.

Walking towards the bathroom door very carefully I cautiously reached for the shiny silver handle. Telling myself it’s okay but feeling a sense of dread in the pit of my stomach, and the handle was the top of the pit…

“Alastor?” I called out again, once more not getting an answer, bringing my hands to my mouth when I heard a large thump out there, trying to keeping my composure… oh what the hell they know I’m here already. I went to turn the handle what the door got pushed in, had I been able to see what happened I would’ve seen Alastor in his demonic form and it probably would’ve scared the actual shit outta me… but NOPE

I went to open the door when it got pushed open and a bright blue flash covered all of my vision and made me feel… kinda tried… but I’m awake, almost like I’m not in my body… it’s… really hard……. To keep my….. keep my eyes …………………………….………open…….

• You collapsed to the floor slowly breathing, in a trance, feeling some sharper claws pick you up bridal style, if you weren’t so dazed out you would see Alastor frozen in time… like a paused TV… unable to get to you, or subdue your captor. You still had enough conscience to hear a muffled voice talking to a phone~

“Yeah we got her… foil chains worke—“

“Get her ba-“

“…. Longer you take the quicker……….. flasher wears-“

• Last thing you could remember hearing before completing falling out was a radio scramble in your brain, the sound going from a hollow scraggly to a tight scraggle- like turning the tv in between stations………

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

AN: WELLLLL WHAT DID YA THINK???? Did you skip to down here or did you read the WHOLE thing. I really hope ya’ll like this, I’m so excited to make part 2, and maybe 3 or 4 depending on how far this goes.

Thank you to anyone who reads this and interacts in any way shape or form!!! Even if it’s just reading :) HOPE YOU HAVE A GOOD DAY AND REMEMBER

REALITY IS AN ILLUSION, THE UNIVERSE IS A HOLOGRAM BUY GOLD BYYYYYYEEEEEE

#headcannons #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel rosie #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel angst #hazbin hotel oneshots #short story #part 2?

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jpegjade · 7 months

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Wedding Vibes (Spencer Fluff)

Synopsis:

reader is a wedding photographer and spencer steps in the place of her assistant photographer for the day when her assistant gets sick. spencer gets wedding fever.

Tag list:

idek but if anyone wants to join, the list is open for future fics

Trigger warnings:

none, unless you are allergic to love and cuteness

Gender:

idk if i mentioned it.

Story Below the cut!

“You’re going to be okay, right?” You asked your assistant photographer over the phone.

“Yeah! It’s just a little walking pneumonia.” They said, chuckling.

The chuckle turned into a cough and that did nothing to make you feel better about the situation. In fact, it made your nerves worse because you were thinking about the upcoming weddings you booked together.

“Hey, y/n?” Spencer walks through the front door, carrying a handful of groceries along his arms.

“Yeah, okay. Sure. Just get better, okay?” You said, getting off the phone.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were on the phone.” Spencer said, gingerly walking through the apartment.

Stepping around your gear, you watched as spencer moved through the apartment like an angel who could do no wrong. Because in your mind, he could do no wrong.

“It’s okay. I was just getting off the phone with Josh anyway.” You said, slipping the phone in your back pocket.

“You’re about to leave and meet him at the wedding, right?” Spencer said as he moved around the kitchen.

Spencer put away the milk in the fridge, something you forgot to pick up when you went to the store to grab batteries that morning. You were pacing in the living room, trying to make sure you had everything packed for the 4th time.

“Well… I’m supposed to, yes, but I might have to pick up my sister because I need a second shooter for today.” You sighed.

“What happened to that guy?” Spencer said, closing the cabinet door as he put away a few dishes you washed and left to dry.

“Josh.” You chuckle, knowing Spencer was always a little bit jealous of him. You smiled to yourself and sat on the couch.

Nothing ever happened between you and Josh. He was a guy you went to high school with and then reconnected and started photographing weddings together for the past year. It was easy to shoot with him because it wasn’t like having to watch over someone to make sure they’re doing their job right.

“Yes, what happened to him?” Spencer asked, walking over to where you were putting away your cameras on the couch.

“Walking pneumonia.” You sighed, pausing to look at him.

“I knew his cough was a little bit funny.” Spencer smiled to himself about being right but tried not to show it because Josh was still your friend.

“I’m out of a second photographer for today.” You said, groaning.

“Can I help?” Spencer said, pulling you into him for a moment.

He knew when you were stressed, you needed him to ground you so you didn’t lose all of your marbles at once. A few at a time? Sure. But he was there to make it as few as possible.

“Unless you know your way around a camera, no.” You sighed.

It took a moment for it to click in your brain before you shout up, standing up.

“Spencer, you dummy, I love you.” You said, watching his eyes scan your face in understanding.

“I didn’t say anything.” Spencer remarked.

You finished packing with a smile on your face. You figured it out and it wasn’t a bad idea. That is… If he was up for it.

“You’re going to ask me to be your assistant today, aren’t you?” Spencer finally caught on.

“You know me so well, Spence.” Finally packed, you put the bags by the door and looked at the time.

Perfect. Enough time to spend a few minutes with Spencer getting him caught up.

“Will you?” You asked, sitting next to him on the couch.

“If it means I get to eat some of the cake, sure.” Spencer smiled as he thought about all the other weddings that you brought home wedding cake and how good it was.

“I’ll get you a slice and I’ll give you my slice as bonus.” You said, a smile growing on your face at the solved problem.

—

Spencer had no clue what he was doing and it made him nervous so he did something he rarely did:

He Googled “How to be a wedding photographer.”

You took care of the driving, telling him about all of the amazing photos you want to get and how the wedding will progress. You told him about your high school connection to the couple and how this was the perfect time for him to work with you because there was no pressure. You were excited to let your high school family meet the love of your life. Then you quickly returned to how excited you were to show him how to shoot the wedding as a professional photographer.

“Do you want me to do anything special?” Spencer asked, getting distracted from finding the next article because he was so in love with how you talked about your job.

After seeing the horrors of the world, he gets to come home to you editing photos of people having their times of their lives with the loves of their lives. The most he could wish was to have those moments with you one day but he hasn’t had the courage to say it yet. every time he tried to bring it up, the intrusive thoughts returned, telling him you wouldn’t want to marry a nervous wreck like him. They didn’t even know how he was going to handle the wedding. So many people… So many germs… How had he never thought about this before. Maybe-

“I’ve dreamed about this moment so many times…” You said, bringing his curiosity back into this moment in the car as you pulled into a parking spot.

“Hmm?” Spencer said.

He always tried to hide those thoughts when they started to invade his mind but you could always tell. He knew because you would grab his hand and gently squeeze a few times to make sure he knew he wasn’t alone in his head.

“I don’t know… I see these instagram couples that are like… ‘shooting a wedding with my boyfriend today.’ And I always wanted that…” You said, smiling at him.

“Oh…” Spencer said, slightly blushing. “I’m glad I could contribute my existence to making your aspirations a reality.”

“I love you too, Spencer.” You chuckled, knowing he didn’t really know what to say.

—

The two of you went on through the wedding day, photographing the moments as you would with Spencer trying to copy some of the things he memorized on the Google searches. When he showed you images, you almost cried every time but he was always trying to figure out why. They weeren’t the most stunning images but you looked at them like you hadn’t seen anything better in your life. It was a weird feeling for him to see consistently.

It was time for the ceremony, where his instructions were to take photos throughout the ceremony of family members, guests, wedding party, things like that. He watched the reactions as the bride walked down the aisle and it hit his heart like Miley Cyrus riding the wrecking ball: He didn’t want to be the guy taking photos. He didn’t want to be the one who was in the crowd, like so many weddings before him. He didn’t want to officiate and talk about love.

He wanted to show you how much he loved you and only you. He wanted to be the one at the alter as you walked down, his eyes welling with tears while Morgan claps his hand on Spencer’s shoulder before going, “you did good, kid.”

Spencer wanted to marry you. In that moment, there was no question about it.

—

“Would you have a big guest list?” Spencer said, standing in line for dinner with you.

As wedding photographers, you always had to negotiate eating at the same time as the married couple because you needed to be ready for when they were ready. You didn’t need spencer for the reception so he was on “content duty,” which was much harder to him.

“Whut?” You said, putting a slice of salad in your mouth as soon as you sat down.

You had a tendency of scarfing down everything too quickly at the wedding so you could be ready.

“Our wedding. Would you like a big guest list?” Spencer sat down across from you at the table.

“Spencer-” You almost choked on your salad.

“I was thinking…” Spencer started, tapping his leg as people passed his chair.

It put him on edge to not be able to see everyone but he was focused on you so his world was a lot more focused.

“What if we got married? A nice venue, our friends and family, a honeymoon to follow?” Spencer was nervous because you looked confused, not excited.

“Where did this come from?” You said, sipping some of the tea.

“Meeting the bride, your friend, the groom, and everyone… How many people do you think find their soulmate? So early in life…” He was trying to make sense of this whole thing for months.

“Spencer.” You said, pulling your chair closer to him. “Are you okay?”

You put your hand on his forehead before sliding it down to his cheek.

“I love you. More than I have ever loved anyone or anything. I love you more than the stars love the light of the moon. And I never want to be without you. If you asked, I would quit my job and take wedding photos all the time.” Spencer said, still trying to assess your response.

“Spencer, what are you… Are you saying you want to spend more time with me? I can switch my schedule around, if so. I can edit at different times or…” You looked hopeful but you didn’t know how to really respond.

“I want to marry you.” Spencer said, getting drowned out by the sounds of the emcee announcing cake cutting.

“You want what?” You asked, distracted by the announcement.

“Have a wedding.” Spencer said, once again drowned out by the announcer.

You whipped your head around to the sound of chairs scooting back from the table, across the wood.

Cake cutting was the last event in the night and you were scheduled to leave right after.

“I’ll tell you in the car.” Spencer said, starting to help you pack up things up before going to the car.

—

“What were you saying?” You asked Spencer, nearly skipping to the car with all of the ideas you came up with through the car. It was exhausting but you were excited to edit them in a couple days, when you recovered.

“Do you want to get married?” He asked, putting the bags in the trunk of the car.

“Yeah, one day…” You sighed, putting in your bags before closing the trunk.

“Okay.” Spencer said, looking down at you.

“Okay?” You looked at Spencer with a puzzled look.

“Oh. Do you want to get married… To me?” Spencer said, nervous at the thought and hoping this was okay.

“Yeah… One day.” You smiled, finally catching on.

Spencer took a step back and got down on one knee.

“I don’t have a ring…” Spencer patted his pockets.

“I don’t have my nails painted or hands lotioned or anything. Take my as I am?” You asked, chuckling.

“Only if you take me home to bed, where I can hold you and think about our wedding obsessively…” Spencer took your hand in his and kissed it before standing and pulling you into one of your favorite hugs: a spencer hug.

#spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid

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bonny-kookoo · 11 months

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Jungkook

𝓜𝓮𝓪𝓷𝓽 𝓽𝓸 𝓫𝓮 : Things I miss

After a little more than two years of living without you, he's totally fine. No really, he is. He doesn't miss you at all. Not one bit. People would notice if he wasn't fine after all, wouldn't they?

Tags/Warnings: Angst, hurt & Comfort, Idol!Jungkook, Hybrid!Reader, Cat Hybrid!Reader, mentions of depression and depressive thoughts, heartbreak, homelessness, it's a bit heavy sorry, mentions of mental abuse and manipulation, betrayal, slow burn, eventual smut, dead dove do not eat

Dead Dove do not eat: warning for potentially triggering content that can't be tagged without spoiling the story.

Length: 2.8k words

-> Masterlist

~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~

Today, he's having a bad day.

They've had to shoot a music video today, some of the dancers being hybrids. They only really kept to themselves, didn't interact with them or him in particular at all, but one of them had bumped into him today, leaving all her white and grey cat hairs over his clothes. They're not that many, technically. It's barely noticable at all. And still, he's washing his shirt again just to make sure her scent didn't stick.

He himself has no way of knowing. You'd notice for sure though.

He's drinking on his livestream, because he knows he has to apologize again. People have seen the behind the scenes footage at this point, and he's scrolled through the comments just to find a whole bunch of fans confused over his yet again rather rude behavior. Most write it off and focus more on his honestly piss poor attempt at making sure she was alright after crashing into him- but he knows he should've acted differently.

It's like he's stuck in a loop he can't get out of.

"Ah, yes." He hums, almost using his glass mug of iced wine to hide. It'll be fine. Fans think it's cute, after all. "I wanted to.. apologize. You've seen the video, right?" He nods, seeing all the answers flow into the chatroom on his phone in front of him. He doesn't know what to really say now. Jungkook sucks at lying, and everybody knows it. "I think you all know.. that we, you know, as Idols, have to be very careful." He offers, thinking carefully over his choice of words in order to appease everyone. If he makes it less about himself, and more about the big picture, he'll be able to pull himself out of it with nothing but a scratch soon to heal once people forget. "I didn't.. Some might get upset if we talk, or get close to girls." He nods to himself, staring into his cup for a moment. "So.. ah, you understand, right? You get what I'm saying, right?" He tries to joke, though he knows they can sense he's nervous. "I don't want people to get upset at anyone." he finishes his tiny rant, and the chatroom fills with supportive messages and hearts, making him relax again in his seat as he changes topics to something else.

He sings, drinks some more, ends his livestream later on. Everything's fine.

Until someone rings his doorbell, Namjoon wanting to visit him. At this hour? Strange, but it's not like it's never happened before.

"Jungkook- is everything alright?" He asks, taking off his shoes at the entrance of the youngest's apartment. Jungkook hums something akin to an answer, stumbling a little over his own feet as he puts his galss mug into the sink for him to wash tomorrow. Tonight, he's just not in the mood. "What happened here?" The bandleader asks, and Jungkook turns to look at whatever Namjoon is referring to- spotting the rather angry hole in his wall.

"Oh." He just says, pouting a bit to himself as he tries to think of when it happened. Slowly, Jungkook looks at his hand, suddenly feeling like his knuckles are burning. And they are- they're bleeding a little, skin scratched open. He doesn't remember doing that. Or does he?

"Oh?" Namjoon worries. "Jungkook, what is wrong with you?" He almost scolds, and suddenly the singer wants him out. He doesn't want to be lectured, he's had that done to him year after year after year. He doesn't need this right now. He's done everything they all wanted- he sacrificed everything from his youth to his love to his potential future- how much more does everyone want from him?

He's got nothing left to give, really. They've taken it all.

"I'll stay over tonight, alright?" Namjoon sighs. "I don't think you should be by yourself like this. We'll talk tomorrow when you're sober." He offers, walking around to a room he remembers being a guest room at some point. But its locked- and as soon as Jungkook hears the hauntingly familiar slight creaking of the handle of that particular room, he snaps his head around, angry.

"Leave that." He barks out, irritated.

"Why is it locked?" Namjoon wonders, genuinely confused, and a little bit concerned as well.

"Because no one's supposed to go in there." The singer says, flopping down on the couch before he turns on the TV.

"Not even you?" The rapper questions, sitting down with a respectful distance next to his bandmate.

"No." He simply answers, not looking at him as he zaps through the channels. "Because it's not my room." He mumbles more or less, alcohol in his system making his busan accent stand out thickly.

Namjoon is confused for a good moment- until he spots the colorful stuffed animal on the couch, next to Jungkook, who carefully makes sure it rather sits on the small table next to the couch so it doesn't accidentally get squished by sitting on it. "It was hers." He states.

