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em-writes-stuff · 2 months

Text

presumed dead

day 23 of @febuwhump

supervillain, hero, villain, and medic

1887 words

warnings: captivity, cursing, stress positions, implied past torture/abuse

Supervillain leans against the wall, arms crossed in front of her chest. She rolls her eyes and kicks off the wall, walking toward Hero.

His head hangs low to his chest, if not for the rope tied around his stomach, he would be slumped over. His legs and arms are bound to the chair, keeping him from moving.

Supervillain grabs a fistful of his hair and pulls his head back, forcing him to look up at her. His eyes open and he yelps in pain.

“What the hell?” He shouts, trying to free himself from his bindings. Supervillain pulls down harder on his hair, pulling his attention to her. He stills and smiles, “Oh, it’s just you.”

She lets go of his hair and takes a step back. “You know why you’re here.”

“Oh, I thought you’d gotten over him!” Hero says, slouching forward slightly. “Tell me it’s not about Villain.”

“You need to pay for what you did to him,” she says, anger dripping like venom from her voice.

Hero chuckles and looks at her, his head tilted. “Don’t you mean what I’ve been doing to him?”

Supervillain’s face falls, she takes a step back and shakes her head. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh my god, you didn’t know.” Hero says. “How could you have known? I mean, I told you I was going to kill him. I told you I had killed him. I even sent you a fucking finger in the mail. But I thought somehow you knew.”

He laughs and runs his tongue along his teeth. Supervillain shakes her head, “You-” she exhales sharply. “What? You didn’t-”

Hero cuts her off, throwing his head back laughing. “I didn’t kill him!” he extends his neck as far as it goes and whispers. “He’s been with me the whole fucking time. And boy, can he scream.”

Supervillain sniffs and swallows the sobs swelling in her throat. “Where is he?”

“There’s an abandoned building…just off the highway about a mile and a half from here,” Hero says with a smile. “If you hurry, you might make it before…well, you’ll see.”

Supervillain runs out of the room, slamming the door behind her. She looks at the map tacked up on the wall and finds the building Hero was talking about.

She runs to the kitchen and grabs the first-aid kit out from under the sink and runs outside. She dials a number on her phone as she turns the key in her car.

“Hello?” the voice on the other end says.

“Medic?” she asks, voice shaking. She pulls out of the driveway and turns onto the highway.

“Supervillain?”

“I need you. Um…Villain needs you.”

There’s a moment of silence and Medic shuffles around, sending static through the line. “Villain’s dead, Supervillain. Remember?”

She shakes her head, “No, he’s not. I thought- I thought he was but…just. Please meet me at my place. Please. I- this is important to me.”

She waits, silently begging them to say something.

Medic takes a deep breath, exhaling heavily. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Please hurry.” she begs, hanging up and stepping out of her car.

The warehouse stands in front of her, boarded up. She runs around to the back of the building and peels a board off from the siding. She ducks inside and bites her bottom lip.

The air is musty with a tinge of iron floating around. Light filters in through holes in the roof, illuminating the dust in the air. A gas mask sits on a table, mostly clear of dust.

It catches Supervillain’s eye and she walks up to it, covering her mouth with the collar of her shirt. Behind the table, there are dozens of pictures tacked up on the wall.

They’re all of Villain in different positions, each more painful looking than the last.

In each picture, his body is contorted, ropes tied around his legs and arms, holding them in impossible positions. Bile rises in her throat.

She holds a fist to her mouth and swallows thickly, turning from the pictures.

In one corner of the building, she sees a lumpy mattress. She hurries over to it and sees Villain’s hair poking out from under a blanket. It’s longer, matted, and caked in blood and dirt, but it’s Villain’s hair.

She looks up and blinks, trying to fight the tears threatening to run down her cheeks.

A whimper pulls her attention and she drops to her knees. “Villain?”

She takes the blanket off of him and gasps.

His right leg is tied to itself, calf flush with his hamstring. His left foot is tied to his right thigh and his knee is secured against his chest with a bow, making it so that he’s lying with his back curled. His right arm is locked under the bend in his right leg, wrist tied to a rope around his neck. His left arm is tucked under his back, knuckles against his spine.

“Villain, it’s me, it’s Supervillain. I’m gonna get you untied.”

“No,” he shakes his head weakly and points at something with his right hand. “Loo…”

She searches for what he’s pointing at and freezes when she sees it.

A bag of sand is spilling onto the ground, slowly loosening a rope tied to another bag, significantly lighter than the emptying bag. If the smaller bag falls onto the pressure plate underneath it, it’ll trigger a gun trained on Villain.

Supervillain stands up and grabs the rope right above the small bag of sand. She cuts the rope with her dagger and sets it on the ground. She turns the gun away from Villain and goes back over to him.

“Ok, I took care of it, let’s get you out of here, yeah?” she nods to herself and falls to her knees, unsure of where to start.

Villain makes a pained sound, “Left arm. Start…with my left.”

She nods and gently coaxes his arm out from under him. The blood rushes back into his arm, turning it pink. Villain mutters and sucks air in through his teeth.

“What next?” she asks.

“Other arm,” he says, gasping.

She cuts the rope connecting his arm to the rope around his neck and sets it on the mattress at his side. She works her dagger blade under the rope around his neck and starts to saw away at it, forcing herself to ignore the bruises along his neck and collarbones. She unties the bow keeping his knee against his chest.

He falls back, head hitting a thinner spot in the mattress. He moans in pain and turns his head away from Supervillain.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I should’ve-”

“I’m fine,” he interrupts. “Just get me out of here.”

She cuts the rope keeping his foot flat against his right thigh and his leg flops onto the mattress, blood flooding to the areas that the rope was.

Finally, she cuts the rope binding his right leg together. Villain breathes sharply and shakes his head, trying to keep the leg from moving.

“What are you doing?”

All he can manage is, “Hurts.”

“We have to go, Villain. Sidekick has to know Hero’s missing by now." She pulls him up and he tries to stand next to her, but collapses.

“I’m sorry,” he says, tears welling in his eyes. “I- I can’t stand.”

She shakes her head and loops an arm around his waist. “Totally fine, I’ll help you.”

He whimpers and tries to stand up, but as soon as he puts weight on his foot, he falls again.

“Ok,” Supervillain says, thinking. “I’ll just carry you.”

He nods and she puts an arm at the middle of his back and the back of his knees. She lifts him and carries him to where she came in at.

She looks at the hole she made, then at Villain, and back at the hole. “Any ideas?”

Villain nods and squeezes his eyes shut. “Put me down…” he exhales shakily and opens his eyes. “Then go through, and drag me out.”

“Right.” Supervillain says. She nods once and…does nothing.

“Supervillain.” Villain says. “Hurry please.”

“Right.” she says again.

This time, she squats and puts Villain on the ground close to the exit. She ducks through the hole and reaches for Villain’s hands. He flinches and pulls his hands away from her.

“Sorry.” He rushes. He puts his hands back where they were and lets her grab his wrists.

She drags him through the hole and picks him back up, holding him close against her. He curls against her, face buried against her shirt.

“Ok,” she says, stopping. “I’m going to put you in the backseat and drive home. Alright?”

All he can manage is a nod.

On the ride back to Supervillain’s house, Villain slowly stretches his arms and legs, letting the muscles get used to moving again. His eyes stay closed, the bright light of the sun unfamiliar to him after the months he’d spent in the warehouse.

The familiar bumps in Supervillain’s driveway alert him that they’re almost done driving and he sits up slowly. Supervillain opens his car door and holds her hand out to him. He takes it and she pulls him out of the car, looping her arm around his waist to keep him upright. Medic’s car is in the driveway, door open.

They jump up from their spot on the porch and rush over to Villain’s side. They fuss over him, checking him over for any serious wounds before pulling away.

Supervillain unlocks the door and pushes inside, forgetting about her guest.

Hero cranes his neck to look at who’s at the door. He smiles when he hears three sets of shoes.

“Aren’t you going to check on me?” He asks, voice booming through the house. “I assume you haven’t forgotten about me.”

Villain freezes, recognizing the voice instantly. His entire body tenses and he shakes his head. “No.” he stumbles back and his back hits the door. “No, what-what’s he doing here?”

Supervillain urges him forward, “You don’t have to worry about him, he’s tied up in the hallway. Just…get to the couch so Medic can look over you and I’ll deal with him.”

She drags him to the couch and sits him down, “I’ll be right back.”

Villain breathes rapidly, barely keeping upright. “Don’t- don’t let him…”

“I won’t. I promise.” Supervillain interrupts. She disappears into the hallway.

Medic kneels in front of Villain, unzipping their go-bag on the floor next to them.

“Hey,” they say, tapping his knee. “Deep breaths. Calm down, you need to trust Supervillain.”

Villain inhales shakily and nods, he exhales and pulls his legs to his chest. Medic does a quick once-over of him and wraps a blanket around his shoulders.

“You’re going to be alright, but it’ll take time. Your muscles are…”

“I’ve been tied up for five months, I’ve known they’re atrophied. As long as I’ll get better.” he says, pulling the blanket tighter around himself.

They nod, “You’ll have to work hard, and may never get back how you were before, but you’ll be alright.”

Villain sniffles and tears fall down his cheeks. He wipes them away with the blanket and curls more into himself. Medic zips their bag back up and sits next to him, arm slung over his shoulders.

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dilfwaynes · 3 years

Note

hi!! can i request a hc of the batfam reaction of their eastasian!reader gf experiencing racism? thank you <33

just a reminder if you took place in any involvement of asian hate block me rn bitch :)

a/n: i hope you enjoyed this anon, i tried to make it accurate without stepping over any boundaries since im not asian myself. if anyone finds any sort of this offensive pls dm me !!

warning ; racism, batfam beating hoes, mention of blood

parings : bruce wayne x asian!reader, jason tood x asian!reader, dick grayson x asian!reader, stephanie brown x asian!reader, tim drake x asian!reader, damian wayne x asian!reader

BRUCE WAYNE:

it’ll honestly take a minute for bruce to realize what happened

when first entering the store he took notice of the man glaring but brushed it off thinking it was directed towards him as bruce wayne

you however didnt really pay attention to the dirty looks being thrown at you

with bruce excusing himself to the restroom and makes a promise of a quick return, you wander around the area by yourself

it was all fine until a man approaches you, giving a fast glance at him before turning away. there was definitely something up with him

“you don’t belong here”

your head shot up at his words, looking around you to make sure he was talking to you

“excuse me?” you lift an eyebrow at him, knowing what he was hinting at

“you fucking heard me, you don’t belong here. go back to your country.”

you inch away as he steps closer,”you better back the fuck away..”

he simply gives a smug face only coming closer,”or what?” you tighten your jaw when he loosely lets out a slur, your fists clenched.

“or i dislocate your arm.”bruce’s voice rings out, deep in anger as his eyes flicker to you and scanning to see if you were ok physically.

the ugly bitch’s face pales when he realizes who’s your boyfriend. without hesitation bruce yanks him away from you, slamming him to the wall

demanding for a first and last name, squeezing his neck when the guy stays quiet

shaking he gives in and tells, flinching when bruce slams him against the wall one last time before dropping him

“i guaranteed whatever poor status you do contain i’ll tear it completely, say goodbye to your job.” he grabs for your hand and brings you into him as you both walk away.

“i’m sorry i shouldn’t have left you alone, my fault,”he presses a kiss to your temple.”and please don’t think any worth of that garbage’s words.”

you shake your head,”he was just some lowlife, not worth thinking about.” you reply leaning into him.

he looked at you and could tell no matter what those words still hurt somewhat and it angered him to no end

no one deserved to hear that disgusting shit, especially not his girlfriend.

his eyes hardens but doesn’t push further to make you anymore uncomfortable than you probably already are

giving another kiss to the side of your head he makes a quiet promise to himself not to leave you alone anymore in public with disgusting people like that around

jason todd:

as soon as the slur leaves the guy’s lips jason’s fist collides to his jaw, no doubt shattering it

you and jason were grabbing lunch at some restaurant slash bar since it was the first time in a few days jason was free

everything was okay until you got up to go to the bathroom and some guy bumped into you

jason watched with hardening eyes as you apologize instead of the guy who slammed into you

“watch where the fuck you’re going at.”

you fall shock at the word, staying in place

while jason is on his feet in no time, swinging to the asshole’s face

screams were heard as well as the sound of bones breaking from his fist impact, the guy stumbling to the floor

“you racist fucking prick that’s my girlfriend you ugly fuck,”lifting him by his shirt he grabs his face and turns him to you.”apologize to her before i break your fucking face.”

he quickly rambles apologizes, crying in fear or pain. most likely a mix of both

jaaon lets him go and gives him another punch, this time to the nose. finding satisfaction at the pool of blood now seeping out

jason grabs your hand and starts to lead you outside,”let’s go eat somewhere else and forget about this shithole.”

you barely had time to give a reaction to anything as everything happened so fast

“hey look at me, don’t listen to that worthless fuck and his fucked up mindset. i dont know what to say to comfort you since i never experienced anything like this.” he stops at the car, placing his hands onto your shoulders

you nod sighing lightly, you only wanted a simple lunch with your boyfriend but instead got hate crime for simply breathing.

“it’s nothing i haven’t gone through before,”he shakes his head blue eyes filling up with rage.

“no one’s gonna be doing that anymore, or at least getting away with it while i’m around

DICK GRAYSON:

he was completely taken by surmise at the slur being thrown at you, as well as the fault of you being the root of the covid 19

but before he had any time to react you were already on your feet glaring,”the fuck you just called me you piece shit.”

before he could reply you already kneed him and punched him between the eyes, dick laughing at the cries of pain

“you want me to take over or you wanna handle it babe?”

even how badly he wanted to beat the shit out of the pos the choice was yours

you denied and wanted to handle this on your own

but everytime the guy tried to get up dick would just shake his head and tell him to stay down, or simply push him back down

eventually if you start going too far richards would pull you away and tell you hes not worth it

he understands your anger but he doesn’t want you to past a line you won’t recover from bc of some worthless grime

“c’mon, he’s not worth anymore of our time. lets go eat pizza.”

DAMIAN WAYNE:

swing first talk later

he’ll just look at guy for a few seconds with a blank face

then he’s literally knocking them out

will probably kick him into the wall or ground

u dont know if you wanna pull him away because you already the tabloids, or if you wanna let him continue to beating the guy

damian probably wouldn’t realize how much he beat the guy to a pulp until you’re tugging him away

nudging his neck with to your nose to try and calm him down

he’ll end the fight with spitting on him tbh

your face reddens with anger when your eyes met the racist bitch, enjoying the view of his blood on the floor

“racist piece of shit,” he hisses before finally turning his back brow still frowning with anger

unlike the others (mentioned) he also knows and experienced racism and understands your point view way more

and know bow to comfort you better tbh

afterwards he’ll talk to you and comfort you, as well as opening up about his racist encounters, as well as his mothers.

if you’re still upset about what happened some hours later he 100% offers to beat up the guy again

you laugh it off cos hes serious about doing detective work, finding the guy and beating him to a pulp

you thank him but deny his offer and settle to confiding into him and just telling him how your feelings

STEPHANIE BROWN:

“are you fucking serious right now bitch?”

steph deadpans staring at the girl who called you the slur with ease, going on about how you were the cause of corona and to go back to your country

shocked at the words, hearing all of this before but it still doesn’t fail everytime you hear them

turning to you and seeing the hurt on your face from the word, she quickly turns to seeing red

without a second thought she grabs the collar of the woman’s shirt

“you’re gonna fucking apologize to my girlfriend right now or i’m gonna slam your face into the floor and break it

you stay still, pleased at watching the girl shake in fear under steph as she chokes out a mesh of a shit rushed apologizes

stephanie throws her down to the ground after her third apologize

“are you okay?” she knew you weren’t but asking the question would lead into the stage of comforting you

you nod but go on to tell her that this isn’t the first or last time this will happen, but it still never fails to shock you

she frowns at your experiences and doesn’t quite know what to do to help since she never went thru anything like that

she offers to take you to your favorite restaurant and end the day in wayne manor watching whatever you wanted

smiling when you accept, pulling you in her and pressing a kiss on-top of your head

“dont worry i’ll beat any jackass that pulls any racist shit.”

TIM DRAKE:

i think he’ll be the less violent one out of everyone

he would honestly be so disgusted and gross out at humanity and how the woman thinks shes superior just because she’s white

if it was a guy saying what was said, then he would probably hit them ngl

but he takes the higher road with the woman, belittling and ending her with his vocabulary

and you’re pretty sure that his words hurt her more than an actual punch would

you laugh when he compares her built to a buffalo

he then goes on to a more education lean, explaining how skin tone has nothing to do with a person, and she should adapt to modern times and stop being a racist cunt

after he ends it he goes on to find out who she is and email/call her workplace to inform what kind of employee they have

probably also goes on to make sure she wont be hired anywhere else

comforts you alot and and will get you anything you want

prob gets you both milkshakes as you vent to him about today and other racist things said to you

hates how you have to go thru any of this for simply existing

the incident opens his eyes and he starts talking to bruce about opening a charity for ‘stop asian hate’

would shy away from the press and say you both came up with the fund

u’ll dismiss that rq and tell everyone it was all tim’s idea

all the money goes people got assaulted and paying for any hospital bills or anything needed

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vanillann · 3 years

Text

the third rule debacle (emily prentiss x fem!reader)

a/n: this request spark something in me. also my wlw are always so soft omg it’s so cute

word count: 1.9k

warning: swearing and sexual innuendos

emily prentiss masterlist

Emily Prentiss had three rules that she followed in her life, she normally didn’t like these types of rules but these three were important.

Rule one was never to let her mother know too much. She learned that the hard way after she told her mother about this boy she liked or thought she liked, and she invited his entire family to dinner to talk about it.

Rule two was never let Penelope say she’d be DD for a night out. She never actually stayed sober, she loved pretty drinks with umbrellas in them, and Emily didn’t mind being sober most nights.

Rule three was don’t ever date a coworker, which is something Emily was known for at FBI Headquarters. She just thought it made things messy and complex for no good reasons, close friends were great but anything more was a bad idea.

Until they got a new teammate from the CIA, who asked to work closely with fewer international crimes, who sat across from Emily with a sticky sweet smile that made Emily have a sweet tooth.

She hated rule three so much it was giving her stomach aches because she sat there like a goddess and Emily wondered why she even made this rule anyways. She was starting to look dumb every time she’d wink from the other side of the bullpen at her or when she told Morgan he “wasn’t her type” then turned to look at her.

“Come on Em, you’d look so hot together!” Pen moved her glass on the table, her word somewhat slurred and Emily was confused about how she was already wasted.

“I think I’m on Pen's side this time,” JJ tilted her head to Pen but never lost eye contact with Em. JJ was getting annoyed at the pinning, so annoyed she started ranting to Henry about it.

“I don’t date coworkers,” Emily played with the glass of water in front of her, playing with the droplets as they fell down to distract her from her own problem. Could it be easily solved? Yes. Would it be? Probably not.

“But what if she is your exception,” JJ spoke sincerely, so sincerely it scared Emily shitless.

Pen slammed her fist into the table, her mouth wide open as she sang “you are my only exception” and Emily recognized the song quickly. It was Hayley Williams for crying out loud.

“Who’s an exception?” Em looked over her shoulder at an overly confident Morgan and normally she would have loved to see him but it made her feel worse. Morgan was supposed to pick up (Y/N) which meant she was now here and Emily would be left pining for her all night.

“(Y/N),” JJ spoke softly, looking around Morgan to try and find the girl in question.

“She’s getting a drink over there.”

Emily looked to where Morgan’s finger pointed, smiling lightly when she spotted the girl leaned against the bar with a little smile on her face. Even under the rough bar lights over her head, she looked like something you’d rip from the magazine just to tap it to your wall.

She looked like everything Emily wanted in someone, minus working together.

“Just drop the silly rule,” Morgan dramatically rolled his eyes, watching Emily come back down to Earth.

“It’s not a silly rule, it’s serious!” Emily looked between her friends, hoping at least one would back her up but she was left empty-handed. She knew they were right, it wasn’t that serious but it felt serious. What if it ended in flames?

She already came to the team late, would they kick her off over this? Yeah, okay, maybe she was overthinking it but to Emily, this was the biggest reason she didn’t date coworkers.

“Ladies!”

(Y/N) came around the corner like a fast-moving bullet, her arms wrapping around JJ’s shoulder in a hurry. Her excitement bounced off her to Emily quickly, like it always did.

“(Y/N)! We were just talking about you!” Pen reached for the former CIA agent, her hand flying over her mouth as sound as she realized what she said.

“Glad to know I’m a topic of conversation,” she smiled slightly at Pen, squeezing her hand before she spun and spotted Emily watching her. A smile was quick grace on both of their lips, which just made the rest of the team's points made.

“How could we not talk about you,” Emily did her best for the comment not to come off too flirty but by JJ’s smirk she failed miserably.

“Well I hope it’s dirty like my martini,” the girl winked, smiling when the taller dude from the bar brought the drink over with a smile to the girl's energy. Emily shook her head and smiled to herself.

How couldn’t you adore that?

“So, is Spencer coming or-” she trailed off, looking to her other teammates to find her answers about the sweeter boy.

“He’s flying out to see his mom tonight,” Morgan nodded, his smile flatter slightly but he bounced back quickly.

“Man, I was hoping he’d be here so I could see him dance!”

The conversation was easy there like it always had been. (Y/N) was a great fit for the team, had everyone wrapped under her finger in seconds without trying. Emily knew she had imprinted the team forever, she had imprinted her forever.

“(Y/N), look at this baby panda!” Garcia reached across JJ, her pink blinged phone glittered under the lights of the bar. Without much thought, Pen pushed her phone father until her knuckles pushed the martini from the hardwood table into (Y/N) lap.

Her face was one of shock, looking down at her lap as the liquor pooled in her lap. Then a little smile painted across her cheeks and suddenly she was laughing, like throw your head back and make the room stop laughing.

“Better not let my PO find me,” she joked, smiling when JJ took the few napkins from the table and tried to clean up the little mess that was made. Pen continued to apologize, her eyes welling up with tears before (Y/N) reached for her hand.

“Pen, it was just an old Green Day shirt. Don’t worry sweets, as long as it wasn’t the Chemical Romance we’re clear,” she smiled at Pen, which made the blonde release drunk giggles.

“I’m gonna go clean up,” she waved off the table, taking a few of the napkins JJ had with her as she pushed back everyone until she found where she was looked for. Emily watched her back until she could no more, her eyes suddenly trained on the door.

“Go talk to her, I’m begging you,” JJ reached across the table, her hands clapped together with pleading eyes.

“Rules were made to be broken Em,” Morgan shrugged, his body already moving so Emily could slide out the small wooden booth.

“Says the FBI agent,” Emily smirked and Morgan slid out the booth anyways. She knew they were right, it was clear as day she needed to confess something. She knew (Y/N) felt somewhat the same, she at least hoped.

Her boots were moving over the sticky floor of the bar before she registered that she left the table. Her mind followed the same route (Y/N) did seconds ago. An older man reached out to catch her attention but she walked right around him. No soul could get in the way of her right now, because she finally was ready to break rule three.

Fuck rule three, rule three was made for the scared girl who didn’t know what she felt like, but she was going to find out.

Her hand lightly pushed open the door to the bathroom, smiling when she spotted her standing in front of the mirror with the paper towels in her hand. She looked up from her shirt, smiling at Emily in the mirror than looking back at the mess.

“Gotta piss?”

“Oh god no,” Emily let out a little laugh, she didn’t say anything funny but she knew she couldn’t stay serious if this was going to go her way.

“Good, I wasn’t giving my bathroom,” she smiled under her breath, something Emily never found that attractive before she did it.

