#basically i had to cut ties with someone i knew for a long time

[phioneplatinum]

despite how bad my mental state is lately, it still manages to conjure up funny things

(flashing lights warning!!)

[apomaro-mellow]

Mafia Part 1

For the occasion, Eddie was given one of his dad's old suits. It didn't quite fit as well but it would have to do for now. He tied his hair up in a bun and put a hat on top of it. Wayne was dressed similarly and it was like this that they entered the Marini home. Eddie couldn't remember the entire reason everyone was gathering. Could've been a birthday party for all he knew. But being in the main house meant good drinks and a chance to rub elbows with the folks up top. Which obviously meant more money.

Wayne finally let the leash off to go and talk with some of the older guys and Eddie got to go off on his own. He sat with Tonio, a man shorter than him despite being ten years older and Swirly, who looked like a breeze could knock him over.

"Why do they call you Swirly?", Eddie asked.

"'Cause when I stab guys I like to flick my blade around. It's my own personal touch."

"'Personal touch'", Tonio laughed. "You're just a classic narcissist."

"It's art."

"It's ghoulish."

"You wanna talk narcissism...", Swirly trailed off as he took a sip of his drink.

Tonio whistled like a rock falling down a well. He must know who Swirly was talking about.

"Who?", Eddie asked, preferring to stay in the loop.

"The little prince", Tonio sneered.

"Steve Harrington. The boss' son", Swirly provided a better answer.

"Harrington, huh?", Eddie said, just meaning to get a feel for the name but the others must have thought he was asking another question.

"The last boss had a daughter, just an absolute peach of a dame", Tonio said. "But she went and fell for this outsider, Harrington."

"He'd done some deals with us, but he wasn't family", Swirly said. "Until he married into it."

Eddie nodded, getting the picture. "So Steve Harrington should've been Steve Marini?"

"He could've been Giuseppe Alessandro Italiano-Magnifico. Won't change him", Toni nearly snarled, starting to spoil the air with a bitter scent before reining himself in. Eddie was eager to find out how someone so high on this world's food chain had earned the disdain of one of his underlings.

Eddie moved around a bit. Tonio and Swirly were basically footmen. Always in the streets, rarely in the room where the big decisions were made. Eventually Eddie came to a circle of young men closer to his age. Young bucks who were also looking to rise up. Some of them were already related by blood, cousins and nephews. Others were like Eddie, boys down on their luck, doing little jobs here and there for the money. But when you gave to the family, there was always the chance that you could be brought into the fold.

You could be sponsored.

Eddie had heard of it. Heard it could be a grueling process depending on who was vouching for you and for what. Wayne had been sponsored a few years ago. It had been an odd time when he didn't see his uncle as much as he'd been used to. But by the end of it, Wayne was able to invoke the Marini name if need be.

It was power. It was respect. It was everything Eddie wanted. They were seated at a table outside in the backyard where they could be louder. As they were wont to do. Sometimes the conversation switched to Italian, which left Eddie in the dark, but before too long it was back to a tongue he knew.

They started talking about what they'd do to be sponsored and then it turned to what they wouldn't do.

"What if they ask you to be celibate?"

"They're not gonna ask that."

"I heard they made a guy cut off his knot."

"Get outta here!"

"Nah, it wasn't just the knot, it was his balls too."

"They don't want eunuchs!"

"An alpha's only good for his knot anyway."

"What's a beta good for then?"

"Fuck if I know."

That caused both raucous laughter and jeers from the betas in the crowed. And just because Eddie had to be a pot stirrer, he spoke up.

"What about omegas?", he smirked.

"They got holes, don't they?", one alpha said.

"Everybody needs a warm body", a beta answered.

"If they're the right omega they can set you on easy street", another alpha, answered. He'd introduced himself as Tommy. Hagan, not to be confused with Tommy Corns who got caught holding up a pharmacy last year.

"The 'right omega' meaning your omega?", another guy piped up.

"He ain't Tommy's yet. He's still gotta woo him", a different one cackled.

"Aww, you sweet on someone Tommy-boy?", Eddie jabbed.

"I'm not sweet on anyone. Just got my target locked."

"On?", Eddie pressed.

"Who else but the best? Pretty soon, you'll all be calling me 'boss'", Tommy looked so sure of himself.

Ah, so he was after the cream of the crop. Eddie wondered how many of these guys were after Steve. Probably not many if Tommy was openly gunning for him.

Wayne found him and put an arm around his shoulders as he brought him back into the house. "There's someone I want you to meet. Mind yourself and don't get any ideas."

“What? Me? Ideas?”, he grinned cheekily.

“I mean it. We’re here to do our jobs and keep our heads down.”

Wayne brought him before a man in his late forties, thick, dark hair, graying around the edges. Next to him was a young man. Both were dressed in perfectly tailored suits. For a second, Eddie thought that he was being brought before a fellow associate. But he quickly realized these two were far above that. Especially with the way Wayne deferred to them.

Eddie was so caught by a scent that he almost missed what was happening. Lavendar and pine, wafting around him in a way that reminded him of freshly laundered linens.

It was during introductions that he realized. This was the omega everyone was talking about. Steve Harrington.

And he was looking at Eddie like he was a stray dog.

Steve looked him up and down. “You’re the Munson boy?”

“Sweetheart, I think I’ve got a few years on you to be called ‘boy’.” Eddie hissed when that remark earned him a pop on the head from Wayne.

“Please forgive my nephew. He’s not around polite company often.”

“If he’s yours Wayne, I’m not worried”, Harrington Sr. said. “I know in time he’ll prove himself to be loyal and a worthy addition to the business.”

While the older men talked, Eddie’s eyes were glued to Steve’s, who in turn hadn’t looked away from him yet. There was something behind those eyes and Eddie wanted to find out what it was. Eddie knew what it was like when people looked down at you. Steve was doing that, sure, but it was more than that.

It was almost like he expected something to happen. If Eddie were more bold, he would have made another comment. But he wouldn't dare do so in front of such a powerful man. Steve's father, James, could have had him killed with just an order. He wasn't about to antagonize his only shot at a not-shit life.

Eddie would have done so if he could've gotten to Steve one-on-one. But after that little meet and greet, Eddie was taken to talk to other men. And every glimpse of Steve he got, he was glued to his father's side.

Little prince indeed.

Part 3

[sleepy-the-loz-enthusiast]

CW: injury description, I felt sad so decided to make the LU boys suffer. But it ends with fluff. Enjoy !!

To say it had been a hard battle would be a severe understatement. Sure, fights were never easy, but often the heroes were left with only a few scrapes and bruises. Not now, though.

Half of the Chain were rendered unconscious and now being carried by their brothers. But the conscious ones weren't without their woes- Twilight's femur had snapped out of his skin, for Hylia's sake!- so he's stuck riding on Epona. But only after Warriors had reset the bone and force-fed him a red potion. His trousers are still ripped and sticky with drying blood and tiny scraps of his flesh. Though, having one of the sturdier members on horseback has it's advantages, as Wild would tell you if he was awake. Which he isn't, his self preservation died alongside his body 100 years ago, and now he's slumped against his brother's chest, basically sitting in his lap. Wild's face is pale enough to rival fresh snow- hell, it's whiter than the bandages that wrap around the majority of his body. Though no broken bones, so that's a plus.

Sky's seated at Twilight's back, his head resting on the Rancher's shoulder. His arms are tied around Twilight's waist with rope that came from somewhere. Sky's stamina had failed him midway through trying to take down a particularly vicious Hinox, which kindly kicked him into a tree when he crumpled to the ground. The one moment Hylia decides to bless them is when Sky smacks into the tree arm first. Sure, his whole arm basically shattered, but a broken arm can heal; a shattered spine cannot. He didn't get so lucky when his head also hit the tree with considerable force and several ribs cracked from the initial kick. Needless to say, the boy is still knocked out cold even after two fairies and Warriors' first aid skills.

Speaking of Warriors... he's fine. Physically, at least. The War has made sure he can't be outnumbered in a swarm. Mentally? Well, about as fine as someone caked in blood can be. None of it belongs to him; it's a disgusting mix of monster and his brothers. His eyes hold a haunted hollowness, and though his legs keep marching and his arms hold Legend securely, he's somewhere distant.

Legend's no better off than Wild or Sky. In fact, he's arguably the worst off out of all of them, though not in terms of physical wounds. The Veteran Hero has his nickname for a reason, and his nimble fighting style merely highlights it. No, the idiot forgot to keep track of how much magic his items used and insisted he was fine without any green potions, Hyrule needed them more so he could heal the others. He wasn't so fine when the magic exhaustion stopped his heart. And it took 10 minutes of CPR and two broken ribs for his body to resuscitate. He barely stayed awake long enough to have a green and a red potion poured down his throat. His limp body in Warriors' arms is the reason the Captain periodically ducks his head down to see if the boy's still breathing.

Four had been the last to fall, and boy did he fall hard. With no other options, he'd had to split into his colours to guard the others and fight. It wasn't going terribly until their brains and courage got knocked out. A moblin's club took Vio down, and a Lizalfos took Green down with a cut across his legs. This spurred Red and Blue into a panic, which then led to more reckless injuries. What makes them reckless is that they tried to hide it, not knowing that all the wounds the colours sustained would all show up on Four's body. Who knew Red was the type to hide a stab wound? So now the Rainbow is passed out on Hyrule's back, occasionally muttering something incoherent to himself, but otherwise staying dead silent.

As for Wind and Time? The Sailor had been the one fighting that Hinox alongside Sky, and he'd been the one to cry out when Sky got kicked into a tree. But what does a Link do when in a panicked situation? Start throwing bombs, because that's logical. But Wind's barely a teenager, and so throw bombs at a Hinox he does. It's just a shame that the ugly thing fell on him and broke his legs. And that he couldn't even cry out for help until Time found him silently sobbing to himself. When Warriors reset his legs and Hyrule healed them, Time held him close like he'd done for Twilight.

Time's injuries are superficial, in his opinion. A few slashes here and there, a broken nose, a heavily bruised foot, nothing compared to what the others- his boys- had been through. Now he leads the group since Warriors is hidden away in his own mind, Twilight is fighting to stay awake, and Hyrule has no sense of direction.

But thankfully Time knew the path back to his ranch like he knew the exact time down to the second. He could find his home even if he was beaten within an inch of his life and on the verge of death... that was quite the scolding he'd gotten after waking up. But enough about the past, he needs to focus on the now. It doesn't matter how much he'd love to just collapse onto the grass and sleep, he needs to get his boys to safety.

And in time, that's what Time does. The lights of LonLon ranch have never held so much hope before, neither does Malon's voice as he shouts to them in surprise.

"Oh, you poor things! Come on, come inside, we need go get y'all in bed!"

The following minutes of getting everyone inside and comfortable is a blur to say the least. Somehow, everyone awake has been given a warm mug of chamomile tea with a generous amount of honey, and everyone who'd been unconscious is resting amid fluffy pillows and blankets.

Hyrule drops off to sleep beside Legend and Wild not long after, his body finally giving in to exhaustion after running on fumes for hours. Malon gathers Time and Twilight into her arms- though Twi's more on her lap than anything from his position laid on the couch. Time manages to relay what happened to his wife, but Twilight can't fight sleep any longer. Especially not when Malon carding fingers through his hair reminds him so much of his mother... he misses her....

Warriors sits silently on a chair, his mug of tea forgotten without a sip. He stares into nowhere while trying to claw his way back into some form of awareness. His brothers are safe. They're safe. They aren't going to die. So why is he still so... paranoid? Absent? Afraid?

He doesn't notice when an older man takes a seat on the chair beside him. "Son? Ya gonna wash all that blood off you or what?" He asks, his accent similar to Malon's in a way Warriors' dazed mind can't comprehend.

When the Link doesn't respond, the older man's bushy eyebrows knit together in worry. "Link? Ya with me?"

No response. The man- Talon- sighs.

"Yer friends are safe, kiddo. See?" He points over to the pile of blankets. The blonde man follows the motion with his eyes. "They're all breathin', all still livin' and kickin'. You ain't got nothin' to worry about." The man keeps his voice as soft as it can be, and filled with quiet patience.

"Y'all are safe here in my ranch, no ugly so'n'so's gonna beat y'all up. You can rest now, Link."

And that's what breaks the dam.

Warriors gasps for air, his mind catching up and reeling. He breathes heavily for a few moments, all the while tears stream down his face. They leave pale, clean streaks in the blood coating his cheeks. Talon takes a cloth and gently wipes it away, muttering words of assurance.

"You back with me, sonny?"

"Y- yes. I... sorry."

"Don' worry, boy. Go get changed outta those bloody clothes and join yer brothers, yeah? Yer gonna be all okay."

Warriors just nods, still a little numb, and walks off.

He returns a while later, his hair and skin damp and his undershirt clings to his torso a little. His eyes are weary and bloodshot as he looks around at his brothers, all safe...

Legend and Wild both huddle into Hyrule. Four and Sky are still out cold but wrapped around eachother. Wind's somehow cuddling into Twilight's side where he's sprawled out on a couch. Time's nowhere to be seen, but if the snoring is anything to go by, he's in his own room. With Malon.

Warriors sighs deeply, the tension in his shoulders unwinding for the first time all day. Suddenly he's exhausted and slipping under a rouge blanket before he knows it.

Everyone's safe now. Not uninjured, not healed, but at least they're safe.

This is kind of shit but I was sad and really tired so here's the boys being horrifically injured but with a happy ending! I don't really know how to write Talon, but I imagine him and Malon have helped Time through a lot so he knows how to help a traumatised Link. Anyways, if you're reading this, thank you, and have a wondeful existence !

[magicalqueennightmare]

New Orleans

(Eventual) Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

Your first day in New Orleans you quite literally run into a certain blonde who decides she wants to be friends. Who are you to argue?

How exactly had you decided on New Orleans again? Oh yeah, a new start. You needed it after the last few years. Maybe you could even find a legit job to help pass time between hunts.