Jungkook squirms uncomfortably. "It is hers." He growls almost, visibly not alright with you being brought up as a topic at all. He's always doing that, sober or drunk- he hates talking about you, and for a while, everyone had simply thought that you and him maybe broke up on bad terms, that you left. But only recently have him and Yoongi found out about the whole company issues regarding you and him- from the first problems starting right after he'd brought you home to him, to the more extreme things such as the end of your relationship.

"Jungkook.." He sighs, feeling bad for his bandmate. While him and the rest of the band back then didn't really support nor like the idea of the youngest living with a hybrid, no one wanted him to go through what he's going through right now. Yoongi had noticed it quite quickly, considering that the producer had gone through depression and anxiety before- it takes one to know one, he'd said.

"No, don't.." Jungkook shakes his head, annoyed. "I don't wanna talk about it. Just go." He dismisses him, brows furrowed and a frustrated look on the singer's face. "I'm fine."

Namjoon sighs, before he gets up, and seems to search around. "What're you doing?" The singer questions, watching his leader roam around kitchen drawers for something- before he makes his way back to your old room, a key in hand. "Don't you dare!" He immediately calls out, terrified and voice laced with panic as he jumps over the back of the couch- though not in time before the door is opened. Namjoon gains a small tiny glimpse of it- your bed unmade, some clothes in a hamper, dust on the shelf closest to the door- before it slams shut again, and he's pushed aside. "Get out."

"Jungkook, you have to move on-" He tries, but the young man in question pushes him again.

"I said get out!" He barks again- and in all honestly, Namjoon has never seen him quite like this. He doesn't even look angry- it's something else that reminds him of back when he was still a 13-year old child, full of fear and uncertainty, shy and unsure of himself. It hurts him almost physically to see him like this- and he doesn't know how to help him. Or even, if he can at all.

So he leaves, because in that moment, that's all he can really do to make it better.

As soon as Namjoon is gone, Jungkook is still left in the same spot, key left in the door to your room. And slowly, carefully, he opens it to reveal the self-made time capsule, everything still the same way you've left it years ago, when he'd taken you to Hanako, never picking you up ever again. It the first time in almost a year that he's standing here again, and he feels exhausted, for some reason. The door clicks shut behind him as he leans against it, sliding down to sit on the carpet floor, simply staring at what's left of you in his home.

Things are barely illuminated by the citylights outside the window, see-through pink curtains only mildly coloring them in a rosy hue. Your bed is unmade, blankets and pillows without order as they're left from the last time you slept here, unaware that you'd never return. It even smells like you, faintly. But with an almost nostalgic hint to it, making it all hurt just a little more.

There's dust on the shelves and windowsill. On the several figurines you had, the snow globes you collected. He'd bring you one from every country he visited as a souvenir whenever you couldn't tag along- which was more often than not.

Hanako, back then, would have never been his first choice for you. But he didn't have anyone else apart from her- a former translator of his band, the only one who really seemed to at least mildly care about you. You're fine with her, you'll have a normal life- he'd made sure of that after all, had given her a huge chunk of money to use on you only, any need you might have. You'll live a normal life, happy, even if it's not with him.

It was his last act of love for you, even if you probably hate him for it.

But what else was he supposed to do? Let them take you back to the carecenter, where you'd be ostracized forever? They would've never been able to give you into anyone else's care after living with him, the company way too scared of you talking to the media even though he himself knows you'd never do that. They weren't very happy with his choice either- but they at least stopped bothering him after they made sure he really cut all ties with you.

Horrible, really. Just cruel. How much more does he need to sacrifice in order to gain anything from it? How much longer until everyone gets fed up with his attitude he's got no control over these days? It'll only be a matter of time until his actions are no longer excusable, won't it?

But it's alright, even if he doesn't feel like it right now.

He's okay.

~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~

The next few days are uneventful, and Namjoon never brings up the incident at all. It's probably for the best, or maybe he's even forgotten about it- it was really insignificant after all. He simply had a bad day, nothing else.

He's fine.

He really doesn't want to be here today however, the shooting with the fans making him horribly uncomfortable for more reasons than just one. He's already swaying on the spot, nervous about things he can't really pinpoint. Maybe it's everything, maybe it's nothing. He's not sure anymore what's the problem these days- maybe Namjoon was right. Maybe he should move on.

You won't be coming back, after all, no matter how stubborn he himself might be to this day. He can't help his behavior- but it'll be okay.

It's fine, really.

He knows that the fans understand after all, even if they don't know the reason for his rather rude behavior. He's grateful they excuse his actions with whatever theory they might come up with- he'll apologize later, give them at least some sort of bandaid to cover up the hurtful sting of his avoidance every single time.

But he can't bring himself to even look at them, not even after years in between what once was and now is. It's frustrating, really, how he can't seem to heal no matter what he does. You're stuck in his mind, every glance he takes at the young cat hybrid fan in front of him morphing into your face instead for no reason other than to spite him. But she's not you.

None of them are, or could ever be.

Jungkook can't even bring himself to think what might have become of you now. He's chosen not to know anything after all, has no way to contact you or find you again, your name and ID number changed to something he doesn't know and never will.

He knows it's better like this. For the both of you.

He loves his fans, he really does, but the way some of them will morph into monsters out for blood if they were to know of your existence and more so your connection to him; he knows he wouldn't be able to protect you down the line. You'd never be safe, you'd never be able to live a normal and happy life with him tied to your name and face.

It's the one thing he hates about his chosen life.

He poses for a picture the best he can, though careful not to touch any of the fans present in the photo. It's like the slight brush of the girl's cat tail against his pants stings him like sour acid, burning into his skin even though all that really sticks to him are a few hairs on his black cotton pants.

But even those, he immediately brushes off, bowing to the fans that leave, apologetic because he knows how awful that must've looked to her. He doesn't want to be like this, he doesn't want to come off as such an awful person, but be can't help it.

Later, at home, he makes a public post on weverse: an open letter apologizing for his behavior, and a promise to do better in the future.

Everyone understands, sends encouraging comments, and he feels even worse now, because he knows he won't change.

He can't.

Not when he's still got some of your old clothes in a backpack in the back of his closet. Not if he's still keeping your favorite comfort plushy on his couch, ready to be held by him whenever he feels particularly lonely. Not when he still tries to seek out your scent by jumping the same bodywash you did back when you still lived with him. Not when he can't let go of the past.

There's numerous theories amongst his fanbase as to why he's like this to hybrids in particular. From a past friend having died, to him being the victim of an attack at some point, there's a wild and colorful variety of explanations they've come up with over the years. Some are chilling to read, while others make him rather frustrated.

He hates that he tends to be portrayed as the vulnerable victim in all of them, when in reality, he never was and never will be. But he doesn't comment on any of the theories to keep them occupied. As long as they think they've got it figured out, they won't dig any deeper than they should.

Today it's a bit easier. Today, he's a bit lighter, having fun singing karaoke on his livestream, before he ends it to shower and go to sleep later. Today, it's not that bad, but he knows it'll only be a matter of time before he's hit with it again, memories and what-if's haunting him again like some curse put on him.

His phone rings, and he picks it up. An unknown number, probably a fan who's overstepped the line again. He denies it, before it calls again- tongue clicking as he accepts the call.

"Please don't ca-"

"Jungkook?" An older woman's voice asks, and he freezes, because even through the natural distortion of his phone's speaker, he knows that voice.

"…" he swallows thickly, collecting his thoughts for a moment before he answers back with a dark tone to his voice. He doesn't need this. "I told you to never contact me-"

"I know, I know, but I fucked up." She tells him, making him nervous. What is she talking about? "I fucked up bad, and now- the police isn't doing anything about it, and I don’t know who to call anymore.." she explains almost as if out of breath, and he's looking at nothing with furrowed brows. "Its been days, and I've honestly.. I don't know anymore, I need help, and at this point, you're pretty much my last chance."

"What are you talking about?" He wants to know, irritated by her cryptic rambling, while simultaneously feeling his blood run cold at the prospect of what she might be talking about. About who she might be talking about.

"She ran away, Jungkook." She says.

And all falls silent for a moment, as he processes what he's just been told.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook imagine

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hollyethecurious · 3 months

Text

CS AU: Pan Says... (7/?)

Summary: After waking up in a strange room with a naked stranger, Emma and Killian must endure the twisted game their kidnapper insists they play in order to gain provisions and avoid punishments.

A/N: I know, I know... all I do lately is apologize for not updating more frequently. I promise to try and do better, and as penance I have for you today a longer update than I had originally planned, so... forgive me?

PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE! Heed the warnings listed below. This chapter is a bit of a doozy.

Lots of love to @ultraluckycatnd and @kmomof4 for their exceptional beta skills!

Rated E /Also available on ao3 and ff.net / buy me a coffee / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me!

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six

Chapter Prompts: I received a couple of Asks asking for scenarios I've included in this update. Most of them were anonymous, lol.

Warnings: This chapter contains depictions of medical assault and rape by instrumentation. Also includes somnophilia, dubious consent, and a POV some readers might find triggering. Please feel free to message me for specifics before reading if you need to.

Part Seven

Nature’s call pulled Killian from a deep sleep. He stumbled his way to the water closet, trying his best to not wake Emma as he closed the door and relieved himself. He’d just finished a haphazard washing of his hands when he heard the soft click of the lock on the bathroom door, and then the dread-inducing screech of the metal door that separated them from the rest of the compound. Someone had entered their room, Killian realized in a panic, frantically trying to open the firmly locked door that separated him from his Swan.

“Emma!” he shouted, hoping to rouse her from sleep before their intruder did. “Emma!”

Startled exclamations muffled their way to his ears, as did the rustling of sheets and thuds from bootfalls. Again, Killian cried out Emma’s name, banging on the door and demanding to be let out.

“Killian!” he heard Emma shout, a bit more distant than he’d expect if she were still on the bed.

More rustling and shuffles of feet, followed by the agonizing sound of the metal door sealing shut once more had Killian’s pulse spiking in fear. When the soft click of the lock finally released, he burst out of the bathroom to find the room vacant.

Pillows and linens were strewn across the bed and onto the floor. Killian followed the trail of the bedsheet and hammered his fist against the door. “Let me out!” he demanded, pain shooting up his arm with each pounding. “Let me out!”

“Why would I do that?” Pan’s voice crackled from overhead.

Killian turned to face one of the many cameras “hidden” within the room. “Bring her back!“ he shouted. “Bring Emma back!”

“I don’t think so,” Pan drawled, a hardened edge underpinning his words. “I think some time away from each other to reflect upon what you’ve done will do you both some good. Besides…” he drew out the dramatic pause, and though Killian had no idea what the vile little imp looked like, he couldn’t help but imagine a sinister grin being applied to his next words. “We both know your little act of defiance last night cannot go without punishment.”

“Take me, then” Killian pleaded. “Bring Emma back and take me! I’ll bear the punishment. Just… don’t hurt Emma.”

“Oh, you’ll share in the punishment,” Pan promised. “I have something very special planned for the both of you. Don’t you worry about that.”

Feedback shrieked through the speakers, forcing Killian to cover his ears as Pan quite clearly and effectively shut down their communication. Tears welled in Killian’s eyes and his whole body shook from the overwhelming fear consuming him.

What was Pan planning to do? How long would he and Emma be separated from one another? What would they have to endure whilst they were reflecting?

Killian sank down on the edge of the bed and buried his head in his hands. “I’m so sorry, Emma,” he whispered into the silence. “I’m so sorry, my love.”

Eventually, he traded his seated position at the end of the bed to being curled up in the fetal position upon it. He watched the path of the sun as its beams entered through the high window after sunrise and crossed the floor of the room during the early morning hours. He was numb and emotionally spent, having given over to the terror and tears that had wracked his body for what seemed like hours. Now, he just laid there, staring at the chips and cracks in the floor, without even the energy to chastise himself. What would the point be in that? It wasn’t as though there was anything he could do. No way out of the room, no way to communicate with anyone, no way to help Emma.

Killian clamped his eyes shut and fought back the rising bile his mutinous imagination threatened to bring up. Try as he might to keep the thoughts and visions at bay, he couldn’t help but consider the atrocities Pan might be subjecting her to. He turned his face into the mattress and balled the sheet in his hand, attempting once more to expel the torment of his mind.

The crackle of static from the tv screen grabbed his attention and Killian bolted off the bed. The monitor showed a sterile looking exam room, much like one would find at a physician’s office. Coming into frame from off screen, a Lost One appeared carrying an unconscious Emma in his arms. Killian tensed as he watched him lay her on the exam table, only relaxing when he disappeared out of frame again. The relief was short lived when another man entered, quickly followed by a small statured woman. Both were garbed in medical scrubs, including surgical masks, which obscured their identity.

Killian watched in confused horror as the woman - a nurse? - folded out a pair of stirrups from the end of the table and set Emma’s feet into them. She and the doctor (or at least, Killian hoped he was a doctor) positioned Emma to their liking, covering her lower half with a sheet before the doctor brought over a stool and sat between her spread open legs. Killian watched with shallow breaths and clenched fists as the nurse handed the doctor instruments so he could perform some sort of procedure. When it finally became clear to him, Killian was shocked to realize what he was witnessing.

They were removing her IUD.

Pushing himself away from the exam table, the doctor stood and removed his gloves. There was no audio, but Killian deduced he had given the nurse instructions before departing. It wasn’t until after the man had gone that Killian acknowledged the reason for the extra tension he’d been holding. As violating as the procedure had been, Killian had prepared himself to witness an altogether different kind of violation of his Swan.

Shaken, Killian sat back down and ran his hands through his hair, only vaguely aware Pan had come back on the speaker.

“What?”

“Pan says,” he repeated, “you are not permitted to tell her what you just saw.”

Stunned, Killian blinked several times, letting his mind catch up to the horrors Pan continued to lay before him, then thunderously, he stood and shouted, “You can’t expect me to keep something of this magnitude from her!”

“You will if you want to keep her alive,” Pan stated flatly, sobering Killian and sending a chill down his spine. “Keep this to yourself,” Pan warned again. “Or your punishment will be paid by her… with her life.”

~/~

Emma sat on a tiny cot with her knees pulled up to her chest. The hospital gown they’d given her the day before was stiff and scratchy against her skin, but at least she was no longer cramping.

Pan had told her that she would be the one punished, because she had been the instigator in her and Killian’s “dalliance”. The price for such an offense… she had to have her IUD removed, and she had to keep its removal a secret from Killian.

“You can’t expect me to keep something like that from him!” she’d protested, yelling up at the speakers embedded in the ceiling of her new, tiny cell.

“If you do not,” Pan had warned her coldly, “Then I will force Killian to pay the price… with a pound of his flesh.”

When the doctor had come in to talk with her before the procedure, she’d learned he was one of Pan’s poor unfortunate victims as well, forced to serve as the demented imp’s medical errand boy. He seemed professional enough, though perhaps a bit arrogant. His brash demeanor shifted though when Emma asked him what Pan had meant by “a pound of flesh.”

Swallowing hard, the platinum haired man exhaled deeply before confessing, “It could mean a variety of things. Having an organ removed so it can be sold on the black market, or even an… an amputation.”

“Amputation?!” Emma exclaimed in a shocked whisper. “You mean you…”

Solemnly the man nodded. “I’ve been forced to remove every organ imaginable and sever untold numbers of body parts from various victims of Pan’s.” Taking her hand in his, he squeezed it tightly and advised, “If you want your friend to remain whole, then do as Pan says.”

