honeymelonpm

[honeymelonpm]

My new job is going well. I finally have my foot in the door of the industry I want to work in. However the company I'm working for make very last minute decisions and change their plans alot, and as an autistic person I've been finding it a little difficult.

It's been all hands on deck recently because filming starts soon which is understandable, but an hour and a half went by in what felt like five minutes so I missed my bus by an hour and I've been suppressing a meltdown since I've left work.

I'm leaving tomorrow to drive five hours down south with my boss and I've just lost an hour of what could've been saying goodbye to my girlfriend because I'm going to be gone for a month.

:(

[honeymelonpm]

I would love a continuation of the Arthur Harrow x Age Regressed!Reader headcanons. Maybe something with him taking care of them when they're upset and crying? (Not a tantrum, just being scared or generally upset)

I finished writing the last third of this the other day but it didn't save 😭

Also sorry, this request is from ages ago, I travel a while for work now so I have time to write on the bus 🤍

After sometime, you became accustomed to a quiet, repetitive life in the village.

The things you found joy in had changed overtime, from drinking with friends and watching movies, to your good behaviour being rewarded, and being given the opportunity of spooning mouthfuls of your favourite, sweet cereal into your mouth at breakfast.

Being sent to go play with the neighbouring kids had aided in the adjustment of your headspace.

At first you would stand on the sidelines, watching awkwardly as all the parents and carers sat on the nearing benches watching the kids kick a worn soccer ball across the cobblestone.

Your initial instinct was to do the same, look out for the kids in case there were any accidents, until Arthur had joined the other adults on the benches, and encouraged you to join the group of kids half your age.

You were tense at first, kicking the ball around and walking at a brisk pace to keep up with the game, both lips pulled taut as you tried to mentally block the stupidity you felt.

By the third day you had loosened up, your feet in constant motion as you danced around the ball, before striking it, sending it directly to the chalk goal on the brick wall, before a roar of cheers echoed up and down the lane.

After some time, you had found the same joy in playing as the other kids, often playing hide and seek in the lane, or going over to each other's house to eat after a tiring game.

As much fun as playing games with your friends was, there was the occasional mishap.

You had been almost gliding along the smooth stone, hitting an old puck with a yellowed hockey stick that was being held together by nothing more than some masking tape.

You had been passing it back and forth to your friend as you reached closer to the goal, until one of the kids hooked their hockey stick around your ankle, your body collapsing to the ground with an undeniable thud.

Your knees and palms seared with an incredible pain as they collided with the stone beneath you.

It only took a few moments before your throat dried up, what seemed like an endless amount of tears glazed over your eyes, before spilling over.

You weren't sure if it was the shock that upset you or the pain, no-one knew.

Letting go of your breath, a pained wail tore through your throat.

The game had stopped entirely, both teams scattered in the lane all still and staring at you, not knowing what to do.

The parents that lined the nearby benches had dispersed, half of them racing up the road to find Arthur whilst the rest ran over to you.

A slender hand gently caressed your back, "You're okay sweetie, you're okay, Arthur will be here soon okay?"

Usually words such as those never comfort you, but in this moment all you wanted was for him to be there.

As if on cue, Arthur appeared from behind a brick wall, his cane not touching the ground, instead held firmly in his grip as he quickened his pace.

"Oh honey," He muttered under his breath as he knelt in front of you, "What happened?"

For the first time, you wanted to answer him, but the anxiety was too much.

The most your body was able to do in that moment was peer at him with your glossy, reddened eyes, hoping that he would take you away from the ever growing crowd.

Thankfully, no words seemed to be needed, as he placed one arm behind your back and another under your legs, scooping you up with a huff.

Carrying you up the lane, Arthur held you close, taking you through the open entry way and gently sitting you down on the kitchen bench next to the sink.

Your small chest jumped with your erratic breath as you tried to calm yourself down.

Arthur opened the old cabinet below the sink and retrieved a little box of bandages, gauze and an array of glass bottles.

Twisting off the childproof cap with ease, Arthur placed a piece of cotton over the opening and slowly poured the bottle until he was satisfied.

"What's one thing you can smell?" He asked, bringing himself in front of you.

Holding your breath for a moment you closed your eyes and whispered, "...Toast?"

"Good, what are two things you can hear?"

"...the wind...and me?"

Arthur continued to ask you questions until your breath had evened.

The harsh sting that buzzed over your knees and palms soon subsided when he applied a pink, buttery cream, before dressing them with an old roll of gauze and bandage.

The shock and pain you had initially felt eventually numbed as you were quickly overcome with a dreadful wave of embarrassment.

An unwanted loop of the event played over and over again in your head, not even the sudden clinks of the bottles being put into the old tin and packed away could tear you from the neverending spiral of embarrassment you had fallen in.

Arthur's firm, warm hand held your cheek, before he lightly held your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

"Hey," he whispered, trying to draw your attention, "You did so well."

He reassured you with a gentle smile and supported the back of your head with his other hand.

"You did so well."

[honeymelonpm]

do ya know what happened to heladodecerezq?

