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lady-ashfade · 4 months

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Following The Tune

Percy Jackson x UnknownGod! Half-blood reader. (The reader is the child of the “Unknown” god, other wise known as Caias)

—£ Again, I have not finish the books so I’m making up my own gods/plot and stuff. I just find it fun. Also, reader has a sword like Percy, the pen.

—£ This is just a plot i made up, I just have a oc story in like so I did it! Please don’t hate because it has nothing to do with anything really (Or maybe it does)

—£ Warnings: Slight!Oc!Reader, slight angst, new lore to follow, all over the place, comfort.

The moment you laid your eyes on Percy Jackson- you knew he was different. Everything about him sang a different song the rest here. It was a familiar tone. When you learnt of what he had to face to get here made you guilty, knowing while you were dry and safe he had to face that same doom you faced.

“Maybe, just maybe…” you whispered while he slept. He look almost peaceful but the crinkle in his brows said another thing. Taking a step forward you close your eyes and tried to listen for something. Your senses elevate as you tried to sniff him out. Every was calling out but you couldn’t hold it for too long.

A creek in the floor boards threw you off and took you out of your powers, turning around there stood annabeth with a raised brow and her arms crossed. “I told you not to be in here.” You sighed and picked up your bag. Walking passed her and out of the door but she caught your wrist in her hands. “What did you feel?”

Snatching your arm away from her, a annoyed huff left your lips. “Nothing, not like you ever listen anyway.” You made it out the door before she could say anything to stop you. Now, you didn’t hate annabeth. It was just, no one ever liked to listen to you. She always thought she knew everything and when someone needed something from you- They tried to suck up to you.

But in the years you could call her somewhat of a friend, like everyone else. But there was no trust.

Which is way you made it out of the camp in the same way you always have, with no one noticing. You were the only half-blood in your cabin, no one to stick with at times. So being alone made it easy to slip away from time to time but it was always dangerous to go out. But you always had luck on your side.

Taking a step through the barrier you smiled feeling the human feeling of the air. Making your way to the road you followed, stopped a few times to figure your way to things. Took a few buses with the money you hoarded.

Smirking when you stepped out on the pavement at your destination. It stunk. The streets sang with chatting of all the mortals, and the smell of greasy food. “Home.” Is what it reminded you of but there was a stench you didn’t like but continued to go about your way into the apartment building.

The empty cabin was looked over by Chiron and Grover, Luke standing by with his arm crossed. “How can they keep getting out like that? I don’t understand.” Grover pondered his thoughts out loud. “Get it from their farther.” Luke commented and shrugged, he smirked again at the thought of you.

“They’ll be safe, hopefully. Does anyone know why they lift this time?” Chiron looked at the boys as the taller one just shrugged again almost uninterested. Grocer shifted nervously and he looked down trying to not say anything but he gave up when the attention was on him.

“They visited Percy before they left. I don’t know why, maybe that has something to do with it?” The older man sighed and closed his eyes, the stress lines already showing. He nodded and walked out without a word while the boys looked at each other. It was a worried look but all they could do was await your return.

It was stupid. He was stupid. He smelled. The apartment smelled of beer that burned your noses and gave you a headache. All he did was sit on the couch and scream at the computer in his lap as you stared at him behind the wall. He was to busy to hear the door open. But you were thankful as his attention was so focused on the screen that he didn’t notice you. All you had to do was focus.

Closing your eyes you calm yourself and let your senses take over and watch for you. Slowly you got ahold of his mind which was dirty to look at, that it made you feel filthy. Making him tired you heard him yawn and feel his body start to give up. Opening your eyes you watch him drift off while he was confused as to why he felt so tired.

Once he was out cold you walked around the apartment with one idea in mind. To find a photo. Sally Jackson and her younger son, Percy Jackson. They weren’t hard to find and you found a wall of them on in the hallway. So many pictures of the family. He was so little and smiling with no clue of the hard world he knew now, his mother still by his side. But all of them had Gabe in them while little Percy glares daggers at him.

Moving on you looked on the tables for just a single photo to take back to him, one small memory to have with him. Then one image become clear.

“Don’t go to far,” her voice sounded lovely. The sun beaming down on the two of them, the sound of waves soothed the soul. “I wouldn’t mom.” It was Percy, you could seem them clearly. The day was beautiful. She smiled at her son as she watches him run off towards the waves, she knew. Watching him play in the water gave a high pitched sound in your ears.

This memory was different. You didn’t search for it. It was a forbidden memory.

The scene became dark and windy. No one seemed to notice and continued to play and smiled like they were. The waves clashed harder on the shore as the wind whistled through the ears. In the both places you covered your ears and tried to pull yourself out of it but nothing was working. Thunder clashed down from the clouds near the sand you walked one, making you jump each time.

“You wish to know? Weak, so very weak. I only show the truth little one,” the darken voice made you tense and watch black smoke come closer as it swallowed everything up. “Just like your father, always looking for trouble. But unlike him, you aren’t as well hidden.” Sometime touched your face, making you scream out in pain as it stung your cheek.

“Let this be known.”

You were pulled out, crushing over for your breath. Placing a hand up on your cheek you felt the pain and wet feeling, pulling it back you saw the red stain. “Blood.” Panicked you looked at the picture that gave you the vision and grabbed ahold of it. It was a core memory, one not to be messed with. Grabbing ahold of it you threw it in your bag quickly.

You frozen when you smelled that dreadful smell again, the sound of something heavy making the flooring creek. Turning around slightly your eyes went wide and took a step back trying to keep yourself from screaming. The large black figure with claws bigger then your face as it’s body took up all the hallway it squeezed itself into. It was your blood. It smelled you.

The green scales on it’s legs you could see made you feel sick, the empty face made you go white. Sprinting to the open window where the fire escaped was it knew what you were going to do and followed you, reaching out for you. Jumping over the railing and down the steps you cried out in fear as it crawled down the building. The screeching alone made you go crazy.

It was one of the faceless. Something your father had made, something that should have been on your side. But your father lost his war to hades and everything had been taken from him. He went into hiding, ignoring the prayers to him and turned his back on mortals. Until he had you. One last chance to be forgiven and have something to his name.

But he was coward, he lost his war and mind. There was nothing in him that you wanted to call your father, for his creations killed your mother. Maybe that’s why you wanted Percy to have the one thing you did not. Something to look at and never forget her face, her smile, the warmth.

“No, No. Nope.” You jumped down and the other way into the alleyway to get out of sight from people. From your pocket a pen, the cape flipped off and the shining blade lit up the shade. The figure come into the alley and looked at you, moving so slowly towards you. It wasn’t a smart choice but your parent wasn’t known for his smarts. But fleeing was.

Just one step…

Blackness started to take over your vision and you limped over the camp line, holding your stomach as something warm and sticky leaked all over your shirt. You used all your might to get to the camp alive, once you did your body gave out. Muffed voices called out to you but you couldn’t see clearly as blurry outlines leaned over you. When you were picked up the last thing you could remember was someone calling’s your name but you didn’t know who.

Percy watch in confusion as someone was rushed away, no one was saying anything. They were blood red, huge cuts across their shirt and skin. As he stared at them he could remember something he saw in a dream. That face…was watching him for a moment while he slept.

Something blinding hit his eyes and made him turn away. He blinked a few times and stepped back to see what it was. A brown frame facedown in the grass, it looked broken and bloody. He bends down and picked up the backpack, then the picture frame.

“Don’t go too far Percy.”

He saw his mom standing in a sunhat while her hair blew over her face, her arm wrapped around his smaller body. The cartoon shark trunks made him cringe, he used to never go swimming without them. This was a picture of him and his mom….What was it doing here? And why was it with someone he didn’t know.

The frame was broken, the glass shattered but he managed to pull the picture out and stand up when Grover called for him. He threw the bag over his shoulders and followed to the room were they had brought the camper he didn’t know. Percy refused to leave, he needed to talk to them. Everything was so confusing and maybe he could get some answers.

He stood at the corner of your room while watching over you, almost protectively. Percy clings onto the photo of his mom, while staying with you. Even started to eat lunch in your room and desperately waited for you to wake. You mumbled in your sleep while panicked and sweating up a storm. The meds they have you took longer to work and the cut on your cheek seemed to stay black while healing, a permanent scar.

“Percy…” the soft voice caught him off guard. Looking at you he noticed you still out like a light. You repeated the words his mother said just as sweet and caring.

Twitching in the bed, you started to groan louder and try to speak but nothing back out of your mouth. Seeing such destress made him scared, it was unlike anything he has seen before. “Y/n.” He walked close to the bed. He learned your name from the others.

“Wake up,” he shook you slightly in hopes to make you somehow wake up. Your body felt hot, too hot. “You’re freaking me out.” Maybe if I hit them with a pillow it will work, he thought to himself. A few seconds of pushing your shoulders and calling your name, he finally saw your eyes open for the first time.

Shifting your eyes in the light and away from the blurry vision you were spooked when something grabbed ahold of you. Jumping back you shoved his hands away, going as far back as possible. The last thing you remember was the faceless creature.

But you didn’t see the creature, but a boy with his hands held out in front of himself. The look on his face matching the slight fear and confusion you felt. “Percy?” You whispered and tilted your head to the side. He nodded and slowly lowered his arms while looking over you for any sign not to trust you. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I get that a lot.” He half joked full of sarcasms.

“No, no. You need to leave.” Your hands grip the side of the bed. It clicked in his brain that you didn’t move from your curled up place on the bed, your body still tense and shaking. You were scared of him.

“I’m not going to hurt you- Really, I just want answers.” He inched back to make you more comfortable. You watch him point to the corner, “You had a picture of me and my mom, why?” You look at the photo on the table and then back to him. You kept quiet and looked at the door trying to get him to leave but he didn’t budge.

His nose let out of huff, “Look, I’m not mad- Kinda weirded out but, I just want need some type of answer. No one around me tells me anything. Just give me something.” That’s when you saw him, truly saw him.

You looked at your younger self, standing before you with teary eyes while holding themselves close. No one wanted anything to do with you. It was easy to be forgotten and bullied. A nobody begging for a chance to prove themselves. Percy Jackson was just searching for a place in this world like you.

“I saw you the night before you came. I saw your mother, I saw everything happening but I had no clue.” Pulling your legs up and crossing them while covering yourself with your arms. “You deserve a photo of her, something I never had. Sometimes i follow the tone that’s showed to me,” Percy sat down on the bed listening to your story with all his attention and you could see his guilt, sadness and confusion.

“I heard the tone when I lost my mom, when I was claimed,” you look at the bed next to you, “And when i saw you enter the camp.”

“What does that mean?” Your shoulders go up and down as you hum without a true answer. “That you’re important.” His own shoulders drop down as he looked down at the floor in defeat. He got answers with the price of more questions

It was silent in the room. It was slightly uncomfortable but you could handle it. Then he spoke up, “Thank you by the way, it’s nice to see her.” You meet his eyes once’s again.

“You’re welcome, Percy.” Both your lips curled into a small smile. Maybe new friends were to be made this year.

#disney plus percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #percy jackson x reader #plantonic percy jackson x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #annabeth chase #grover underwood

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azsazz · 3 months

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Dead by Dawn (Part 15)

Azriel x Cassian x Reader

Summary: Zombie!AU: It’s been a while since the end of the world.

Warnings: Blood, gore, injury, graphic depictions of violence, poly!relationship, slow burn, undead, death, mentions of cannibalism, SMUTTT

Word Count: 2,421

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14)

Notes: okay, I’ve missed this one. It hits. (3/6 of 6 updates for 6k 💙)

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Day 195

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You’re beginning to really hate the decision to leave.

Not only because of the three walkers you’ve seen, all with missing jaws, but there’s a niggling in the back of your mind, screaming at you about Feyre and Rhys. You shouldn’t have left the house, no matter how harrowing the sight you, Cassian, and Azriel had stumbled upon was.

Cassian and Azriel, the two men who have been taking care of you since. The former had stayed up all night smoking the deer meat over the fire until it was nothing but smolders and a carcass left. You had intended to stay up with him until he was finished but Azriel had pulled you between his legs and all but forced you to lean against him with your head on his chest.

“Sleep,” he’d demanded gruffly, but his fingers brushing the hem of your t-shirt to find your skin were soft, soothing as he traced patterns. His lips were warm against your forehead, his breaths even and strong against your back that had lulled you into sleep in a matter of moments.

You’d been woken up by gentle strokes, the moon high in the sky. Both men had decided that you’d need to move campsites in case any zombies or wild animals were attracted to the carcass. The three of you stumbled through the woods, sticking close to each other. You’d quieted at the soft sound of a creek trickling through the brush and you’d been able to fill your canteens before Cassian washed the blood from his hands and forearms.

By the time the sun had washed its yellow rays upon the sky, you had found your way back to the main strip of highway and have been following it since. The little sleep that Azriel forced you to get had helped a little, but the anxiety rushing through your body at the thought of Feyre and Rhysand out here alone keeps you wired and focused only on made up scenarios of what could have gone wrong.

Had they made it back to the van? Had they tried to come back to the house only to find the letter Azriel had left them? Had they taken the warning and found gas, drove up the road until they’d seen the Eryef signs her sisters had left her?

“Stop overthinking, sweetheart,” Cassian breaks the silence. He wraps an arm around your shoulder swiping his thumb across the crease in your brows. “We’ll find them.”

“You don’t know that,” you huff, wringing your fingers together. Azriel peers over his shoulder from where he’s scouting ahead, stopping in his tracks until the both of you catch up. You can’t look at either man right now. If it weren’t for you, you’d probably all be back together as a group, or at least waiting safely back at the house of horrors. “We shouldn’t have left them.”

Azriel pulls you straight into his arms and Cassian closes the pack by pressing his firm body against your back. You’re enveloped by arms and warmth, soaking in both of their confidence that both Feyre and Rhysand are safe and to keep moving is the correct decision for your group of three.

You’re still not quite used to this side of Azriel. How he’s more open to you than before, like it’s been just as much of a struggle to keep away from you as it has been for you. He’s no longer afraid to pull you into his side or chest or arms should he sense your overworking mind. You’re much like him in that way, always playing out every scenario before anything happens. It’s a hard habit to break, one that has gotten him this far, saved his ass more than once, and by the Mother he’ll do whatever he needs to to make sure you find them.

“Feyre is safe with Rhys, and he is safe with her,” Azriel starts, planting his palms on either side of your cheeks. The marred skin is soft against your cheeks and he tilts your chin up so you’re forced to look in his eyes. The gold in them is stern, as are his following words. “We’re going to see what this Eryef is all about because that’s where they’ll go when they see the signs. We’re going to meet them there and all will be alright.”

“Well, as alright as things can be with the apocalypse and all,” Cassian adds, nuzzling his nose into the juncture of your jaw. The brush of his lips makes you want to laugh, but you’re frozen beneath Azriel’s stare.

“Okay?” he asks you, and he tries to ignore the way that Cassian’s kissing down your neck, running his hands from your hips up your sides. He tries to ignore the way your fingers clutch to the hem of his shirt in response, and the way that your lids flutter. He steps into you and you can feel their stiff cocks pressing into you from front and back. The air is shoved from your lungs the closer they lean. “We’re worrying about us first. We can’t help them if we can’t help ourselves, first. We need to stay level headed, right?”

His lips slanting against yours are all too convincing of that.

“Right?” he asks against your mouth, and you nod, gasping when Cassian’s fingers dip into the waistband of your pants. You grind your hips, drawing delicious moans from both men.

“Right,” you whine, fingers raking down Azriel’s chest. You need them, both of them right now, even in the middle of the fucking forest in the middle of nowhere. You don’t fucking care. “Need you both.”

“If we’re giving her what she needs,” Cassian says, leaning over you to caress Azriel’s jaw. He tucks his thumb and is tipping his chin back, gold eyes clashing with hazel. It makes Azriel’s throat bob and from your vantage point you want to crane your neck and lick over it. “Then we can’t deny her this, Azzy.”

He hums languidly but it chokes off when you press onto your toes to lap across the skin of his throat. It’s salty, musky, and his fingers on your hips tighten. It makes your legs clench together and your cunt drip with want.

“We shouldn’t,” Azriel groans because Gods does he want to. But he’s feeling too exposed out here like this, all tangled up with his lovers. It muddies his mind and if you’re all too preoccupied with the taste of each other, he worries you’ll attract walkers. “Not enough protection.”

“Don’t have any condoms,” Cassian mumbles against Azriel’s mouth.

“From walkers,” Azriel growls, biting at Cassian’s lips. It’s meant as a warning but all it does is make Azriel’s cock jump at the thought of your tight heat milking him dry. He wants to fill you up, watch Cassian fuck his way into you until you’re a moaning mess, leaking their seed.

He’s right, though. You shouldn’t be doing what you’re doing even now. Anyone could be near hearing the three of you fooling around, dead or alive. It’s a dangerous situation that lust is trying to paint its way over, and no matter how badly you need to feel the press of their bodies against yours again, you need to be careful about it.

“I’m going to find you both a house,” Cassian says gruffly, disappointment lacing his heady tone. He brushes Azriel’s hair back with one hand, and with the other he’s holding you tightly. “One with a fence and room big enough for a garden. We’re going to find a place for Feyre and Rhys nearby, but not so close that they hear me fucking the both of you all day and all night.”

Your eyes roll into the back of your head at his words. He says them like he means them, like this is going to happen, and you can admit that it sounds like heaven. Spending the rest of your days with the two of them, always together, never lonely.

“‘M gonna take care of you both,” he continues, tone going soft with promise. Both you and Azriel lean into him, cradling him close. Your stomach twists a little at the thought that passes through your mind like a shooting star. “We’re going to be okay.”

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“Only a few more miles,” Azriel says sometime later, when you’re taking a break. You’re munching on some of the meat Cassian had stowed away last night. You’d all been very lucky with that kill. Animals lurking the woods are a lot less common as they were at the beginning of the apocalypse, with all of the roaming zombies hungry for flesh and blood. They’ll take a bite out of anything with a pulse.