She’d woken up in this new room some time later, sore between her legs in a different sort of way than she had been after her night with Killian. A note with self-care instructions and a bottle of ibuprofen had been left on the table by her bedside, and it was then Emma had realized she’d mercifully been anesthetized for the procedure. The day had stretched into night and Emma had sat paralyzed with guilt and fear over what Killian might be going through. She’d had little to no sleep, and was therefore more on edge than normal when the door to her cell opened the next morning.

“Sorry,” the doctor apologized, noting how she’d balked at his appearance. “I just wanted to check and see how you were doing. Is it alright if I examine you? I have my nurse with me.”

Emma consented to his examination, not wishing to give Pan any further ammunition to use against her, or worse… against Killian.

“Everything seems to be in order,” he told her. “Anything bothering you physically? Any pain?”

Emma shook her head and mumbled she was fine, then sat back up with the assistance of the nurse once he’d finished. She was just straightening the hospital gown when she felt the prick of a needle pierce her shoulder.

“What did you…” The question fell away as numbness immediately began to overtake her. Within seconds, Emma could not move her arms or legs and she slumped over into the doctor’s arms, unable to keep herself upright.

“It’s okay,” the man soothed, laying her back down on the cot. “The effects are temporary. You’ll remain conscious, but you’ll be unable to move or speak until it wears off.”

More and more of her succumbed to the paralysis, her entire body becoming heavy and unresponsive. When her eyes would not open again after a blink, Emma panicked. Her heart raced at the sound of bootfalls entering the room and a silent scream echoed through her mind when she was hoisted off the cot and over a man’s shoulder.

~/~

Killian stood in the corner opposite the door, anxiously waiting for it to open. He wasn’t sure if having forewarning of Emma’s return was better or worse than simply being surprised. In the last few minutes since Pan had given him the news and his instructions, Killian had worked himself into another right state.

His stomach churned in a way that made him thankful for his lack of appetite since Emma had been carted away. Although, its lack of contents did not stop the threatening bile from creeping up his throat. His palms were slick with a sweat that was slowly breaking out over his entire body and his heart felt as though he might choke on it.

With the notice and instruction had also come the reminder to not let on what he’d seen the day before. As if he could forget. However, when the door finally opened and the Lost Ones entered (one with Emma over his shoulder and the other brandishing a cattle prod in Killian’s direction), Killian understood why Pan felt the need to remind him. All he wanted to do was take her in his arms and reassure himself of her safety, to inquire how she was feeling, whether she was in pain or needed anything from him to ease the after effects of what she’d been through. Of course, he couldn’t do that. He had to pretend he didn’t know any more than she did about what happened to her during their separation. Her life depended on it.

“Swan?” Killian called out as the Lost One laid her on the bed. “Swan, are you alright?”

She didn’t move. Didn’t respond. For an awful, gut-wrenching second, Killian thought she might be…

A sigh of relief whooshed from his lungs when he saw her chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm. She was alive. Thank God!

“I’m afraid she is currently… unable to respond,” Pan said over the speaker system as the Lost Ones backed out of the cell.

Once the door was secured, Pan gave Killian permission to leave the corner, and he wasted no time in rushing to Emma’s side.

“Swan?” he prodded, gently shaking her shoulders. “Emma, love. Wake up.”

“I told you,” Pan sighed in a bored yet exasperated tone. “She is unable to respond.”

“What did you do to her?” Killian demanded, his gaze sweeping over her form, working in tandem with his hands as he searched for injuries or any other clue that might explain her comatose condition. Was she still under the effects of the anesthetic she’d been given?

“Careful,” Pan warned in a feigned voice of concern. “She has a number of bruises and abrasions. You wouldn’t want to go and injure her further.”

Killian’s head snapped towards the camera perched over the TV monitor and again demanded, through grit teeth, “What did you do--”

“Oh, don’t look at me,” Pan said. “I had nothing to do with those bruises, or any of the other markings. You did that.”

Killian’s eyes slid back to Emma’s body, and he began to note the marks his mouth had made on her neck, as well as the faint impressions his fingertips had left behind.

“Pan says,” the voice commanded in an accusatory tone, “undress her and take a good look at what you’ve done to her.”

“No,” Killian stated, defiantly. Standing from the bed, where he’d been kneeling next to Swan’s prone body, he took measured steps towards the camera, wagging his finger in its direction. “I know what you’re doing,” he said. “I won’t have you twisting what happened. I know what Emma and I shared the other night and it wasn’t what you’re insinuating.”

“Oh? What was it then?”

“It was magic,” he declared vehemently, with his arms spread in boastful defiance, “And freedom. Full unabated freedom. The kind you experience with someone you trust unequivocally, with whom you can bare yourself in ways you never thought yourself capable. The kind that requires a level of understanding, devotion, and acceptance rarely found between two individuals.”

Each word of defense against Pan’s implied censures was also a much needed reminder to himself of the truth of what he and Emma shared. He would not let this vile monster take from them what they had sought to claim for themselves.

“That’s what Emma and I have and nothing you can say or do is going to change that fact.”

“Oh?” Pan drawled. “Perhaps not,” he stated as the cell door squealed opened and a Lost One sauntered into the room. “But I imagine he can.”

Positioning himself between the Lost One and Emma, still lying helpless on the bed, Killian braced his posture and demanded to know, “What do you mean? What’s he going to do?”

“That depends on you,” Pan replied. “If what you say is true, then surely Emma won’t object to you taking some liberties with her whilst she is currently… indisposed.”

“Liberties?” Killian questioned. Though a sick feeling forming in the pit of his stomach had already begun to deduce the madman’s meaning.

“It appeared to me that she took quite a few liberties with you the other night, so I’m simply letting you return the favor. Of course… should you refuse…”

The Lost One’s hands dropped to his waist and he began to loosen his belt, his salacious gaze and a hint of a smug smile peeking out from the mask he wore.

“No! Stop!” When Killian’s words failed to stall the Lost One’s actions, he turned back towards the camera and agreed with Pan’s wishes. “I’ll do as you say. I’ll take whatever liberties you demand, just…” Pointing a stern finger at the Lost One, Killian implored, “Get him out of here!”

The Lost One’s hands balled themselves into fists and he hesitated for a moment after the order from Pan was issued. His eyes fell to Emma, a sinister sort of longing swirling through their brown depths, before he flicked them back up and glared at Killian as he backed out of the cell.

He’d wanted her, Killian realized with a jolt of propriety rage and jealousy. It hadn’t simply been a command he was conditioned to obey that had made him willing to do the unthinkable to Emma. He wanted her, had been eager to have her, even.

Emma’s comments about her exchange with one of the Lost One’s returned to him and he couldn’t help but wonder if the Lost One he’d just encountered had been the same, or… No. She had said the Lost One who had carried him back after being drugged seemed to care for him. That Lost One, the one who had just departed, held nothing but animosity towards Killian. Did that mean…?

If Killian had a connection to the other Lost One, then was this Lost One connected to Emma somehow?

The startling question would have to be left unanswered for the moment. Killian needed to focus on the rules and procedures Pan was currently laying out for his new depraved game.

~/~

It had taken some doing, but Emma had managed to quiet the panic deafening her mind. Being unable to control one’s body, to even open your eyes or utter a sound was the most unnatural and surreal feeling she had ever experienced. The only thing she could seem to manipulate was her breathing, but it also continued to work involuntarily as well.

She’d held her breath in awe against the swell of emotion that had filled her during Killian’s declarations, but it had sped up on its own, almost to the point of hyperventilating when the Lost One had returned and Pan’s intentions had been made clear.

Never doubting that Killian would do whatever he had to in order to keep her safe had not kept her from again holding her breath until the sound of the door screeched closed this last time, ensuring she would not suffer at the hands of some stranger. Now, she attempted to regulate her breathing once more as Pan gave instructions to Killian regarding their new game.

“Of course, I realize that my voice might be a bit of a distraction… a deterrent even. So, you’ll know a new Pan Says has been issued when the lights flicker. You can then receive your next set of instructions from the monitor. Understood?”

“Aye,” Killian clipped out, sounding closer now than he had a moment again. “Let’s get on with it.”

“Excellent,” Pan crowed. “This will be my last vocal command until our game is at an end. Pan says… undress Emma.”

The bed dipped and she could feel Killian’s presence. She longed to reassure him, to look into his eyes and let him know she was alright, that she wouldn’t hold anything he had to do to her against him. All she could do was lie there, though; a limp piece of dead weight he had to roll and reposition without any assistance in order to appease Pan and his perverted commands.

Once the hospital gown had been removed, leaving her thoroughly exposed, Killian returned her to her back and from behind her eyelids she could detect the change in lighting as they dimmed and brightened, signaling a new Pan Says. If she could have scoffed, she would have. Of course he was giving written instructions. Pan knew she was conscious and could hear everything. He didn’t want her to have any forewarning of what was to be done to her, the bastard.

The mattress dipped next to Emma’s head and she felt the scratch of Killian’s beard against her cheek. Inhaling deeply, she let his scent fill her lungs, let its calming balm soothe her racing heart.

“I’m sorry, love,” he whispered low and soft into her ear. “I’m so sorry. I hope you can forgive me for what I must do.”

I already have, she told him, if only in her mind.

Her breath hitched at the feel of his rough tongue caressing the space below her ear. It only took a few swirls and licks for her to process what he was being forced to do, her skin still sore in the places where he had sucked his brand into her flesh during their lovemaking. Pan was making him trace every mark, every bruise, every abrasion Killian had left on her body with nothing more than his tongue.

Pin pricks of wonder rippled across her skin when he reached her breasts. His hot breath preceded the warmth of his mouth as it caressed the scrapes previously left behind from his teeth. She wanted nothing more than to arch her back and encourage him to take her nipples fully into his mouth, but her inability to move was proving torturous in ways she had not considered.

Her stomach, her hips, the insides of her thighs, all points of contact along the front of her he had to trace with his tongue before rolling her onto her stomach. He took extra care and attention to place her arms and head into as comfortable positions as he could before continuing his ministrations down her back. Long, lingering, dampened laves followed the welts and scratches left by his nails and soft flutters caressed the bruises on her hips and buttocks, causing a shiver to run up her spine and a dull ache to begin throbbing from between her legs, which were dangling awkwardly off the bed.

The lights dimmed and brightened again and before Emma had a chance to wonder what Pan’s new demand was, a light smack landed on her backside. The lights flickered again and a slightly harder slap cracked across her ass. When the lights signaled again, the sting of Killian’s palm, firmly making contact with her already reddened and raised flesh, brought tears to her eyes. As did the next strike, and the one after that, and the ones after that. Tears broke free from her lashes, pooling in the crease next to her nose before slipping across her face into the sheet beneath her cheek. Killian’s rough, calloused hand stroked her ass, attempting to soothe some of the pain he’d inflicted. Pain she absolutely did not mind. In fact, she kinda got off on it, and when his fingers dipped between her legs to find her wet and wanting, his groan told her it was a fact he was now aware of as well.

A series of strobing lights had Killian on his knees in front of foot of the bed, his face buried in her folds with his mouth latched to her clit, while his fingers toyed with and probed her holes. He was knuckle deep in her ass, fucking her with his fingers as his tongue assaulted her cunt and she could hear the cries of her body, begging for release, whimpering in her head, unable to convey its desire in any way, shape, or form, which had to be the most maddening experience of her life. When relief finally came, her orgasm slammed through her completely unobstructed with an intensity far greater than any she could ever remember having before. A moan vibrated through her pussy, prolonging her climax, and Emma wondered if, despite her inability to tell him so, Killian could tell she had come from his tongue.

Her breathing was labored, the sound of her blood roared in her ears, and she felt flushed and sated from the tips of her ears to the points of her toes. Unable to vocalize, a groan stuck in her throat when he removed his fingers from her depths and began to roll her over onto her back once more. She hadn’t even noticed the lights indicating a new task.

Attempting to regain her bearings, Emma could hear the rustling of fabric and suspected Killian was taking off his clothes. Her heart rate picked up at the prospect of him being inside her, filling her like he had the other night, and a fresh ache took hold of her core even as she worried about her new unprotected status. With a firm tug, he pulled her closer to the edge of the bed until her ass was practically hanging off the side. Lifting her hips, he wedged a pillow beneath her, raising her pelvis and tilting it up to meet his groin.

She startled when his cock slapped against her clit, not that he would be able to tell. Her skin raised in a ripple of goose flesh when he did it a second and then third time before lining himself up with her entrance and stretching her in that delicious way as he entered her. Grabbing her ankles, he draped them over his shoulders, then wrapped his arms around her legs, holding them tight to his chest as he began to rut his hips into hers. The rhythm he set was punishing, the force of each thrust making her breasts bounce wildly, borderline painfully, as he pistoned deeper and deeper into her. His pace was relentless, slowing down only once several minutes into the assault, when the lights flickered and he presumably glanced over his shoulder to read Pan’s newest command. He fucked her for an indeterminate amount of time after that. Forcefully, savagely, almost brutally.

The sound of their bodies slapping together echoed through the room, as did Killian’s ragged breathing and choked back utterances. Just when she thought she couldn’t take anymore, he pulled out and let go of her legs, causing one of them to slip off his shoulders. He grunted and cried out as hot streams of his release coated her breasts and stomach. Staccatoed breaths and moans reverberated off the metal walls until he was thoroughly spent, then he brushed a gentle kiss to the inside of her leg before resting his head against it, the sweat of his brow making it a slick point of contact.

“Good boy, Killian,” Pan rasped from overhead, ruining any tenderness Killian had been trying to infuse into the moment.

“Fuck off,” he snapped back, lowering her leg back down while removing the pillow from beneath her.

“Ah, ah,” Pan tutted. “Pan says to leave her as is.”

“Let me at least pull her further up the bed, so she doesn’t slip off onto the floor,” Killian argued.

When Pan did not respond, Killian climbed onto the bed and positioned himself behind her. Grasping under her arms, he hoisted her up the mattress until she was now completely situated on the bed. It shook as he collapsed next to her, his breaths still coming in pants from the extreme exertion he’d put both their bodies through.

She could visualize his face in her mind. Beads of perspiration were probably littering his brow and gathering in the hollow of his throat. His eyes were likely closed, his long lashes resting against his rosy cheeks, which would be nearly as pinked as his lips, red and swollen from the way he’d practically made a meal out of her. She longed to sweep his bangs off his forehead, to run her fingers down his face and trace his lips, allowing him to kiss each tip and tease them with his tongue.

As they lay there a tingling began to work its way through the numbness. Small jerks and spasms rippled through her extremities, exacerbating the soreness in her tender places. A groan made its way past her lips and she was finally able to pry her eyes open. She could feel Killian roll towards her, concern and guilt swimming in his eyes as his face came into view overhead.

“Swan?”

“K-Killian,” she croaked, attempting to raise her hand so she could cup his face, but it wouldn’t cooperate.

“Don’t try and move,” he said, making his way off the bed and into the bathroom. “I have to… you’ll need to…”

Unable to finish his thought, it wasn’t until she was finally able to turn her head and saw him return with a wet washcloth that she realized what he was struggling to tell her.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, trying to work up the necessary saliva to wet and clear her throat. “I know. I was conscious the whole time.”

“You… What?”

When she tried to sit up, he climbed back onto the bed, stalling her actions and encouraging her to lie back while he cleaned her up.

“Yeah, they injected me with… something. I don’t know what,” she explained, enjoying the feel of the damp cloth as it ran over her breasts and across her stomach, wiping away the now dried-on mess. “I couldn’t move or speak, but I was aware of everything. Could hear and… feel everything.”