They're okay! They got in touch on @novanitee blog. It was accidentally deleted. :(

[honeymelonpm]

I have an interview/meeting today and I'm so excited. This could be the interview that gets me into the industry! :')

[honeymelonpm]

Hello ! Just wanted to say I really love your blog and your writing :) You write so well (I read Innocence so many times it's my favorite fic !). Do you still write for Harrow (and take request) ? I would love to see more yandere platonic harrow if you don't mind😘

Have a good day/afternoon/night 🤗

Thankyou so much that means the world to me! I am still taking requests as well as writing for Harrow, it's just hard for me to stay motivated sometimes 😭 🤍🤍🤍

[honeymelonpm]

I may or may not be in the midst of getting a tattoo for Steven Grant :)

[honeymelonpm]

Howdy. I thought of something for yandere MK. Reader that doesn't sleep very much, and barely eats. Either because they overwork themselves with other things, they're depressed, or they're just terrible at taking care of themselves. Totally couldn't be me... /s Anyway have a lovely day/night. :)

Crushed pills

(seperate bodies to mix it up)

Jake and Marc had been away on a mission for Khonshu.

Steven was taking care of you but it wasn't going well.

Steven held his phone close to his face as he bit his lip nervously.

"Steven? What's going on, buddy? I'm short for time." Marc said through the phone.

"I can't get her to eat or sleep, Marc." Steven whispered as he heard Marc sigh.

"I told you, buddy. You have to be a bit forceful with her, I know it seems harsh but it's the only way to help her." Marc said as Steven sighed a little.

"Okay, I can try." He muttered before hanging up the phone.

He slowly crept over to where you were sitting watching TV.

He sat beside you and smiled.

"Sweetheart, you haven't eaten lately. Do you think you could sit down for dinner with me?" Steven asked as you shook your head a little.

"Come on, darling. You need to have something to eat." Steven offered before you shook your head again.

"Love, I know it's hard but I need you to. I can make whatever you want." Steven asked as you looked at him.

"I really don't feel like eating." You muttered as Steven looked at you sadly.

"Maybe at least sleep, baby?" Steven asked as you looked away from him and shook your head.

"That's okay then, love. Is it okay if I just make you a smoothie?" Steven asked as you nodded a little.

"Okay, I can do that." You replied as Steven smiled and kissed your forehead.

He stood up and headed to the kitchen, he wasn't proud of what he was going to do.

But, it was his only hope.

It was either this or be rough with you and he didn't want to yell at you.

He crushed a few pills and mixed them up into the smoothie.

One was a sedative and the other three were vitamins.

You wouldn't eat but at least he could make you somewhat healthy and drug you to sleep.

He sat beside you on the couch while you slowly drank the smoothie.

You drank half of it before you rested your head on Steven and your body slowly fell unconscious.

"I've got you, baby." He whispered before kissing your forehead.

He smiled and picked you up taking you to your room, he gently laid to you down and kissed your forehead.

"Goodnight, my sweet girl."

[honeymelonpm]

oh my lord

[honeymelonpm]

Could you do moon knight as dads reacting to you being bullied at school? Maybe yandere? Anyways ily and I read your fics daily, it's so unhealthy 😭‼️

Extreme measures

(hope you like it, dear!)

Marc was hesitant about letting you go to school, but he knew you needed it.

You needed to learn and more importantly have some friends your own age.

You were getting ready for your first day and you were both nervous.

"Now, I know they don't allow phones but I want you to keep this hidden in your backpack incase of an emergency. And, wear this watch, it has a tracker so I always know where you are." Marc said as he secured the watch around your wrist.

"I know this is scary, but you need to be good for me and uts only three days a week for five hours. I know you'll be able to handle it." Marc said as he kissed your forehead, making you smile softly.

"Love you." You muttered as he smiled and ran his hand over your face.

"I love you too, darling."

--

Marc waited patiently but nervously outside of your school with all the other parents.

He finally saw you and breathed a sigh of relief.

You ran towards him and hugged him tightly.

"Oh, sweetheart. I missed you so much." He whispered as he held you tightly.

On the walk home you told him everything about your day.

You had told him that some of the other kids were confused why you didn't have a mother, he kept in mind that he would have to make sure you weren't bullied for it.

Overall Marc saw it as a success, you seemed happy after your first day.

But, it didn't last long.

After week two you had come out and hugged Marc, instantly breaking down in tears in front of everyone.

Kids laughed and he made a note of their parents so if Jake wanted to kill anyone he had a list for him.

When you got home he cradled you in his arms while you cried.

"Why don't you give it one more week and school and if you really don't want to go anymore we can homeschool you. How does that sound, baby? I'll even get Khonshu to watch over you." He said as you chuckled a little and nodded.

--

After Marc had struck a deal with Khonshu, no one had ever bullied you again and you loved school. And everyone loved you. (because they were too afraid to not love you)

Jake hadn't had to kill anyone.

Not yet anyway.

[honeymelonpm]

Sneak peak of the neurodivergent diary I'm working on

[honeymelonpm]

Dual Custody <3

PLATONIC The Mandalorian (Din Djarin) & Paz Vizsla x Padawan Reader

Minors, do not interact

Author’s Note: This one feels really half-baked but I kind of patched it up after some edits.

Description: In the first few years of your Jedi apprenticeship, your master is slaughtered, leaving you the prisoner of pirates. Years later, you find yourself in a different sort of captivity, the sort you might not want to leave.

Word Count: 967

Warnings: yandere content, depictions of violence, injury descriptions/mentions, captivity, needles, syringe, medication, drugging,

By clicking or tapping on “Keep Reading”, you consent to viewing/consuming this media. Minors do not interact. The cultivation of one’s internet experience is up to the individual, and any other personal preferences do not dictate the creations of others nor myself. The recreation, reformatting, re-posting or distribution of this content on other platforms is not welcome and I ask that any and all parties would keep from doing so, thank you.