The meat is chewy and bland, but it’s better than most things you’ve eaten since the world ended. There was once when you and Feyre had to force down handfuls of flowers to ease the hunger pains contorting your bodies, but they hadn’t tasted as good as they smelled, but they’d kept you alive.

“We should be there by nightfall, I reckon.”

You nod, forcing yourself to swallow. You’re not complaining, but your throat protests around the chewed meat, dry as it scrapes down your windpipe. Coughing, you try to dislodge it, and Cassian hands you his canteen to wash it down with. You beam gratefully at him.

“Do you think anyone will be there?” You ask, examining the jerky. “What do you think we’ll find?”

Azriel sighs as he thinks, leaning back against the tree behind him. His gold eyes scour the woods surrounding you. When they pass over your body and they rove down, drinking you in, then does he answer. “Hopefully we can at least find shelter.”

You clench your thighs together. Clearly, he hasn’t forgotten about earlier when the three of you had been pressed so tightly together you were nearly one. Cassian shifts too and you can see the slight tenting of his jeans. Goosebumps awaken on your flesh as his bare arm brushes yours.

You’re about to speak but a twig snapping draws all of your attention, freezing in your spots.

You shove the rest of the meat into your mouth because by the Mother you will not waste it. Your body is tight with anticipation, and you draw your blade silently from your belt, preparing for the worst.

You peek a glance at Cassian, who shrugs a little. His hazel eyes are sharp, but he can’t see anything any more than you can. He sends a questioning glance over to Azriel, who silently shakes his head. He can’t see anything either.

The unmistakable groan of a walker sounds in the distance and your spine goes straight. It’s about time you’ve seen one. It’s been much too quiet as of late, and you pray to any God that will listen that it’s not a horde.

Slowly, you follow Cassian’s lead to stand. He offers you a hand and you move as silently as you can. Azriel’s already on his feet and moved closer to you. You hadn’t noticed how quickly and quietly he can be when he wants to.

You’re kind of envious.

Slinging your backpack over your shoulders, both men cover you while you work it into place until your knife is back up at the ready.

“C’mon you filthy vermin,” a voice cuts through the woods, not caring how loud they are. It carries through the trees easily, like an open field, though you still can’t see anything. “Just a few more steps.”

It’s a low voice, but unmistakably a woman’s. She sounds agitated as well, especially when the male voice that follows is nothing but a sweet, teasing trap. “Ease up, fawn. We have all day.”

“We don’t,” she disagrees. “Elain will wake soon and if something happens,” her voice pitches higher in distress and the male’s one turns soothing.

“Her condition hasn’t changed in months, Nes. She’ll hold on another day.”

You exchange glances with Cassian and Azriel but the confusion painting their faces is the same as that of yours. What the hell are they talking about?

The sound of a zombie groaning breaks them apart. The woman spits curses at it and her male counterpart chuckles. Cassian presses closer when the voices trail your way.

“All in good time, fawn,” the man says again and he’s back to calling her that nickname.

“It’s not my fault that they’re so damn stupid. I swear, it’s like being at University all over again.”

You hold your breath as he laughs and she huffs.

There’s a loud snap, the sound of something crunching nearby. It’s a little too close for any of your liking, and when the two of them step around a large oak, finally in your line of vision, they halt.

You watch the smiles slip from their faces, their eyes going hard. Their hands are tangled together but they rip apart as they reach for their weapons.

You, Azriel, and Cassian raise yours in defense, but no one moves.

The man’s auburn eyes blaze over the three of you, calculating. His features are sharper than the blade in your hand, eyes hard like he could light you on fire with a single look. His copper hair is finger rifled, tousled on the top of his head, but the unruly look works on him. You wonder if the smattering of freckles dusting his cheeks and the bridge of his nose are marks of all of his kills.

The woman beside him, however, somehow looks even more menacing. The hard lines around her mouth must be from frowning most of her life, much like she is now. Her dirty golden-brown hair is braided back from her face in two long plaits. There’s a bow strapped across her back, and you’re lucky that the three of you caught her whilst she was distracted.

She looks familiar, though, so familiar that it only takes you a moment to place her until you’re dropping your arm and stepping forward, ignoring how Azriel and Cassian grab for you.

The girl’s gray-blue eyes are sharp, deadly even. Her knife is curved and razor-edged, dark blood from her latest kill dripping off of the tip. She doesn’t look like she’s willing to extend any pleasantries in the slightest, but if the next three words out of your mouth don’t stop her from killing the three of you, then maybe you deserve it.

“You’re Feyre’s sister.”

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DBD Taglist: @writingsbychlo @kemillyfreitas @5moremin @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @waggel36 @bionic-donut @que-serasera @applepie02 @azrielsbabyg @arcadianmoonlight @pradaxstyles @illyrian-dreamer @reiincarnatiion @fuckthatfeeling @shadowsingersmate24 @poppyalice2001 @fall-myriad @sstrohma @tcris2020@jeannineee @21stcenturytaegi@ochiolism @secretly-here @harrystylesfan2686 @i-am-infinite

#acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #azriel x reader #cassian x reader #azriel x cassian x reader #dead by dawn #acotar zombie au #zombie au #acotar au

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thefatedthoughtofyou · 1 year

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Eddie's Too Late ... ?

It's about pining Eddie!! And he wants so badly to ask out Steve. Robin even might have given him an encouraging little talk about it. And he finally works up the courage to do so, and comes to family video, and he brings fucking flowers with him cuz he's a goddamn sap.

But he walks in , already smiling at Steve like always, but he's talking to some guy at the counter. Some punk lookin dude. And Eddie freezes in the door, hears the guy flirting and hears Steve laugh, flustered. And then the guy literally asks him out, and writes his number on Steve's hand when he shrugs and nods, and goes bright red.

And Eddie just, god he wants to cry. So he turns, walks back out and leaves, his chest fucking aching. Cuz he was a fucking idiot who waited too goddamn long.

And Steve hears the door clink shut, sees Eddie's back as he's leaving, sees him toss something in the trash outside. And he waits for punk guy, Jake, to leave. He's a regular. He's nice. If a little pushy for Steve's liking.

He told Steve he'd pick him up on friday. Didn't ask. And Steve had been so flustered when the guy grabbed his hand he just sort of... agreed.... maybe hoping he would leave faster.

So he waits for him to leave and then runs outside, digs in the trash and finds the flowers. And they're all yellow flowers, sunflowers mixed with daisies, and Steve even sees a couple dandelions stuck in, his eyes crinkling in a smile cuz he and Eddie had gotten into a huge fight with Robin and Nancy about whether they were weeds or flowers, Eddie and Steve on the side of flowers, of course.

And his heart flutters cuz Eddie had told him about a month ago, when he handed him this weird little yellow figurine, and Steve had asked why he was always giving him yellow stuff. Eddie had shrugged and said,

"it just reminds me of you I guess." Steve had immediately reconsidered his favorite color choice.

But Steve's heart drops because... Eddie had thrown this away... in the trash... right after he'd seen Steve with Jake. Steve feels like he's gonna puke, but he takes the flowers inside, sits them in the breakroom until its time for him to leave.

He calls Jake right before close. Wanted to wait til he was hopefully at home. Tells him he can't go out with him. Not friday. Or any other day. That he has someone.. hopefully. Jake sounds disappointed but doesn't push, thankfully. Steve grabs the flowers on his way out and drives to Eddie's.

He stops by Melvald's on the way, asks Joyce for help. They have some flowers, but nothing that says "Eddie." Joyce grabs a simple red rose and then a box of chocolate covered cherries. Steve's brow furrows and she just smiles at him and says,

"I've seen that boy buy six boxes of these at once. His sweet tooth is... a little bit alarming... actually. But it'll get the job done." She winks at him and Steve's never felt more greatful that Joyce pays attention to people, and works at the store, and is nosy like he is. He hugs her, grabs the rose and the chocolates, and runs to his car.

Eddie isn't home when he gets there. His van is there. But he's not at the trailer and Steve feels like he's gonna cry, his chest tight as Wayne tells him he left a few hours ago. Steve nods, his brow furrowing and he's about to leave when Wayne's hand on his shoulder stops him.

"Ya know the creek over off McAlpine street?" He asks, Steve nods, confused.

"He was headed that way. Likes to go there to be alone." Wayne gives him this soft encouraging smile, pats him on the back, and watches as Steve runs to his car.

He parks on the side of the road, as close to the creek as he can get. And then he runs.

He finds the creek but no Eddie at first, so he starts walking along the creekside, he rounds a bend and finally sees him.

He's crouched on the creek side, toes of his shoes just barley out of reach of the water. He's holding a stick, Steve squints and sees a small turtle walking across it, toward a big rock in the middle of the water. Eddie's crying. Silently. Tears slowly falling.

He wipes at his face every now and then with his free hand, eyes on the turtle. He smiles softly when the little thing reaches the rock. Steve smiles too. His heart thumping as he watches Eddie help this tiny creature. He takes a few more steps and then clears his throat when Eddie doesn't hear him. Eddie scrambles to his feet, startled, holding the stick out in front of him like a weapon, wiping at his face with the crook of his elbow.

"What are you doing here?" And it makes Steve shiver, so reminiscent of the boat house, when they'd found him terrified. Steve would have held his hands up in surrender, but they were a little full. Eddie’s yellow bundle of flowers on one, the rose and candy in the other.

"I found your flowers." He says, holding them up a bit and then letting them swing back by his side. Eddie doesn't say anything. Just looks away. Moves back to the edge of the creek, crouches back down, hugs his knees to his chest. Steve sighs, moves closer.

"I'm not going out with Jake." Steve says, because he needs Eddie to know. Needs him to stop hurting as soon as possible. Eddie sniffles, doesn't look at him.

"Jake." Is all he says. And Steve laughs at how he says it, he sounds so annoyed. Steve bumps his shoulder, Eddie scowls, bumps him back, harder.

"But you wanted too. You said yes." Eddie picks up another stick, pokes it into the mud.

"I only said yes cuz it took me by suprise, and he grabbed my hand and I got flustered. I didn't- he's not really my type." Steve says, leaning against Eddie as he sits, the ground is cold, and he can feel the damp soaking into his jeans a bit. Eddie glances at him. And s

Steve can see his guard coming down, just a bit.

"Oh yeah. Why not?" Eddie asks, and steve smiles. Crinkles his nose.

"Me? Dating a punk? Come on. Not a chance." Steve teases, bites his lip.

"Especially since there's this metal head that's kinda got me in a choke hold." Steve sighs, looks at Eddie. He finally turns to look at Steve, blinking slowly.

"Really?" Eddie asks, his fingers tugging at the hole in the knee of his jeans. Steve nods.

"Really. Can't seem to get him outta my head." Steve smiles, holds the rose and candy out to Eddie, Eddie just stares again. Steve wiggles the box of chocolates.

"C'mon. I know you like 'em. Joyce gave you up." Steve wiggles the box more aggressively and Eddie snatches it, then gently takes the rose, he sets the chocolates in his lap, whispering a quiet "traitor" that makes Steve smile.

"Thank you for the flowers. I love... them." Steve stumbles over that bit. Swallowing hard when Eddie’s eyes snap to him.

"You're welcome." Eddie shurgs.

"Just thought you might like some flowers. You seem like a flowers type of guy." Steve smiles, rests his head on Eddie's shoulder.

"The dandelions are my favorite." He whispers, moves and presses a kiss to Eddie's shoulder, and hears Eddie's breathing falter.

"I um... I love... my flower, too..... so thanks." He stumbles over the words the way Steve did, but on purpose, leaning away from Steve so he can look at him, a sly little smile on his face. But Steve's face is somber, his hands twitch in his lap.

"It's- I mean you don't have to sa-"

"I love you." Eddie cuts him off. Says it bluntly. And it makes Steve's chest hurt. He shakes his head, brow furrowed.

"I do though. I have for awhile. I'm just an idiot with terrible timing." Eddie bumps their shoulders, leans heavily into Steve. Steve takes a deep, shaky breath.

"I don't want you to say it just because you think I want to hear it." Steve says, his teeth worrying into his lip.

"That's not why I said it."

Steve looks at him.

"No? You didn't say it to me cuz I just like... really obviously almost said it to you?" He looks back into his lap, frowning.

"No. Although that was adorable." Eddie smiles, it makes Steve want to smile too.

"Hey." Eddie voice is soft, he reaches out, cups Steve's cheek and makes him look at him.

"Have you ever known me to say something just cuz it's something someone wants to hear?" He asks, Steve scoffs, shakes his head, looking shy.

"Okay then. I didn't say it because of that. I said it," he takes a deep breath, lets it out, drops his hands back into his lap.

"Because I saw you with that guy today-"

"Jake." Steve interrupts, smirk on his lips. Eddie pauses.

"Don't push it Harrington. I'm trying to be... serious... or something." His brow furrows, Steve reaches out, his face softening.

"Sorry. Go ahead."

Eddie huffs.

"I saw you with Jake, and it hurt. Like a lot. And I thought I lost you, ya know? Just cuz I was too fuckin scared to tell you how I feel. Cuz I love you. Cuz your GOOD. and I thought I lost it. And then you walked up looking all sad and apologetic and you didn't even DO anything." Eddie huffs again, his hands flailing.

"I hurt you." Steve mutters, Eddie makes a sound in his throat.

"Not on purpose! You didn't know! Cuz I didn't say! Jesus. All I do is talk, all of the fucking time, but I couldn't say the most important thing. And then Jake was writing his fucking number on your hand it was too late." Eddie shakes head, sighs deeply, and then turns to Steve with a smile that looks like it's half a grimace of pain. Steve nods.

"But here I am."

Eddie bites his lip, nods back.

"Here you are." Eddie says.

"Not with Jake." Steve says. Eddie rolls his eyes. Steve snorts.

"Can we never say that name again. I already hate it." Eddie grumbles.

"Fine with me. He is a regular though." Steve says, shrugs, pulls some grass out of the ground and drops it on Eddie's thigh. Eddie watches him move it around with his finger, pushing it into a pile on his leg.

"I'll burn his house down." Eddie whispers, still watching Steve. Steve barks a laugh and brushes the grass off Eddie's leg.

"Very dramatic." He says, fondly.

"Too strong? I could just steal his VCR. Don't need to rent movies if you don't have a VCR." Eddie says, his fingers moving to settling on Steve's wrist. Steve chuckles again, shakes his head, then stares at Eddie.

"I honestly can't tell if you're joking, so please don't steal anything from him." Steve moves his hand, turns it and slides it up into Eddie's, their fingers wrapping around each other, Eddie makes a weird little face, holds their hands up into Steve sightline, and then he's smiling.

"Looks like I already did." He shrugs, and Steve is about to laugh again, or roll his eyes, when Eddie presses a kiss to the back of his hand. It sort of takes Steve's breath away.

"I said I love you because that's how I feel. Okay? You believe me?" Eddie asks, his brow furrowed as he stares at Steve. And Steve remembers telling him about what happened with Nancy, remembers how Eddie had hugged him. Wonders if he loved him them. Or before that? Or after. But it doesn't really matter, because he loves him now. And Steve watches Eddie's thumb move soothingly over his hand, and knows Eddie means it. Feels that he does. So he nods, drags Eddie's own hand to his lips and kisses it, like Eddie had done.

"I love you too." Steve whispers into his skin. Eddie's free hand is at his chin then, tilting his head just so,

"I know." Breathed against his mouth, and then the softest press of lips before Eddie is leaning away just enough to breathe between them.

"Now look away, cuz I'm about to inhale this entire box of chocolate covered cherries." He whispers, his lips brushing Steve's again as he laughs into Eddie's mouth.

He does actually eat the whole box. Well, almost the whole box. He lets Steve have one, sinks his teeth into it as he holds it in his mouth and dares Steve to take it. And Steve's never been one to turn down a dare. Especially if it's sweet.

And Steve is quickly learning, there's nothing quite as sweet as candy covered Eddie kisses.

#Fates Endless Inkwell #fei #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie blurb #steddie ficlet #my writing #mine #my fic

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nanamimizz · 8 months

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𝐂𝐇. 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝚬: 𝐒𝐌𝚬𝐋𝐋

tags: wc - 2.9k, fem reader, cleric reader, reader worships lathander, features the battle against cazador, nudity, reader washes astarion after the hardest day of his life, gore and violence mentioned. finally a love confession !!let me know if i missed something !

synopsis: after the defeat of cazador, you are there to pick up the pieces and astarion finally learns how it is you smell so sweet.

taglist: @allright @ghostinvenus @ghostbeam @dottores @evergreenren let me know if you would like to be added !

taglist: it is with a heavy heart that this series comes to a close as this is the final addition to the five senses ! fear not i will still be writing for astarion and the rest of the baldur's gate when the opportunity presents itself! thank you all for your love and support for this series it has meant the world to me ! see you all on the other side of kinktober(jjk)!

Never had you been further away from Lanthander’s blessings than now, deep in the underground palace of Cazador Szarr. The brick, stone and marble all reeked of blood and decay. Echoing down each hall was the squeaks of rats, the scattering of their claws and the drips of water from the pipes. This is undeniably an ugly place - Astarion peeks at you from the corner of his eyes as you are all led to the great hall of where the ritual is to be held. A frown tugs at his features at the sight of your stiff posture and frightened eyes.

He would have never wanted you here, to bear witness to the ugliness of his past. Astarion thinks of you on the road - from the woods to the springs where you would pray to bless the day, you belong where the sun shines and the water runs clear. His boot steps into a puddle of watered down sewage and remains of whichever poor sod was once there. The growl that pulls from his lips can’t be contained, and it bounces off the walls until the party stands in a room he remembers all too well.

It was where he was held down as runes were carved into his flesh, his screams so loud he wondered if he almost deafened himself that day.

Astarion can feel it, the all too familiar weight of his master’s presence, the thread in between his eyes that pluck with the command he has over him as he stands before a great hall as his fellow brothers and sisters pinned in the air. Each step feels heavy and with each breath he takes, the smell of this place digs him deeper into the “pathetic memories'’ of his past - his words not yours. Astarion feels something warm being pressed against his hand, red eyes digging down to see that it’s your hand. You, soft and warm, that the scent of the sun clings to even here, even in this place. You don’t go to touch him, in fact all you do is let the back of your knuckles graze against his and it’s enough.

