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orangez3st · 1 month ago

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How Do You Explain Unsolved Murders by Plasma Bolt?!

Clone Commando Sev × GN!Reader

Season: Autumn - Clone × Reader Prompt-a-thon ✧ @cloneficgiftexchange

✧ Prompt: Monster!Clone

✧ Summary: You always get away from the mysterious deaths of the people who bully you, only because of this dead dude from another galaxy who names himself Sev acting as your avenging angel, if that even exists.

✧ Tags & Warnings: set on our planet earth in the year of our lord, bullying and the classic neglect of some people with position, curse words, mentioned suicide attempt, implied attempt of rape, Sev murders people and is enjoying it.

✧ Word Count: 5.3k

✧ A/N: Heyo and welcome to my first ghost!clone AU 👻 and yeah uh that basically means this is a Sev Dies AU. This may not be my best writing for now, but I really do hope you guys enjoy it still 🫶🏼 thanks for being here, and have a good one!

Masterlist | Read on AO3 | Sev (in-header image)

divider by me -> Delta Squad helmet PNG's by @/stars-n-spice

“You want me to drive you back?”

“No that's fine, I got it,” you refuse to the detective as he walks you along one of the corridors of the police station. You shrug. “I'll just Uber myself out of here.”

He studies you for a moment, a little hesitant at your decision. You kinda don't remember his name—maybe it's Jarrick or something, a thirty something year old man of lanky build with a faint cigarette smell coming from his jacket and a solid, grounding tone of voice.

“Okay,” he says, “Let me fetch your things back from evidence.”

“Okay.”

The detective leaves you in the middle of a bustling office workroom that smells heavily like coffee, exhaustion, and neverending paperwork. Around you are officers and detectives alike shuffling through case files, pens scribbling down details, and parental figures breaking down crying upon learning their loved ones are either incarcerated and charged or murdered.

You're having one of those.

Not willing to stand around and disrupt people's pace working their way through crimes, you shuffle your feet towards an empty couch near the door and sit down, the leaves of some real and typical strangely well-cared office plant brushing against your arm. You sigh deeply, planning. Maybe not going home yet. Some burritos to reward yourself after going through a hassle of a criminal investigation that you certainly didn't do, but always finding yourself in it.

“Hey.” The detective walks toward you in long strides, your backpack in one hand and your phone still inside the evidence zip bag. “Here's your stuff, all cleared. If you could sign this one first, here…”

You nod sort of exhaustedly, going through the supposedly last errand quickly and not really bothering to read the last half of the clearance document. He presents you the bag, unzipped, the content free for you to take.

“Thank you,” he says, slipping the clipboard underneath his arm and fishing a business card out of his pocket. With a tight smile, perhaps out of sympathy, he offers it to you. “If something else turns up, or if you need any help at all, you can call me. Okay?”

Det. William Jarrick

Oh, that's indeed his name after all. You take a few seconds to absorb the police logo, your city and state, and his official phone number. He's new, you heard, taking over the case—the previous one apparently is in jail for DUI.

“Understood,” you say, carefully pocketing the card. Jarrick opens the door for you, and you don't look back to the office. “See ya, Detective.”

He waves you goodbye. “Don’t get yourself into trouble again, kiddo.”

With a deep breath, you happily march out of the police station, willing to put it all behind you. There's nothing more stressful than a busy police station, even though you did absolutely nothing wrong. It's the walls, painted muted dark blue, and just… crowded spaces and coffee machine underneath a low lighting of the cabinet and paperwork scattered all over those desks.

The day is particularly chilly today. It's fall. Northern hemisphere autumn is never boring, you always like the cool air and warm color palette slapped across any surface either man-made or natural—trees, shop decorations, unraked leaves, shawls and jackets, thematic discount labels, video thumbnails.

“How's the new guy?”

If you hadn't known Sev and his tendency to quite literally pop up next to you with his oh-so-intimidating phone-scammer deep voice for the last six months, you'd jump and shriek at his sudden presence.

“He's okay,” you sigh, lowering your voice under your breath and digging for your handsfree in your bag. “Less annoying, more understanding. He's younger. Younger than the old frog who can't tell the difference between talking in a closed space and standing by a running jet engine.”

He snorts. “Where'd he go?”

You stick the device in your ear, running on a pretense that you're on a call whereas you're actually talking to a ghost that no one else can see but you.

“Jail, can you believe it? DUI.” You stretch your arms with a weary yawn before walking off the threshold and the entire vicinity, your pack now secured behind you on your back. “Wait, you've got DUI in your homeworld, right?”

He shrugs. “DUI, public indecency, vandalism, auto theft. You name it, Buggy.”

Buggy. Only Sev calls you that because you refused to tell you his name during your first run-ins with each other. You were too busy screaming and muttering incoherent prayers to the top manager of your belief system, or whatever gods above.

Sev follows you along the pavement, sparse of people, his translucent bluish white form floating above the ground, although he’s practically marching. There isn't any hesitation in his steps as he bears a soldier's stance. Intimidating. How could he not, with all that bulky armor set on him? He dwarfs you easily, and he finds it hilarious that he knows you're feeling kind of safe that he's unable to tackle you. Not that he'd want to. Not without reason, anyway.

“So where are we headed?” he asks from behind you.

“Stress-eating,” you say, laughing awkwardly to yourself. To calm your post-police interview jitters, more like. “I was in that stuffy room for like, two hours.”

“One and a half,” Sev corrects.

“Right.”

“You ain't scared that they'd find you suspicious ‘cause you're walking instead of taking a cab like what you told the new case detective?”

“So you were listening all along,” you muse, ducking into your usual small dine-in burrito place. You exclaim your usuals to the cashier and slide into one of the shabby booths. “To answer your question, it's not their business.”

“Could be,” Sev says, his ghostly (heh) form already slipping into the seat opposite you. His pack is already disengaged. “If there's another murder.”

“You wouldn't.”

“What?”

“Doing another murder.”

“Don't know what you're talking about.”

“Sev,” you groan, “I don't want you to—” you cut yourself off, remembering you're practically in public space. You sigh. “Don't slot anyone again.”

Sev smirks behind his helmet. It's a vocabulary he taught you. “They're bullying the kriff out of you.”

“Ever, Sev.”

“Can’t stand aside and let you be trampled like that. Like you're a useless piece of shit. You're bright. And you're still a person, Buggy.”

“You’re putting dead bodies in my name and making me the prime suspect every time!” you whisper-shout.

“Person of interest,” he corrects you.

You slowly close your eyes.

Sev looks at you. His sniper rifle is leaning casually against the back of his seat. “Can't do much while being a ghost of a soldier with unfinished business, doncha think?”

Before you can retort, your order is slid to the table in front of you, all warm and spicy and invoking the monsters in the depths of your belly. Spicy chicken burrito, ranch and extra pico de gallo, crisps, and cookies ‘n cream milkshake.

“Rough day?” the server, Caleb, asks you.

You blink. “Huh?”

He taps his ear, referring to your handsfree and how you've been talking excessively. “Another murder that frames you or is that your Slovakian ex girlfriend?”

You let out a dry laugh, your fingers toying with the still-warm crisps. “I don't have a Slovakian ex girlfriend.”

“Boyfriend?”

You kick at his feet. Lucky bastard swerves away cackling. “Shut up, Caleb!”

“Yeah yeah anyway,” he chuckles, his gaze clearly holding some genuine sympathy at you, “Hope you get through it and catch the guy. Mustn't be easy for you.”

“Heard that before,” you mutter, glancing down at your lap before smiling at him anyway. “Thanks, Caleb.”

Caleb offers you a smile and a shoulder pat before sauntering someplace else.

Sev scoffs at your meal as you start to dig in. “Scorch would huff that down.”

You slurp on your shake. “Y'all can handle spice?”

“Loved it, even,” he says fondly, which is a strange sight to you still even though you've known each other for roughly six months. “He handled it better than I do.”

It's sensible to talk about people in past tense when you don't know if they're still alive or not. For Sev, he's lost them anyway. He died. In his past life, in some place called Kashyyyk.

Or in another universe or something, because there were no known previous civilizations on Earth rocking the apparatus that he carries with him.

And he just happened to… land into your life as a ghost tied to you. Wherever you go, he follows. It had been hard to live with that, especially when you couldn't handle his dark gloomy jokes some time in the beginning of your acquaintanceship. Friendship. It's easier now. You're considering him a friend. You're stuck with each other, after all.

“Do you think you really have unfinished business?” you suddenly ask.

Sev blinks hard underneath his helmet to digest your question and, ah, it's poking his private compartment again. Why he's here, how he came here—does it matter? He's stuck as a ghost without so much as a memory about the manuals if they even gave him one somewhere in the limbo.

You continue studying him, placing down your ronto roll ripoff and absentmindedly poking at your crisps. “Like a mission? To complete?”

“Does it matter?” It's not usual for him to defy a question from someone other than a clone.

“It might,” you shrug, mid-chew. Sev is used to it. “We should… find out why you're sent here, right?”

“I lived in a different galaxy than yours, Buggy. Why I'm here is up to whoever's in charge of both yours and mine.”

You scrutinize him. Like, actually putting him under an interrogative pressure. You seem not to care about other people in the tiny diner looking. “You don't wanna find out why? Ever?”

