#but you do not to rush to its defense and try to explain the /meaning/ of it to me

[ofswordsandpens]

Yeah tv Percy being afraid of the water is confusing to me. I actually really liked that movie Percy had a connection to the water from the beginning since that wasn’t really mentioned in the books as far as I recall.

I'll say it with my chest: I think the show making young Percy, a son of Poseidon, scared of the water was silly, stupid, dumb.

Like I don't care if its a metaphor for his rocky relationship with Poseidon, or if it was simply the vessel they chose to showcase his dynamic with his mother and to be a parallel to the underwater scene where he breathes for the first time, or just whatever, it doesn't make me like it. Especially since they could have accomplished all of that without making young Percy nervous of the water.

And you're right, in the book I believe the most we know about Percy's connection to water before he knew he was a demigod is that he loved Montauk, even if "most of the time the sea was too cold to swim in" but idc you cannot convince me that young Percy was not obsessed with water. That if Sally had taken him to a pool, that she would be hard pressed to get him out rather than get him. That he would not be "inexplicably" lapping every other child in his swim lessons.

Then Percy's later, canon fear of drowning is something that is only developed due to a traumatic event where he nearly suffocated. This fear also had a metaphorical interpretation as well, but imo the moment where he nearly suffocated in SON really disturbed him because he's always felt so safe and at home in the water. And that was like the first time he didn't.

[thelostconsultant]

Double surprise

pairing: Lando Norris x reader

summary: Lando wants to surprise you, but in the end you surprise him too.

Lando could tell Max was already planning to bang his head against the coffee table, but it honestly wasn't his fault. Maybe he was terrible at making decisions at the moment, yes, so what? It's not like he had anywhere to rush at this time, and if he was a true friend, he would stay to provide emotional support.

Because Lando was preparing for something big, and the first step was asking a jewelry store employee to jump in the hotel he was staying in with a bunch of engagement rings. If he showed up in the store himself, social media would be full of pictures within a matter of minutes. He didn't want to ruin the surprise. And it was also much more comfortable this way.

“Lando, just pick the third one. You said it yourself, that's her style,” Max tried.

With a thoughtful hum, the Brit picked up the said piece and took a better look at it. “Yeah, it's true, but,” he began, then came to a halt as he grabbed the last one the jeweler showed him. “I don’t know, the first one is a classic, but what if she prefers something modern and trendy?”

The jeweler watched him in silence, the patience of a saint radiating from his smile. He had been there for two hours now, it was already nine in the evening, but he not once made a comment about still being there. “Which one is closer to what she usually wears?” he asked softly, trying to guide him towards a decision.

Lando thought for a moment. “The classic one,” he replied while he took a closer look at it again.

One big, round white diamond with two smaller stones on its side, completed by a yellow gold band. It was clean. Nice. Something simply elegant for her. But then he glanced over at the other one and saw the curved white gold band with a big, pear shaped yellow diamond, and a voice in his head told him that was the one. People would go insane over it when you shared it on social media.

He looked up at the jeweler with a thankful smile, then turned to Max. “All right, I'm buying both. She'll get the trendy one, but if she doesn't like it, all I'll have to do is pull out the classic option. She can even wear whichever she prefers depending on the day,” he explained his master plan.

Max let out a sigh of relief and mouthed ‘finally’ under his breath, while the jeweler clapped his hands together and closed the box with the rest of the rings. Meanwhile Lando had a huge grin on his face, clearly satisfied with his decision. He solved the problem. Sure, it took two hours, but he wanted to pick the perfect ring for you.

Since he specifically asked for rings already available in your size–which he only knew because he stole one you wore on that finger–he kept the chosen ones and said goodbye to the jeweler after paying for the items. Once they were left alone, Max picked up the rings and took a closer look at them, carefully examining every centimeter, every curve, and every stone. As if he was waiting for approval, Lando raised an eyebrow at him.