You had the address of one of Garth's contacts that was willing to rent you a furnished apartment just outside the french quarter, no questions asked as long as she got her rent every month. You knew you'd need basics like bedding, towels and such so you decided to check in there first to get your keys and a full list of what you'd need then go shopping.

You were juggling a few bags, holding everything from sheets to a single serve coffee maker. You were already regretting moving somewhere that it made more sense to walk than to drive because the trunk of your nova would certainly come in handy. You needed to stop and grab something to eat considering you hadn't eaten since the diner you'd stopped at the night before.

You picked a cafe that looked interesting enough and had a small enough line. You ordered a simple sandwich and lemonade and had intentions of heading out to the patio to eat but when you pushed the door open to head out you ran full bodily into a blonde woman. “Oh crap! I am so sorry!” You reached out to try to steady her but she had a slight smile on her face “No harm done” her accent got your attention considering it wasn't the usual twang of Louisiana.

You felt the tattoo on your shoulder twinge a bit and studied the blonde for a moment but brushed it off “I promise to watch where I'm going from here on out” she nodded towards your bags “Tourist?” You shook your head “actually i just moved here” she extended her hand “I'm Rebekah Mikaelson” you had to catch yourself to make sure your expression didn't show your true reaction to her name.

Leave it to you to literally run into one of the original vampires. You'd heard they'd vacated New Orleans, was your information bad or had they just done a loop back? You shook her hand and told her your name. She cut her eyes down to where your lemonade had spilled all over the sidewalk “Allow me to buy you another drink? After all I'd hate to seem unwelcoming to someone new to town”

You felt the slight pull of compulsion and breathed a sigh of relief knowing the warding in your tattoo hadn't been a waste. She raised an eyebrow at you and it took everything you had to not let a nervous laugh out, you had no beef with her family and didn't need any.

“It's no problem” you assured her but she was already opening the door to the cafe and ushering you inside “Oh I insist. I have a feeling the two of us are going to become good friends” “Ok then” you agreed with a small smile. Why the hell had you picked New Orleans?

—----------

You sat across from Rebekah listening as she spoke of her family and their ties to the city you now resided in. After a moment she smiled again then leaned forward to where only you could hear what she said “I've got to ask though. What are you?”

Your eyes widened slightly “Excuse me?” Laughter bubbled out of her “When I told you my name you flinched, I couldn't compel you. You're not a vampire because there isn't a single ring on your finger. Werewolf is also no because you're sitting across from me. I'd wager witch but that doesn't seem to fit you either”

You swallowed hard but shrugged one shoulder “I'm someone who knows a little about a lot. There's a tattoo on my shoulder that's warded with every sigil seven different covens could get their hands on. I mean no harm to you or yours. I just needed a new place to live and a friend knew someone here who was willing to rent to someone with no proof of identity or job”

She nodded slowly “Are you a hunter?” You gave one sharp nod. Either she'd kill you here and now or get one of those brothers you'd heard so much about to take you out. You hadn't expected a smile to brighten her face “Delightful. We need to get together again sometime”

“Is that a request or a demand?” You asked and she shrugged one shoulder “It's an offer, just friendship. You're new to town, my family built this town. Besides there's some here that wouldn't take your word that you mean no harm and having one of us on your side could help” you held her gaze for a moment then motioned to her phone “Let me give you my number in that case”

By the time you got to your place you felt exhausted mentally and physically. How the hell had you ended up with one of the original vampires in your contact list?

You walked through your front door and dumped the bags on the floor. It was a small place. One of those open floors where the bed was about fifteen feet from the front door. A couch and a television was shoved into a corner as a living room of sorts. The kitchen consisted of a few counters and a tiny stove with a microwave installed over it. At least the bathroom was a decent size with a walk in shower and a stacked washer and dryer.

You needed to make the bed, put towels away and set up your coffee maker but all you wanted was a shower and to crash. One thing at a time.

The Originals

[murswrites]

Let Me In ⎯ Joel Miller One-Shot P1

Pairings: Joel Miller x AFAB!Reader Fandom: The Last of Us MASTERLIST Word Count: 3.4k Warnings: NSFW! 18+ ONLY, cursing, alcohol, cunnilingus, fingering, porn w/a LOT of plot SUMMARY: Y/N's a weaponsmith and Joel needs a new scope--they go scope out Eugene's place and unsaid tensions bring the pair closer than ever.

A/N Joel & reader fuck on the same couch Dina & Ellie eventually fuck on & honestly I find that kinda poetic. The exposition (aka pre-smut) is kinda long bc I cannot help but make the build-up kinda realistic, part two will be out whenever I post it lmfao.

There weren't many people who knew you all too well. You had turned 20 right before outbreak day and basically grew up in the apocalypse. FEDRA scooped up every single able-bodied young adult they could find in the early days.

You’d seen a lot of shit as a soldier–a lot of infected, but even more dead people. Losing a lot of friends along the way has a way of making someone’s nervous system… shut down. You outright refused to make friends with anyone in Jackson. It was hard enough working near the makeshift school the town put up.

Only a few of the kids had the balls to even talk to you–you wouldn’t admit it… but you could be a dick sometimes.

Weaponsmithing was something you learned as a soldier, with limited resources people had to get creative. Bullets were among the first thing you learned how to recycle but soon enough you were creating guns from spare parts. That was your role in Jackson, if someone had an issue with their firearm or any blades, you’d be sure to fix it up.

The small talk is where your dickheadedness really shined through, you’d always been shitty at it. Some townsfolks would come by frequently–mostly the ones who worked patrols and Joel Miller happened to be one of those people. He was similar to you in the way that he couldn’t bullshit a conversation if he had a script.

The first few weeks of him coming by to get ammo or his guns cleaned were quiet. He’d explain what he was looking for and then you’d provide him with your service. Simple.

But his guns were different than everyone else’s. He customizes them. One time Joel gave you his handgun because it kept jamming and there was an extended clip, it intrigued you–but you didn’t say anything back then.

The special touches he put on his weapons became a topic of conversation, sometimes he’d stop in just to see if you had anything new of interest. His daughter, Ellie, liked to come in as well (one of the few kids who liked you which was probably because she was just like Joel who was just like you).

Strangely enough, you liked Ellie, she could be a bit annoying at times but you were once a little dickweed teenager. You understood her and why she was such a spitfire. To survive in this world, you have to be strong.

—

“I’m looking for a new scope for this rifle–it’s for Ellie’s birthday.” Joel didn’t even bother with a “hi” or a “hello” as he pushed open the shop door.

You’d been working on reattaching a strap to someone’s crossbow as he entered, “I’m afraid that I haven’t gotten anything new in weeks.” You sat the screwdriver down, “Haven’t had the time to go looting.” Most of what you stocked was either from you looting yourself or the rare occasion when you’d give out a list to some of the people on patrols.

“Can I enlist you in finding something for this?” He sat the gun on your counter, it was beautiful.

“Wow, where’d you find this?” Joel mumbled something about his brother, Tommy. You knew Tommy Miller well enough and knew Maria even more so. She had been the reason you found out about the settlement. Before Maria decided to cut ties with the world, she allowed a few radio broadcasts to be sent out and it saved your life. You would have died as a FEDRA soldier if you hadn’t heard her call.

You lifted the gun and looked through the scope it had already, the glass was cracked and the metal was a bit dented. “I’d bet I could talk old Eugene into letting me sneak a peek through his shit.” Eugene was another one of the few people who seemed to tolerate you. You weren’t necessarily mean–just off-putting (and for good reason).

“Is that so?” Joel asked quizzically, raising his eyebrows as he did so. His expressions entertained you quite a bit–it was an excuse to stare without seeming strange. You liked looking at him. It felt stupid to think that he sounded jealous that you’d go to Eugene for help.

You ignored that thought, nodded, and sat the rifle down, “Tell you what, let me know your patrol schedule and I’ll talk to Eugene. I know that fucker has some kinda stash hidden somewhere.”

Joel’s momentary distaste was gone as he nodded, “Sounds good to me, darling.” Him and his fucking pet names.

You chopped it up to his “southern hospitality” but couldn’t help but wonder why he continually called you cute things. Darling, sweetheart, and honey were among his most commonly used pet names. It only made things increasingly complicated in your brain. To engage or not to engage–it was a tightrope you balanced on every single time you interacted with Joel Miller.

Hopefully, he didn’t see how your eyes would widen at the use of a simple adjective or how you have a little pep in your step after seeing him. That’d kinda ruin the whole mysterious ex-FEDRA soldier thing you have going on.

—

You could have gone to Eugene’s with Eugene but he claimed to be busy–you also could go alone… but why do that when Joel was the one interested in finding something for his kid? That was certainly the only reason you’d knocked on his door that evening proposing a plan to make the journey to Eugene’s secret hideout.

“We could leave tomorrow morning, nice and early, and be back before it’s dark out.” You said with a shrug.

Joel looked a bit strung out, “How’s 8 am sound?”

You began to argue that was early for you but you didn’t for the sake of his (probably fragile) sanity. “Sounds good to me, Joel.” Part of you wished you’d called him “handsome” or “cowboy” just for shits and giggles.

As you turned away from him, his voice caught your attention, “Do you wanna come in? Maybe have a few drinks?”

In the last four years of living in Jackson, nobody ever invited you over for… literally anything outside of work. It caught you completely off guard. Your brain didn’t know how to respond–for one, you didn’t like drinking and the more obvious reason was that you didn’t have any friends.

Maybe Joel counted as a friend, you two talked pretty consistently, but you knew that if you didn’t run the weaponsmithing shop… the chances of seeing him frequently would plummet. 

“Um… I don’t actually drink.” You didn’t want to say no to his offer, “You could drink and I can live vicariously through you?”

To your surprise, he smiled at that and nodded. You entered the house slowly, taking it in with your eyes much quicker than your body moved. There were paintings on the wall and the curtains were yellowed. The rug was gorgeous despite its age, you wanted to be an interior designer prior to the outbreak.

“Why don’t you drink?” Joel sounded genuinely curious–not in a judgy way which you appreciated.

“The taste is far from ideal and don’t even get me started on the smell.” Your face contorted in disgust. “Let's just say those two years I spent in university before all this shit ruined alcohol for me.” You weren’t a party animal–more of an alcoholic to be honest.

Joel hummed in response and left you in the living room, you looked at the bookshelf curiously.

“I’ve got some lemonade Ellie made if you’d be interested?”

Something cool and refreshing sounded like a dream, “I’d love some, thank you.”

—

You were fucking beat the next morning. Your night ended sometime between 12 and 2 am–you always struggled with falling asleep. The night was spent talking and learning more about one another. Joel was an interesting person, he was touchy with some topics but overall, you two got along really nicely.

He had a few drinks and seemed much more at ease with himself. Less uptight and stoic, it was nice seeing him in his natural state.

“I always look forward to seeing you, sweetheart.”

Joel said that as you left and you went home with hot cheeks. He could have worded it a hundred different ways, “I like coming by your shop.”, “You’re helpful.” etc. But he didn’t and you couldn’t stop thinking about what he really meant.

It was 7 am and you felt like you were dead–but you got out of bed anyway. And by 8:30 you two were on your way to Eugene’s hideout.

“He said he didn’t know what was in there but we had free reign, I’ll help look for the scope but then I’m going to search for something a little more specific.”

Joel tilted his head at you, “Specific like what?”

You were wide awake with the help of the crisp morning air, “I like to indulge in marijuana from time to time. Eugene said if I could find it… I can have some.”

“You prefer smoking over drinking?” You nodded, “Huh.”

“What’s that mean?” You asked.

Joel shrugged, “Just interestin’, I’m the opposite.”

—

It was early afternoon by the time you made it to the library, you guys took it easy. You could rush home after hopefully finding a scope. Thankfully, Eugene has his things in an organized chaos.

You two stand side by side, checking in every tub, box, and drawer for something of use. “Oh, what’s that?” Joel’s holding a comic book.

“Ellie likes these, thinking if we can’t find a scope–I might be able to trade Eugene something for ‘em.”

“That’s a good idea, but we will find a scope because there’s no way in hell that man doesn’t have a stash of gun-related goodies.” You were quite excited to find it, to be honest, the lack of supply runs has been making things a bit boring. “I’m hoping to find something for my bow and arrow,”

Joel readjusts his gun on his shoulder, “What’re you thinking?”

“You know that handmade bow I’ve got? I want to put a scope on it and replace the string, maybe even a new grip if there are any.” It’d be nice to have something of good quality again.

“Could you take a look at my rifle as well?” You nod without even thinking, “Thanks, sugar.” That’s a new one.

The pet name makes you pause as you confront yourself with the possibility of asking him about the night before. “When you said you always look forward to seeing me was that in a platonic way or–”

He cut you off, “Whichever way you’d prefer it to be.”

That wasn’t what you expected him to say but it sparked some confidence in you, “My likeness to a hermit doesn’t bother you?”

“I understand it.” You raised an eyebrow in a silent question, “It’s scary to let people in.” It was obvious that it took Joel a lot of effort to admit that and you admired him greatly. You couldn’t even admit how difficult it was to let people in most days.

“It’s horrifying. Especially after everything I’ve lost.”

Joel nodded slowly, “I lost my entire world.” He took a deep breath, “But… I want to be able to enjoy what time I do have left. Being alone drags down on the heart.”

“You say that like you’re gonna die so soon,” He shrugged. “Yea, I guess you’re right to not assume you have a long life ahead of you… I won’t say I’m sorry for what happened to you–but I am proud that you’re able to admit that you wanna live your life without guilt.”

There wasn’t much space between the two of you. The mutual understanding of what it meant, not to move on but to continue living without guilt that you weren’t grieving enough pushed you closer to him.

Joel’s eyes were flitting between yours and (presumably) your lips, “Only took me three decades.”

“I still haven’t admitted it, don’t beat yourself up, cowboy.” You worried it was insensitive to drop in a flirty pet name but it seemed Joel didn’t mind.

His jaw flexed and you found yourself keenly aware of every movement he made. The air felt thick with everything that hadn’t been said. His eyes captured your attention the most, they were such a rich shade of brown–warm.