You could feel the ship going down; after enduring such a volley it was to be expected. Though movement was greatly limited by your restraints, you kept to the floor of your cell, hoping the worst of it all would pass mercifully. At your age, you were unsure what to expect from death, having lived a fair amount of years in the custody of pirates, you had seen more than enough untimely demises, some of them executions where if you blinked, you were spared the precise moment when the soul vacated the body. Others dragged on for days at a time until the captain inevitably grew bored and put the subject of his ire out of their misery. 

This was something else entirely. There was the blissful reality where you were unconscious, followed by the excruciating pain of waking. Perhaps you were not in your ancestors’ high favors, and they refused you the relief of joining them. As your eyes opened, you took in the state of your cell; in spite of the crash, it still held its form relatively well, although you were not crushed under the weight of durasteel panels, the ship still smoldered, baking you within its walls. 

“Is…Is someone in there?”

 Lifting your gaze, you could see two lifeforms  peering in at you from behind the electrified field.Your throat dry from the heat and lack of water, there was no crying out for help. Instead you crawled closer to the field, showing clear signs of life. 

“There is! Blast the door, Vizsla!” 

With such little warning, you barely had time to shield your face as debris from the locking panel flew in every direction. 

The stranger’s voice was on the brink of trembling. “Hey, kid, just stay still, okay? We’re getting you out of here!” 

Rather hurriedly, you were gathered into the armored arms of a shining Mandalorian. His hold was hard, unintentionally so, and though you wanted to cry out, you kept quiet, taking the pain as it came. 

____________________________________

“How are they?” Paz asked quietly as Din returned from Nevarro medical bay. 

Din sighed, a datapad in hand. “Asleep. One of the medics placed them in an induced slumber so the medications can work properly.”

“And that?” Paz gestured to the datapad.

“Their file from the transport ship.” Though showing any sign of vulnerability in front of Paz Vizsla was forbidden unto himself, Din was only mortal. 

“Is there anything in there to help locate next of kin?”

Din paused, deciding what information to share while trying to maintain his usual composure.“Yes and no. The child is Jedi, an apprentice to be exact, but their master was slain by those pirates some time ago.”

“Then it would be prudent to send the child to your Jedi contact, no? Send them back to their own kind?”

It would be only just and rational. 

But Din felt an absolutely overwhelming sense of responsibility for you. Not only had he shot the starship out of the sky, and almost fried you alive inside that durasteel death trap, but he had been the one to find you half-dead in that scorching cell. Coupled with your extensive time in pirate captivity Din felt you were in no position to leave a stable environment any time soon. 

“Perhaps it would be right.” Din so generously entertained Paz’s thought. “But think critically.” At that suggestion, he could sense Vizsla’s growing irritation. Best to make his case quickly. “We–I found that child minutes away from death. If the Jedi were to be trusted would they not have extended every effort to retrieve the child upon noticing their absence?”

Din watched as Paz took in the information, inevitably rationalizing his point of view. 

“I suppose your words hold some truth.” He begrudgingly agreed. “Let us hope the child will be agreeable to their circumstances when they wake.”

Oh, Din had something in mind to keep you quite agreeable. 

_______________________________________________

“I can’t stay in bed forever, y’know.” You grumbled as Din Djarin helped guide you back to your bed inside the safety of the Mandalorian covert. 

“It’s only been a few weeks, kid.” He said softly, tucking you under the covers. “You need to heal and it's time to take your medication.”

Giving a frustrated huff you crossed your arms as Din prepared the medicine and syringe, the shining length of the needle making you shudder in cold anticipation. As he filled the syringe, the unmistakable sound of Paz Vizsla’s bootfalls drew close, the man himself soon appearing in the entryway of your quarters. 

“I heard you tried to join the other apprentices in their sparring, young one.” Paz said, stepping close to your bed. “Trust me, when you are well, you are more than free to join them.”

“No,” Din interjected, lightly shoving the heavy infantry Mandalorian aside so he could be next to you, “there are other factors to consider. We shouldn’t get ahead of ourselves.”

More forcefully than intended, Din Djarin pulled your arms away from your body, working his hand over the muscle of your upper left arm to prepare for the medication. “This will only hurt for a moment, ad’ika.”

Paz extended his hand which you took, squeezing with all your might as the needle slipped in and out within seconds. 

“There. All better. That should help with the pain.” Stooping comically low, Pax pressed his forehead to your own.

You really hated that needle and the prospect of your medication. But Force, did it work miracles. Not only did it numb your aches, but it completely detached you from a number of stress and frustrations. Perhaps it's only failing (aside from the needle), was that it rendered you terribly exhausted. 

“We’ll be back with dinner.” Din whispered. “Until then, sleep well, child mine.”

[honeymelonpm]

could i order one serving of yandere din djarin that tricks a jedi reader into a pair of force cancelling hand cuffs?

For the Mand'alor

Yandere Mandalorian (Din Djarin) x Reader

Minors, do not interact

Author’s Note: This is a bullet point fic bc I am only human ┐(‘～` )┌ also there's a bit of variation in the yandere content here, but I'm not gonna spoil it, so ya gotta read <3

Description: Ever the young and duty-bound Jedi, there is no anticipating what is to come of your first solo-mission: guarding the crown Mand'alor.