Killian’s face pinched in a pained expression, and she could practically feel the guilt rolling off him. “I’m so sorry, Swan. I--”

“Hey,” she soothed, taking his hand. “It’s okay. You have to know that no matter how deranged or depraved, I’d rather it be you doing those things to me than--”

“Aye, I do… it’s just...”

“What?”

The muscle along his jaw tightened, causing a small spasm to ripple beneath his skin. Unable to meet her gaze, he confessed with a heavy dose of shame and penitence, “I enjoyed it.” His voice was little more than an exhale. If he’d been any further away, she likely wouldn’t have heard him at all. After a long pause he finally worked up the courage to look at her as he continued, “I didn’t want to. I only wanted to get it over with, but I… I started to enjoy it and--”

“Killian,” Emma sweetly admonished. “Do you really think I’d fault you for that? Do you think I was suffering the whole time? Because believe me… I wasn’t.” He offered her a small smile, but still didn’t seem convinced. Squeezing his hand more tightly, she added, “I will never hold my bringing you pleasure against you, no matter the circumstances. Every time there’s been intimacy between us, I’ve enjoyed it, at least on some level. Every. Time. Don’t ever forget that. Don’t ever forget those beautiful words you said to Pan about us.”

His eyes widened, perhaps realizing for the first time that she had been conscious for that part as well.

“I meant every word,” he assured her. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel guilty for the things I’ve done to you. Even though you say you enjoyed it, I see the bruises I left, from both the other night and the ones forming from my actions from only moments ago, and I hate myself for causing you pain.”

Stronger now, she sat up and cupped his face. “I won’t pretend I’m not sore, but… being with you is hands down the best sex of my life, and I would do it all again in a heartbeat.”

His eyes flickered between hers, reading the truth in her gaze and causing a more genuine smile to bloom from his face.

“I’m glad to hear that,” he replied on a heavy, relieved breath. Then a smirk lifted the corner of his mouth and with a raised brow he cheeked, “Though, given what you’ve told me of your past sexual encounters, that isn’t really saying much.”

She laughed and slapped his shoulder before falling into his arms, surrendering into his embrace as they clung to each other for several minutes. It wasn’t until after they’d broken apart, with him helping her off the bed so they could both get dressed, that a sobering thought occurred to her.

“You know,” she said, uncomfortably clearing her throat as she pulled her pants up over her hips, “given what I know of your past… I’ll understand if you don’t feel the same. About the sex, I mean. Well, that and--”

“Don’t get me wrong,” he said, interrupting her before she could mention Milah, the love he had lost and practically ruined his life for. “I loved Milah and we had many wonderful experiences together, but,” he took her hands in his and gazed at her in a way she thought she might drown in those blue depths, “nothing as ever amazing as… this.”

Guiding her back to the bed, they sat on its edge and he further confided, “I think Milah and I always had a part of ourselves held back from the other. Regardless of how we felt, we knew it was wrong. We knew we weren’t free to truly love one another, and since having met you, I’ve come to realize something.”

“What?”

Flicking up his gaze, he said something she never would have expected. “How alike her husband and I truly were.”

Emma blanched. “What do you mean?”

Running his thumb over the backs of her knuckles, he paused for a long moment. Emma could tell this revelation was not easy for him. Perhaps he was still trying to find a way to verbalize it. Sensing he needed time, she waited patiently for him to continue.

“She belonged to him. That’s what he always said,” he relayed, haltingly, from the memories he was dredging up. “She belonged to him. Her husband.” Pulling himself back into the here and now, he focused on her once more and a sad smile ghosted across his lips. “Milah used to assure me that despite the fact she was married, she belonged to me, and I took that to heart. I started to feel like she did belong to me, and I was wrong for doing so. Not because she was married, but because… a woman should not belong to anyone. She was not an object to possess, anymore than you are.” His Adam’s apple bobbed, and his attention turned towards the door of their cell. “He thought you were his to possess. I see that now.”

“Who?”

“The Lost One who came in here when Pan threatened to have another fulfill his demented wishes.”

Her gasp pulled his attention back towards her, and she felt as though her heart might hammer its way out of her chest as he told her, “I think he has a connection to you, Swan. Like the other Lost One has towards me. I think you know him, because I am certain he knows you.”

“How?” she asked, breathlessly. “How do you know--”

“He wanted you,” Killian begrudgingly told her. “But more than that, it was like he felt he had a right to have you. I could see a longing in his eyes, as though he knew… knew what having you would be like.”

Emma opened her mouth to respond, her mind racing with the implications of Killian’s words, but before she could say anything he took her face in his hands and the look in his eyes stole her breath away.

“You may have given me your consent. You might even think I had a right to do what I did in obeying Pan’s rules in order to safeguard your body and your dignity, but you do not belong to me, Swan. You are not mine to do with as I wish.” Pressing his forehead to hers, he murmured, “But I hope you might feel as though you belong with me, as I feel I belong with you. That we belong together, not to each other.” Swallowing thickly, he pulled back and softly whispered, “I love you, Emma.” Then captured her lips before she could reply.

Part Eight

#csff #cs ff #cs fic #cs au #pan says...#heed the warnings #words by hollye

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punkshort · 1 month

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obviously you can’t give spoilers about ikwya. the tag purposefully doesnt say who does the infidelity cuz that’s how you the writer want it to be. i understand and respect your decision 100%. ive been cheated on and it completely destroyed me so i can’t even get my self to read anything like that. especially if it’s done by the male and if they’re married. i don’t think they’re married but im not sure who does the cheating but i can’t take any chances. i wish i could read another one of your beautiful series but ill be supporting you from the sidelines. also i love your other series with sherif joel 🖤.

Oh, thank you so much! No stress, I don't want you to read it if you might find it triggering. What I can tell you is there will be a happy ending, and whoever does the cheating does not have sex with another person. I'm not sure if that helps you at all or makes it worse but I will definitely be putting a disclaimer on that chapter.

I don't think I explicitly stated it or not but reader and Joel are not married, they are just in a long term relationship. If you wanted to shoot me a message, I can tell you the basic premise of the infidelity, but if you think even that would be too much, don't worry about it. I totally understand, that's why I try to label all my work appropriately.

#ask #anon ask #ikwya fic

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imogenkol · 10 months

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— WIP WEDNESDAY

tagged by the lovely @inafieldofdaisies

no pressure tags: @marivenah @sstewyhosseini @socially-awkward-skeleton @adelaidedrubman @aceghosts @voidika @shegetsburned @florbelles @detectivelokis @corvosattano @jackiesarch @kyber-infinitygems @simonxriley @jinfromyarikawa @theelderhazelnut @v0idbuggy + anyone else that would like to share a wip!

In a shocking turn of events, I actually started writing a bit for Lorna! No clue where it’s gonna go, but I’ve been inspired by my recent gameplay

Lorna laid her foot into the gas pedal and reveled in the purr of the engine on the open road. On a bright and sunny day like this, the black paint of her car would bake her from the inside out, but with all the windows rolled down and the wild wind in her dark, choppy hair, she wasn't bothered by it. Her favorite classics blasted through the stereo and she could almost pretend it was just a regular old Sunday afternoon. Almost.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lorna noticed movement in the sky. She glanced out of the driver’s side and spotted one of the cult’s dogfighters circling in the distance. They were too far away to cause her any trouble, but she kept moving. She wasn’t in the mood to tempt fate with that thing.

Just as her anxiety began to fade from the looming threat, she turned her attention back to the road. She peaked over the crest of a hill and saw a thin column of black smoke next to a line of white trucks about a couple hundred yards out. Another goddamn barricade.

“God forbid I drive a fuckin’ mile in this county,” Lorna grumbled to herself. She slammed on the brakes, turning the steering wheel with a screech of rubber on asphalt to place her vehicle perpendicular on the road.

Lorna swung the car door open impatiently and walked around to retrieve her sniper rifle from the trunk. Picking the Peggies off from a distance always seemed the best strategy for her. Or maybe she just enjoyed watching them scurry for cover through her scope.

The long barrel of her rifle rested on the roof of her beloved 1970 Kimberlite ZZT as she took aim. It had never been that pristine of a ride to begin with, but every bullet hole, dent, and scratch from the cult left her as furious as seeing her fellow deputies in peril. Add it to the list of things they’ll pay for, she silently vowed. I’ll sure as hell make ‘em feel it.

Lorna’s bullets found the skulls of three Peggies before they even noticed what happened. Another man tripped over himself while he tried to scramble away. She put him down with a shot in the back. It might not have been the classiest kill, but she was too tired to fight honorably anymore.

“Maybe don’t block the damn road, dumbass,” She said under her breath and aimed at the last man standing. Almost done.

This Peggie had a handgun in his grip, but he didn’t aim it at Lorna. She saw his arm shoot upwards and they both pulled their triggers at the same exact time. His body went down. The flare went up.

“Shit.”

Lorna’s head jerked behind her to where she saw the plane a few minutes earlier. The aircraft in the distance immediately changed course in her direction. Its chrome plating flashed so brightly in the sun that it made her squint. She had about fifteen seconds tops before it converged on her position.

With the barricade opened, she might stand a chance to flee. There were enough pines to make it too difficult for the pilots to get a clear shot. But Lorna realized she didn’t want to run. If she wanted Eden’s Gate to take her seriously – to think twice about the power they held over Hope County – well, Lorna would have to continue pulling off extraordinary feats to keep their attention.

“Oh, fuck it,” she groaned.

The deputy marched down the middle of the road. Away from her car. Away from any cover whatsoever. She wanted them to see her as clearly as she saw them. Then she knelt on one knee and hefted her rifle up, staring down the scope and watching the plane draw closer. In order to get the best opportunity, she would have to wait until the last possible second.

They spotted her. Lorna saw the tip of the plane dip into an almost nosedive, their guns aligned and ready to fire. Her finger hovered over the trigger as the sensation of her heartbeat overtook her whole body like a heavy drum being struck inside a silent opera house.

They got within range and Lorna heard the whirl of the plane’s weaponry. A few bullets peppered the road around her, but her coiled muscles kept her locked in place. The closer they got, the more accurate their aim was. She needed to see the shape of the pilot’s head at least.

“Come on, come on,” she mumbled through clenched teeth.

Finally, she made out a silhouette in the cockpit and fired. With a small spark, she saw her bullet ricochet off the metal frame of the aircraft. Miss. It swerved left and circled for another attack. Lorna shifted her weight in frustration and leaned back into the stock of her rifle. She was determined, even if it took the entire magazine to take this damn plane down.

The plane lined up once more and didn’t hesitate to begin firing on the lone deputy. Lorna wouldn’t wait either. Don’t think too hard or you’ll fuck up your aim, a familiar gravel-rough voice echoed in her head along with the memory of the comforting scent of tobacco. She didn’t really need to see the pilot to know where they were. All she had to do was fire into the cockpit and have faith.

Her finger gently squeezed the trigger and the kickback punched into her shoulder. This time, there was no spark. Lorna blinked and the aircraft suddenly dipped downward and spiraled out of control. She tracked the plane’s descent all the way into the field to her left. A broad grin gradually came across her face as it tore up the soil and brush with a loud crash, the accompanying fireball more satisfying than the illegal mortars her father would buy for the Fourth of July.

Lorna let out a sigh of relief and straightened, nodding at her own accomplishment. “That’s fucking right.”

One less buzzard off her back. Not a bad day’s work.

#my writing #oc insp: lorna holt #based on true events #aka when I don't suck at the viddy game #this was really fun to write and I hope I get struck by more inspo soon #especially when she finds her cousin #he's in the bliss rn and no one knows cause they thought he just ran away :/

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tarrenterror25 · 1 year

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HAPPY 100 FOLLOWERS, i am so proud of you!

i think i picked my poison perfectly and know its gonna be great! could i get din djarin, post apocalyptic with the “Close your eyes for me.” line?

Thank you so much 😭💕💕

Oh, I was hoping someone would pick Din and this setting!! I threw it on the list specifically with him in mind! This one is a lil action packed and I hope you like it 💕

Thank you so much for sending me a request, friend! ✨

100 follower celebration

Din Djarin x Reader

Din Djarin + Post Apocalyptic + "Close your eyes for me."

Tags: violence, space guns, very vague and implied harm/death

The air is arid; dirt and sand swirl in the dry wind. Your helmet, armor, and gear have been modified to stand the conditions; the lack of moisture, the chance of toxins, and the dangerous people hardened from the life-changing disaster that brought about The New World, a galactic wasteland.

Before you and Din is a derelict mountain of vehicles, spacecraft, and machinery. The two of you are just looking for some parts to get your speeder bikes up and running again. The parts they require have long since gone extinct so you two have been cobbling together the necessary components from whatever you salvage. This wreckage is practically a gold mine.

You had found a container of fuel, "starfire" The New World called it. It made your thrusters spark with flames like a star, hence the name.

Unfortunately, someone else had their eye on the container and tried to forcibly take it from you. The scuffle brought you to now; your helmet removed and a blaster pressing into the side of your head. Din stood across from you, holding his amban phase pulse blaster at the ready.

The bandit uses you like a shield and shuffles backwards, trying to make it to his own speeder.

"Sorry, Din," you say and wince as the bandit presses the blaster hard into your temple.

"Shut it!" the bandit snaps.

"It's gonna be okay," Din says calmly through his vocoder, his finger resting on the trigger of his rifle. "Let 'em go and we pretend this didn't happen."

"Not a chance!" the bandit spits out. "I don't want you getting any ideas! Now stand down or I shoot both of ya!"

"Din," you breathe as the thief continues backing towards his speeder.

"I know," Din breathes out as he slowly shuffles close with every step the bandit takes back.

You know this thief will shoot you and shoot Din or he'll get away and bring his crew back with him. But you know there isn't a good shot anyone can get from where the bandit hides behind you. But you know Din can.

"Hey," Din says calling your attention to him. "Do you trust me?"

You can't see his eyes due to the helmet, but you can feel it in your bones what he means. He wouldn't even try this if he thought it might hurt you.

You nod.

The bandit pulls back the hammer on his blaster. "I mean it! Get back!" he shouts.

Din makes sure his rifle is tucked into his arm just right as he looks down the sights.

"Close your eyes for me," Din says to you.

You shut your eyes and take a deep breath.

You hear the bandit shouting and then the sound of a trigger clicking and a blaster firing.

#100 follower celebration #din djarin x reader #mando x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin drabble #din djarin #the mandalorian

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astuteabstractionist · 1 year

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i forgot that "putting a post under specific tags" leads to "people looking at the specific tags will see your post". so uh, hi! im not great at writing or talking, but i hope those of you who followed will enjoy.