Astarion is almost tempted to stop walking altogether, to tug you into an embrace as to bury his nose into your hair and let the smell of it erase all memory of this place. But it is not to be as the great Cazador Szarr is there all proud in his putridness. His eyes stay focused on Astarion - which he is thankful for, he doesn’t want your image to be tainted by the visage of the vampire master of Baldur’s Gate. His staff glitters in unnatural light, hair sleek and immaculately dressed, he addresses him and you and the rest of the party.

“Who stands before us? Is this truly our prodigal son?” Voice high and mocking,as it was then it is now, all it does is make Astarion scowl and lean forward in clear agitation.

“Do not slouch before me boy! Have you no respect for yourself?” A similar scowling look paints the vampire lord's face, his voice now rough with utter detestment at the sight of one of his seven creations. Astarion feels his lips being peeled back at the sound of his grating voice. It grinds and creeks, the snow-haired vampire thinks you’ve spoiled him by the soft way you speak to him that he can’t stand when he has to listen to others. Which is why his handsome face is scrunched into a venomous scowl as his master continues.

“Look at you, crawling back after abandoning your family. You should be begging for our forgiveness.”

You stay back, but he can see your hand twitch against the pummel of the legendary mace - The Blood of Lathander. When he says the word, Astarion knows you will give the vampire lord a punishment worse than death for the wrath of the sun is not to be trifled with. And it is with that assurance he scoffs at the words that ring through the hall.

“Forgiveness? You’ve never forgiven anything.” The words are cancerous in his tongue as he spits them out. “Every mistake, every slip was punished!” Memories too painful to speak are spoken into every syllable of the words that leave from his lips. Feeding off of rats. Trapped in a coffin. The knife in his back and his screams echoing off these very walls. Retching up blood and dirt.

“I strove in perfection in all things - even those imperfect as you,” Cazador sneered. “A pity you amounted to so little despite my efforts.”

“No! No, fuck you and fuck everythig you’ve ever done to me.” Whatever Astarion wanted to say was caught off by you speaking in turn, your voice as soft as the wind in his hair when he first awoke to the sun warming his skin. Even in this desolate place you are a pillar of strength, a shining beacon so perfectly crafted by the Morninglord.

“We are here for justice. You will pay the ultimate price, by the Morning Lord’s blessing.” You speak, every word promising a radiant, golden death. The sneer of Cazador’s face only becomes more severe.

“I will not speak to cattle. This is between me and the boy.” Astarion hisses, tense at how Cazador dared to look at you, to speak to you and to call you such a thing. Fangs bared and eyes like slits, nothing could have filled the vampire you love with anger, bitter like bile as he rushed at his master. A swear on his lips, his fists raised, the fight began with the room doused in red light - the red of the Hells. From where Astarion was raised and pinned in the air the room was filled with the flames of Avernus but none did burn as bright as the radiance from your mace or from your blessed spells.

There was a bitter satisfaction to the victory of the battle, to being on his own two feet as he dragged Cazador out of the coffin and threw him to the blood covered marble. To see the creature of his nightmares squirm so pathetically, like a worm in the dirt, brought a smile to his face, one that fell when you pleaded with him not to take the power that so sweetly presented itself to him. Red eyes looked at you, truly looked at you and found that even like this, in this disgusting place he wants you.

Astarion thinks of you, all of you.

The smiles, the jokes and the way you have trusted him all this time since you first met. You’ve always hoped for him, saw the best and gave him that in return. Never did you use him, never did you see him as an object - something to be used. How could he do to you what you were always warned he would do? No, he can’t bring himself to do it, to use the souls of his siblings and the unfortunate souls brought here by his hand. The radiance of your heart has touched him, changed him and molded him from a spawn to a man. Asatrion will not deny himself, indulge himself in the pleasure of ramming his knife into his master’s gut again and again but he does so in part of a greater plan. To become the man you’ve always believed him to be. Sooner than he could believe his master lies beneath him, covered in blood and his own organs cut to shreds to the point he could not recognise his liver from his stomach.

The weight of it all, of his decision brings him to his knees and among the stains of blood on his face the silver of his tears are like moonbeams on his pale face. Once again, for the final time his cries echo on the walls filled with tragedy, filled with rage, filled with grief. Your touch is a relief, a gentle reprieve from the shitshow of his life, the tough and smooth skin of your palm curving into his shoulder as your thumb rubs back and forth.

His gaze meets your eyes and finds the promise of a golden future, one burning anew if he just returns all that you feel for him. He uses the hand on his shoulder to help stand, to rise rather than fall into the deceptively sweetened path of power and to do what you have done all this time without faltering.

To do the right thing.

The spawn are released, and his siblings off with a warning to live as they please but the consequences are their own now. Cazador’s staff is slick with blood in his palms, the metal cold now with the death of its master and Astarion wonders if his heart is the same now that the burning anger in his heart is quelled by the blood that decorates his hands. Your thumb has not stopped rubbing his shoulder, your palm cupping all that he is and staying there when he turns to his companions - all of them there with pride and understanding on their faces as they congratulate him on his newly taken freedom. Karlach is the most proud, he can see the embers dancing in her hair as she fights the urge to hug him to the point his bones creak and crack.

A smile is tugged at his lips, twitching before dying as the grief and the end come crashing down. Like always you tug him, leading him and the others into the light of the upper city, Astarion looks up at the stars with vague new found delight. Everything is clearer than it once was, now that the weight of the chains have been broken off, and replaced by the spare cloak you have in your pack that you wrap around him oh so gently with a tender smile. You all settle in an inn, and Astarion’s mind is half gone by the time he notices that the room is different - bigger, more ornate with a big washroom. When he asks you only to hum, looking back at him from the corner of your eye as you strip out from your armor.

“It’s been a hard day, I wanted to treat you to something special.” You say, voice soft as the night while you peel off the last leather piece that protects your form. He only blinks softly, confused and delicate in the night like a blushing maiden. Wide red eyes look at you with only confusion as you come closer, outstretching your hand with the gentleness of the dawn and just as warm too. He eyes the scar from across your palm, the one you got from touching the wrong type of plant in the Emerald Grove - a consequence of your terrible case of sticky fingers. The memory makes him smile and he nods, taking your hand and leaving the cloak behind on the bed. You lead him to the washroom and he gapes at the sight of such a huge bathtub. Not made of wood but of proper marble and plain, filled with pleasantly warm water and the scent of lavender wafting off the soapy water. Astarion turns to thank you and is only met with how you look at him, all soft with tenderness and worry lacing through the flecks of color in your iris.

“When did you do this?” His voice is soft, like this is a dream and a wrong move will have him waking up in the cells of the Szarr palace again.

“When you were sitting in the room. I used runes to keep the water warm but you best get in. It won’t last for so long.” You say like it’s no trouble, like doing nice things are as easy as breathing for you but that’s what your nature has been the whole time. Astarion thinks of the time you two had embraced for the first time, how the goodness you see and act upon are not naivety but purposeful and intentful. This, this is a small gift in comparison to all that you have done for him, one that began with your blood and ended with lavender oil.

It almost makes him weep.

“I’ll be outside if you need me, please don’t hesitate to call for me.” You say softly, holding his fingers in a relaxed grip, one that he could so easily break free of when he needs to, when he wants to. Astarion shudders a breath, eyes crinkled under the weight of your goodness; something you’ve been carrying for oh so long he can’t believe you are mortal and not a god of some sort. His fingers tighten to a hold so tight you can’t help but bite the inside of your cheek to stop from gasping out.

“No…please…please stay. I don’t want to be alone.” His voice is soft, filled with so much emotion you understand him completely with a single breath. You confirm that you won’t leave and ask him if he wants you to turn away while he undresses.

Astarion nods and you listen, turning your back and Astarion traces the shades of your hair in the candlelight when you move so fluidly. He is in the tub when you turn back, his scarred back to you as he sighs at the silken feeling of the water against his tired body. You ask if you may wash his hair to rid the snowy curls of the veil of blood that mars them and again he nods in confirmation. Your sleeves are tugged back, rolled at the elbow as you carefully sit outside the tub and scrub at his hair with an all too familiar scented bar of soap.

A sweet silence fills the room, only the burning of the wicks and the splashing of the water when it moves can be heard. It's nice, he thinks, letting his eyes shut as your fingers work tenderly into his scalp with all the care one would use when holding water cupped in between their palms. The suds of the soap are foamy and thick, out of curiosity he sniffs it and realizes when he recognizes the notes of the scent.

Lavender, sunlight and dawn’s dew.

“Did you realize it was my soap?” You ask, voice soft and teasing as you grin from behind him.

You feel him nod and amidst the tragedy of the day there’s a smile tugging at his lips as he turns to look at you with the familiar mischievous shine of his eyes. When he speaks you catch a glint of his fangs, milky in the warm light of the candles and you smile as he speaks to you for the first time since returning from that awful palace.

“I hope you know this means you’ll be running out of the soap twice as fast.”

“I don’t mind that at all.” You hum back, face ever serene as you raise a smaller bucket to douse the warm water through his hair, carefully detangling the curls with your fingers as he turns again to look at you with wide, glittering eyes. There’s a smile on your lips, it grows softly as the setting sun when you reach to swipe at a particular cluster of stubborn suds that do not wish to depart from his alabaster skin. Not that you could blame them, your Astarion is beautiful through and through - you’d have to be dragged to the pits of the 9th Hell before you ever willingly left him.

“I like the idea of you wearing me on your skin all day, for me to embrace you at the end of it only to realize where it is my soap has gone.” You say looking at him so warmly Astarion wonders if he is to melt under your loving gaze. He can’t help but laugh at your words - pale features pinkening from his recent feeding as he lets your words wash over him like the tide on the banks of sand.

“You’ve certainly developed a tongue for sweetness haven’t you?” A weak comeback but it’s all he can think to say back when faced with all the sweetness of how you regard him.

“I’ve had the most impressive of teachers.” You say back, voiced filled with such tenderhearted fondness Astarion can feel warmth fill the points of his ears as he turns his back to you to try to hide how it is he smiles at your exchange. He sighs dramatically, his bones relaxing under the turmoil of the day as his neck bends to the curve of the bath, posture a little more free as if the weight of his choice finally has settled into the cracks Cazador caused.

“Alright enough of the flattery and poetry - I’m still not done with my bath.” Tucking a stray curl away from his brow you lean over to murmur a small “of course Astarion”, in that soft and spoiling tone that never fails to turn him pinker than he’s been in a decade or so. Before you grab either soap or water bucket you lean over to press a kiss, a mere chaste brush of your lips against the skin of his cheek that now smells of your soap; of you.

“I love you. You don’t need to say it back - but let it be known to you.” You say so softly that the bubbles of the soap don’t pop under the weight of your confession. His nose brushes against yours, full lashes wet and clinging to each other as he looks at you - you see the curtains plea back and you see him for what he is.

A man who loves you back, though he can’t utter the words just yet. That’s okay, your smile says - “I’ll just make a bigger batch of soap next time.”

#lamb.writes #astarion x reader #astarion x mc #astarion x tav #astarion x you #baldur's gate 3 x reader #bg3 x reader

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intheholler · 4 months

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what exactly is a holler?

i have gotten this question/seen it wondered about more than a few times and i've only ever given a short, simplified answer so i thought i'd briefly touch on some specifics about what it is and what it's like to live up a holler

a holler is simply a mountain hollow. it is a narrow area between two mountains, similar to a valley but smaller. much smaller. not all mountain hollows everywhere are rural, but the hollers in the appalachian mountains almost exclusively are.

so in terms of the appalachian holler specifically:

"holler" is the just the pronunciation of the word "hollow" according to the appalachian english dialect.

a holler has a few other defining physical features: a creek, a "mouth" where the creek meets a bigger body of water, and a "head."

the head is pretty much as far back as you can travel up a holler before you run out of places to go. roads ("road" singular is more accurate most times) go up one way; whereas you could, for visualization's sake, imagine a valley as somethin of a set of parallel lines with an entry and exit point on either side, there is essentially only one way up a holler.

as you can imagine, a tiny little one-way holler with no exit sign is pretty secluded. usually hollers were settled by families generations ago and they kept that land in the family.

historically, people up a holler kept to themselves, and they relied heavily on each other, which is where a lot of the "self-sufficient mountain folk" thing comes from. tight knit communities with an "us vs. them" sorta mentality to varying degrees. very impoverished areas.

of course, the hollers remain stolen land belonging the indigenous peoples who lived here before we forced them out. a lot of these modern generations of those settler families are disappearing from them now too due to having to sell land for various reasons over the years. so not every single holler is exclusively occupied by generations of the same community, but living up a holler does still mean you're gonna be a lot more secluded from the rest of the ridge.

hope that clears things up a little for y'all what don't come from here <3

#appalachia #hollers #appalachian history #appalachian culture #appalachian dialect #txt

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randofics · 5 months

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Halitus

Novo amor - Repeat until death

Novo amor - Haven (Life is Strange - True colors)

Optimus tfp x reader Fluff

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

Organics were interesting to Optimus in their bodily functions. Being an archivist was in his programming, after all, so it was in his nature to want to learn more. But he also had an important job to do and thus never had much time for it.

Nevertheless, when he spotted you asleep on the couch, chest expanding and contracting with each breath you took, he couldn't help staring. It was intriguing to think that your brain didn't have to constantly activate and move your diaphragm muscles to make you breathe. It was simply an automatic thing. Meanwhile, his processor was constantly calculating and activating different parts of his body to function and move.

Sometime later, he found himself out at one of his favorite spots in the canyons with you. Snow covered the sandy ground in some places, and the air was cold. The sun was setting coloring the clouds in pastel oranges, pinks, reds, and purples. You had a thick coat on with faux fur on the hood, and a beanie covered your head.

Each breath you let out, he could see in the frigid air like steam, and in the light, it was colored in orange and yellow. Your eyes lit up as you spotted something in the distance, and a smile pulled at his lips.

"Optimus, look a herd of pronghorns!"

In the distance, a migrating herd of pronghorns was galloping into the canyon. Hot puffs of breath came from their noses as they ran. It was amazing to see them in motion, their hooves kicking up snow and sand. They soon came to a stop so they could graze on the brown grasses sprouting from the rocky soil. Some went to drink from the snowmelt creek that had formed in the old riverbed.

"I bet they have such soft noses!" You let out a giggle as you thought of squishing ones nose in your hand. He smiled bigger at your happy demeanor. "Did you know they're actually the only surviving member of the Antilocapridae family? They're also the fastest land mammal in the western hemisphere, topping out at around 55 miles per hour!"

"I did not, that is very intriguing indeed y/n." One reason he enjoyed your company was that you too loved learning as much as he did. And he continued to learn new things from you just as you did with him and the others.

You both sat and watched them for a little while as they grazed. The sun set even further, and the pronghorns moved on. With the last of the sunlight peeking over the horizon, he knew it was about time to head back.

Transforming, he popped open his driver's side door for you to climb in. You step up and sit in his seat, making sure to buckle up. His engine rumbles as he gets back onto the dirt road, and when he stops at a crossing, you lightly kiss the emblem in the middle of his steering wheel. "Love you, Optimus."

"As do I y/n."

#fanfic #transformers fanfiction #transformers x reader #transformers prime #tfp #optimus x reader #fluff

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ijustreallylovethem · 9 months

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watermelon moonshine

the first of a few lainey wilson inspired fics for you guys. hope you enjoy!

18+ content below!!!

jack hughes x reader

words: 2,800

masterlist

your last summer with jack had been incredible. you had spent the days between the lake, the fair, the movies, trying to get in all the time you could with each other before he left for new jersey. this was your last night with your best friend before you left for college and he left for the nhl. he told you he would pick you up around six and the two of you would go for dinner at your favorite diner then go somewhere else, but that was a surprise. he pulled up just before six in what you recognized as his uncles old pickup truck. you said goodbye to your parents and then ran outside and climbed in.

“thank god, i’m starving.” he rolled his eyes as he pulled away, on course for the diner. “so what’s with the truck?” you asked. he just shrugged.

“my dads car is getting worked on so my uncle lended him his truck and it was parked behind my car when i left so they told me to just take it instead.” you nodded, then dove into a story you had heard about a girl from your high school. jack parks in the diners lot just a few minutes later, and you both walk in and take your normal booth. you’re glad you can have one last night of normalcy, ordering the same food from the same booth in the same diner, before you’re both gone, off to do bigger and better things.

after jack pays and you both get back in the truck, you’re begging to know where you’re going next. he doesn’t budge, dead set on it being a surprise, and you cross your arms over your chest and huff. he laughs at your pout but doesn’t give in, so you lean your head against the window and watch the city roll by, soon realizing that he’s driving right out of it. your brows furrow as he makes his way onto some side road, that soon turns to gravel.

“are you planning on murdering me? you know you aren’t smart enough to get away with it.”

“that’s rude. i wasn’t planning on killing you but maybe now i will.” you smile over at jack but your gaze is pulled back through the windshield as you come out to a clearing. there’s a creek that runs along the side of the road before they cross and then curve away from each other again, and on the other side of the creek is a hay field. jack crosses the concrete slab and then goes off the road just far enough down the creek that you wouldn’t be seen unless someone knew you were there.

“how did you find out about this place?”

“my uncle lives out here, told me how to find it,” he shrugs.

“you totally made up the whole thing about your dads car being fixed didn’t you?” you asked with a smirk, which causes him to laugh.

“well i couldn’t have you getting suspicious now could i?” he gets out, rounding the truck and opening the door behind you. you watch as he pulls out blankets and pillows, which you must have missed before.

“did you hide those from me as well?” he nods, throwing them on the bed.

“like i said, couldn’t have you getting suspicious.” you get out and help him set up a makeshift bed on the truck bed, leaning over and opening the cooler that you found back there when you were done. you found some snacks and some waters, as well as a jar filled with a pink liquid.

“what’s this?” you ask him, holding it up so he could see.