There's something else he hides. Something about ‘unfinished business’? It does feel like that. He's a soldier. A hunter. An accomplisher. Those traits drive him to his goals with utter ambition and, sometimes, sadistic hunger. Hunger to get the job done. Hunger to anticipate what comes next after that job is done. He chases after these things. It satisfies him—the success, the crudeness, the raw elements he gets himself high on.

Then he died and he met you. Poor, unsuspecting and unlikely scrawny kid who's doing whatever they can to sustain their ranks in school. Apparently being too ambitious achieving a goal is a crime because it invites envy and jealousy of others. Now that, he can't comprehend. You're only doing your job, you want the best for yourself.

But your classmates attack you. Calling you names, banging at the locker next to yours just to startle the shit out of you, the cold shoulders, the belittling stares. Your teachers don't feel like intervening. You're used to it, but you're tired. Your utter surrender attracted him somehow, that when you actually really attempted to test how good your belt is using the railings on the second floor of your mother's house, the downstairs phone rang.

It was the news of the sudden death of a student in your school. Bertrand Wilson. He was the one who banged the locker every damn day. “We thought you should know,” your principal had said, before ending the line.

Three days later, Jackie Lombardini. She called you names. Next week; Kellan Peterson. He pushed you into a lake once. That Friday, Melinda Brewster—dunked your head in the toilet. The same day, Lucas Martinez—emptying your locker and setting the contents on fire in the dumpster. The next day; Naomi and Hans Grant, twins. They literally continuously threatened to kill you just because you caught them in the act in the lab after hours.

Everything was a mystery. No one knows what hit them. Cameras never caught the perp; no vehicles, no mysterious figure walking by. No blood. Just bodies dropping to the ground with a scorching hole in the middle of their forehead, smoke rising above it. Everything connects to one thing; you. Motive? Vengeance.

But that's the problem. The police can't place you in any of the crime scenes. It's a variety of places you'd never have the intention to go to—bars, shabby diners, rooftops, dingy hotel rooms, biker lot, or hell, their own house. Your alibis checked out—always. It's fortunate that the local police are immune to local media pressure—they stay on the lane. You're always cleared. You always walk away fine, undamaged, and perhaps, albeit a little guiltily…

Satisfied.

They deserve it.

Sev literally grinned down at you—behind his bucket, of course—when he first manifested in front of you. After every phone call, because the killings are always consistent. After hours. Evening. PM. You stopped testing the belt. You chilled out in your room and you were screaming to death while Sev came forward for the first time and asked you things.

“How do you do?”

“Did you like it?”

“What do you think?”

“I wish I could give them the old shank in the kidney like I did to those ugly lizards, but my Deece is all I've got. And I'm an excellent shot.”

“Taken care of.”

“Don’t have to worry about them anymore, Buggy.”

“I've got you, don't worry. I've got ‘em, too. Went out with a pew.”

It takes some time for you to adjust. Sometimes you're wondering if you still have the right to be called ‘victim’. They bullied you, after all. They bullied you first. They started it.

They deserve it. Sev finishes them. Lessons exhibited to everyone in your school. The aftermath? No friends at all, having absolutely nobody to talk to, and a new sick urban legend circulating around mentioning your name seeking refuge to the devil. What bullshit. Except if they want to call a living dead bloodthirsty psycho sniper from another galaxy the devil. Picking victims and taking them out in your name. It's fitting and eerily beautiful at the same time. At least that's what Sev thinks about.

Sev sighs. “Don't need to find out why,” he says gruffly.

You stare at him. “Um… why?”

He tilts his helmet back at you. “I know why I'm here.”

It's to hunt them down. Those who hurt you. He can feel it in his incorporeal body. Every time he lays on his belly on the next building over with a nice vantage point, every time pulls that trigger, every time he watches the body drop. He's never hesitant with his shots, he's always confident. All that, put into a shaker and poured into a fine, cold cocktail glass for him to enjoy.

You play with your straw as you lower your voice, “It's to kill them, isn't it?”

“I got off on it,” Sev admits shamelessly—but not, at all, in a sexual sense. “And it feels like the right thing to do.”

The corner of your lips twitch. Maybe you're just as sick as him, handling that much pressure and suddenly that pressure is ripped away from you without resolve nor closure. “So,” you muse, “Acting as my guardian angel who brutally kills people?”

“Don't see me doing anything else, do you?”

You look down somewhat guiltily. “I never saw you.”

Sev tears his focus away from you and stares into the plain fucking wall. He won't let himself be seen as soft, at least not now, although it's too late. Something is provoking the guess what I actually fucking care bone inside him. You're being vulnerable, so he can't be, too. At least one of you has to look alive.

“It’s for the best,” he says eventually, “You wouldn't like it—”

“Well, look who it is! My sweet darling baby!”

You’ve never turned around so fast. After one and a half hour being interviewed by a detective who's genuinely trying to help your tired hardass, that voice turns this day boring to plain shitty—a familiar assface with a Canadian accent bursting through the door with his sickening grin and, can you fucking believe it, blond pompadour hair.

“Who the kriff is this?” Sev asks aloud, his hand steadying on his rifle.

“Raph?” you gape, ignoring him, “The hell you doing here?”

Sev watches this Raph dude interrupting his intense conversation and sauntering toward your table with a happy skip in his step with a smile that even Scorch would've slapped away. “Flew over for you.”

You shake your head and let out a dry laugh “Don’t be an asshole, Raphael. Seriously, what are you doing here?”

Raph looks at you offended. “Me? The asshole?” he snorts. He makes a shoo gesture at you and forcefully wedges himself into the booth before smiling his smackable smile again at you. Sev actually considers to punch him across the face—doesn’t matter if his fist and knuckle blade goes through. “Don't be silly, baby darling. You broke us up first.”

You stare at him, scooting to the other side until your back meets the wall. “Because reasons.”

“Aw, you couldn't handle me,” he teases.

“Understatement,” you mutter under your breath, throwing a glance at Sev with a sigh. “Raph, we already broke up. There's absolutely no reason for you to fly over and— and babying me!”

“Right, right, but I can look after you while still being friends, can't I?”

“I don't have friends,” you state firmly. Sev gives you a thumbs-up. You bite your lip to stifle a smile.

“Well, but I want to.” This chakaar actually… seems genuine. Sev relaxes. A bit. The boy sighs in resignation seeing your unconvinced expression. “Okay, you want honesty? I'm in town ‘cause my dad's having a board meeting with your city council. Told him I'm gonna drive around town and, well.” He gestures to you with a flashy smile. “See how you're holding up.”

Sev watches your expression carefully with his arms crossing his chest. It's been a hard month with all the murders around you, and he's not feeling sorry for even one. They deserve it. He can't explain it in words, but his intuition has helped him survive many times by identifying two-faced sha’buire before.

“Yeah, I don't know,” you shrug mindlessly, “This mysterious sniper guy is gonna get the second wave of FBI hounding on my back and that'll be bad for me.”

Raph seems taken aback. “Whoa. Second wave?”

“Yeah. They sent profilers, but they found nothing on the crime scenes—all six of them. Pulled out and been working on it remotely ever since so far. Or at least that's what I hear from the detectives.”

“Right, right,” Raph nods thoughtfully, seemingly taking it all in seriousness. “Want me to hire PI for you?”

You scoff. “Raph. The victim's parents literally unionized to hire a band of private investigators to look into me.”

“Are you serious? You don't seem scared.”

“I've got nothing to hide.”

Sev catches one look too long in the far corner of the diner. He perks up, and that slight gesture from him renders your attention at Raph crumbling for a moment. “One in that corner,” he informs you. Your head swivels following his direction.

“What?” Raph asks.

You roll your eyes. “Speak of the devil. One that's hoping I'm gonna buy that… I don't know, librarian persona.”

“Oh yeah,” Raph muses, nodding as if awed he's got to see a real PI for once. “Doesn't that bother you? I can make a call to ask one of my dad's counselor team—”

“Raph, stop,” you shake your head, “I appreciate it, but I don't need your help.”

“Time to go, Buggy.” Sev stands up. Awkward situation that normally could escalate into a varping shootout like this is something he always runs away from first thing, even in the Before where Fixer usually shouted after him, and he intends to drill this when to walk away lesson into you. He grabs his rifle readily, appearing as the cold and deadly sniper he is as if ready to put a nonchalant bolt through Raph's head right there and then. “I'm saving your shebs from this dumbass.”

You release a loud sigh as you begin to wrap the burrito with its own tin foil and shove the last of your crisps into your mouth quite unceremoniously that makes Raph blink in absolutely not amusement. Maybe disgust. Good. You've got enough eyes on you, you certainly don't need your ex boyfriend to poke around, too.

“Want me to drive you?” Raph tries again.

You stall by slurping your milkshake clean, noisily. “I got it, Raph.” You plot your escape, rather quickly, to the front door where Sev is already waiting for you, rifle raised as if Raph could see him then the kid should be scared.

Raph follows you outside, his steps are more hasty rather than concerned. You groan your frustrations, turning to give him a piece of your mind until he cuts you off.

“Hey, hey. Please. I really am concerned. What if they’ve been targeting you?”

“Targeting me?” “I've been bullied for most of high school for having top marks, Raph! If they were targeting me, why would they kill people around me who've been causing me pain and made me nearly hang myself in my own house?!”

“Maybe jealousy?” Of course he doesn't care about your suicide bit. “They're trying to intimidate you by killing people around you.”