Emily finally walked into the bathroom, letting the door lightly shut behind her. She realized how harsh the red tank top as a leather jacket was against the white tiled of the bathroom, but standing next to the girl, woman, in the Green Day tee with a stain down the front and the most acidic washed jeans she’d seen, she felt right where she belonged.

“Can we talk?”

“Of course Em,” she spoke without looking up, her hand moving to the tap to turn on the water.

“Are you free Sunday?”

Her hand stopped on the cold water knob, her eyes slowly moving from the tee to her own eyes. She couldn’t believe she had said it that smoothly too. She didn’t stutter or try to fight it. She didn’t wanna fight now she felt anymore.

“Why?”

“I was thinking dinner,” Emily leaned on the wall beside the sink, her finger coming up to her mouth as she bit her fingernails, cursing Spencer for bringing it up as her nervous habit, now she can’t stop.

“Like date dinner?”

“Hopefully.”

Emily gave her best smile, hoping that would make her more inclined to say yes, although she was hoping she liked her more to just say it to start with.

“I thought you didn’t date coworkers,” (Y/N) turned so her side was leaning against the sink, her body now facing Emily’s right on. That just made her more intimidated.

Emily didn’t really know what to say at first. Does she give her the long version about how she thinks they’d be good? Does she just tell her things have changed? As her brain wrapped around something to say, her brain went back to Pen singing the Paramore song and she couldn’t stop the smile that split her face in two.

“You’re my exception,” Emily spoke the words casually, shrugging as if she didn’t think over her words over words forever.

But it was worth it as (Y/N) smiled, pushing off the sink and reaching out from Emily. Her hand curled at the back of her neck, her face pulling closer to her own as their lips collided. Emily could feel her lip gloss running off her own lips onto her own, and nothing made her smile more than knowing she had proof now.

She was kissing her and her lips were as soft as frosting and Emily was so thankful for her sweet tooth. She was her sugar high she’d never come down from. As their kiss became the ghost of one, the world filled back in. She remembered she was in a dingy bar bathroom while her liquor ran into her shirt more and more.

“I’m actually completely free this Sunday,” (Y/N) licked her lips, smiling to herself as she looked up at Emily with the most innocent look in her eye.

“Never pictured you tasting like strawberries.”

Emily smirked, leaning in for another because she needed a taste of what breaking rules felt like.

“You thought about how I’d taste.”

“Oh all the time,” she rolled her eyes and smirked but leaned in herself because while she was her sugar, Emily Prentiss was her spice and she wasn’t going to stop reminding them both.

Emily smiled a little harder as she exited the bathroom because she both ruled three for the girl she’d break the law for.

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#emily prentiss is hot #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss imagine #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss imagines #bau x reader #criminal minds x reader

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morganas-pendragons · 3 years

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Goodbye For Now | Din Djarin

I had a dream the same day this aired that incorporated Goodbye by Avril Lavigne... and yeah, this was born. I put a lot of my own experiences into this fic. It’s very personal. Regardless of that, I hope you enjoy!

tag: @earthtokace / @kyber-queen / @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol

This is literally the first fic in years I’ve used Y/N and it’s just one line for the fic, and I think it’s the longest fic I’ve ever written on Tumblr.

Word count: 5.1k OOPS

After

In the quietness of a little room in the back of an inn on Nevarro, the question asked by a grieving Din Djarin rolls around in your mind. You hadn’t been able to give him an immediate answer. It was too fresh. Too heavy.

What’s the hardest part about letting go?

As The Mandalorian sleeps fitfully behind you with his arm wound tightly enough around your waist to ensure you do not disappear in his sleep - because has he not sacrificed enough? - you ponder his question as much as your sleep deprived mind is able.

Din.. I think the hardest part about letting go is being able to accept that the people you’re letting go of aren’t apart of your life anymore. They aren’t physically with you anymore. They aren’t imprinted on your memory, on your soul. You just have to let it... fade. Let them fade until they're just a story.

Your eyes flicker down to the ring that lays on your left finger.

But in a galaxy as remarkable as this one... There’s always that glimmer of hope that someday, maybe someday... they’ll come back to you. That they won’t leave you.

“And Grogu will never leave you Din.” You whisper, wrapping your hand around his forearm and lightly squeezing it as you settle into the warmth of his embrace. “Never.”

Before

Your blood chills in your veins at the words, “I go alone.” because there is no possible way in Sith hells you are allowing Din to walk onto that cruiser alone. As Bo-Katan reiterates the plan to the crew around you, your eyes are focused on the rigid and silent Mandalorian standing across the holo-table.

You’re not coming with me.

Are you really naive enough to believe I’m letting you go alone, Din? You snap, to which he winces at your sharp tone. If Gideon is half intelligent as I think he is, he’ll have installed impenetrable defenses on those dark-troopers. You'll need a Jedi to get through them.

You can practically feel the burn of his gaze through the helmet. It’s obvious he wants you with the larger group, but you refuse to bow when the life of your son is at stake. If he’s going to retrieve the baby, you very much intend on remaining by his side to ensure the safety of them both.

Until the end.

Fine. You stick by me, don’t say a word- He pauses and swallows the reluctance in his throat that dies when he meets your eyes through the helmet. You know he’s looking at you... and you know how fearful he is. And please, don’t die.

You beam. Dying without you, Din Djarin? I have no intentions of doing that anytime soon.

The two of you disengage from the shuttle, trekking through the bodies left in the wake of the women in the landing bay as you move in the direction of the brig. Doctor Pershing had disclosed that Gideon had been keeping the baby there, so there was no reason to believe that he wouldn’t still remain within the same cell.

Your blood roars in your ears as you disengage the lock on your staff and hold the hilts of each saber in your hands. The Force envelops you in its comforting hold - wraps around your bones and your scars and your muscles and invigorates you with a strength you haven’t felt since before The Republic fell - and guides your steps that will lead you in the direction of the little one who holds a large piece of your heart.

The other piece is held in the hands of The Mandalorian.

Din. You murmur. I just need you to know that you may see a side of me today that you’ve never seen before. If that in any way changes how you feel about me-

He stops you short just as a pair of Stormtropers jog past. Nothing will ever change how I feel about you. He sounds certain, almost confident, in his answer. The sound of it makes your chest warm.

Never?

Never.

It’s right there on the tip of your tongue. You’ve only said it to each other once in the time that you’ve been together, but you’ve never desired to say it more then this moment, but it doesn’t feel right. It’s too rushed. Dancing too close to the edge of anticipation as you seek out your child.

Your heart nearly jumps out your chest as Din sprints in the direction of the doors where the dark troopers are emerging and one lone soldier has escaped. Before you can react, the man you love is being held against the wall in an iron grip and a fist is repeatedly pounding itself into his helmet.

“Din!”

The Dark-Trooper turns its eyes on you, and you’re suddenly flung into a lifetime of battle skills that kept you alive when you’d served as a Padawan in The Clone Wars and on the front lines of The Rebellion. You slide forward on your knees and remove the legs of the trooper just as Din impales the thing with the Beskar spear slung across his back.

“I’m fine-” He rasps, extending a hand to hold you at arms length as your trembling hands tighten their grip on your saber. It’s not often that Din comes face to face with Death when you're standing right there. People are petrified of Jedi. There aren’t many of them left. Mandalorian bounty hunters, however... They can be more expendable. Easier to break then one who is gifted with The Force.

“C’mon. I’ll take point.”

Right here. The Force whispers its assurance as you both stand in front of the nearest cell, and the moment the door opens you are granted with the sight of Moff Gideon holding the dark saber in front of Grogu.

Buir. You’d completely forgotten the baby had bonded himself to you in the days just shortly after you’d found him. He’d rarely used it. He’d only ever opened himself up to project his emotions onto you in order for you to know when something was wrong, but the minute you see him sitting on that bench, he’s talking to you.

Grogu holds his hands out as if he’s reaching for you, wide eyes pleading for you to remove the Force Suppressant handcuffs that envelop his tiny hands. Buir.

Tears prick your eyes as you ignite your saber. The other sits idle on your hip just out of reach.

“Drop the blaster,” Moff nods to your saber. “And your saber. Slowly.” The two of you drop your weapons simultaneously. “Now kick them over to me.” Before Din can do so, you wave your hand to throw your weapons just out of reach. “Very nice. I didn’t know Jedi could be civil.”

The venom drips from his words. “If you’re not careful,” You warn. “I will show you what I look like when I am not civil.” A split second passes as you watch the fear flicker through his gaze before he’s tightening his grip on the dark saber. Moff had not, to your knowledge, encountered any kind of Jedi up until this point. He only knew of their abilities. Not of what they were capable of - with the dark or the light - with The Force at their disposal.

The damage you could cause....

“Give me the kid.”

“The Kid is just fine where he is.” Gideon replies, to which he begins moving the dark saber back and forth just to hear the satisfying hum of its kyber that rings within the hilt. “Mesmerizing, isn’t it? It used to belong to Bo-Katan.” Din stops short at his statement. “Yes. I know you’ve both been traveling with Bo-Katan. Friendly piece of advice, assume I know everything. Like the fact that your wrist launcher has fired its one and only salvo.”

Your gaze is still trained on the kid. Did he hurt you? Your voice is gentle as you prod at the shields that Grogu has placed inside of his mind. For someone who has little to no training, he’s rather good at making sure nobody can reach the most vulnerable places of himself. Ad’ika, it’s okay. It’s your buir. Did he hurt you?

Din and the Moff are still talking as your son lifts his head, meets your soft - and familiar, he hasn’t felt this safe since he was last on Tython, knowing you and Din were out there protecting him - gaze, and shakes his head.

Bless The Maker.

You shake yourself out of your reverie at the Moff’s words. “I see your bond with him. The bond the Jedi has made with him,” He comments, disengaging the dark saber as he moves away from the baby. “The two of you can take him, but you will leave my ship immediately and we will go our separate ways.”

The Force coils itself around you. Tightens around your arms as if you pull you away from the baby, and just as Din moves to pick him up, whispers danger before The Moff has reengaged the dark saber and slams the weapon into Din’s jetpack.

“Din! Go!”

Buir. You throw yourself right into the line of fire, regardless of the threat to your own life, and envelop Grogu in your arms as the fight between the Moff and Din carries out into the hallway. Safe.

You aren’t sure if he’s talking about himself or you. Regardless, you cradle him against your chest and bring your knees upward to shelter him within your manse.

Yes. Safe.

The cuffs fall to the floor with a snap of your fingers.

***

You’re straight up itching to punch Bo-Katan right in her smug face. After bringing Gideon to the bridge where the rest of your team awaits you, the Moff confesses the origins behind the Dark Saber - which for some reason is a tradition, despite Mandalore’s loss, that Bo-Katan still follows because it is what she knows - and the Princess of Sundari refuses to take it back from Din.

“You are so stuck in your old ways, Bo-Katan.” You snap, Grogu still cradled in your arm as you pace the width of the bridge. Din still wields the blade and grasps the Moff in the other hand, hardened gaze set on the thick-headed Mandalorian before him. “Wake up! This is not your sister’s Mandalore-”

The youngest Kryze whips around. Shock and disbelief writes itself into your features because that is the only time you can recall seeing such a fire lit within her. “Don’t you dare speak her name-” She snarls, pointing an accusatory finger at you as the two of you step toe to toe. “Or even think of her.”

You are so tempted to release your biggest secret, the one you’ve been keeping from everyone - even before you met Din - for your own safety. You hadn’t even told the Skywalker's about it.

It’s fortunate you didn’t obtain the auburn hair.

“Why don’t you kill him now and take it? It’s yours now.”

“What is?”

“The dark saber.”

Bo-Katan will not relent. Until she wins that saber in combat, she refuses to even lay a hand on the dark saber. You find the entire thing amusing given what your former Master had told you in hushed stories underneath a starry sky about Clan Kryze. Stubborn, prideful women. Satine’s pride had earned her an early grave. Bo-Katan, however... that remained to be determined.

“I yield. It’s yours.’’

Din is too good for the throne of Mandalore. All he wants in life is a ship, the baby, and you. That is what drives him to hand the dark saber over to Bo-Katan. That is what drives him at all.

You know about the Dark Saber. You’ve heard the tales surrounding it since you were small, stranded on a home world you’d have rather never seen again with your father and a thrumming lightsaber crystal. The Force will be with you. Always. He had made that promise just before he died, and you had carried his words with you ever since. That man had sheltered you, raised you, made you his own.

And as Din watches you hold that Dark Saber out in front of your hand, he finally sees the resemblance. He sees the ferocity in your gaze and the defeat in Bo-Katan’s, he sees how similar you too are in both personality and physical appearance.

What the kriff?

“He’s right. The power is in the story, not the weapon.” Darkened eyes meet your own as your pulse thrums erratically beneath your grip on the Dark Saber. “Ironic how a Jedi raised on Coruscant knows more about Mandalore then most of the people in here, two of which are from Mandalore.”

“Who said I wasn’t from Mandalore?”

Before the two of you can argue, one of the alarms begins blaring on the opposite side of the bridge. The dark troopers have breached the ray shields and board the cruiser.

“You’re about to face off with the Dark Troopers. You had your hands full with one, let’s see how you do against a platoon.”

This was the precise moment you’d warned Din about. “Bo-Katan,” You call over your shoulder at the Princess, who turns to acknowledge you as she puts her helmet on. Now or never I guess. “Ke'pare olar, cabuor cuun adiik. Par Clan Kryze.”

Before Bo-Katan can ask you what you’re doing, you reach into your tunic and reveal the pendant you’ve worn since long before you met Din. A token from the man who'd taken it upon himself to raise you, you’d been everywhere with the tiny silver owl that almost never left your person.

Her breath catches in her lungs. The last time she saw that pendant...

“Sarad-”

“Din?” You question hesitantly and lowly enough that the others can’t hear, handing him the baby before you reach for your sabers. “Remember when I told you I was going to do something you’ve never seen before?” Din nods and tightens his grip on Grogu as you activate each saber and turn in the direction of the doors.

“Yes.”

The Mandalorian catches your trembling hands wrapped tightly enough around your sabers to turn your knuckles white.

Din swallows the trepidation that lingers in his throat and squares his jaw beneath the helmet, allowing his fear of what may happen to you - despite knowing how well you can take care of yourself - to confine itself to the back of his mind. He can dwell on it later.

You’re making the child’s safety your top priority.

“Don’t let it change anything.”

You cast one last look over your shoulder at the man you love, allowing your gaze to soften as Grogu eyes him, then you, and rests a tiny hand against Din’s. He’s trying to tell you I’ll keep him safe while you’re gone. It’s sweet. Endearing.

“It won’t.” Din replies quietly, to which his voice then whispers I love you across your bond. Your heart nearly explodes with how gentle it is, how he chose now to tell you again after so long of having not heard it. There’s a newfound strength coursing through your body as you turn towards the doors and call to Fennec to open them. “Be safe, Sarad.”

“I will.”

As someone who usually calls on the Light Side of the Force, you’re oddly coaxed to the lingering darkness in the hallways of the Cruiser. You’ve never allowed yourself to fall like the Sith do. You’d had every reason to do so over the years, and yet you never did.

It occurs to you as you make your final stand alone that the only reason you never fell was because you found the baby.

Oh Force...

The metallic footsteps of the dark troopers ring in your ears as you stand vigil before the doors to the room that contains your family. Your aliit.

Forgive me.

“Go on then!” You yell, hoping your voice will carry through the hallways in which they are following to lead themselves to you. “What, are you afraid of a Jedi? I’ve bested the dark, I’ve survived two wars and a mass genocide! Nothing can break me!” You twirl your wrists in the usual jar’kai motions and settle yourself into your favorite defense position. “I’m ready! Are you??”

Outside the main viewport, a lone X-Wing flies within view with the hangar as its destination.

Your head falls to your chest. I’m calling on you... Be with me. The steps grow closer, the anticipation of their lethal capabilities thrumming in your veins. Be with me.

The first dark troopers circle the hall. You peer out of the alcove in which you’re hiding, position yourself in the middle of the platoon, and lift your head towards the ceiling.

Din watches from the surveillance array as the first squad of dark troopers begins trembling. The metal crumbles beneath the weight of your Force grip. “Sarad-” He whispers, fingertips ghosting the screen as he watches the troopers turn in your direction and set their targeting systems on you. “Sarad.”

Be with me.

Unaware of the other Force User who’s just landed in the hangar, your head snaps upward and your instincts kick in as your sabers begin moving of their own accord. You are not the one moving with such grace, such poise, years of training in desert sands with a man who’s constantly dancing with his ghosts.

You are not you. You are simply The Force.

Blue collides with obsidian. Further down the hall, Grogu watches on the surveillance as his buir and the Jedi he’s called upon move to meet each other half way.

Before you reach the newcomer, you’re nearly knocked off your feet by the way his presence radiates in The Force as you clench your hands into a fist and send the last Dark Trooper slamming into the wall.

“No way.” The two of you snap upward to meet each other’s gaze. It’s been years since you’ve seen that familiar face - the same familiar face you’d spent so many nights with training in the forests, the same face that had always softened as the two of you traded stories about your pasts and the Jedi who’d trained you - and it’s a welcome sight that this happens to be the Jedi that your ad’ika had called upon on Tython. “Luke?”

The newcomer throws his hood back to meet your eyes.

“Y/N.”

***

During

Buir. Grogu watches the surveillance screen as you and Luke join one another in the elevator. There’s one small platoon left that’s come from a separate hallway that the two of you can eliminate without barely lifting a finger.

The powerful two Jedi can radiate. It’s cosmic.

It’s alluring. Mesmerizing. A flurry of blue and green weaving between one another as each individual dark trooper is reduced to a pile of smoking metal. Din watches Grogu where he stands, little hand planted on the surveillance screen as the two of you emerge together from the elevator.

“Remarkable.” Din whispers, because it is. The way that the two of you fight is almost like you were born to do it together, to fight with one another and as one another.

The last dark trooper crumbles under Luke’s grasps. When he passes by the camera, Grogu turns to his father and tips his ears back before whining for Din to lift him up.

“Open the doors.”

Din tries not to laugh at the utter indignation on Fennec’s face as he cradles the baby’s neck in his hands, moving around the bounty hunter to stand before the blast doors. He knows they’re safe when you’re standing on the other side of it.

The crowd watches as the newcomer follows on your heels through the smoke left in the wake of your destruction, and the two of you both remove your hoods to acknowledge them.

“Mandalorian.”

“Is he... A Jedi? Like you?”

Luke, ever the civil, folds his hands across his stomach and nods. “Yes.” He says quietly, green eyes softening as the baby peers around the edge of the chair to look at his buir and the man who has answered his call. “Come, little one.”

Grogu looks to Din, and then to you. You can hear his question as clear as day inside your mind.

Are you ready to let me go?

And in that moment, everything comes crashing down in front of you. He’s asking for your permission to go with Luke. He’s asking for the permission of the woman who’d saved him and the man who’d taken it upon himself to keep him safe, to raise him, to let him go with the other Jedi in order to be properly trained. Maker knew you couldn’t do it.

“He doesn’t want to go with you.”

Goodbye, goodbye

Goodbye, my love

“He wants your permission. Both of you.” Luke’s voice breaks through your reverie as you hang your sabers on the belt that’s swung low across your hips. This child has been your livelihood, your reason for breathing, since the year following the genocide of the Jedi. Since you lost your world.

And it seems like you’re about to lose it again.

I can’t hide

I can’t hide what has come

“He is strong in the Force, but talent without training is nothing. I will give my life to protect The Child, but he will not be safe until he masters his abilities.” Unfortunately for you, Luke knows you so well that he can feel the weighed projection of your feelings that emanate from you like a flare within the darkness, which is what prompts you to gently usher you towards Din.

“Hey, go on. This is who you belong with. He-He’s one of your kind.”

I have to go

I have to go... and leave you alone...

“I’ll see you again. I promise.”

Wide, innocent eyes flicker between you and Din before Grogu is reaching up, ever the gentle, to press his hand against his helmet. This would be the first and most likely the only time the baby has ever seen Din’s real face.

You flash a questioning look at the man you love. Then, without question, he wraps his fingers around the bottom of the helmet and slowly lifts it off.

The beskar clang resounds within the bridge.

But always know

Always know... Always know

That I love you so..

Your heart has begun to bleed just by watching this exchange. Din has gone so much of his life without knowing what love was, how gentle people were capable of being. That had all changed when The Child had healed The Mandalorian’s lonely heart. It had never been you. It was him who healed you both.

Din’s lips quiver as Grogu presses his hand to a bare cheek. Your tears are becoming harder to keep at bay, and with the sudden tightness in your chest, you’re suddenly finding it incredibly difficult to breathe. Nevermind the fact that the room has suddenly begun spinning.

‘’Alright, pal. It’s time to go.” Din said quietly. You aren’t entirely sure if he's talking to himself, to you, or to Grogu. “Don’t be afraid.”

Everything around you is muted. Numb. Like your body is trying to fight a shock that you haven’t experienced since Order 66.

Buir. A tiny whisper, echoing in the back of your mind as a gentle hand rests on your shoulder. A flash of a child’s cry echoes in your ears as a blonde woman hands a baby into the arms of Obi-Wan Kenobi, the very man who had taken it upon himself to raise you. Safe. That whisper grows into the voice of your son. Your son is staring at you over Din’s shoulder and desperately trying to call your attention as your world comes crashing at your feet. Buir is safe.

That’s what he means. Since you’re not going to be looking over your shoulder and sleeping with one eye open anymore just because he’s in the same vicinity as you - such a powerful being inside this tiny body - now, you are safe for the first time since The Empire fell.

The fact Grogu puts your safety over his own makes your heart break.

“You’re losing a child.” It’s Bo-Katan’s voice that brings you back to reality. The gentle and foreign tone she’s using is enough to jar you and bring your focus back to the matter at hand: It’s time for Grogu to be with his- your people. “It’s alright to grieve.”

It is, but you can’t. Not right now.

You stumble forward and wipe at your eyes as you press your front to Din’s back. He’s very clearly overwhelmed by the loss of the baby, but that doesn’t stop him from nodding in thanks to Luke.

Goodbye, sunshine

Goodbye for now

Your anguish is replaced by a split second of joy as Grogu looks at you, waddles forward to cradle your leg against himself and say i love you through his Force Bond before he’s turning in the direction of the astromech who’s just rolled into view.

“May The Force Be With You.” But before Luke walks into that elevator, he casts one last look at you. It’s the same look he gave you before you’d left to make a life for yourself. To be your own person outside of the legacy of the Jedi that you’d been brought up in. “I’m offering you the same opportunity I did when you left, Y/N. You can help me in training The Child with the new Jedi Order I intend to build. There are many young Force Sensitives to find.” He holds out his free hand and tries to hide his smile as R2 beeps his approval. “A new world. Would you like to be a part of it?”

Through your Force Bond, you clearly feel Din’s heart drop right into his stomach and his chest tighten as reality hits him: You and the baby may be leaving him together. That would leave him alone for the first time in several years.. and Din doesn’t remember what he was like before he met the two of you, before he loved the two of you.

He doesn’t want to go back to being a ghost.

“I left you for a reason, Luke.” And just like that, the infamous Mandalorian masks his shock as you step backward and right into his hold, maneuvering your arm so as to take his hand within yours. “And I have no intention to leave my aliit. Not this time.”

Luke nods. It’s all he can do. “Very well. As I said, May The Force Be With You.’’

Grogu looks at the two of you as Luke carries him into the elevator.