“I gotta ask–I’m not wrong in assuming there’s something here, am I?”

You shook your head embarrassingly fast, “No, there definitely is. It’s kind of overwhelming but I trust you, Joel.”

That seemed to be what he needed to hear as he leaned forward to capture your lips. He was careful with his movements, you were unsure. Not because you were uncomfortable but because you didn’t have much experience in general.

You set down the VHS tape you’d been looking at and reached a hand up to Joel’s cheek. His facial hair was softer than you expected and your brain immediately went to the gutter as you whipped through a hundred fantasies in one second. Joel pulls away to lay his rifle on the pile of boxes and separates himself from his coat.

“When’d it get so hot in here?” It’s a rhetorical question but the chuckle that escapes from his chest makes you weak in the knees. Your coat soon follows as you two meet again–only this time you’re much closer and it’s harder to ignore the growing heat pooling between your legs.

He lowers his head to your neck and begins dropping kisses and bites here and there, each time his teeth grasp your skin you gasp in surprise. You’re surprised by how much you like the pain. Joel’s hands explore your back and behind, he pulls you as close as he can and it’s so much in such a good way.

One arm slings over his shoulder and your other hand is pushing through the hair at the nape of his neck, “Oh my–” He bites at the bend between your neck and shoulder and it’s euphoric.

“Is there–some kinda sofa or somethin’ here?” Joel’s voice is deliciously airy and somehow sounds deeper than usual.

You nod and grab his hand, leading him to the basement. Once you make it down, the smell of weed hits you like a freight train–Eugene prides himself on his plants.

Joel’s eyes grow wide with surprise and it makes you giggle, “It’s something, ain’t it?” He nods in agreement as you push him onto the sofa lightly. Joel raises his eyebrows and watches as you straddle his lap, you guide his hands onto your hips. That’s about all you know about being sexy and it seems to do the trick because you can feel him beneath you.

His lips are on your neck again and you’re gripping his blue flannel trying to keep your composure, how can someone’s tongue alone feel so good? Instantly to the gutter. Joel uses his hold on your hips to rock you back and forth over his lap, his hard-on presses into you beautifully and it makes your eyes roll back.

“You’re so sensitive…” Embarrassment covers your face as you stare at him, “It’s sexy,” Joel adds and you feel a little better. “I mean it,” He lifts his hips to push into you and the moan you let out is completely accidental.

“Jesus Christ I might actually fucking explode.” Rambling is probably the worst thing you do in intimate moments. “That feels… god… I can’t explain it,” You dip your head to latch onto his neck, sucking and licking–listening to his breathing to see what he likes.

When you bite in that same spot he did earlier, you feel him twitch. You draw back and look at where your bodies meet, your mouth waters at the thought of giving him head. “I want you in my mouth.” You finally admit, eyes wide as you try to gauge his response.

Joel tilts his head and his eyes narrow which confuses you for only a second. “I’m not gonna lie to you and say I have the best endurance in the world–let me treat you first?”

You nod slowly, “Okay, J.”

“J?” You smile shyly and he sets a hand on your cheek, “You’re just full of surprises,”

You slide off of his lap and onto the sofa, your back on the armrest as Joel kicks off his shoes–you do the same. He hovers over you, kissing you deeply once more. You raise your head to chase after him and his chuckle kills you a little.

“I’ll be back up there soon enough, baby.” Your hips rut up into his frontside subconsciously which causes Joel’s ego to grow even larger, “You love it when I call you all kinds of pretty names, don’t ya?”

“You know I do, Joel.” He smirks deviously and kisses above your collar. He nudges your shoulder with his nose and you take that as a hint to remove your shirt. You pull it over your head and he’s watching you with those chocolate eyes again. The way he stares at you makes you feel so… naked.

It’s like he can hear your thoughts. “Your turn,” You joke but he takes it seriously–leaning back on his heels to unbutton the uppermost buttons and slide the shirt off. Joel’s build is wide and thick. His shoulders span wide and his thighs are muscular.

“How about you let me make you feel real good?” You bite your lip in anticipation as he unbuttons your jeans, and you aid him in pulling them down your legs. It’s wash day so you’re wearing a pair of skimpy lace underwear. His adam’s apple bobs up and down as he makes eye contact with the wet patch on your crotch.

Joel reaches a hand forward and brushes two fingers up the length of your crotch, your eyes flutter shut and you sigh. “Can I take these–”

“Please.” You beg before he can even finish his sentence.

He’s gentler with removing your underwear, you feel hot and heavy when he stares into your eyes as he sniffs the lace number (and moans after). Somehow that’s the hottest thing you’d ever seen. You sigh loudly and watch as he settles between your legs.

First he admires you for a good 15 seconds, you can’t help but run a hand through his hair as he gazes upon your sex. Then he’s sliding a finger through your wetness, quickly finding your clit and focusing his attention there. You can feel Joel watching for your reaction. The way you scrunch your nose up and bite your lip, or when your breath catches from the way he bites into your thigh.

“Do that again.” Joel licks your other thigh and bites, “More,” The pain builds in a beautiful way which makes you squirm.

“I haven’t even touched you properly, darling.”

Something makes you answer confidently, “Then stop teasing.” You demand and the way his eyes bore into yours makes you backtrack, “…please stop teasing…”

“Good.” Joel takes your request in stride and uses his fingers to part your lips in order to access your most sensitive parts.

The instant his mouth is on you, you feel something building inside. Joel uses his thumb and pointer finger to circle your clit and literally makes out with your sex. It’s loud and you know it’s messy but it feels so fucking good. The few times you’d been eaten out were shitty in comparison–any other intimacy you had with other people is shitty in comparison to Joel.

Joel grabs a hold of the tops of your thighs–dragging you closer to his mouth as he groans into you. The vibrations make you gasp and unintentionally pull on his hair. You feel an orgasm coming and coming up on you quickly.

“Fuck–I’m close. I’m so close–oh my god–”

Joel focuses his mouth on your clit and slides a finger inside you. He curls it upward and you’re cumming all over his face and hand. Joel helps you ride through your orgasm by pumping his finger slowly in and out of you, he’s not licking anymore–just smelling and the thought that he enjoys your scent so much makes you even hotter.

You’re breathing heavily and trying to ground yourself as Joel sucks your cum off of his finger. “What the fuck?” You chuckle and wipe a hand down your face.

He watches you carefully, “You okay?”

“Yes, I am. I’m very okay, I’m just–WOW.” Joel smirks at himself and you finally catch your breath, “That’s the best orgasm I’ve ever fucking had–” You reach for the back of his neck and pull him in for a kiss. The taste of yourself makes you groan against Joel’s mouth.

[jade-kyo]

sorry if this dumb, but I genuinely don't understand. What is wrong with the direction Noragami is taking ?

Not dumb at all and I’m very willing to break it down- this got pretty long and I just kinda typed it all out as I thought of it so I hope it’s not too incoherent and rambling but yeah. I have a lot of feelings, most of which are not good. If anyone else has any further points on why this is Not Great™️ feel free to add on.

First off there are so many issues with Hiyori being a shinki. God’s greatest secret? How is she supposed to interact with anyone except the gods and the very few shinki who know the secret and survived. It’s waaaay too risky to reveal it to her and just hope that she survives it. if she interacts with any other shinki it runs the risk of them becoming curious about their own lives and names because they knew her while she was alive and know her living name.

And then thematically it just makes no sense. The entire point of the hospital arc was to show us she needs to live! She’s only sixteen. She has her whole life ahead of her and her throwing it away to be on the far shore is a complete spit in the face to everything this manga has said beforehand. It’s also a spit in the face to Yukine’s arc who spent all this time grieving the life he never got to live because he died so young. Now our main character, who desperately wanted to live, to return to her family, to live her dream of becoming a doctor, is gonna have all that taken from her? When the whole fucking point was how much the shinki wanted to live? It turns the entire story, which up until now was about hope and overcoming the past, into a tragedy. A full on tragedy with basically no hope or silver lining or anything.

Not a single character (except trashdad) wanted this for Hiyori. They all warned her about it. They all desperately wanted her to live her full happy life on the near shore because death is a tragedy. Yes shinki like Yukine, Kazuma, and Nana may come to accept it and find their peace with it and find a life they can love on the far shore but that doesn’t negate the tragedy of death. That they were all taken too soon. That Yukine never got to see his sister again or even grow up, that Kazuma never got to get married or run his family’s business, Nana couldn’t protect her home or grow up or save her father. Their lives were stolen from them.

Death is always a tragedy. It’s unfair and cruel. No matter how one may come to terms with it. That’s been the whole fucking point of the manga since day one.

“When someone dies you can never see them again” it’s right there in Sakura’s quote.

There’s literally no way to spin this into even a bittersweet ending much less a happy ending. Not without going against literally everything this manga has stood for up until now. So the only other option is to go full blown everything is cruel and unfair and there is no hope and Yato really does just bring calamity to everyone he loves and trashdad was right all along. There is no light at the end of the tunnel, no silver lining. Just- NOTHING! Seriously this fucks over Yato’s entire character. It literally proves Father right. Everyone Yato loves dies. He really does just spread calamity to all.

You really expect them to be happy together when every time Yato looks at “Shiro” he’ll have to remember how he failed to save Hiyori, failed to protect her, how this innocent little girl who had her entire life ahead of her was murdered by his father simply because they loved each other? Because he couldn’t cut ties with her, couldn’t let her go. Like it’s horrible. Just absolutely horrible. There’s no hope here.

Because death is a tragedy no matter what.

[heavyhitterheaux]

Funny Seeing You Here Part 2

AN: Jackman didn't know what he had until he lost it, also this takes place during the TWTAS era and Funny Seeing You Here is a bonus track that was not on the album

Synopsis: After learning that your boyfriend cheated on you multiple times and Urban covering for him, you realized that you deserve better. However, one person might bring the two of you back together

Pairing: Ex-boyfriend!Jack Harlow x Ex-girlfriend!Reader

Read part 1 first

Thank you @mortirolo​ for helping me 😘

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Time felt like it had been moving in slow motion with everything that happened.

The person that you would have done anything for cheated on you and acted as if you didn’t mean anything to him.

While someone you considered to be a brother was covering for him and tried to make sure that he didn’t get caught by you.

It took some time, but you were better.

Not great, but better.

Once you had gotten back home, you immediately packed up all of you belongings and there was no trace left of you in the apartment that you once shared with them.

It was easy for you to disappear and cut off ties to anyone who was associated with Jack but with Urban as well.

You blocked all of their numbers, deleted your social media accounts, and moved to a whole new state.

You admit that it was hard leaving Kentucky because it was all that you have ever known, but there were too many places that served as memories to happy times that you had with him.

Happy times that you knew were a thing of the past.

The entire care ride home after catching him, your phone didn’t stop ringing between both him and Urban calling you.

You ignored them each time and meant it when you said that you didn’t want them to talk to you for as long as they lived.

Jack cheating on you obviously hurt, but a whole different level of hurt was added when Urban was now involved.

Urban was your godbrother and he would protect you at all costs and look out for you and you felt that there was no coming back from this level of betrayal.

You would think that Urban would have told you, but you had lost enough sleep going over the multiple scenarios in your head.

You had been back home in Kentucky for a few days and you had promised one of your really good friends, Blanca, that you would stay with her and go to her birthday dinner.

This was your first time being back in 7 months and you honestly didn’t know how to feel.

You avoided or tried to avoid every single place that reminded you of him.

Which was basically impossible.

“Hey, you almost ready to go?” Blanca asked walking into the guest bedroom where you were staying. You were trying to decide on what to wear seeing as a lot of your favorite clothes didn’t quite fit how they used to anymore.

“Almost, I think I’ll go with this black one with my pink cardigan over it and my ballerina flats. The heels are definitely a no go for the night.”

“That’ll be cute. I can help you with your hair too.”

Blanca was shifting her weight back and forth in the doorway and you immediately knew that something was on her mind.

“Out with it, Blanca. You hover when you have something to tell me and usually it’s something that I’m not going to like.”

“I… I would have told you before you came back but I knew if I did, that you wouldn’t have and I missed you.”

“Blanca….”

“I invited Jack and Urban.”

Silence.

“Y/N, please. They’re my friends too. And you never even told me what happened.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Obviously it does because of the look on your face. I can’t help if you don’t tell me what happened between the two of you. Like, Jack and Urban basically turned Kentucky upside down looking for you after he came back and the tour was over. I obviously didn’t say anything and knew you needed time for yourself.”

“I’ll tell you tomorrow. I’m not going to have you focus on other things on your birthday. We need to be celebrating you and not worrying about my love life or lack there of.” Just then Blanca’s dog Panchito came to hop up and lay across your lap.

“You are literally the only person that this dog likes. He doesn’t even like me.”

“I have the magic touch I guess.”

“But you are telling me tomorrow and there is no way that you’re getting out of it.”

You simply sighed before trying to slip on your cardigan with Panchito still in your lap.

“Y/N, my goddaughter deserves to know her father, don’t you think?” Blanca asked as she looked down at your protruding stomach as you rested your right hand on top of it.

“I guess you’re right.”

It was around eight and you and Blanca had just arrived at the restaurant. You already couldn’t wait to sit down because your feet were killing you even though you decided to wear flats. Everyone met in the lobby area before Blanca spoke to the hostess to let her know that everyone was here and that all of you were ready to be seated. 

Jack and Urban didn’t even recognize you

Maybe it was the hair

It was a completely different color and a lot shorter

Once you made your way to the table, someone decided to take it upon themselves and be polite and pull out your chair for you

No one other than Jack himself

He looked up at you and did a double take

“Y/N?”

“In the flesh, thank you.” You said as he helped you to scoot in the chair to get as close to the table as your stomach would allow.

“Um, no problem. It’s uh good to see you.”

“Hmm, I’m sure it is.”

As you and Blanca were discussing the menu and she was trying to make sure that you got something healthy for you and your little one, Urban sent a text to Jack.

Urb- is that? Is that HER?!?