You watch in silence as Sev comes up next to Raph, out on the sidewalk and under the autumn late afternoon sun. The commando you've known as a friend seizes your ex—panting and practically begging you to understand and to be on his page—up close and personal with a predator's prowess. His grip on his rifle may seem relaxed, but you know the finger on the trigger guard is itchy to press.

Sev looks at you. “Want me to shut his hole?”

“No!”

Raph looks at you in disbelief, unaware of your slip-up. “Are you serious?”

“Yes I'm serious!” You gain your focus back but already forget what he brought up. Sev nods grimly and steps back.

“Copy that.”

“Look, I care about you, okay?” Raph says, “Watching the news and your name popped up on screen, it's only just last week that it's now up by seven victims. Seven. I was always wondering if you're okay ‘cause these are people you know, people you went to class with, but what if they get to you finally—”

“Raph.” You pinch the bridge of your nose, and then level your gaze with him, giving in with what you hope is genuine plea. “I don't need your help.”

You turn around again, but Raph grabs your arm. “I get that,” he says, sighing. “Let me drive you home? Then I won't bother you again.”

“Promise?”

“You won't see my face again and you won't even know I'm leaving town.”

And that's how you find yourself in the passenger seat of Raph's car.

It smells rental and you try to focus on it instead of your ex’s presence just a mere feet away. Raph wasn't good to you—his dad being a member of Canadian parliament, all he cares about is himself. You were just an object of his love bombing for five months and you're still trying to pretend to ignore that at least a quarter of your belongings were his gifts to you.

So. Him being concerned about his ex partner who becomes a person of interest in their bullies’ strange murders? Even stranger.

Raph insists on a scenic route. Says he hadn't been here long before moving back to Canada—all those five months here were spent wooing you and bombing the lovesick person out of you, both with love and his pompous bullshit.

And now you’re letting him initiate conversations with you again. You let him steer the topic, because you're too tired to think of one, much less speaking about one to your ex. Sev is watching you and the interaction from the backseat, his quietness isn't unusual.

He can sense something's wrong. He’s certain you’ve noticed too, but what could you do in a moving vehicle, if not launching yourself out the door out of paranoia without injuring yourself? Call it his intuition. Out of his brothers, his intuition never went wrong. It’s his patience and attentiveness when he's locking in.

So when the chakaar pulls up in the seediest corner of a gas station after fueling up, all this poorly executed bullshit ends now.

The temperature surrounding his incorporeal body freefalls. Always, every time, when his trigger discipline can no longer be contained. It makes his head feel hot and crowded with utter focus, his attention fully locking into his new goal—his target.

The search for vantage point? He lets his body do it. Methodical, careful, as if someone ran the program inside his head to do just so, because he's used to moving so discreetly without risking being seen. Even a ghost now—he can't erase that away. He can't be careless, still. It's who he is. Remove that, and he'll be just a shell of RC-1207 who loses his kick.

He's found a tree, but he doesn't climb, so he covers himself behind the gigantic trunk. He wants to see the bolt penetration. He wants to watch his target's head loll sideways as it claims their life that's been spent on stooping so low belittling other human beings. He wants the thrill. He wants to smell burnt tibanna. He wants to smell the death.

Sev raises his rifle and aims. It's already dark outside, and he's surprised why you didn't choose to go on a screaming match with your ex already to demand to be taken home. Raph drives around, errands here and errands there, even taking his time on grocery shopping and delivering packages. He's already been waiting for the cover of darkness so he could lock the doors and turn off the lights in his car…

And pounce on you.

Once the moving shadows inside the car begin to show signs of resistance and oppression, he wastes no time.

He pulls the trigger.

The boom resonating out of his sniper attachment is followed by the sound of glass breaking. The bolt went through the car's rear window, the seat, and…

The head loll. And not a second later, the entire body, dead, flopping heavily onto you. Dead.

You scream.

You've obviously thought of being present in a crime scene. But you’ve never found yourself in it since it's probably for the best and yet; here you are.

It's just like what they say and what they show to you in pictures. No blood. Scorched bullet hole. Smell of foreign gas flooding your nostrils. Dead body. It's also what they don't show you that's overwhelming your senses. You think dead bodies are cold, but you have no idea they'd still be warm. Or maybe, deep down you knew but it's all happening so fast. Freshly dead bodies are still so warm that it makes you want to believe Raph is possibly still alive.

You push his body away from you. Raph’s dead weight slams against his side of the door with a loud thunk.

“Buggy! Hey!”

Sev is on the other side of your window, wishing on everything he could've done including rapping his knuckle plate against the window and hauling you out of there as fast as he could to get you to safety.

“Let's go. We should go.”

And then the fog clears. It's like you're waking up from a nightmare.

“Sev,” you breathe, finding consolation in the presence of his illuminating bluish white form before unlocking the door manually with shaky fingers. Sev arms go through your body in an attempt to catch you as you stumble out. You hit the asphalt and grass followed by Sev's frustrated grunt.

“Buggy,” he calls you, even crouching to meet your level, “Get up. You okay?”

Your sight blurs—it’s your tears pooling in your eyes, and you don't even realize you've been crying. Sev’s translucent rifle, the one he just shot Raph with, lays on the ground next to him. You're expecting to be eye to eye with Sev’s gruesomely painted helmet but the face behind it greets you instead, and it does seem like your questions about the color of his eyes and what kind of scars marring his face would remain unanswered. The frown between his eyebrows and concern reflecting in his gaze bring you into a shared space of vulnerability.

Your breath hitches.

“Sev…”

“You’re alright,” he soothes, voice softer than you've ever heard of him. Sev raises his hand to your head to push some of your hair away but pauses midair, again forgetting his current state. Glancing away in embarrassment, he turns back to you with sudden encouragement. “Come on. We gotta get moving.”

“My bag,” you manage to say, your voice barely a whisper as you try your best to get up even on your jelly-like limbs.

Sev nudges his head. “Go. We'll get out of here.”

You get on your feet with hardship and turn, and you're looking at the nightmare again.

Raph had suddenly become violent when you rejected his advances and landed a solid smack to your cheek. Not three seconds later, he flopped dead against you by Sev’s protective headshot.

“He—” you swallow thickly, “He tried to rape me—”

“What matters now is that you're safe, ad'ika,” Sev affirms behind you, his voice filtering through his helmet again. “He won't bother you anymore, that's what I know.”

It burns. The pain in your cheek has numbed but it still burns. You touch the reddened spot with the tip of your fingers and immediately cringe away—it’ll always be a reminder of a tragedy.

And your mistake.

You're here when he's murdered. You're present at the crime scene, your DNA is all over the place. Within a second, you feel like the best you could do right now is crying again and screaming as loud as you can.

“Buggy,” Sev urges you again.

“I'll never be safe, will I?” Your voice strains as you turn around, your tears hot in your eyes. “As long as this town hates me, I'll never be safe, and you'll never stop.”

“If that's what it takes.”

You know you're supposed to be taken aback by his words—Sev’s sole intention and belief that he should protect you, a vulnerable soul, at all costs. His calling, he called it. But you're not. Your shock has escaped you and you are so used to letting yourself be ushered under Sev’s protective wings that you no longer question his merciless actions. It scares you, your sanity—it scares the little sympathy that's just magically… still there.

After all seven, eight murders.

Have you always been this heartless? Ever since they turn to be so condescending and kick you into the ground that you've had a fair share of the vile earth yourself, and make you swallow what they've spat on?

Maybe they deserve this, after all.

You sniffle, harshly wiping the tears off your sad fucking face. Grabbing your bag to find your phone, there's only one fight left for you.

“Raph’s dad’s lawyers are going to kill me,” you mumble as you tap the three numbers for emergency services. “They're gonna make sure I'll be behind bars for this one. They're powerful people.”

Sev huffs almost boredly. “Then good thing there's a security camera right across from where you are.”

It's a good position, and it's on. It surely caught what had transpired beyond the windshield of the rental car, and all the windows aren't tinted.

“They won't touch you.” Sev raises his rifle again. “I’ll make sure of that.”

You release a breath of laughter—either for him always having your back or the fucking coping mechanism, you're letting the universe do whatever it wants with you, as long as they decree Sev to always protect you against the most vile evil that the world throws at you, at least.

Taglist: @yoursrosie @hellfiresky @filamentlights @heidnspeak @lucyysthings @emmaw18 @leiopython-rat

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A/N: You can request for x reader in my askbox! If you're interested in my clone x reader oneshots you can sign up as well to be tagged of future works. (Link provided ⬆️)

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honey-crypt · 10 months ago

Note

spicy ask here but can i request a drabble of elliot and farmer about to go down on each other and farmer reveals to elliot that’s he’s their first time (i’ve been obsessed with your work, i always love reading your posts and i love your disability pride month works, ty for making me feel seen :D)

a/n: so sorry that this took forever! between being in anti-horny writing mode and getting sick, i couldn't complete this in a timely fashion (>,<);; but i hope you enjoy this, nonetheless! (and tysm for the praise towards my disability pride month write a thon hehe)

wc: 595

warnings: nsfw, farmer's a virgin, gender neutral farmer (too many uses of the word 'hole'), sweet sappy love making, elliott's a good partner, safe sex, aftercare

summary: you confess to elliott that you're a virgin and he tries to give you the best first time possible

★ virginial bliss - elliott x farmer ★

Elliott hovered over your nude body, his freckled cheeks dusted red from the summer heat and the passion of the night's early foreplay. You looked simply divine, sweat clinging to your supple skin and your pupils as wide as saucers. His cock lined up against your lubed up hole, the mushroom tip leaking with pre-cum and eager to feel your warmth.