Goodbye, brown eyes

Take care of yourself

It is so difficult to keep your composure as your son watches the two of you disappear from view. Your knees are already trembling by the time Din pulls you into his arms, and when the elevator doors close, you throw your head back against Din’s chest and let out a wail that shatters the silence following their departure as the two of you sink to the floor.

I have to go.. and leave you alone

But always know that I love you so

Din’s split second decision comes as he buries his face in your hair and whispers as gently as he is able, “Marry me.”

I love you so

Your eyes snap open to meet his own. Tear filled onyx meets your gaze as you cradle his face in your hands and kiss him - once, twice, three times until he’s open and begging and desperate for more of you - before pulling away to envelop him in the tightest embrace possible.

Oh... he’s so wholly and wonderfully yours.

“Yes.”

***

After

Bo-Katan approaches you as you stand in Slave One, knees brought to your chest and chin resting upon them as she kneels in front of you. You and Din haven’t said a word since you boarded the ship, and it’s a needed silence. You must have time to process your losses.

Why did I have to let him go?

“That pendant.” Bo-Katan whispers. “That pendant used to be in my family, Clan Kryze.” The former Princess of Mandalore tilts her head as your gaze remained focused on the cargo hold, eyes vacant as she continues. “It was mine. That pendant was mine and eventually passed to my sister, Satine. You know about Mandalore before the Empire, you know about Kenobi, you know about The Force.”

Your eyes slowly shift to hers.

“And?”

“I don’t think you’re from some backwater planet. I think you were born on Mandalore,” Her eyes soften, the first time you’ve seen her show any kind of humanity in the entire escapade since leaving the Cantina. You didn’t think she was capable of it. “I think Kenobi raised you wherever he ended up, and I think he was your Master. I think you are Mandalorian, little one.” Bo-Katan stands to her feet and hesitates for a brief moment before resting her hand against your head. “But I don’t know. I never will.”

Your entire body sags into her touch.

“Bo-Katan-”

“Be peaceful, little Jedi.” She stops before turning to look at you over her shoulder, flashing the faintest smile - one you swear you’ve seen before - before returning to her spot beside Koska.

Your eyes flutter as you fall asleep.

***

The End

In the quietness of a little room in an inn on Nevarro, he asks you again.

“What is the hardest part about letting go?”

And this time, you have an answer.

“The hardest part about letting go is knowing they’re somewhere out there in the world, away from you, and you still love them. Love them so deeply and so much that it hurts you to be away from them.” You trace the contours of his exhausted aspect, lightly poking the end of his nose just to see the toothy and bashful smile he flashes in response, and prop your head on your hand as you lightly trace his bicep with steady fingers. “You wanna know what the best thing to do is before you inevitably must let them make their own way?” Din hums his acknowledgement and opens his eyes to meet your own. “You love them. You love him..” You exhale slowly on a sigh and lean inward to press your lips to his forehead.

Din sinks into your hold and allows you to cradle his head to your chest. You bury your face in his hair and reach into your shirt to reveal the owl pendant.

“And you hope it’s enough.”

Hm. Maybe one day you’ll have the courage to tell her.

One day.

#Din Djarin x Reader #Din Djarin #The Mandalorian x Reader #The Mandalorian #The Mandalorian x You #The Mandalorian x Y/N #Star Wars imagines #Star Wars oneshots #The Mandalorian fanfiction #The Mandalorian fanfic

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writtenfan · 4 years

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Welcome to the Party! Why Don't We Ditch it and Go to The Underworld!?

DisneyHades x FemReader

Going to the most poppin’ God & Demi-God Party of the month! With your dad the lord of the sea...turns sizzlin’ as your relentlessly chat up by the Lord of the Underworld...Oh, What.. Will... Happen? (~rrrrrowrrr...)

(A/N) “I've been watching so much Hercules the Animated Series and I’m in love with this guy's personality I mean really, James Woods takes the cake. Kinda couldn’t help but write this! I mean Disney Villians are loved too am I right?”

You walk in alongside your father and hear a voice call out through the crowd causing eyes to turn to you both as you walked through the door.

“Arriving, the Lord of The Sea! The go-with-the-flow god, as chill as cool water, as weighty as a wave, Poseidon! Oh? Also his plus one! His beautiful shining sea star, the glistening pearl of the sea (y/n!)”

Your face grows warm at this corny introduction as you enter the beautifully decorated hall, your eyes glance at the golden ribbons wrapping the marble columns and the warm red wool tapestry strung across the walls. Oh, the lighting was perfect!

Three figures briskly walk up to you as your father wraps his arm around yours proudly. “Oh, darling (y/n!)”

“Uncle Zeus, Aunt Hera!” the two beam at you brightly but your eyes catch the face between them. At the man who was godly (ha) ripped! his hair as red as his fathers. “Hello cousin,” he says with a smile opening his arms wide “bring it here!” You laugh and jump into his arms as he held you against his chest and lifted you off the ground moving you around. “Herc that’s too tight!” you choke as you pull back and he releases you gently onto your feet. “Heh sorry (y/n). It's just nice to see you!” “It’s great to see ya too Herc, I've been hearing such great things! It’s been a while.” He rubs the back of his head and smiles “Ah gee (y/n)..”

Zeus laughs and slams his hand on Hercules back which makes his pop forwards and a small wince appeared on his face.

“Aw, I told ya that your favorite cousin would be here didn’t I son?!” Hercules's face grew red and he playfully pushed his father’s arm away “Dad…stop…I- I didn’t say such a thing…” You smirk and pop your fist against his shoulder.

Felt like pure rock.

“Aww shucks ditto Herc.”

Zeus smiled and continued rubbing his sons back. “Its good to see you too brother.” He says placing a hand on his brother's shoulder with a smile.

“Anyways we got to go talk a bit to Demeter about something…I have to ask her about some troublesome things going on with Gaia you know, global warming and all…” Zeus groans.

“See you later (y/n), catch you on the seaside later bro” he laughs as he begins to guide his family away, but Hercules gives you a quick wave before following suit.

Your father smiles at you and releases his hand from your shoulder. “Go on now…I tend to hover a bit much…”

“Go introduce yourself to your Demi-cousins and whatnot…I’m sure they’re around…oh and make sure you give your Aunt Aphrodite a hello, she’s been asking for you way too much. Won’t tell me why.”

...

You smile nervously before making your way into the crowd, smiling, small talking for a while before glancing at a tremendous food display against a wall in the back of the room.

You walk over to the hors d’oeuvres table and get yourself a cup of fruity demi-god alcoholic nectar and you sip it as you look around you God and Demi-god watching in peace....

“So…you got tired of the whole bla-bla-bla thing too huh?”

The voice was so raspy yet smooth and traveled in the air like a weird song. A chill followed by a flash of warmth shivered across your half-mortal body.

You turn to the wall on your left as you down the last of the drink and set the cup on the table. You see the tall blue flamed black-robed, sharp-toothed figure of...Hades the Lord of the Underworld.... “how ya doin’?”, with his arms crossed and a wide smirk plastered on his face. He coughed smoke into his hand and ran that same hand through his flaming blue hair and continued to smile, now with more teeth.

“H-Hades, It’s been a bit...” you stutter.

“Hasn’t it? My little under-the-sea Demi (god)~” Under the sea, he then begins to sing as he dances his finger in the air, finishing the cup he had in his hand and making it poof away in an instant.

“Yes, last time I saw you was briefly at that meeting between you and my father…which ended with you being drenched out of the palace if I remember.”

Hades shrugged and waved his hand in the air, “Yeah yeah...po-po didn’t quite like my porpoise-ition ha-ha...” he chuckles deeply but his laugh had no hint of humor in it.

He moved off the wall levitating over to you, the black smoke at his feet curling up around your legs once he got close enough, tickling your calves. You watched as the smoke began to travel up your legs wrapping up and up like a snake....you shake them and he coughs trying to gain back your attention on him.

“Or the kind remarks I gave you once I caught you peeping at us ever so cutely through the doorway…told me not to even look at you…sheesh talk about protective huh?”

You feel calm despite him placing an arm behind you resting his hand on the table next to you as he smiled.

“Oh? Kind remarks?” you ask giving him a grin

“Give me what you got, I’m curious.”

“Haha! Loving it. Well, I only said the obvious.” he looks you up and down which makes your face warm.

“Which still applies I may add. Absolutely stunning!” He gestures to your face with a wink. “Fiery eyes��luscioussss lips~”

He places his other hand on your shoulder with a toothy grin that made your shiver. You raise your eyebrow and he automatically backs off and glides in front of you his fingers trailing off your arm to your hand holding it up near his face kissing the back of your hand quickly causing a chill to run down it before letting it go.

“…and the. PERSONALITY?! I mean wow, come on!~” he puts his thumbs up and makes a clicking noise while he checks you out some more.

Your cross your arms and laugh, “Psh, Hades you don’t even know me that well.” You fix your (color) dress and give him a smile that faked how weird you felt, from him being so close to you. The weird part was that it wasn’t exactly bad.

“Come on. Babe! We always get together at these parties, don’t we?” he quickly turns his head and covers the side his mouth

“Not in the way I would like”.

You lean back and give him a look as he turns to you with an honest looking grin as if he was an absolute saint and you didn’t hear what he said, but he distracted you by gesturing his hands towards your face in appreciation.

“We gabble. We talk…I try and convince you to come with me to the Underworld for a...” he pinches the air while closing one eye, his flames a flickering blue.

“Quiiiiick little visit…but not too quick heh…”

He pops the collar of his tunic and smirks before sliding to your side closest to the table and picks up some kind of pastry, popping it in his mouth his hand once again wrapping around you while he chewed and made exaggerated noises responding to how good the pastry was.

“I jus-ch wanna hang out (y/n), sweetheart. Lets chat, lets prattle baby! Lets gosssssss-” He gently presses his clawed thumb on the side of your mouth as if wiping away something as he swallowed. He then retracts his hand and cranes your chin up at his face.

“-ssssip babe.” You noticed that his face was now closer to yours than before. His breath was as smoky as a fire with a hint of…mint? and his hair was as bright and warm as a furnace as you watched it rouse up and travel down his shoulders.

“Wow really trying to sell it aren’t we?” you chuckle, amused by his courtship while also slightly disgusted.

These emotions kept bouncing back and forth incomprehensibly.

His eyes widen with a smile and he looks around the room occasionally gesturing to himself and you as he talked,

“If it means me, and if you mean me, trying to sell myself to you… as a potential partnerrr~…” his eyes look mischievously at the ceiling then back to you with an enamored look.

“Then yes baby! Snap a price tag on me, honey, put on a little bow and check me out Duh-ING!~ because I’m yourrrrs!...”

His rr’s rumbling in the back of his throat, his lips moving to your ear.

“You can even get a discount and a lifetime guarantee for this products..” he gestures to himself. “..heheh… functionality.” His face is now in yours, well not literally, the point of his nose is almost against yours as leans closer to your lips still mocking a lusty beasty cat growl.

His arm trying its best to fix you in place to the point where you have to push against his chest to prevent his lips from getting any closer. However, as soon as you placed a hand on his chest and felt the smooth fabric of his black toga your focus shifted to your hand, oh but not just that, woah his chest was quite…firm.

He pulls back and stands at his full height noticing the hesitation in your eyes as he looked down at you staring at his chest. It was just a second too long and his smooth smile turned into a lusty wide-toothed grin and a growling lip bite. His blue flames bursting from the back of his shoulders flickering playfully before lowering.

He snapped his hand to yours pressing against his chest, his strength quite intimidating, the way he rubbed his thumb against the back of your fingers even more so but in a different way. He wiggled his eyebrows as you craned back, and he leaned forward.

“Like the merchandise hmm? Feel free to unwrap babe.”

“Ha-ha-Haaaadesss my man….”

A blue glow whipped around you both like a whirlwind startling him, his hand released and you swiftly stepped back and fixed yourself. Trying to keep your own eyes on where the voice came from...and wouldn’t you know...

“Ah COME ON!!!” his hair flared a bright orange, fists clenching at his side.

He squints his eyes and pinches his fingers together shaking them,

“Can’t you see I’m Bu-uh-say? YOU WINGED WOP!?”

“Ooo creative with the insults ash for brains…” The god hovered between you both clutching his winged golden staff propping his feet up on an invisible surface smiling slyly at Hades.

“Buuuuut I don’t think Po-sei-don will enjoy you-” he swoops behind you and places a hand on your shoulder pointing to Hades who looks at him through heated eyes.

“Being so close and personal with his “pearl of the sea..”” he air-quotes.

“His little sea star!” he pinches your cheek “His widdle baby-” You elbow Hermes in the chest and he jolts back with a pained look holding his hand against it.

“Ha-ha I get it. Sorry love…” he pats your back reassuringly, his blue glow causing you to squint. He glances back at Hades with a smug look.

“Besides I’m sure as heh- well Hades.” He looks towards you with a grin elbowing your side with a laugh as he dives between you and Hades

“-that she sure doesn’t want to be hanging out with you!” He twirls his finger around while pointing to Hades who’s flames were now blazing red from his eyebrows to his shoulders.

“NOw….WAIT a Moment...You LITTle FLUttERY!!-“

“WOAH, WOAH, WOAH, cool it!” You slide ahead of Hermes and hold your hands to both gods with a complexly exhausted look on your face.

“You.”

You point to Hades whose hair automatically flickers off completely before igniting with the regular blue flame on his head.

“Simmer down before you have yourself a fun time getting forcibly escorted out of this “Soiree~” Hades pats down on his shoulder checking for flames with a playful sorry look on his face shooting you two-finger guns. “My bad.” escapes his mouth.

You turn to Hermes with a tired look, “It’s alright Hermes, thanks for the swoop check…but I was just chatting with “uncle” Hades.”

You instantly shiver as you recounted the whole related not genetically thing, and you hear Hades do the same but more verbally.

“Ok. Ok. Just so you know my little Demi-Dame…” Hades moves to your side resting his arm on your shoulder.

“Genetics zip. Not reaaaaly your uncle. That’s a human concept. Gods? Not so much.” Hermes swoops to your other side nodding along in agreement.

“It’s best not to bring that sort of thing up, I mean. Have you heard what Zeus did in his youth?” he starts laughing nervously.

“Talk about Hera’s wrath, I mean I still ponder how they stuck it out-“ Your eyes widen in anticipation. But he just chuckles nervously as Hades tugs at his own collar uncomfortably, yet still fuming.

“ -I mean, don’t tell the big man I brought that up, but even your father had some questionable-”

You hold your hand up, step forward and turn towards them getting away from the Gods who just loved touching you, waaaay too much.

“Ah-ah alright I get it, dropping all that. I don’t feel like exploring that anyway. Gods…” You rub your temple “Being a Demi-god is weird sheesh.”

“Alright good now that’s outta the way…” Hades cuts in pulling you towards his chest, back first, you bump into him.

“Book it wings. Flutter out of this conversation, will you? Like she said. His hands tighten around your shoulder and his thumb caresses the back of your arm out of Hermes sight. He looks down at you with the most fake pure intentioned filled eyes you've seen making you choke back a laugh.

“Were just talkin’ having a lovely chat. She likes my company unlike you uncultured swine, you unkind and uncaring offering gobblers! Isn’t that right babe?”

You open your mouth but are once again cut short by the booming shout of a familiar father figure.

“Ah crap”. The footsteps come closer.

“Po-Po! Gosh, I was just talking with your lovely daughter here…she’s quite swell!” Hades smiles crookedly as he takes his hand from your shoulder and gives your back a few pats.

“Looks just like her mother…uh who was she again?” he laughs passive-aggressively

“None of your business Hades…” The man holds his triton by his side clutching it angrily.

“What have I told you about hanging around my daughter. Especially after I caught you two all buddy buddy near the fountain last festival.

You remember carelessly talking to Hades that one time and laughing at the wildest stories he told along, cringing at his detailed description of decapitation and evisceration at his mercy and intrigued with his absolute ego that shined as he talked about how his own festival would look like, and then your mind remembered once again as he tried to get you down to the Underworld to show you “the many lakes down there, you’ll like that right? I mean the water doesn’t run far from the stream, right? Like father like daughter, aqua-connoisseurs?” you remembered Hades saying.

“Poseidon…my man…she came to me a’ight? You can't stop her from talking to people, she's a grown wo-man!” he dances his shoulder his shoulders eyes wiggle at you and you blush uncontrollably causing you to cover your mouth to prevent a confused smile. He picks up on this and for some reason his sharp-toothed smile quivers and is replaced with a brief dumbfounded and happily astonished look.

Your father looks intently at your face and he growls deeply stepping closer to his brother, moving him away from your side and poking his chest with his finger, his glow increasing in intensity as Hades put his hands up defensively not tearing his eyes from yours.

“I won’t let this happen, despite what Aphrodite just told me! I’ll drown his blossom before it gets a chance to bloom! Your little infatuation with my daughter will end here Hades!”

He looks back at his brother with a pleading face. “In-?” He lowers his hands and places them on his brother's shoulder “In- heh- Infatuation?! Come on ! It’s not like that…” his eyes trail to yours but your father grabs him by the robe with one hand and forces his eyes back to him. You blush again and look in angry confusion at the ground trying to figure out all these torrenting feelings sloshing around inside you.

By this time, practically everyone in the room was staring at this little encounter. You saw Zeus on the other side of the room fuming and heading your way.

“I- heh- I mean bro, that’s absolutely not on the menu, I mean look.” He pats Poseidon’s chest before moving away from his piercing gaze.

“Whatever Aphrodite said, psh. Just because she’s the god of L-oooove” he mocks sticking out his tongue.

“Doesn’t mean she’s some kind of prophet capisce? She senses nothing, the only feelings I have towards your daughter…”

Poseidon’s face grows in a wave of crazed anger.

“Is nothing! I got nothing. See? Just chatting with the gal, I mean, can’t we have a little friendly gab?

Your father lets out a huff, “You know that’s not the case Hades, I-“

“Brothers! What’s going on?!” “You two are ruining the party vibe!” Zeus voice cracks in the air, quite literally...electrifying really, as he stops before you four, head held high with his arms firmly on his waist.

Hades and Poseidon turn towards Zeus, Poseidon still holding tightly onto Hades robes.

You watch Aphrodite and Hera walk up besides Zeus and catch eyes with Aphrodite who gives you a weird smile making you raise an eyebrow.

“You tell Hades to keep away from my daughter Zeus!” he growls looking over to you with a split second of calmness before turning towards Hades and pulling him closer to him.

“Ack- agh, please! I had this robe specially imported from Agrabah!” He takes your father’s hand and picks it up between two fingers forcing it off him then brushing off himself.

“Besides, your just acting irrational a little hot-headed may I say which is surprising because…” he points to his own head. “That’s kinda my schtick get it?” he laughs darkly.

...

Annnnd That’s the exact moment you realize that you had the “hots” for the Lord of the Underworld..

..and as if on cue you lock eyes with Aphrodite and with a calm smile on her face she walks to your side catching the eyes of everyone in the room as she…as you guessed… places a hand on your shoulder… (why does everyone keep doing that?) Snapping her fingers In the air for the attention she already had.

“Now come on boys stop this testosterone-fueled…” she scrunches up her face laying her hands flat down in the air, bringing them down

“hate-fest and just cool it yeah? This is no time for talking through such personal matters out for every god and Demi-god to see isn’t that right Poseidon? Hades?”

Hades scowls at his brothers especially Poseidon which seldomly never happens, usually, Zeus gets all the scowls for himself.

“Yeah yeah, what she said. Let’s talk mano-y mano” Hades gestures to Poseidon and himself. “But, once we do. I also want (y/n) to join in after we make a few things clear! I think her position….” He glances over to you his eyes as dark and soul-stirring as the Underworld.

“Would be a great addition to the decision. Right DEAR?”

“Why I oughta…” you hear your father growl as he raises his fist towards his brother.

Zeus clears his throat and gathers back the attention of Poseidon, but Hades just holds his hand up to his face.

“Ok. You’re not apart of this Zeus-y, alright? This is between me and Po-Po.”

Zeus struts to Hades making him back off unwillingly.

“Like Hades I’m not! I’m the King of the Gods! Any feud between them, I have to be a part of!” he growls walking up to his brothers in this personal little conversation triangle of anger which makes you awkwardly shuffle your feet and refuse to look at anyone in the crowd.

“Now come on…people need to stop using my name like that!”

You hear as your attention is guided away as Aphrodite pats your shoulder and you turn towards her, her smile is easy to follow as she leads you away from the confrontation that was growing between the three brothers.

She leads you into the crowd and past it near the stage and into a door next to it full typical band equipment and costumes. This room was dimly lighted by candles, and a circle of red mini couches faced each other towards the middle. You both locked eyes with the band members as awkwardly held their music silently staring you both before Aphrodite gestured for them to get out which they did quickly.

She walks in as the others walk out and turns towards you gesturing to a chair “Sit honey, we’ve got to talk…” her voice so smooth and alluring you felt like you were in a trance.

You sit down on the chair and play around with your hair, feeling quite intimidated by her looks.

She surprisingly comes and sits on the arm of the chair your sitting on and stops your hand from fidgeting fixing the hair you just messed with.

“…. It seems you’ve got yourself...the most surprising crush in the universe huh?”

#disney villains #disney villan imagine #disney hades #disney hades imagine #disney villan x reader #hades x reader #disney villains imagine #disney villains imagine #disney hades x reader

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imjeralee · 4 years

Text

Wallflower: Chapter 4 - Open Me

Raihan x F!Reader

Disclaimer: Do not own Pokemon

Note: This is my first Pokemon fanfic. I hope you enjoy it :) Originally posted on Archive of Our Own.

Summary: You’re an unassuming Pokemon breeder who works at the nursery in the Wild Area and he’s Raihan, the fearsome gym leader of Hammerlocke who has more than a million followers.

You don’t want anything to do with him but he’s…persistent.

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Warnings: Lemon, smut, violence, language

OPEN ME

...

"Some time ago, this woman did this, uh.... this art performance. It was extreme art, using herself. Basically, she stood with this sign saying that she was letting the public do whatever they wanted to do with her - and she was gonna stand for seven hours and do nothing. She laid out some stuff in front of her - amongst random objects, I think there was a pen, a flower, a gun, a knife...So anyway, she stood and at first, people just stared and watched her. Someone went up to her and gave her a hug. Gave her a handshake. Someone gave her the flower to hold. Someone kissed her on the lips. The public chuckled and laughed, watching this woman stand there like a living dummy. They used the pen and drew on her or something. It began to escalate: someone started taking off her clothes. She stood semi-naked until someone covered her up. Someone slapped her. Someone punched her. I think she started crying but they didn't stop. Someone grabbed the knife and cut the side of her neck. Someone took the gun and put it in her hand, pointed it to her own head. When the time was up and the woman started moving again, the people who hurt her ran away immediately, afraid of the repercussions. When I read that article, I knew: human beings are absolutely disgusting to the core."

She lifts up a knife next. A terrified Deerling trembles in the corner of the room whilst Banette grins.

"That being said, I guess I'm no exception. I'm sorry it had to come to this."

....

Detective Looker is hard at work.

He's got a few things going on - not only has he taken over Raihan's social media account for the time being (it took a lot of persuasion but Raihan finally agreed, vexingly... if he might say so himself) and now he has taken it upon himself to personally investigate the hotel, in particular, room 241. It's Raihan's designated room should he ever visit Circhester, Spikemuth or Wyndon, and Looker's interrogated the majority of staff and checked out all CCTV. No-one reported witnessing any unauthorised persons going in and out of the room and the CCTV does not accurately show the hallway, indicating several blindspots. They also tell him a keycard went missing which was not replaced or brought to management's attention. Looker is not surprised. Of course, there's a hiccup...whilst the hotel staff apologise profusely for their blunders, Looker dismisses them. It sounds like they'll improve their security from now on.