Word Count: 1.1K

Warnings: yandere content, unhealthy relationship, implied captivity, restraints

By clicking or tapping on “Keep Reading”, you consent to viewing/consuming this dark media. Minors do not interact. The cultivation of one’s internet experience is up to the individual, and any other personal preferences do not dictate the creations of others nor myself. The recreation, reformatting, re-posting or distribution of this content on other platforms is not welcome and I ask that any and all parties would keep from doing so, thank you.

“I trust you will serve him well.” Luke Skywalker sees you off on your first solo mission, to protect the new Mand’alor, Din Djarin.  Luke had received a worried hologram from his friend in regard to his well-being. There was no one else at the Temple better suited for such a mission than yourself. More than ready to step up, you agreed, finding yourself standing in front of a very stoic and quiet Mandalorian.

The objective was deceptively simple: stay by his side and act as a bodyguard for both the Mand’alor and his child, Grogu. 

The divisiveness of the Mandalorian sects is well known throughout the galaxy, leading you to expect a more dire situation. It seemed Din Djarin had yet to truly grasp the throne and was working to gather a more steadfast group of allies. As he did so, the both of you remained, for the most part, in the developing covert on Nevarro. 

Your presence is questioned by the members of Din Djarin’s covert. If he needs protection, why does he not rely on his fellow Mandalorians? During a round-fire meeting you tactfully assure all parties that your intentions are nothing but duty-bound with Din Djarin’s safety, along with the rest of the covert set as your top priority. With a fair amount of assertion (and some aid from the Force), the members of the covert more or less accept your position. 

While the adults and elders seem off-put by having a sorcerer among their ranks, the children take to you quite readily. Along with Din’s son, they find you absolutely fascinating, which could be attributed to their lack of socialization outside the covert. 

Of course, you are more than happy to entertain their questions about your life as a Jedi and even participate in a bit of sparring. You exert only a bit of yourself, giving the young ones a fair challenge to keep them sharp and developing. One foundling, Ragnar, is quite intent on beating you in the sparring arena, repeatedly asking for sessions. 

Life with the Mandalorians is oddly homey, giving you routine, structure and bonding not unlike what you experienced in the Jedi Temple. However, the experience soon becomes unsettling. Your meditation, katas and personal training always seem to be interrupted by someone. More often than not, you are gently (or forcefully depending on your resolve) led away to tend to matters of the covert, rather than matters of your own. 

You seek out Din Djarin, finding his presence the most familiar and therefore grounding. Though one might think him to be disinterested based off of his demeanor alone, Din listens wholeheartedly. Not speaking much he lends an ear, and when all is said and done offers calm reassurances. There’s no need to worry, the other Mandalorians are simply growing to like you and showing it by including you in covert life. 

He…He might be right. But doubt runs rampant in your mind; something feels terribly off. 

Taking Din’s word mostly to heart you let bygones be bygones, but stick close to his side. Guarding the Mand’alor is your assigned duty after all. Life with Din Djarin is emotionally calm compared to the rest of the covert. Though that emotional calm comes with joining the man in many of his own exploits that involve near death situations. (They are only near death since your company brings rationale and a certain air of expertise). 

Over the span of a month your anxieties fade and you find yourself relaxing into Mandalorian life once more. That is until you notice some of your belongings going missing. Your comlink is nowhere to be found as is your homing device. It is possible you might have misplaced them while off-world, but you’ve never been one to lose such important items. Without them, there is no contacting the Temple for potential help. 

The Mand’alor promises, should anything happen, he can simply fly you back to your Temple. But you adamantly reason, why could you not use his comlink. Would that not be convenient for everyone? He reasones, his tech is short range and on unequal footing with that of the New Republic. 

Din becomes more watchful of you, following you when he thinks you are unaware. You lose sight of peace and tranquility; having no comfortable way to meditate in such a suffocating environment only clouds your thinking and ability to use the Force more prudently. 

Unable to bear the consuming tension, you demand Din Djarin share his own transmission device. While no threat was made your disposition relays as much. Surprisingly, he relents, allowing you to use the device on his starship. For such a stubborn man, he gave in quite quickly; you’re nearly suspicious, but desperate enough not to question his intentions outright. 

He walks you to the ship, trailing right behind along with a substantial following from the covert. With your connection to the Force disturbed and your body on edge there is little you can do before something cold snaps firmly around your wrist, locking into place. Whatever was left of your connection is shut off completely. 

No matter how you try to pry and pull it off, the cuff doesn’t budge. 

You’re completely surrounded by Mandalorians on all sides; if there had just been a handful of them, even without the aid of the Force, you might have been able to fend them off long enough to commandeer Din’s Naboo fighter. 

But with nearly the whole covert standing between you and freedom, you are forced to submit and surrender your weapons. 

Din stands impossible close to you, had he been without his armor, you might have felt his breath on your skin. His hands find their way to your belt and unclasp your lightsaber, leaving you properly defenseless. 

You have no idea how much Din Djarin has been yearning for this moment, it has been so kriffing painful to not to have you with him securely. In all honesty, when he had contacted his Jedi friend for help, he expected the handsome master would come on his own. But imagine his surprise when Luke instead brought the most sublime lifeform he had ever seen in all his years. 

Yes, you would do just fine. Not only would you make a fitting spouse and founding member of Clan Djarin, but the entirety of the covert could benefit from your strength and honed skills. Of course, you would need time to adjust and acclimate to your new way of life. But Din can wait until you come around, after all he can be quite the patient man when he wants to be. 