“oh, watermelon moonshine.” your eyes darted to him and then back to the jar in your hand. “we can drink it if you want. i planned on us staying out here tonight.” you unscrewed the lid and took a sip, squinting at the taste.

“ooh, that’s sweet.” jack held out his hand.

“let me taste it, i haven’t tried it yet.” you passed it to him carefully and he took a sip, his reaction nearly identical to yours. “oh yeah.”

you spent the next half an hour passing the jar back and forth, talking about random things like you always did. the sun starting setting in front of you, causing the sky to turn pretty shades of pink and orange as it met the horizon. you both had quite a bit of alcohol flowing through you now, not enough to be concerned, but just enough to take away your filter.

“this is all kind of romantic isn’t it?” you asked him, gesturing to the blankets and the sunset.

“yeah, well, i’ve always wanted to do this but i’ve never really gotten the chance. i figured if i didn’t do it before i left then i probably wouldn’t get the chance again.”

“well i’m honored that you chose to share your experience with me,” you smiled, then took another drink from the jar. you fell into a comfortable silence for a moment until jack spoke up.

“can i ask you something?”

“of course, you know you can ask me anything.”

“you know how ever since i’ve been drafted, i’ve had all these girls trying to get with me?” you rolled your eyes but nodded. you were very aware of all the girls suddenly fawning over your best friend, and you hated it. none of them liked him for him, but instead for his status as the first overall draft pick and newest new jersey devil. “do you think that any of them would actually be interested in me? or am i gonna be single forever because they just want the title?”

“i think… i think it’ll be hard to find someone genuinely interested, but if they got to know your personality, they’d be crazy to only want you for the title.” he nods, looking out at the setting sun.

“you know i’ve had all these girls in my dm’s telling me that they want to sleep with me.” you let out a laugh at how surprised he sounded. you had to admit, jack was hot, and it wasn’t surprising that all these girls were throwing themselves at him. “i wonder if they’d still want to if they found out i’ve never done anything like that before.” you watched him carefully, knowing he was falling back into his small spiral. he had been insecure lately about the fact that he had yet to lose his virginity, and you often had to remind him that it wasn’t as big of a deal as he thought it was.

“jack, stop it. you know i haven’t done anything before either. plenty of people haven’t. that doesn’t mean anything other than you were smart and didn’t go fuck some random girl to get it over with. anybody would be lucky to be your first time.” he stayed silent, staring out into the sunset for so long you almost spoke again.

“would you?” you’re taken off guard by his sudden question, not quite understanding what he’s asking.

“what?”

“would you be lucky if i was your first time?” your jaw dropped for a moment, your mind running a million miles a second.

“well you’d be much better than some of the guys in high school that tried.”

“can i ask you something again?” you knew where he was going with this.

“yes. the answer is yes.”

“you’re sure?” you nod. “it’s not just because of the moonshine? you’re not going to regret this tomorrow?”

“jack, if you want me to be your first time then i want you to be mine.” he watches you for a moment, trying to decide if you really were telling the truth or not. when he realizes you are, he leans forward, letting his hand rest against your cheek as he pulls your lips to his. you didn’t expect to feel the spark that you did when your lips met his, but you brush it away and focus on the way he feels against you. he’s gently pushing you backward and you follow his lead, laying down on your back so he’s leaning over top of you. he pulls away, both of you slightly out of breath.

“you’re absolutely sure about this?” he asks again and you nod.

“yes, jack, one hundred percent sure.” he pulls his shirt over his head and then leans down to press one more quick kiss to your lips, then trails to your jaw and neck. you can’t help but gasp as he nips at the skin, one of your hands coming up to tangle in his hair. his fingers tug lightly at the hem of your shirt and he pulls away just far enough to look at you.

“can i take this off?” you nod, sitting up slightly to help him remove the fabric from your body. you let both of your hands find his cheeks, pulling his lips back to yours as you lay back down. he kisses you for a few moments until he’s pulling away again, his lips traveling now to your chest. you know you’ll be covered in hickies tomorrow, and you’ll have to try and sneak in and cover them before your parents see, but you’re too focused on the way it feels to receive them to focus on that right now.

“jack,” you gasp out, and his head flies up to look at you.

“what’s wrong?” you shake your head.

“want more,” you tell him. his hand runs down your side to your jean shorts fiddling with the button. you nod, letting him know it was okay, and he pops it open, dragging the zipper down. he shifts so he can easily slide them down your legs, and then takes a second to look at you. you’re too busy to notice at first, sitting up just enough to unclasp your bra and let it slide down your arms. you don’t notice until you’re laid back down, looking up at him. his gaze makes you slightly bashful, and you offer each other nervous smiles.

“you’re really pretty, y/n. i don’t think i’ve ever told you that.” you can feel your cheeks flush at the compliment.

“thanks,” you tell him, barely above a whisper. “you’re pretty too.” you let your eyes wander shamelessly down his torso to his abs, perfectly toned due to the sport he now plays for a living. you reach out and hook your fingers in the waistband of his shorts, tugging them slightly downward. he helps you, moving your hands and pulling them down, leaving both of you in only underwear.

“oh, fuck.”

“what’s wrong?” you question, confused why he’s suddenly upset after nothing had happened.

“i don’t have a condom. i didn’t really see things going like this.”

“it’s okay. i’m on birth control for my period remember?”

“are you sure?”

“yeah. just still pull out and we should be good, right?”

“yeah, okay.” he nods, as if he’s reassuring himself, but then reaches out to place his hands on her thighs. “can i…?” she nods, lifting her hips so he can slide her underwear down her legs. his follow suit, and suddenly they’re both naked in front of each other. “can i um, can i go down on you first?”

“oh, if you want to.” he nods, but doesn’t move.

“i don’t know if i’ll be any good at it but-“

“jack, it’s okay.” he nods again, though this time it’s more to reassure himself. he carefully pulls her legs open, letting himself get comfortable on his stomach between them. he’s stuck staring at her folds for a moment, taking it all in. he runs his thumb over tentatively and then through them. you let out a small gasp at the feeling, sitting up on your elbows to watch him. he looks up at you and you nod, offering a small smile. he scoots forward enough to run his tongue through your folds and you shudder at the contact.

“good?” you nod. he does it again, this time running it in a circle around your clit when he reaches it. “there?”

“mmhmm.” he lets his lips wrap around it, sucking it in a few times and then running his tongue back and forth over it. you can’t help but fall back against the pillow, a moan escaping your lips. jack takes the hand that had previously been resting on your lower stomach and runs a finger through your folds a few times, then slowly slides it into you. he watches your back arch and your legs tighten a bit around his head. one of your hands comes down to tangle in his hair, and when he curls his finger a bit, you tug slightly at the strands. he lets his finger slide in and out of you, continuing to lick and suck at your clit for a bit before he pulls away.

“can i add another?”

“please, jack,” you moan out. he’s gentle as he adds a second finger to the mix, and your grip on his hair becomes tighter. he lowers his head again, continuing his actions from before. it doesn’t take long for him to pull away completely though, and you’re whining at the loss of contact. he sits up on his knees, scooting closer to you.

“ready?” you nod, nearly ready to start begging for him. “you’re sure? last chance to change your mind.”

“yes, jack, i promise i want this. now please, please do something.” he nods, taking a second to take a breath. then he’s tentatively running his tip through your folds and slowly easing into you. he watches in awe where you’re connected for a moment, then looks up to your face. he can tell you’re a bit uncomfortable so he reaches out to lace your fingers together.

“you okay?” he asks, about halfway in. you open your eyes, finding him looking down at you with concern.

“yeah, just keep going.” he nods, pushing his hips further toward yours until he had bottomed out. he lets out a breath at the feeling, looking up at the few stars that had started to appear. he brings his free hand to your thigh, rubbing his thumb back and forth in hopes of comforting you a bit.

“you’re doing so good, just let me know when you’re good to go, okay?” you nodded, reaching out for him. he leaned down close to you and you pulled him in for a slow kiss. when you pulled away a minute later, you opened your eyes to find him already looking at you.

“okay, i’m ready.” jack straightened himself up, then slowly pulled out until just his tip was left. he was slow and gentle as he thrust back in, setting a calm pace. the way he felt inside of you was too good for words, and he’d say the same for how you felt around him. it didn’t take either of you long to reach your highs, especially once jack brought his thumb to your clit and you started to clench around him. he made sure to pull out, letting his release fall on your stomach and still gently rubbing your clit to help you through. you were both left breathless, taking a moment to recover before opening your eyes and looking at each other.

you opened your eyes first, catching a glimpse of jack in his blissful state. his eyes were shut but his lips parted, taking deep breaths as he tried to calm himself down. his cheeks were flushed and he was slightly sweaty due to the summer air and the previous activities. you couldn’t help but admire him until he opened his eyes and looked at you. he smiled, and you were both reduced into giggles.

“i can’t believe we actually just did that,” he said, reaching over for his discarded shirt.

“yeah, that was crazy.” he used his shirt to gently clean off your stomach, and then threw it near the tailgate. he found your clothes and handed them back to you, and you both got dressed in a comfortable silence. he laid down next to you and then turned on his side.

“i’m glad we did it though,” he said with a small smile, causing you to nod and smile as well.

“me too.” he rolled over on his back and held out his arm, inviting you to cuddle into his side. you did exactly as he wanted, pulling the blanket up over the both of you as you did. you knew tomorrow would be even harder now, and you wondered if this changed anything between the two of you, but you still fell asleep next to him with a smile on your face.

#Spotify #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fic #jack hughes imagine

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themightymoose · 2 months

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trolls au you say?

well.... let's do this... *large inhale*

okay so it'd be a basic swap au where the pop trolls are the villains and the rock trolls are good

"But Moose, isn't that the whole point of the second movie? That the Pop Trolls were the ones who started the whole thing?" Shhhhhhhhh shut up shut up shut up

Anyways-

The plot would basically start from World Tour. But the first movie is a little bit different, but the main character is Barb so we don't really ""see"" any of it.

First movie context: first of all I would want the snack pack to do more and be their own characters, especially DJ (girlie just disappeared off the face of the earth in the other movies) Branch is more like Creek while Creek is Poppy's childhood, gay BFF. Branch also has all of his colors for reasons. So Poppy throws an obnoxiously loud party and Bergens find them blah blah blah (side note: Poppy acts like a mixture between Adam and Alastor from Hazbin Hotel) Branch and Poppy go on their super fun road trip, they still think the other is annoying because they are massive hypocrites. They're kinda in a rivalry, always trying to one up each other with songs, parties, ect. The movie is basically the same. Creek doesn't sell them out and everyone is happy

World Tour: Barb and Riff are siblings for starters. Riff is older and king of the Rock Trolls, also an older protective big bro. Barb kinda has Poppy's personality, making her the odd one out. Branch is the one going out and stealing all the strings while Poppy stays in Pop Village to look after it's citizens. More Pop Trolls are with him, including Creek. Who does not like this at all. Between the first and second movie, Poppy and Branch grew much closer to each other, with rumors going around that Branch is going to be the king of the Pop Trolls. Which everyone is pretty fond of the idea, since he's very popular among the Pop Trolls. And Branch has grown very loyal to Poppy during this time. Then the same thing with the road trip happens, but with some minor changes. Poppy not only wants to take the strings but leave nothing left standing, so Branch also goes to Vacay Island where Bruce and Floyd are and take over that place as well taking over where the Putt Putt Trolls are staying. So on they're road trip they come across Branch's brothers + Viva. Then yeah when Branch takes the Rock string, Creek finally stands up to Branch (Creek probably had a bonding moment with some of the people on the road trip at some point) either way Branch ends up leaving Creek in the rock place while the Pop Trolls go to bring all the strings to Poppy. Branch probably tells Poppy that Creek is traitor and she probably doesn't even question it. Anyway they also kidnap Barb when she lies and says that she's the Queen of the Rock Trolls, while Riff is like "you fucking idiot"

things happen and now the leaders of each tribe are Pop zombies. The ones who aren't hypnotized notice that Branch looks kind of similar to the Pop zombies. Something that Poppy also notices. So apparently Branch would sometimes use the pop string on himself to make him happy and have color so he'd fit in, which Poppy had no idea about at all. Also Poppy has an existential crisis when she learns that Pop Trolls were the reason why they were divided. And things kind of play out the same until the third movie

also Branch gets taken in the third movie instead of Floyd but that's a different post

#dreamworks trolls #trolls movie #trolls #trolls world tour #trolls band together #trolls au #trolls barb #trolls poppy #trolls branch #trolls riff #brozone #trolls brozone #trolls creek #asks

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wintersxani · 10 months

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𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤'𝐬 𝐓𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 | Emily Prentiss x Fem!reader

Warning(s): use of y/n, death of y/n, Emily having to witness it, implied SA, just sad overall

Word count: 2041

Characters: Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan, Penelope Garcia, Jennifer Jareau, Aaron Hotchner, Spencer Reid

Summary: When you get captured by an unsub and your team finds out where you are, your lover and coworker, Emily Prentiss, seeks you out. Only she’s too late to save you.

She blamed herself for not driving home with you the night the unsub took you from outside your shared apartment. The work she had done could've waited... and maybe you would've still been with her and your guys' team. "Emily, we might've got something." Derek informed from across the alley they had been in, where the unsub had dumped his last victim. 'Clock's ticking' was carved into the girl's abdomen, serving as a reminder of the time you had left alive was thinning. Desolately, she stared at this poor girl, just like she had the past two. Seeing the state she was in... she knew what their unsub had in store for you, and it made her want to scream- lash out; hurt somebody. Hurt Robert Delmont- the man who was hiding you.

Emily's gaze moved from the lifeless body to Derek, who rushed over with his phone extended. "Okay, talk to me baby." He eagerly spoke into the phone, examining his coworker's distraught expression as his own heart raced. "I found Robert's house. I narrowed down your area and used the information you guys provided- and I found it. 24 Newberg Road, you're about six minutes away."

Emily hadn't wasted a second before running towards her SUV; Derek on her tail replied: "Copy that, thanks Garcia."

"Godspeed, guys. Save our girl." Penelope spoke from the other end, ending the call to inform the rest of the team as Derek and Emily climbed in the car, speeding to the home you were being held in.

Faintly through the singular basement window, you could see flashing red and blue lights. Relief washed over you as tears fell down your cheeks. You struggled against the restraints you were held in, arms sore from being held in the same upwards position for these past 8 & 1/2 hours. You could hear the steel door creek open and shut as footsteps descending followed. Your relief left you as you met face to face with Robert, who rushed towards you, throwing a punch to your face. "They think they're going to save you."

Your lip was already busted, and you had cuts and bruises marking your whole body. He moved behind you, putting a blade up to your neck. Your breath hitched as he pulled your head back by your hair, whispering in your ear; "Time to prove them wrong."

Emily had already been out of the passenger's side before it came to a full stop, rushing inside the home. Derek followed after her, whisper-yelling for her to wait. She didn't oblige, rather rushed in anyway. In no way was she going to string out the little time you had left. She motioned for Derek to search upstairs, receiving a nod in return. They both should've waited for the rest of their team, but Emily already made it clear she couldn't wait, and Derek understood. This was personal... and time wasn't in their favor, if Robert was following his 10 hours spent with each victim.

Her heart was pounding as she neared every corner, pausing when she observed the steel door cracked open. While she should've retrieved Derek for backup, she went down instead, keeping her gun aimed ahead. The door shut behind her, leaving her in total darkness as it made a beeping noise. Only then did she realize that it had no handle on the inside, but that it needed a keycard, likely installed by the twisted killer who brought women down here, guaranteeing that escaping was out of the question. The air was cold and bitter down here, smelling of metal and mildew; agony so potent in the air. She breathed heavily, continuing her descent as she prepared for what laid ahead.

But nothing could've prepared her to meet face to face with you, strung up and beaten. So vulnerable and broken. A tang of pain struck her heart as she watched your face pinch, tears mixing with the crimson on your cheeks. The knife against your neck made her blood run cold as she aimed at the unsub. "Back away and drop the knife." Her voice came out firm as she remained at a safe distance, not wanting to push the Delmont man. "Ah, Emily Prentiss."

"I said back away and drop the-"

"I do that and you put me in prison, or I kill her and you kill me. Doesn't seem like a win-win situation, now does it?"

"Let her go." She ordered, unable to tell the man that she didn't want to shoot him. If anything, she wanted to torture him for the trauma he had inflicted on you. Make him feel every bit of pain you have felt- every bit of pain she had felt in the absence of you.

"I know how deeply you care for her... she's so... extravagant. I'd want her too. Well, I had her... that's for sure." He chuckled as you shut your eyes tightly. Her lip curled as her eyebrows furrowed, reminding herself of the oath she took for this job. An oath that she wished didn't exist in this very moment. "You son of a bitch."

"You want me to slit her throat right now? I will."

"You know what I want you to do. If you comply, we can negotiate-"

"We both know that's bullshit. Don't we?" He stated, turning to put his lips up to your ear at the last part. You tried to pull away, but he yanked your head back. Emily was panicking because she didn't have a clear shot of him. He was perfectly blocked by your shaking body, and you would be hit in order to get him, no matter the angle.

"You walk out those doors and leave, I'll spare her. Leave her for you to find in a couple days."

"I'm not negotiating this with you."

"I thought you wanted to negotiate? Don't you want her alive?" He started, tilting his head as he watched Emily's expression harden. "I can leave her lifeless if you'd prefer... yeah. Yeah that sounds better." Pounding came from the steel door upstairs as all three below heard Derek's shouts. "Clock's ticking." He grinned as Emily's body shivered, mouth opening to speak. "No. Times up." He finalized; In a swift motion, he sliced your neck open as you cried out. Her body stilled, though her reflexes didn't waste a second to shoot his withdrawn arm. He scampered to the side, clutching his arm as he rushed towards her. She was quicker, firing one final shot that knocked him down for good.

Her gaze moved back at you, watching the blood pour to the ground below your bowed head. "Y/n-" spit from her mouth as she rushed towards you, untying the ropes around your wrists, letting you fall into her arms. You were coughing on your own blood as she tried to turn you on your side, clearing your airway as she applied pressure to your open wound. "Stay with me my love, stay with me." She instructed, pushing the hair out of your face as you looked up at her.