Looker heads to the room, opening the door. Everything is evidence and should be treated with utmost care...he unleashes his Growlithe to sniff out anything. He wouldn't be surprised if Raihan and the girl were snorting up berry dust or anything. Who knows what kids these day were up to...who knows.

Upon checking the room, he stands where the camera in the DVD was facing and finds two light switches in the wall that faces the bed directly. Attempting to remove them, he gets Magnemite to ease it off using it's Magnetic Pull ability and it manages to take the cover off, revealing a square slot where any sort of camera could be placed there, perfect for recording. He takes a few snaps of it using his Rotom phone and inspects the area where the dust doesn't settle. The camera was placed here for some time (a long time, perhaps) but it's long gone now.

Someone had set up a camera way before the one night stand and removed it during the night when both were sleeping. Pretty ballsy, if Looker admits; the perp had gone into the room when Raihan and the girl were in it. But from the testimony, the young couple were drunk as fish so it's not surprising they were out cold for the rest of the night and didn’t notice. The next question is - if no-one saw anyone go in or go out, how did the culprit escape? Looker turns to the window, finds that it's easily opened and proceeds to look outside. Anyone could just use pokemon to fly out here. Also, how did the culprit know where the girl worked to be able to deliver the DVD directly to her workplace?

She probably works for Macro Cosmos. It's the perfect setup - she's Raihan's biggest fan and being an employee of Macro Cosmos, she could have access to what hotel he stays in. Macro Cosmos also has their paws stuck in the Pokemon Nurseries; they pretty much run everything in Galar. They may as well be the government, Looker thinks to himself.

He grabs a pokeball and presses the button. "Go, Dustox." And the large moth pokemon abruptly appears and Looker issues his command: "Dust it."

Dustox flutters around, sprinkling some dust over the window pane where it reveals two handprints.

"Good job, boy." Looker says as Dustox lands atop his head and he pulls out some equipment to take prints. They look small - most likely a female's. Next, Rotom buzzes, indicating a new message. "Talk." Looker mutters, as Rotom flies out.

"Zzrt, I've got the report; I've also got the address of the fan who told Raihan to go to Spikemuth!"

"Thanks, Rotom. This is coming along nicely." He mutters to himself. Grabbing Rotom, he checks the rest of the statistics report; looks like the person has also commented on every single photo and video Raihan has uploaded since...ever. It's simple. Real simple. Just a case of blackmail and obsession after all.

...

Looker arrives in Spikemuth and looks up from his Rotom phone. He's standing in front of an apartment block that looks very rundown. Of course, everything in Spikemuth is grizzled and decrepit, but somehow this sad building really takes the cake. Rotom's provided address mentions the third floor so he quietly makes his way up and stops at the front door. This is it.

Letting go of Rotom, he makes a circle with his finger. "Scan it."

"You got it, champ." Rotom says, before he zooms into the air and a dim blue light glows. "There'zzz only one person inzzide. A man."

"Thanks, I'm going in." Looker knocks on the door and waits.

A few seconds later, the door opens and a middle-aged, bald man in a tracksuit opens it. "Whaddya want?" He slurs, clearly drunk.

Looker holds up his badge. "I'm with the police; I'm looking for - "

He doesn't even get to finish his sentence because the man yells over his shoulder, "What are you in trouble for this time?! Now the po-po's here!"

There is no response.

The man sighs, opens the door and grunts at Looker, "C'mon in."

With an eyebrow raised, Looker steps inside. The flat is in a disgusting state and there's a terrible odor. Feces, perhaps. Looker follows the man down the small hallway of the cramped apartment, stepping over heaps of trash and boxes and upturned furniture on the floor and they stop at a random door. The man proceeds to slam his huge fist over it and it rattles in the doorframe

"Hey, are you in there?!" He yells, before he tries again, but there is still no response.

Looker holds out his arm. "Stand back." With a hefty kick, the door opens violently and swings on the hinges.

Inside, it's a fairly normal room, save for the numerous posters of Raihan pasted to the walls and a bunch of magazines on the floor with Raihan's picture on it, along with the mangled carcass of a dead Deerling. The man gags and runs back towards the direction of the living room whilst Looker steps in.

"Rotom?"

"Yezzzir?"

"Let's get a team here."

"Okay-doo."

...

The Wild Area...

"I've got two wonderful arms, I've got two wonderful lips, I'm over twenty one and I'm free…Oh, I've got a hive full o' honey, for the right kind of honeybee…"

In the Rolling Fields, a young man sits in the middle of a patch of tall grass with a jar of honey in hand and a small plastic knife in his other which he's using to spread over his face.

A group of trainers pass him whilst chatting animatedly and giggling, all female - looks like they're heading to Motostoke - and they stop as soon as they spot him, eyes wide. Realising he's being watched, he grins and waves at them. "Ladies! You wanna see my Lickilicky? He's big and pink - "

"Ewww! Weirdo!" They scream loudly before quickly scampering away.

He looks upset. "What's wrong with Lickilicky?" Rummaging a hand through his pockets, he takes out a pokeball and presses the button, releasing a large pink pokemon and he continues spreading honey over his chin. "Wait," He pauses abruptly, frowning. "How does this work again? Was I meant to put honey on myself, or on a pokemon? What do you think, Licky?"

His pokemon turns to him and sticks it's massive pink tongue out in response.

"Eh, fair enough. Okay, here goes nothing. Let's give it a shot." Once he's finished giving himself a honey moustache, he moves to stand up and holds his arms out, dropping the knife to the ground - but then his phone rings and he fishes Rotom out from his pocket. "Yello."

"Um, it's me."

"What's up?"

“I...I think I have a date. Can you help me?”

“Hell yeah, I will!” He shouts down the phone before he hangs up, then - "Frick, why'd I do that? Damn, where we gonna meet?"

He immediately calls her back.

"Yeah?" She sounds exhausted.

"Where we gonna meet and when?"

"Can we meet right now? The date is tomorrow. Are you in Galar? Sorry for the short notice..."

"Nah, s'alright, I wasn't doing anything important anyway," He replies, "And yeah, I'm in the Wild Area. Meet you outside your workplace?"

"Sure."

After he hangs up a second time, there is a loud rustling noise emitting from the right. He gasps and whips his glance over over. "What was that?"

There's another loud rustle to the left which makes him leap frantically in the air.

"Huh? What? Who?"

Another rustle.

"Who goes there?"

Glancing left and right, he can't tell where the noise is coming from but then the grass parts and a dark shadow leaps out. His eyes widen.

…..

You're waiting outside the nursery as agreed, checking your phone for any messages when you see a figure sprinting towards you from the horizon. It's some dude dressed up as a Galarian Ponyta. Oh, wait. You know this dude.

"Help! Help me! Demon cat! Demon cats are chasing me!!" He yells, waving his arms around.

It's Glenn. Finally, he's here. Took him long enough. He's rushing towards the nursery with his Lickilicky waddling after him and there's something chasing him; you notice it's a couple of Purrloin that have all set their eyes on him.

Throwing a glance over his shoulder, he hisses, "Back, I say! All of you, stay back! Oh? You want a battle, do you? Fine!!" He grabs a pokeball from his belt and tosses it without looking and throws his arms in the air, "Go Kricketune! Delelele whooooop!"

You continue to watch as a large, reddish insect pokemon appears in a burst out of light and it stands its ground in front of the rampaging Purrloin - however, it's quickly pushed to the ground and trampled over.

"No!" Glenn yelps, before he spies you and proceeds to hurriedly make his way towards you, hiding behind your back, "Oh good, you're here. Do something!"

"Okay, I got this." You mutter; the Purrloin stop before you, peering up at you inquisitively whilst Glenn quivers in fear. You quickly fish out some spare berries from your bag which you keep handy for these sorts of situations and squat down to hand the fruit to them. They surround you at once and you distribute the food in an orderly fashion. "One for you...one for you.... aaaaaaaand...one for you." You mutter as they line up, single file. Once each pokemon has a berry, they purr and meow appreciatively at you before turning to leave quietly.

From behind your shoulder, you hear: "Are they gone? Are the demon cats gone?"

"Yeah."

"Phew!" Glenn pokes his head out and sighs. "Thanks for taking care of that, sis. These Purrloin walk on their hind legs! That's not normal!" He exclaims as he returns his Kricketune and Lickilicky into their pokeballs.

"It's a Galar thing." You reply, before you squint your eyes at him, "Are you high?"

"Me? High? No, of course not. I've been clean for years, sis. Years."

"Right, okay. Come on then, let's go. It's getting late."

"Sure, sure. I'm so happy you called me." He gushes, as you both begin your trek down the beaten path of the Wild Area that will lead you to Hammerlocke where you will get the train; Glenn quickly falls into the same pace as you, folding his arms behind his head - which he does all the time but suddenly it reminds you of Raihan.

Glenn is your foster brother and a self-proclaimed Pokemaniac, choosing to dress up as random pokemon depending on his mood. A week ago he was a Bidoof, a few days ago he was a Weedle. Today, he is a Galarian Ponyta, a pokemon he's been on the lookout for a long time since he read about them. He still stays in Johto somewhere in Mahogany Town, but he likes to visit you a lot on sporadic occasions and luckily for you when you called him - he was in the Wild Area. You've asked Glenn to help you choose an outfit for your date. He was responsible for picking out the black dress from Goldenrod department store - the one you wore to the club - so overall, he's good with fashion and naturally you called him first because you trust his opinions.

He was also a berry addict. Specifically, the lum. Yes, that one. Out of all the berries he could get addicted to, it had to be that one. He got addicted to lum berries at a young age and spent much of his youth going to shady places, throwing most of his cash to dealers just to snort some lum dust. He’s been clean for years, or he says, but sometimes you’re not sure. There's no telltale sign right now - no red, watery eyes and there's no distinct smell of the lum either. You guess you have to take his word for it.

"Wait, before I forget - " Glenn removes his Ponyta hood, leaving himself in his white sweater and slacks with the pink-blue edges, and he proceeds to take out two pokeballs, handing them to you, "I brought your pokemon."

You grin widely as you take the pokeballs off him. "Thanks!!" You'll let your pokemon out later, and stuff their capsules into the pocket of your bag.

"I guess the only pokemon you're missing from your team would be a Goodra, Dragonite, Kommo-o and a Hydreigon, right?"

"And a Dragapult." You remind him.

"Why do you want one so badly? Is it because they look like they're so done with life and shit?"

"Uh, no, but - hey, what happened to that Dreepy trader?"

"He said he wanted your Metagross in exchange."

You make a face. "NO."

And he snickers, crosses his arms over his chest. "Yep, I called the trade off.”

"Thanks. So, what pokemon were you looking for this time?"

"A Vespiqueen, but no luck." He says with a sigh.

"You should've dressed up as a Combee."

"I wanted to but I couldn't make the costume in time." He sighs again, "Anyway, this isn't about me. This is about you. How's it goin'? How's Galar? You got a date, right?"

You immediately throw your glance to the ground and kick a stone away from your path, cheeks going pink. "...Yeah."

"Who's the lucky dude?"

"Um...it's Raihan."

Glenn's eyes bulges for a split second but then his expression returns to normal. "Oh. Figures. He loves dragon Pokemon and you use some dragon pokemon, so you got something in common." He scratches his chin next, "Raihan, huh. He's a bit of a celebrity around here; didn't know you would like his type."

You blush furiously in response. "I don't know if I should go."

"Huh? But you called me for help, didn't you?"

"Well, yeah."

"Then you should go. Give it a shot. Ahhh, my little sis is going on a date with the hot-blooded dragon tamer. That's adorable." Glenn reaches over and pulls at your cheek affectionately.

You smile awkwardly in response. There's more to it, of course, but you're reluctant to tell Glenn the entire truth. Once you're at Hammerlocke, you take the train to Wyndon - even though you're heading there tomorrow - and upon arrival, you and Glenn head to the boutique. Raihan's asked you out on short notice and you're sure there's nothing in your current wardrobe, so the Wyndon boutique will have to do. Compared to the boutiques in the region, the Wyndon store offers some of the best selection of clothing. Stepping inside, you're greeted with hundreds of clothing racks and your eyes are assaulted with dozens of colourful garb, shoes and handbags.

As you grimace under your breath, Glenn rolls his sleeves up and grins widely. "Right, let's get you sorted!"

...

Wyndon, next day.

Needless to say, you didn't get a very good night's sleep and when you had heard a Corviknight crowing, indicating it was morning, you groaned and sat up in bed, glancing over to the folded clothes on the stool which you had bought yesterday with Glenn's help. It was rather exciting at first and shopping with Glenn is very much fun and games, but now...not so much. The initial excitement is gone now, replaced with an underlying sense of dread. You're afraid. Why are you doing this? What will you say to Raihan when you see him? What will you talk about during your time together? What if it gets awkward? What if he thinks you're boring as hell and that you have nothing in common? You smacked a hand to your forehead as you slipped out of bed, full of regret and feeling sick to the stomach; it's not like you agreed to go on the date either but he's expecting you to turn up now and you're too afraid to message him saying you don't want to go anymore.

Glenn said he could wait with you at the Wyndon pokemon centre for moral support which you didn't think was necessary; it doesn't make you feel any better.

Yet, you're waiting in the Pokemon Centre; Glenn stands at the rounded table, going through photos on his phone whilst you peep outside the double glazed window. Here you are, dressed and dolled up. It took you almost three hours to get ready. You look the same as you did at the nightclub but the makeup's a bit toned down, especially with your eyeliner. There's still ten minutes to go until the date officially starts but your indication of Raihan's arrival is a cacophony of manic female screaming and cheering. People are pointing to a specific direction so you follow where their fingers are pointing to and you see that Raihan has appeared, having just arrived at the large fountain in the town square; he smiles and waves at a few shrieking fans - he's donned in a casual black t-shirt and denims (and looking very much like the way he did at that talkshow) - before he abruptly steps towards the fountain and plops himself down on an empty, dry space, bringing out his Rotom phone. High above and the sky is turning grey, indicating that it will be raining soon.

Your eyes grow wide as your Rotom phone buzzes and he flies out; you have received a photo from Raihan - he just snapped a photo of himself at the fountain and has sent it to you. The caption below says:

Doofus: I'm here :)

You don't know how to reply, your feet suddenly anchored to the spot. "...He's actually here." You croak out. "He's here, Glenn."

Glenn doesn't look up from his phone. “You thought he wasn't serious? That he was playing a cruel joke on you? This isn't prom night or high school or whatever.”

“Y-yeah...”

"Well, now that he’s here and obviously very serious, what are you waiting for? Go to him."

You shake your head furiously, taking a few steps back from the window. "Um...not yet."

"Huh?" He looks up, confused. "You're gonna make him wait?"

"...It's not that. I...I don't think I can do this."

"What do you mean?"

"This is a bad idea."

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is."

"You can't keep letting whatever you're scared of stop you from doing things, sis." Glenn says, but you don't leave the safety of the pokemon centre.

As the minutes tick by, you see Raihan occasionally checking his phone, talking to some fans who would go up to him for selfies and autographs. Once that's done, he would look up and around and check his phone again for updates from your end (but obviously there's none because you didn't reply to his message). You hear a loud booming clap of thunder overhead and it occurs to you that the weather's getting worse and soon, the window becomes streaked with droplets.

"Look, it’s raining now." Glenn adds, "And it's pretty bad. Go and get him. Go get your man."

You stare at Raihan, who is still rooted in his seat on the fountain. He hasn't moved at all. Glancing at your phone, you realise you've left Raihan waiting for almost ten minutes. And as Glenn pointed out, it's beginning to rain heavily.

"Shit. You're right. Goddamnit, he's gonna get sick." You utter under your breath, "Glenn, I'm going."

"Whoohoo! Good luck! And most importantly, have fun!”

You pull your umbrella from your bag and open it as you rush out of the pokemon centre, running over to the fountain. Raihan doesn't notice you coming and since he hasn't moved from his spot at all, he's very drenched; once you arrive, you hold the umbrella over his head and he promptly looks up.

"Sorry, I'm late!" You exclaim, "Well, no, I wasn't late, I was - uh, never mind, I-I have kept you waiting and for that I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

He stares at you from head to toe; you're wearing a long-sleeved shirt dress with a belt and black shorts underneath, along with matching black chelsea boots. After he's had a good look at you, he immediately stands up and envelopes you into a tight hug. The umbrella jiggles in your hand and almost threatens to fall but you manage to hold onto it. Despite being completely wet, his body is warm.

"It's okay, I didn't wait for long." He says, as he nuzzles you affectionately. He sounds happy.

What a doofus, he clearly did wait for a long time.

"You came." He adds.

"O-of course I'd come." You utter, and you exhale quietly under your breath as he bundles you up in his arms and gives you a tight squeeze. "...Sorry." You mumble again, throwing your gaze to the side as your chin rests on his broad shoulder. You can't help but apologise again and again.

His arms lower from your waist, large hands resting on the sides of your legs and the contact makes you blush heavily, your fingers clinching the damp fabric of his t-shirt. “Your outfit is too short.” He murmurs as he strokes the sides of your bare thighs before he slips his fingers underneath the material of your shorts - he’s almost at your ass - and he succeeds in sending a few shivers down your spine.

”You don’t like it?”

“No,” He mutters, “But it’s dangerous to wear something like that in front of me.”

Honestly, it’s quite a tacky thing to say but somehow he can get away with it because your face ends up a thousand shades of red before you defiantly turn your head to the side. “S-shut up.” You mumble as he leans over to press his lips over your cheek and you close your eye as he begins to trail little kisses over the side of your face. What were you expecting? Heck, you are deliberately wearing a sexy outfit for this date.

He moves towards your mouth and presses a deep kiss on your lips which kind of takes you off guard but before you can react, he pulls away and says, "What do you want to do first?"

"You're soaked." You squeak out, "I'm sorry."

He plants his hand atop your head, ruffling your head as he grins at you in response.

"Okay, I'm here and you're here. Your obsessed fan could also be here and watching us this very moment. What the hell are we doing, being in the wide open like this? This is bad. We should not be doing this." Glancing around, you see some of the Wyndon locals running for shelter from the rain, disappearing into their homes or nearby restaurants which now look pretty full. You're not too sure if it's a good idea if you should go with Raihan to such a busy place. You ponder to yourself briefly and it hits you. "Never mind; I have an idea."

....

Glimwood Tangle.

"Ahhhh. This is so much better." You sigh, wiping your brow with relief, "It's nice, dark and quiet here. No-one will see us."

The Glimwood Tangle is the perfect place - maybe not so much for a date, but if Raihan insists in spending some time with you, this is a good option. It's not raining here either, thank goodness. Of course, you're just a few paths away from Ballonlea as well, so you guess you could invite Raihan for tea or something nearer the end (and not for sex, nooo... and you hope he would respect that too). You took the Corviknight taxi - which was a bad idea because it was really cramped inside and you were both basically rubbing shoulders - which he didn't object to or anything, in fact he pretty much wanted you to sit in his lap but luckily for you and unlucky for him, there was just enough space.

You found the entire taxi ride darn near claustrophobic and he had his hand planted over your bare leg the entire time so you're relieved to have finally arrived at the woods - even when you exited the taxi, he let you go out first and the damn cramped cubicle meant when you both stood up and turned, your ass basically grinded invitingly against his hips. If it couldn't have been anymore damn obvious, there's tension between you and Raihan and you're not sure what will emerge from this.

In the woods, you look around whilst Raihan tries to get a signal on his phone. There's not many people around at all and as you mentioned, it's dark and quiet. You prefer this more than any other town or city. You take one step forwards and -

SQUELCH.

Throwing your glance down, you see your foot is stuck in thick mud, fast. "Motherfu - “

Raihan’s watching you.

”-Fuh...Furret. These are brand new."

He chuckles as you try to pull and tug your leg free but to no avail. Raihan steps over, invulnerable to the mud (but of course he is) and reaches for you, scooping you up with one hand under the back of your knees and the other around your shoulder and with unimaginable strength, he hoists you out - but now you're stuck in his hold, being carried bridal style which embarrasses you greatly.

"What are you doing?"

"Saving my princess." He replies cheerfully as he carries you through the woods. You blush the entire way; when you're away from the muddy terrain and back onto the path, you both find a large glowing mushroom and decide to sit down and Raihan looks around inquisitively. You get the feeling that he doesn't come here often, and you wonder if he has even come here before at all. He doesn't look used to his surroundings.

"Are you okay?" You ask, as Raihan looks up at the non-existent sky. "Is it too quiet here? Too dark? Some people find the Glimwood Tangle unnerving."

"It’s not so bad here.”

"Yeah, but people are rumoured to disappear or get lost for days. Weeks, even. So, not many people like passing here and as you can see, it's really dark. Like it's almost noon but it looks like it's night-time right now. It can really mess with your biological clock," You muse out loud, "N-not that I chose to stay near here because of those reasons, of course. “

You go silent; it occurs to you that he was observing you as you babbled and now you’re scared to death that you’d put him off with your ramblings. Did it make any sense? Or was it all garbage? Why did you say those things in the first place anyway? You couldn’t help it - it was like verbal diarrhoea. Have you made things awkward now?

As you worry, he asks, “Do you live in Ballonlea or Stow-on-Side?"

"Ballonlea. You can see my cottage over there." You point to the left where between some giant, neon mushrooms, you can see the roof of your cottage in-between the stems.

"Nice." He comments with a grin, before he takes off his orange sweatband which is damp with rain and as he wrings it dry, you get a rare view of Raihan without his headband, revealing the sides of his shaved head and his dreadlocks. You can feel your cheeks heating up as you look at his rugged side profile and angled jaw, the amount of manly appeal he oozes is enough to reduce you to a blushing mess. He's still fairly damp, his black t-shirt clinging to his muscles and you can see the lean outline of his biceps. Looks like he works out a lot...hot damn, you should've paid more attention to the training videos he posts up online. There's a reason they're insanely popular with fans.

You try to focus on the topic at hand here, clearing your throat, "My pokemon like it a lot here, except Espie. She prefers Johto."

"What other pokemon do you have?"

"I have a Drifloon; he's been with me for a long time. And I have a Poliwag. He refuses to evolve though, so we tied an Everstone around his tail. He lives in my bathroom."

Raihan chuckles again. Surprisingly....the conversation's been pretty fluid and he's extremely easy-going. “I got something for you.”

”Huh?”

Delving into his pocket, he takes out a pokeball with a ribbon tied neatly around the middle. Fancy. “This is for you.”

You don’t move. Your gut feels like it’s twisted into a tight knot.

”Go on, it’s yours.”

You nervously accept the pokeball from him and he gestures for you to open it, releasing whatever is inside. You press the button and a red light flashes briefly before the Pokemon appears. Your eyes widen at once. It’s a round purplish-pink blob that blinks it’s little eyes at you before opening its mouth wide. It makes a gurgling noise and your jaw drops.

”A Goomy!!?!” You exclaim, and you can’t help the smile that blossoms on your face; Raihan watches, grinning at your reaction. “But...why? You didn’t have to.”

“He needs a home and I know you’ll take good care of him.”

As the Goomy looks between you and Raihan, you hold your arms out. It slowly slithers over to you and you lift it up and into your arms. Uh, okay.... now your clothes are feeling a little damp. There’s a slime trail over your front and as Goomy gurgles happily, you smile cheerfully at it and rub at one of it’s little horns.

”Oh, so cute...” You can’t wait to raise him into a Goodra that will destroy anything and everything. Oh yeah. Turning to Raihan, you grin, “Thanks. I’ll look after him.”

He grins at you in response as you return your new Goomy into the pokeball. Shit, you didn’t get anything for Raihan. But his gift was totally unexpected! You weren’t expecting any presents!!! What are you going to do?