(very long ramble under the cut)

anyways, ive been exploring the east branch the past... week? i think? ive been absolutely enthralled by this area. im such a sucker for strange and nonsensical places. exploring the various random rooms feels like travelling in a dream. id love to get out some graph paper sometime and try recording my path like you would in an old-school dungeon crawler. i think itd be very funny seeing just how lost i can get.

the tape recordings in the vents are maybe my favorite part though. its always a joy clicking on a vent and having the brief russian-roulette moment of "will this be of relevance to what im seeing or will this be smash mouths all star?" ive been caught off guard by the louder version many, many times. it never fails to amuse me. i believe ive seen all of the logs, but with how much there is in this branch i wouldnt be surprised to find a new one.

the memories im still not done with. last i checked i believe i was at... 110 out of 294? im excited to find out if its possible to get all of them, and what happens if you do. it is very difficult to accomplish this im realizing, since the counter depletes seemingly at random. this might be an entirely fruitless endeavor, but im nothing if not always down for a good challenge :)

i think the most eyecatching piece of the east branch is the chatlogs between wodin and the intern. when i first read through the entire thing, and i was meant to descend into the coffin, i declined (there was a vent in the room and i wanted to get the popup out of the way to read the transcript) and was then unable to trigger that dialogue popup again... which left me stuck wandering the rooms until i refreshed. whoops. its alright though, just gave me another opportunity to collect some more memories.

on my most recent venture, the coffin was present in the center from the very beginning, and almost immediately after starting to explore, a window popped up with some messages to wodin from the closer. while i did very much enjoy reading the contents, it did take me... around twenty minutes to screenshot them all? it was slightly nauseating trying to scroll down, since it kept shooting me back up to the top of the log whenever i tried to read the bottom-most message :( i did manage to screenshot them all eventually though, so i was able to actually read them all. im still super curious what it mightve been that triggered those changes in that run! i dont think i did anything different, other than play on a friday. maybe that was it.

god, theres so so much more i could say, this might be my favorite branch thus far. despite how much ive seen, i still feel like i havent even come close to seeing it all!

oh whoof. i didnt realize how long this was, ill need to put all of this under a readmore. hm. tl;dr, ive been having a boatload of fun exploring the east branch. if you havent done so yet, i highly suggest venturing into it for yourself. its like exploring a kaleidoscope maze within a dream. 10/10 experience

#mail received #zampanio #zampaniosim #zampaniosim east #hmmm... next post might be about east east #i wanted to write about east first though since it really did capture my interest

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littlefroginthegarden · 5 months

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Sold to Heartsteel 7/24

look at part 1 for tags (also you should obv start there with reading)

damn this is really getting good now, really feeling it rn... wait for some spice

Part 7

“Would!” Ezreal screams when Kat sees Patrick for the first time.

“We all know.” Yone answers, rolling his eyes.

Sett laughs “Fucking bottom.” and immediately grabs Aphelios close so he can’t jab him in the ribs again. Aphelios squirms but leans back when Sett starts kissing his neck. I slightly blush, feeling like I’m somehow invading their privacy. Looking away, I catch Kayn staring too. He must be used to this and clearly doesn’t feel guilty about looking.

Apparently I wasn’t the only person who noticed because Ezreal leans down between us and whispers “Ha gayyyyy!”. He quickly pulls back to avoid Kayn’s attempt to slap him.

When we get to the scene with Kat’s poem, I try to hold back but I can’t watch this without crying. Luckily everyone is too focused on the movie (or Aphelios’ neck in Sett’s case) to notice the tears silently running down my cheeks. Or so I thought. Suddenly I feel Kayn tap my shoulder and when I look over he’s holding up a tissue. I quickly grab it and look away but his focus is already back on the movie. Trying to subtly brush away my tears, I hope nobody else noticed. I’m always very quick to cry during movies and everyone always treated it as something to be embarrassed about. I hope Kayn doesn’t bring it up after the movie.

It’s so cute how invested the boys are in the movie, yelling at different characters to get their shit together and all cheering when they finally make up in the end.

“Yoooo we should do a binge night to be honest!” Ezreal yells after the movie ends.

Kayn looks over to his left, giving Sett a toothy grin before looking up to Ezreal. “I think if we force these two to be here for twenty more minutes they’ll start fucking right here on the couch.” Sett shoots him a dirty look but Aphelios seems way too out of it to even notice what Kayn said.

“So what, wouldn’t be the first time.” Ezreal laughs and I blush, I thought this kind of stuff only happened in the fanfics I read in bed before sleeping.

“We all know you don’t mind, Ez, but remember that we have a guest who might not be comfortable having to watch that.” Yone says, being the voice of reason in this group.

“Would you mind, pretty boy?” I can feel Ezreal's breath hot against my ear, causing goosebumps all over my body. “You can’t tell me you’re not at least a little bit fruity, huh?”

I must be red as a tomato as I try to answer “Uh– I’d love to keep the movie night going for a bit, it’s really fun with y’all. And uh– I mean I don’t really care.” I stare at the TV screen intently, not able to look anyone in the eyes. “I can just look away, it’s fine.” I quietly add.

Ezreal chuckles “See, he doesn’t mind. So can we just watch something? It’s not my fault Aphelios has a humiliation kink.” He quickly ducks when Sett throws a cushion at him but it seems more teasing because after that he goes right back to covering Aphelios neck with bruises.

“We could finally do that Arcane binge y’all have wanted to do for so long.” K’Sante chimes in.

“Oh fuck yes!” Suddenly Kayn sits up straight and his eyes are glowing. “Please, I need to rewatch it so bad!”

K’Sante looks over to Yone who just nods, then turns to me. “What do you think, Hwei? You fine with watching that?”

“I couldn’t watch it yet so I’d love to!” I admit. They all look at me like I’m crazy and Kayn scrambles for the remote. “Well, then it’s set, we have to change that!”

“Do you have any triggers that we should warn you about?” Yone asks.

I’m surprised, I’d never met anyone so considerate. Quickly thinking about the question I answer “Not really, maybe if there’s transphobia?” – “Or parental abuse?” I quickly add.

“Hmm there’s not really any transphobia. There’s a pretty strict mother but nothing too bad I think. Is that okay with you?” He asks.

“Yeah sure.”

K’Sante gets up, looking into the round. “Let’s order some food before we start, okay? What does everyone want? I’ll call them.” I am so glad he brings this up, I’ve been hungry the whole time since I haven’t eaten anything yet today, and it’s slowly becoming really bad.

“Why are you such a boomer? Let’s just order through the app, way easier!” Ezreal says, giving his phone to Yone, who puts in his order and hands the phone around. When it’s my turn, I hesitate. I barely have any money with me and ordering is super expensive. Ezreal must have noticed as he leans down to me. “Don’t worry, I’ll pay. Just get whatever you want. I mean it, don’t be cheap, okay?” He smiles and I scroll through the app before I decide to get a medium vegan pizza.

After everyone is done ordering, Kayn starts the first episode.

Dear friend across the river My hands are cold and bare

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starfall-spirit · 1 year

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These Two Hearts

Most Romance Week Prompts are based off of a song.

Day 5: Tracy Byrd's Keeper of the Stars

Honestly, the song is more for the ship than this specific prompt. Keeper of the Stars is established Gwynriel in my opinion.

SJMRW Prompt: Feelings Realization

Ship: Gwynriel

Summary: Feelings are realized during a late night training session.

She had done it. Gwyneth Berdara had finally flown the nest.

Since Sangravah, the young priestess had mastered her fears and hesitations, becoming a warrior and master of her own fate. That achievement showed, as she took her throwing knives to the standing dummy that evening as star after star winked into existence, crowning Velaris and the waters beyond in glittering night.

She didn’t know why she came out here. It had been ages since she felt the need to sneak up to the training ring when the rest of the House was asleep. Maybe it was the fact she couldn’t sink a throwing blade for the life of her.

“Restless first night, then?”

She paused. There was that too. Though she’d graduated from the library’s cradle of safety, settling into the House of Wind for more than a Valkyrie sleepover was too foreign to give her an easy night. Not that the shadowsinger questioning her needed to know that. “Only because I’m thinking about how things went today. If I don’t get this down on my own I’ll make a fool of myself tomorrow morning.”

A soft hum left him as he approached. “We can’t have that, now can we?” His fingers just brushed her right wrist and she gave a nod, granting him permission to touch—show—to demonstrate. A warm hand wrapped around the back of hers, his finger and thumbs adjusting her hold on the blade. “Your stance is correct,” he murmured, a warm breath fanning a few wind-whipped strands of hair that had freed themselves from her braid. “Your feet, at least. But your posture is too tense. You need to relax to give your throw accuracy.”

“Oh.” Such a simple word, yet it sounded so ridiculously breathless.

He stepped back and she almost grieved the loss of his warmth against the early spring night. What was wrong with her? He was her instructor—her friend, and— “Relax your body and follow the throw like I taught you earlier,” he instructed, summoning a fae light a bit nearer the target, arms crossed as he waited with impressive patience considering the hour she opted to “train”.

Mimicking the form Nesta had so easily mastered this morning, Gwyn threw the blade, striking the very bottom of the target. “Well, you hit the target this time. And it stayed.” She groaned. “I mean it. A few more minutes and you’ll have your half-spin in ship shape. He returned to his position behind her, this time adjusting the angle of her wrist. “Don’t throw as hard as you can. You have to find the balance. Speed, strength, height.”

She nodded, waiting for him to back up again. The next throw was significantly better. She whipped around with a grin, startling when she found him closer than she expected. “Excellent.”

The swell of pride she often felt when her training improved faded as another feeling took its place. A feeling triggered by heat and proximity. Were Azriel any other male, she knew she’d be scrambling for an exit, but this feeling—that flutter in her chest was far from unpleasant. And she knew.

Then and there, without a doubt, she knew she was falling for the shadowsinger. She could only hope he’d catch her in the end.

"Gwyn?"

"Hmm?" She snapped back to focus, finding his brow scrunched in worry.

"I was just saying tomorrow you might be ready to start on a different style of throwing. Slightly more advanced."

"Oh. That sounds lovely."

He nodded, though his frown deepened. "Get some rest, Berdara. I'll catch you at sunrise."

"Right. Sunrise." Before he could take to the skies, she snatched his wrist in hers. "Thank you, Azriel. For being there."