"Ellie..." you mewled to the writer. He focused on your face, appreciating every aspect from your eyes to your lips, as he responded, "Yes, my love?"

"I need to tell you something," you answered. Elliott pushed himself off of you and sat on his knees, "Oh! Is everything alright, dear?" he wouldn't proceed without your consent, waiting for your word like an obedient pup. You too sat up and wrapped your arms around Elliott, pulling back down on you, "Ellie..." you hummed, "This is a little embarrassing but..." you leaned into his ear, hot breath tickling his skin, "I'm a virgin."

"You are?" the redhead seemed stunned. How could someone as beautiful, as amazing, as sweet as you be a virgin? Nonetheless, he whispered back, "Do not fret, my love. I'll do my best to ensure that your first time is lovely as can be."

"You treat me so well, Elliott," you pressed a kiss to his neck, "I'm so happy that you're gonna be my first time."

"Of course," he resumed his position, tip of his cock pointing at your hole, "I'll go as slow as possible, please let me know if you need me to stop, alright?"

"Alright," you replied, holding onto Elliott's arms. Your nails dug into his skin, as he pushed himself inside of your warm hole, the foreign sensation of being full down in your hole made you mewl like a pathetic little kitten.

"Doing okay?" asked Elliott, pausing his entry. He was only half way in and already, you were melting from his cock, "Yes!" you exclaimed, "Keep going!"

Elliott obeyed and pushed the remainder of his cock inside, earning a choked moan from you. Tears swelled up in the corners of your eyes, but Elliott quickly wiped them away, "Let's take a moment, you will adjust soon enough."

You clung to Elliott, holding on tight until the pain in your hole morphed into unfamiliar pleasure. Your skin was on fire, your heart was pounding, and Yoba did you need to be fucked.

"Ellie!" you cried out to the redhead, "Please, please move!"

"Absolutely, my dear," he began to thrust, the sensation turning your mind to goo. All you could think about was Elliott, as he made love to you in that farmhouse bed. Elliott peppered kisses on your chest and neck while he thrusted into your hole, his mind consumed with thoughts of you.

It felt like an eternity before Elliott climaxed, trapping you in a vice with his toned arms while he shot ropes of cum into the condom. You soon followed him in climax, your body convulsing while you rode your orgasm. After a moment of rest, Elliott pulled out of your hole and discarded the condom, leaving the bedroom and returning with a wet towel from the bathroom.

"You did so good," purred Elliott, as he wiped any fluids off of you and kissed your face, "You did so very good."

"Elliott..." you pulled him into an embrace after he cleaned you up, "I love you," you confessed. Elliott's cheeks reddened at your 'I love you' and muttered back, "I love you, too," as the two of you drifted off to a sweet slumber.

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headmateelevator · 6 months ago

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hello! could we please request a level two ranboo (dsmp)? including typing example and excluding front triggers and roles!

with a space and winter/snow theme! a fem gender. and a few non-noun neopronouns please! also. idk if we are allowed to ask for things not on the template. but a few 1st person neopronouns too?

thank you! this blog is great btw! :D!!! -green anon

order up!

name(s) - Lumi , Boreas , Khione , Chióni , Eira , North , Frostine , Frost , Blizzard , Alba , Boo , Altitude , Apricity , Aquilo , Arctic , Blanca , Blizzard , Boreas , Chione , Crystal , Demetria , Freeze , Frost , Frostbite , Miyuki , Neve , Nevis , Andromeda , Apollo , Artemis , Aster , Asteroid , Astraios , Astro , Celeste , Celestia , Comet , Cos , Cosmos , Esther , Exo , Kulpar , Beloved , Luna , Matter , Moon , Nebula , Nova , Oranos , Orion , Sol , Soliel , Star , Starshine , Stella , Sun , Void , Nueve , Pan , Permafrost , Snow , Uncia , Viola , Winter , Xuĕ , Yukina , Snow , Andri , Bylur , Snowstorm , Permafrost , Aneira , Nevada , Alaska , Aquilo.

pronouns - they / them / she / her / ey / em / er / ers / hy / hyr / hy / hymn / ae / aer / it / that / thing / thon / thons / vae / vaer / se / sim / ny / nym / th-y / th-m / shy / shyr / thy / thym / x / xs / sh* / h*r / shx / hxr / hx / hxm / thxy / thxm / snow / snows / winter / winters / snow / flake / cold / colds / fre / freeze / bliz / blizzard / frost / frosts / chill / chills / frostbite / frostbites / tundra / tundras / arctic / arctics / shiver / shivers / ❄️ / ❄️s / 🌨️ / 🌨️s / 🧊 / 🧊s / spa / space / spaces / sta / star / stars / co / comet / comets / pla / planet / planets / gal / galaxy / galaxys / li / light / lights / mo / moon / moons / shi / shine / shines / tu / turn / turns / spi / spin / spins / su / sun / suns / bri / bright / brights / cro / crown / crowns / 🌌 / 🌌s / ✨/✨s / 🎇 / 🎇s / 🪐 / 🪐s / ⭐ / ⭐s / 🌟 / 🌟s / 🌀 / 🌀s / ☄ / ☄s / 🌠 / 🌠s / 🌙 / 🌙s / 👽 / 👽s / 👾 / 👾s / 👑 / 👑s / 💎 / 💎s / 🔭 / 🔭s / 🚀 / 🚀s / 🛰 / 🛰s.

1st person pronouns - i / me / my / mine / myself / ar / ar / arc / tic / arcself / mrri / mrre / mrry / mrrine / mrryself / i / ce / ice / icine / iceself / dai / dae / dy / daine / daiself / spi / spa / space / spacine / spaceself / sti / sta / star / starine / starself / X / X / Xy / Xine / Xself / li / love / lovely / lovine / loveself / ei / e / en / end / endself / dar / dare / darly / darling / darlingself / eye / meye / meye / meyene / meyeself.

gender(s) - girlish , genderflir , etheria , neogirl , nymgirl , luveratix , neigean , kalanagender , snowgirl , snowfallgender , lumilexic , noxventic , pleiadessidrea , spacegender , stargender , fargalaxian , astroscenic , galaxyflower , cosmiclatteic , galain , sueaumoc , noctichrine , canistellation , heavoid , beltzelestial , spacecoric , moongender , galasterios , staric , stargalactic , destria.

orientations - bisexual , masc leaning attraction.

species - half-enderman.

source(s) - c!ranboo , dsmp.

emoji(s) - ⬛ , ⬜ , 🌻 , ❄️ , 🌨️ , 🧤 , 🌌 , 🌠 , ✨ , 🌙 , ☄️

likes - cold weather , flowers , sweaters , comfortable clothes , friends , peaceful music , minecraft and other games , reading , watching youtube videos , meeting new people , stargazing , learning about space , aliens , cats , any animals or pets , going on walks , coffee , repeating things said by others (echolalia) , watching cartoons , cooking.

dislikes - sudden or loud noises , overheating , pain , loneliness , rude people , tags in shirts , cheap jumpscares (they always get hyr and shy hates it.) , sparkling water , feeling grimy or gross , picking sides.

personality description - a friendly and polite alter, they enjoy speaking to friends and people in the systems life any time they front, and love to meet new people when given the chance, once shy makes a friend, shy will remain loyal to them and stick with them in whatever situation they may need help with. while x loves meeting new people, ny often enjoys staying in and watching things on tv, or cooking something nice when given the time. she can often be a bit forgetful, but tries vaer hardest to keep up with things and people in their life, often writing things down in a notebook or notes app to keep track.

typing example / small message - hello, hello! I'm Boo, and it's nice to meet you!! li just thought mrri should write a little message to.. say hello and everything! dai'm honesty very excited to meet everyone in person!! this message probably isn't really enough to say hello properly.. or really say anthing about iceself.. but sti'm sure dai can give a better hello when I finally actually get there!! x'll hopefully see you later?

faceclaims -

( 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 )

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morgana-larkin · 1 year ago

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okay okay okay, this is silly but i just need a fic where mel goes all silly and awkward when r is around, abbott staff notices and so does the camera crew where sometimes they caught / filmed when mel is being like all goof around the girl, and when the crew interviews her about it she threatens them and tries to make them wipe off the tape but r pops up to the interview and was like "no, no, you're too cute in there mi cariña, and once again, Melissa who's always in her so tough bravado, immediately folds in live action and makes a fool out of herself and r thinks it's cute. I just need a fic where Melissa loses her sht and melt because of a girl lol bahsjjajaja

Ask and receive 😉. I really liked this prompt and had a lot of fun with the fic so thank you for suggesting it. As always, not edited at all and I hope you like it!

And just so everyone knows, I’m working on another prompt. And for all the Worth It fans, I am working on chapter 7 so don’t worry, it’s not abandoned or forgotten. Everyone feel free to send in any prompts you want.

Part 2

Caught on Camera

Warnings: none

Words: 2.1k

Melissa is leaning against the wall looking at the camera, arms folded, getting interviewed. She was getting asked a question when you walked by and smiled at her. Melissa looked at you and smiled back, then she lost her balance and stumbled for a second before immediately correcting herself. “Melissa?” The interview person said, getting her attention. Melissa turned to look at them. “Sorry, what was the question again?” Melissa says and continues with the interview.