“What's it like being a Pokemon Breeder?" He asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.

"O-oh, well, I like it very much, I get to see lots of pokemon everyday. I look after a lot of pokemon everyday." You babble again, "I look after the babies, I look after the eggs, and I deliver eggs. For EV training, I only accept up to five pokemon; I take them to places with specific pokemon to battle for stat gain."

He rubs his chin in thought, "Where did you learn how to EV train?"

It's then you throw your glance to the ground and bring your knees to your chest. "....When I was a kid, I brought Beldum to Show and Tell. My classmates laughed at him and said mean things so I wanted to train him up to become stronger. I took him to the mountains and we battled a lot of Trapinch. Along the way, I noticed his attack stats kept increasing as I levelled him up." You mumble, "I never forgot that moment, not once."

"I know." He says nonchalantly, "You told me."

You whip your head to him in confusion as he smiles coolly at you. "When did I ever tell you that?"

"Didn't you watch the rest of the video?"

Your cheeks go red. "Uh........No." You utter, after a pregnant pause, "...No, I...I didn’t."

His expression gradually dissolves into one of disappointment and his face crumbles slightly. Oh shit, now that you think about it... you didn't finish watching it. You scratch your elbow, pondering.

"What's it like being a gym leader?" You ask timidly, and also wanting to change the subject, "And why did you decide to become one?"

"Hah, good question." He replies, "I like battling and training pokemon. Being a gym leader means I constantly get challenged by people from all across the region; there's always something new to look forward to everyday and my pokemon can get stronger. One day, when we're strong enough, we'll beat Leon."

You admire his positivity, you really do. And his energy. You give him a small smile as he grins at you again and a comfortable silence settles between the two of you; inwardly, you’re quite happy that the date seems to be going in a good direction. You muse silently whilst Raihan takes out his phone and attempts to take a selfie of himself with a green mushroom behind him. It's too dark for him to show up properly, however. You're about to say something when you hear a rustle in the grass below you and you turn your head to the source of the noise.

“Did you hear that??" You whisper, leaning over to see who or what is making the ruckus; when a pokemon emerges, your eyes widen and you unconsciously grab his arm. "Raihan, look, it's a Ponyta!"

"Hm?" He peers over the edge of the mushroom beside you.

As you point excitedly to the grass below, the small horse pokemon trots out from the undergrowth and glances around cautiously before it begins to feast on the grass. "Damn, all my pokemon are too strong. They'll just kill it - I mean, make it, er, faint - in one move."

"I'll catch it for you." Raihan says; he stuffs his headband into his pocket, hops off his seat and drops to the ground carefully and quietly before reaching for you with arms outstretched.

You swallow down slightly and gingerly slide off the mushroom, holding onto his shoulders for support; he slips his arms around your waist securely and effortlessly hoists you down and when your feet touch the ground, he's still holding you tightly and your noses are almost touching. You mutter your thanks as he lets go of you slowly before reaching for an ultra ball that's nestled behind his back. Approaching the Ponyta, he tosses the ultra ball and a large pokemon emerges - it's his Sandaconda. The Ponyta, startled, decides to face it head on. You look at it's multicoloured mane that is a beautiful shade of mixed pastel blue and pink. So adorable!!!

"Go, Sandaconda! Use headbutt!" He instructs, and the sand snake pokemon proceeds to ram itself at the pokemon. It didn't get a chance to retaliate at all! The Ponyta drops to the ground, not exactly knocked out but reeling from the impact. Weakened, Raihan grins and then grabs a spare pokeball from his pocket and throws it at the downed pokemon. You're surprised he's helping you catch it, and when the ball clicks shut successfully after wiggling around for three times, you watch numbly as Raihan collects it, returning his pokemon at the same time. With the pokeball in hands, he heads back to your direction and hands you the capsule. "There you go. She's all yours."

He’s surprising you a lot today. And he’s gotten you another Pokemon.

"Thanks, Raihan."

“Whatever Pokemon you want, I’ll get it for you.”

”You don’t have to.”

”I want to.”

Your cheeks flame up immediately.

”What’s next on your list?”

You think about Dragapult and an image of the ghost slash dragon type appears in your mind. Oh, Glenn is right. Dragapult really does look like he is done with life and shit. Now you really want one. “Dreepy....” You mutter, in a slight zombie trance.

”Okay, I’ll get you one.”

”Wha - ?! Raihan, I didn’t mean it, I was just - seriously, don’t. It’s okay.”

As you splutter, clearly flustered by his generosity, he chuckles. You give him a timid smile, throwing your glance to the pokeball in your hands, then back up at him. He hasn't looked away from you at all. It grows silent for a while between the two of you where you're both staring at each other - to your surprise, you’re able to maintain the eye contact without wanting to look or turn away.

Maybe it’s because you’re anticipating him to kiss you and as predicted, Raihan slowly begins to lean in. You freeze on the spot then, watching as his face comes closer and closer and your heart beats harder. It’s that giddy Butterfrees-in-the-stomach feeling again but this time, it’s strangely pleasant. His gaze lands on your lips and when he finally nears you; he pauses and flicks his glance up at you as though he’s waiting for something. Your permission, perhaps? When you don’t move, he closes the gap and gently pecks you on the lips, reaching for your hand and squeezing it. You force yourself not to move and discover you’re able to stand still. The corner of your lip tugs upwards against his mouth which causes him to grin in response as he smooches you again quickly.

When you both pull away, you mutter, "...Shall we head to Ballonlea?"

"Sure."

You place the pokeball with the newly captured Ponyta into your bag beside Goomy’s and once that's done, Raihan begins to guide you out of the woods. Hand in hand, you both walk towards the direction of Ballonlea where he would occasionally nudge you playfully using his shoulder and you would nudge him back. The only source of light comes from the glowing mushrooms but it's really relaxing to be here. You see some other pokemon in your path, including some Shiinotic and Morelull who all hide away from you, disappearing into the darkness. Up ahead and you see some gym challenger being pranked on by Impidimps. Soon, the town comes into view and you lead the way to your house where you see a cardboard box on your doorstep.

Huh, that wasn't there before...and it couldn't be mail, either.

Stopping directly in front of it, you and Raihan stare at the box and then look at each other. It says 'Open Me' and there's an awful stench emitting from inside. That wipes the smile clean off your face; Raihan steers you behind him and you quickly grab his arm. "Wait! No, don't open it. Call Looker."

He eyes the box cautiously, "...Yeah. You're right." Just as Raihan pulls out his phone, his screen flashes, indicating a call from the detective you had just mentioned. "You called at a great time."

"What happened?" You can hear Looker's gravelly voice from the receiver.

"I'm with her. There's a weird box outside her doorstep."

"Okay, I'm heading over. Don't open it."

"What do you think is inside?"

"...A dead pokemon, or parts of one, probably."

There's a brief silence before Raihan hangs up.

"A dead pokemon?!" You exclaim in shock; Raihan returns his phone and turns to you, then encircles his arms around your waist wordlessly and holds you tight against him; he's strong, you can't wriggle free from his embrace. "Raihan, we shouldn't have - this person knows where I live! And now this... this is awful!”

Raihan doesn't say anything except press his lips against your forehead in an effort to calm you down whilst rubbing your arm soothingly.

The wait for Looker is excruciatingly long.

#raihan x reader #Raihan x you #raihan #pokemon #pokemonshield #pokemonsword #pokemonswordandshield #jeralee #fanfic #fic #archiveofmyown #wallflower #kibana

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translations-by-aiimee · 3 years

Text

Sea of Clouds Prison Heart - Prologue

Original Title: 云海囚心

Genres: Romance, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Synopsis (taken from NovelUpdates):

The older young master of one of the wealthiest family, Fang Xiao Zai, fell into the water when their merchant ship was robbed. However, when he woke up, he had lost his memories and became an infamous pirate of the Liang Huai.

A blank past and losing his sight affected him mentally and physically but the arrogant and untamed man was always there by his side, warm and gentle.

The vague and ambiguous feelings made Fang Xiao Zai slowly drown in the gentle care Ye Qingyun gave. Yet, the memories belonging to another person made him suspect his own identity as well as that person’s intentions.

Just what sort of huge lies are hiding behind those touching promises?

Prologue

The red lanterns and the red curtains added festive colours to the residence.

The sound of firecrackers, the sound of suonas and drums, as well as the excitement and congratulations of the guests, filled the lively air and echoed across the sky.

"The bride has arrived!"

With a shout from outside, everyone in the lobby fell silent and looked back at the door.

A handsome and gentle-looking bridegroom was surrounded by people to greet the bride. The bridegroom's younger brother held a red lacquer plate with two big blood oranges in his hand and presented it to the bride, asking the bride to get off the sedan chair.

"Bridegroom, please kick the sedan!"

Three kicks at the sedan door, the bridegroom carried the bride into the hall, covered by a rice sieve, and stepped on porcelain tiles to ward off evil spirits; crossing the charcoal fire symbolized the prosperity of their descendants; crossing the horse saddle representing prosperity. Then followed the three prayers.

"First bow to the heaven and the earth!"

The groom took the bride's hand and turned to face the outside of the hall, about to bow. . .

Boom!

The door was kicked open, and a group of sturdy men rushed in with sharp blades in their hands. The man leading the pack had sharp eyebrows and bright eyes, a handsome appearance, an air of arrogance and ignorance, almost a bit rebellious.

The bride was shocked by the movement, and the veil slipped off her head. She had a graceful face, not as beautiful as some exquisite beauties, but the tranquillity revealed in her facial features made the woman appear as clear and beautiful as the green water of a lotus pond.

The visitor's gaze fell straight on the bride, then looked back at the groom.

"I told you that I can give you anything you wanted, all the rare treasures in the world, any beauty you please, as long as you want, I can give you everything!"

The groom's expression was calm, and he faced his fierce gaze.

"And I told you that in this world, there is only one thing that I want. You could never find it, and you could never give it!"

The bride tugged at the groom's sleeves, and her eyes that could speak looked at the man who was about to become her husband. She did not speak but gestured and asked him, what happened?

When the visitor saw this scene, he seemed to be taken aback, and then smiled coldly, "You didn't want any of the world's beauties, but you want to marry this ugly and mute woman."

The groom glared at him, but he held onto the bride's hand, "She is my wife. She is the one with who I will grow old with. We will have plenty of children and grandchildren. In my eyes, there is no woman in this world more beautiful than her. No one can understand my thoughts better than her." He said, covering her head again with the veil, "Xiu Rong, are you willing to marry me?"

The woman nodded and obediently let him turn her around.

Hearing this, the visitor raised an angry eyebrow. He grabbed a knife from the person beside him and threw it.

In an instant, the blade turned into a flash of white light and flew towards the bride and groom with a sharp murderous intent. . .

Hearing a "clank" sound, the knife flew past the bridegroom's cheek and plunged directly into the red character hung on the wall. There was an uproar in the hall, but the groom remained calm and composed.

The visitor erupted, "Fang Xiaozai! If you dare to marry her today, believe it or not, I will slaughter the entire Fang family!"

Among the people sitting in the hall, one shot up and slammed his hand down on the table.

"Ye Qingyun! Who do you think you are? You dare to threaten our Fang family like this? You have some nerve. . . some nerve. . ."

Seeing him clenching his fist to run forward, someone on the sidelines hurriedly pulled him away. It was a more gentle-looking young master than the bridegroom. The man just had to look at him and he immediately calmed down the violent party. The man sat back in his chair obediently.

It was clear that he was still deeply unsatisfied, but it looked like he wouldn't act on it anymore. Instead, he slapped the teacup on the coffee table with his palm and turned away.

The bridegroom tilted his head slightly, and the corner of his mouth faintly curved upwards. "I believe you, but even so, I still want to marry her, and I will never be afraid of loneliness again on the road to the afterlife." He turned back to the Xi Po. "Please continue."

The Xi Po was already trembling with fright and couldn't even make a sound.

Upon seeing this, the gentle young master jumped in. "Please continue. With this thing here, they dare not do anything." As he said, he raised an inconspicuous wooden sign in his hand.

The unwelcome visitor whole arms were shaking as if he was trying to restrain the endless anger in his heart.

"The second bow to the parents--!" The Xi Po shouted.

The couple bowed to their parents sitting in the hall.

"The third bow to each other--!"

A pair of glaring eyes were locked on the bridegroom's body, and he watched him finish the three great bows, and brought his wife to his parents to offer tea. . .

He clenched his hands into fists and pinched his nails into his palms, but he didn't seem to feel the pain anymore.

The trail of blood snaking down his arm like a red thread wrapped around his finger, but the person who was supposed to be on the other end of the red thread was. . .

#sea of clouds prison hearts #sea of clouds prison hearts translation #sea of clouds #chinese novel #chinese bl #english translation #yaoi novel

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babbushka · 4 years

Text

Each Eye (Chapter 8 Sneak Peek)

Mob Boss!Kylo Ren x Reader

3.3k, Very NSFW; full chapter coming soon

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. . .

He could come from just that, you both know. He could stand right there and come all over himself like some messy slut just from your sweet words, your words of encouragement and permission. But his eyes are zeroed in on your pussy, and he practically tripped over himself to rip his suit away from his overheated skin, so anxious to fuck you that it almost makes him sick.

He knows you need to be taken care of, need to be prepared. His cock is big, he’s proud of it, he’s proud of the way it made you feel. But only when you’ve been stretched for him, only when you’re ready for him. So he climbs naked onto the bed, rolls you over onto your hands and knees so your back is arched and your ass is presented to him.

His chest burned burned burned with lust, and he had to grip the base of his cock because you haven’t said he can fuck you yet, haven’t given him permission for that. He reached around you to stick a couple fingers in your mouth, and you, the perfect fucking angel you were, sucked them in between your teeth. You drooled all over them, so much so that when he pulled away, spit hung in little strands in a spiders web of lube on his hand.

“Touch me Kylo.” You told him, and he had to shut his eyes so he wouldn’t completely lose himself right then and there.

He slid his coated fingers into your pussy and shuddered at the way you moan. He knew he should go slowly, knew he should take his time, but there’s not much time to be had, not much time to be savored in the way he wanted. So he pushed three fingers into you right up to the hilt, shuffled behind you so so so close, draped his stomach all across your back so he could feel the shocks of pleasure through your body.

He head rests on your shoulder, as your body quivered for him.

“Oh, fuck that’s good.” You sighs and gasps and pants and moans are delicious as he curls the three fingers inside you.

He wondered if he could, if you’d let him, put in a fourth. His hands were so fucking big, you always liked to compliment him on it, always liked to say so. You always told him how big his hands were, maybe you’d like to get fully fucked with them.

“Ah! Kylo, honey, more, harder.” You ordered, and he was so happy, so willing to obey.

He worked you open until your thighs began to shake in earnest, until your arms had to be growing sore. He’d roll you over in a moment, he knows he would, he just is too obsessed with the feeling of your pussy soaking his hand. He leans back to sit on his haunches, and his other hand which had been supporting his weight now came around to smooth up your stomach, sending the muscles and flesh twitching with excitement.

“I could…” He drooled all over your lower back where it’d arched for him, “I could fit my whole fist in here.”

You flinched at the spit, tensed around his fingers, squeezed him tight. Fuck you’re tight, he thought, always somehow forever so tight, as if you were begging to be fucked in the way that he would beg to fuck you. You threw a glance over your shoulder as you rocked back on his hand, fucking yourself on his fingers because his brain had stopped momentarily from how good you fucking looked.

“Don’t you dare.” You teased, bringing him back to life.

“I won’t – but I could. I could and you’d take me, your pussy would take the whole thing.” He bent over again, pushed into your cunt with the heel of his palm, pushed you up the bed so your arms would give out and you’d collapse onto the mattress face-first.

“Your big cock is enough.” You muffled, moaned, as he found the little spot inside you that had you panting quickly into your pillow.

“It’s big?” Kylo asked, sweating sweating sweating, dick rock hard against your thigh.

“So big.” You nodded, and the praise only made his dick leak, only made it ooze pre-come from the tip, only made him groan.

He pulled his fingers away from your sweet cunt, brought them up to his mouth to lick off the juices there, licked up every drop of your sweet pussy that he could, the slick making a mess of his goatee. He wanted it, wanted to bathe in it, would bathe in your blood if you’d let him.

“How big?” He asked, guiding his cock to rub between your folds, your pussy throbbing for him.

You teased him, made him growl with the way you shimmied your hips back and forth, back and forth. He wanted to sink his cock into you, wanted to fuck you hard with it, but you hadn’t said yes yet, hadn’t told him he could. Instead the slippery hot lips of your pussy sucked him in, and he had to restrain himself, had to make himself stay just there, just coating his cock in your wetness.

“Fucking huge. So big that I can feel it up in my throat when you fuck me, I can taste it like when you come in my mouth that’s how big it is.” You said, and he groaned, pre-come pulsing out of him, his balls already so tight, his stomach already so tense.

“Please, please let me, please – ” He couldn’t hold back any longer, he just couldn’t he might cry, might weep tears of arousal and desperation if you didn’t let him fuck you properly soon. But he could save his tears for another day, because as soon as he started to plead for your pussy, you found the strength to push back onto him.

You pushed your cunt only an inch onto his cock before he grabbed your hips and shoved himself the rest of the way, knocking the air out of you.

“Yes, yes! Oh, Kylo.” You moaned high and loud, biting the pillow hard, your pussy sopping wet and dripping all over his thighs. He wondered if you came, if you came already just from being fingered and having his big big big cock – you said so, you had said it was big, his fucked up sex drunk mind played on loop – all the way inside you.

He would never get tired of this, of this feeling. Of the way you consume him so. You have inhabited every cell, every nerve, ever fiber of his being, and when you gasp on his cock, he feels like he’s on fire, like he could raze the entire planet down to the ground. You are everything, everything to him, everything he has ever wanted or needed, everything come together just for him.

He doesn’t know how you do it, how you fit him so perfectly inside you – inside your heart, your soul, your mouth, your hands, your cunt, he doesn’t know. But he’s grateful, wanted to show that gratitude.

“Ah, ah,” He grunted, the loud smack of his skin against yours already intoxicating his obsessed brain. His hands grip you tightly, grip your thighs in a way that he knew would bruise. He’d bruise you all over if you’d let him, he so desperately wanted you to let him, so he asked, “Please?”

You shimmied out of his hold for a moment, re-arranged yourself so that you could be on your back, and it was as if the gates of heaven above parted for him with the way you wound your calves around his hips.

He took the opportunity of seeing your face to kiss you, one palm on your jaw, tongue hot hot hot down your throat. He ground his cock into you, rolled his hips, rolled them as they were flush against your sweating body. He loved when you sweat, loved when the strands of your hair stuck to your cheek, your mouth bitten and kissed raw.

“You’re so good for me, so good.” You moaned and panted against his lips as he bent himself into whatever shape he needed to be able to kiss and fuck you at the same time. “The best, do you know that? You’re the best.”

His head goes fuzzy from the praise, fuzzy and fucked up, god you’ve got him under such a spell, under such a tight grip. He’s not complaining, he’d never complain, he only can groan as he speeds his hips up, dragging you down the bed with that tight grip of his, tight like your cunt on his cock.

He built up so much speed that he could almost hear the harsh squeaking of the bed underneath you, could almost hear the slam of the headboard against the wall. He sucked the air straight from your lips, carbon dioxide making him hazy, your hands and nails digging into the muscle of his shoulders, the meat of his back.

“Oh! Oh Kylo, yes!” Your voice is loud, fuck it’s loud, so loud in his ear and yet he feels a million miles away, swimming in the warm tight love comfort joy relief that is your pussy.

He took and took and took all his pleasure straight from the well of lust between your legs, rammed himself up up up into you, rammed himself so hard and fast that before he knew it, your gasps shifted from pleasure to pain.

“Ow -- Fuck!” You gripped his jaw tight with your hand, winced sharply as his cock shoved itself up against your cervix in a way he suddenly realized wasn’t fun, wasn’t comfortable. His chest ached and pained immediately, and he slowed his hips down, less of a frenzy when you shook his jaw a little with a kiss and, “Kylo, be careful with me honey.”

“Sorrysorry I’m sorry.” He rushed to apologize, desperate to make it up to you, frantic for it.

He kissed you, licked a stripe across your teeth, sucked your tongue into his mouth as he forced his hips to slow, forced himself to take his time so he didn’t accidentally hurt you again. He’d kill something if you ever made a shock of pain like that again.

“Say it.” You demanded, not unkindly, but firmly, firm enough that his balls tightened and his hips ground into you harder, the control you had over him, the power, was enough to make him keen, his hips stuttering inside you.

“M’sorry!” He groaned into the crook of your neck where he drooled and panted like some great beast, some monster with claws too sharp as they sunk into your soft flesh like putty.

You preened under the attention, under the gaze of his dark dark dark eyes, your mouth open, unable to close from the feeling of him on top of you, inside of you, all the way up into your throat like you had said.

“Again, like you mean it.” You bared your teeth – and that was the most delicious thing, wasn’t it?

He thought to himself. He was a monster, a beast, yes. But you were some wicked thing in your own right, a force to be reckoned with, a power to be obeyed. You had ambition in your eyes just the same, had that hunger for power simmering under your skin just as he did. Kylo was willing, god he was more than willing, to offer everything to you, to give you anything you could ever ask for.

“I’m sorry!” He gasped, limbs shaking, trembling all over the way your thighs did, the way your face shook with pleasure as your eyes nearly blanked out.

“Alright, it’s alright. Make us come.” You nodded, let him groan and drag his dick through your body, speared himself in all the way.

“Thank you, precious.” He kissed every inch of your skin, every inch.

He licked and bit marks into the valley between your breasts, latched his mouth onto a nipple and sucked hard. Your back arched into him, pushing your body closer closer closer to his, and his head was completely filled with the rush of blood in his ears, your whines and pants and moans caressing him like the soft warmth of a summer sun.

“K – fuck – Kylo,” Your voice grew higher and higher, until you were sobbing, until your throat hiccupped around your moans, and you came.

He loved it, the feeling of you coming underneath him. Your legs gripped his hips like a vice, your nails breaking his skin and the sick sting of pleasure broke him into goosebumps. Your body tensed and the sagged into the mattress, sinking deep into the soft world of blankets and pillows that Kylo worked so hard to keep plump and clean and fresh. He could practically taste the salt of your sweat as your body wracked with tremors of pleasure, could smell the sex on you. It was almost more than he could bare, being this close to you, being so wholly yours.

Your body went pliant for him, as he fucked you through your orgasm, so close, so fucking close to coming himself – and then he grunted out his own orgasm, bright white blinding hot hot hot coursing through him, making the hair on the back of his neck stand up, making his toes curl into the sheets as his hips stilled.

Out of it, nearly blacked out, his hips still moved, milking his cock with the way your pussy gripped him. He was almost afraid that he’d never be able to pull out – and he found he didn’t want to.

You were smiling underneath him, that blissed out look on your face something that calmed Kylo’s frantically buzzing nerves. He felt good, so fucking good, felt over the moon. His cock throbbed with come, pouring it into you, filling you up. He fumbled around the bed with his eyes still shut, until his hand grasped around one of the plush pillows you had nearly torn into two with your teeth.

He shoved the pillow under your hips and kept going, kept grunting in your ear, groaning out deep sighs of pleasure as your body took every last drop he had to give, until you were practically overflowing with his come.

“Love you.” You whispered, your fingers carding through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp in that way that had him sighing happily, little noises in the back of his throat that he couldn’t really control.

Not that he had to, he never had to worry about that with you. He let himself rest on top of your body, cock beginning to go soft inside your beautiful perfect cunt. He let himself rest there, atop your skin, ear listening to the way your heart pounded well and alive underneath your flesh. He calmed his breathing down to the sound of your heartbeat, kissed and mouthed at the soft touch of your breasts.