He smiled. "Always."

~~~~~

Tag List: @sjmromanceweek // @s-uppertime // @faeriequeensuriel // @pandavelaris

Shoot me a message/comment/ask if you'd like to be added or removed.

#sjmromanceweek2023 #these two hearts #song inspired #keeper of the stars #feelings realization #song choices have been more vibes than themes #honestly

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kusanagionthetelevi · 6 months

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red alert! new project sekai rp blog!

as you make your way through the vast spectrum that is project sekai roleplay blogs, you find yourself running into...

...a television?

what's that doing here?

you attempt waving at it, but as you move closer, you notice the confusion in their face as they try to process everything that had just happened, to no avail.

a dialogue box suddenly appears from the screen...

[alt text: an animated gif of a custom mint-themed earthbound dialogue box that reads: wha.. what am i doing here… /end id]

(ooc intro under the cut)

hi there! i'm no one's favorite inazuma eleven fan @nanairomelette! i made this sideblog as a sorry excuse to overuse the earthbound text labs site because it's beautiful. sorry not sorry

general? info:

i prefer being called noa, but i use other names too :3 (allister, fei, j, sol)

i use the same pronouns i use for nene, as well as thou/🎲/nine/six pronouns !

basic dni (homophobes, transphobes, naz1s, ableists, racists, etc) and anti mogai or neopronouns. also if you sexualize any of the pjsk characters you WILL be blocked on sight. this excludes some of the npcs and kaimeiluka as they're all of age but i will likely avoid interacting with you since i'm a minor

speaking of sexualization, please don't send anything suggestive in the askbox! nene is a minor, and so am i.

this is generally a self indulgent blog so expect a lot of headcanons. one of those hcs are he/they/six/waltz nene so just a heads up i guess

although this is less important, i'd like to note that i also hc nene as a genderfluid transmasc aroace lesbian :]

oh ANF ANFD AND. i will also use pronoun hcs for other project sekai characters and i'll make a masterlist when i feel like it.

even then, i'll use the pronouns you use for the character you're roleplaying as when the time comes that we interact!

also i already have this in my description but i'd like to add a trigger warning for unreality as this is a roleplay blog, as well as an obligatory no this account is in no way officially affiliated with sega nor colorful palette!

and since i'm using gifs (image format) as a means to communicate, i'll do my best to maximize alt texts on this blog. feel free to criticize me if i'm missing out or pointing out too many details in my alt texts!

i might not be too active on this account as 1. my current sp/in is inazuma eleven so i don't really dwell much on pjsk anymore 2. school is stressing me the hell out

also i have a few negative experiences with roleplaying and i'm a bit scared of interacting with strangers so please bare with me

some stuff i think you should know:

this is basically an au where for whatever reason, rui's inventions accidentally get nene stuck inside a damn old television. as of late, she has not found a way to get him out of there

that's like. the main premise if we're talking about nene, however i haven't really decided the rest. i'm thinking the main plot would include project sekai characters inside random things (ie. miku inside your washing machine)

feel free to add more to this mess of an au, i'm open to anything, just shoot me an ask either here or on my main account!

tag masterlist:

#nene live broadcasting -> text? posts #live nene reaction -> in-character reblogs #nene rebroadcasting -> in-character self-reblogs #dial KUS4N4G1-N3N3-720-06 -> asks #noa live broadcasting -> ooc/mod posts/reblogs (includes self-reblogs)

to conclude this post, i'd like to link the project sekai rp blog masterlist down below! nice to meet you all, and let's have fun!

#project sekai #kusanagi nene #pjsk rp #intro #pinned #noa live broadcasting #ooc: i'll make this more presentable/organized/aesthetic later

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castle-dominion · 10 months

Text

Undead again 4x22

breaking in TO CASTLE'S PLACE? IS THAT A DOG? OH NO ALEXIS! Not a dog, maybe a gun? also who has their device zoomed that far out? Who goes page-by-page instead of scrolling? Oh it's dad. Lol I miss their laser tag games RC: Wait. Let me savor this. I haven't gotten the drop on you since you were ten. Oh, this feels like…victory.

Aw he doesn't force the game when alexis wants to talk. Good. I remember she said stuff about oxford a few seasons ago. s2 I think. Girl I LOVE living at home during college. It is great. I brought home litres upon litres of soup my first block of my first term. I couldn't eat all of it by myself! Alexis you are so wrong. Adults need play too!

RC: No, it's not [just a game]. It's--it's a time-honored family tradition that we've been honoring since Alexis could wrap her little finger around a trigger! Also a thousand points is a lot less than you think when you play for years ADULTS NEED PLAY TOO

Yeah it IS kind of your fault rick. Yeah! At least let her know why! This man is surprisingly emotionally stunted I love martha so much But also Rick you probably should check with the mystery man that it's ok for you to leave.

KB, to esposito, who has drank coffee often throughout the show: You said you didn't like coffee. JE, the ex-military pig who made fun of his friend for drinking warm milk with honey before bed bc it helped his GF sleep: I like vanilla lattes! Wow becks is pretty af

SP: Ah, our intrepid heroes have arrived. And Castle. I love him so much RC: Ah, Perlmutter. I will treasure these special moments we've shared. KB: *did he just drop a hint he's leaving?*

SP: It's not just a bite mark. Look at the skin. You see how it's torn? The killer latched on and shook like a pit bull trying to tear off the flesh. KB: *wow that was a violent description* Ooh castle knows the right stuff about clothing. Neat.

4am is p early lol. Ah the bakers & foreign traders of the world. Oddball how? Charlie also got murked & HIS body was dumped?

RC: Well, that's a shame. This case had some real promise. Savage bite marks, reconstruction era clothing. Gets some mystery here, a whiff of intrigue. Now we're just slapping cuffs on some disgruntled employee. KB: RC: Just wanted this one to be special. He's just going to be naked I swear.

DANG HE'S LOCKED UP

RC: Relax, Charlie. Relax. We're cops. Charlie Coleman: You're a cop? KB: Yeah. CC: Is that your gun? [Beckett raises her eyebrows.] KB: Yeah. CC: You need to shoot me. Do it now! [Charlie squeezes his eyes shut and presents his chest to her.]

CC: he stared right past me with this weird look on his face and then he said, "What the hell is that?"! RC: What the hell was it?

"yeah sure I promise" not very convincing babe CC: Promise that you will use your gun on me when I start to turn. KB: !?!?!? That's a heck of a bite mark

the 911 operator would assume there are drugs involved & try to get him to come down from his high tbh. RC, totally correct: I believe he believes it.

RC: Oh! Wai-- um… Sorry. Let me make sure I understand so that I might properly relish this moment. You're saying… JE, turning to him in, idk disgust? annoyance? well his face is so great here I think I'll clip it: *thinking: don't touch me* RC, talking too slow: …the evidence shows Charlie and the victim both were bitten by an as yet unknown third party. JE, overlapping & speaking fast: That's what I just sai-- RC, interrupting & talking slow & AGAIN TOUCHING ESPOSITO: Perhaps even… JE: *looking so pissed that castle keeps touching him* RC: …a mindless, shuffling, …undead third party. KB: Castle, just stop. There's no such thing as a zombie. KR, entering: Guys…you gotta see this. Oh he's def going to show "proof" of zombies. I love how ryan slowly has gotten more & more castle-like throughout the show, he believes more things & spins more theories btw he is hot af holy crap I need to grab a pic of this

RC: Our killer's a zombie! *high fives some random cop who probably didn't know that he was going to claim the killer was a freaking zombie*

castle is surprisingly calm. I thought he would get into the bunker he def owns.

RC: Security camera caught him in all his putrefying glory. MR: Woo-oo. I don't supposed you downloaded this video by chance? RC: Absolutely not. That video is police property. It would be very, very wrong of me to…get a screen grab of it and e-mail it to myself.

MARTHA LURED HIM IN & THEN SHE FRICKING DESCENDED FROM THE CEILING

It has been a full day since they caught the case? bc rick was with martha & alexis there & alexis said "my act yesterday" & now they are wearing different clothes but they barely did anything yesterday. well they did a bunch of security footage so nvm. & they had to calm down a guy enough to bring him to the station.

Why didn't he take his car home tho? when he got bit?

Need to clip this scene with ryan & coleman. (btw his fidgeting? point for the adhd headcanon) & his pretty smile. & playing on charlie's level. *puts it back on ryan's chest & closes the door on himself* & then ryan's FACE it's so GOOD

RC: Charlie has not been wrong yet Me: ... That's true & then castle has a nice leather suit jacket, beckett has a pretty yellow leather jacket, the boys are pretty enough

KR: I mean,.. he does,,, look like a real zombie? JE: "A real zombie"? I'm embarrassed for you, bro. I wish my lipreading was better I figured it out KR: Is that true? RC: ye

JE: Only in New York could some guy dress like a friggin' zombie and walk down the street unnoticed. Yeah lol he's right

Howston? JE: I'll tell you where he went: Booty call. "chica" That's a heck of a name, Mastroianni

Heck of a ring I like espt's shirt bc it's smth I would wear but it is smth I wear bc I live in canada & have scars, not smth I'd wear to work The way they interrogate her... continuing to ask her questions, figuring out tom knew where he worked, standing, it is an interesting choice for them to be standing

This man is kind of interesting looking. I like his outfit How do you know the height of the zombie? "what the hell is that?" Who is at the library at that time???

RC: What about recently deceased friends and coworkers? But castle, they would not be wearing 1870s garb Yeah for sure, psychological issues thinking he's a zombie KB: What kind of chemical? KR: Uh, I won't even begin to try to pronounce it, but it is used in three factories in New York and New Jersey. (it turns out to be a relatively easy-to-pronounce chemical) Ryan is saying this to castle not to becket... interesting

Wow & it is dark out?? RC: All I know is that normal people don't come to places like this at 2:00 AM in the morning. I can't hear anything but I'm also deaf They totally should have been able to hear the moaning too (I've totally done things where some friends & I start running yelling "run" & then people come along with us. It is not that they are stupid, it is that they trust other human beings. We get a whole bunch of ppl running. How did they get behind them too? I totally would have shot earlier tbh, she would have gotten in trouble for shooting a civillian

Lol the one zombie in the wheelchair. Glad to see a disabled person & their friend enjoying a thing like this. It sounds like a fun game of tag lol. But when they get turned they don't have a chance to dress up as much as the rest of the zombies ALL of them are coming with you? HE USES THE WORD OUTSTANDING

Love all the zombies in the police station giving statements in their get-up. Reminds me of that one job interview I had. Vampires are sexy, zombies are also cool Not a supernatural creature tho becks.

JE, not someone I'd expect to have fashion tips: I don't know about those shoes with that top. I'm just saying. I'd have went open-toe.

JE: Oh, and guess what? None of these knuckleheads are real zombies. KR: I think what my colleague means to say is that no one recognizes our zombie from the video or our victim David Lock.

Teacher Zombie: He definitely wasn't part of our group, I can tell you that. Zombie Paul: High AF (& yk what good for him) KB: Paul, are you high right now? ZP: Whoa! Whoa, hey now, uh…where is that …(nervous chuckle)…coming from? No. No, of course not.

Teachers can have lives & have fun. Oh anthropology? Yeah of course he's a zombie TZ: I believe our fascination with zombies is a cultural phenomenon, a commentary on the inner numbness of modern life. RC: *it all makes sense now*

Ooh sexy run & jump into there, love it OH NO MAN'S DEAD lmao his face when he needs to take the zombie's pulse. clipping that.

PERLMUTTER MY BELOVED SP: We're all meat, Castle. Get over it. KB: Well, the question is: who killed him? SP: Isn't that always the question?. Ok castle, zombies can only exist for about two hours after death, then they are no longer able to be zombies.

WHAT THE HECK HE'S ALIVE OR UNDEAD OR SMTH nine to get out of the system lol. btw I totally thought perlmutter was telling him to call 911 Castle is hella calm rn (btw cecil fox)

KB: So, based on the latest report from the ER, Kyle Jennings was transferred up to ICU. He is stable, but under sedation. KR: I'm telling you, that guy was dead. JE: Remind me never to choke on a chicken bone in front of you. KR: Hey! You checked that guy, so did the paramedics. JE: :| KB: Whoa, you guys. I'm sure that there's a medical explanation for it. RC: Oh, there's an explanation, alright. KB: Besides that one. btw it is the next morning & they are in the same clothes from last night. At least caskett are. RC: Well then, what was his motive for murder, Detective Esposito? KR: *crosses his arms & looks at espt, def mimicking castle* & ryan's hair is getting longer & he's so freaking cute I think I have a problem. (I mean they are all good... y'all would fuck a fence if it was white... I hope I'm not one of those ppl)

RC: Or he's a zombie killer with a zombie motive.

RC: (whisper to Ryan) Tasty brains. KR: (whisper) You know, Castle, do you really believe in all this zombie stuff, because I-I would swear on my nana's grave that Kyle Jennings was dead. ((You would swear on your NANA'S GRAVE that's insane)) RC, putting a hand on ryan's shoulder/neck: (whisper) No. You know what I do believe in? Driving Beckett crazy. [They both smile. Castle pat's ryan] KR: (whisper) Y'know, I have to say, it's good to see you guys hitting it off again. RC: *I am planning on leaving… sad* I need to clip this one

WAIT IS IT NOT THE NEXT DAY? IT WAS SO BRIGHT BUT OUTSIDE THE HOSPITAL IT IS DARK

Except they all said he did not go on the zombie walk... though his shoe chemicals proved he was there

She would def believe that he was lying oh no poor kyle. At least she tells him to get a lawyer. RC: It is with a sad heart I say that that man is no zombie. Oh & they are not talking about Kyle here. RC: When a life-altering moment occurs… people remember. I like how they are at least talking about it finally, even if they are talking about it through kyle. I love perlmutter. He looks So Annoyed to see them! Def take a pic of this

KB: Perlmutter! SP: *looks up like "heck this"* KB: What are you doing here? SP: I came to…tend to one of my patients, Kyle Jennings. RC: Uh…do you think that's such a good idea? SP: I'll have you know I'm perfectly capable of treating living patients, I simply prefer not to. ((lmao I love him)) I made an exception here because the results of his blood work are quite unusual. KB: What do you mean? SP: Kyle Jennings had scopolamine ((easy to say)) in his system, which in small doses is used to treat motion sickness. In larger doses, it acts on the central nervous system to promote compliant and suggestible behavior. Truth serums aren't real... or this... ok then this is the way things work. But you can't be THAT suggestible...

Ryan touches her shoulder & it means smth to me. KR: Uh, I got started on that, and I did some research on…scopolamine. *smiles* RC: Nice. *you pronounced it, good for you mr used-to-be-a-drug-cop* The zombie drug? that's adderall lol. Actually no, that is adhd medication on adhd people WHEN AT A DOSE TOO HIGH. Lower your dose if you need to. talk to your doctor. & you know what? Maybe you are ok with feeling a little bit like a zombie so that you can function.

the one who was high obviously "woah what now?" didn't they show him that pic already tho? btw is charlie still in the holding cells? Oh no wait this is tom, tom is the boyf TW: Detective, I'm pre-law. I--I have no time for regular culture, let alone subculture. But he had an alibi

True, go at him not head-on but sideways! OH NO SHE KILLED HIM

KB: Maybe this is it. What every homicide cop fears: the perfect murder. RC: No. This is not the perfect murder. Can't be. KB: It happens. RC: Not to me. Not unless I've written it.

Esposito coming in at this exact moment... Castle is suddenly concerned. KB: Detective Esposito, please process Mr. Williams and then escort him to his apartment, make sure it's clear, (to tom williams:) and then after that you are on your own.

Oh heeheehee I know this I like this. We have esposito here driving him in & tom afraid af. & THEN SUDDENLY BASEBALL BAT ON THE WINDOW (whose car is that tho?) I like esposito's voice here Gun is scary, esp when u hear the sound go ka-click Wow this is fun. Weird voice tho. & those eyes... I can tell Esposito <3 I wish martha was involved in the directing of it. & it must be hard for actors to play a person who is acting but not perfect at it. They would act too well.

JE: Turn around. [Tom stares at Castle.] JE: (impatient) Turn around. [Esposito flips Tom towards the car and pulls out his cuffs.] JE: (to Castle) I gotta tell you, bro, coming at me like that, almost made me a believer. [Beckett watches Castle step up behind Esposito and growl with the voice modifier.] JE: Stop it. [Esposito shoves Castle away nervously.] JE: Don't do that. You're creeping me out. [Beckett smirks and Castle does another little growl.] DEFINITELY CLIPPING THAT BC IT IS HILARIOUS & I LOVE IT

Hey it's that detective we see sometimes, I don't know his name

Kyle Jennings: Detective, Mr. Castle, I--I don't know how to thank you-- RC: Uh… Let me borrow the zombie outfit for another day, we'll call it even. & THEY ARE USING THE KYLE ANALOGY AGAIN TO TALK ABOUT HER YESSS YES YES YES

Tomorrow & always, the best words on the show

Is that alexis or rick? btw the pic has no background... His hair lol

Martha said it was just a game & you argued It's ok to stay with your family. Love. Castle family <3 <3 <3 I love them

Best two out of three <3! What ending was that... "this isn't over"

Aw that was a great episode! I'm so happy!

Now I have work in an hour IF I get called in & I have chores to do & I should probably record some of that audiobook I haven't touched in a year...

But I might consider getting started on the next episode, though I would have liked to do a bunch of recording to clip on tumblr.

#castle 4x22 #castle 4x22 quote #castle 4x22 spoilers #castle s4 spoilers #the zombie episode

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watercolorfreckles · 3 years

Text

The Villain and His Therapist - Part 4

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

"You know, that shade of pink looks lovely on you," Villain purred, descending the stairs to lean against the kitchen counter.

Juliet paused where she was scrambling eggs in a skillet and glanced down at her attire of soft blue pajama pants and oversized grey sweater. "I'm not wearing any pink," she said slowly, lifting her gaze to look at the Villain.

He'd just come down from a shower, dark locks of hair curling over his forehead. He smelled of her green apple shampoo. It made her insides swoop all funny.

Villain's lips tugged into an easy grin as he took one step closer, two. He paused directly in front of her to lift a hand, brushing his knuckles feather-light against her burning cheek.