Melissa was walking down the hall with Barb when you walked by. “Good morning girls!” You told them as you walked by them and Melissa looks at you and turns her body a bit. “Hi sweetheart!” Barb says “hi y/n” Melissa says to you with a smile. As you walk away in the opposite direction, Melissa stares at you while still walking and accidentally walks right into a wall. “You ok Melissa?” Barb asks and tries to hide a snicker. She knows her best friend has a little crush on you. “Ya I’m fine.” Melissa tells her. Unknown to Melissa, the camera caught it.

“I’m telling you it’s true!” Jacob says to Melissa one day in the break room. “No it isn’t.” Melissa tells him, she wasn’t going to change her mind no matter what he says to her. “Y/n, back me up here.” Jacob says as you enter and Melissa whips her head around to see you. “Back you up about what?” You ask. “That Misty Quigley is totally into girls.” He says and you laugh. “Oh she definitely is, even if they don’t outright say it.” You say. “Melissa doesn’t think she is.” Jacob says and you look at Melissa. “Wel-well I guess she could be. I-I just, well they would need to confirm it for it to be 100%.” Melissa stutters and everyone looks at her. “Melissa, she totally is, like she was so obsessed with Natalie and even asked her to go to the reunion with her, basically as her date.” You tell her. And just like that, Melissa switched sides. Everyone looks at each other, wondering why Melissa switched so easily and quickly as soon as you said your opinion. The cameras on the other side of the room caught the entire conversation.

All the teachers are gathering in the gym for a meeting before school. Melissa is sitting next to Barb in the middle aisle at the end, with the trio right behind them. She has her arms crossed and feet out , and half on the chair. You walk by and smile at her and give her a wink. Melissa stares at you and proceeds to slip forward and falls off the chair. All 4 of them asking if she’s ok while they all try to hide a laugh. One of the cameras caught the exchange.

Melissa was getting interviewed out in the hall about the read-a-thon. “Oh I still got this, Janine’s class is going down.” She says and you walk by. One of the cameraman asks if you could be a part of the interview. You agree and are told to stand right beside Melissa. You get asked about the read-a-thon and who you think will win. “Oh Melissa’s class for sure. Her class wins every year.” You said confidently and Melissa blushes and has a goofy smile that she tries to hide, but the camera caught it.

On another day, Melissa is getting interviewed again, you walk by and get asked to be a part of it again. When Melissa gets asked to speak again she doesn’t know what to say. All her brain processes is that your arm is touching hers and all that comes out of her is a stuttering mess. The interviewer smiles after you two left to continue the day, he sees that Melissa acts differently only around you.

The next day, Melissa is interviewed again. This time she gets asked about you. “What about y/n?” She asked. The interviewer smiles “we have a bunch of moments where you act differently when she’s around.” Melissa blushes. You heard the question as you were walking by to the bathroom and you stop to listen. Melissa glares at them, “delete all that footage or I know a guy that will make you.” She tells them sternly. “Delete it? Melissa no, you’re too cute in them mia carino.” You say and she freezes, her mouth open and eyes wide in shock as she processes what you just said. Then her cheeks go red and closes her mouth as it goes dry. “Oh, ok, ya..of course, ya, they should keep the footage.” Melissa says, stuttering and stumbling through the entire sentence.

After the camera crew figured out that Melissa likes y/n, and her entire tough bravado falls when she’s around, they try and get moments of them together on camera and try and interview both of you together as much as possible. And every time, without fail, Melissa blushes and smiles, and her tough Philly girl act is basically non existent. While they know Melissa’s feelings about you, they don’t know how you feel about Melissa.

“How do I feel about Melissa?” You say the question they asked. “Oh, well she’s nice and very passionate about what she does, it’s kinda cute.” You say, trying to hide a smile, the camera catches it.

The rest of the Abbott crew caught on to Melissa’s feelings, and they have fun whenever Melissa’s personality completely changes when you’re around, which is every time.

Then the PECSA weekend comes. When you get there, you find out the hotel accidentally overbooked and they don’t have a room for you. You sighed, disappointed and defeated, you turn and go to walk out. You walk right into Melissa as soon as you turn around.

“Oh Melissa! I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings.” You tell her.

“Y/n, hi, oh it’s fine, it happens. Shouldn’t you be heading the other way though to bring your stuff to your room?” Melissa says to you with a blush.

“Oh actually they overbooked and I don’t have a room. So I’m gonna go see if another hotel close by has a room I could stay in.” You tell her.

“What? Nonsense, just stay with me.” She says and your face goes red.

“What? Really? Are you sure?” You ask her and Melissa’s brain catches up with what she just said. She isn’t going to back out now though, especially when she sees the hope on your face.

“Ya, ya of course. Let me just check in and then we can go up.” She tells you and you accept her offer with a huge smile. The camera in the lobby caught you two.

After she checks in, and gets 2 keycards, you and her go to the room and you freeze when you see only one bed.

“I promise I don’t bite. But I do want the right side.” She tells you. And on the inside, she’s freaking out, the fact that she’ll get to share a bed with you for a whole night…she feels a rush of happiness run through her whole body.

Once you two get settled in, you go downstairs to where all the teachers in Philly are and the convention booths and Barb is there waiting.

“Hey Barb.” Melissa greets her. “Sorry I’m late. They overbooked and y/n here didn’t have a room, so she’s staying with me now.” Melissa says with a grin, and Barb gives her a look then looks to you.

“Oh, sorry that happened sweetheart. I’m glad Melissa was able to help you out.” She tells you.

“Ya I’m glad she was too. I won’t get in your way though. I’ll let you two do your thing.” You say as you go to walk around by yourself.

“You can always join us sweetheart.” Barb says and Melissa snaps her head to Barb as Barb gives her a smirk.

“Ya of course, just join us, more fun when you’re with other people.” Melissa says and smiles at you.

You smile and accept their offer. You stay close to Melissa the entire time and vice versa. They don’t stay long though, they go to leave after they run into Janine. The smile on your face falls when you realise she’s leaving to go to the pool, and are about to ask Janine and Jacob to walk around with them when Melissa grabs your shoulders with her hands.

“You can come with us hun.” Melissa says and she lights up when you accept. You’re glad you packed a bathing suit, you knew there was a pool and packed one just in case you get time to swim.

You come out of the bathroom in your bikini but with a little beach dress covering you. You two walk down to the pool and meet Barb there. They find some lounge chairs and order drinks. You put your towel on your chair and take your dress off, revealing your body in a bikini. Melissa is sipping on her drink when she sees you take your dress off and she chokes and starts coughing. You go and gently pat her upper back and rub and Melissa’s face goes red and her breath hitched. Melissa has a hell of a time trying to keep it together and try not to stare too much when you’re swimming in the pool. She feels like life is testing her when you climb out with the ladder, with your hair and body all wet and you walk towards where they are to get your towel. Melissa can’t help but stare at your body as you dry your hair with the towel. Barb had to give her a small nudge to snap her out of it.

It only got worse for Melissa when it was the big party time. You come out with a black dress on that stops mid thigh and has a revealing neckline that shows off your chest amazingly. Melissa stares at you as you walk out of the bathroom, and if she was paying any attention, she would have noticed you staring at her. Melissa stares at you almost the entire night. At one point they were going to sit down until Melissa’s sister comes and sits down and they get up to leave.

“Hey guys, are you leaving? I was just about to come join you at the table.” You say as you make your way over. Melissa immediately sits back down again.

“No we were just going to walk around a bit but that can wait, come sit.” She says and gets a look from her sister and Melissa sends her a glare. You look and see that there isn't another chair around and before you do or say anything, Melissa grabs your waist and pulls you down to sit on her lap. You freeze and Melissa wraps her hands around your waist and smiles.

The more into the night it gets, the more drunk you and her get. At one point you guys are walking to get drinks and you stumble a bit and crash right into Melissa, and she’s tipsy too and she stumbles back into a wall. She freezes and blushes like crazy when she sees that she’s trapped between you and a wall. You look up at her to apologise but freeze when she’s already looking at you and she licks her lips when she looks down at yours. You lean in and kiss her and her whole brain freezes. You go to pull away when you realise she isn’t kissing back, but then she pulls you back in and kisses you back. The cameras caught all of it.

The next morning you, Melissa and Barb are sipping energy drinks to help ease the hangover. When you all step out of the elevator, Melissa wraps her arm around your waist and pulls you to her and kisses the side of your head and you smile at her. The entire Abbott crew saw as you catch up with them.

“Um, what was that?” Janine asks you both.

“What was what?” Melissa asks. And they all know not to question it further, but they still all smile at the two of you. As you guys walk out, you pass by a camera and Melissa looks up at it and smiles. She got her girl.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

@imaginesmultifandoms

@idonothingalldays-blog

If you wish to be added then let me know!

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x oc #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti #x reader #fanfic

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hotcheetohatredwastaken · 1 year ago

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Celebration: 88,978 Words in One Day!

Just yesterday, a few other LU writers and I, Hot Cheeto Hatred, hosted our first ever monthly (hopefully) Write-a-thon! This event ran on June 4 from 12 am EST to 12 am EST, with one goal in mind---write as many productive words within that day as humanly possible. Words included in the final marathon count ranged from storyboarding, fic writing, editing, answering comments, journalling and homework---basically, any words that furthered yourself, the writing community at large, or your stories. We utilized either the Discord Sprint bot or self-reporting to collect the numbers at the end. Everyone involved gave it their all, with most of them being present for most if not all of the run time as they were able, and I'm so proud of their dedication towards their craft. Anyways, here's the final breakdown of the numbers below, as well as the awards and titles earned by each participant, as decided by the discord server (and myself at random).