“Tomorrow?” He pressed the word into your skin, smothered and smeared his reverence there.

Reverence, that was it. That’s what he felt for you, above all else, adoration. He wanted to hold you like some precious thing, wanted to cradle you close to his soul if he had one, if it wasn’t torn to pieces by now.

If it had, Kylo figured, if it had been shredded up into small bite sized chunks, well. You must have been the one to hold them.

“No honey, it has to happen tonight.” You whispered sympathetically, smoothing your hands over his shoulders, breathing deeply. A swell of pride surged through him at that, at how he was so able to make you lose it, make you come so hard that your hands still shook even after the glow of orgasm wore away.

“I want…” He didn’t know how to say it, how to express the way he wanted to lay at your feet like a guard dog he was once, some frothing at the mouth vicious thing that only you could heel. How he would rip the heads off of anyone who so much as looked at you wrong, how he would lay their bones in pretty arrangements before you. He doesn’t know how to say it and it frustrated him, so instead he grunted out an, “Ugh.”

But you, you were so patient with him, so patient always. You smiled, because you knew, knew what he meant without him even having to say any of it.

Still, you wanted to hear it, you liked hearing him talk after he’d come, voice extra deep, baritone made you shiver.

“Use your words darling.” You encouraged, and he couldn’t think of anything else, so when he finally opened his eyes and took in the sight of you in the rich buttery afternoon sun, he feels like he’s on fire again.

“Can I bathe you?” He asked, because it was the one thing he could do to show you, to tell you without saying it.

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His hands don’t shake, in the bathtub. You kept the lights off, so it’s pitch black in the bathroom, black as night though it’s only five in the afternoon. The two of you are crowded together in the tub, the water scalding hot and frothed with expensive soap that Kylo didn’t know the brand name of. He cupped his hands in the water and poured it over your head from where you’re leaning against his chest, his body wrapped around yours.

He can’t stop touching you, can’t stop passing his palms over your body, lightly scrubbing your flesh with the calloused heel of his palm, rinsing away the sweat and sex that clung to your inner thighs.

“So beautiful.” He murmurs, his nose prodding at your soft cheek, making you hum out a little smile.

He kissed you there, traveled slow kisses down your neck, followed the curve of your shoulder. He kissed you, lips plush and swollen from the way he found himself unable to ever stop, unable to ever take himself away from you.

“I’m all yours, forever.” You slid your hands to cover his own, where they had wound tightly around your middle.

The possession flared up in his blood, and the kiss to your shoulder turned more into a bite, one that had you sighing back into his embrace.

“I’m excited.” He said, apropos of nothing, “To kill her.”

And he was, he was thrilled. For years he had stood by and let her run around, let her think she had some piece of control. He had tried to deal with her, had given her Midtown last year in an attempt to keep her under watch, but that had failed. He wondered when she had defected, when she sold out to the cops. Was it before she tried to kill him? Before she cut his face open and left him in the streets to die?

“I know you are, I’m excited to let you.” You smiled, he could tell you were smiling, he could hear it in your voice.

“We have to get dressed.” He pinched at your thigh lightly, making you suck in a breath.

He made no move to get out of the tub though, made no move to take you into the closet and watch you get clothed, watch you get so perfectly put together. You laughed about that, about the stillness, about the way his muscles only tightened around you when you tried to make a notion to stand.

He wrapped his hands around your throat instead, brought your head back back back until it was tipped onto his shoulder. Those big hands of his then smoothed down the front of your body, doing their best to cover every inch, every piece of you that he could.

“I love you so much.” He said, envisioning the way you’d look when he brought you back your trophy, your prize, your gift.

The thought of it almost made him hard again.

“I love you too darling,” You twisted in his embrace, kissed him and straddled his thighs, water sloshing all over the place, “But we have to go meet with the rabbi.”

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sorry it isn’t the full chapter, it’s turning out to be way longer than planned! So for now, please enjoy this sneak peek! <33

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren/reader #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren smut #kylo ren fanfiction #mob au #mafia au #mafia boss #mob boss!kylo #mob!kylo #modern au

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get-your-fics · 5 years

Text

hostage

Summary: Steve takes it upon himself to protect you after your family was taken in the blip, but he ends up going to extreme lengths to do so.

Pairing: dark!Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings: Smut, non-con/rape, stalking, kidnapping, violence, language, angst

A/N: This is for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor‘s in the dark! writing challenge. She is an absolutely amazing writer, so please go check her blog out if you somehow haven’t already haha. Congrats on 3k, Roo! You totally deserve it!

“Marco!”

“Polo!”

You tried to slink away from your little sister in the water, but her head snapped in your direction. She waded towards you cautiously, her arms stretched out in front of her. You panicked and started to swim away, not caring how much noise you made. She laughed and started to chase after you at full speed. You dodged around other people in the pool and flashed them apologetic smiles. You found yourself trapped in the corner of the pool, and you cursed under your breath. A hand clamped down on your shoulder and whirled you around.

“Gotcha!” She grinned at you triumphantly.

“No way!” You wrapped your arm around her shoulders and pulled her to you. “You had your eyes open the whole time, I know it!” You ruffled her hair.

“I didn’t cheat!” she whined, pushing you off of her. “Now, stop being a sore loser. It’s your turn.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fine,” you sighed. You swam to the middle of the pool and closed your eyes. You counted to ten to give her time to move around. “Marco!”

“Polo!” Her voice was faint, and it sounded like it was coming from behind you on the left.

You turned around and swam towards where you thought she was. “Marco!”

“Polo!” Her voice was closer now.

You smiled as you heard the splash of water. It was barely audible over the noise of laughter from other people in the pool as she was trying to move quietly, but it was just loud enough for you to hear. You doggie paddled in her direction. “Marco!”

“Po...” she trailed off, but you could hear her right next to you. You reached out your arms, expecting to grab onto her, but there was nothing there. You furrowed your brow. She must’ve gotten away fast.

“Marco!” You waited for her response, but it didn’t come. “Marco?” Still nothing. You huffed. “Emily, we talked about this! You have to say polo!” You spun around. Dread started to settle in the pit of your stomach. “Emily?”

In fact, it was eerily silent. The only sound was the slosh of the water around you. You opened your eyes and looked around you. There was no one in the pool, and the once clear, cerulean water was now tainted black. Black as ash, black as char.

Black as dust.

“Everyone disappeared that day. My family, my friends. That was over a year ago now, but I can still remember it as if it was yesterday.” You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip, your eyes welling with tears. You must’ve told this story a thousand times, but it still got to you. “No matter how hard I try, I just can’t forget.”

“You don’t have to forget to move on, (Y/N). It’s important to remember the loved ones we lost,” Michael who led the support group explained to you in a soothing tone. “But we can’t let our futures be ruled by the past. We have to build our lives while honoring the memory of those who are gone, to move on in a way that they would be proud of.” His eyes locked with yours. “Thank you for sharing your story, (Y/N). Hopefully, it will encourage other people to share theirs as well.” He glanced down at his watch. “That’s our time for today. Thank you, everyone, for coming. I’ll see you all again next week, same place, same time.”

The legs of the metal chairs screeched against the tiled floor as the other people in the circle stood up. They gathered their things, most of them heading straight for the door while some of them hung around after and chatted. You grabbed your bag from where it was slung over the back of your chair and threw it over your shoulder. You were ready to join the rest of those bolting for the exit when a man named Dave stepped into your path.

“Hey, (Y/N), right?” You nodded wordlessly. “I just wanted to say you were really brave for sharing that with us. I don’t think I would have the guts to do that.” He laughed nervously.

“Thanks, Dave.” You offered him a weak smile. He had only been in the support group for a couple of weeks. He didn’t really speak much. The only reason you knew his name was because of the introductions at the beginning of every meeting.

“My parents disappeared in the snap too, so I know how hard it is.” He lowered his gaze to his shoes. Everyone you met had lost someone nowadays. It was the new normal. “If you ever want to talk about it one on one,” he reached into his jacket and retrieved a small slip of paper, “feel free to call me. We could go get coffee or something.”

You looked down at the paper in his hand. Scrawled on it was his phone number in black ink. You took it from him and shoved it in the back pocket of your jeans. “I’ll think about it,” was all you said.

“Okay, cool. Bye, (Y/N).” He waved to you as he started to retreat. “See you soon.”

You waved back and watched him leave. You waited, giving him a head start, before moving towards the exit to the church where the support group was held. You took the slip of paper out of your pocket and discreetly disposed of it in the trashcan next to the doors. Many people had started to reach out to one another, to make new connections to fill in the gaps and holes left from the old ones. But you weren’t one of those people. Your associations were few and far between, and you were starting to prefer it that way. The less amount of people in your life meant less of a chance of getting hurt again.

You kept your head low as you left the church and headed back to your tiny, studio apartment in your hometown. You had been attending the support group meeting for a little over a year now. It was your last hope, but nothing had changed. You still felt like there were heavy chains attached to your ankles weighing you down and holding you back. You still wished that you had been a part of the fifty percent, that either all of your family had survived or you had gone with them.

You took a shortcut through an alley to your apartment and immediately regretted it when you saw a shadowed figure leaning against the building. It pushed off of the brick wall and was on you in a second. You heard the cock of a gun and saw the glint of metal in the dim light of the far away street lamps. “Purse, now,” the deep voice growled.

You didn’t argue with the man. There was no point. He was way bigger than you were, so overpowering him would be impossible. You let out a small sigh before letting the strap of your bag fall off your shoulder. You did what every adult had advised you to do ever and threw it a good distance away from you so if the mugger dove for the bag, you’d have a chance to escape.

The man didn’t move. He stood stock still in front of you, like he was contemplating something. “The necklace too.”

That sent a pump of fear surging through your veins. Your hand absentmindedly reached up to touch the small, diamond pendant dangling from the gold chain around your neck. It had been your mother’s before she had given it to you. “I... I can’t,” you stammered, holding back tears.

“I don’t think you understand.” He raised the gun higher so you could see it clearly. He aimed it directly at your head. “Give me the necklace now, or I put a bullet through your skull.”

You slowly lowered your arm to your side. If you had to die over protecting your mother’s necklace, then so be it. You rolled back your shoulders and lifted your chin. You stared down your nose at the man. He tightened his grip on the gun, readying to pull the trigger.

A hand wrapped around the back of the man’s neck and lifted him off of the ground. The man’s eyes bulged, and he let out a sharp yelp as he was slammed against the wall of the building by another shadowed figure. The figure held him up like a rag doll and punched him square in the jaw. He let go of him, and the mugger dropped to the gravel in a dirty puddle, limp and unconscious.

You pressed yourself up against the brick wall opposite the figure, panting for breath. Whoever this man was, he was unlike anyone you had ever seen before. He was tall and stocky, with broad shoulders and huge biceps straining against the fabric of his hoodie. He unclenched his large fists, and you could tell he was restraining any animosity he had and unbridled strength he possessed. He slowly turned around, his face shadowed by the hood pulled up over his head.

“Are you all right, miss?” You furrowed your brow. His voice sounded strangely familiar, like you had heard it somewhere before.

He reached up and lowered his hood. A slat of light streaming in from the end of the alleyway shone down on his face. He had chiseled features, a strong jaw, short, golden hair. His glossy, blue eyes caught what little light there was and reflected it like the stars in the sky.

“C-captain America?” you stuttered.

A soft chuckle fell from his pink lips. “That’s me.”

That only added to your confusion. “I didn’t know avengers saved people being mugged in alleyways now,” you joked.

“I happened to be in the area.” He leaned down and picked up your bag from where you had thrown it. “But I’m not what’s important right now. Are you okay?”

He held your bag out to you, and you took it from him. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.” What business could an avenger have in your hometown? Shouldn’t he be off saving the world somewhere or hunting down some big, evil villain? Shouldn’t he be trying to reverse the effects of the blip?

“Really, it was no problem.” He beamed at you triumphantly, his face alit. It was strangely off-putting.

You looked over his shoulder at the mugger collapsed in a heap on the ground. “Is he going to be okay?” There was something odd about the way he was so still. He didn’t even look like he was breathing.

Steve’s face twisted with confusion before he saw who you were looking out. “He’s just out cold. He’ll probably wake up in a couple of hours.” He looked back at you. “Why does it matter? He attacked you.” His focus on you was undivided, like you were the only thing in the world.

“You’re right. It doesn’t.” You forced a strained smile on your face. “Thanks again for your help. Goodbye.”

You started to walk away when he blocked your path. “Where do you live? Maybe I could walk you home.”

“That’s really not necessary.” You wrung your hands together.

“Please, it’s the least I could do. Wouldn’t want you to get into another incident like this one without me there to save you, now would I?” He grinned.

Your smile faltered. “I can take care of myself.”

He raised his brows, like he was taken aback at your response. “Really? ‘Cause from the looks of it, you would be bleeding out on the ground right now if I hadn’t have come to the rescue.” He loomed over you. “Why is that necklace so important to you, you’d be willing to die for it?”

You shrunk away from him and grasped the diamond resting against your collarbone again. “My mother gave it to me. She was-”

“Taken from you in the blip?” he finished for you. You nodded. It was a pretty obvious guess. “I understand how it is, (Y/N). I lost people myself, but you can’t let it rule your life forever.” He extended a hand to you. “Now, please. Allow me to take you home.”

Every muscle in your body froze. “How did you know my name?”

An unreadable expression came over his face, but it was replaced in a second by his usual poster-boy smile. “You told it to me, remember?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “No, I didn’t.” You eyed him suspiciously.

He slowly lowered his arm and dropped it to his side. The corners of his lips twitched before his smile slipped from his face. His lips pressed into a thin, straight line, and his blue eyes hardened. All the light drained from them until they were two blackholes in the middle of his face, sucking and drawing you into them.

“I’m sorry we had to meet this way, (Y/N).” His tone was dark and low, and it made chills run down your spine. “I didn’t plan for it to happen like this, but I guess we rarely ever do.”

Some instinct deep in your gut told you to run. You tried to sidestep him, but he was faster than you. He grabbed your arm and pushed you back against the wall. The back of your head connected with the brick, causing your field of vision to go blurry. You could barely see Steve in front of you as he reached in the pocket of his hoodie and took out a syringe filled with a bright green liquid. How did you think you could outrun a super soldier?

You struggled against him, but his arms kept you still. He pressed his chest flush against yours as he jabbed the syringe into the side of your neck. The sharp sting of the needle piercing your skin cut through the dull ache in your skull. “Shhh,” he shushed you as he injected you with the liquid. “Don’t worry. Everything is going to be all right. You’re with me now.”

His voice sounded muffled to your ears. Your body relaxed as whatever he had injected you with involuntarily invaded your senses. Gray, fuzzy dots formed over your already hazy vision until it was completely enveloped in black, and the sweet bliss of unconsciousness took its hold over you.

You slowly returned to your senses. You felt like you were trying to move through molasses as you tried to get the gears spinning in your brain again. Your limbs felt heavy and weighed down, like they were made out of lead. Your eyes fluttered open, but you still couldn’t see anything. There was a bag over your head, shrouding you in darkness.

You let out a low groan, and you heard footsteps draw closer to you. They stopped right in front of you, and the brown bag was ripped off of your head. You winced as you were blinded with light. You blinked rapidly to adjust your gaze before taking in your surroundings. You were in a rather spacious room with concrete walls and a cold, stone floor. The only source of light was the singular, overhead lamp shining down on you, keeping everything beyond the pool of light you were in out of focus.

You became painfully aware of the position you were in. Your wrists were tied above your head to a rope hanging from the ceiling. You were suspended enough so your toes just barely touched the ground, keeping you in a state of constant discomfort and exhaustion. Your bones and joints were sore, and you struggled to balance yourself on the tips of your toes. A strangled cry crawled its way out of your throat.

“I know, little girl.” Your head snapped to Steve who stood in front of you. He looked completely unhinged now. His lips were twisted into a sinister grin, and his blown out pupils swallowed all light that hit them. “I know it hurts, but this is temporary, as long as you behave.” The way he said behave made your stomach coil in repulsion.

“Where am I?” Your voice was hoarse and strained.

“Somewhere where no one will find us, where we can be alone.” He lifted a hand to caress your face, and you jerked away from his touch. His grin wavered. “You know, I have to commend you, (Y/N). You are a smart girl. Most people wouldn’t notice a slip up like that, but you are not most people. That’s why I like you so much. You’re cunning, like when you threw away Dave’s phone number because you knew he’d never be worthy of someone like you.”

You bristled. “You were watching me?” He nodded. “Why?”

He reached in the back pocket of his jeans and held up a crinkled piece of paper for you to see. It was a newspaper clipping of an article about you detailing the loss of your family and friends. A lot of them had been run about people after the blip. This one featured a picture your best friend had taken of you on a bridge overlooking a river. Even though the ink was faded, you could make out the radiant smile on your face and the bright look in your eyes. You felt like you were staring at a completely different girl. This version of you was so foreign to you now.

“You lost everyone dear to you in the blip, and all because of me. Because I failed to prevent it, failed to stop Thanos.” He clenched his jaw so hard the veins in his neck stood out. “So I thought that maybe if I followed you for a little while, if I could just help you from afar, I could make it up to you, but it wasn’t enough.” He pressed a hand to his chest. “You need me. The only way I can truly protect you is if I have you in my grasp. Our little run-in in the alley showed me that.”

You shook your head. “You’re insane.” He was Captain America! Wasn’t he supposed to be the good guy, the one whose face was plastered over all the posters with inspiring words attached to them? The star spangled hero? The man standing in front of you now was anything but that. He was like a depraved, funhouse mirror version of him. I guess the blip changed us both. “You think just because you feel guilty you can stalk me and try to control my life!”

He chuckled, the sound bouncing off of the walls. It sounded so out of place for the situation and slowly morphed into maniacal cackling. “You know, another thing about you is that you’re really stubborn. You’re so insistent on being alone. I mean, you didn’t even want me to walk you home after you almost died in an alley by yourself!”

“Because I don’t need you, you sadistic fuck! I don’t need anyone!” Your voice shook with rage. Angry tears sprung from the corners of your eyes and dripped off your chin.

“You do need me.” He cupped your face in his large hands, wiping away the tracks left behind by your tears. “More than you realize right now, I know. But we’ll work on that. I’ll teach you to trust me, to not isolate yourself so much. I’ll give you your old life back.” His hands drifted down to your hips. “I’ll make you whole again.”

You moved back as much as possible, ignoring the way the rope cut into your skin at the undesirable position. It rubbed your wrists raw until they were red and irritated, and you could feel wet blood rolling down your arms in thick drops. You screamed wildly before kicking your leg at him with all the force you could muster. He caught it before you could land a solid blow to his gut, a low chuckle rumbling through his chest.

“I know every move you make, (Y/N). I know everything there is to know about you.” He reached for the fly on your jeans. “I know you better than you know yourself.”

“No! Get off of me!” You shouted desperately as he undid the button and zipper on your pants. He pulled the denim and your panties down your legs in one fell swoop. “Get away from me! Let me go! Let me go!”

He threw the discarded garments over his shoulder and grabbed your hips again. “Shhh,” he shushed you as he pulled you close to him. “I just want to hold you. I just want to make you feel better.”

He gripped your thighs and forced your legs to fold around his waist. He lifted you up, and you hated the flush of relief that ran through you as the weight of your body was removed from your arms and shoulders. He smirked at you and moved his hand in between your bodies, pulling his cock out of his jeans. Fear coursed through your veins as you got a glance at the size of him.

“Stop it. Get away.” Your voice cracked. You knew it was hopeless.

“There’s no stopping me, (Y/N).” He positioned himself at your entrance, and you didn’t have time to prepare before he pushed in. Your mouth fell open as the head of his cock stretched you open. You tensed against him, your chest heaving as you gasped for air. “Just relax,” he whispered in your ear. You tried to listen to him, willing to do anything to stop the searing burn as he entered you. He slid into you to his limit, pushing you way past yours. “There. Isn’t that better?”

He moved in and out of you at a slow pace. You gritted your teeth and willed yourself to focus on the pangs of pleasure sent rolling through you with each thrust of his hips. Slick coated the inside of your thighs, and he sped up as you relaxed around him. Your cheeks were flushed from the heat and embarrassment at taking any pleasure out of this at all, but you were grateful that your arousal meant his rough treatment hurt less.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this moment,” he grunted. “To touch you,” he carded a hand through your hair, earning a squeak from you as his fingers caught on the tangles, “to kiss you.” He smashed his lips against yours, silencing any screams that wanted to escape.

He tightened his grip on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin, certain to bruise. The obscene noise of skin slapping against skin filled the otherwise quiet room as you bounced up and down on his cock. He pulled away from your lips and nuzzled the tip of his nose against your cheekbone. His short and shallow breaths filled your ears, and his white t-shirt clung to his chest with sweat where your bodies made contact.

“Cum for me,” he managed between pants. His hand snaked up your torso to cup your bouncing tit. “I want to feel you cum on my cock.”

You could feel a wall of pleasure building inside you. You twisted your hands in the rope, desperate for something to cling onto. You could no longer stop the needy mewls falling from your lips in time with his thrusts. Your walls clenched around his cock as the wall came crashing down, euphoria washing over you. You leaned your head back, your thighs twitching around him.

“Yes,” he breathed out. He fucked into you at an inhuman pace. You were too dazed to realize he had cum inside of you until it was too late. He stilled inside of you as his cum painted your walls.

Your chest rose up and down violently as you caught your breath. You closed your eyes, relieved that this torment was finally over. Then, you felt him harden inside of you again, and your eyes snapped open. A whine left your parted lips.

He chuckled. “Oh, little girl,” the lustful, dark look in his half-lidded eyes shocked you to the core, “you didn’t think I was done with you yet, did you?”

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bluezey · 4 years

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Inside Onward - Detour

A short one, but an fun and interesting one. Not only do we get the emotions handling the argument from the film, but we get another twist inspired by Inside Out. While it’s gonna be complicated if you don’t pay attention, it will be worth it, especially if you’re a Barley fan. That’s right, in this chapter, we’re gonna take a glimpse into Barley’s Headquarters! As if writing for one Headquarters wasn’t difficult enough, now I’m writing for two! The things I do to make the plot more fun and meaningful for both sources! But, if I pulled it off right, the chaos is gonna be worth it.

The air was thick with silence inside Guinevere. It was never quiet with Barley in the room. There was always noise, either from Barley talking or Barley causing something to happen, be it an adventure, a game, music, encouragement, laughter or mischief. But now, silence. It made Ian feel miles apart from Barley, even when they were both in the front seats of the van.

Ian took a quick glance over from the road to Barley. Barley was focused on the road, as if nothing else existed at that moment. All that was in front of them was darkness, and what little road in front of then that Guinevere could reveal with her headlight. Ian quickly turned his eyes back to the road, the awkward silence rising in the van around them.

Joy eyed the screen curiously. “This is new. I don’t remember Barley acting like this before.”

“Barley’s never been called a screw up before.” Fear clung tightly to his sides, his fingers trembling as his hands squeezed against his sweatshirt. “Especially by his own brother. Oh, we screwed this up. We screwed this whole thing up.”

“We didn’t do anything!” Anger argued, pointing at Family Island. “Ian did!”

“That’s impossible,” Disgust fought back. “Family Island is run by a happy core memory. No way Ian would feel that way about Barley. It must have been Joy, he was at the controls.”

Joy defended himself, “I told you, I didn’t lie! I’m a terrible liar!”

“ENOUGH!!” Fear gripped the sides of his head, took a deep breath, and exhaled. Still shaken, but in some control, he continued, “This arguing is getting us nowhere. And we need to help Barley. Look at him!”