"I was referring to your blush. It suits you quite beautifully." His voice was liquid gold. Her skin tingled beneath his touch.

Remembering herself, Juliet swatted his hand away and covered her cheeks with her palms. "I'm not blushing."

He didn't try to hide the amusement on his face.

"Mm, whatever were you thinking about, Doctor Meadows?" Villain took Juliet's hands to gently pry them away from her face, using the hold on her wrists to pull her closer.

Juliet sucked in a soft breath, looking up at him. The sun streaming through the window caught the highlights of his handsome face and illuminated his dark irises, turning them to molten amber.

"I...was...thinking about how gentle you can be. When you calmed me down that night, you were patient and sensitive; you displayed a lot of empathy and care. I'm really proud of you. You've come a long way."

Villain's grin grew a little softer as he tilted his head to the side, studying her face. The way he looked at her used to make her feel like prey being stalked by a lion. Now...it made her feel like she was the only thing in his universe.

Her stomach fluttered.

Juliet swallowed, continuing. "I imagine it isn't easy for you to be so vulnerable. I'm glad that you feel safe enough with me to be soft."

Villain brushed her fringe away from her face, tapping the side of her head. "That psychologist brain of yours never turns off, does it?"

She smiled sheepishly, gaze dipping down to the floor.

Villain's finger hooked under her chin, lifting it gently. "I never said I didn't like it. You are my therapist, after all."

Villain leaned in closer, eliciting the slightest hitch in her breath. He smiled, relishing her response.

His breath ghosted over her lips, leaving them tingling in anticipation.

"Yours?" she asked softly. Her mouth had gone dry.

"Would you like to be?"

Juliet's thoughts were rarely clear on her face. She was difficult to read under the years of training keeping her steady and prepared. Villain wanted to unpick that artificial calm from her; to map her every reaction. He wanted to watch her sigh and blush and smile...

"The eggs are going to burn," Juliet whispered, watching him.

Without taking his eyes off of her, Villain reached over her shoulder, turning off the stove. In one fluid movement, he turned with her, pressing her back against the counter.

If her cheeks were warm before, they were blazing now. Villain smiled again, this time something so fond it dazzled her senses. The world narrowed to just the two of them, flush together.

Juliet's hands fell against Villain's chest, lightly resting against the soft cotton of his shirt.

She breathed in his scent.

"Villain?"

"Mm?" he murmured, the hum of his voice vibrating against her palms.

"When your brother- What he said about how you feel...about me... Is it true?" She held his gaze, holding her breath.

"My sweet Juliet Meadows." His voice alone was enough to melt her. He took one of her hands with deliberate gentleness and placed a kiss against her fingers. "If only I were brave enough to say it out loud."

"You can say it in other ways," Juliet breathed.

His eyes gleamed.

"Oh I intend to," Villain said softly.

Villain's gaze flicked down to Juliet's lips. He kept one hand on her waist, slotting the other into her hair. He leaned in until their lips brushed. Pausing, he seemed to catch himself, probably remembering Juliet's comments in therapy about the importance of healthy communication.

He smiled again, sharp and beautiful. His warm breath grazed her skin while his thumb traced lazy circles against her jaw. "May I?" he whispered, his lips hovering just barely above hers.

Juliet opened her mouth to answer, and-

The door burst open.

Juliet jolted in surprise, panic shooting through her as she gripped Villain's arms before she caught sight of who was really at the door.

The figure was fitted in a deep red super-suit, a black mask concealing his identity.

She relaxed, releasing a breath through gritted teeth. "Hero?"

"Doctor Meadows," Hero said, relief flooding his expression. "I heard what happened to you on the news and with Supervillain's escape, I knew you were in danger so I-"

His eyes narrowed as he seemed to notice Villain for the first time. "You get away from her," he hissed marching closer, crimson beams of tech-powered energy sparking to life in his palms. "Let her go and get out."

Villain hardened at the sight of him in turn, straightening and pulling out an advanced weapon. "Now that's insulting, at least I was invited inside." His voice was smooth and dangerous. Chilling.

A far cry from the man who had held her close and smiled fondly only moments ago.

Juliet stepped between them, holding up a hand in each direction. "Stop."

"You invited him in? Doctor Meadows, he's Supervillain's brother! He's probably here to finish the job for him!"

"Oh that's rich," Villain interjected. "For all your self-righteous monologues begging me to change, to be better, when I actually try, you can't accept it."

"I'm not willing to bet Doctor Meadow's life on your 'moral awakening,'" Hero spat.

"Hero," Juliet said in the no-nonsense voice her job often required her to use. "Take a deep breath. Villain would never hurt me, you don't need to worry about that."

"He-"

"-is in rehabilitation," Juliet finished for him. "He is my patient, just as you are. He has made tremendous progress, you are in no position to discredit his reformation. I promise you that I am safe with him."

Hero stared, studying the pair. Villain's jaw was clenched, glaring hard at the hero. Juliet touched his shoulder and some of the tension immediately dissolved from him.

Hero extinguished the energy beams in his palms, shifting into a less guarded stance. He regarded them for a second longer.

"Alright."

"Alright?"

"You want to prove you have good intentions? Help me find Supervillain and bring him in, for good this time," Hero said. "I can't do it alone."

Villain turned to look at Juliet. She stepped closer, taking his hand as she spoke.

"No. I don't want you to put yourself in a position where your recovery might be compromised again. You're too close to the situation to act rationally, and it would be too much of a trigger for you."

Villain's gaze softened as it landed on her, any hostility in his demeanor vanishing like it had never been there. He brushed her hair back with gentle fingers, leaning in. His thumb dipped down to graze her lips.

Villain kissed her cheek, her chin, the corner of her mouth. He straightened, eyes intent, looking like he wanted to kiss her properly--but not until they were alone.

When time would suspend like frost in the air and the moment would belong solely to the two of them, in the quiet and safety of each other.

Juliet's skin felt cold at the loss of his touch. Dread swirled in the pit of her stomach.

Villain turned to Hero, observing him for a moment before extending a hand to shake. "Deal."

Sorry I haven't posted in so loooong. I kept putting off writing this bc I was worried id mess it up lol. This is officially the longest series I've posted so far (the rest of my snippets have 3 parts or less) so wooo! Let me know if you want to see more :)

General Taglist: @writing-on-the-wahl , @valiantlytransparentwhispers , @distance-does-not-matter , @redbircl , @lilaccatholic , @crazytwentythrees , @thelazywitchphotographer , @deadlygemuwu, @chibicelloking , @lolafaiy , @thinkwrite5 , @putridghost , @tobeornottobeateacher , @sunflower1000 , @bouncyartist , @thanatoastie , @feyriddle , @yet-another-heathen , @silverwhisperer1 , (@distractedlydistracted i think forgot to tag you in the last part, oops)

You're on this list if you've asked to be tagged in any of my stories. Please let me know if you want to be added or removed. :)

Edit: the tags weren't working so I redid them through mobile, let me know if it worked!

#i was editing this in my drafts and it crashed on me so I had to redo all that hahaahha funnn #my writing #writeblr #short story #flash fiction #hero x civilian #hero x villain #villain x hero #civillain x villain #villain x civillian #fiction #superhero #supervillains

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foli-vora · 3 years

Text

more than words, pt.3

A/N: Thank you for all the love! 🥺🥰 overwhelmed by the reaction I’ve had to this story! Super excited that so many of you are coming along for the ride! There is a tag list for this—let me know if you’d like to be added! (I apologise if I’ve missed anyone!) I hope you enjoy! ❤️

Pairing: Francisco ‘Catfish’ Morales x f!reader, best friend!Benny Miller x f!reader

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: swearing, alcohol, general first date nerves that trigger my anxiety x10

pt.1 / pt.2 / pt.4 / pt.5 / pt.6

He was trying to listen. He really was, but God, how many times can you hear the same thing over and over and over again before you start to drift away from the conversation? He knew the answer. He had a very short attention span when it came to certain subjects – he’ll admit that freely – so when you continued to gush about his best friend, his main man, naturally his attention fell to the couple seemingly having an argument by their truck in the parking lot. Hmm… wonder what they’re fighting about? He purses his lips, watching the girl deliver one hell of a slap across her boyfriend’s face and strut away, tears streaking mascara down her face. Cheater. Definitely a cheater.

“Benny? Are you even listening to me?”

His eyes roll back to you, taking in your narrowed eyes and angry chewing as a slice of pizza dangles from your hand. Was he listening? Well, he did for the first few minutes… does that still count?

He finally answers, tone flat and uninterested. “No.”

“Ben.”

He shrugs, gesturing to the scene outside the window with a flick of his head. “Malibu barbie just smacked the shit out of her beau.”

Your head snaps to where he was looking, shamelessly curious. “Cheater?”

“That’s my bet.”

You both fall quiet, watching the strangers play out a scene that really should belong in a cringe-worthy daytime reality show while you chew. It’s almost depressing, how eagerly you both watch someone else’s life seemingly crumble in public. But the longer they scream and cry, the longer they yell and fight, the harder it is to tear your eyes away.

“Shit.” Benny sighs, reclining in the booth and stretching his arms up and behind him once the couple in conflict goes their separate ways. “That was the most interesting thing that happened to me all week.”

“Not me,” you sing with a smile, fondly remembering the phone calls and texts you had been sharing with Frankie the past few days. Benny sighs in irritation, neck cracking as he rolls his head on his shoulders.

“I swear, if you talk any more about Fish, I’m gonna throw myself out of this fuckin’ window.” He levels you with a challenging stare, lips twitching as you eye the glass critically. “I’ll do it, too. Try me.”

Deflating, you sag in your seat and fiddle with the peeling label on your beer bottle, realising with a wave of slight shame that you had been talking about Frankie ever since you sat down at the table. “I’m sorry, Benny. I’m just excited. He seems really cool, and nice, and –”

“Alright then.” He stands abruptly, kneeling on the worn leather to brace a shoulder against the glass panel with a look of severe concentration.

“Okay! I’m sorry, I’m sorry – sit down, you idiot!” Laughing loudly, you tug at his shirt until he sits with a lazy grin and you shake your head. “God, you are such a child, Benjamin.”

He snorts, pinching a cold fry from the basket in the middle of the table and waving it at you. “You love me.”

Grinning, you snatch it from his fingers, and chew it loudly, grinning at his pout. “I sure do, especially when you set me up with your gorgeous fri–”

He groans loudly, “Enough, woman. I’ll throw you out of this fuckin’ window in a minute. Get me another beer.”

“You’re callin’ the wrong friend, angel.” Benny drawls lazily, “I’m no good with these kinds of pep talks.”

“Benny, I’m freaking out, please –”

The car feels small, cramped. The open windows letting in the cool evening air does nothing for you trying to suck in a lungful of oxygen as you pull nervously at your jacket. Have you overdressed? Underdressed? What would he be wearing? You hadn’t been on a first date in months.

“Look, I can almost guarantee you he’s somewhere having this exact conversation with another friend of mine. You’re both stress heads. Just relax – he’s gonna love you.”

You stare vacantly at your steering wheel, swallowing around the lump of anxiety stuck in your throat. “I think I’m gonna puke.”

He snorts in amusement, “Well, if you’re gonna do it, do it now – puking on the poor guy isn’t a first date thing. And don’t forget to rinse your mouth out.”

Leave it to the younger Miller to make you feel ten times worse. “Oh God. Ben –”

“You’ll be fine. Now get out of your car.”

“But –”

“Get. Out. of your car.” He waits, listening intently to the mechanical whirr of your windows as they close, smiling when he hears the loud thump of your car door shutting. “There we go. Now breathe, and get marchin’ – you got this. And don’t call me again – I’m watching a fight. Pay per view isn’t cheap.”

“Right. Sorry. Thanks Benny.”

“Anytime, angel. Have fun.”

You ring your hands as you start walking the short distance to the bar, running through a last-minute check of your appearance. Nothing in your teeth. No stains on your clothes. You fidget with the hem of your skirt, brushing the non-existent dirt from the fabric and making sure it’s not horrifically tucked in to your underwear at the back.

Oh God, your palms are so sweaty. What if he shakes your hand? His hand will slide right off. He’d be mortified. Who even goes for a handshake on a first date anyways? You’re being silly. Everything’s fine. You look great. Did you put deodorant on?

The twisting of your stomach and panicked rush of thoughts thankfully pause when your eyes catch Frankie standing outside the bar, hands buried deep in his pockets and dark eyes flickering around at the passers-by somewhat nervously. When they land on you, the apprehension seems to melt from his shoulders and he grins. Unable to stop the smile creeping on your face in response, you now walk without the sick feeling of anxiety creeping up your throat.

He strides forward to greet you, and for a brief second, you wonder how you should greet him. It’s not like you were strangers, per se, you had been talking on the phone all week, but where did you stand in the physical sense? Certainly not a handshake.

Throwing caution to the wind, you bounce forward and greet him with a hug, hoping to high heaven he doesn’t push you away and call the whole thing off.

He doesn’t.

Inwardly screaming, you melt at the feeling of a pair of strong arms winding around your waist, a small quiet chuckle brushing past your ear. Oh shit, oh fuck… he smells divine.

“Hi,” you mutter shyly when you pull away, a flush of warmth flooding through you from top to toe when he smiles kindly and hovers only a step away.

“Hi,”

You can’t help but admire his features up close; the ones that were lost on the photo Ben had shown you when first trying to convince you into this arrangement. His eyes were a lot darker, tousled curls longer than they had looked when they were hidden under a well-loved hat. A light flush of pink sweeps up his neck and along his cheeks, and you watch it fondly with a wild flutter of your heart.

Okay, you could just stand here all night and stare at him, but that might freak him out a little… maybe try speaking. Talk. Just talk. Say something smart – something stimulating. First date impressions and all that.

“It’s fucking freezing.”

What? No. You did not just say that. Seriously? That’s what had to bubble from your mouth? Are you kidding?

You want to face palm, want to just turn around and march right back to your car with a text to Benny saying ‘thanks, but we can’t be friends anymore’ and just disappear from the face of the Earth. God, he’s going to give you so much shit for this.

Thankfully though, Frankie doesn’t seem bothered by your blurted out statement in the slightest, and even grins, nodding in agreement.

“Yeah, it is.” He watches you shift on your feet, smile widening just a little more at the look of complete horror that had just washed your features before he had spoken, and then half turns, “Shall we?” Oh God, what was that? Pope’s gonna kill him. You’ve got his head in a complete spin and now he’s forgotten Pope’s whole pep talk. Shit. Shit. Be cool. Be cool... what the fuck does ‘be cool’ even mean?

The bar’s warm when you both walk in side by side, Frankie’s hand placed softly on your lower back as he leads you to the bar, and then through to a spare table, nestled out of the way and tucked into the farthest corner after he buys your drinks. He lets you sit first, and you’re pleasantly surprised when he stays close and, instead of sitting opposite you, he sits to your right, knees bumping yours softly under the table.

It’s not until you both sit, quiet and fiddling with your beers while sharing nervous smiles, that you remember something you had been meaning to ask all day.

“Oh. How did Mena’s appointment go?” You ask immediately, recalling his slight worry the day before over her slightly warmer than normal forehead and uncharacteristic crankiness. Your stomach plummets when he shoots you a startled look.

Oh no… have you blown it? Were you not meant to ask about kids on the first date or something? What were the rules for this kind of thing? You’d never dated someone with a baby, you had no idea what was okay to ask and what wasn’t. You guys had literally only just sat down, and here you were, ruining it already. That’s got to be the quickest end to a date, well… ever.

Panic creases your features and you frown in worry, “Sorry, should I – should I not have said anything? I’m sorry, I’ve never –”

“No, no – you’re fine! I just… I didn’t expect you to remember.” And then he smiles. Blindingly. The dread crushing your chest quickly morphs into something sweeter, something that has your heart quickening. “She’s okay – she’s getting her molars. Thank you for asking.”

You smile, turning bashful under the pure admiration shining in his eyes, and shrug lightly.

“It’s alright. I was worried for you.” You’re quiet when you admit it, unsure if that’s something you should be upfront about with only knowing him for such a short period, but he seems to take it in stride, smiling fondly at you and reaching a hand to cover yours softly. The immediate heat from his skin encompasses yours, shooting wave after wave of electric tingles up your arm and straight to your chest.

If your pulse was racing before, it’s downright wild now.

He flushes when your fingers part ever so slightly, letting his nestle in between yours, and then you’re smiling at each other, laughing quietly as the awkwardness all but evaporates.

You talk about everything. Growing up, moving around, Frankie’s time in the military being a pilot. You have so many questions, but pick up on the wave of tension that rolls through him at the mention of flying. For a short moment, you wonder why he didn’t want to talk about such an achievement – being a pilot was incredible, but not wanting to ruin the easy-going atmosphere that had fallen over you both, you leave the topic of flying instantly, and switch for talking about Mena, thankful to see the light return immediately to his eyes as he gushes about his little girl.

“Can I ask a question?” You ask sometime later in the evening, now comfortably closer to Frankie as your legs tangle under the table.

He hums, sipping on his third beer and nodding, “Of course.”

You watch your fingers play with his on the table, before grinning up at him slyly, “Why ‘Catfish’?”

He groans, throwing his head back with a chuckle, and wipes a hand across his face.