Now onto the awards:

I am pleased to report that @not-freyja (Freyja above) won the "Writer of All Time" Award, pulling ahead with 20,565 of our total words. What an accomplishment! Freyja participated from dawn to well, dawn, and they absolutely deserve all praise and awe.

I'm giving myself, @hotcheetohatred (Cheeto), the award "Writer of Some Time," as I fell behind our lovely Freyja by a mere few hundred words fifteen minutes before the clock struck midnight. Next time, Freyja, next time...

The "Actually A Writer" award goes to @marcusdoodlesalot (Marcus), who, despite the name, DOES actually write, not just draw! Who would have thought. Not Freyja, that's for sure.

The "Early Bird" award goes to @lerikwrites (Lerik), who solely sprinted in the wee hours of the morning (my time, at least). Terrible. Good job.

"Star Commentor" goes to @elle-rosewater (Eliot), because I stole most of her words for the count from my own comment section in the BDOR Prologues. We love you, Eliot :3 Can't wait to see you next month.

"Cheerleader" goes to @la-sera, who gave us much encouragement throughout the day. I stole your 19 words from you saying you were excited to read Estelian's work. Hope that's okay, because I really wanted to include you---you provided a lot, even if you didn't write with us this time <3.

@whumpitywhumpitywhumpity (Dowsemaxxer) earns "Spirit-ed Storyboarder" for all of his lovely, informative talk on Spirit and just what makes him so great as a rather underappreciated LU boy.

Two awards next! "Chief Editor" and "Most Student" both go to @unexpectedstormy (Stormy) for faer work on getting. stuff. done. Fae did a steady amount of work, so proud.

"Editor (of Word Count) in Chief" goes to @tashacee (Tash), who, at reporting time, was scrounging up 100 and 200 word bits like spare change while I desperately tried to do math. I love you, never change.

The title of "Specter" goes to @somer-writes (Somer), who logged in very few sprints, but participated with the rest of us and pulled up at the end with a whole 7.5K words and a bunch of fics to post at the end, with a lot of it being Ghost AU! He's amazing.

The award "Better Late than Never" goes to our resident artist and recently turned fic-writer @estelian-01 (Este), who joined only in the last half of the marathon but managed to pull a whole 4K! Pictures might be worth a thousand words, but Este wrote a couple more anyway.

@across-violet-skies (Riv) gets the title "Mover and Shaker (of Blorbos)" for managing to participate and get quite the hefty wordcount only a DAY after moving. They're a trooper, that's for sure.

@anime-obsessed (Vio/Nene) earns the award "Most Old School" for writing with pen and paper for most of the day. Please go rest your wrist after all of that.

The award "Head in the Clouds" goes to my bestie and beloved beta reader @needfantasticstories (Skip), who spent the day listening to music and writing Skyloft drabbles. I am nervous/excited to see if those drabbles turned out fluffy as a Loftwing, or perhaps into something more angsty.

@noorahqar (Qar), my lovely fragile Victorian wife, earns the title "Chatty." You know why. But you were there nearly all of the run time, and so engaging and encouraging throughout---a blessing to us all. And even then, you managed to pull so many words. I'm impressed.

And finally, @rosehipandroots / @rosetintedtears (Rose) receives the titles "ndskanefnre" (self chosen) and "Birthday Santa." The first was borne of panic of being asked to choose a title---the second of her relentless effort to get her birthday fics done. Great job.

I'd like to thank everyone that I tagged for participating in the write-a-thon, and thank all of you for helping me draft this post as well. If I messed up any word counts or details or pronouns, you want to request a title/award change, or I missed someone, please DM and let me know! The next Write-a-thon will be held on July 1 from 12am to 12am GMT, and we'll be trying to beat our record. Can't wait to see all of you then!

#linked universe #lu #linkeduniverse #linked universe fic #lu fic #lu write-a-thon #write-a-thon #more like #write-a-ton #ya'll did amazing #cheetowrites

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avasassisstant01 · 1 year ago

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I don't have anything against Melissa but finally someone who's writing for other characters. Your Janine fic was great, love how you did the slow burn, and now a possible Ava fic? Yeah I'm reading it

Melissa has over 200 stories on ao3 alone, just based on her and an oc or reader. Add the x Barbara stories, and it's a mountain compared to the rest. The stories are wonderful, but you'd think she was the one and only character on the show. 😳 Seriously, the numbers for Ava and Janine are dismal. I haven't even checked the others, but I doubt it's much different.

I have to join the collective fight to at least get half of that amount for the others. 🫡🤧

Ava will come soon after, but yes, Janine is getting her second addition next week. Another getting together story, but it's more solid for a sequel established relationship fic later on. It's based on the episodes sick and holiday hookah. The established relationship fic will be based on the episodes read-a-thon and fight. 🫶🏾 (Yes, I'm still trapped in a season two hyperfixation. 🫣🤧)

After that, Ava is 100%, getting at least 5k words devoted to her for once. <3

#abbott elementary #janine teagues #janine teagues x reader #abbot elementary fanfiction #ava coleman #ava coleman x reader #abbott elementary x reader #abbott elementary fanfic

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everyandanything · 7 months ago

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Hey look, another round of Born a Grease thoughts that no one asked for !!! 🫶🏻🥰

—Soda might have seen Paul at the hospital once, but what he didn’t know was that Paul went every single day until he caught word that Darry was going to make it. At first, he just sat out in his car and stared at the hospital building, terrified one of the Greasers might see him, yet unable to stay away.

But eventually he became brave enough to go sit in the courtyard. Never once did he step foot indoors; that felt like a sacred space he didn’t have a right to. Instead he held vigil outside, as if hoping if he sat there long enough, kept watch like a guard, he could keep death at bay. It couldn’t pass through those doors as long as Paul kept watch, it’d have to go through him first.

(And if death took him as its first victim, well, wasn’t that what Paul wanted anyway?)

—Pony knew the school (and half of Tulsa, for that matter) was doing fundraisers for Darry, it was impossible for him to miss. Posters about dance-a-thons and raffles, bake sales and car washes. Principal Mitchell even went so far as to call Pony into his office one day to ask him how his brother was doing. The same man who told Darry to his face how disappointed he was in how Darry’s life had turned out. It took all of Pony’s willpower not to punch him.

But he also knew better than to tell either one of his brothers about the money. He knew them, knew their stubborn pride, knew their need to prove themselves, to make it on their own, to fight the good fight until their dying breath. Pony understood in a way, and in some ways maybe even agreed. But he also wanted his big brother back, wanted him healthy and home and no longer knocking on death’s door. He wanted Soda back, wanted him to stop running himself into the ground just to keep their family going, wanted to see that smile of his that was so bright it felt like Pony was looking at the sun. He wanted his family home, and safe, and together again instead of split between an empty house and a hospital room.

So Pony never mentioned the money. His brothers would find out eventually, and it’d be too late to do anything about it then.

And maybe they could do some good with it. Maybe. And Lord knows they were due for some good.

— Darry couldn’t go back to school right away, it’s part of why it took him so long to graduate. It took him another year to get his strength back, to get to a place where he could move around on his own, could walk to his truck without getting winded, could simply go to the grocery store without feeling like he’d run a marathon.

There were days it was hard and he desperately wanted to give it all up. He’d lie in his room, dark and quiet, struggling to pull in a breath, and wonder why he’d even survived in the first place (there were even briefer moments when he wished he hadn’t, but he tried not to think about that too much).

But the moments never lasted long, because he kept Pony’s binder full of letters in his nightstand drawer. Whenever he felt the melancholy creeping in, all he had to do was pull it out and flip through the pages, soak in the words from his friends that made him feel loved, reminded him what he was doing it all for.

But Pony and Soda’s letters? He kept those in his wallet, always close. Not that he really needed to, he’d read them so many times he had them memorized anyway.

—Darry was in a state of panic before his first day back to college. Freaking out for weeks before, obsessively going over his class schedule, checking over his supply list damn near a hundred times. When he got up to get ready on his first day, he found the rest of the gang already in the kitchen with breakfast cooked (miraculously not burnt), his lunch packed, and his bag already out in his truck ready to go. He told them he was heading to college, not the third grade, they didn’t need to do all that, but Soda just rolled his eyes and handed him his lunch bag as the guys wished him luck.

Later, with his head swirling from different syllabi as he tried to remember the ropes of being a student, he finally got a thirty minute break to find a bench and grab a bite. When he opened the bag Soda packed for him, he found it filled with his favorite lunch and a good luck note tucked inside from his brothers, just like their mom had always done on their first day of school, just like he knew Soda still did for Pony. Darry figured his first day back at college would bring him to tears, he’d just assumed it’d be for a different reason.

#the outsiders #the outsiders fanfiction #darrel curtis #ponyboy curtis #paul holden #you guys are probably tired of me yapping about this I just have a lot of thoughts #and unfortunately for you no one to share them with #i will stop eventually i swear #born a grease

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cheeseplants · 11 months ago

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Fic: The art of being seen

A little cute human AU one-shot was written part of the Ineffable Prompt-a-thon set up by @ineffablyruined based on my own neurospicy difficulty with eye contact.

Prompt: eye contact

Thanks to @isiaiowin for the beta!

The art of being seen

Read here

Rating: G

Word count: 3,442

Summary

“Eye contact?” Aziraphale said, “Are you quite sure?”