Never had she felt fear like this before as her arms desperately pulled your shaking body closer to hers, trying to keep you curled into her like you would several nights spent together. She'd whisper how much she loved you as she held you dearly as she'd kiss your head, reminding you that in those moments, it was just you two. Not the job, not the world. You were each other's safe havens; the only light outside the dark they faced every day.

"I'm right here. I've got you, love. Stay with me." She spoke quickly, keeping pressure as crimson spilled over her fingers. You were struggling to breath, but you needed to speak; you knew you weren't leaving this basement, just like you knew she was denying that truth. It pained you to be aware of your fate when you had finally found the other half to your soul that spent every waking moment reminding you of what real love was. Slowly, your arm rested on her hand upon your neck, grasping it. Her broken eyes peered down at you as both of you could hear your other team members desperately trying to get through that godforsaken door, calling out your guys' names.

"They're going to get us out of here... and we're gonna get you to a hospital- you're gonna be okay. I- I'm right here." She insisted, clenching her jaw as she fought back the tears lining her waterline. If you saw her break, she was sure you would too. She needed to be strong, but all you needed in this moment was her. "Em-" You tried, unable to continue as blood poured from the corner of your mouth. "Don't try to talk honey-"

"Emily." You managed to get out, choking on your blood as her head slightly shook. "Lis-listen to me." Your hand squeezed hers as she tried to talk again. "You k-know what's going t-to happen."

"No."

"Emily-"

"No-"

"I'm not going to m-make it."

"No! No I don't accept that." She exclaimed, her head shaking vigorously as a sob slipped from her throat. "Em, please-" You tried, but she cut you off as tears now began to fall down her cheeks. "I can't- I can't accept that. I need you. I'm always going to need you." Her voice was utterly broken; already in denial, she couldn't stop shaking her head at you, pushing away the thoughts of what life would be like when she stepped outside of this house, knowing you weren't ever coming home with her.

"I love you s-" You had started, beginning to fade out of consciousness. Her eyes widened as she used her arm from under you to touch your face, pulling your body up to hers. "So much." You managed to finish, though your eyes were slowly shutting. Exhaustion wasn't even a comparable word to what you were feeling. When the pain started to fade, and you began to feel numb, you knew your time was up. "Hey- Stay with me y/n." She slightly shook you; your eyes weren't fully closed, but your eyelids were drooped. "Please stay with me." Her words were quiet, small. So much pain was laced in those four words as she felt the exact moment your life left your body.

Her body stilled as she pulled back to look at your face; eyelids were still drooped, but you were gone. Her jaw slowly slacked as she shook her head, removing her hand from your throat before placing it on your cheek, gently tilting your head at an angle where you would be able to see her. "No- no please!" Sobs were spilling from her lips as her chest heaved, thumb stroking your face delicately. "I need you-"

A loud, ground shaking bang came from the upstairs as she pulled your lifeless body up against her chest, cradling the back of your head over her shoulder as the other hand tightly held your bare waist. "Emily!" Derek's voice erupted from the stairway as several footsteps boomed from afar.

"I love you- I love you so much." She wept, eyes shut tightly as the rest of her team members made it downstairs, halting at the sight. The unsub's body had been the first thing observed, but the sight of Emily cradling your lifeless body- seeing Emily shattered in a way that they'd never seen before caused them to still.

JJ's hand covered her mouth as Hotch lowered his gun, tears beginning to brim in his own eyes despite his usual cold exterior. Rossi & Spencer beside him unable to watch as he turned away, walking into JJ's embrace. Then there was Derek, who stood with his mouth agape, heart plummeting. One of his best friends was forever broken, and the other dead.

Eventually, JJ had to pull Emily from your body, which took a tremendous amount of effort to do. Your lover had refused to let you go as she cried I'm sorry's and pleas for you to come back to her. Knowing you died before she said I love you back destroyed her. She just wanted to hold you; to kiss you one more time. Yet all she could do was kiss your forehead as they removed you from her arms, watching your hand leave hers.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss fic #emily prentiss fanfiction #reader x emily prentiss #reader dies #reader death #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fics #criminal minds fanfiction #reader is bau agent #sad emily prentiss #unsub #unsub captures reader #wintersxani #wintersxani works #wintersxanicriminalminds

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shivada-jade · 6 months

Text

The Greatest Showman lyney x reader

Masterlist

01. A Million Dreams

Lyney’s periwinkle eyes stared at the magician performing on the streets. His starry eyes envisioned himself as the one with the top hat. Making others have their jaws drop and clap excitedly. He wondered if he could ever do the same, maybe even more.

He was about to clap along with the small crowd the magician brought in but was interrupted by his twin.

“Brother, we’re going to be late.” Lynette stood by Lyney’s side and followed his gaze to the street performer. She took note of the cards

Lyney sighed and picked up the heavy luggage. He nodded and reluctantly left his sights on the great magician. Soon, the sounds of the city were gone. The clamorous noise of stagecoaches and hollering for business were soon replaced with the sounds of the rustling sounds of the grass moving with the feathery feeling of the wind.

The twins’ beaten down shoes jumped over creeks and gravel roads. There was a distinct smell of nature around; the kind of smell you recognize under trees when hiding from the sun. Lynette offered to take the luggage in Lyney’s hand. He would only laugh and pull the scratched up bag closer to him.

“Now why would I give it to you when our destination is already in my sight?” He teased her. His eyes swept across the Victorian inspired house. One of the bigger windows placed on the side of the door had someone continuously glimpsing outside while someone taller, presumably older, would nag them and come back with a teapot.

Lyney was about to comment about, but Lynette had already made her way to the grand steps to the arched door. Lyney quickly followed and cleared his throat when it opened.

“Afternoon, sir! I’m Lyney” He placed a hand over his chest upon introducing himself. He gestured to his sister. “This is my sister, Lynette. We’re here from the House of Hearth. You commissioned us to tailor a suit or two?”

The House of Hearth; an orphanage dedicated to enable children to develop life skills and make connections by sending them to commissions. Most people that commission are the wealthy, hoping that by chance the head of the orphanage would visit. Commissioning people from the House of Hearth is almost a political tool to be able to gain the trust of the Arlecchino, a powerful politician. But finding her was always proven futile.

“You’re late.” The man with a stout face opened the door for them wider. His eyes wandered as if looking for a third person. He grunted when seeing no one else. The twins stepped in. Lynette silently observed the tall ceilings and the marble floor entrance.

“I do apologise!” Lyney let out a polite laugh. “Now where shall we begin our job?”

“This way.”

Lynette was the first to follow. She forcefully grabbed the luggage out of Lyney’s hands so she could open it and grab the measuring tape and pin needles. She disappeared behind the man. Lyney had no worries for Lynette. They were used to dividing their work to make things quicker.

Lynette does the measuring, the numbers and the noting down. She did it skillfully. On the other side, Lyney did the flair. The designs and wow factor. It was his specialty, something he prided himself in. Naturally, when Lynette meticulously started working, Lynette slinked around the manor much like a sneaky feline.

His fingers ran over the dust on expensive looking vases and trinkets. He wandered off around the house. His wandering only stopped when his ears picked up voices on the other end of the hall.

“Young master, I am deeply disappointed with your manners as of late.”

“The hibiscus tea doesn’t taste… pleasant. We’ve been sipping tea for hours. Why can’t I just…”

Lyney curiously sauntered in the hall and peered inside the room. He noticed two people. One with a stern face and one with a tired expression. He didn’t mean to pry, honest.

“Why can’t I just drink tea normally?” The younger sounding voice continued. “It’s not like the hibiscus will taste better if I straighten my back and tilt it at a forty five degree angle.”

Lyney sniggered. He made eye contact with the complainer. He said nothing but grabbed a small, empty vase on the shelf nearby and tilted it upwards towards his lips at a forty five degree angle, as if mocking the whole tea situation. However what he didn’t suspect was that the vase had water in it. It splashed all over his face. His jaw went slack and his widened eyes searched around for something he could use to hide his mess.

But the other already noticed Lyney’s mistake and almost spat their tea out. They covered their laugh with a fist and started choking. They excused themselves from the little tea lecture and walked a little faster than normal to Lyney.

The young clothes designer chuckled. “Skipping tea time, Hibiscus?”

“That’s not my name.” They rolled their eyes and gave them a pointed look. “I’ll help you clean before my father arrives and checks out what’s going on.”

“You don’t like Hibiscus? What about Oolong as a nickname, huh?”

They let out a deep sigh to show him their fake tiredness of his antiques. They said their name and Lyney only nodded with a mischievous quirk of the lips. “Ah, I’d prefer to call you Hibiscus. Quite matching. The sweetest tea I know.”

My Dearest, Hibiscus,

You had to pause a moment, reading just the introduction to the letter. Your fingers traced over it once and you tsked. The comma placement was quite interesting. Letters had always been sent back and forth as your father forbade you from seeing a commoner like him, but never was Lyney bold enough to start it off like this. You laughed quietly to yourself and sat at the corner of your bed.

Lynette and I have been faring as well as we can. The House of Hearth is no longer able to support us, because of that, commissions are scarce. Father was kind enough to refer us to the Fatui. Lynette and I might have to go into the Fatui to be able to support ourselves. I’ll still send you letters.

I’ll return.

I don’t have much more ink to write with, so I’ll end it off with a short message for you:

Surprise in the mansion.

Your dearest,

Lyney

You folded the paper and tucked it away under your bed. You soundlessly left your front door and took your shoes.

You followed the trail up to the mansion a little ways away from your own. The gravel was dark due to the rain before. The smell of pine wafted in the air. You reached an iron gate covered with vibrant vines and climbed over it. The boots made a thump when it hit the ground covered with fallen leaves.

The grand door of the mansion was pushed open. The empty rooms that passed by reminded you of the times you spent here with Lyney where your imaginations would know no bounds. Every room had a purpose: entertainment, wonder, excitement.

The dusty attic latch was unbolted and cracked. The attic was where most of the sensational magic planning went into. Lyney would stand in the middle of the ageing wood.

You could vividly remember dragging Lynette to come and watch when Lyney thought he was ready to perform his trick after practicing so much with you. Both of you giggling at many of Lyney’s failed attempts at simple card tricks.

You placed the ace of hearts back in the middle of the deck and Lyney shuffled it. He smirked smugly and pulled out a four of spades. “Is this your card?”

“Hidden talent! Hidden talent!” You cheered with your hands cupped to your mouth. “Keep it hidden!”

Lyney groaned and pulled out another card. “Is this your card?”

His twin smiled with her hands laced in front of her lap like a noble woman. “Ah. More. Do more.”

Lyney took this as encouragement and beamed. “Did I get it?!”

“More practice.” Lynette finished. She gleefully watched as you cackled at her joke and try to comfort Lyney.

“You two are a terrible audience.” Lyney complained. “One day, I’ll be the greatest magician.” He pulled out a book with steps on how to do simple tricks. Your lips quirked upwards as you sided up next to him trying to help break down the process of the card trick.

You wouldn’t mind living in simplicity like this.

You smiled at the memory. He never did manage to get your card right in the end. Your legs automatically went to a small stool as if you were preparing to sit in an audience. The stool wasn’t empty and you had to roll your eyes.

A single rainbow rose and a signature card with a cat on the cover.

Your hands picked up the flower. You spun it around by fiddling the stem between your fingers. Your other hand picked up the card and flipped it over, revealing the ace of hearts.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #lyney x reader #lyney #genshin impact #genshin #genshin fanfic

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zzzzombieboy · 5 months

Text

ok full disclosure this is a stupid fic that i'm only writing because my friend promised me he would draw leon as a cowboy if i did

Leon Kennedy x M!Reader

Leon wanted to get away. He couldn't bear being in the cities anymore, not after what happened. The Midwest was tiring, given that was all he had been around. He wanted to head West, go to the coast, but that would prove to be more stressful than it was in his hometown. East had too many people, so his last resort was going south.

Ever since Leon was a boy, he had loved cowboys. He loved horses, and he always daydreamed about living on a ranch. The fact that he couldn’t ride a horse ruined the fantasy. But he was 22 now, and he could do whatever he wanted. He was an adult. He ended up Texas, out of the city and a more rural area. It was 1999, a hot summers day in July. It would be his first day working on the ranch.

He had driven to the ranch he would be working at by dirt road, lacking any signs or speed limits. He parked in a field, a rugged old wooden shack sitting beside it. There were two other cars next to him, one of which was a 1979 Trans-Am. Its tires were covered in dirt, clearly lacking a wash as of late.

When Leon got out of his car, he could feel the sun beaming down on his face. His outfit, a blue and white button up and a pair of blue jeans, was proving to be not that great of a choice for this 92° weather. He let out a soft sigh as he closed his car door behind him, pocketing his keys and bringing a hand up to his forehead, shielding his eyes from the light of the large burning sun.

Leading from the parked cars was a small path of caved grass, dead against the dirt that lead to the shack ahead of him. He figured that's where he needed to go. He wasn't given any instructions anyways. He walked up the dirt path, arms by his sides until he reached the door. He opened it with a small breath, the warm air continuing to run through the non-conditioned shack.

Behind a desk was another worker. He held a pen in his hands as he worked on filling out a sheet of paper. Leon stepped forward, his footsteps soft against the floor but still causing the wood below him to creek at every step he took. The man behind the counter looked up from the paper, giving Leon a once over before clearing his throat. "How can I help ya?" he questioned, his voice low holding a southern drawl. Leon took in a soft breath, swiping his hand underneath his nose.

"I'm Leon Kennedy. It's uh, my first day." He told the man with a nod, pocketing his thumbs into his jeans. His midwestern accent was evident compared to the people he had heard. He was in the deep south now, and he stuck out like a sore thumb. The man raised a brow, titling his head to the right as he gave Leon another look. His eyes then widened out of remembrance.

He nodded, standing up out of his chair before reaching his hand out for Leon to shake. "Ah, right, Kennedy. You're gonna be workin' with them horses, right?" asked the man, a kind smile spreading across his lips. Leon gave the slightest smile back with a nod. "That's what I was told," replied Leon. The man let out a small breath from his nose as his smile grew a bit more wide. "Alrighty then. I'd say you should head over to the stable. There's gonna be another boy there that'll help you out. He's a bit quiet though, so, y'know, be patient." the man spoke nodding his head to the door that led right of the desk.

Leon lifted his brows a bit before giving a steady nod. "Okay. Uh, thank you." Leon gave another nod, before following the eyes of the man. The man tipped his hat to Leon as a way of saying good bye. Leon didn't have a hat, so the best he could do was return with a nod.

Leon exited the shack through the right hand door, walking back into the beaming heat. He felt blinded by the sudden light against his face, resorting to hovering his hand above his eyes to sheild from the glare. There was another dirt path he walked upon, this one leading directly to a much larger, more sturdy looking stable. The faint sounds of huffs from the horses were audible.

Leon approached the stable with his hands in his pockets, before pulling one out so that he could open the doors. His hand was tentative, he was bit nervous. He knew that someone would be behind the door. He just didn't know who. What would they be like? He hoped that he got along with them well, given that he was probably going to be working along with them for the foreseeable future.

He pushed the door open slowly, being met with the kind scent of manure and hay. His nose scrunched a bit, letting out a small groan from the back of his throat. His eyes squinted slightly as he looked down to the floor. His shoes had already gotten mud on them. He let out a short sigh before glancing back up to the room surrounding him. He could hear plenty of horses, seeing their stables. But at the very end of the rows, he saw a man.

The man held a carrot in his hand, the horse he was standing by nibbling on the veggie and letting out happy huffs. Against the mans face was a small smile, his lips curving upwards and forming a small crease in his skin. His arms, moreover his shoulders, were the most defined part of his body, given that he used most of the muscles in that area every day as he fed, brushed, and exercised the horses. Leon had clear sight of them. He wore a tank top, slightly dulled in color due to various dirt stains and general wear and tear over the years. On the bottom he wore worn jeans, small holes by the knees and the back of the leg, the base of them resting on the ground with brown tint. They seemed just a bit too big on him, having been wrapped around his waist with a tightly cinched belt. His hat was white with a tan strip at the base, casting a shadow over his face.

Small bags were underneath his eyes, but his gaze held a warmth as he interacted with the horse. Leon took in a deep breath. An odd feeling filled his stomach as he continued to stare. His stomach turned, his heart beating a little bit faster. A bit confused with the sudden new emotion, he decided he would ignore it. He shoved both of his hands back into his pockets, rolling one of his shoulders back before starting to approach the man. Each step he took made a crunching noise, but it didn't seem to catch his attention. Leon continued to approach until he was only a few feet away. He cleared his throat. "Hey," Leon started, shifting his weight onto his other foot.

Slightly startled, he flinched ever so slightly, his carrot slipping from his fingers for a brief moment before he caught it. He looked to his right, only to be met with a face he had never seen before. His gaze trailed over Leon, almost analytically, like he was studying his face to commit it to memory. He didn't say a word, waiting for Leon to continue or explain why he was here. "Sorry, I uh, I didn't mean to scare you." apologized Leon with a half smile. "I was told you're supposed to... ah, show me the ropes. I'm new. I-- I'm Leon." he seemed to stumble over his words as he looked deeper into the mans eyes. He bit down on the inside of his lip, letting out a small exhale from his nose.

The man parted his lips a little before giving a small nod. He didn't offer a handshake like the other man, instead he kept to himself. "Y/N." he replied, lifting one of his arms and swiping it against his forehead, wiping off any remaining sweat he could've had. "I... didn't know they hired a rookie for the stables. Forgive me." he muttered to himself, his accent almost silent but still slightly audible in his inflections. Leon tensed a bit when he heard the word "rookie." He felt like he was never going to be able to shake that nickname.

Leon took his hands out from his pockets and crossed his arms over his chest. To most this would feel intimidating, as Leon was a well built man, but Y/N could only see the nervousness hidden behind his eyes. Y/N had yet to make an expression that indicated his opening opinion on Leon. He looked down at the hay underneath the two before looking back to the horse. Y/N scratched behind the horses ear. "You know how 'ta take care of horses?" he asked, not giving Leon another glance into his eyes.