The emotions gathered around the console as they looked up at the screen. Ian glanced over at Barley again, looking stoic, stone, serious. Silent. Barley was loud, Barley was happy, Barley was emotional, always wore his heart on his sleeve. Now, for once in his life, Ian and his emotions were looking at a Barley who focused more on the road than his own feelings. He looked almost emotionless.

Sadness sighed. “What’s going on inside his head?”

~~~~

The Headquarters was dressed like an ancient medieval tavern, with stone foundations, wooden supports and floor. The bare walls, however, were clothed in posters of rock bands, fantasy artwork and Quests of Yore themed memorabilia. There were shelves for such things as mind manuals, idea bulbs and daydreams, but also shelves for board games, snacks and sodas, and CDs and audio cassettes. In the back of Headquarters was a circular table set up for an rpg campaign led by one dungeon master and four players. Scattered across the floor were a few random toys, wrappers, soda cans, and a memory orb or two.

Barley’s Joy was leaning against the console, facing away from the screen, towards the four others that made Barley’s emotions. While the others dressed like Barley, from his pointy ears, blue hair and beanie down to his vest and cargo shorts, his Joy was dressed in the same outfit as Barley’s adventurer costume, complete with horned helmet and toy sword at his side. Usually Barley’s Headquarters was busy, moving, loud. But the emotions, even his Joy, needed a moment of quiet to think this through.

“We must have misheard him,” Barley’s Joy finally spoke, his childish smile now a serious smirk. “That must have been it. That’s the only explanation.”

“Joy, we heard him,” Barley’s Anger growled. “I heard him, you heard him. Feldar’s Horn, we all heard him!”

“Ugh, I can’t believe this,” Barley’s Disgust scoffed. “After all those years, all those memories. This is how he treats us?”

Barley’s Fear was rocking back and forth on the couch. “How could he think such a thing about us? A screw up? A screw up? What did we screw up to deserve this?”

Barley’s Sadness simply bawled into the collar of his denim vest.

“Okay okay, so maybe he said it,” Barley’s Joy admitted, “but that doesn’t mean he means it.”

“It’s magic, Joy!” Barley’s Anger shouted, jumping up onto his feet. “You can’t lie to magic!”

“Barley?” Ian quietly, and finally, spoke.

Barley’s Joy turned to the screen, the other emotions gathered around the console with him.

“I don’t know what happened back there,” Ian softly said, “but I don’t think you’re a screw up.”

Barley’s Joy gave a smile. “See? Mystery solved. Ian didn’t mean it.”

Barley’s Anger held up his hand, backing Barley’s Joy away from the console. His Anger snapped his head back to the screen and glared.

“Maybe the magic got it wrong,” Ian thought aloud.

“Oh, you’re asking for it, kid.” Barley’s Anger cracked his knuckles and slammed his fist onto the console.

Barley responded with the quietest, emotionless, “yeah.” Without taking his eyes off the road, Barley turned on the radio. The silence was now drowned out by rock music, but that didn’t end the awkwardness growing between them.

Joy smiled a little. “Well, he said something.”

“That’s not good enough.” Fear pressed a few buttons on the console.

“I don’t know what happened,” Ian called out over the music. Barley responded by turning the music up louder. Even with the tunes being ear splitting inside the small space of Guinevere, Ian still called out to him. “Barley? Barley!”

“You stupid little runt!” Barley’s Anger yanked on the big levers in front of him.

Barley, without a word, turned almost recklessly into a small, lone rest area off the side of the road. Nothing was there except a small vending machine, a smaller building for a restroom, and one wooden picnic table by a tree. Guinevere’s side door flew open as Barley jumped out and stormed his way straight to the vending machine. In his haste, he tore open a small bag of cheese puffs and shoved a handful into his mouth.

Ian climbed out of the van after him. “Barley! Come on!”

“Say something!” Fear begged. “Anything!!”

“I am not a screw up,” Barley said, straight and sternly.

“Anything but that!” Fear cried.

“Let me try.” Joy took the controls.

“I never said you were,” Ian replied.

“The magic said it for you,” Barley argued, trying to purchase a soda from the vending machine.

“Well,” Ian tried to explain away the situation, “maybe the magic got it wrong.”

“What?” Barley’s Joy gasped in disbelief.

Barley’s Disgust said flatly, “He did not just say that.”

Barley’s Anger removed his beanie as he grabbed the levers in front of him. “That’s it!” he roared as flames rose furiously from atop his head.

“Magic doesn’t get it wrong!” Barley snapped, turning to Ian as he slammed his bag of cheese curls against the concrete at his feet. “The cop asked a question, you answered, and magic revealed the truth. Right?”

Ian was left standing alone, looking anywhere but at his brother, while his emotions were scrambling for an answer.

“No, I didn’t lie,” Joy replied.

“Someone did,” Disgust argued, glaring at Joy.

“Well, it wasn’t me!” Joy stepped back.

“And it wasn’t Ian!” Anger argued, glaring back up at Joy.

“Would everyone just stop arguing and think of something!” Fear snapped at all of them. “Barley needs an answer!”

Barley glared further at Ian. No matter how much Ian looked away, he could still feel Barley’s hurtful, irate stare. “Right?” he asked again.

At a loss, Fear slammed his hand on a button.

“I don’t know how any of this stuff works!” Ian finally responded, in as much panic as frustration. “All I know is that everything we’ve done tonight has gone wrong!”

“It’s gone wrong because you won’t listen to me,” Barley argued.

“Oh, you are not pinning this on Ian,” Disgust said as he pressed a few buttons on the console.

Fear gasped. “Disgust, no!”

Ian was taken aback, but returned in disbelief. “Are you kidding? Cause everything tonight was your idea.”

“That little snot nosed brat!” Barley’s Disgust snapped as he took over.

“Because you wouldn’t let me handle things my way,” Barley debated. “You wouldn’t let me handle the Manticore, you freaked out when I talked to the sprites, because you don’t think I have any good ideas.”

“No!” Fear shrieked as he scrambled for the controls.

“That’s not true!” Joy cried as he input a similar command on the other side of the console.

“What?” Ian exclaimed. “Of course I do!”

Barley’s Disgust smirked in disbelief as he flicked a switch.

“Great,” Barley replied, adding defiantly, “then I think we should take the Path of Peril.”

Joy nodded with a smile. “Oh, fair enough,” he thought to himself as he pressed a few buttons.

“And I also think that would be good,” Ian replied. “… normally.”

“See?” Barley snapped.

Joy pulled his hands back. “Hey, what the?” In his confusion, he caught Fear on the other side of the console, with his finger on a button. Realizing he was caught, Fear pulled his hand back and gripped his sides.

“Fear!” the emotions shouted, in various levels of confusion and irritation.

“No, you don’t understand!” Fear froze, trying to think of how to explain this. Realizing he had none, he grabbed the controls instead.

“Fear?” Joy called out as he and the other emotions crowded around Fear.

“I told you, this is not a game,” Ian explained to Barley. “And what’s important right now is dad. And right now he’s in that van, and he’s confused…”

Fear tried to keep on the console as the emotions tried to pull him off. “No, no! I’m trying to help Ian!” he pleaded.

“Ian needs to forgive Barley!” Joy called out.

“That doesn’t mean follow the death trail!” Fear shouted back.

“That doesn’t mean being a console hog either!” Disgust snapped.

“Guys! Stop! Look!” Sadness shouted, pointing at the screen. The emotions stopped fighting and looked up. Onscreen was Barley, but instead of being angry at Ian, he was looking over Ian’s shoulder at… well, whatever it was, it sure was leaving Barley dumbfounded.

“What?” Ian asked, confused and concerned. He turned to where Barley was looking, which appeared to be Guinevere. The van was bouncing around a bit as Dad’s legs were hopping from one foot to another in the beat of the music. Or, at least attempting to be in time with the music. “What is he doing?” Ian asked, just as unsure as Barley was.

Barley’s emotions were staring in a daze at Dad bounding out of the side of the van. “I don’t know,” Barley’s Joy said slowly. “But, I think…”

“I think dad can feel the vibrations of the music,” Barley told Ian, “and he’s… dancing.”

Ian’s emotions were at a loss at what they were looking at. “Even I know that’s not dancing,” Disgust commented.

“Do seizures run in our family?” Sadness thought aloud.

As he watched the mannequin top half off Dad flop off, leaving just the energetic dancing legs behind, Joy began to give a little chuckle. “This is kind of cute… in a horribly embarrassing way.”

“Wow.” Ian exhaled a chuckle to himself, not able to take his eyes off what he is seeing. “He is terrible.”

Barley had to agree, “Yeah, he’s really, really bad.” Barley noticed the legs approaching him, then fumble to wrap his leg around Barley’s and pull him onto the grass by the picnic table. Barley couldn’t help but laugh as Dad went back, still dancing, approaching Ian.

“Oh, here he comes,” Fear said in disbelief.

“Oh no, don’t let it touch us,” Disgust said aloud.

“Come on, it’s just dad.” Joy smiled as he watched Ian get nudged onto the grass.

“Does Dad want us to… but Ian’s not a good dancer,” Fear told the others.

“Compared to that?” Anger asked, pointing to Dad’s legs, practically flailing as it danced in the middle of the small plot of grass, between Ian and Barley.

“Oh! Oh! I just thought of something!” Joy pressed a button.

“Just imagine what the top half of this dance looks like,” Ian said with a laugh.

Barley’s Joy lit up with excitement. “Oh! I got this!”

“I bet it goes something like this.” Barley stepped behind Dad, then began waving his finger in the air, trying to dance goofily.

The two brothers shared a laugh as the legs between them kept dancing to his own tune, or some kind of tune, definitely not the music playing from Guinevere from the looks of how his legs flailed about. Ian’s emotions shared a good laugh as Disgust helped Ian barely move his feet and arms, at a basic attempt at joining in on the dancing. Barley was getting into the music and dancing along, in his Headquarters even his emotions were dancing like no one was watching. Dad tripped on a rock, causing him to fall backwards onto his waist. “Oh, I got him,” Barley’s Joy said as he got to the console.

Barley helped the legs to sitting when Barley noticed, “Looks like you danced your shoelaces off, pop.” As Barley tied Dad’s shoes, Ian picked up the mannequin and placed it back on the sentient legs.

Barley’s Sadness stood next to Joy and flipped a switch.

“You know,” Barley said, “I want to see dad too.”

Joy pressed a button in response as the other emotions stopped dancing at the console.

“Yeah, I know,” Ian replied.

Barley finished tying Dad’s shoes and stood. “It’s not fair for you to call me a screw up if you don’t give me a chance to do something right.”

The emotions’ smiles faded, remembering what they were doing before the dancing. Still unsure, Fear pressed a few buttons.

Ian asked, “Are you sure this Path of Peril is the best way to get to the mountain?”

Barley smiled softly, surely, and nodded.

It was still not enough to convince Fear. Then again, it would take moving a mountain to convince him. Still looking for answers, Fear looked to his left. Disgust and Sadness both looked up at him and nodded. He looked to his right at Anger and Joy. Joy smiled, placed his hand on Fear’s shoulder, and nodded. Still unsure, Fear pressed a button.

Ian smiled. “Okay.”

Barley and Ian helped their Dad back into Guinevere and returned to the road. Not a word was exchanged between the brothers, they were both quiet and reserved. But inside Barley’s Headquarters, the emotions were celebrating as if they completed a quest.

“To Raven’s Point, my men!” Barley’s Joy triumphantly stood at the console, unsheathed his sword and pointed boldly ahead. “Onward!”

#pixar onward #pixar inside out #inside onward #sir iandore of lightfoot #ian lightfoot #barley lightfoot #joy #sadness #anger #disgust #fear

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hettiesworld · 4 years

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Pairing: Andy Barber x OFC x Ransom Drysdale

Summary: After the trial of his son, Jacob, Lynn asked Andy to take over Neal’s job of prosecuting Hugh ‘Ransom’ Drysdale (He’s trying to get Ransom into prison). Andy got told before the trial by his father that Hugh is his twin brother that was separated at birth.

Warning(s): Spoilers from both D.J. and Knives Out, angst, fluff, mentions of murder, attempted murder, assault, arson (Idk tbh xD 😂)

Author’s note: Most of these gifs are not mine!

Chapter 1: Against All Odds

Andy was at the hospital, signing in. The hospital was stuffy and the air had an undertone of bleach. The walls were magnolia and were scraped in places from the hundreds of trolleys that have bumped into them. The pictures on the walls were cheap benign prints of uplifting scenes and above the double doors are large blue plastic signs with the areas of the hospital that lie ahead.

The nurse entered the reception area in blue scrubs, po-faced, serious, washing her hands at the sink like she was lost entirely to worrying thoughts.

“Back so soon?”

Andy was confused as a puzzled expression was left on his face. This was the first time he came to visit Laurie and Jacob that day.

He took the thought out of his head and walked down the corridor towards his ex-wife’s hospital room.

The hospital room was like a concrete pen with a window the size of a biscuit tin lid. It had a stagnant smell, like it's cleaned with plain water instead of disinfectant. The bed sat low to the ground, the frame baring the signs of rust and the mattress worryingly thin. Andy bit his lip. Leaving wasn’t an option for Laurie.

“Did anyone visit you earlier?” Queried Andy leaned against the doorway of the room, looking down on Laurie.

“Maybe. Why do you care all of a sudden?” Laurie looked away to look out of the window. Andy sighed and walked into the room and sat in the chair away from the bed.

“Just tell me. Who visited you?”

Laurie kept quiet. She was hiding a secret. Just like Andy had been doing to her. That followed up to the divorce.

Andy sighed once again and stood up.

“I’m going to visit Jacob, okay?” Andy stood up and looked at Laurie one more time, walking towards the entrance.

Silence.

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

Finally, Andy found the visitor’s house. He asked the nurse for their name and he was currently outside of his house. It was quite the drive from Newton to the main city of Boston.

The house was new. Very new. It looked like it had been finished last week. It looked almost too new in some strange way. It was as if it had rolled off a production line, but they had forgotten to apply the mandatory layer of colour to it. The windows were huge and seemingly inspired by something truly alien. Anyone could see into the house from an uncomfortable distance.

Andy could then see a figure in the window. Talking on the phone.

Same jaw structure. Same colour eyes. Same lip shape.

Andy got out of the car, hands turning into a fist, as he walked towards the security gate. The guard thought it was the guy in the house and immediately let him through.

He knocked on the door. Heavily.

He waited for a while until the door opened.

Heart beating faster and faster.

“Hello?” The guy growled at Andy. “Can you see I’m on the phone?”

“What were you doing at the hospital?”

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re on about.”

“Answer me!” Commanded Andy, pointing a finger at the mysterious guy and slammed the door behind him. “Cause’ I’m not leaving until you tell the truth!”

“Visiting my grandmother.”

“Bullshit.” Andy replied. “I know you were stalking my ex-wife, so tell me. What were you doing at the fucking hospital?!”

“I’ll call the cops, you fucking psycho! You’re clearly stalking me!” Ransom accused. He had the exact same voice as Andy and it is really creeping him out.

Andy knew he visited his ex-wife. And the guy knew he’s getting Andy on the urge of hatred.

“You stay away from her and my son.” Andy threatened him and walked out of his house, leaving the guy to give him a smug smirk and said to him as he left,

“Don’t be upset about this. Maybe the old man would be proud. It runs in our blood.”

@optimistic-dinosaur-nacho @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @donutloverxo @captain-a-rogerss @iguessweallcrazyithinktho @stop-obsessing-over-those-actors @averyrogers83 @pegasusdragontiger

#andy barber x oc #ransom drysdale x oc #chris evans #masterlist #nbarnes

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greenygreenland · 4 years

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Wannabe Chap. 10: Star Wars x Reader

-i'm working on so many different things (reboots of a bunch of old wattpad stories of mine and a bunch of one-shots on my tumblr, which is greenygreenland) -my wattpads are APH_Nordic_Greenland and reallygreenland if you're wondering (check them out please!)

'ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴀꜱᴋɪɴɢ ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ. ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ɪ ɢᴏ? ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ...' -ꜱʜᴏᴜᴛ ʙᴀʙʏ, ʀʏᴏᴋᴜᴏᴜꜱʜᴏᴋᴜ ꜱʜᴀᴋᴀɪ

(Y/n) had no problem fighting the troopers back in the detention block. She could go all day even with the splitting amount of headaches she seemed to get all the time. Fighting was simple, but putting up with her so-called 'saviours' was harder.

At this point, she'd pay a hundred credits to shut up Han-whatever-his-last-name-was and Luke-wannabe-skywalker telling the former to shut his freaking trap while Princess-I'm-So-Great tried to keep her Gucci boots out of the garbage water. (Y/n) wasn't sure what evoked such strong emotions within her, so she blamed it on being stuck in a literal dump.

"What an incredible smell you discovered! Let's get out of here." shouted Han. He raised his blaster at the door and Luke's eyes widened as he threw out a hand in a 'STOP!' motion. "No wait!"

Of course it was too late--everything always had to be. So the laser bounced off the door and ricocheted around the durasteel walls, going round and round until it hit some poor unsuspecting box in the corner of the cramped room. "Will you forget about it?" cried Luke. "I already tried it, it's magnetically sealed!"

(Y/n) ignited her lightsaber with a huff. "Excuse me, Chewie." He growled in reply and scooted away from the door. As the group argued behind her, (Y/n) stabbed her lightsaber into the thick durasteel. She guided it through the metal, every now and then pausing to rest her tired arms.

There was a weird shift in the Force. (Y/n) wanted to say it was her imagination, but gut feelings were signs too complex for the mind to fully comprehend, and it was then that she realised a terrifying fact.

They weren't alone.

"Put that thing away!" shouted the princess. "You're gonna get us killed!"

"Absolutely your Worship."

"Excuse me." said (Y/n)

"Look, I had everything under control till you led us down here!"

"Guys."

"You know, it's not gonna take 'em long to figure out what happened to us!"

(Y/n) adjusted her grip on her lightsaber with a sigh. "Guys! There's something..." A low growl erupted from one of the rubbish piles. "...alive in here." she finished. Han turned to her with a roll of his eyes. "That's your imagination, Space Wizard."

"No, I think (Y/n)'s right." countered Luke. He suddenly jolted in the air with a screech. "Something just moved past my leg!" (Y/n) shivered as Luke pointed to a slimy object swimming past him. "Look!" he cried. "Did you see that?!" (Y/n) gripped her saber so tightly that she thought she'd break it. Han, on the other hand, didn't seem to believe anything he was seeing. "What?!" he demanded. "I don't see it!" (Y/n) concluded that he was perhaps blind to the supernatural. Chewie let out a panicked growl and clawed at the door.

"Keep it busy so I can cut open this door!" shouted (Y/n). Her sweaty hands didn't help her cause as she held on to her saber for dear life. As each second passed with Luke, Han, and the princess screaming bloody murder, (Y/n) felt like she couldn't breathe--maybe because the walls had begun to move. Wait, move? (Y/n) spared a glance past her shoulder. "Where--where is it?"

"I think Han scared it." said Luke.

The walls creaked and wobbled eerily. (Y/n) realised it was not her imagination and that yes, the walls were going to squash them if she didn't slice open a hole to sweet safety.

(Y/n) didn't like that thought; nobody liked that thought.

They were going to die in piles of garbage on some base in the middle of who-knows-where all because (Y/n) couldn't slash through the five-inch thick durasteel door. "Come on, come on...." She stared at the half-moon she had created in the door. Almost there. Just a few seconds left.

"Can't you cut through the door faster?!" shouted Han. (Y/n) forced her lightsaber through the door with so much force that her knuckles turnt white. "I'm trying! I'm trying!"

"Don't just stand there yelling at her!" ordered Leia. "Try and brace the walls with something! We have to give her time!"

(Y/n) was sweating buckets. The walls were closing in on them and there wasn't enough time. Luke whipped out his comlink again in hopes of contacting someone, but hope seemed so far away. "I think we're going to die." whispered (Y/n).

"Don't say that!" shouted Luke. "3-PO? 3-PO! Come in! 3-PO?!"

Luke eventually gave up on contacting 3-PO and jumped over to help (Y/n) cut through the door. His warm hands over hers was a big help, but not enough.

"One thing's for sure," Han said, "we're all gonna be a lot thinner!"

(Y/n)'s lightsaber passed through the last of the durasteel, and with a firm Force push, the circle flew into the hall. (Y/n) deactivated her lightsaber. "Go, go, go!" She stood at the door as Luke, Chewie, Han, and the princess jumped through the hole. (Y/n) was the last to emerge, gasping for air that didn't smell like trash and nearly falling on her face with buckling knees. Luke and Han began removing their armour. Once Luke had finished, he sent (Y/n) a concerned look. "Are you okay? You're really pale."

(Y/n) adjusted her robes and Force-pushed the durasteel cut-out back into its place. Her knees buckled again, but before she collapsed, Luke caught her by the waist and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Thank you."

"No problem."

Leia rounded on everyone with fiery eyes. She motioned for everyone to follow her as she dusted off her dress. "I don't know who you are or where any of you came from, but from here on out, you listen to me." Everyone followed suit after her, mostly because they didn't have a choice. The princess sent Chewie a look of disgust as soon as he caught up to her. "Will someone get this walking carpet out of my way?" She brushed past him as Han and Luke exchanged glances of irritation. The latter whipped out his rod-like comm and held it to his lips.

"3-PO, do you copy?"

"Yes."

"Are you safe?"

"At the moment. We're in the main hanger across the ship." Luke nodded and said, "We're right above you, stand-by." The group paused at a large window overlooking the hanger. A large ship that could fit at least three or four Jedi starfighters stood smack in the middle of the hanger, where bright lights shone overhead as if to display the hunk of junk.

"You came in that thing?" questioned the princess. "You're braver than I thought."

She led the group down the hall and rounded a sharp corner. From the end of the hall, (Y/n) spotted a group of troopers. For some reason, at that exact time, they were incredibly perceptive, and whipped around to rain lasers down on the group.

"It's them! Blast 'em!"

(Y/n) raised a hand and Force-pushed the troopers into a hall to the left. She slammed her fist down on a control panel and shut the blast doors. Another group appeared and Han ran after them with Chewie by his side. "Get back to the ship!" he screeched. (Y/n) knitted her brows. "What about you? You both will die!" Han continued running down the hall like a raging bantha until he and Chewie were out of sight.

(Y/n) didn't know if that was brave or stupid.

Luke took Leia and (Y/n) by the arms, pulling them along the opposite direction of where Han ran. "Where are we going? Han went right, not left!" He came to a skidding stop at the edge of the hallway, where a bridge should have stood over a never ending abyss of black. Luke stumbled a bit, teetering towards the edge like a bowling ball out of control. (Y/n) seized Luke by the arm as he released the princess. With a firm pull, she hauled him back to safety. "I think we took the wrong turn." he innocently announced. (Y/n) sighed. "Ya think?"

There was a group of pounding footsteps behind, and before any could raise a single blaster, (Y/n) slammed her hand on a panel. The door slid shut with a firm click, but it didn't lock.

A frown bled onto (Y/n)'s lips. "Right." She whipped out her lightsaber and slashed at the panel until smoke and sparks flew into the air. "Now for this." She eyed the gaping abyss before her, hoping, and praying that no one would fall. It could have gone down for hundreds of yards for all she knew, so if she made any mistakes, it would be game over.

(Y/n) rubbed her hands together with a focused sigh. She closed her eyes and held out both hands.

"Watch out!" Luke was about to push (Y/n) out of the way, but she focused on the laser flying her way and deflected it back to the level above them. Although it missed the guy's head by centimetres, he wasn't so lucky because Luke and the Princess blasted the heck out of the troopers, rendering them either immobile, dead, or tumbling into the abyss below. They must have realised that they needed reinforcements, because they disappeared back the way they came.

"Princess." (Y/n) stated. She lifted her hands up as if she were moving through water, and with a gentle flick of her hands, levitated the princess to the other side. She landed safely and took cover in the threshold of the door. "Luke, you--" (Y/n) threw a hand to her head with a small yelp. A cold feeling settled into her stomach, and it reminded her so much of...

...of the Chancellor.

But this time? This time it hurt. It wasn't only a chilling, passing feel, but a pain in her very skull like a blast to her head.