“Me and Newt stared into each other’s for a whole two minutes on our first date, and that’s how I knew he was the one. It’s a guarantee, stare into their eyes, and then you’ll know for certain,” Ana said.

Aziraphale believes sustained eye contact will help him find the one, shame his date won't take off his sunglasses.

Excerpt

Crowley landed in the chair opposite, doing something that at least resembled sitting, and Aziraphale’s belly unknotted, releasing a kaleidoscope of butterflies that banged relentlessly on his ribs. Everything about him was exquisite - his sharp cheekbones, the long line of his neck, and the small tuft of chest hair he could see under that silver scarf. He was extravagant yet stylish, muted yet bold, and Aziraphale scrunched the menu under his fist so tight he was sure it would rip in half.

“Sssso,” Crowley said, “I was thinking the Chateauneuf du Pape? Heard it’s a good vintage.”

And that would have been the moment Aziraphale fell head over heels; if it wasn’t for the glasses.

It was already darkening outside, and the restaurant had that warm glow of soft lighting and candlelight, and yet the man in front of him was still wearing his sunglasses, indoors. Ana’s words swam through Aziraphale’s mind: “stare into their eyes, and then you’ll know for certain.” Well, how was he supposed to know now?

Normally, the last thing Aziraphale wanted to do was stare into people’s eyes, and yet he couldn’t think of anything he wanted more than gaze deep into Crowley’s and drink this man up.

Read on AO3

Read the collection here (and you can join in if you like!)

Huge thanks to @ineffablyruined for the prompt and setting this up. I had a lot of fun writing this.

@goodomensafterdark

#IneffablePromptAThon #IneffablePAT #Ineffable Prompt-A-Thon #good omens #good omens 2 #aziracrow #good omens fanfic #good omens human au #fic writing #fic

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satancopilotsmytardis · 10 months ago

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Welcome to the Drabble-A-Thon!

What is it?

From September 6th to September 15th, I will be offering 1,000-word drabble commissions for $5 through Ko-Fi!

Why is this a thing?

My job pushed back my start date by a month and a half, and I've noticed that my 3-year-old phone's screen is starting to burn out (my last phone lasted 5 years and I am incredibly salty about this). I want to take the week I'm off to try and get some outside work to start saving up to replace it and stay ahead on bills despite the delay.

How does it work?

If you make a donation of $5 on Ko-Fi, and give a 1-2 sentence description of your drabble idea in the donation note, I will write a 1,000 word* story! The story will be posted publicly on Ko-Fi, and cross-posted to Tumblr as well**. These will be done on a first-come first-serve basis, and I will keep a post on Ko-Fi and Tumblr updated on what number submission I am on. Because I don't know how many prompts will be given, I can't give a firm estimate on when the pieces will be delivered, so the queue will be the best way to see when your request is being worked on!

*The finished drabble will be a minimum of 1,000 words, if I go over by a bit, that is on me, and just a fun bonus for you!

**Ko-fi has strict guidelines for NSFW material, and anything rated "Explicit" will only be able to be posted to Tumblr. If you would like a PDF copy as well, please provide an email address to send it to in your message!

Are there any rules I should know about?

First and foremost, please make sure that you read my general commission guide which can be found here. Keep in mind I do not write Sub!/Bottom!Tomura or Dom!/Top!Dabi. If you have a question about your concept that is not answered by the guidelines, please feel free to DM me on Tumblr before donating!

In addition, please note that 1k isn't a lot of words, so try to keep concepts simple enough to be executed within that amount of story!

These drabbles also cannot be add-ons to other existing stories. For example, no drabble prompt can be for a story set after the end of Changing Currents, or an exploration of Dabi's time on the streets before Tomura adopted him in A Cat by Any Other Name. These are for stand-alone pieces in order to keep things simple and not conflict with the canon of my existing works!

Can I donate more than $5 to get a longer story?

No. This is a drabble-a-thon! While you are welcome to donate however much you would like, every $5 only gets one 1k word story. If you would like to donate $10, then you are welcome to put two drabble prompts in your donation note which will then both enter the queue and be posted! Every multiple of 5 is eligible for a new prompt!

If you would still like a longer story from me, then you can always DM me about setting up a full commission!

I want to participate, but I want to remain anonymous/I want to be tagged by a name other than the name used for the donation.

No problem! If you want to remain anonymous, simply put your name as "Anonymous" in for your name/nickname, and you can then type your prompt in the message box. You can send this message privately, and only I should be able to read your prompt!

If you want to be tagged by your Tumblr username, then you can also add that in your message and I will tag you appropriately when your prompt is posted!

I want to participate but I don't have any idea what to ask for!

Coming up with story prompts can be hard! You can send in 1-2 sentences of your idea, or you can simply send in a kind of AU, a rating, or a kink (or a few of them 👀), and let me take it from there! If you really, really can't think of anything at all, then just send in "Free Style", and I'll come up with something to fill the drabble! This is meant to be fun, please don't feel any pressure!

I want to participate, but I don't have any money!

That's absolutely okay! Please do not feel any pressure to participate! Money is tight for a lot of people right now and your needs, safety, and comfort come first!

My question wasn't answered here!

Please feel free to DM me or send an ask on Tumblr! I'll do my best to answer!

Thank you so much to anyone who chooses to participate! I can't wait to see what stories we're able to bring to life!

#tanco speaks #drabble-a-thon

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zarvasace · 4 months ago

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Progress Post (writing), 3/14/25

Kinda been struggling to write recently! Some life changes coming up this summer, and spending time chatting with people instead of writing, ahaha. But here's an overview of stuff I've been working on.

Four Swords stuff

Incremental progess on the spaceship AU

Several small ideas for the vampire lords AU

Blood-Sucker's Guide to High School sequel plotted, not drafted yet (working title: Blood-Sucker's Guide to the Shining Court)

Just a tiny bit of progress on Four More Champions

Fairytale AU (aka Vidow Beauty and the Beast) still kind of in a weird half-drafted state. Not sure where to go next on it tbh.

Overall not much going on lately!

Linked Universe stuff

A few ideas for Shatterproof in the works, and moving more than it has been! The series isn't likely to see a new fic in the next few months unless I get possessed.

Some actual progress on Marvelous Misadventures too! I have a better idea of what I want the climactic battle to look like, I just need a good, focused few days (and some encouragement probably) to write it.

Several Pathfinder Chain ideas begun in conjunction with Febuwhump prompts but not getting anywhere for some reason. Other things keep grabbing my attention. But I'm determined to write a bit more of them!

One or two mini post- White Walls sequences have been knocking around my brain.

I know what major Linked Nexus fic I want to write next, but I haven't had the space to think about it hard enough to have really started it yet. I know I want it to be about Legend and Twilight visiting Kakariko and addressing Twilight's recent uhhhh problems.

Does the Counterbalance-verse count as LU? Yeah I think so. I have a massive, super-angsty sequel planned (affectionately nicknamed GanonCon) that's actually underway. I believe days 1 and 2 are complete, of 14, with several more begun, following a finished outline. Not sure when I will work on this more.

Other stuff

The Hand That Holds the Sword/Bad End Links: part 1 of part 1 draft 1 nearly complete! :D this is where most of my energy has been directed lately, but it's a bit slow going so everything has kinda stalled. Only like three more conversations to write and then it's on to a few rounds of editing.

Part 1 part 2 hasn't been started yet.

(for those curious, I have 5 main parts of BEL planned out. More details arise every day and I'm super hyped for them.)

The LU Write-A-Thon spreadsheets ( @lu-community-write-a-thon ) have been taking up space too! Nowhere near sad about that.

Hearts Linked Together is always taking up some space in my head. Have y'all met Mori yet? I really want to draw more of them...

I need to transfer some more prompt fics from Tumblr to AO3, and I'd like to do another little prompt activity again soon to see if I can help the writing brain get into gear again.

So! Current priorities: BEL, Marvelous Misadventures, Pathfinder Chain, spreadsheets. Secondary: Linked Nexus, Counterbalance. All of this is subject to change. Anything you're excited to see? (Want me to infodump about something? Have a mini prompt? Want to have a silly conversation about what I've read recently? Ask box always open, I crave interaction.)

#progress post #my writing #honestly considering a bit of an online community break to try and focus and get some things done #anyway!!

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talanashta · 9 months ago

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Thursday Morning

For this prompt ("school days") for the Four or More Fic-a-thon @fourormore

Continuation of the "my lonely days are gone" series. Read Part 1, Read Part 2

As Steve came to that morning, he leaned up a little to see around Eddie. The alarm clock read 5:58 AM, just two minutes before his alarm went off, so there was little point in pretending he could get any more sleep.

Carefully, he climbed over Eddie to get out of bed and shut the alarm clock off. As soon as his feet hit the floor, both Robin and Eddie were scooching over in their sleep to fill the warm, empty space he’d left behind between them.

He stepped softly to the bathroom, where he got ready for the morning. A quick shower, a teeth-brushing, and a hairstyle later, he was out of the ensuite and bedroom, headed downstairs to start getting the rest of the household ready for the day.

He double-checked the calendar in the kitchen to make sure nothing special or extra was happening today, and there wasn’t. Max did have a field trip tomorrow that he was chaperoning, so he made a mental note to get together everything they’d need for that tonight. They were making a day trip to Indy, so he’d need to prep everyone’s lunches ahead of time to have ready in the fridge, and Max would need a bag of her spare medical supplies prepped since she obviously wouldn’t have access to the nurse’s office on the trip.