Leon widened his mouth a little bit, tilting his head to the side. "Not at all." he replied, giving a small awkward chuckle.

Y/N perked up his brows in an unamused manner. "D'ya know how to ride one?" he asked again.

Leon shook his head again. "Always wanted to learn."

Y/N let out a soft sigh before looking back over to Leon. He rested one arm behind his head and scratched his neck, just where the base of his hair was. He didn't seem particularly happy that he would have to show this random man the absolute basics, but he could suck it up. He's done it before, he can do it again. Tilting himself onto his heels he gave a small nod, reaching out to the horse in front of him and giving it a small stroke against its nose.

"Guess now is best time as any." spoke Y/N, letting one arm rest by his side as the other went for the hinge to the stable door, unlocking it and bringing it open. The horse was hefty, large, and brown with white spots littering its body. It had a few feet over the two men. Y/N's hand brushed up against its mane, a silky black color giving a small shine from the leaking sunlight from the ceiling. "This is Spencer." spoke Y/N. "He's tame. Doesn't like to kick 'r nothin', but he runs pretty fast." he explained, clicking his tongue once before the horse obediently stepped out of the stable. It stood by Y/N's side. Y/N seemed to be fond of the animal.

Leon gave a small hum when he looked to the horse. It was the first time, at least that he could remember, that he had been this close to one. He could feel its breath lightly hit against his face. "Spencer." Leon repeated, just to get it committed to his memory.

"Thing about Spencer, he gets his hair tangled easily." Y/N spoke. He was inflecting his voice in a way that sounded like he wanted to seem more confident in talking than he was. "So you gotta get real good with brushing. Its real easy. Like brushin' a dog." he spoke, stepping past the horse and stepping into its stable, grabbing onto two brushes that were hooked against the wooden wall. "Ever had a dog before, Leon?" asked Y/N. His voice had a bit of a tremble to it. He seemed to be getting a little nervous the more he was around the blonde.

Leon raised a brow at the question, watching as Y/N handed him a brush. He took it while giving a small nod as thanks. "I think so. I was probably too young to remember." replied Leon with a small shrug, stepping a bit closer to the horse. He brought his brush up to the side of the horses coat, carefully brushing downwards. Y/N paused for a second, his lips parting as I stepped next to Leon.

He grabbed onto Leon's hand, his skin cool against Leon's rather hot body. Leon felt his jaw tense slightly, feeling his stomach turn again. He looked to the man with curious eyes. Y/N's lips had formed a slight pout as he gave a small shake of the head. "To the side, not down." he spoke, correcting Leon's movements. His voice wasn't commanding, but rather understanding. He could feel Y/N's fingers slightly twitch against his own as he guided the movement of the brush to the left on the horses body. It was a more clean pattern, making it more appealing to look at. "Sorry," Leon replied, giving a small chuckle.

Y/N continued to absentmindedly brush along with Leon before he realized that the two were still touching. His eyes widened a bit before he pulled his hand away. He felt his cheeks get a little hot as he cleared his throat. "Keep, uh, keep at it. I just gotta... feed the rest of 'em." spoke Y/N, taking in a small breath before backing away from Leon and the horse. Leon pursed his lips a little bit, giving a small head tilt of acknowledgement as he continued the motions. As Y/N walked away, Leon kept an eye on him.

Y/N walked to the side of the stable, picking up a white bag filled with grains and bran. It looked heavy, heavy enough to make Y/N have to lean on one foot more than the other. He lifted the bag with a soft grunt before throwing it over his shoulder, starting his rounds around each horses food tin. One by one he poured the food in, his face remaining expressionless as this task was pretty mundane to him.

Leon watched carefully from the corner of his eye. He started to drift around the horse, carefully brushing the coat. He felt kind of relaxed when he did this. He could still feel the horses breath on him. It's ear twitched.

About a half an hour had passed by when Y/N had finished refilling each food container. He made sure to clean the tins beforehand as well, wanting to make sure that there was no chance of the horses getting sick. He had broken into a light sweat as he walked back across the clumps of hay littered across the floor, setting the bag back down in its respective spot. Y/N looked back over his shoulder, seeing Leon still gently brushing the horses coat with his eye halfway following Y/N.

Y/N walked back over to Leon and the horse, wiping his forehead once again. "Looks pretty." he spoke, giving a small nod to Leon as his gaze focused on the horses hair. He reached his hand out to Leon, swallowing slightly as he gestured for the brush to be returned. Leon followed the order well and handed the brush back to him. "Thanks." he replied, giving a small smile from the corner of his mouth.

Y/N brought the brush back to where it was hooked in the horses quarters, making sure it was neatly lined up with the wall. He let out a soft breath as he glanced back to Leon. His blonde hair was halfway darker against the shadow in the stable. There was a slight shadow cast across his face. Y/N felt his stomach turn slightly. He didn't know what it was. He chose to ignore it. But he knew better than anyone that he couldn't ignore his emotions well.

Y/N rested his hands on his hips as he gave the horse a small pet. "Y'wanna learn how to ride 'em?" he asked, looking back at Leon with somewhat hopeful, yet tired eyes. Leon's eyes widened a little bit at the request, but he felt his smile grow bigger. One of his childhood dreams was finally coming to fruition. He gave an eager nod, his grin growing wider against his pink lips. "I'd love to, yeah." Leon agreed, watching as the other man’s lips formed their own smile. It was odd, the way Leon felt when he saw it. He felt his cheeks start to burn. He let out another soft breath. Leon's hands rested at his sides.

Y/N looked back to the horse, scratching the side of his face a little bit before he put his hand up against the horse's mane. He seemed to have a fascination with the horses hair. All of the horses in the stable were groomed well, Y/N made sure of it. He was basically the only person that was allowed in the stables, by his own request. But an exception would be made for Leon, since he would be taught by the only one that Y/N trusted. Himself. "You ready, big guy?" Y/N spoke to the horse, a relaxed expression spread across his face as he pulled his hand back away, starting to walk towards the exit of the stable. He clicked his tongue twice, and the horse started to follow behind him. Leon followed as well.

Outside was a large field. Some horses that were outside of their stable were grazing, some chewing on the grass and others trotting around the field. It was a pleasant sight. The sun was halfway covered by the clouds by now, but it's heat didn't die down much at all. It was still bright as ever and made anyone sweat easily.

Leon winced once again when he was met with the bright light of the sun. "Damn it," he muttered, squinting his eyes the best as he could as he looked back forward, following behind. Y/N heard the small hiss and looked back over his shoulder. "Too bright?" he asked, raising a brow. Leon scrunched his face up and gave a nod, his hand going over his eyes once again. Y/N stopped walking for a second, biting down on his lower lip. He grabbed the brim of his hat and pulled it off of his head, handing the piece to Leon.

Leon watched, his eyes opening back up again. He wasn't expecting that kind of gesture from someone who acted the way Y/N did, but he appreciated it nonetheless. "Thanks," he told him, his voice quieter than normal but still showing the warmth he felt. He put the hat on, covering some of the blonde strands and pushing them up against his forehead. Y/N continued walking, but he had his head tilted to the side, able to see Leon's face.

"I have a question." spoke Y/N, scratching the side of his face as he continued to lead Leon and the horse through the field, his focus set on heading to the track they had paved in the dirt father out so the horses could get some good exercise. "You're not from here, I take it." he started, giving Leon a quick once over. Leon gave a nod. "Can I take a guess where you're from? Somewhere in the Midwest, right?" he guessed, his brow raising.

Leon nodded. "Spot on."

Y/N gave a small celebratory cheer to himself, doing a small fist pump in the air. "Figured. You got the whole accent 'n stuff. And the politeness. That's a thing, right? Midwesterners are polite." Y/N was repeating the words to himself, a common habit he had when speaking to people that he often got teased about. He wasn't thinking about controlling the way he spoke right now though. It seemed like Leon didn't mind. Even if he did, at the very least he wasn't commenting on it.

Leon smiled softly as he started to catch up to Y/N's walking speed, the two approaching the track now side by side. "Most of them are, yeah." he spoke, looking to his right to get another glance at Y/N's face. Underneath the sun, his skin seemed to have a sort of shimmer to it that he wasn't able to see before. His eyes were halfway closed, like he had developed an immunity to the suns brightness but still couldn't stand to look at it fully.

"Can't help but be curious what made 'ya come all the way down here. Hell, if I had a dime for every time I wished I could go up north, I wouldn't be workin' at this damn ranch anymore." Y/N muttered to himself with a small laugh following after. Leon let out a small chuckle, his hands remaining in his pockets as they walked.

The two had finally found their way onto the path, the horse letting out a small huff against the back of Y/N's neck. It seemed happy. Settling itself on the dirt, it trotted in it's place, seeming to be excited that it could go for a run. Y/N gave it a small pat on its back before looking back over to Leon. "Saddle broke a few days ago, apologies if it's a bumpy ride." Y/N spoke, before setting both of his hands onto the horses back and jumping upwards, throwing his leg over the side, his hips resting on top of the steed. Leon watched with a careful eye, watching as the man leaped up onto the horse. He could do that no problem. He had done stupid exercises like those plenty of times when he was in the police academy.

He paused for a short second, seeing as Y/N was looking down at him expectantly. "Oh, are you -- you want-- uh," he stumbled over his words a bit before giving a simple shake of the head. "Alright," he muttered, pursing his lips a little. Y/N offered his hand out to Leon for him to grab, just to give a little extra support. Leon followed the movements that Y/N had made seconds before, jumping up with a small grunt before his own legs were on either side of the horse. He smiled at himself, happy that he could do it on the first time. He was finally doing it. He was living out one of his childhood fantasies.

The horse stayed still underneath them. Y/N looked back over his shoulder, locking eyes with Leon's baby blue. "Hey, nice job." he told him with a satisfied grin spreading across his face. Y/N was a bit worried that this would end up being more effort than it was worth, but it seemed like this would be a cakewalk. It gave him a bit of relief. The smile was back. Leon felt his cheeks heat a bit again, but it was hard to tell if it was from Y/N or the hot sun.

Y/N looked Leon up and down before rolling his hips to get into a more comfortable position. "You should, ah, probably grab on. " he spoke, giving a small nod to his torso. Leon's brows raised at the suggestion, his cheeks beginning to show the heat that was on his face, a light tint of pink starting to spread. His stomach turned again. Something was going on in his brain that he didn't quite understand. He let out a small hum before tentatively reaching his hands around Y/N's waist. The man's body was firm, but it was easy to grab onto. At least that's what it felt like to Leon.

The proximity made them both feel a bit warmer, as to what they were reacting to, they had no idea. But they both knew they felt it.

"Spencer, he uh, he's trained a little differently then most horses." started Y/N, looking ahead of him at the back of the horses head. The feeling of Leon's hands around his waist was lingering on his mind. He could feel the touch through the fabric of the shirt. Leon could feel Y/N's halfway-cold, halfway-warm skin through it. It made it hard for either of them to pay attention. "I don't like usin' bits on 'em. I uh, I just give them little cues." explained the man, his hand lifting from the horse and spinning in a small circle. "Give him a little squeeze, he starts running." he started, before tensing the muscles in his legs a bit, squeezing around the body of the horse.

It took the instruction well, and started a steady trot. Leon flinched slightly at the sudden movement, even if he knew it was coming, and tightened the grasp he had around Y/N's waist. "Stop squeezing, he stops movin'. See?" Y/N then stopped tensing his legs, letting them relax, and in turn the horse stopped in it's track. Leon raised his brows, a bit impressed by how well the horse knew the order. "Got it." Leon nodded, a smile spread across his face. "How fast can he go?" he questioned, his head leaning a bit closer to Y/N's ear, his chin almost resting against the mans shoulder. He just wanted a closer look at the horses mane, at least that's what he was telling himself.

Y/N could feel Leon's breath against the side of his neck. He let out a breathy chuckle at the challenge, his head tilting to the right ever so slightly, placing his cheek close to Leon's lips. "Enough to consider it a thrill ride." he replied with a slightly cocky tone. Leon let out another slight laugh at his words. "Wanna show me?"

Y/N perked a brow up at the proposal, looking ahead. The sun was less blaring now, as he could see the track in front of them. The horses feet clacked against the ground excitedly, it's tail swishing back and forth. "Hold on tight, then." he replied, in almost an instant feeling the grasp around his waist grow tighter, his back being pressed up against Leon's front. Leon's body was built, defined, and that translated to it feeling like a brick wall when pressed against it. Y/N's heart was starting to beat faster as he let out a breathy giggle, raising one hand up to wipe his forehead before letting both his arms have a firm hold on the horse.

He tensed his legs again. Much, much tighter this time.

The horse burst into a high speed jog, eliciting a small yelp from Leon. The sound of hooves hitting against the dirt floor and the light laughter from the man in front of him was all he could hear at the moment. The wind felt nice against his face. Y/N was right, it was feeling like a bumpy ride. But he didn't care. He was riding a horse. For the first time in his life he got to live out something that he had dreamed of for longer than he could remember. He had a wide grin spreading across his face.

Around and around the track, Leon was starting to feel less hot on the outside, and more hot on the inside. Not hot, but warm. He felt warm. His body pressed against the man in front of him, he felt good. It was a feeling he hadn't felt in a long while. The feeling lasted, it lingered. He didn't try to shake it.

It seemed that the two had rode on the horse together for a long while, before Y/N seemed to notice something on the horizon. His legs softened the grip that they had on the horse, slowly going lighter and lighter until the horse came to a full stop, right where the track had started. Y/N's eyes were trained on the sky, seeing a dark, heavy cloud begin to fall over the edge of the sun. "Ah, shit." hissed Y/N under his breath tilting himself back a little.

Leon paused for a moment as he felt himself slowly start to come down from the high. "What?" he asked softly. "Did something happen?" he asked. He still kept his grip around Y/N's waist fairly tight. He didn't want to let go. It felt comfortable.

Y/N let out a soft exhale from his nose before lifting one of his hands, pointing a finger to the sky. "Bad cloud. Big storm's comin' tonight." he spoke with a small sigh. He looked back down at the horse before turning back to Leon. "I'd say you should head home. Doubt you'd wanna get stuck in the mud with all those other cars." he advised. Leon could feel his heart sink at the mention of a storm.

Ever since that day in Raccoon City, Leon hadn't been able to handle storms, especially not driving in them. He tensed up a little bit before letting his grip fall from the other mans waist, clearing his throat nervously. "Damn it." he huffed under his breath. Y/N looked back at him with a sympathetic but analytical gaze. He parted his lips, about to say something, but remained quiet. He could tell by the look in Leon's eyes and his body language that it was a sore subject. He pursed his lips before giving the horse a small pat, throwing his legs over the side and slipping himself back down to the ground.

His boots hit against the dirt like a cat jumping from the counter. He looked back to Leon. Y/N held his hand out for Leon to take once more, just giving him a little help getting down. Leon took it with gratitude and tossed his own legs over the side, jumping down from the horses back. Y/N gave the horse a small pet on the nose before clicking his tongue. The horse began to follow behind the two men as they started walking back to the stables.

It was silent for a short minute, Y/N wiping some dirt away from his pants before looking back to Leon. "Take it you don't like storms?" started Y/N, tilting his head so he could get a glimpse at the reaction that Leon would have. Leon took the hat that Y/N had loaned to him off of his head, handing it back to the man. "It's a long story." he muttered, brushing a hand through his hair. It had gotten a little tangled under the hat, and he spent a few seconds fixing it to get each strand back into place.

"I get it." replied Y/N, in his best attempt to hold a compassionate voice. "I'm not the fondest of storms myself. Neither are the horses." he spoke, his eyes going to the ground as he shoved both of his hands into his pockets, letting his thumbs hang out. They brushed up against his belt buckle, sending a shiver down his spine. The soft clunking of hooves remained audible as they walked.

Leon was glad that Y/N wasn't pushing him to elaborate. Instead, he just listened. He liked that in people. He liked that in Y/N. He hadn't even known the guy for that long, but he was starting to grow quite fond of the kid. Little did he know that Y/N felt the same way about him. "You know, I live here on the ranch." spoke Y/N, taking in a small breath. He seemed a bit anxious to say what he had planned. "You could crash with me if you wanted. Not to be too forward, I just... y'know, wanted to show a bit of hospitality." he added, looking back to Leon with more of a nervous gaze this time.

Leon paused for a moment, his brows furrowing, his eyes narrowing in tandem as he processed the offer. After that, he could feel that same heat spread across his cheeks. He hadn't been in Texas for more than three weeks and he was already spending the night with someone. "You'd be okay with that?" questioned Leon, a bit of his dirty blonde hair falling over the right side of his face, covering a portion of his eye. The two had arrived at the stables, and they opened the entrance door again. The horse followed behind Y/N closely.

The smell of manure hit Leon again, but it didn't seem to phase Y/N. Leon's nose scrunched again. "Of course I am. Wouldn't be offering if I wasn't." replied the man, giving him a small smile before making a left turn to the horses stable, the door being left open. He clicked his tongue twice, the horse following the command and walking into its stable with a happy trot. It seemed to really like Y/N. He closed the stable door before reaching into one of the bags he had attached to his belt, handing him another carrot as a treat. Leon stared at Y/N with a somewhat stunned expression before giving an eager nod.

"Oh, then, yeah. That would be... really appreciated, actually." Leon told him, his smile returning on his face along with the slightest shade of pink he held earlier. Y/N gave the horse one final pat on the head before turning back over to Leon. "Sounds good." he spoke, giving a small nod before locking up the stable door. He then started to walk again, gesturing to Leon with his hand to have him follow.

Leon followed close after, soon enough walking side by side with the man he had met only a few hours prior. He could see the darkness start to seep into the stables as they exited it, the dark clouds covering the sun. When the two got back out, Y/N led them the opposite way of the shack that Leon had first entered, instead they were heading towards another small wooden building, about half a mile away. There wasn't as much of a path paved leading to this building, only small footprints.