[honeymelonpm]

platonic hannigram with a reader that comes home beat up after classes

To Speak of Death

PLATONIC Yandere Hannigram (Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham) x Reader

Minors, do not interact

Author’s Note: So with this one, the actual yandere/dark aspect is towards the end and relatively light. But there is some comfort :3

Description: After losing a fight after classes, you limp home, hoping to cover your own bloody tracks. Knowing your fathers, their response will be more than you can bear.

Word Count: 721

Warnings: yandere content, wounded reader, moderate wound descriptions, blood, bruising, stitching,

By clicking or tapping on “Keep Reading”, you consent to viewing/consuming this media. Minors do not interact. The cultivation of one’s internet experience is up to the individual, and any other personal preferences do not dictate the creations of others nor myself. The recreation, reformatting, re-posting or distribution of this content on other platforms is not welcome and I ask that any and all parties would keep from doing so, thank you.

Your bike was gone, stolen in the scuffle, most likely never to be seen again. Even if it hadn’t been nabbed, your lack of coordination and the vicious swelling of your face would have made riding impossible. Staggering inside your fathers’ house, every platitude was lost. Not bothering to take your shoes off at the door or hang your jacket on its proper hook, you limped to the bathroom, balancing yourself against the sink. 

Taking a few lengthy breaths, you peeled off your clothing, feeling the hardened stickiness of the sweat and blood break with your movements. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you could see your brutalized body, the toughened, discolored marks where bare fists struck bare flesh. Someone, in the throes of chaos unsheathed a knife, using its jagged edges to tear at your skin. Had you been less swift or the blade properly treated, perhaps it could have been a more fatal encounter. Leaving your filthy clothing on the tile floor, you stepped into the shower and turned on the faucet. When the water in the tub ran clean, you wrapped yourself in a dark towel, gathering the evidence in hand to bring with you.  

“Come here.”

Upon opening the door to your room, you could see both of them waiting by your desk, reddened rags in hand. 

“You bled out through the living room.” Will explained, noticing your confused expression. 

His face stiff with rage, Hannibal took a step forward, handing you a fresh set of clothes. 

“Get dressed.” He said flatly. “There is much to do.”

The cuts were treated first, split into wide smiles, still dripping until Hannibal pulled the flesh and skin together, sealing them shut with taut stitches. Will provided his own care, applying cold compresses to the worst of your bruising. With every flinch, one of your fathers would pause, checking in briefly before continuing. 

Your father sighed, slipping off his latex gloves. “And that’s the last one, child mine.” 

“How do you feel?” Will asked, cupping your cheek with a calloused hand. 

“Like shit.”

When you tried to lay down, your father held you in place, his blue eyes still kind in spite of his harsh hold. 

“You’re not going to bed. Not yet.” Hannibal took his place aside his husband, boxing you in on your own bed. “Not until you tell us who is responsible for…all this.”

To give the names of your assailants was to sentence each one of them to an untimely and gruesome death. You were more than old enough to know the voracious nature of your fathers’ bloodlust. Hannibal alone would eviscerate someone for so much as using the wrong tone with him in an otherwise polite conversation. Retribution for the beating of their own child would surely carry a monumental price. 

Licking the inside of your lip, you spoke carefully. “Dad, you don’t need to worry. I was stupid and messed with the wrong group at school.”

“Love,” Hannibal said, his voice low, “we need names if we are to help you.”

“Help me?” You nearly laughed, becoming bold for but a moment.“Help me by turning my classmates into more of your victims?”

As the last word left your mouth you froze. Will’s hand still holding onto your face, started to dig into one of your stitched wounds. You could feel beads of blood blossom and merge together, spilling down the curves of your cheek. 

“Dad, please!” 

Though you tried moving his arm, it stayed rigidly in place. 

Hannibal, taking mercy on you, gripped his husband’s shoulder. “Darling, that’s enough. They have been through more than enough for one day. Besides, there is always tomorrow. Perhaps our beloved child will be more rational then.” 

Reluctantly, Will drew back, standing up to leave.

“Good night, love.” Hannibal smiled, pulling Will out of your room. 

Once the door closed, you could hear the melancholy sound of the locks dropping into place on the outside. So their plan was to wait you out. Wait until you were desperate for food, water or the privilege of using the bathroom. There was no refusing your fathers; both of them could taste a lie on the very air you breathed. 

The names of your assailants weighed heavy in your mouth. 

What an unlucky fate to be made an unwilling executioner. 

[honeymelonpm]

So after three years i finally caught Covid 😭😧(boyfriend has it too).

Still have to go to my dialysis treatments. They put me in a sterile room by myself .

Anyway i was wondering if i could request a blurb with the moon boys taking care of reader

Seriously is their a Dr in the house?🤒

Care plan

You were curled up in bed, shivering and crying softly.

You hated being sick, with all your heart you hated it.

"Help me!" You shouted out as Steven ran in.

"Baby! What's wrong?" Steven said as he rushed in, expecting to see you covered in blood from the way you'd shouted.

"I don't wanna be sick anymore." You cried as Steven signed in relief.

"Oh, love. I know, it'll pass soon." Steven said as he sat on the side of your bed and ran his hand through your hair.

"I hate being sick." You whispered, nuzzling into his hand as he smiled softly.

"I know, sweetheart. We're here to help you through it, okay?" Steven replied as you nodded.