Today was Thursday, so… He jogged through everyone’s schedules for the day. Nancy, Jon, and Argyle had class all day, Robin had a shift in the morning then class in the afternoon, Chrissy was the opposite with classes in the morning and a shift in the afternoon, Eddie had work, and Max had school. That meant breakfast for everyone, since the few of them that would normally skip breakfast had busy schedules today.

After pulling some veggies out of the fridge, Steve started to make breakfast. Everyone was due to wake up in the next 45 minutes or so, and he wanted everything ready before then.

The oven got set to ‘Warm,’ potatoes were shredded and dumped in a pan with some hot oil, and a loaf of bread was sliced to be toasted. After the first flip of the hashbrowns, Steve put another pan on the stovetop with some chopped veggies. As the bread popped out of the toaster, he buttered each slice and tossed them on a plate in the oven.

Soon the veggies were soft so Steve cracked and whisked a dozen eggs, pouring them into the pan too. Checking his watch, he saw it was 6:55. Just on time. Once the eggs firmed up, he salted and peppered them and added a handful of cheese. It was the last pan to go into the oven to stay warm, and he shut the oven door just as he heard Max’s alarm go off.

By the time he reached her bedroom door, he could no longer hear the beeping. The question was, did she actually wake up, or did she just roll back over and try to go back to sleep?

“Max?” he called, knocking on her door.

“Come in!” he heard her reply.

He slowly pushed open the door, just enough to poke his head in and ask, “How’re we feeling this morning?”

She scowled at him. “You don’t have to baby me,” she complained. “I’m fine. I can get myself ready.”

Both of them knew, though, that wasn’t always the case, but Steve also knew how much it grated on Max to need help with basic stuff, so he let it be.

“Okay,” he said with a smile. “I just smiled.” He always tried his best to let her know things she couldn’t see, especially when she didn’t have her glasses on, like now. (Not that her glasses really helped much.) “Breakfast is ready, so it’ll be waiting on the table for you.”

“Fine. Now go away so I can get changed.” She waved her hands and shooed him.

As he was pulling her door shut behind him, Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle came up the stairs from the basement. Argyle was still half-asleep like he always was at this time of morning.

“Morning,” Steve greeted them. “Breakfast’s ready, just need to set the table.”

“Thanks, Steve,” Nancy said, headed to the dining room, pulling Argyle behind her.

Jon stayed in the hall with him. “Let me help.”

Steve nodded. “Sure. I appreciate it.”

The two of them headed through to the kitchen, Steve pulling pans and plates out of the oven, and Jon pulling plates and silverware out of the cupboards and drawers. Soon, they had all the food on the table along with drinks.

Max rolled out of her room and over to the table as the last few cups were being placed; she took her normal spot where they always left a gap large enough for her wheelchair to slot into place between the chairs.

Steve tilted his head, trying to listen for noises from upstairs but didn’t hear anything. “You guys go ahead and get started. I’ll go get the others.”

Once he was upstairs, he heard Chrissy’s soft, sweet voice saying something that he couldn’t make out. As he opened the door, he saw why no one was down yet.

Robbie wasn’t in bed, but he heard the sink running in the ensuite, so he assumed she was getting ready. Chrissy was in bed, along with Eddie, who was completely enveloped in his blanket in a cocoon.

“Hey, Steve,” Chrissy greeted softly. “Eddie isn’t feeling too good. I think he might have a fever.” She rubbed Eddie’s back (?) through the blankets.

“Oh, Eds,” Steve said, heading over and sitting on the edge of the bed next to the lump that was Eddie.

“I hate this,” he heard Eddie say, muffled through the blankets. “Everything hurts.”

Robin came out of the bathroom just then. “I grabbed the thermometer,” she said and held it out to Steve.

Eddie must’ve been able to hear Robin through his plush armor because he wiggled a little and stuck his head out, mouth open.

Steve tried not to make him wait too long, uncapping the thermometer, turning it on, and putting it in Eddie’s mouth.

All three of them waited, surrounding Eddie and staring at the device until it beeped. When Steve pulled it out of his boyfriend’s mouth, he read, “100.7”

Chrissy made a soft coo-ing noise and brushed back Eddie’s bangs. “Poor thing.”

He saw Eddie pout. “No wonder I’m so cold,” he complained.

Robin tapped Steve on the shoulder and gestured to the door. “I’ll go get him medicine. We need to restock our bathroom because I couldn’t find any in there.”

There almost certainly was some in the ensuite because he took some yesterday. Actually, he was fairly certain it was right next to where Robin got the thermometer, even, silly Robbie. It wouldn’t kill Eddie to wait the extra minute it took Robin to go down the hall and come back, though, so he didn’t argue, just watching her leave without saying anything.

Instead, he turned to Chrissy and said, “Robs and I’ll make sure he’s okay, Chris. Why don’t you go down and eat breakfast? You’ve got class in just over an hour, and I don’t want you to be late.”

Chrissy nodded and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, then turned and pressed a kiss to Eddie’s forehead and said, “Feel better, baby. I’ll come back and check on you at lunch. I love you.” She grabbed some clothes from the dresser, Steve assumed so she could get ready in another room and not bother Eddie again. Chrissy was always so considerate like that.

The two girls passed each other in the doorway with a quick kiss, and Chrissy gave one last wave goodbye to Eddie before disappearing into the hall. Soon, Robin was at his side with the bottle of aspirin.

“Got it,” she said, shaking the bottle in front of him.

Steve smiled at her. “Thanks, Bobin. Can you give him two and hang out up here so I can take Max to school?”

When Robin nodded, he checked with Eddie, “You okay if I go get everyone else taken care of? I’ll be back in just a little bit.”

Eddie just wiggled deeper into the bed and his pillow and blanket. “Mhm, Robbie can protect me from my big, bad cold. Drive safe. Tell MadMax I said to have a good day.”

“Okay, baby,” he replied and kissed Eddie’s cheek. After he stood, he wrapped Robin up in a big hug and said to her, “Thanks, Robbie.”

“’Course, dingus,” she said, hugging him back.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and let her go. As he went to leave the room, he told both of them, “Love you both. Be back soon. Walkie me if something comes up.”

Robin sent him off with a smile, and Eddie gave him a nod.

Steve headed back downstairs so he could pack Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle’s lunch, only to enter the kitchen and find Jon already on top of it, making PB&Js.

Jonathan gave Steve a smile and said, “Chrissy already told us Eddie’s sick. So don’t worry about us. I already got Max’s lunch packed, and her backpack’s ready to go by the garage door.” Steve sighed in relief. “You’re a lifesaver, Jon. Thank you.” He pulled Jonathan into a quick hug before heading off to find Max. Luckily, she wasn’t far, hanging out in the living room and listening to the radio.

“Ready for school?” he asked her.

She spun her chair around toward his voice. “Yeah.” Then she started rolling off toward the garage.

He honestly loved how confident she’d gotten in getting around their home. He just wished she could be as confident everywhere else. Unfortunately, they’d been having trouble getting her on a list for a service dog, which they’d been told was her best bet for increased mobility. It wasn’t that she wasn’t qualified; it was just how the system worked.

The nearest organization was in Indianapolis and had a waitlist that was five years long. Chicago had a couple organizations with shorter waitlists, but it’d still be over a year, and they’d have to travel all the way there to stay during the handover training. Of course, they got her name put down on every list they could, just hoping for whatever reason, she’d get chosen sooner, but until then, they’d keep waiting.

After he caught up with her in the garage, he helped her into the minivan. They’d finally gotten enough money together to get one that she could use with her wheelchair, so he could stop unloading her from her chair to the car and back again. Once she was secured, he hopped into the driver’s seat and double-checked one last time before backing out, “All set?”

“Yeah, let’s go, or we’re going to be late,” she said.

Steve took his daily route around Hawkins, picking up the other kids to haul to school. As each kid climbed in, he greeted them, eventually having seven noisy children bouncing around his van.

“Steve!” Dustin said when they pulled up.

Turning to look at him, Steve said, “Yeah?”

“Can we come over after school?” he asked. All the other kids started to give pleading looks in the background.

He could only pinch the bridge of his nose and sigh. “Fine, but Eddie’s sick so you need to behave,” he told them; if he could actually keep them away, he would say ‘no,’ but he knew that wasn’t happening. He reached into the cupholder and pulled out a small handful of quarters, passing them to Dustin. “You all need to call your parents during lunch and let them know, too.”

The kids all hooted and hollered as they clambered out of the van, Max rolling out close behind. Ellie made sure the ramp was back in place and shut the door behind her best friend. She always was one of Steve’s favorites.

All the kids started to head into the school, but halfway there, Dustin turned and rushed back to the van and knocked on the passenger window. Steve rolled it down to hear him ask quietly, “Is Eddie going to be okay?”

“Yeah, Dust,” Steve reassured his little brother with a smile. “Just a bad cold. You’ll just have to try not to get too noisy when you guys come over.”

“Okay!” Dustin chirped, perking back up. “Bye, Mom! Thanks for the ride!” he hollered as he ran off.

He could only roll his eyes as he pulled away from the drop-off zone and headed home.

Edit: I was inspired by a comment to write a bit more for this story (500+ Words!). You can find it in the comments on AO3.

Also, Read the Next Part

#fourormore #stranger things #fruity four #spicy six #polyamory #polycule #prompt fill #platonic stobin #talanashta writes #my lonely days are gone

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