"Is she okay?" shouted Leia from the other side.

Luke was saying something to (Y/n), but she couldn't hear him. There was an insistent ringing in her ears like static when her signal had been lost. She closed her eyes, and then the white and black hallways disappeared.

They morphed into a rounded room of black, where the only light giving way were the stars. A man stepped towards her that she should have recognised, but the presence just didn't sit right with her. He was clad in a black suit of sorts and had a helmet over his head. His breathing was like a child's laugh in a horror movie: unnerving, unnatural, and almost scary.

(Y/n) wanted to say she knew this man, yet she didn't. Where was the kind, loving face of Anakin Skywalker her best friend?

"So you live."

There were two hands on (Y/n)'s shoulders that sucked her out of the room and into reality. "Are you alright?" questioned Luke. "What happened? Are you hurt?" His voice was tender and sweet, but it offered (Y/n) no comfort.

"You know what? You've done enough saving for today." Luke said, throwing a hand into his stolen belt. He produced a grappling hook and threw it onto one of the beams high in the air. Luke gave the line a tug before wrapping an arm around (Y/n)'s waist. A few troopers appeared, but Luke was quick to shoot them down.

"You ready?" he kindly questioned. (Y/n) weakly held onto his shoulders as he adjusted his grip on the line. "No." Luke heaved in a deep breath before bravely kicking off the bridge. "Neither was I!" he exclaimed. Much to his relieved surprise, the two landed safely on the other side. Leia took (Y/n) by the arm and helped her over as Luke pulled out his blaster.

They continued running through the halls, and even with both Leia and Luke hanging onto (Y/n)'s limp shoulders, she had trouble keeping up. All she was to them was dead weight, yet for some reason, they kept helping her along.

The group had to maneuver past troopers, through various halls, and past the extremely annoying mouse droids sweeping past. When the group came to the entrance of the docking bay, (Y/n) almost sighed in relief. Hiding in a corner were Chewie and Han, safe from harm and prying eyes.

"What kept you up? And what happened to you?" Han motioned to (Y/n) as Luke adjusted his grip around her shoulders. "We...ran into some bucketheads." (Y/n) weakly answered.

"Is the ship okay?" questioned Luke. Han shrugged a shoulder. "Seems okay, if we can get to it. I just hope the old man got the tractor beam down." (Y/n) was about to inquire about the tractor beam, but that sharp pain returned in her head tenfold with the presence of Anakin.

But that couldn't be, she scolded herself. He was on Coruscant, one of the many core planets far away from here. Maybe he was out with a search party this very moment, or maybe he was trying to contact her through all the jammed signals. Whatever presence she felt here couldn't be Anakin's.

It just wasn't possible.

A group of troopers raced right past the group as if they didn't exist. They continued into the hanger and where (Y/n) felt the presence. Luke and the princess surveyed the area before speed-walking as fast as physically possible towards the sad excuse for a ship.

Han and Chewie kept a look-out, either one at the end of the chain or top. (Y/n) was just at the ramp of the ship before her body went rigid again. Luke must have felt something too, because he faltered and turned to look at where the troopers had gathered.

(Y/n) had never been so confused in her life. Not when Shaak started training her, not when Anakin had first taught her how to pilot, and not when her men first taught her how to make 'good' jokes.

In a hallway only a few hundred yard away stood the man from (Y/n)'s vision along with Obi-wan. No, but that couldn't be right. Obi-wan wasn't an old man, and the guy in the black suit couldn't have been Anakin. They shouldn't be here, and neither should she.

The two looked to be locked in a battle to the death, and as much as (Y/n) tried to deny it, she felt scared. It was hard being confused for a good few hours, but this? Oh, it topped the nonexistant cake with the frosting, decor, and cherry on top.

"Ben?" called Luke. The old man paused for a moment, his bright eyes meeting Luke's before meeting (Y/n)'s. She let out a sort of strangled gasp in bewilderment. That...that was Master Obi-wan Kenobi!

The guy clad in black raised his saber high above his head. Everything after that happened too quickly for (Y/n) to process. Obi-wan disappeared just as the glowing blade connected with his hood, then Luke screamed, and (Y/n) screamed louder. The princess took the lead after that, yanking (Y/n) out of harms way and leading her towards the ship as Luke shot the troops in an anguished frenzy.

Just as (Y/n) made her way up the ramp, the man in black met her gaze, and the words fell from her lips before she could stop them.

"Ani?"

PART 11

#starwarstheclonewarsxreader #star wars #star wars x reader #star wars x y/n #star wars the clone wars

8 notes · View notes

luulapants · 4 years

Text

Hale Royal Family AU - Part 5

Based on @shey-elizabeth‘s post:

”Me reading the Prince Harry-Meghan Markel royal family drama:

Wait… I think I read this fic already. (Starts scrolling through my AO3 history)

#random #royalty au #someone write me a steter fic #reading the news before coffee”

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

September 2019

“Lady Danu’s is the largest adoption service for non-human children in the state. Which, as you can see, isn’t saying much,” Dot, the facility director, explained. She made a sweeping motion with her hand to indicate the relatively petite size of the facility. It was a large estate house, but certainly not large enough to hold more than a couple dozen children at a time. “Placements, of course, can be tricky for our kind, but we place exclusively with non-human or mixed families, and we have nearly unheard of retention rates for family placement.”

As they made their way through the front hall, Peter peeked into an empty room, which looked to be some sort of study room. There was a chalkboard on one wall, bookshelves on the opposite. The tables and chairs in the middle had bits of paint and marker stains.

Peter thought about all of the obscenely expensive furniture in their home and found himself horrified almost to the point of delight at the thought of little finger paint hand prints marring the wood.

Stiles squeezed his hand as he tugged him along to keep up. “What age ranges do you have?” he asked.

“We have a couple of teenagers at the moment, brother and sister, but that’s not typical,” Dot answered. She started up the wide wooden staircase. Teenage wolves would typically stay with their packs if any remained. Either they weren’t wolves or they had lost absolutely everyone. “They’ve taken over part of the basement so they can have their own space.”

Peter found himself wanting to ask about the teenagers, see if they needed some help. Maybe he could make arrangements for them. But that wasn’t what they were here for. This was the compromise: instead of surrogacy, they could adopt, so long as it was a werewolf baby.

“Eight through twelve are on that end of the hall,” Dot said, pointing toward a large set of French doors. “Four through eight next to them. Babies and toddlers have the largest space, over here.”

Lady Danu’s was partly funded by the druid’s council, Talia had explained as she gave him the pamphlet for the facility, but the majority of their funding came directly from the royal family. Their doors would be open to Peter and Stiles. There would be no wait list, no agony of false hope. One visit, and they could walk out with a bundle of joy that would satisfy both the family and the press.

Well, she hadn’t said it like that, but she may as well have.

----

She had brought up the subject over brunch, just the two of them. Peter had known something unpleasant would come up – the last time they’d had brunch, just the two of them, had been after Stiles’s infamous leather rant.

“I heard you and Stiles have decided not to pursue surrogacy,” Talia had said over the soft scrape of her knife against porcelain. She lifted a bit of egg to her lips, staring him down while she chewed.

Peter nodded, resigned to let this argument happen. He reached for his wolfsbane mimosa, knowing he would need at least a bit of a buzz to get through. “We discussed it and decided it wasn’t for us,” he explained. “It doesn’t seem right, going to all of that trouble and expense to bring a child into the world when there are children already here, needing homes.”

“Adoption, then?”

“That’s the idea.”

She sighed, and Peter felt a vein in his temple throb in irritation.

“I don’t see why it should matter to you or anyone else,” he snapped.

Talia set her fork down and fixed him with a tired expression. “Of course it matters, Peter. Our bloodline -”

Peter barked a laugh. “Our bloodline? Dear sister, I don’t know if you’ve gotten a good look at our family tree lately, but it’s practically overgrown. I’ve lost track of how many nieces and nephews I have these days.”

“You’ll adopt a werewolf, then?” she pressed.

Then it was Peter’s turn to set down his fork, letting it slam noisily against the table. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten, but my husband is a human. We may very well adopt a human.”

“Peter,” she practically growled.

He raised his voice, couldn’t help it. “How are you talking to me like I’m being unreasonable when you’ve practically ordered me, as my alpha, to acquire a baby by any means necessary?”

Talia, stubbornly, infuriatingly, kept her voice calm, though condescending. “I know you’ve made it your personal brand to challenge tradition at every turn. And might I remind you, I have been extremely accommodating to it thus far -”

Peter flashed his eyes at her. “Oh, yes,” he shouted, “you didn’t excommunicate me from the family for marrying a man! Have they put you up for sainthood yet, Your Majesty?”

She stood abruptly, her chair clattering to the ground as her eyes flared bright red.

As he felt himself involuntarily cower in response, Peter felt his rage boil down into a quiet resentment. Talia was his alpha and his monarch, but she was supposed to be his sister first. That she would pull this sort of tactic on him stung in a way he hadn’t been prepared for. “Really?” he asked, voice softer than he wanted it to be. “Over how Stiles and I start a family? That’s what you pull rank for?”

Talia softened, her eyes fading back to human. A servant hurried in and righted her chair for her. She sat. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “It should just be about you and Stiles – I know that – but it’s not. This world we live in, our position is more tentative than it seems. Peter, our traditions are more than media grabs and money. Humans fear us, instinctively. We are predators. We are stronger than them. We’re a threat.” Her words came gently. Practiced, but honest. “By all logical strategy, they should hunt us, eradicate us, as they did for centuries.”

“Like they still do in many parts of the world,” Peter conceded.

“Exactly.” She offered a weak smile. “And do you know why they don’t, here in this country?” He did, but ducked his head, signaling for her to continue. “Because our structure of monarchy gives us an appearance of structure, of stability. It makes our kind seem integrated and like less of a threat. We let them see into every corner of our lives, poke and prod and evaluate. We show them that we have nothing to hide, and they transfer that sense of trust to every member of our species.”

Peter had received lectures of similar flavor from their parents, but they hadn’t been so brutally honest. He lifted his eyes to meet Talia’s. “And you think that the species of mine and Stiles’s child will make so much difference to that balance?”

“No,” Talia admitted. She reached for her coffee. “But a member of the royal family that challenges our traditions at every turn? That might.”

----

So he and Stiles found themselves in the babies and toddlers wing of Lady Danu’s Home for Children. A caretaker sat in a rocking chair in the corner, bottle feeding an infant. Another stood by the cribs, a baby in each arm, rocking and humming. It felt strange to Peter – no, downright bizarre – to come here and pick out a baby like one picked out a pair of shoes at a clothing store.

“I’ll leave you two to discuss for a little while,” Dot said. “I know it’s a lot to take in. I’ll be just down the hall – anyone here can come fetch me for you.”

Once she was out of the room, Stiles stepped in front of Peter with a slightly panicked expression. “I have no idea how to do this,” he whispered.

“Do I look like I know?”

“Are we just supposed to… pick one? It feels weird.”

One of the caretakers glanced up at them, clearly listening in, and Peter huffed a sigh, glancing around the room. “Let’s just… try to settle in for a few minutes?”

This wing of the home was rather large. They had come into the section for the youngest babies. Another set of doors lead through to a play room for the toddlers where a handful of drooling, chubby little were-tots sat around a kitchen play set, gnawing at plastic fake fruit and miming cooking with a sauce pan.

Peter wandered over to them, giving a wave. One little boy stared up at him with wide eyes, most of his own fist crammed into his mouth. It was refreshing, at least, to not be greeted with a bow.

He glanced around to see where Stiles had ended up and found him sitting on a play mat where an older girl with poorly brushed hair sat with a baby girl, maybe a year old, propped up on a pillow. The older one wore overalls and had a toy dinosaur in her hand. “Who?” she asked Stiles, a bit rudely.

“I’m Stiles. Is it okay if I sit with you?” Stiles had already sat down, but seemed to be second-guessing it under the girl’s intense scrutiny. When she didn’t answer, Stiles asked, “What’s your name?”

She turned back to the baby, ignoring Stiles. “So T-Rex can eat this guy,” she explained to the baby, holding up a smaller dinosaur toy, “but dog is too big.” Peter’s eyes settled on a big stuffed dog next to her and smiled.

“That’s Malia.”

Peter jumped a little, not having noticed the caretaker coming up behind him. He turned and smiled at her. “Isn’t she a little old to be in here?”

“She’s five,” the woman agreed, “but she’s been having some trouble fitting in with the kids in her age group. She’s great with the babies, though.”

“Rawr! I am hungry!” Malia said, rocking the T-Rex back and forth.

Stiles stretched and grabbed another toy off the floor and offered it up. “Can he eat this?”

Malia stared at him suspiciously for a moment, then broke into a bright smile. “Yeah!” She snatched the toy out of his hand and fed it to the tyrannosaurus with delighted violence.

Laughing softly, Peter watched as she slowly accepted Stiles into her game. “How long has she been here?”

“A couple of months.” The caretaker hesitated. “She’s not a wolf,” she told him. “She’s a were-coyote. There were some… safety concerns. With the mother. She was removed from her custody.”

The mother-child dynamic for coyotes was a troubled one, Peter knew. Their powers were passed down during pregnancy. He frowned. “Thank you for explaining,” he said. “What’s your name?”

“Tracy. And I know who you are, of course.”

Peter ducked his head and smiled. “Of course.”

He made his way over to Stiles, watching the way his face lit up as Malia’s game devolved into a toy massacre. The baby seemed just as fascinated with her, taking toys as Malia handed them to her, then sucking on them.

Talia would think this was just more of his defiance, more of his stubborn desire to fight tradition. But maybe this could be a compromise on a compromise. Not a baby, no, but young enough. Not a werewolf, no, but not human.

Peter crouched besides Stiles and nudged his shoulder. “What do you think?”

Stiles glanced over at him and raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Really?” He glanced at Malia, then back to Peter. “She’s not...” Not a baby, he meant. He didn’t even know about her being a were-coyote.

“I don’t care,” Peter assured him.

Stiles reached over and brushed his fingers against the nape of Peter’s neck, scenting him. He bit his lip, then turned back to the Malia. “This is my husband Peter,” he told her. “Can he play, too?”

Peter waved at her. “Hi, Malia.”

Malia sniffed at him very obviously, her little nose scrunching as she did so. “You have to bring a food for T-Rex,” she told him, her brow furrowing and eyes flashing blue. He knew already that she would be an absolute terror. Forget finger paint on the nice furniture – she would rip it to shreds.

“Fair enough,” he agreed.

----

In one of her less thoughtful attempts at reassuring Peter and Stiles about fatherhood, Laura had told them, “You know, a lot of what people talk about when they talk about being ‘ready’ for parenthood, it just doesn’t apply in our world.”

They had been playing bocce in Laura’s garden, Marco lining up his bowl.

Stiles huffed a laugh. “Why, because we don’t have a choice?”

“No, you absolutely have a choice,” Laura said, and Peter had wondered if she really believed it. “But a lot of the things new parents struggle with – the late nights, the feedings, the expense – we don’t have to worry about that. You would have a wet nurse and a couple of nannies. You already have staff for meals and laundry.”

Peter knew she didn’t mean it to sound as callous as she did. As much as she had inherited her mother’s leadership skills, her poise and ferocity, she had inherited that emotionally tone-deaf streak as well.

Stiles had watched Marco bowl his shot and shoved his hands in his pockets. “That doesn’t sound much like parenting to me,” he had admitted.

A few short months later found Stiles in their daughter’s room, calling for their morning nanny, yelling, “Oh my god, where is Hayden?” while Malia wailed like an air raid siren, shrill and with a truly spectacular lung span.

Peter rushed down the hall to find Stiles kneeling in front of their daughter, frantically trying to extricate a hair brush from the back of her head while she writhed and screamed.

“Malia, please hold still!” he pleaded. “Pulling is just going to make it hurt more!”

“HURTS!” she shrieked.

“I know, I know, I just -”

“We gave Hayden the day off, remember?” Peter knelt down on the other side of Malia. He reached for her and, though she flinched back at first, managed to press his fingers to her cheek. One tiny, barely-there tendril of black crept up his fingertip. “Now, Malia, that barely hurts at all,” Peter chided. “What are you throwing a fuss about?”

She sobbed loudly and thrashed away from them both. Stiles finally gave up and let go, letting her run away with the hairbrush dangling from the back of her head. Malia threw herself onto her bed to sob into her arms like a distressed Jane Austin heroin.

Stiles held his hands out helplessly, looking to Peter for confirmation that, yes, this was the most absurd show of melodrama this house had ever seen. It was saying something, seeing as Stiles lived there.

They both got up and approached the bed. Peter sat on the edge, not reaching for her just yet, since she was still heaving angry sobs against her comforter. “Malia, sweetheart,” he cooed. “You’ve gotten yourself all worked up. Can you take some deep breaths for me?”

It took a moment, but she sucked in one long, shuddering breath. Peter smiled and reached over to rub a hand over her back. Instead of settling, though, she fucking growled at him.

“Malia,” Stiles started to chide, because they had talked about the growling.

But then her whole body started to tremble uncontrollably. In a blink, Peter found a coyote pup curled up on the bed where his daughter had been, her dress pooled around her. The hairbrush, liberated for lack of hair, fell off to the side.

Peter looked up at Stiles and smirked, shaking his head. She did have quite the flair for the dramatic. “That bad, hm?” he asked, teasing a little.

She growled again.

They were supposed to take her to Talia’s today. His sister had come over to meet Malia a few days after she moved in, but the poor girl had still been reeling from the change, too shy, and they let her retreat up to her room to play before more than a few minutes had passed.

Today, she would finally be meeting the rest of the family.

Peter slid down the zip on the back of the dress, and Malia immediately began to wriggle free of it. Her little dress shoes had dropped to the floor at the edge of the bed. He had to help tug her hind legs free of the tights, though. “Alright, come on, then,” he said, scooping her up off the bed. She growled again and he pressed a finger to the top of her nose. “None of that, now.”

Her eyes shone blue at him, but she settled. Peter passed her off to Stiles, who carefully folded her tail down to hold her against his chest with her front paws curled over his shoulder. “You know, you’re much more snuggly like this,” Stiles commented. “We’ll just have to work on human cuddles, okay?”

“What are the chances we convince her to shift back before we have to leave?” Peter asked doubtfully.

Stiles shook his head. “Hey, if anyone can appreciate a full shift, it’s Talia, right?”

----

“Princess Malia Bit The Queen!”

Peter pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. The tablet was balanced on his knees. Beneath the headline, a photo of Malia waving at the camera. Beside it, a stock photo of a coyote. A real coyote. An animal.

“Who leaked this?” he growled.

Stiles shifted closer to him on the bed, nudging their shoulders together. “Come on, Peter. She’s five – who’s actually going to care? It’s a little funny, isn’t it?”

“It’s not,” Peter gritted out. His mind flashed back to the talk Talia had given him before they went to the children’s home, about the games of public perception they were playing. He sighed and looked over at Stiles. “Malia’s species is nearly extinct outside of Mexico, and they’re still hunted like animals in parts of Mexico. Most humans in the US and Canada have never met a were-coyote.” He tapped the screen. “This is the impression they’ll form of them. That they’re wild, violent, dangerous. Uncivilized. They’ll take this one little girl, and they’ll extrapolate it to every were-coyote. Or they’ll say that clearly she was abused – that were-coyotes must be unfit parents.”

Horror overtook Stiles’s expression, his eyes moving back to the article as if seeing it for the first time. “Fuck. They can’t – she’s a little kid. They can’t put that on her.”

“They will.” Peter rubbed at the back of his neck. He felt wrung-out. It was only ten o’clock. He and Stiles had been getting to bed earlier, so they would have time to start their day before Malia woke up. “God, what were we thinking?” he muttered.

Stiles slipped his hand up the back of Peter’s neck, fingers sliding through the curls on the back of his head to scratch his scalp. “We had no way of knowing it would get leaked,” he reassured. “It happened in Talia’s house, for god’s sake.”

“Not that,” Peter sighed, leaning into the touch. “I mean, what were we thinking, bringing a child into this life at all?”

The scratches stopped. “Peter,” Stiles breathed. “You’re not saying...”

Oh, god. Peter pulled away so he could look Stiles in the eye, wanting to be very clear on this. “No,” he said firmly. “No, of course not. I wouldn’t even think about...” He couldn’t say it, couldn’t say, returning her, like Malia was an ill-fitting jacket and not their family.

“Okay, good,” Stiles said, still looking panicked by the idea.

“But I still wonder,” Peter explained, “what gave us the right, you know? To put her in all of this mess? She never asked for any of this. She never asked to grow up endlessly scrutinized by these vultures.”

Stiles’s expression softened. He reached out and cupped Peter’s cheek. “Neither did you.”

“It’s different,” Peter insisted.

“Why, because you’re Hale blood?” Stiles challenged, though his tone stayed gentle. “Because you’re over it? You’re clearly not.”

His husband’s ability to call him on his bullshit was one of the reasons Peter had fallen in love with him. It was also deeply, deeply annoying. “I just...” He closed his eyes, trying to get his anxieties into some form coherent enough to be voiced. He settled on: “I don’t want her to grow up resenting me for bringing her into this world.”

“Don’t you mean ‘resenting us’?” Stiles cocked his head to the side.

“I brought you into it, too.”

Stiles glared at him. “Peter Hale,” he scolded.

“I know, I know, you chose this,” Peter agreed.

“And, again, I’m the only one in this household that did,” Stiles reminded him. With a sigh, Stiles caught him around the shoulders and reeled him in until Peter was snuggled against his side, head on Stiles’s shoulder. He was quiet a moment before he asked, “Did you resent your parents?”

Peter didn’t talk much about them, and Stiles respected that, understood that Peter had never felt close with them, that they hadn’t been warm people. The press brought them up sometimes, usually around the anniversary of the accident. A helicopter crash in the Rockies. Conspiracy theories had flown about for months, most insisting that militant anti-were hunters had shot the helicopter down. When they finally found the black box, it revealed nothing but a simple engine malfunction.

Peter had been just shy of his thirteenth birthday. He remembered how numb he felt, walking down the street in the funeral procession with a stiff expression as the public wailed in mourning around him. He remembered thinking that these people, these strangers, had been allowed more emotional closeness with his parents than he had. They had owned his parents in a way Peter had never been allowed.

“I did,” Peter admitted quietly. “Sometimes I think I still do.”

Stiles pressed two fingers under his chin to tip his head up, and kissed his lips, soft. “We’ll protect her, okay?” he said. “Whatever it takes. We’ll make sure it isn’t so bad for her.”

Letting out a breath, Peter leaned up and kissed him again, then again until he was pressed flat on his back on the bed. Hovering over him, Peter took in the soft flush on Stiles’s cheeks, the sweet adoration in his eyes, the gentle curve of his mouth. “I love you,” he murmured. “More than I can ever say.”

#hale royal family au #royals au #tumblr fic #Steter #stiles stilinski #Peter Hale #talia hale #malia hale #teen wolf #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf au #part 5 of 6 #because I have no self control #I wrote this really fast because BABY MALIA #the angstiest lil coyote

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