Jack- yes, she looks amazing and um is she dating anyone?

Urb- How am I supposed to know? She cut me off just like she did you but umm…

Jack- What?

Urb- Come on don’t make me say it

Jack- I’m confused

Urb- THAT IS YOUR BABY THAT SHE’S PREGNANT WITH, HOW CAN IT NOT BE? SHE LOOKS TOO FAR ALONG AND WHAT WE HAVEN’T SEEN HER IN ALMOST 7 MONTHS?

Jack-......

Just then all of the color drained from Jack’s face as he looked over at you, back at your stomach, and back to Urban who shook his head.

“Y/N, it’s good to see you.” Urban said while finally getting enough courage to speak to you. 

“You too, Urban.”

“So umm, Y/N, when did you get back to Louisville?”

You glanced up from your strawberry lemonade to look at him.

“About a week ago.”

“And you weren’t even going to tell me?”

“Tell you for what, Jack? It’s not like we talk often or at all for that matter.”

“I just thought…. I don’t know because we would both be here tonight and maybe you wanted to talk beforehand?”

“I didn’t know you would be here until me and Blanca were about to get in the car. But I should have known since I know the two of you are close with her too.”

“Well, how have you been? I see you’re um very pregnant. You look amazing by the way.” Jack literally couldn’t believe it was you sitting next to him. 

“I’ve been fine and thank you.”

“And you’re wearing that perfume I bought you too.”

“It’s my favorite so I figured why not?”

“I’m honestly surprised that you still have it.”

“Why?”

“Well…. You know…”

“The perfume did nothing to me, but on the other hand you did so I got rid of the one that hurt me.”

“And I’m sorry for that.”

“Jack, not now.”

“Then when?”

“We are here to celebrate Blanca. This is her night and we aren’t going to talk about whatever went on between us.”

“But I… okay just one question.”

“What?”

“I don’t see a wedding ring on your finger and…”

“Jackman, it's been seven months.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. People meet and get married in like a week. But who are you talking to now?”

“Why is that any of your business?”

“Because I want to make things right if you give me a chance.”

“Jack…..”

“Y/N… look I didn’t realize what I had until I lost it and I need to fix this.”

“What if I don’t want it to be fixed?” You asked as Jack’s appetizer of mozzarella sticks were placed on the table, without even thinking, he placed a few in front of you.

That was always the thing between the two of you.

Didn’t matter where you would go out to eat, you always ordered mozzarella sticks and shared them.

Without realizing what he had done until you looked at him and he got wide eyes.

“Oh, I just thought…”

“I know, and thank you. It’s been awhile since I had some so I see old habits die hard.”

“How’s your sister? Your niece? Is she still crying a lot?”

“They’re both fine. She doesn’t cry as much anymore, she was getting spoiled and we needed to break her out of it.”

Just then you felt yourself getting overwhelmed and promptly pushed yourself away from the table, Blanca looked over at you in concern.

“Hey, you okay?”

“I’m fine, I just did some fresh air, that’s all.”

“I’ll go with her.” Jack immediately piped up and followed you outside, once the cool crisp night air hit your face, you felt as though you could breathe again.

“You okay?” Jack asked, concerned.

“I’m fine, thank you.”

“Um, I have another question.”

“Seems like you’re full of them tonight.”

“How far along are you?”

Oh, shit.

“Why do you ask?”

“I’m just curious, Y/N.”

Silence.

“The baby is mine, isn’t it?”

Silence.

“Y/N, answer me.”

“Yes.”

“And you weren’t even going to tell me?!”

“I was ready to raise her by myself because of what you did to me. I found out after I had gotten back and I wanted nothing to do with you. Even her fucking sonogram pictures, she looks like you and no matter how much I tried to get away from you, nothing worked.”

“That isn’t an excuse! So, you were just going to keep her from me?”

“No! Well….. I don’t know!”

“You don’t know?!”

“Look, you know now and you can do whatever you want with that information.”

“I want to raise her with you!”

“I’m not moving back to Louisville so you can get rid of that idea immediately.”

“Why not? That’s what we talked about!”

“We talked about that before you fucking cheated on me and Urban covered for you!”

Just then Jack’s eyes went wide and you turned around to see that you were now face to face with Blanca who wanted to come and check on the both of you. From the look on her face, you knew that she had heard and that she was about to kill the both of them.

“Blanca….” Jack softly said and she was shooting literal daggers at him.

“You cheated on her? And Urban covered for you?”

“Umm…”

“You are such an asshole! No wonder why she ran away from here and literally begged for me not to tell you where she was!”

“YOU KNEW WHERE SHE WAS THIS WHOLE TIME?!”

“Of course I knew! But she never told me what your dumbass did!”

“Blanca, come on, let's just go back inside.” You were pleading with her. 

“Nah, I’m about to go get Panchito and let him have his way with both of their asses! Like how fucking dare you!”

“Well, how dare you not tell me that she was pregnant with my kid!”

“Cut the shit, Jackman! That was not my place! Looks like I did a good job with protecting her from your toxic ass!”

Just then Urban came outside to see what was going on between the three of you.

“What’s going on?” He curiously asked.

“Y/N is pregnant with my baby and Blanca knew where she was the entire time.”

“And I don’t regret hiding it. Urban, I’m about to kill you too. That’s your got damn godsister. Does that not mean anything to you?”

“It does….”

“Obviously it didn’t. I see why she didn’t want to be around either of you. All I’m going to say is Jack you better take care of my goddaughter or else and Urban you have a lot of making up to do for her to forgive you. I’m going back inside and I just….. Y/N… baby I am so sorry that you got knocked up by him.”

“BLANCA!”

“Jack, I will let Panchito loose on you. I said what I said. I’ll let you be adults and work it out, but if Y/N comes back in there crying, I am killing both of you.”

Once Blanca had gone back inside, there was an awkward silence between all three of you.

“Look, I just want her to be taken care of.”

“And I’ll do that. I’ll take care of both of you.”

“But, I can’t trust you, Jack.”

—

You were now back home in Savannah, Georgia and had been for about a week.

You honestly didn’t know how to feel and was taking it one step at a time

Phone numbers had been unblocked and communication was beginning to happen like it was before when you two had first started dating

You wanted the best for your daughter, but you weren’t sure if you were willing to open up your heart back to him

Does he deserve a second chance?

Just then Blanca sent you a text and you quickly opened it to read it

Blanca- Jack wrote a song about you

You- What?

All Blanca did was send a link for you to listen to it and you eagerly clicked it

I know you hate the way we drifted

But we both decide this party and we lived it

So what's up?

I'ma sip my drink and crack a big smile

Just to see if I can still get you 'cause it's been a while, yeah

It's been a minute now

Your friend just started listening to my music but I been in style

You say that I play too much but we both know I been a child

Asked you when you got to town

You say that you been in town, it's fucked up

So you just wasn't gon' hit me?

Lookin' like this, she thought it wasn't gon' tempt me

I'm sorry but you ain't gotta Barbie up

You should come and step into my world just like Narnia

I wouldn't do no harm to you

Come on, let's find a quiet spot

How's your sister and your niece? Does she still cry a lot?

Who you talkin' to now? Are y'all 'bout to tie a knot?

Hope not, speak now, hold yo' peace, I will make that show stop

Remember back when I would come and spend the night at yo' house

Wake up by myself in bed 'cause you be at the stove top

Walk inside the kitchen put my hands up, let me stop

Please excuse me, I know these are heavy thoughts

A man's greed can't see the things that he's already got

Fucked it up between us 'cause I wanted you and every thot

Things would only worsen when you left me rock

Your bestie tried to warn you but you told her that, "He said he stopped"

He used to say her man was trash and tell me 'bout the way he'd act

I would shake my head until I realized I'm the same as that

Now I wonder, did she tell her man that I'm a trash dude?

And would he shake his head until he realized he was trash too?

I know this reunion's unexpected, but it's past due

At least if you ask me, I won't ask you

So what you 'bout to do?

I know you hate the way we drifted

But we both decide this party and we lived it

So what's up?

Just then your phone went off indicating that Jack was calling you.

“Hello?”

Taglist:

@harlowsbby

@babyharleezy

@hoodharlow

@stefansalvatoresgf

@jackiehollanderr

@primadxna-girl

@dessmxsworld

@cockslutslurper3000

@raelorns21​

@variety-fangirl​

@gbaabyyyy

@kamorsstuff

@harlowthot

@sinsandsuccubus

@curlyhairclub

@bootlegroach

@haylexo10

@thinkingaboutjharlow

@fluidsentiment

@charli123456789

@moody4world

@yourstrulymayah

@yana4life

@beanbagbitch

@alinaharlow

@carma-fanficaddict

@minaxcarter

@arination99

@xjup1t3r

@venusvinc

@jacksmoviestar

@jackharloww

@midnight-star47

@minkookie95

@inluvwithladybug

@tynesharandolph8633-blog

@exoticr0ses

@jharlowsangels

@jackierose902109

@jackmansbabymama

@cmalass

@megawhoree

@softtcurse

@sia2raw

@miniaturehideoutmentality

@hoya122

@nattinatalia

@jackslover12

@skyesthebomb

@jackharlows-world

@louisianalady

@fdl305

@automaticpeachsong

@harlowcomehome

@gassyandsassy1

@babygirlwilly

@amethyst09

@harrycanyonmoonn

@toocriticalharlow

@liv2sworld

@tattered-tales​

@sisiking99

@dessxoxsworld

[futureslaps]

The Captive - Chapter 30

Chapter 29

30 Chapters!

Apologies for how long this one took, I've been really busy these past few weeks, so it’s harder for me to find the time to write. I hope the wait was worth it though, I loved writing this chapter!

For what was probably the tenth time that day, Kiri once again made her way to the infirmary to see if there was any news on Spider. By now, it was already midday, and it had been hours since Norm and Max had begun the operation. It felt like every minute that passed, the tightness in her stomach only grew.

Why was this taking so long?

It couldn’t be good that there was no news, right?

What happens if they can’t save the arm…?

The questions had been on repeat in Kiri’s mind for hours. Maybe this time she’d get answers.

She spotted Ronal outside the infirmary, tending to the moderate wounds several warriors had received during Quaritch’s escape attempt. With most of the infirmary cordoned off, the work had to be done outdoors for the time being.

“Ronal, I see you.”

The Tsahik spent a few seconds finishing some stitches on a cut, muttered something to the warrior, then finally stood back up and turned to Kiri.

“Kiri, I see you.”

As soon as the greeting was over, Kiri asked the same question as usual.

“Any news about Spider? What’s happening?”

Silently, she desperately hoped that there was finally something new, but the look on Ronal’s face answered her question before the Tsahik even spoke.

“I am sorry, there is still nothing.”

Kiri sighed, closing her eyes as the brief moment of hope once again faded, giving way to the now-familiar worry. She felt tears gather in her eyes…

“You need to find something to do, it will help ease the burden on your mind.”

Kiri jumped slightly as Ronal lay a hand on her shoulder. She opened her eyes, looking downwards. If she could do anything to help Spider, she would. But for the moment, it felt like she was completely powerless. She had some basic healing experience from her mom, but she knew nothing about the kind of procedure the scientists were doing.

Suddenly, a thought formed in her head.

“What happened to Quar…er…the Demon?”

Kiri had been so worried about Spider, she hadn’t thought about the fate of the Recom.

Ronal hummed, and for a moment, Kiri felt her worry grow. If Quaritch was dead, then Spider…

Before she could finish the thought, Ronal answered.

“The Demon gave up his fight when Spider was injured. We have bound him completely, and he will remain bound until his trial.”

Kiri didn’t miss a strange, thoughtful look on Ronal’s face, but she didn’t stop to consider the meaning.

“He can’t eat, right? His hands are tied up?”

Ronal nodded in confirmation, raising an eyebrow at the line of questioning.

“I…I can bring him food.” Kiri proposed. She prepared herself to argue her case, convince Ronal it would be fine. But surprisingly, Ronal just nodded again.

“Very well. You may bring him the usual stew. Be careful, even though he is tied up.”

Kiri stared in confusion for a moment. She couldn’t help but be shocked at Ronal agreeing so quickly. The Tsahik seemed to sense the same thing.

“I think it would be best if you were to do this.”

Kiri felt slightly uneasy as Ronal gave her a seemingly knowing look.

Kiri knew Ronal had talked with her father. What had he said to her? Did Ronal know something about Quaritch? What was this about…?

Kiri shook off the surprise and nodded back to Ronal.

“I’ll go do it now.”

The Tsahik smiled.

“I will send someone to find you if I hear anything on Spider’s condition.”

“Thank you.”

Kiri nodded again, then turned to leave, still wondering about Ronal’s reaction.

(…)

Quaritch groaned as his eyes shot open. He’d somehow managed to nod off.

For a brief moment, he instinctively tried to move, straining against the binds that held him still. Then, he remembered his situation, and slumped. He let out a small sigh as he closed his eyes again.

He was exhausted, sore, and miserable. He was covered in sweat from the midday sun beating down on him. The various gashes and bruises he’d received last night stung and throbbed, the pain flaring up from his brief struggle against the ropes. His stomach ached with hunger pangs.

At this rate, maybe he’d die right here before his so-called trial even arrived. It would save him from that last humiliation at least. Rob Sully of the chance to kill him. But there was still Spider to think about…

Quaritch desperately wanted to see his son, even if from a distance. At the very least, he would know that the kid had survived, something which had been uncertain the last time they’d been together…

The Recom put the thought out of his mind and tried to sleep again. All he could do for now was pass the time. His position was supremely uncomfortable, but at this point he was so tired he may just power through it anyways. He turned his face away from the hot sun as best he could and tried to steady his breath. He focused on the sound of the nearby ocean…

Just as he felt himself start to doze off, he heard footsteps approaching him. He tried to act like he was unconscious, hoping to make the chief, or Sully, or whoever it was give him peace. But the footsteps kept coming and stopped right in front of him. A hand lightly tapped his shoulder.