“My whiskers.” He finally admits with a playfully defeated sigh. When you frown in confusion, his grin widens, and he scratches his fingers along his jaw and through the patch of facial hair. “The guys used to give me shit because I can’t grow much more than this.” He gestures to his face, rolling his eyes. “Used to say I had whiskers – like a catfish, apparently.” He chuckles, shrugging light heartedly. “It just seemed to stick after a while.”

You’re laughing, and it keeps the smile planted firmly on his face. What a sound.

“Well, it’s an interesting nickname, but I think I prefer Frankie.”

He softens, unable to resist melting closer to you, and nods, “Me too.”

He likes the way you say it… sweetly, softly. He’s desperate to hear it fall from your lips more, in all sorts of ways.

Disappointment floods you both when you notice the late hour, Frankie explaining dejectedly that he should probably go and relieve his babysitter before said babysitter gets too comfortable with his refrigerator and the beer in there. You can hear the fondness in his voice when he tells you about his sitter for the evening, Mena’s tío – another close friend of Benny’s apparently – as you leave the bar, his hand automatically falling to tangle with yours.

“I’m this way,” you point a thumb over your shoulder, fully expecting to say your goodbyes outside the brightly lit bar, but frowning in slight confusion when he merely nods and starts to walk the way to your car.

“Oh – are you parked over here, too?”

He shakes his head, pointing to the complete opposite direction. “No, I’m over there. I don’t want you to walk to your car alone.”

Your insides turn to jelly, smiling to yourself as you grip his hand a little tighter. Thoughtful. He returns your smile, but hates that you seem so surprised by the notion of being walked to your car in the dark. What kind of losers had you dated previously that either didn’t walk you safely to your car?

“Thank you for tonight, Frankie.”

He grins, thumb rubbing soft circles over your knuckles. “Thank you – I had a great time.”

“Next time, it’s my treat.” You say, hoping you weren’t thinking too much of something that wasn’t there. Would he even want a second date? Was he just being polite saying he had a good time? Is that what people said before never calling them again?

Unbeknownst to you, Frankie was having a hard time reigning in the enthusiastic excitement that had flooded through him the second you had spoken. You wanted another date? With him? He had to mash his teeth together to stop the eager grin threatening to break his face completely in half. Thank God he hadn’t blown it. You were… God. You were fucking incredible. He owed Benny – big time.

“I can deal with that,” he eventually agrees, face warm and giddy at the prospect of taking you out again.

You turn and envelope him in a hug when you reach your car, breathing in one final lungful of whatever delicious aftershave he had used, and smile to yourself against his shirt when he folds his arms around you, a hand cupping the back of your head to keep you pressed tightly against him.

Pulling back to say one final goodbye, you’re struck by how close his face seems, eyes flicking across his face before meeting his dark ones.

Suddenly trapped in a gaze that had a fire licking up your spine, your breath goes in a stuttered exhale. Rough fingertips trace your jaw, and then you’re holding your breath entirely as he leans in closer. Anticipation kicks in, heart thumping through your chest as he closes the distance much slower than you would like, and you fight away the wave of impatience that screams at you to just push forward and kiss him.

You don’t expect him to stop however, only a breath away from your lips, and you panic for a small second, wondering if you’re doing something wrong, but when he murmurs a quiet question, it takes all the strength in your legs to not fall to the fucking ground in a lump of melted goo.

“Can I kiss you?”

God yes. Please.

Unable to stop the shy smile that tugs at your lips, you try not to nod too eagerly and definitely fail miserably. You want this, more than what you’ve ever felt with anyone else. Frankie had you feeling like a giddy teenager with a huge crush and you were desperate to feel more of it, to see where it goes and what it could develop into.

At your nod of approval, he moves in the rest of the way, hand moving to cup the side of your neck below your ear, and he sighs lightly when your soft lips finally meet his. The kiss is tender, warm, and does nothing to soothe your raging pulse. He can’t hear your heartbeat, can he? God, can you hear his? He briefly worries, but when your lips move against his, his mind blanks.

His moustache tickles your lip, nose bumps gently with yours. Your hands find his chest, fingers gripping at the soft material, and for a moment it feels like you two are the only ones in existence, floating in a hazy whirl of space.

You take a minute to open your eyes when he eventually pulls away, and when you do, you find him gazing at you with a shy smile and a rosy flush across his cheeks. Lashes fluttering as you blink, you try to get a hold of your heart beating heavily against your ribs while your lips tingle from the aftershocks of his kiss.

Holy shit.

Before you can even think it through, his shirt tangles in your scrunched fist and you pull him back to you, replanting your lips against his with a desperate urgency he meets head on and returns eagerly. His hands, previously gentle, now grip at your waist, squeezing the flesh greedily as you let him walk you back into the side of your car. The metal is cold, even through your jacket, and you arch into him, moaning softly when his tongue traces your lip.

Your knees buckle when his tongue tangles with yours, and he presses you harder into the car to stop you dropping.

“Holy shit.” He breathes huskily after separating, lips widening into a grin when he sees you mirroring his breathlessness. You giggle softly, the fire roaring in your stomach turning into an affectionate warmth that floods your system when he brushes his nose along yours tenderly. “You’re so beautiful.”

“Stop.” Your smile turns shy, teeth digging into your lips as he chuckles again, dark eyes shining. He watches you wrangle your breathing into something semi normal, glad he wasn’t the only one that got swept up and carried away with the moment.

He traces your cheek, planting one more, less hungry and more affectionate, kiss to your lips.

“Goodnight, mystery girl.”

“Goodnight, Frankie.”

He backs away, face split as he smiles, eyes admiring you before he turns and starts to meander away to wherever he was parked, turning to look at you over his shoulder every few steps. You climb into your car, grinning at the final wave he sends you before disappearing around the corner.

Finally alone in your car, you let out the disbelieving chuckle you’ve been keeping in all night, face feeling hot as the aftereffects of such a great date rests pleasantly in your stomach, mind running through every little moment of the night. Starting your car, you start the drive home, unable to stop touching your lips every so often, insides clenching at the memory of his lips moving against yours.

Tags: @anu-simps @seasonschange-butpeopledont @withasideofmeg @you-got-me-starry-eyed @emilykjh @peterhollandkait @sara-alonso @starlightsearches @bookishofalder @empress-palpat1ne @shadowolf993 @rosiefridayrogersunday @canyonmirrors @eoz-stuff @blackonemasie @layniapetrovnaaa @alberta-sunrise @goldielocks2004 @betterthanbucky @linkpk88 @afootnoteofhappiness @livilottie

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x f!reader #francisco morales x you #frankie morales #francisco morales #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #benny miller x reader

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makeste · 3 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 314: ...Or You Live Long Enough to See Yourself Become the Villain

Previously on BnHA: Some random assholes were all “let’s throw exploding spears at All Might and see if it activates his Conqueror’s Haki” and SURPRISE, MOTHERFUCKERS, IT DID!! Elsewhere, Lady Nagant confusingly tried to capture Deku alive by shooting him in the stomach, but to be fair I guess that’s what happens when you send an assassin to do a bounty hunter’s job, so yeah. Deku was all “ouch”, and then because this is a shounen he basically just straight up forgot about it, and did a big fancy Smokescreen thing, and then activated his mildly incomprehensible new ki-blasting quirk which he got from the Third. En and the Third were all “hey Deku maybe let’s not just impulsively activate all this shit in the heat of battle when you don’t know how to use it yet and you’re already injured,” and Deku was all “thanks for the quirks guys but I’ll take it from here” and snuck up on Nagant and grabbed her arm and so now what’s going to happen I wonder.

Today on BnHA: Nagant is all “[shoots Deku again]” because of course she is lol. Deku is all “tell me about AFO!” and Nagant is all “why would I tell you anything?” and then proceeds to tell him her entire life story which is FILLED WITH SO MUCH MURDER, YOU GUYS. Holy shit. So basically she was an assassin for the HPSC, which we already knew, but somehow it’s one thing to know that, and another to actually see her running around capping dudes in the forehead and being covered in more blood than the elevator from The Shining. Anyway, so you’ll never believe it, but all that murder had a negative impact on her psychologically, and eventually led her to question everything she believed about hero society, and so she killed her creepy boss and was promptly sent to Tartarus. This extremely fun chapter ends with Overhaul showing up all “HI, HELLO, I’M STILL HERE”, because for some reason he is still here. Why are you still here, Overhaul.

“the beautiful Lady Nagant” oh you know your audience don’t you Horikoshi

well all right then! so I’m guessing this means that she is not, in fact, going to roll over and die just because Deku’s out here all “GOT YA!” like they’re playing a game or tag or something. ffff may the manga gods have mercy on our young suicidal protagonist

lmao so Deku is all “GOD I’M SO SMART, WHAT A GOOD STRATEGY I HAD, CAPITOL JOB THERE OL’ CHAP, CAPITOL” and lol, okay. I mean, it was a good plan though. but I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop here

“I’ll make you give me information on All for One” well there you go, lol. Deku Angst arc still fully engaged. still no light in his eyes either of course. just a lil chaotic ball of sleep deprivation and rage

lol, fucking THANK YOU though

oh my god what the hell did she do to him lol

did she shoot him with her elbow??? fucking look at this?? THIS IS WHY WE LISTEN TO HAWKS oh my god Deku are you dead

WHAT’S HAPPENING, IS THIS GOOD OR BAD, WHO’S WINNING

things that I wish I could tell from this panel which I unfortunately cannot tell

did she stab him or shoot him?? can you imagine if it was the former lol. why does Horikoshi keep stabbing all my kids. look Kacchan now the two of you can match

did she actually hit him or did he get away??

or did she hit him and then he jumped away?? just, what

well anyway, so now Deku is asking her why she sided with AFO, but he seems a lot more pissed off than when he was interrogating Muscular, though. probably because she shot him three times. fair enough

oh my god

does Lady have a blog here on tumblr dot com?? -- does Horikoshi have a blog here on tumblr motherfucking dot com?? why do I suddenly feel like this man is out here sneakily reading up on all our discourse

oh my god Deku it’s almost like getting up close and personal with someone who can shoot custom bullets from any distance and any position with deadly accuracy was a terrible fucking idea

IF ONLY SOMEONE HAD WARNED YOU NOT TO ENGAGE WITH HER AT ALL COSTS. IF ONLY SOMEONE HAD HAD THE FORESIGHT TO DO THAT sob. can you imagine how much shorter this series would be if characters actually listened to Hawks. Hawks, and Momo. why do we even let anyone else run the show ever

OH MY GOD

DEKU, RUN

OH MY GOD WHAT IS HAPPENING

this looks a lot like what happens to me whenever I play One’s Justice. those fucking combo attacks that you can’t fucking escape from and so your character just has to stand there getting their ass whalloped repeatedly while you wonder why you paid $40 for this

but anyways though. so Lady who did you kill?? I bet they deserved it, don’t worry I forgive you

(ETA: ANYWAY SO FRIENDLY REMINDER THAT LADY NAGANT DID NOTHING WRONG EVER IN HER ENTIRE LIFE. aside from murdering all those innocent people and shit. but there were CIRCUMSTANCES, and THEY WERE EXTENUATING, OKAY.)

-- holy shit

looks like the HPSC arc is back on the menu boys

so are we about to learn that the HPSC was going full Hydra on people’s asses? secretly dispatching anyone they deemed a threat to society?? “taken care of” as in you fucking shot them??

so then was the “hero” she killed actually one of the guys who was giving or carrying out these orders?? holy shit Lady, up until now I’ve mainly just been stanning you for your flawless eyebrow game and metal af quirk, but this shit could actually get real very quickly, and I am prepared to genuinely and sincerely love the shit out of you depending on what we learn next about your backstory

oh my god?!?

so wait, hold up. am I reading this right?? basically the HPSC started murdering vigilantes because they were worried they were gaining too much of the public’s favor?? holy fucking shit???

oh my GOD oh my god

“it’s been a while since I scarred you all with the dead dog and the graphic slaughter of an entire innocent family, huh,” Horikoshi says thoughtfully. “anyway so what do you all think of my new creation, the Spaghetti Bullet.” well, Horikoshi, so you know that squished-up face that Kermit the Frog makes sometimes? yeah. that’s what I think, if you must know lol

holy hell the juxtaposition

I’m actually kind of surprised to learn she had a lot of fans? what with her M.O., I was expecting her to have been an underground hero like Aizawa, but apparently not? then again I still have absolutely no idea how any of that works. I really need to read Vigilantes already

oh snap

nothing like a sweet dose of assassin trauma to finally round out our BnHA Trauma Bingo!! well done guys, we finally collected all of the traumas! hooray!

noooo Ladyyyyyyy

holy shit what a fucking chapter. like, this man promised us an assassin, and went and fucking delivered. I was not expecting it to be this dark, lol, but holy shit I am here for it

you know, at some point you have to start questioning the logistics of this, though

I mean, how do I put this... her quirk isn’t exactly subtle. that murder scene from a few pages back looked like the first season of Dexter for fuck’s sake, that’s not exactly “disappearing” people now is it?? and I mean, her bullets are literally made from her own fucking hair; it seems like it would be impossible not to leave any evidence behind. did no one start to wonder who the fuck was going around murdering all these people? or did the people who asked too many questions wind up getting conveniently “disappeared” themselves??

and hey, speaking of asking too many questions

holy shit is he blackmailing her??!? or no, wait -- what the hell is he reaching for in his pocket boy you better not

(ETA: what exactly was this man expecting fdslkjd. “uh oh my unstoppable hair trigger assassin who is literally always armed is asking questions, better announce that I am going to shoot her and then reach into my pocket veeeeeery slowly while she stands there all of two feet away.” how did this guy ever function as the head of a shadow government with these decision-making skills, I’m genuinely baffled.)

OH MY GOD LADY YES

this. right here. is why “run the fuck away” was damn good solid fucking advice. oh shit. but my god did this dude have it coming

so wait lol has she just been narrating all of this out loud to Deku this entire time

okay but can we just stop for a moment and appreciate the fact that they’re having this deep conversation about the dark secrets of hero society right in the middle of their intense mid-air sniper free-for-all lol

holy shit you guys, Nagant’s the one that should have made the tell-all video. I mean, no offense to you, Dabi, I’m sure you worked very hard on your video and did a ton of crunches every day so that you would look good with your shirt off while you told the world all about how your dad was a jerk. but seriously...

this is already like 100x more convincing than what he put out. also, gasp, is it another flashback

yes it is oh my gosh

so the HPSC Chairladyperson whom ReDestro killed used to be this guy’s direct subordinate, huh? I wonder if she kept the whole assassin program going after she took over. can’t say I was feeling any particular kind of grieving way about her death before, but certainly not now lol

but unfortunately Nagant has finally lost me at the same place where all of the villains inevitably do, which is to say when they somehow make the dubious mental leap from “society sucks and is bad” to “let’s just be openly fucking evil lol, worth a shot.” because when heroes murder innocent people and cover it up, that’s obviously bad (and I mean, it absolutely fucking is lol, don’t get me wrong); but when villains murder innocent people straight up out in the open without giving a fuck, they’re righteous revolutionaries? just -- is there really no non-murdery middle ground here?? I guess that’s what Deku and co. are for, hopefully

anyways oh shit Deku seems to have spotted something?? and he’s doing something weird with Blackwhip what

oh, he spotted her, I guess

lmaooooo

new favorite Deku panel right here. a masterpiece

oh my god you guys our little boy is starting to grow up before our eyes

you love to see it. and you can tell with those elipses that he’s gearing up to say something really cool and determined and badass like the shounen protag he is, yes please, Deku ilu so much please do your thing

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

IS THAT A TEENY TINY LIL EYE SPARKLE THERE OMG. still not anywhere close to his usual standard, but that’s some clear resolve there in his eyes there at long last! it always shines the most clearly when he’s being true to himself and his ideals, so I love that it finally shows up again here, when he’s reaffirming his resolve to help others no matter what

uh oh so what’s Lady going to do now

is it time for a trump card?? kinda sounding like it’s time for a trump card

???

I lied btw, this is my new favorite Deku panel. but anyways what is she up to now lol

ohhhhhh, lol

why does she seem shocked, lol. here I thought this was part of her plan, but apparently she forgot all about ol’ “Look Ma, No Hands” back up there

and so I guess that’s it for this week! so we’ve learned basically everything now about Lady and her quirk and her history with the HPSC and why she agreed to work for AFO. pretty much the only question that still remains is why the hell she decided to drag this asshole along for the ride! because I still cannot figure that out dsklkjlkf

(ETA: actually now I’m kind of wondering if they maybe have some past connection we don’t know about yet. when exactly was Nagant sent to Tartarus? is it possible she was ordered to track down and kill Overhaul at some point before that, but never got around to it? or something else along those lines? idk but now I’m curious.)

anyways Deku, I know that your empathy has no bounds and that you’re on a “saving villains” kick right now, and good on you... but also, if you decide to just like, skip all of that shit just this once, absolutely no one will hold it against you, I’m just saying. just, all I’m asking here is maybe let’s think twice before we start trying to reform guys who imprison and torture little girls for profit. I think maybe that’s a good place to draw the line. next week is going to be a very interesting chapter lol

#bnha 314 #lady nagant #midoriya izuku #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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