It was a small silence, but it spoke volumes for the amount of time the two weren't talking. Leon couldn't stand it for that long. "How'd you end up getting a place here?" he asked, a bit curious on how this all came together. Y/N gave him a quick glance before looking back down to his feet to watch where they were going. "Dad's friends with the owner. Used to work on my daddy's farm before he decided to hand over all the work to some other hotshot." he muttered, swiping his hand underneath his nose. "So it's not technically nepotism. Just prior knowledge." he let out a small joke at the end of it, trying to get another smile, a huff, or just another laugh from Leon. He liked Leon a lot. Leon was the first guy on the ranch he talked to that didn't treat him like dirt.

And laugh Leon did. He had a smile spread across his face as he let out a soft chuckle, before folding both his arms over his chest. His boots crunched against the dead grass below them. He liked the sound. "Ah, nice." Leon replied with a small nod. Y/N felt his face heat ever so slightly when he heard the warmth in Leon's tone.

The two continued to walking after the light conversation, and Leon watched as the clouds seemed to darken the sky minute by minute. He could feel his mouth dry up slightly at the sight of it, but he would ignore it. He had a place to stay with this guy who had shown him nothing but kindness and a good time. He would be fine.

Soon enough, the duo had arrived at the cabin. It was made of wood, much like all the other structures on this ranch, but it seemed decently decorated. Y/N opened the door for the both of them as they stepped into the home. Leon looked around, seeing a few posters and various kitchen supplies. It was small, but it was comfortable. There was a black and white couch perched in the middle of the main room, facing a blocky TV with a cassette player and a DVD player right underneath it. On a shelf beside the TV was rows and rows of various movies, seasons of shows, anything you could imagine. It was how Y/N liked to spend a lot of his free time, either reading or watching TV. He liked his media, and he liked to be entertained. "Pretty cozy in here," Leon spoke, his head tilting a bit as he examined the small details.

Y/N gave a small nod at his words. "Thanks." he replied, cracking both of his knuckles as he started to wander through the space. "You uh, sorry, I'm not used to having anyone here. You want anything to drink or something?" he asked, stumbling over his words a bit. He felt a bit in over his head, but it would be okay. He just had to go with the flow. Leon looked back over his shoulder. "A water would be good. Thank you." he replied, giving a small smile to Y/N. Y/N gave the same smile back.

"Couch is all yours if you want it. Doubt you wanna sleep in the same bed as me." he laughed softly, walking over to the kitchen area with a bit of a bounce in his step. He grabbed onto a glass of water and put it under the faucet, filling it up with tap water. Leon let out a small chuckle at the mans words before he sat himself down on the couch. It was nice, comfortable against his back and had a bit of fluff to the cushions. He could fall asleep on it easily.

Y/N walked back over to the center of the room and handed him the glass of water. Leon looked back over to the shelf with all of the DVD's on them, a slightly curious expression on his face as he took the water. "What kind of movies do you watch?" he asked, taking a light sip of the tap water. Y/N followed his gaze, scratching the back of his neck before clearing his throat a little. "Mainly horror. Got some action movies though, too." he replied, looking back to Leon. Leon's brow raised a bit at the mention of horror. "I didn't peg you for a horror guy," he spoke, running a hand through his hair in any attempt to get it to stay out of his face.

Y/N let out a small exhale from his nose, his smile perked on the left side of his mouth. "That's what banning your son from watchin' 'devil worship' does. Gives 'em morbid curiosity." he spoke, walking over to the shelf as he trailed his fingers along the lines of cases. He had them all categorized by genre, then in alphabetical order. Gave him less trouble when looking for something to watch.

"I get that. I never got to watch horror either." Leon replied, wearing the same half smile that the other man did. He watched Y/N's back carefully, watching it shift under the white tank top he was wearing, along with his arms ever so slightly lifting it up, showing the smallest sliver of skin. Y/N looked back over his shoulder. "Y'got strict parents too?" he asked, picking out a movie from the shelf and holding it in his right hand. Leon let out a small sigh at the words, taking another sip of his drink.

"I lived in an orphanage. They had uh, pretty strict regulations." Leon told Y/N, shifting his weight on his hips slightly as he folded one leg over the other. The smile on Y/N's lips dropped, his eyes widening a bit. He felt sorry for bringing it up. "Sorry to hear that," he replied, pursing his lips a little bit before stepping back to the couch, sitting himself down next to Leon. Leon gave a small shrug, not seeming to mind it all that much anymore. He's gotten that plenty. Their arms were only a few inches apart, Y/N's knee barely grazing against Leon's. The clouds outside had grown darker and darker. The rain had started. Leon shuddered.

Y/N cleared his throat again, holding out the DVD casing in front of the two of them. "Ever seen this one?" he asked. On the front of the case was in bold letters, "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre". Leon's eyes studied the case for a short second. "I've seen posters of it, never watched it though." he answered, looking back over to Y/N with a curious gaze. Y/N parted his lips slightly, giving a small glance to the window that was starting to be pelted by the rain.

"It's a great movie, I'm tellin' ya." Y/N smiled back at Leon. "For a movie that came out in '74, it's a lot better than you'd think." he spoke, continuing to hold the case out in front of the two. Leon's eyes widened a little bit. "Shit, that's older than me." replied Leon, his brows lifted as he continued to look at the cover. Y/N gave a nod. "Me too."

"If you wanna, we could watch it. Sure it would take your mind off the... y'know." he spoke, giving a nod to the growing intensity of the rain. The wind outside seemed to be tossing the leaves of trees around, bending them at the roots. Leon took a glance outside but quickly diverted his gaze, returning back to Y/N's face. His eyes were kind, almost gentle. It seemed like he just wanted Leon to feel comfortable. It was sweet. He looked back down at the casing. He didn't know how he would react when he was watching this, but as long as it didn't have anything to do with zombies, he would be fine. "Sure." Leon replied.

The thunder then started. Leon flinched at the sound, his jaw tensing a little bit when he looked out the window. His hands had a bit of tremble to them. Y/N could see it, but he didn't know what to say about it. He didn't say anything about it. He didn't want to show pity, he wanted to show care. This charming man didn't deserve pity. Y/N could see his nerves start to flare. "I'll, uh, I'll get you a blanket." Y/N spoke, scratching the side of his face before he stood back up. He set the DVD onto the table before walking off to the room adjacent, his own room. Leon's eyes followed him as he walked off.

When he came back from the room, he held a white and red blanket with fringes on the end over his arm, like a waiter would hold a towel. Y/N handed the blanket to the blonde with a small nod, before grabbing onto the casing for the DVD again. He walked up over to his TV, pressing the power button. When it turned on, the familiar sound of static filled the room. He hit his hand up against the side of it twice before the screen switched to a menu. Y/N let out a small sigh before he couched down in front of the DVD player, opening the case and inserting the disc into the player. It skipped past the menu screen and just started to play the movie. Y/N stepped out of the way of the TV and looked back to Leon.

The two didn't say much else as the movie started. Leon sat with a blanket draped over his lap, and Y/N placed himself next to him. Leon's eyes focused on the TV, but he could feel the man next to him, the air coming off of him. Y/N folded one leg over the other. His body was starting to get cold.

When it came to storms in this sector of Texas, it seemed like the hot and sweaty weather flipped on it's back the second rain comes around. It got cold, the worst kind of cold. It was something that Y/N had always hated, since he always wore light clothing. Tonight was no different.

Minutes started to pass, adding and adding until they were about halfway through the movie. Leon was enjoying the movie more than he thought. He expected most horror things to be cheesy, or at least that's what he heard about them. But he ended up pretty invested in the story. But he could see from the corner of his eye he could see the man beside him rubbing his hands against his arms. The hair on his arms was slightly raised, his jaw tensed a little. "Hey, uh, you cold?" asked Leon, a strand of his blonde hair falling over one of his eyes.

Y/N's eyes flickered from the TV back to Leon, his lips parting ever so slightly. He let out a soft chuckle, trailing his tongue over his teeth. "Yeah, a little." he replied, giving a small half smile before looking back down into his lap. Leon trailed his eyes over the man, picking up the blanket from his legs. "You can have the blanket if you want," he offered, holding a kind tone in his voice.

Y/N looked back at him, giving a small shake of his head. "Oh, no, it's alright." he replied, his hand lifting from his arm and gave Leon a small wave. Leon narrowed his eyes, looking back down to the blanket he held. "Seriously, I doubt I need it as much as you." he replied, a halfway amused smile spread across his face as he held out the blanket. "Or we could share. I'm sure we could both fit." he offered, one brow raising. Y/N felt his cheeks warm at the offer.

"Oh, ah," Y/N swiped his finger underneath his nose before letting out a soft breath. "Alright."

Leon watched as Y/N grabbed the blanket from his lap, before scooting closer. They were arm to arm now, just close enough but not too close. Y/N lifted the blanket up around, wrapping the fabric around the both of their bodies. Y/N's arms were cool against Leon's. They could both feel the turn in their stomach. Leon's cheeks felt that same warmth. He swallowed a bit, deciding to not speak about it and just looking back to the movie.

The close proximity was filling the both of their minds. Y/N had bit down on the inside of his cheek to mask any show of his breath being unsteady, and Leon was making it known that he wasn't going to move. He couldn't help but to continue to sneak glances back at Y/N. He didn't know what he was feeling, he definitely wasn't used to it. It made him a little nervous knowing that he didn't understand what was going on with him, but he couldn't lie. He didn't entirely hate how he felt. It was almost comforting. These nerves took his mind off the storm at least.

Y/N's body was starting to get warmer underneath the blanket, along with the close proximity of the man beside him. His face felt like it was on fire. He recognized the feeling though. He had felt it plenty of times when he saw the assistants around the farm he used to work at. They were only ever men. He knew that it wasn't normal.

The movie was faint, but it covered up the sound of the rain. The two weren't talking, but it seemed there was an unspoken understanding between the two. They could tell.

The time was passing faster than they expected. The moon was out now, and the thunder had died down and the rain was softer. But telling by the clouds, it would pick up later in the night. But Leon, after a long day of driving and working out every muscle in his arm, holding on for dear life, was pretty tired. He had started to get tired more often.

Y/N could feel something against his shoulder. He didn't think anything of it at first, but a few seconds later he started to feel warm breath against his neck, along with the faint feeling of hair touching his skin. He tilted his head to the side, looking over to Leon. He had dozed off. Y/N let out a small breath biting down on his lower lip as he felt his face glow with heat. He didn't want to wake him up. He was nervous to move. Leon's lips were slightly parted, his eyes resting closed with his cheek against Y/N's shoulder.

It was surprisingly comfortable. He and Leon were alone. Nobody was watching. Nobody to judge. Y/N flickered his eyes to the side of the couch, before looking back to Leon. He gave Leon the smallest nudge to his body, but Leon didn't stir. He was definitely asleep. Y/N trailed his tongue over his teeth before he slowly and carefully readjusted his position on the couch, turning on his back and laying himself down, Leon shifting along with him. Y/N rested his head on the armrest of the couch, his eyes carefully trained on Leon's face to see any shift in expression. He didn't stir.

Leon's head slipped from Y/N's shoulder, now resting against his chest, his breath against the mans collarbone. Y/N's body felt really warm. Leon's body was warming him. Leon's blonde hair fell against his eyes, covering a portion of his face. He let out a small mumble against Y/N's shirt, but he didn't wake. Instead, he shifted one of his arms and wrapped it around Y/N's waist. Y/N could feel his heart start to race. They were so close. But it felt like it should be like this -- it didn't feel wrong, like it did when he was close to other people. This was comfortable. This was nice.

The warmth in his body was almost comforting to Y/N. It gave him this sort of peace. Hesitantly, he decided to rest an arm around Leon. It was nothing big, if anything he could just say it was an adjustment. His hand rested on Leon's back, feeling up against the fabric of his button up. He felt nervous, but giddy. But the feeling was starting to fade away once it had been a few minutes when he himself started to feel more tired. He had been working since 7 A.M. And besides, what else could he do in this situation instead of go to bed?

He let his eyes close, his head tilted back against the armchair of the couch and relaxing with the feeling of another man against him, and the feeling of the warm blanket around him. It wasn't even 2 minutes before Y/N was clocked out. But Leon wasn't asleep. He was tired, sure, but he was conscious. He was good at faking sleep -- he did it plenty when he was a kid.

The only reason he did it tonight was out of pure, unadulterated curiosity. And it turned out better than he thought it would.

cowboy art — @barfeverywhere (blame him for this stupid idea)

he’s sunburnt as a treat

#fanfic #asks #fanfiction #leon kennedy #male reader #resident evil #x male reader #leon s kennedy #leon ass kennedy #brokeback mountain #cowboy #yeehaw #yeehaw au #cowboy au #september 30th…. 1998 #DONT FLINCH DONT FLINCH #friend made a joke about rubbing aloe on his sunburnt back and then they bang

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fandom-junk-drawer · 10 months

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The Witcher Headcanon - Odd Jobs

Witchers make a living by walking the Path. Every Spring, Geralt travels back and forth across the Continent, offering his services in exchange for coin. Most of the jobs he takes involve getting rid of monsters, or bringing back the pieces of them that mages or healers need for their spells or potions. He's also done bodyguarding, bounty hunting, and even the odd job here and there.

Geralt had no idea that the job he was going to take was going to be one of those odd jobs.

He'd been approached by a boy of barely 8 years, begging him to help him get rid of a monster.

Great. A child. Geralt did not like dealing with children. They tended to scream a lot, and p*ss themselves. Or follow you around and talk incessantly, and they had no sense of personal space, like a certain someone he knew...

"Stop doing that with your face, you're scaring the poor boy!" Jaskier admonished Geralt, who was scowling. Geralt attempted to look a little more friendly.

"Well, now you just look like you licked a nekker's ar*ehole!"

"Hm!"

"Just go stand over there and let me handle this."

Geralt waited by Roach while Jaskier talked to the boy. He had probably been sent by his parents while they ran other errands. How inconvenient. But as long as the job paid well...

Jaskier returned moments later, his expression odd. "He said to follow him, and he will show us where he saw the monster."

Geralt frowned, "Jaskier, what the h*ll is going on?"

"He wants to hire you to get rid of a monster? I mean, I thought it was obvious, Geralt."

"I'm being hired by a child?"

"He said the pay was negotiable. We can always talk to his parents afterwards."

Geralt bristled, then 'hmm'ed and looked away, thinking. There were so many things about this that he didn't like. But what harm could it do to go and look? He could tell the boy wasn't lying, and was truly afraid. Geralt didn't want to leave things to chance.

They followed the boy on foot, having left Roach in town since they weren't going far, according to the boy. Geralt 'hm'ed in quiet disaproval as the small human led them off the road, cut through the grass and led them into the forest. Jaskier's eyes were sparkling with excitement when the boy paused and said "This is the way to our hideout. It's a secret, so you can't tell anyone about it!" He looked at Jaskier.

The bard quickly nodded, held up his left hand and used his right to cross his heart.

The boy looked at Geralt expectantly.

Jaskier looked at Geralt expectantly.

Geralt 'hmmm'ed and crossed his heart.

The boy nodded, satisfied, and led them along a path that was little more than a deer track.

They crossed a small stony creek, turned right at a massive, rotting tree stump, and walked down an ancient sunken lane. Jaskier was frantically taking notes and making sketches in his notebook, babbling on excitedly with the boy about the holloway. Geralt knew he was probably already mentally composing an embelished song about a fae tree tunnel or something.

The path was short, and ended at the remains of an ancient stone wall. There was a large hole in it, large enough for a man to pass through. The boy clammered through the hole with practiced ease.

Geralt walked up to the crumbling wall and 'hm'ed' unhappily.

"Oh, where's your sense of adventure?" Jaskier asked as he ducked through the little tunnel.

"It seems to have b*ggered off somewhere with your common sense."

Jaskier's arm poked back through the hole on Geralt's side of the wall. His wrist did a complicated little twist, fingers doing a fluid little dance, and then, with a flourish, he extended his middle finger.

Geralt slapped the hand down and followed him through the wall.

On the other side was an impressive, if somewhat lopsided, and crooked structure that looked like a woodshed with inexpertly done additions. It was a slapped together conglomeration of stones, sticks, various tree parts, and scavenged bits of building materials from the town.

There was also a pack of children of various ages gathered a healthy distance away from the 'hideout''. They huddled tightly together when they saw Geralt approaching, cringing when his shadow fell over them.

Geralt looked down at them, at their frightened faces, and rumbled quietly, making his tone as soft as possible, "I'm here about the monster. Your friend hired me to get rid of it."

One of the children, a girl of about 6 years, inched forward and quavered, "It's a bogeyman! It came out of the corner by the fire pit and screamed at us! It chased us out and we haven't been able to go back in. Merik tried to go in yesterday, and it was still there! It screamed and came at him from the shadows."

"A bogeyman," Geralt said cocking an eyebrow. He looked at Jaskier, 'hmm'ed and said, "A bogeyman," in case Jaskier hadn't heard the first time.

Jaskier gave him a warning look before crouching down, "Can you describe it for him, love?" he asked the little girl. "So he knows what kind of bogeyman it is?"

The bogeyman was blurry, had big, black holes where it's eyes should be in it's deathly white face. It's body was made of inky shadows and wind. And it screamed like a banshee.

It didn't sound like any monster Geralt had ever seen. He decided to just go have a look for himself.

"Stay with the children." Geralt said to Jaskier as he marched off to the jumble of a house. He carefully cracked open the door and slipped inside. It was dark, but he could easily see what had frightened the children. It was up in the rafters in the corner, watching him.

Geralt rolled his eyes and, since no one was around to see him, smiled. Kids and their imaginations.

Jaskier was entertaining the children with one of those inappropriate songs about body parts and bodily functions that kids love so much, when crashing and screaming erupted from inside the house.

The children screamed and joined Jaskier in hiding behind a fallen log. There were thumps, bumps, scrapes, and thuds overlayed by Geralt's growls and shouted expletives.

Jaskier and the children gasped when Geralt came flying backwards out the door, crashed to the ground, jumped up, and charged back inside, roaring like a bull. There was more screaming, more sounds of struggling. The children were peeking over the edge of the log along with Jaskier, imagining the epic battle that was raging inside.