Quaritch cursed under his breath and opened his eyes. They grew slightly wide when they realized who was standing in front of him.

It was the Sully girl…Kiri.

He stared at the teenage Na’vi, unsure of what to do. For a moment, she returned the look. Then, she offered a slight smile.

“So…how are you?”

Quaritch couldn’t help but chuckle slightly.

“I’m just great, kid.”

Kiri looked the beat-up Recom up and down.

“You don’t seem great.”

Quaritch groaned.

“Just tell me what you want, kid. I’m not exactly in a talking mood.”

Kiri gestured to a bowl set down next to her.

“Are you hungry?”

Quaritch smiled slightly. He was hungry, but his current situation meant he couldn’t eat.

“I appreciate the gesture…Kiri. But I ain’t exactly able to eat like this.”

Kiri picked up the bowl, and a small spoon.

“I’ll feed you.”

Anger flared in Quaritch. Was this some new plan to humiliate him further? Feeding him? He narrowed his eyes, ignoring the pain in the one that’d been punched.

“Not a chance, kid. Get lost.”

“You can’t just stand here and starve!” Kiri protested. She looked down for a moment, then, smiling slightly, said something else.

“Do it for Spider.”

Quaritch’s heart jumped. How could he have forgotten? Kiri was the only other person that knew the extent of his relationship with his son. And even more importantly, she knew what state his son was in.

He glanced around, making sure Sully wasn’t hiding somewhere, then hissed back.

“What’s Spider’s condition. Tell me!”

Kiri looked at him indignantly.

“Eat this stew, and I’ll tell you.”

Quaritch growled. He hated the idea, but what choice did he have?

“Goddamn it…fine! Just not the spoon, I’ll drink it from the bowl.”

Kiri nodded, then lifted the bowl, straining slightly to reach the much taller Recom’s mouth. Quaritch grumbled, then steeled himself and started gulping down the stew as fast as he could. It was still a bit too hot to eat comfortably, but he didn’t care.

Once he was done, he looked back to Kiri.

“Alright. Now, tell me. Is Spider alright?”

Kiri set the bowl down, then sat beside it, suddenly looking more somber.

“I…I don’t know.”

Quaritch growled again, but fear filled his mind.

“You don’t know? What’s that supposed to mean? You don’t know if he’s dead or alive?”

“No, no, he’s alive.” Kiri responded quickly, looking down. “It’s just…that…”

Quaritch stared down at her as she grew silent.

“What? What happened? Tell me, damnit!”

“He might lose his arm.” Kiri choked out.

“What…?” Quaritch tried to search for a way to ask for more details, but Kiri answered before he could finish.

“Norm and Max came, they said…the arrow shattered his bones. They’re doing a surgery now, to see if they can fix it.”

Norm and Max?

Science guys, from back at Hell’s Gate, Quaritch recalled. They’d also been on his list of people to find, but he wasn’t worried about that now. He looked at Kiri, waiting for more information. When she stayed silent, he spoke.

“Well?”

The girl looked up.

“What’s happening? Is it working?” Quaritch didn’t bothering masking the desperation in his voice.

Kiri closed her eyes, wiping a tear away.

“I told you; I don’t know. We haven’t heard anything since they started.”

She let out a shuddering sigh of her own and fell silent again. Quaritch followed suit, slumping in his restraints. His head spun with the new information. Spider was alive, at least. But the thought of his son being left an amputee at 16 was a gut punch.

They both remained quiet for what seemed like forever, just taking in the day’s events.

“What…happened last night, exactly?” Kiri asked quietly.

Quaritch raised an eyebrow slightly as he looked at her.

“You don’t know already?”

“Well, I kind of do, but…” She seemed to stop herself for a moment. “I want to hear another perspective.”

Quaritch thought for a moment.

“Well, I was trying to save Spider from Sully. The locals showed up while I was fighting your old man and they had us surrounded. That’s when the arrow hit.”

“Save Spider? What do you mean?”

The Recom pursed his lips.

“Well…um…Spider was…visiting me last night, and Sully found him out. I had to try to save him after that.”

Kiri drew her breath in sharply at the new information, making Quaritch more intrigued, though he didn’t show it.

The girl was silent for another few moments, deep in thought. Then, she asked one more question.

“What did Spider say to you?”

Now, it was Quaritch’s turn to consider his next words carefully.

Should he tell the truth?

Should he say anything at all?

Kiri didn’t miss the long pause, looking up at the Recom with concern in her face. Finally, Quaritch made up his mind. He took a deep breath…

“Spider wanted me to break out and leave with him. We’d escape together.”

“He…wanted to leave…” Kiri spoke slowly.

Quaritch couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness when he saw Kiri’s reaction. The Na’vi girl’s ears drooped, and her eyes were clearly glistening with tears. But she nodded slowly.

“I…I understand.”

“I tried to tell him to stay away.” Quaritch continued, feeling the need to say more. “I told him it was risky, but he wouldn’t listen. And now…this.”

After a short pause, he continued.

“He’d never have stayed away though. He had too much heart for that. He couldn’t bare leaving me there, waiting for me to die.

Kiri smiled.

“That’s Spider.”

“How could I just stand by after all that?” Asked the recom rhetorically. “He was in danger. He was counting on me. It’s…”

He paused, searching for the words.

“A lot has changed in the past two weeks.”

Kiri looked at him seriously.

“You should say all this in your trial. Tell the people what you told me. Make them understand…all this.”

Quaritch smirked slightly.

“You’re naïve, kid. Me and Sully’s fight goes way back. There’s no ‘understanding’ to be done. It just ain’t possible.”

“It was for me. I still understood.” Kiri said, thoughtful, but serious.

“This ain’t the same.” Quaritch shook his head. “You haven’t lost people the way me and Sully have.”

Kiri raised an eyebrow slightly, giving the Recom a knowing look.

“You…don’t know who my mom was, do you?”

Quaritch narrowed his eyes, confused.

“I thought you were Sully’s kid.”

“I was adopted.” Kiri explained. “My mom was Grace Augustine.”

Quaritch’s eyes widened.

Grace Augustine’s had a kid?

A Na’vi kid?

She hadn’t been pregnant. Ever. How…

But as Quaritch looked at Kiri with the new information, he couldn’t deny the resemblance. Hell, he felt stupid for not seeing it sooner. The girl practically looked like a carbon copy of Augustine in her younger days.

“Holy Jesus.” He muttered quietly, too shocked to respond properly.

Kiri stood up to leave.

“I have to talk with my parents. About Spider.” After a moment, she added: “Please consider what I said. Don’t hide the truth.”

As she left, Quaritch could only stare, dumbfounded.

IIRC, Quaritch never learned that Kiri was Grace’s daughter. 

Thanks for reading. I know a lot of people were looking forward to another meeting between these two, so I hope I didn’t disappoint. 

Lots of drama still to come!

Taglist: @yesthisismycurrenthyperfixation @onlyreadz @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @buzzing-honeybee @babyymeme

[epersonae]

You've made me mad with power. Director's Cut of "I Spit On Your Grave", please.

Obviously I wanted -- no, needed -- to write a fic where Stede finds out what actually happened with Izzy while he was gone.

It is a key aspect of my Bad Ending fic in case I never make it through to where you are that Stede does NOT know, because I think otherwise he would have actually killed Izzy in that fic. I had a lovely long conversation with my therapist about that, both that fic generally and this question of knowing what was done to someone you love who is gone. Because HOOBOY did s2 kick up all my feelings about Ryn's parents, especially their mother; there was a piece of information that I found out after Ryn died that made me so angry I did seriously have a full-blown panic attack about it.

So yeah, I was always going to write something, but part of my writing process especially with shorter works is that I need a hook, something to get me into it -- an image or a sentence, something concrete to pull together whatever messy ideas have been spinning around in the blender.

And of course, I might have written it sooner (and it would have been a different fic) but I did break my leg right before Christmas, and that basically took me out not just physically but also mentally for about two months. I actually started making some notes in late January but I didn't have any stamina to do the writing until late February.

I knew the hook was going to be a bit back from the actual harm -- I've been fascinated by this question of how Izzy never says that "his captain" is actually Blackbeard since way back in my first watches of the show, and then there's kind of a running joke around here about how Stede always leads describing the meet-cute with "so I'd been gut-stabbed" like babygirl what. And the phrase "just happened upon our ship" or whatever that is, when MY DUDE HE'S BEEN FOLLOWING YOU THIS WHOLE TIME. The whole thing has this mix of Izzy having been lying through his teeth and Stede being hilariously oblivious that cries out for something to dig into.

And then I saw this post by @iamadequate1, and OH OKAY. Because weaponized therapy language and isolation in emotional abuse is something that, well. Yeah. Plus it had all the relevant bits of dialogue in one post! Plus I'd been thinking about Izzy as an unreliable narrator for almost two years, and I'd been thinking specifically about people with uhhhhhh a "flexible relationship with the truth" (to use a line from the fic), and a tendency to say different things to different people in order to evade responsibility.

So I made some notes, according to the document history at the end of January, and then probably either went back to sleep or back to watching Perry Mason. Came back to it in late February, and the first two-thirds or so came together pretty quickly and then I got stuck. I knew I wanted something with Stede yelling at the grave, but I'd sort of written myself into a corner where that didn't seem to be happening. (Basically, got to the point where he holds Ed while Ed is crying.)

And then I saw THIS post by @celluloidbroomcloset, and something clicked together about "doggie heaven" and the parallel with Ned Low, and somehow that was the rug that tied the room together. Probably because also they're both dead, Izzy and Ned, and that leads to this question of the impossibility of revenge, and that so much of the time there's just nothing you can do, really, and that also hurts. Even if they're not dead; there's just no point, like what the fuck are you gonna do, exactly? Which is sort of where the Mary parallel comes in, I think, and also not giving Izzy credit for bringing them together, because that's all them.

All in all this is a really special fic for me, trying to find this balancing point where things are pretty good for them, actually, but they still need to work through their respective hurts and be properly seen -- fill in all the blanks so they can move forward.

[danidandandadididan]

Monte headcanons 🤤

1. Do you want me to say it? You want me to say it, you knew what you were asking for. I won’t say it

2. Has a blue brojanica + wooden SPS cross

3. The SPS cross is special cause he tied it around himself long ago, and obviously it broke through the centuries, so the knot holding it got so short he can no longer take the cross off of himself unless he cuts it

4. Stupidly lazy but also stupidly intelligent

5. “I’d always ask a lazy person to do something, cause they’d find the easiest way to do it” sums it up pretty well

6. Didn’t have it that bad during the Ottoman period unlike the other yugos

7. Can probably make the best Cicvara you’ve ever eaten

8. But don’t let him cook anything else

9. Whenever he says Ś instead of Š someone cringes

10. Idriza manhandles him

11. Našta pade kuća Petrovića

12. Ilija is the literature fan while Monte is the one writing

13. Once he got a few of his best works stolen he gave up

14. Not a HC but why the name Šćepan when Njegoš was literally right there

15. Dog person

16. Smaller eyes though still a tiny bit slanted

17. Was probably a bigger serbian nationalist than Vuk at one point, don’t bring it up though

18. As I previously mentioned he was basically Ilija’s father figure for a while, and he still kind of has the same mentality and Enis hates him for it

19. MonteHerze was real at one point though it kind of dissipated in modern times

20. Though when it was real it wasn’t anything too hardcore and they probably had sex like twice across 7 centuries

21. He has that Mediterranean tan… i think

22. Centuries of watching cockfighting taught him to aim for the jugular

23. Also knows the Gorski Vijenac book by memory

24. Very specific eyebrows I can’t explain unless i draw them

25. There’s a Montenegrin (And Bosnian) saying that whenever you shake hands with a Herzegovinian you should check if you still have all of your fingers left. I’m just saying that whenever he used to hold hands with Hercegovina he’d let go just to count how many fingers he had, Idriza threatened to actually take one afterwards

26. Professional Guslar

27. Way too proud of himself

28. Traditionalist, just a blanket statement to say he might also be a misogynist

29. Bisexual.. maybe preference for men.. but still somehow heteroromantic

[sodium-chloride-blog]

Forgot to type up the red team face hc's thought process, but I'm back from Quebec now, so...

Sarge was — fittingly — the biggest enigma. His design came to me almost instantly, and he went through basically zero changes. Somehow I realized there wasn't really anything for me to add except for maybe a few extra scars as time went on. The first design felt accurate right off the bat.

Somehow I just knew the first design I drew up for him was also the only design necessary. dude just looks like that.

I had a bit of a harder time figuring out what to do for Grif, but I had a few designs I had in mind and used them all the same way I did for Tucker.

Shorter hair in BGC like everyone else, except I gave him some stubble too because Grif would 100% rarely ever bother to shave.

Obviously added the stitches where Sarge used bits of Simmons to stitch Grif back together.

Hair grown out by the time the Recollection trilogy starts up, casually tied up in a messy bun because Grif definitely wouldn't put in the effort to cut it.

Finally a full on ponytail and much more facial hair by Chorus by the time he's matured and gained some confidence.

I was admittedly a little conflicted on whether to give Grif a bun for Recollection or Chorus, since putting his hair up might have been visually symbolic of his character development as he starts to put in effort for things/people he cares about. I'm still unsure if I made the right call leaving the bun in Recollection Grif's design and letting his hair grow out in Chorus.

Lopez is just Lopez lmao

Simmons felt somewhat easier since I had a clearer idea of what I wanted him to look like from beginning to end.

Same military-appropriate length haircut in BGC as everyone else.

Freckles because they just fit perfectly on him.

Awkward nerd smile, complete with dimples and long face/nose for maximum nerdy charm (or lack thereof).

Slightly grown out hair but not too much by Recollection, plus he has the cybernetic replacements on his face now. I tried to make the pupil on his cyborg eye more rectangular than his natural eye but I don't think it's very noticeable.

Finally grew out his bangs. I was torn between this haircut and the shorter, nerdier one, so I used them both. Plus he finally grows some facial hair by Chorus as he matures into his own person.