“Good choice if you ask me. Seeing her disappointed in your taste wouldn't make you feel good, even if she said yes,” Max said with a short laugh before putting down the jewels.

Rolling his eyes, Lando stretched his arms above his head and fought back a yawn. Media day always took a lot out of him and today wasn't any different. Add the stress of making the right decision and he felt like a truck had hit him. “Thanks, mate,” he told his friend.

“When will you ask her?”

“She arrives tomorrow, so I guess I'll get it over with as soon as I can. I need an extra boost for qualifying,” he added with a laugh.

Max gave him a ‘good luck out-qualifying me’ look, but Lando was too hyped to notice. So he let out a sigh and decided to voice his only concern. “So you want to get this over with? Sounds romantic.”

“You know what I mean,” Lando said defensively, giving him a disappointed look that was mixed with the hurt feeling because he dared to joke about him not being serious enough about it.

“Well, tell me how it went.” Max patted his friend on the shoulder before standing up, then watched him with a small smile. “But I'm proud of you. She's nice and has a good influence on you… You chose wisely.”

“Thanks. See you tomorrow at the track?”

Max nodded, then he raised his hand to wave him goodbye and left the hotel room. This left Lando alone with his thoughts, and he began to wonder if he would succeed. The two of you had been going through a bit of a rough patch lately, and he told you this trip was all about fixing that. You would join him for the race weekend, then you would stay in the area for a little trip, just the two of you, away from curious eyes.

His mother told him this plan of his might backfire, because you weren't entirely pleased with him right now, and who knew, maybe you would consider this a way to force you to stay in this relationship. He obviously didn't want you to feel that way, but he didn't want you to leave him either.

His phone buzzed next to him, and when he took a look at it, a wide smile grew on his face. “Hello, beautiful,” he answered happily.

“Hey, you have a moment?” you asked him hesitantly.

“For you? Always.”

There was a short pause, he could hear the traffic in the background, but before he could ask you where you were, you took a deep breath and began to talk. “So I said I'm gonna arrive tomorrow, but I won't.”

Lando felt like he was stabbed in the heart, like the air had been knocked out of his lungs. “What do you mean you won't? You promised to come here, you can't just back out of it! Unless it's a family emergency. Is it a family emergency?” he asked, barely able to hide the anger that latched onto his voice.

You remained silent for a while and he silently cursed under his breath. How could you do this to him? You had agreed you would join him two months ago, there's no way you couldn't plan that much ahead back then. But then you let out a laugh, one of those adorable laughs he loved so much, and his anger disappeared at once.

“I'll send you an address. Get in the car and meet me there,” you told him.

“I'll be at the track all day and you arrive in the morning, don't tell me you won't–”

You cleared your throat to interrupt him. “I was talking about now, you muppet. Or are you about to sleep?” you asked him teasingly.

Lando huffed and rolled his eyes. But then it struck him, you were talking about now, you were talking about him driving to that mysterious location, which meant… “Wait, you're already here?” he asked you.

“Just meet me. There's something I need to tell you.”

And with that you ended the call. He didn't have the brain capacity to stop you, and it didn't occur to him that he could have called you back. Instead he stood there, staring at the screen of his phone until the notification popped up. He put the address in the search bar and checked the map. It was close, only a fifteen minutes drive from his hotel.

Without hesitation, he grabbed his keys and headed to where you were apparently waiting for him. He was already standing in front of the elevator when he realized he left the rings in his room, and he didn't want to leave without them. So he ran back and picked up the two boxes, putting them safely in his pocket.

After a car ride that seemed painfully slow, he finally arrived at his destination. According to your message, you were right here, but when he looked up, he noticed it was a private clinic. Hoping this was the right address, he went closer to the door and it opened right away, so he went inside and tried to figure out where to go next. This place was huge, and at this time it felt like he was in The Walking Dead.

“Mr. Norris? Please, follow me,” a woman in her thirties told him with a polite smile, gesturing towards the elevator.