"Come on, love. Let's get you out of bed for a bit. Get you to have a shower and then I'll make some tea for you." Steven said as he pulled back your covers and started helping you out of bed.

You shuffled out of your room and to the bathroom where you began to strip off, Steven did the same and turned the shower on for you.

Once it was warm enough you both stepped in and Steven began helping you wash.

The warm water felt nice on your skin.

Steven eventually got to your hair and washed it for you, making you feel like you could fall asleep right there.

Once you were done, Steven got you some new clothes and got you out onto the couch.

You cuddled up with a blanket and turned the TV on.

Eventually Steven came over and handed you a cup of your favourite tea.

You smiled and rested against him when he sat down.

"Thank you." You whispered as he smiled and kissed your forehead.

"That's okay, love. Hang in there, I'll take care of you."

[honeymelonpm]

Could i possibly request a part 2 to “your obiwan” it was amazing! maybe reader works out it has been obiwan taking their things and him trying to manipulate them into not reporting him? or he like locks them somehwere untill they promise they won’t report. honestly idm what u do with it i just need a part two to the cliffhanger 😭😭

Might Be Broken Now

Yandere Padwan Obi-Wan Kenobi x Padawan Reader

Pt. 2 to Your Obi-Wan

Minors, do not interact

Author’s Note: Thank you for this request! Tbh I had forgotten about this one, but fr fr I adore padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi. I'll let him be a little crazy, as a treat <3

Description: In light of a new discovery, you find yourself with a shaky resolve. Can you really commit to right action?

Word Count: 1.3K

Warnings: yandere content, unhealthy relationship, stalking, stealing, unsettling themes, mild to moderate violence, hand to hand combat, vague injury

By clicking or tapping on “Keep Reading”, you consent to viewing/consuming this dark media. Minors do not interact. The cultivation of one’s internet experience is up to the individual, and any other personal preferences do not dictate the creations of others nor myself. The recreation, reformatting, re-posting or distribution of this content on other platforms is not welcome and I ask that any and all parties would keep from doing so, thank you.

The swathes of light flooding through the windows of the Jedi Temple provided a delightful warmth as you walked through the long corridors. Any and all warmth was a welcome after having to endure yet another audience with the Council about your unsettling circumstances. All you were given were more non-answers, an hour of vague litigation and a chorus of assurances that the lifeform trespassing in your quarters would be caught. The process would surely take more time as there were legions upon legions of more vital issues at hand. But in the meantime you tried to ease your mind, intent on seeing if your dear friend was in his quarters, perhaps game for a round or two in the sparring arena. 

Arriving at the residence halls, you knocked on Kenobi’s door, waiting for a few moments before being greeted by the amicable face of Qui-Gon Jinn. 

“Greetings, young padawan.” He smiled, looking ready to leave. “What can I do for you?”

“Oh, I’m looking for Obi-Wan. I was just wondering if he might be free for some sparring. Is he around?”

The Jedi Master shook his head. “I am afraid not. I sent your friend on a brief errand to the Halls of Healing. He should return at any moment, but I’m afraid there are matters I must attend to personally.” Politely enough, he pushed past you. “But of course, you are welcome to stay here until he arrives.”

“Thank you, Master Jedi. I shall do just that.”

As Qui-Gon Jinn left in haste, you entered their temporary living quarters, taken with how the atmosphere immediately filled you with a sense of serenity. Lush plants took their rightful place in the light of day, aside neatly folded mats for meditation. The living area was positively spotless, free from even the smallest amount of dust or traipsed in dirt. You could feel yourself becoming quite jealous and introspective of your own tidiness looking upon such cleanliness and order. 

Setting the thought aside, you tentatively sat on the modest couch, leaning back onto the cushions. Though his master had said he would return soon, you could almost feel you would be waiting for a short while longer. Hands moving to the folds of your robes, you retrieved Obi-Wan’s datapad hoping to pass some of the empty time away with something mindless. Much to your surprise the device was unlocked and without a code. Perhaps Obi-Wan wasn’t the sort to lock his tech; that or he was unaccustomed to letting the datapad out of his sight. Either way, it mattered not; until Obi-Wan arrived you could indulge in a number of entertaining holovids. 

Your eyes practically glued to the screen, you could see a notification appear at the top: ERROR - VIDEO RECORDING COMPROMISED. 

An air of curiosity had you forgetting personal privacy and pressing on the flashing notification. Your holovid closed in favor of another application showing what must have previously been a live video feed with a red icon in the middle. A similar message to the previous warning ran at the bottom of the screen: ERROR - VIDEO RECORDING COMPROMISED - RE-CHARGE CAMERA TO CONTINUE. Using two fingers you zoomed in on the paused feed, finding the area uncomfortably familiar. 

Looking closer you could see clearly your bed and simple desk cluttered with transmissions and texts. You were looking right at your own room from a camera feed on Obi-Wan Kenobi’s datapad. 

“Hey! My Master said I would find you here!”

Though his voice was sure and sweet it took you by surprise; Obi-Wan Kenobi was particularly skilled at moving so silently, even you failed to notice him more often than not. Before he could join you on the front side of the couch, you powered off the datapad, tucking it back into your robe. 

“Y-Yes!” Pressing your lips into a placating smile, you gave a friendly nod. “I was wondering if you would join me for a sparring session. But, I understand if you’re busy,” you added quickly, “Master Jinn did say there were matters to attend to, so sparring can wait.”