I like the idea that Simmons gradually growing his hair out past what the acceptable length is in the UNSC is a good representation of how he's grown as a person and doesn't adhere to the rules as strictly as he did in BGC. Something about becoming less of a suck-up and gaining confidence in his own choices and leadership.

Thought it would be a neat detail that he eventually gets a scar through the eyebrow that matches the one I gave Sarge.

Please please PLEASE tell me someone noticed where Grif and Simmons are each looking.

I struggled with Donut's design the most since he seems to have the most variation in design. I knew I wanted baby-faced blonde for BGC but coming up with a design that felt right afterwards was rough.

I ended up going through a few sketches for Donut before settling on a face with rounded cheeks and nose for a sort of boyish look.

By Recollection he has the face scars thanks to the plasma grenade. I ended up keeping Donut facing left even though it covered the hearing aid since I didn't want to throw off the balance on the page. (sorry)

I also had to give him an ear piercing. I just had to.

Some hair probably got burned off thanks to the explosion, so I imagine Donut probably gave himself an undercut on the undamaged side to make the hairstyle symmetrical. I don't think Donut had access to any hair dye during Recollection, so chances are his roots started to grow out.

By Chorus I wanted him to fully accept his face scars, so he ditched the eyepatch by then. Self love, baby.

His eyebrow on his scarred side has somewhat grown back by then, but not completely. The same goes for Donut's hair, though I imagine it grew out just enough for Donut to settle on a very stylish slicked back undercut, cuz y'know. 🫳💁‍♂️✨🌈

Donut got most of his character development post-Chorus during The Shisno Trilogy which is... Technically retconned now(?) thanks to Reconstruction coming out this Fall, so the last design for Donut probably would have fit season 15-17 more than Chorus when he really grew into his own. However, I think the design still works for Chorus to show how he matured over time.

ngl I kinda just threw something together for Doc. I couldn't really think of a design for him since there's a LOT of variation online. I'm not entirely happy with it, but it'll do for now unless I come up with something better later.

Maybe I'll draw more rvb characters sometime... Maybe the AI?

[andavs]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @thekristen999

How many works do you have on ao3? 21

What's your total ao3 word count? 380,201

What fandoms do you write for? Working on some 911 that I haven’t actually posted yet, and Teen Wolf, which has shifted to the back burner because Eddie Diaz took over my brain.

Top five fics by kudos: A Crooked Way to Fly Tabula Rasa Gift Trapped From Ashes The Guard and Red

Do you respond to comments? I fully intend to. And then my inbox is full of comment notifications from six years ago. I'm sorry I know I suck!!!

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I don’t think I’ve written an angsty ending? 

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? All of them, I think.

Do you get hate on fics? Occasionally someone will say they didn’t like the ending of Tabula Rasa, but that’s it. And I get it.

Do you write smut? Nah. Once I found out that the actors had seen my art (for both Teen Wolf and 911), that fourth wall imploded in my mind and now it makes me too uncomfortable.

Craziest crossover: I haven’t done proper crossovers, but I did a Sterek Shrek AU one time that was unexpected.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of. Someone once took a sketch, colored it in, and reposted it as their OCs, but that’s the closest.

Have you ever had a fic translated? I think so? I know people have asked to translate them, but I never actually checked after.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? As in putting my own words in a doc, no. But @petals42 and I collaborated a lot with brainstorming and plotting, and then she did the writing and I did the art.

All time favourite ship? To write? Tied between Sterek and Buddie. But I also love Veronica and Logan from Veronica Mars, and John and Aeryn in Farscape, even though I’ve never wanted to write or really read fic for them.

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will? My Teen Wolf season one rewrite! Stiles is Derek’s age and a deputy, and he and Derek knew each other in high school. I still love it, it was just a monster and I haven’t been in that mode for a long time. I still have hope! I want to! If only for my own satisfaction.

What are your writing strengths? I’ve been told I’m pretty good at in character dialogue, at least with Stiles’ voice, and that’s the part I enjoy the most.

What are your writing weaknesses? Descriptions and like…actual, genuine emotions, I think. Whenever I try to write the heavier stuff, it feels way too melodramatic and then I cut it way back to the point where it’s basically gone.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language? If there’s plenty of context around it so you can get the gist of what they’re saying, then it’s okay. Like in Oceans how Yen never speaks a word of English, but everyone else’s responses tell you what he was saying. Otherwise I tend to prefer things like, “He said in Spanish,” or “They argued in Spanish for a minute.” 

First fandom you wrote in? Either Alex Rider or School of Rock. 😬

Favourite fic you've written? I still really like this outsider pov fic. I fucking love outsider pov. I have a 911 outsider pov that’s been mostly done for like two years, but then I realized the actual team isn’t in it enough to make people want to read it, so it's just kind of sitting there.

Tagging: @kitkatpancakestack @wellhalesbells @mad-madam-m @tawaifeddiediaz @cinematicnomad @zainclaw

[chocmarss]

Involved With You

Summary:

“They don’t like me.”

Surprisingly, Din shifted in place. “It’s not that. They think we have enough. But I know the Empire as much as you do, and I know what they’re capable of. It’d be an advantage to have someone who could cut them down faster before they try anything else.”

“And that would be me,” Luke smiled. “I heard a squad of Mandalorians would have overtaken a whole cruiser. You’ve been capable warriors for hundreds of years. What can I even offer?”

the mandalorian. dinluke. acquaintance to lovers. rated E (18+). 11.8k+ words.

Based on 50 A Softer World Prompts.

We can finally reveal our @smut-wars-exchange fics, and here’s my gift to ancslove!

I cannot help but notice we are sitting-in-a-tree. So, you know, maybe we could think of something to do… verb-wise. (I want us to gerund, essentially.)

“Republic’s getting rid of the Donut.”

Mike didn’t stop wiping the pint in his hand as he squinted through the windows, the corner of his eyes wrinkling in a way that was too familiar. “Really?”

“Yeah,” the Sullustan said, still peering over his shoulder with his large black eyes, schadenfreude writhing in their depths. With the olive green faded and stained, the cuffed gloves he took off were starting to unravel at the seams. “It’s been, what, fifteen, twenty years since it was installed and then pebbled by ‘em kids? I lost count.”

The ‘pebbles’ were actually rocks that were the size of a Wookie’s fist, picked up from the remains of the construction site the Empire left behind with the rest of the trash after they built the thirty-floored spherical building with a hole in it. Rodents and wild animals resided in between the wreck and stank, and it had taken the quick action of their people to contain the sickness that took more than they should have gone through.

Someone had gotten hold of one of the trucks. A rock was tied to the paddle with a piece of rope, pressing onto the gas, and the people had witnessed the destruction the truck caused when it crashed through the transparisteel double doors of the main entrance.

Just less than a decade ago, that was where the elite and Imperial officers would hold their meetings; a spread of their finest local dishes with all varieties of smell and taste, spicy and sweet, their textures like honey that melted in their mouths. Toniray wine and attar of spinsilk would bubble in flute glasses, acting as barriers between senators who hated each other, lies upon lies flowing through their mouths like the bottomless drinks offered to them.

The people of Bastion turned even more remorseless.

Luke knew the Sullustan worked in the mines. He knew the older man was one of those who looked on when a crowd watched their fellow citizens wrecked justice on the eye-sore that leeched them of their basic rights to live and survive.

There was a certain satisfaction in watching a fascist regime collapse under their own hands. Whatever remaining Imperial disdain towards the working class, the poor, had fled with the rest of their friends, and Bastionans were more than happy to chase them off the planet with their roar of triumph.

“That long, huh?” Mike was already filling the pint with Corellian ale. “Feels shorter, sometimes.”

“Sometimes,” the Sullustan reminded him, taking a sip of his drink. “Most times, my blind tortoise would’ve moved faster, bless her little soul.

“Dread’s a hell of a drug, I’ll give you that,” Mike crossed the space and set the drink down in front of Luke. “Here ya go, Luke. One ale.”

READ MORE ON AO3

[sadlyghost]

Hi hello! I just saw your works about moon knight and I absolutely love it. The relationship you write between the character and the reader?? Absolutely fantastic. I wanna request marc with teen!reader (they're friends because the reader used to spend time at the museum steven used to work at). It's set after the ending of moonknight. the reader is attacked by one of the remaining Harrow's cult members in order to get information about marc and it's just, angst feelings. The two of them go Marc's apartment and he comforts the reader. It's kind of basic but I love to see how it turns out with you writing it. Thank you and have a good day!

[CONTENT WARNINGS]: Stalking, kidnapping, physical violence, injuries, death threats, ANGSTT, self depricating thoughts, crying.

Summary: You're attacked and kidnapped to get information about Marc. After he saves and comforts you, you learn who Moon Knight really is.

Pairing: Marc Spector x (platonic) Teen Reader

Words: 3.7k

A/N: If you want to skip most of the content warnings, then feel free to just read the second half (I really like the conversation I wrote between them haha).

Walking the city streets was like second nature to you. You had grown up in this area and called it your home. The local corner cafe was just one of your favourite parts of the area.

But walking the city streets at night, was a slightly different story. You knew the area well, so you had no fear of being lost. But that doesn't mean that the streets were free of people lurking around and waiting to hurt others.

While making your way down the streets, you began to feel the strangest feeling - as if you were being followed. A shiver up your spine, a moving shadow, a faint footstep. Your brain was suddenly on high alert and you began to notice anything unusual thing around you. You didn't want to look behind you incase someone really was following you. Surely you're brain was just spooking you out, right? Nevertheless, your heart rate still increased as your steps quickened.

You could see your destination at the end of the street. A small cafe, warm and safe.

A sound behind you startled you as you automatically whipped your head around to see a tall man walking towards you. His attire looked that of a normal citizen, but the expression on his face made your stomach churn. He wasn't racing towards you, just taking long strides as the distance between the two of you shortened.

You quickly came back to your senses and begun stepping faster down the street, glancing behind you every couple of steps to check if the man was still following you. He was.

In a state of panic and desperation, you quickly pulled out your phone, dialling the first number you could find. You began to run down he street as you held the phone to your ear, hoping to god that you were over thinking this and that you'd get home safetly.

Your call went through as Marc picked up.

"Hey kid, whats up?" he asks casually, not yet noticing your panicked breaths.

"Marc! I think someone is-" your voice cut off as the phone was hit out of your grip, a hand quickly covering your mouth as your arms were held behind your back, the man pulling you into the nearest alley way.

You struggled to pull away from the man, but he was just too strong, your efforts were for nothing. No matter how much you kicked and thrashed, screamed and hit, it had no effect. You were useless against the attacker.

You felt your body losing strength as the hand over your mouth restricted your oxygen. You could hear a faint voice from your cracked phone on the ground, probably Marc freaking out, but you couldn't make out the words as everything became just a meaningless blur and you passed out.

You woke up, head pounding and body weak. As your vision began to focus, and your mind cleared, you found that you were tied to a tree in the middle of a forest. A surge of panic passed through you as you immediately began to struggle against the rope around your wrists, pulling with your remaining energy, only to be left with a rope burn, no closer to escaping whatever horrible situation you had ended up in.

Your eyes became teary as you looked around in desperation.

"Help!" you called out, only hearing your own echo in return. "Someone help me!" you screamed. You heard footsteps approaching from somewhere behind you, though they didn't sound friendly at all. You recognised those long strides as the scary man who had been following you.

You squirmed more, trying again to pull from the ropes and away from the tree. The man towered over you and you froze, suddenly feeling very small, vulnerable and weak.

"I only wish my sins will be forgiven by Ammit when I finally find the man who ruined her plan for our perfect world," he says, his eyes staring into yours uncomfortably. You were confused, what was he even talking about?

"You know this man don't you? The one who ruined everything, the one who took Ammit away from me. The one who ruined our vision," he accuses. You quickly shake your head, feeling extremely fearful.

"N-no...I don't," your voice shakes.

"So you do not know a man by the name of Marc Spector?" he inquires. You freeze. Marc? What did Marc have to do with this? How did this scary guy even know about Marc?

The man noticed your shocked reaction, chuckling to himself.

"As I thought, you know the Moon Knight. Now, you are going to tell me the location of Marc Spector, so I can right his wrongs, or you are going to die."

Your confusion was only increasing. You had heard of Moon Knight, a new vigalante in the area but you hadn't put much thought into who it might be. Was this man insinuating that Marc was actually Moon Knight? There was no way that was possible. You wouldn't believe it.

The man steps even closer to you, harshly grabbing your face in with his hand.

"Tell me the location of Marc Spector!" he spits out. You try shrink away from him as you shake in fear, feeling extremely intimidated and threatened.

"I d-don't know...." you stutter out. It sounded like this guy wanted to hurt Marc. You couldn't let that happen. For as long as you could, you'd refuse to answer this man's questions. You had to protect Marc if that was the least you could do.

Meanwhile, Marc paced frantically, wracking his brain for possibilites of where you might be so that he could find you.

After you had called him and he heard you struggling in the background just before your phone disconnected, he immediately tracked down the location of your phone. Unsuprisingly, he found it near your favourite local cafe. What concerned him was the fact that it had been smashed and that you were no where to be found in the area. You were still young, so someone could of easily overpowered and taken you away.

Marc continued pacing back and forth in his apartment, holding your phone tightly in his hand. Whoever took you obviously had malicious intentions. Whatever the reason, it had to be bad. Where they took you, he had no idea. But he was desperate to find you and the only solution he could think of involved asking his least favourite god for help. Khonshu.

Putting his pride aside, he begged for the god to help find you. Khonshu, being the manipulative god that he is only agreed to help for a price.

"I will help find the human, Spector, but it will cost you," Khonshu says, voice deep and steady.

"Anything, I'll give you anything," Marc agrees, voice desperate. Who knows what could be happening to you while he searches. He needed to find you, and quickly.

"Your service to me will be extended," the god states unclearly. "That is the deal that I offer you. Do you accept?"

He had to accept the vauge offer, otherwise he had no hope of finding you. Whatever torment Khonshu had planned for Marc would be worth it, if only he could ensure you were safe.