Geralt crashed through one of the windows on the side of the house, rolling and struggling with a black, shadowy thing that was flapping and flipping in his hands.

They disappeard behind the house as they struggled, and then reappeard, rolling on the ground. Geralt punched and kicked, and slashed at it with his silver sword. He gained his feet, grabbed the thing and started beating it on the ground, then pinned it in the dirt with his sword and cast Igni. The thing burst into flames, turning to ash.

Once the nightmare had been slain, the children had calmed down and came over to confirm that the bogeyman was really dead. Then it was time take care of business.

Jaskier watched as Geralt accepted the payment for his contract. He solemnly held out his hand, and the boy dumped a collection of items into it. There was an impressive amount of coppers, and an assortment of bits and bobs.

"You said the pay was negotiable. I'll take this as my payment," Geralt said, taking a cat's tooth out of the pile. He could give it to Yen for her spells. He handed the coins and other treasures back to the boy, then rose and nodded to them.

He was mentally thrown off balance when several of the children hugged him. He patted their heads awkwardly and assured them that their secret hideout's location was safe, then went on his way.

"So what was it?" Jaskier asked as they navigated their way back to the road.

"A barn owl. I cast Axii on it to keep it calm and wrapped it in an old cloak I found in the corner. I let it go when I went around the back of the house."

Jaskier laughed, "So you just stomped around, banged on some stuff, and made a bunch of noise to make it sound convincing. And let me guess, you used Aard to throw yourself through the door?"

Geralt: *Affirmative Hmm*

"Well, it was very believable, especially the part where you were struggling with the bogeyman outside. Very convincing. Have you ever thought of going into theater? You'd make a good actor."

"No. I have too much self respect."

"But you would look so good in hose! You have very nice legs, and such a lovely bott-!"

Geralt bumped Jaskier, causing him to step in a pile of fresh deer droppings.

"My boots! These were new, you jacka**!"

They made it back to town, Jaskier had fodder for his next song, and Geralt had a humorously odd story to tell that winter.

#the witcher #the witcher headcanon #the witcher netflix #twn #geralt #geralt of rivia #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #geraskier #odd jobs headcanon

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swifty-fox · 16 days

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John snorts a laugh, tongue poking against his bottom lip as he ferries the snuff from one side to another.

Gale imagines what it would be like to kiss him. He would taste like toothpaste and tobacco, minty and bitter. His aftershave would fill Gales nostrils, strong enough to taste that on his tongue as well. He’d taste like Four Roses too. Maybe he’d sigh against Gales lips, soft and sweet like the women did in films. Maybe John would come at him with his sharp smile and biting teeth, kiss him til both their lips bled and they swallowed it down like ambrosia.

“I ain’t slept with a girl since ‘43.”

Gale looks over in surprise. John was rubbing his fingers across his mustache pensively, eyes staring out at the empty road lit by their headlights. There’s a tense cant to his body, a silent don’t spoken there. It was a line others knew well. It was a line Gale had always had either the permission or the stubbornness to step over.

“Thought you’d be taking every opportunity to live it up.”

“Yeah, well…” John doesn’t finish his thought, spits out the window again and falls into a contemplative silence.

Gale gives his shoulderr a light squeeze, watches the road fall away to gravel, then dirt, then well worn tracks in knee-length grass. They’re farther out of the city this time, followed the creek further into the countryside. He could hear the water this time, rushing along a few decibles below a roar. Enough to cover up the sounds of any couples that may slip away for some fun, but so much as to hide the sounds of a party well underway.

“Creeks ends at a quarry,” John explains at Gale’s questioning look. “Used to be a great place for diving but they demo’d the ledges after some kid drowned.”

Did he kiss you too? Is Gale’s bitter thought. He’s tired from arguing with John, even if it was the last of their spats in rcent years, tired from his heavy conversation-KfaK(35k WIP)

Get a grip gale goddamn

#swiftywrites #kingdom for a kiss

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rotworld · 7 months

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1: Pit Stop

welcome to the drift, where nothing is as it seems. you're heading north but first you need to stop for gas.

->contains gore, hand trauma, amputation, general creepy behavior.

The shift came sometime in the night. If you had been awake then, you would’ve felt it. The wind was itchy and the sky wound itself up in knots. There was the distinct odor of newness, like the whole world was a cramped, cobwebbed attic and someone had just yanked the door open. In poured the incomprehensible outsideness, and all the frightened things that lived inside cowered instinctively. Some people swear they can hear reality crack apart, the brittle and alarming krikrikrik of a frozen lake shattering in slow motion underfoot but from everywhere at once, but that’s probably just a myth. If shifts sounded like anything, you think, they wouldn’t sound like that.

In the morning, your lungs are sore. You keep having this nightmare where you can’t remember how to breathe. Something fluttered in the dark. Something dragged its cold fingers up your spine. You wake up on the floor, your throat feeling blistered and wrung out. The sun isn’t up yet. The shadows in the room are thick.

“I tried to wake you,” the woman leaning in the doorway says. “You’re the last one up.” She has short hair, you think, a hat rounding her silhouette. Her eyes are shimmery, robin’s egg blue flecked with sunrise pastels like opals. You shouldn’t be able to see them so clearly in the dark. “Eggs for breakfast,” she says. “How do you like yours?”

“Plain, thanks.” Your voice is hoarse, thick with sleep. She’s gone when you look again.

By the time you’ve showered, dressed and dragged downstairs, the sky is a lighter gray. The stairs creak under your boots, carpet transitioning abruptly to hardwood flooring. The coffee shop on the first floor isn’t open yet but the owner has flicked on the string lights dangling by the front windows and set a basket of eggs on the register counter, so fresh the shells are still tinged green. A laminated card propped against the basket displays a hand and a box hovering above the open palm, stylized in the blocky minimalism of a road sign; the symbol for couriers. A larger version of the same sign is plastered at the front of the shop, right in the corner of the door. You snag a few eggs as you wander over to the other couriers, all huddled around a table too small for the four of them. The woman with opal eyes pulls up another chair for you, wedging it in next to hers.

“Morning,” she says. You see her more clearly now, flannel sleeves rolled up to her elbows with a striped shirt beneath. Her hair is brown and jutting out from her beanie stiff like straw. A misshapen chunk of stone hangs from a cord around her neck, pitted on all sides with tiny holes. She bites into the tapered end of an egg, a burst of thick red jelly oozing between her teeth as she crunches through the shell. “You sleep like shit during shifts, too?”

“Not just during shifts,” you admit, rummaging through your backpack for pencil and paper. They make room for you on the table, nudging their notebooks and sketchpads closer to their laps. You’re in Henley Creek so that’s where you start, a cluster of landmarks sketched in the center of the paper with the town name underneath. “Where are you from? And where are you going?” you ask.

“Prismville. Feels due north of here, not close but not too far. Might be a town between. Ever been?” She smiles when you shake your head. “Make a trip sometime. Tell ‘em Kell sent you. They’re good to couriers, they’ll treat you right.” She tilts her notebook towards you and lets you see what she’s drawn, a handful of disembodied ink scribbles floating across the page. It’s an unlucky map. Prismville is the closest town and there’s a gulf of blank space between here and there. She’s marked it with a prickly shape, not quite a star. Everything else is too far to reach before the next shift. “I’m headed to the University if I can figure out where it is,” she adds.

“It might be east of us,” the man on her other side says, scratching his stubble with the end of his pen. He doodles while he talks, adding embellishments to the margins of his map. Headstones. Moths and mountain lions. A spider with too many legs. “It’s usually out east, isn’t it? There’s a few places you can count on. Wild Oaks is always way down south.” He leans over for a look at you, nostrils flaring. His shirt is so shredded and hole-ridden you aren’t sure how it’s staying on him. “I’m from Verlinda, by the way. Trying to get to Aliquando Island, if you know where that’s at right now?”

“I don’t, sorry,” you say. They’ve both put Verlinda on their maps a long way northwest from Prismville with deer crossing signs, but his deer has stranger antlers.

“And you?” Kell asks, bumping her shoulder against yours. “Where’re you from? Where’re you headed?”

You keep your head down, filling in the outline of a deer. “I don’t know,” you say. “It’s northeast of here. A long way northeast. I’m not sure what it’s called, or what’s there.” The table gets quiet. They feel bad for you. You don’t want to dwell on it. “I’ll go north, I think. Anything I should see in Prismville?”

Kell grins. “The Mountain,” she says, rubbing her thumb over her stone pendant. “Not like you could miss it.”

A crowd starts to gather on the sidewalk outside the coffee shop. They clutch cardboard boxes, paper bags with the mouths taped shut and gift-wrapped packages. One hastily scribbles an address onto an envelope against the window. Kell is the first one outside and she’s swamped as soon as she announces she’s going to the University. Nobody cares that she doesn’t know where it is yet—a courier will get it there one way or another, faster than anyone else. The man from Verlinda leaves with a thick stack of letters rubberbanded together and nothing else.

The air is cool and damp. Clouds move too quickly like leaves blown across a puddle. There’s a thorny feeling in the back of your brain, a feeling that won’t leave you alone.

“Prismville!” you call over the restless chatter. “Anybody got anything going to Prismville?” There are a handful of takers: a crate of something heavy that rattles. A few jars of cloudy liquid with some lumpy preserved thing gently floating in each. A wax-sealed letter. You heft everything into the back of your car and pull out of the parking lot, and only then does the tension fall away from your shoulders and your jaw unclench. You have a compass in the glovebox but you don’t need it. Home is northeast, your heart says. Something tugs at you from beyond the shifting haze of fog on the horizon. Old brick buildings give way to hilly suburbs and sparse farmhouses. Claustrophobic streets widen into three-lane blacktop. Soon, Henley Creek is vanishing in the rearview mirror and you are on the road again.

[NOW PLAYING ON THE RADIO: IS THERE ANYONE OUT THERE BY WELLMESS FEAT. CHRISTINE SMIT]

Legend has it that couriers like you are born out here, deep in the connective tissue that holds the Drift together. It’s not true, of course, but it must make some kind of sense to the people who don’t feel Home like a harpoon in the chest. They’re just trying to make sense of you. Most people only see the road, if they see anything at all through the fog. They aren’t paying attention to the grassy banks and gorges beside it, the redness of the soil right outside Compass Hill or the knee-high wildflowers in Verlinda. You could wander blindfolded and smell the difference between the earthy, fungal tang of the Stillwoods and the University egg gardens long before the welcome signs popped up to greet you. It’s not that the roads are any different for couriers. You’re just looking when they think there’s nothing to see.

The highway curves gently. A car slides into the passing lane and zips past you, the only other driver you see for a while. Something sprints through the fog on all fours, keeping pace with you for several miles before it breaks off and vanishes into the trees. The sickly sweet chemical stench of Henley Creek’s factories is just starting to wane when you realize you forgot to get gas in town. At the same moment, a blue sign comes looming out of the fog. PIT STOP: NEXT EXIT, it says. There’s no logo, no flair to the text, just the same terse uppercase font that announces speed limits and four words.

There could be something between here and Prismville. There could also be nothing, just the Drift stretching out lengths of highway like unraveling thread. You aren’t sure you want to risk it. You aren’t sure you want to stop either. You miss the exit trying to decide. You can push it, you think. You’ve gone further with less. The blink of a turn signal flashes in your rearview mirror and another courier speeds past. That four-legged shape comes loping up to the roadside again, not quite close enough to break through the fog, and you can still just barely smell Henley Creek. A sign comes. PIT STOP: NEXT EXIT.

You curse under your breath. Reluctantly, you take the exit. A sharp hairpin turn leads you to a gas station just off the highway, the metal canopy edged with eerie red neon that turns the fog to blood-colored mist. The words PIT STOP glow white above the door. There’s a pickup parked at the side of the building, still running, nobody inside. You pull up to a pump, take a deep breath, and head for the gas station doors. There’s no one at the register.

A bell chimes as you open the door. “One sec,” you hear, a grumble from somewhere in the shelves. There’s a mess in the gap where someone could step behind the counter, a sludgy wet spot and a halo of floor to ceiling spatters. It’s definitely blood, still fresh enough to drip. There’s a squelching sound somewhere in the store. A door slams. The gas station attendant comes sauntering out of the back with a wide smile.

It’s the same one you always see here—the only one you’ve ever seen. Big and broad-shouldered, calloused palms and short, dark hair. His smile is just a little off, a little too big when the rest of his face exudes menace. He wears a long black apron over his uniform, saturated with glistening spots of what could be oil, water or blood invisible until the light hits them just right. “Hey there, courier. Sorry about the mess,” he drawls, sidling up to the counter without even a glance down to make sure he isn’t stepping in it. He rubs his red fingers over the apron, wiping a new stain across the front. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m at pump three,” you say.

“Mhm?” He rests his arm across the counter and leans forward. He’s giving you that hungry look he always does, drumming his blunt, bloody nails in an uneven, faltering rhythm. “And how do you wanna pay?”

You glance back at your car, out at the fog. Stalling. The attendant’s gaze burns into your back. “The only way you’ll let me pay,” you grumble. You hear a muted click and clatter; dice rolling against his palm. He beckons you forward with one finger.

“C’mon, courier. I’ll let you pay all kinds of ways. I just don’t want your money,” he says. He stacks the dice on the counter between you, three in a little tower. “Besides, you know the rules. You don’t owe me anything if you win.” The blood on the ceiling is starting to congeal into something sticky and unpleasant. It drips infrequently, in big, gummy clots. “We’re playing Highwayman,” he says.

“I know,” you say.

He ignores you. “The target’s fifty-two. We alternate rolls. If you go over, you lose. If you roll two wolves, you lose. If we both go over, whoever’s closer wins.”

“I know,” you insist.

He chuckles and rolls first, counts up his numbers; a one, a four and a five. His eyes linger on your hand when you pick up the dice. You catch him licking his lips. “I’ve been hearing rumors lately,” he says casually. “Trouble down south. Up north? Wherever the Stillwoods ended up this time.” You roll, count, and wait for his turn. This is the easy part. “They’ve been seeing hermit seegris in the area. I’d tell you to watch yourself if you’re headed that way, but those things don’t tend to stay in one place for long.”

“Hermit seegris?” you echo. “Never heard of those. What are they?” Click. Clack. Clatter. Two sixes and a five. You’re ahead.

The attendant hums. His turn is quick. He barely holds the dice before he flicks them out of his hand. “Like a hermit crab. But a seegris.”

“You’re not gonna tell me what a seegris is, are you?”

He grins. You think he’s just enjoying being a jackass but his gaze is lower, by your fingers. You rolled a two, a three, and a wolf. Your heart skips a beat at the blotchy silhouette. It could be anything, honestly. A couple pine trees. A rabbit. A butterfly, if you squint. It’s the shape that’s bound to show up on any die face if you roll it in the Drift often enough. “You know,” the attendant says, “I hear you roll wolves more often if you’re nervous.” Now he’s taking his time, fondling the dice for a while before he tosses them on the counter. Your palms are sweaty. You almost drop the dice on your turn. “You ever think about retiring, courier? Is that even an option? Your type don’t live long enough to get old anyway.”

He just keeps talking. You don’t stop him. You’re hardly paying attention to a word out of his mouth, just rolling and counting and rolling and counting, each one harder, slower, more nervewracking than the last. Eventually, you toss the dice and his hand comes down hard over your wrist, trapping it against the counter. Your roll hasn’t settled for more than a fraction of a second but you know. It’s the look on his face. His eyes match his smile for the first time since you walked in, his face lighting up with glee.

A six, a one, and a wolf.

You look at him and he looks at you, his other hand dipping below the counter and returning wrapped around the heavy wooden handle of a meat cleaver. “Two wolves! Isn’t that something?” he says. “You look nervous, courier. Come to think of it, I don’t think you’ve ever lost before. I guess everybody’s luck runs out eventually.” He grins, thumb stroking your pulse. Your stomach lurches. “But hey, you got close. Forty-nine! I’m feeling generous so I’ll give you a discount. Either way, gotta pay up. Safety or certainty?”

You shake your head, stammering. “Wait, wait, I—”

“Safety or certainty. Those are the options.” His grip tightens when you try to wriggle away and he yanks you closer, sending you stumbling into the register counter and sagging into his grip. “Want me to pick for you?”

“No,” you say quickly. He hums, unconvinced. “Wait, listen, okay, how about, uh…how about…”

“You’re young, aren’t you?” he says conversationally. He makes you splay your hand open, palm flat against the table. “Awful young. Haven’t lost anything quite like this before. Don’t you worry, courier. The more you drive these roads, the more you’ll get used to it. What I’m taking is so small you won’t know to miss it. Might wake up one day and realize you were better off without it.”

“Wait, wait, no,” you beg. He’s not waiting, not even hesitating as he raises the cleaver over his head, your voice rising to a panicked pitch. “No, no, no, nononoWAITNO—!”

The blade comes down in a blur with a solid THUNK. The sounds your body makes are muted in comparison, so distant you don’t hear them over your own screaming, but there was the ripping of flesh as soft as a page turning, the crack of bone snapping and splintering. There’s oozing, throbbing pain shooting up your arm and the prickling wrongness of something not being where it should be, something that doesn’t listen when your body tells it to move. You sink to your knees without the attendant holding you, surprised through a haze of agony to find you still have a hand. There’s a gushing stump where the little finger on your left hand used to be. Shuddering connective tissue flexes and flinches in the wound.

“You want me to wrap that for you?” the attendant asks. You lurch away from the counter with your hand clutched to your chest, sucking in shaky breaths. “Courier,” he says, shaking his head like you’re the one being unreasonable. He cradles your severed finger in his palm, gazing down at it like something precious. “Go on, fill your tank. And be careful out there. The Drift’s a dangerous place, you know. Monsters everywhere.” He lifts your finger to his mouth and gives it a good, long lick, smearing your blood across his tongue.

You mutter an insult and shoulder through the doors.

(next)

#rotpeach writes #goretober #the drift #you would not believe the day i have had lmfao life itself conspired against me getting any writing done today #tomorrow will hopefully be more normal

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