Under no circumstances did you want to be anywhere near Obi-Wan Kenobi. From the video feed alone you could unravel the mystery of your intruder and your missing belongings. As shocking as it might have been, it made perfect sense. In spite of his age and boyishly youthful appearance, Obi-Wan was resolute, cunning, prudent and exceptionally talented at weaving words to get his own way. Less could be said of some of the Temple’s own knights. No part of you wanted to believe he could be responsible for causing you such anguish, but there was no other reasonable explanation for the evidence on the datapad. 

“No, I don’t think so.” Obi-Wan said, scratching his head. “I just had to take some records to the Halls of Healing. I’m more than free to spar!”

“Oh. Well…that's great!” Standing up, you walked quickly towards the entryway. “I’ll meet you in the arena, Kenobi. I just have to retrieve something from my master.”

“What do you have there?” He asked, pointing at the protrusion showing under your robes. 

Waving a hand, you inched closer to the door. “Oh, it’s nothing! Like I said, I’ll meet you–”

Obi-Wan’s cherubic face became impassive and stony. “That’s mine, isn’t it? My datapad?” He took a few steps forward, outstretching his hand. “Don’t lie, that’s unbecoming of you. Give it here.”

You let your crumbling facade of normality fall away entirely.

“You’re one to talk, Kenobi. Like you haven’t been lying this entire time.”

Turning on the heel of your boot, you sprinted to the door, only to have Obi-Wan pull you back by the hood of your robe. Taking advantage of the closeness, you twisted around; gripping your friend by his shoulders, you drove your knee right into his stomach. Doubling over for but a moment, Obi-Wan kept his hold firm, dragging the both of you to the ground. Together, the both of you exchanged desperate blows, hoping the other would yield. 

“Is this really what you want!?” He cried as you flipped him on his back. “Do you know what they’ll do to me if you tell them?”

Oh, you knew.

The evidence would be analyzed, scrutinized, and thoroughly investigated to the highest degree, so that there would be no doubt in regard to the guilty party. During that time, Obi-Wan would have to face the Council, a trial of his peers and the reality that he might lose his standing within the Temple. Bandomeer, Telos IV, he would most likely be sent to one of those planets, banished to a life in the AgriCorps, leaving you forever separated. 

You would have to learn to live divided from the one person you had really felt bonded to. From your days in the creche to the classroom, Obi-Wan Kenobi had been a constant, something stable you could count on to ground you in reality when your duties proved to be immensely overwhelming. Reporting him to the Council would sever the poor boy from your life. 

Your moment of hesitation afforded Obi-Wan an opportunity to strike; an opportunity that would go unused. 

“PADAWANS!” Master Qui-Gon Jinn’s voice had you both frozen in place. With a wave of his hand he separated the two of you as he entered his living quarters. “You would do well to explain yourselves, right now!”

Looking to your friend, you were met with a pair of pleading blue eyes, glossy with tears that had yet to be shed. 

“We…We were practicing hand-to-hand combat, Master Jinn.” 

“It’s true, master!” Obi-Wan interjected. 

From the master’s expression alone, you had never felt more judged in your entire life. 

Qui-Gon took in a deep breath, pinching the top of his nose. “This is absolutely unacceptable behavior. I would not expect this behavior from initiates!” Turning to you, his expression grew a fraction softer. “Go back to your own quarters, young one. I will be in contact with your master shortly.”

Giving a quick bow, you left, making sure to leave the datapad behind. With your back turned, there was no observing the expression Obi-Wan wore, a smile pulling at the edges of his mouth, those tears you had been so convicted by, having disappeared entirely. 

[honeymelonpm]

hi hi hi! can i order one yandere obi wan, like ep I obi where he sneaks into his love's quarters to steal their robes or something :333

Your Obi-Wan

Yandere Padwan Obi-Wan Kenobi x Padawan Reader

Minors, do not interact

Author’s Note: I LOVE PADAWAN OBI-WAN KENOBI <3333 Forever in my heart <3

Description: Obi-Wan is thoroughly enamored with you, his dearest friend. In order to sate his desires and need to ingratiate himself into your life, he has taken to sneaking into your quarters when you and your Jedi Master are off-world.

Word Count: 1.4K

Warnings: yandere content, unhealthy relationship, stalking, stealing, unsettling themes,

By clicking or tapping on “Keep Reading”, you consent to viewing/consuming this dark media. Minors do not interact. The cultivation of one’s internet experience is up to the individual, and any other personal preferences do not dictate the creations of others nor myself. The recreation, reformatting, re-posting or distribution of this content on other platforms is not welcome and I ask that any and all parties would keep from doing so, thank you.

Without fail, Obi-Wan Kenobi managed to secure the code to your quarters that your own master changed once every week. Since a number of your personal effects had gone missing, the esteemed Jedi knight had taken to switching up the code regularly. Though frequent calls to missions off-world kept your master, and yourself for that matter, from pursuing the mystery of your stolen items. Being the dedicated and loving friend he was, Obi-Wan promised to keep an eye out whenever he was around the Temple. And to put your mind at ease he stayed by your side when his own schedule would allow it. 

Looking down at his datapad, Obi-Wan could see you were still very much off-world investigating a small matter on the planet of Telos IV. Maker, you really had been quite the fool in gratefully receiving the small pendant he had gifted you not to long ago. But you were so delightfully oblivious to his attentions and accepting of his attention, he could look over your naivete. 

Smoothly making his way through the temple corridors, the young Jedi padawan found his way to your quarters, punching in the week’s pin number into the keypad. As expected the door slid open, closing firmly behind him as he entered. 