"I accept," Marc agrees.

"I shall search for the human from the night skys. The sky can show me their location. I will inform you when they are found," Khonshu explains before disappearing.

You leaned weakly against the tree behind you. You could feel your wrists burning against the ropes after all of your struggling to escape.

The man who had captured you glared at you, him casually leaning against another tree trunk, his appearance only slightly illuminated by the moonlight peaking through the forest roof.

"If you tell me Marc Spectors location, I'm sure Ammit will forgive you of your own sins, as your actions will aid her in her goal," he states. You didn't understand who this Ammit person was. This man made no sense to you.

At your silence, he stepped away from the tree, slowly walking up to you, his expression darker than before.

"But if you continue to refuse to tell me, I will have to enact her punishment for her and cleanse the world of a sinner such as yourself," he threatens. You gulp and let out a shaky breath.

"Moon Knight is a violent vigilante. This Marc Spector is not the person you think he is. Now tell me his location!"

This man had to be lying. Marc couldn't be Moon Knight. He wouldn't hurt people like that.

"I won't tell you," you breath out in fear.

Your cheek burns as the man slaps you harshly. Your eyes tear up a bit from the pain.

"That is the wrong answer," he says darkly. "Now, give me the right one."

"N-no...." you whisper. Another slap. It hurt, badly. It seemed the man had resulted to violence after your unwillingness to give up your friend.

"Give me the right answer!" he yelled, pulling out a knife from his pocket, the metal shining in the moon light. You flinched at the sight of it.

Was he actually going to kill you? You could hardly process such a thought. You had never fully imagined dying. Your main concerns recently had been your homework, attending school, what to eat for lunch - trivial things now that you think about it. You were to young to imagine death, so why were you doing it now?

"Tell me the location of Marc Spector, or I will kill you in Ammit's name!" he yells, holding the knife up to your neck. You tightly shut your eyes, breath quick and panicked. You couldn't accept the fact that you were about to die, you needed to distance yourself from it.

"Tell me- hhff," his words were cut off with a grunt as the knife fell to the ground.

You opened your eyes in fear to see who you recognised as Moon Knight drag the man away into the darkness of the forest. While you were glad the evil man had been taken away, you were unsure how safe you were around the vigilante. Plus, after all the nonsense that man had said about Marc being Moon Knight, you weren't sure if you could trust anyone anymore.

You heard rushed footsteps approaching as you watched Marc run out of the shadows of the forest, a worried look on his face. You eyes teared up seeing him. Were you finally safe? Or was that man right? Whatever the case, your mind was only flooded with relief at the sight of a familar face.

"Y/n?" he asked in concern, waiting for a response as he took in your appearance.

You bit your lip to hold back your relief, but it was too much as you just suddenly burst into tears, not having to pretend you were strong anymore. Marc cursed to himself, he could only imagine how horrible this was for you. He quickly got to untying the ropes around you.

"I th-thought he was g-going to k-kill me...." you sobbed out, the situation finally hitting you properly.

"God, I'm so sorry this happened to you, kid. You're too young for this...." he says as he pulls the last rope away from you.

You just slide onto the ground in tears, putting your head in your hands as you curl up protectively.

"He wanted to k-kill you t-too...." you inform him through your sobs. He kneels down on the forest floor, observing your behaviour with sympathetic eyes.

"I know, I know. He was a bad man, but he can't hurt you anymore, alright? You're safe now, kid, I promise." You sniffle into your hands and nod softly.

"How about we get out of this forest?" he suggests. You nod again, wanting nothing more to be home and safe. But your body was so exhausted after so much stress and fear from what you just experienced.

"I'm t-tired...." you whisper out weakly. Marc's heart almost breaks at how sad and exhausted you sound. He had never imagined he'd see you be so hurt because of knowing him.

"It's okay kid. I'll take you back. Just....just rest a bit, if you can," he says gently.

You try to calm down a bit, trusting Marc enough that he would take you away from this place and to somewhere safe. Your body basically shuts down, the full force of all the stress finally affecting you as you essentially pass out from exhaustion.

You wake up the next morning on a soft couch in Marc's apartment. You sit up slowly and wince a bit at your pouding headache. Looking around, you notice Marc sitting on the couch opposite you, a worried look on his face.

"I made you some tea," he says awkwardly, gesturing to the cup infront of you on the coffee table. "It's your favourite." You take a small sip, the silence of the room becoming prominent.

You could sense that Marc didn't know what to say after everything that had happened. You didn't know what to say either. You were still confused about the whole situation and still trying to process it.

He just stands up, grabbing some things from his kitchen and placing them on the table infront of you.

"Just incase you wanted some medicine...." he explains. The awkward silence continues.

"Do you want me to patch up the...." he gestures to your cheek and wrists. You look down and notice the rope burn right across your wrist, shivering a bit as you remember last night. The burn had darkened since you passed out. Bringing your hand up to your cheek, you could feel the sting that still resonated from that mans violence. You nod stiffly, trying not to dwell on what happened.

He moves over to sit beside you and applies some ointment and a cover where it's needed. You just silently look down at your lap as he does so. He works gently, a frown plastered on his face as he see's the extent of what had happened to you up close.

He moves to sit opposite you again and watches sadly as you inspect the bandage around your wrists. You had never worn a bandage before.

"I'm so sorry, kid. You didn't deserve this at all..." he finally says. You just look up to him, noticing how genuinely remorseful he looked.

"It's okay, it's not like it's your fault or anything" you say quietly, trying to shrug it off. He looks down in shame, trying to form the words that he found so difficult to say.

"It was my fault, y/n. That man, he came after you because of me. He hurt you because he wanted to find me," Marc explained. You fiddled with the ends of your sleeves as you looked down.

"He was asking me where you were, I think he wanted to hurt you as well," you say with a small frown. "Why was he after you, Marc?" you ask hesitantly.

There's only silence as he doesn't reply. You look up again only to see him looking to the side in shame.

"The man told me that you were the local vigilante, the Moon Knight guy, and that's why he was looking for you. He was lying....right?" you ask.

Marc looks to you, face full of surrow as he considered admitting something to you that he never wanted you to know. He knew telling you would hurt you greatly. But after tonight, Marc thought that maybe you knowing would be better for you. Maybe it would push you away so that you didn't get hurt because of him again. He didn't deserve such a kind person such as yourself in his life anyway.

"It's true," he admits painfully. "He was telling the truth. I'm the Moon Knight."

You look at him unsurely, trying to find any hint that he was joking from his expression. But you found none. He seemed completely sincere.

"But he told me Moon Knight was a vigilante, that he hurt people...." you say, voice wavering a bit as your whole perception of Marc threatened to change.

Marc looked away from you again, he couldn't face the fact that he caused you this much pain. He sighed sadly into his hands and nodded.

"I know, I'm not a good person y/n," he confesses. You look at him with wide eyes.

Moon Knight was a vigilante who hurt people. Marc was Moon Knight. Was Marc going to hurt you? You had always felt so safe around him, had you been completely wrong this entire time?

"You hurt people, Marc...." you say fearfully.

"Only people who deserve it, I promise you," he says genuinly. Could you even trust him anymore? You subconiously leant back and away from him, attempting to form some kind of distance between you and him.

"What if I deserved it? Would you hurt me?" You question, glossy eyes full of fear. Marc was shocked that you'd ask such a question.

"I'd never hurt you, y/n. You don't deserve it, you're a good kid," he said. But you weren't sure how convincing his answer was. You still felt unsure and scared after finding out who he really was.

You felt tears come to your eyes as you thought back to all the years you and Marc had known eachother. Had it all been a lie? Had he been tricking you this entire time?

"Why didn't you t-tell m-me?" you ask sadly, feeling immensly betrayed by the one person you had previously trusted greatly.

"I didn't want you to be scared of me. All I wanted was for you to be happy and safe. I hoped that I would be able to escape doing this in a few years and that everything would go back to normal. But I guess I was wrong...."

"Escape....? Is someone making you do this?" you ask, still worried for his wellbeing even after everything you had learned. Marc looked at you sympathetically, he knew how caring you were as a person so he noticed that you found it in your heart to be concerned for him.

"It's not an easy thing to explain, kid," he sighed. You shuffled in your spot.

"Is someone forcing you to hurt people? Is that why you do it?" you ask carefully. He could tell you wanted to know more so that you could understand his actions. The least he could do was explain this to you.

"I made a deal with someone powerful. In exchange for my life, I'd work for them and do as they said. They give me the ability to save people who need to be saved, but they also tell me to hurt people who they believe are a danger to society." You nodded in understanding.

"I don't want to hurt anyone, and I promise that I will never hurt you, but I have a debt to repay, and this is how I am doing so. I don't agree with my actions, but it's keeping me alive. And I assure you that the people I hurt, they truely deserve it," he explains.

You process everything Marc has said. You found that you could empathise with him, and you could understand his actions to some extent. You had never experienced something as horrible as he is describing, but you can only imagine that his choice must be limited in his situation.

"So....you don't have a choice?" you clarify.

"Unfortunately not. It's just something I have to do. I know it's hard to understand, kid."

You search your brain for some sort of solution. You didn't think he was a horrible person. You felt bad for him and you wanted to help.

"If someone if forcing you to do something, then I think you should tell the police," you say naively. He appreciated your attempt to help. He couldn't blame you. You were still young and this was a hard thing to understand. He didn't even mention the fact that he was indebted to an ancient Egyptian god because he could hardly even believe that himself.

"I wish the police could help, kid. But this isn't something I can escape. I have to repay my debt. Once I have done that, I will be free." You deflated, your idea turning out to be useless. You didn't know how else to help him. You just pouted, sad that someone was doing this to Marc.

"Whoever is hurting you is mean. I don't think your a bad person, just a good person in a bad situation. You don't deserve this," you state simply.

Marc looks at you with wide eyes. You would never know how much those words affected him. He viewed himself as a horrible person and just accepted that he was being punished for existing. After years of abuse as a child and now years of servitude to Khonshu, he had convinced himself that he deserved whatever pain he experienced.

But he finally heard a different perspective. The perspective of young y/n, still naive to some of the worst things in the world, but mature enough to understand. You didn't think the way Marc did. Even after finding out what Marc has done, you found it within yourself to empathise and understand his situation. You didn't think Marc was a bad person. You didn't think that Marc's very existence was a mistake.

Marc hadn't felt such relief in a long time. Maybe you were right. Maybe he really didn't deserve Khonshu's torment.

"Thanks kid...." he says softly, feeling extremely grateful to have someone as kind as you in his life.

"Hm? For what?" you asked, a bit oblivious.

"Just, thanks. For everything. I'm going to make sure nothing like this ever happens again, okay? You're going to be safe from now on," he affirms. You nod.

"And I'm going to find a way to stop whoever is hurting you," you say determined. Marc's expressions softens. You still cared way too much. You look to him with kind eyes and a smile, putting out your hand for a handshake.

"Let's make a deal. You protect me and I'll protect you. Sound good?" you propose. He smiles softly at the childish nature of the deal but puts out his hand to gently shake yours.