Now where to look first…

Setting his datapad on the modest couch in the living area, he skirted around to your master’s quarters looking for anything that piqued his interest. That man, while plenty skilled and credentialed, was still not worthy to be your master in Obi-Wan’s eyes. When he really thought about it, no one was, but the least he could do was check up on the man’s journals to make sure your training was coming along well enough. Lifting the sleeping pad he found the leather bound tome where it always was, and once he was flipping through the pages it became clear something was amiss. 

My padawan seems to excel in their role as a tactician. After our mission out on Nevarro the council has taken note of the manner in which they commanded their squad. I couldn’t be more proud and inspired by their actions. While I am their teacher, I must admit, their actions are their own. I can tell they will be a remarkable Jedi Knight one day! 

While I would love to give them a much deserved break and time to spend with their friends, the council insists there is a dire matter on Telos IV that requires our attention. We could find ourselves there two days, maybe a week if negotiations go south. 

I do hope my dear padawan can forgive me for the lack of rest…

Obi-Wan shut the journal immediately, nearly throwing it back where he found it without bothering to make sure it was in the exact position he had found it in. 

Nevarro? You had never mentioned going there to Obi-Wan in the past few days. The least you could have done was tell him! Did he truly matter so little to you that it wasn’t worth the effort? Maker, he was a fool not to see the signs. First you forgot to say a proper good-bye before heading off-world to Nevarro and now Telos IV?! You were purposefully hiding things from him and becoming distant. The very idea shattered his heart and filled him with a silent fury. 

Fiddling with his braid, Obi-Wan took several deep and controlled breaths.

No…

This wasn’t you. You were perfect without a hint of malice residing within you. Since you were behaving badly, he would have to correct your behavior before it got out of hand. There was no need to panic outright. Obi-Wan could handle anything you tossed his way. 

His anger done away with for the moment, he left your master’s quarters in favor of your own, his steps hastening. Stepping through the door, Obi-Wan could feel an indiscernible weight lifted off of his shoulders. Unsure of where to start first, he took a look around, noting the small pile of robes in need of laundering piled on your desk chair. Hm, best take one of these off your hands. 

Folding up one of your robes and tucking it under an arm, he walked over to your desk, moving aside the books and stacks of notes gracing the top. It did seem like you were quite taken with the art of war tactics. Many of your written plans seemed to be without flaw and incredibly well thought out. Rummaging through your drawers next, he found something new. A small book roughly the size of his hand with your name inscribed on the front. Running his thumb through the pages the book was mostly empty except the first few pages. From reading the first sentence the padawan surmised he had come across your brand new journal. He bit the bottom of his lip, trying to contain his excitement. What a find! Though there was only one entry, his hopes were high. 

My master says I should take some pride in how the events on Nevarro unfolded, but I don’t know if there should be any pride taken. I did my duty as a Jedi, as a padawan. When I said as much, he gave me that pitiful look, but maybe he is right. 

I’ve been so distracted as of late, I can hardly take any joy out of life. With that horrible thief still finding their way into the Temple, there is no peace to be found. My master has taken to changing the code to our quarters, but that hasn’t done much at all. Hopefully the council will approve our change of quarters. Given the investigation, I assume they will grant me this kindness. 

Before we leave for Telos IV, I’ve been asked to attend an audience with a handful of council members. I’m not sure if it will be concerning the intruder or my actions on Nevarro.  There will be no time to say even a quick good-bye to sweet Obi-Wan Kenobi. I suppose I will have to just bring him something back from my travels. Surely he won’t miss one good-bye, he’s busy enough dealing with Master Qui-Gon’s antics. 

Sweet Obi-Wan Kenobi. 

You had called him sweet! His heart was soaring; perhaps he had sold you short! Stars,you really were the epitome of divine perfection. As much as he wanted to cut out that section of your journal, doing so would only increase your distress and paranoia. And given the news of an investigation, perhaps it was time to put an end to his obsessive trespassing. Though now with the journal Obi-Wan was unsure if he could actually stop.

But surely the Council would catch on. He would have to tread on the side of caution rather than risk exposing himself for a moment’s pleasure. Obi-Wan could easily find another way into your quarters without breaking in. He would think on that later, for now he could relish in the fact that you did think of him with fondness. And in the meantime he would wait for your return so he could continue to be your sweet Obi-Wan Kenobi. 

___________________________________________

Thoroughly overwhelmed from being looked over by a host of medical droids after an early return to the Temple, you and your master trudged back to your quarters looking exhausted and haggard. 

“Sleep well, young one.” Your master said softly, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Wake whenever you please. The Council will want to hear from us in two day’s time. You’ve done well.”

As he left for his own bed, you turned to do much the same, but not before noticing something curious laying on the couch. 

A datapad. 

Picking it up in your hands you turned on the device, finding it was registered to one padawan Kenobi. He hadn’t been around for a handful of weeks, not since before you left for Nevarro. He would have noticed its absence and asked for it back.

Holding onto the datapad, you retreated to your room, placing Obi-Wan’s belonging on your desk. Though scrupulous and more responsible than the average padawan, you supposed it was possible he simply forgot where he placed it. 

Yes, that was it. 

You could hand it back to him tomorrow, but for now your bed was calling and you would heed it without haste and look forward to seeing your dear friend come morning.

[honeymelonpm]

The myth, the legend

Happy birthday