"Sure kid, deal" he agrees, grateful that you mananged to always see the best in him.

~~~

A/N: Ooo a fun requrest. I love writing me some good quality angst :'). Was this enough angst though? I think I may have gone a little bit overboard haha.

Thank you to the person who requested this! This request made me super excited and it took me a while to write properly (sorryy), but it's finally done. I hope your satisfied with it!

Also, thank you very much for your compliment <3. I love exploring different platonic relationships between the characters and I hope each of them can speak to the readers in some way. So I'm very glad that you like it! :D

Also I DON'T CONDONE MURDER OKAY GUYS??? I swear! I just wanted it to be wholesome after all that angst. The reader doesn't support all the murderous activity haha, just sympathises with Marcs situation. Idk, it's kinda hard to write fluff when Marc legit just murders people 💀. So let's just look past that, okay, everyone, agreed, cool.

Also if anyone is interested, my art account on Instagram is @ sadly_a_ghost. If you wanted to check it out then I'd greatly appreciate it :)

Have a wonderful day everyonee!

-Ghosty

[zdux]

Dead by Daylight

Wesker X Reader

Part One

He/They Pronouns used for Reader

I did an interest check on this a little while ago and you guys seemed excited! I know some people asked me to tag them in this so I’ll have those listed at the bottom. I hope you guys enjoy, this has been really fun for me and I’m writing more, so if you like it lemme know! Fic starts under the cut!

“Damn, you’re beat to shit.” Dwight commented as he bandaged y/n’s arm.

“Yeah, you’re telling me.” He laughed, trying to conceal the wince that slipped out as Dwight tied the wrap off.

Cuts and bruises covered his skin, primarily on his legs, but the biggest issue was his sprained wrist. Trying to fix a generator like this felt like a death sentence. The odds of getting out of a trial were getting smaller and smaller, but there was nothing y/n could do. If he was lucky, he wouldn’t be put in a trial for a few days, giving him some time to recover.

“Well, that’s the best I can do for now. I’m basically out of medical supplies right now.” Dwight said, sitting back and wiping his hands together. He had covered most of the wounds, though some of the smaller ones were still exposed. It was better than nothing.

“Thanks, Dwight, I owe you one.” y/n said, standing up carefully.

“Where are you going?” Dwight asked.

“I just need a walk. Besides, we’ve been sitting by the fire for a while now and I’m getting too warm. I’ll be careful.” He said, smiling at Dwight before heading off towards the forest.

The forest was quiet; though the sounds of small animals could be heard. y/n’s footsteps crunched against the leaves and twigs on the ground, announcing his presence to any of the creatures nearby as he made his way farther in. He only walked for a few minutes, the campfire becoming a small light in the distance.

y/n sighed, leaning against a tree. His body ached, he could feel each tear and rip in his skin as he tried to relax. He winced, holding his right wrist to try and alleviate the pain, but it didn’t help very much. He tried to focus on his breathing, giving his mind something other than the injuries to think about.

“one…two…three…four…one…two…three…four…” He counted in his head, closing his eyes and slowing his breath down. “Okay… this is alright, just don’t fall asleep out here…”

“What are you doing out here?”

A voice came from behind y/n. His eyes snapped open, whipping his body around. He stumbled, losing his balance and falling backwards.

“Woa-!”

Before he hit the ground, something grabbed his forearm, pulling him back up and forward. When he gathered his senses again, he realized he was pressed against someone’s chest, one of their arms wrapped around him. He paused for a moment, trying to figure out who it was.

“I wasn’t intending to scare you.”

A man’s voice, he noticed, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on who it was. It couldn’t be Dwight, and it was too deep to be Leon. It might have been David, but y/n knew David was in a trial at the moment.

“It’s… okay. Thanks for catching me.” y/n replied, still trying to puzzle out who it could be. He was still pressing him to his chest. His shirt was black, which didn’t help in the slightest, considering y/n’s own shirt was a black jersey with red and white detailing. Could this be a new survivor? He really hoped not, the less people that got forced in here, the better.

“Did I hurt your arm?” The stranger asked.

“Oh, no, you didn’t. You grabbed just above it, so you didn’t-“

“I meant if I caused it.”

“What?”

y/n finally pushed the stranger away; only to be met with shock and fear when he saw who the stranger was. He stumbled back, being careful not to fall as he put space between them.

In front of him stood one of the killers; “The Mastermind.” Leon had mentioned him before, apparently his name was Wesker. He was dressed head to toe in black, with his long coat making him appear taller than he was. Even his sunglasses were pitch black, making it nearly impossible to see his eyes. Something about that made him more terrifying; he seemed almost inhuman.

“W-what are you doing here? We aren’t in a trial, you aren’t s-supposed to hurt us-s…” y/n’s voice was cracking. As much as he tried to sound calm, he was terrified. He had gone against Wesker in trials before, and he was no joke. His speed was insanity, and his methods were cruel. Most of their trials together ended in someone saving y/n at the last minute due to a mistake on Wesker’s part. Every time felt more lucky than the last, just barely escaping him.

“I’m not here to hurt you. If I was, I would’ve done so already,” Wesker said, putting his palms up and out to show his intentions. “Besides, if I was here to hurt you, why would I stop you from falling and ask about your injuries?” He sounded annoyed, but he didn’t move forward.

y/n scowled.

“You’re literally one of the ‘killers.’ Why wouldn’t I think you’re here to hurt me? Besides, I’ve seen you in the trials, I wouldn’t put it past you to trick someone by feigning affection.” He snapped back. Some of his fear had subsided, and it was replaced by aggression. He had never been given the opportunity to bitch out one of the killers like this, but it felt good. It was like a small touch of revenge.

Wesker sighed, pinching his brow with one hand and crossing the other.

“Fine, have it your way. But you didn’t answer my question; was I the one who injured your wrist?” He asked again impatiently.

“Hell if I know!” y/n scoffed, “Do you know how many of these we are made to do? Do you have ANY idea?? Because I lost count! You could be, I don’t know, I don’t even know how someone can be responsible for a sprain but you can take the blame if you want!”

“It’s not broken? Hmm.” Wesker said, his hand moving from his brow to his chin. y/n scoffed again, disgusted.

“What, were you trying to break it? You son of a bitch, is this a joke to you?” He said, infuriated.

“What? No, that’s- I wasn’t- I…” Wesker started, but cut himself off. He paused for a minute, sighing before he continued.

“I apologize, that wasn’t my intention. I assumed it was broken, but it being sprained explains why you weren’t as shocked when I grabbed it earlier. I thought your body was still in shock, but it being a sprain makes sense. May I take a look at it?”

y/n paused for a minute. He wasn’t expecting Wesker to need to regain composure, let alone an apology. Though still cautious, he had calmed down some.

“Sure, but don’t try anything funny.” y/n decided, stepping closer to Wesker and reaching his hand out. His threat was empty, but it made him feel better saying it.

“Thank you.” Wesker said, stepping forward and gently grabbing y/n’s wrist. He carefully began to undo the bandage until he had exposed the wrist. It was bruised, the skin turned a sickly shade of greenish yellow. y/n winced as Wesker carefully put a finger on top of the bruise.

“Whoever bandaged this clearly didn’t know what they were doing, if you had left this on it probably would’ve made it worse.” He said, removing his finger from the bruise and beginning to rewrap the injury.

“Well, it’s not exactly like my insurance covers getting brutally sacrificed to an eldritch deity.” y/n joked, trying to smile a little so that Wesker wouldn’t notice him being in pain. To his surprise, Wesker chuckled. y/n watched him carefully as he worked, noticing just how careful he was being. His wrist hurt, but it wasn’t being made worse as he bandaged it.

“Where did you learn to do this?” y/n asked, trying to keep the conversation from turning into an awkward silence.

“I was a police officer, once. They put you through basic medical training, and when I became a captain that just meant more medical training.” Wesker answered.

“You were a cop?” y/n asked, surprised. He hadn’t expected an answer, let alone something like this.

“A long time ago, yes. Obviously not anymore.” Wesker gestured at himself as he said this, and y/n laughed a little. It was almost a pleasant exchange.

“There, your wrist is done.” Wesker lifted y/n’s wrist up, putting it between them.

“Thank you, I-“ y/n started, but stopped. Wesker had moved his own hand down and was now holding y/n’s, as if he was royalty asking for his hand to be kissed. Wesker hadn’t looked up either, he was still focusing on his hand. y/n was tempted to pull away, but he waited to see what Wesker was doing.

“I… is something wrong?” y/n asked nervously.

“No, nothing’s wrong.” Wesker responded. He seemed calm, almost detached from the situation.

“May I have my hand back?” y/n asked, leaning down a little to try and get Wesker to look at him. Wesker didn’t respond, but made a small humming sound. He just kept staring at their hands for a moment.

“Wesker what are you doi-!” y/n began, but was cut off as Wesker interlocked their fingers and pulled their hands forward to his lips. He didn’t do anything else from there, but he simply held them there.

y/n watched in shock, unable to really think about what was happening. He felt his face begin to blush, as much as he was trying to stop it. Wesker wasn’t being affectionate, let alone romantic, there was no way. He didn’t know what he was doing, but it couldn’t be something like that. y/n didn’t know the extent of Wesker’s abilities, maybe this was some weird trick he was using. Didn’t Wesker control some kind of virus? He could be infecting the wound or something, he could be doing god knows what.

“Your hand is soft.” Wesker broke the silence. y/n could feel his lips move against his hand as he spoke, trying not to react to the best of his ability.

“I,, thank you…” y/n stuttered out, looking away.

“Am I making you nervous?”

“…uh,, somewhat… I don’t really know what you’re doing…” y/n said, keeping his eyes on the ground.

“I’m holding your hand, isn’t it obvious?” Wesker explained.

y/n’s brow twitched, confused.

“Well, yes but I don’t know why or to what end. It’s just weird, you suddenly show up, bandage my wound, and then hold my hand to your face, it just seems like you’re being-“

“Romantic? Affectionate? Kind?” Wesker offered up. y/n turned back to face him. He had moved their hands just off his face, and his sunglasses were slid down his nose. y/n was a little surprised when he finally saw his eyes; they were a deep red color with slits for pupils. He was staring up at y/n, an almost pleading look on his face.

y/n shook himself out of Wesker’s grip, stepping back and sitting down on the floor.

“I have… no idea! What you want from me… You aren’t making any sense. You’ve literally tried to kill me before, and yet here you are, staring at me and… flirting with me? I don’t even know!” y/n put his head in his hands and tried to calm down. He truly didn’t know what to do, this situation seemed so strange.

He heard the ruffling of clothes before he felt Wesker lean in towards him, presumably on the ground with him now.

“Do you take me as the type of person to make mistakes?” Wesker whispered, his voice revealing that his face was merely inches from y/n’s.

“I… I don’t think so?” y/n mumbled through his hands.

“Well, if you don’t take me as a person to make mistakes, and yet you’ve managed to escape me in all our trials, why do you think that is?”

y/n’s hand fell from his face, eyes locking with Wesker’s immediately. He had taken off his sunglasses and was crouching just above him. It finally began to come together; the escapes, the bandaging, the weird affection, all of it. Wesker hadn’t been hurting him on purpose this entire time. y/n’s mind raced with memories of their trials, realizing the amount of times where his survival was not luck, but allowed by Wesker. Purposefully missing when he swung with his knife, walking noticeably far away when he had the chance to put y/n on the hook and giving him time to be helped by a team mate. Not only had he been sparing him, he had been going out of his way to make his affection look like mistakes.

“Why? This doesn’t make any sense. Are you just being cruel again? Did you just pick me, and decide to toy with my life? Why would…” y/n tried to justify it all to himself, but he began crying. This was all so much. It was hard enough surviving in the realms, let alone worrying about being nothing but a toy to a killer. He had heard about it happening before, but never expected it to happen to him.

As sobbed wracked his body, his vision clouded with tears. He could barely see, but he felt Wesker lean in and wrap his arms around him. Despite the strange situation, y/n leaned in as well. He clutched Wesker’s coat, burying his face in his shoulder.

Wesker began to move, adjusting the two of them so that his back was up against the tree he had scared y/n from. He shifted y/n’s weight, moving him so that he was laying on top of him instead of underneath. y/n allowed him to, still clutching his coat as he sobbed. Once adjusted, Wesker gently placed his chin on top of y/n’s head.

———————

@mama-miya

@aesthetictokinghost

[lamaenthel]

You Weren't Supposed To Be There

[read on ao3][masterlist]Febuwhump prompt: "You weren't supposed to be there"

Ordo blinked a few times, confused. "I had orders to get information that he had," he said. He had a pinched look on his face. He knew that he'd done something wrong, he just didn't know what. "I figured that." Besany hid her shaking hands in her lap. "It's not as though I enjoy it," Ordo said. He'd noticed she'd put her hands somewhere that he couldn't touch them. She could tell by the way the divot between his brows had tightened that he didn't like it. "It… it was part of the mission. I thought your apartment would be a safe place to take him. I'm sorry you had to see that."

Characters: Besany Wessen/Null-11|Ordo Skirata Wordcount: 819

The Kragget was never truly empty, but it was the least busy in the liminal hour of Coruscant's dawn, that fuzzy space when the drunks staggered home from the bars and the honest working-class folks began their trek to work. The server droid whirred around the restaurant with a subsonic whine, slinging caf and nuna eggs to the sleepy patrons and not bothering them with attempts at conversation. A soft, feminine voice came out of a speaker overhead, reading the news in both Rodian and Basic.

Besany and Ordo had taken the corner booth for privacy. They both sat in stony silence with two cups of caf that had long gone cold, neither really sure of what to say. "You weren't supposed to be there," Ordo finally piped up.

"In my own apartment?" Besany asked bitterly.

"No." Ordo looked unhappy, though it was hard to tell with him sometimes. "You said that you were going to be in the southern hemisphere for seventy-two hours at another Treasury branch. I wouldn't have taken him there if I knew you would be there."

Besany covered her face and fought the urge to scream.

"I already had a crime scene droid on standby, it would have been cleaned up and put back to normal by the time you—"

"What is it that you think I'm upset over?" Besany cut him off.

Ordo, his back to the far corner, glanced around the restaurant before answering. "That I was interrogating someone in your apartment?" he asked hesitantly.

"Interrogating." Besany choked out the word and stopped herself before she said something stupid in front of witnesses. What Ordo had been doing to that man in her karking bedroom was torture. She'd walked into a scene out of some sort of horror holovid; Ordo had tied a Twi'lek man to a chair and arranged a kriffing kit—the likes of which she would only expect some sort of sadistic serial killer to carry—across her bed. 

There had been so much blood that for a solid three seconds she hadn't realized that the man was teal-skinned and not red. 

"I," Besany began carefully, "am upset that you were…" she swallowed hard, willing herself not to vomit as the memory of the Twi'lek's brutal screams reared up again, "that you were interrogating anyone in that way at all." 

Ordo blinked a few times, confused. "I had orders to get information that he had," he said. He had a pinched look on his face. He knew that he'd done something wrong, he just didn't know what. 

"I figured that." Besany hid her shaking hands in her lap. 

"It's not as though I enjoy it," Ordo said. He'd noticed she'd put her hands somewhere that he couldn't touch them. She could tell by the way the divot between his brows had tightened that he didn't like it. "It… it was part of the mission. I thought your apartment would be a safe place to take him. I'm sorry you had to see that."

Besany nodded and closed her eyes. She couldn't look at him. She couldn't even picture his sweet, handsome, earnest face in her mind's eye without also seeing the man that he'd flayed alive. "I have to go," she whispered, and slid out of the booth. "I'm sorry, Ordo. I like you. I really, really like you but... I can't do this anymore."

"Do what?" Ordo's voice pitched up in surprise; for a moment, he sounded like the teenager he technically was. His eyes were wide and distressed, his mouth was tight. He looked scared. 

Besany had never seen him scared before.

"Our relationship." She steeled her shoulders and swallowed down a sob. She had to be blunt, or he wouldn't get it. "I understand that it's your job to do horrible things sometimes. I understand that you do those things to keep us safe and that I would never, ever be able to do them in a million years. But what I just saw, in my bedroom of all places—" a cracked sob slipped out, choking her. "I'm sorry. Please don't contact me again."

She threw credits down to cover the caf—too aware of the painful knowledge that he had never earned a credit in his life for all of the horrible things that he had done for the Republic—and fled out into the cold night air before she started crying outright, trying to forget the agonized screams of the man her lover had torn the skin off of. She finally let herself break down once she boarded a speederbus and tucked herself in the furthest rear corner, insane laughter coloring her tears after she spotted the ad on the seat in front of her for Thereafter LLC, a self-described Compassionate! Discrete! Affordable! crime-scene and biohazard cleaning company.

She copied down the frequency and wondered if Kal Skirata would kill her if she sent him the bill.

Taglist: @starwarsficnetwork, @febuwhump, @soliloquy-of-nemo Divider: @saradika-graphics