“Where are we going?” he asked when the door closed behind them.

The woman only watched him with a mysterious smile, probably perfectly aware of what was happening, but she didn't say a word. She probably promised to keep your secret, which was nice, but also extremely annoying. Why in a clinic? Did something happen to you? But you sounded happy, surely everything was okay.

Before they stopped, the woman handed him an eye mask and asked him to put it on. At this point he didn't dare to ask questions, so he did as he was told and followed her guidance after the elevator came to a halt. After she made him stop, he heard a door open and he was soon pushed ahead to enter.

He waited. Someone would hopefully come over to tell him what this was all about, and until then he decided to remain silent. And then he felt soft fingers trace his cheek, only to find the edge of the mask and slowly pull it off his head. There you were, happy and in one piece. With a smile, he was quick to pull you into a hug.

“I missed you,” he whispered as he kissed your head then buried his face into the crook of your neck. “What are you doing here? Or rather, what are we doing here in a clinic?”

“I have a surprise for you,” you purred into his ear, and he could feel your nails scratch the skin on the back of his neck as you spoke. It felt nice. He missed this.

For the first time, he took a look around the ultrasound room, and when he noticed the posters on the walls, his suspicion began to grow. “Wait a second,” he began as he took a step back and looked you in the eye. “Are you…?” He pointed at your abdomen with a raised eyebrow.

With a laugh, you took his hand. “I am. Eight weeks in,” you informed him.

For a while he was staring at you with a dumbfounded look on his face, but then he stepped closer to pull you into a passionate kiss. What started out as something serious soon turned into a series of giggles from the both of you. Lando was the one who pulled away, suddenly remembering something.

He excused himself and stepped outside for long enough to find the main ring’s box in his pocket, then returned with his hands held behind his back. There was no plan, at least not for these circumstances, so he had no choice but to improvise. You looked confused and he had to flash a smile at you to let you know it was okay.

“I… You know… Damn it. Okay, so there was a plan, I promise, but you didn't really leave me a choice. Pick a hand.”

“What?” you asked with a confused look.

“Choose a hand. Left or right?”

You let out a thoughtful hum, visibly thinking about the answer. Then you flashed a wide grin at him and said, “Right.”

It was in his left hand, but nevermind, he grabbed the box with his right one and held it out for you. “This is yours,” he said nervously.

The shocked look on your face made him worry, but it slowly melted away as you slowly opened the box and saw the ring inside. You took it out to take a better look at the piece of jewelry, and soon a smile grew on your face before you finally turned to him.

“What do you say?” Lando asked.

“You didn't ask me anything.”

With a roll of his eyes, he reached out to take the ring and took your hand as well. “Will you marry me?” You nodded without hesitation, tears already forming in your eyes, and he quickly put the ring on your finger before you could change your mind. He kissed you again, but he could tell you were looking at your new ring behind his back. “You like it?” he asked once he pulled away and took a look at it as well.

You nodded. “It's beautiful.”

Lando reached into his pocket for the other box, and showed you his plan B. “If you'd prefer something classic, here's this one too,” he explained.

“You're insane. One ring is more than enough,” you told him with a laugh.

“Well, I know how many shoes you have, this can't be any different.”

With a playful laugh, you slapped his arm. “An engagement ring is different, trust me,” you said as you leaned closer. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He looked around and motioned towards the machine in the corner. “So… Are we here so I can take a look at my child?”

You nodded and went out to ask the doctor to come in. Meanwhile Lando couldn't help but think about how much organizing it must have taken to get this ready, but he was honestly grateful, because it was a big surprise. A big and amazing surprise. This was one of the reasons why he loved you so much, and all he wanted was to make your life as good as he could in return.

[stylesispunk]

'You gave me something to lose'

Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: Joel is afraid of losing you.

wc: 4k>

warnings: angst, mentions of panic attacks, fluff. Messy writing cause this is an old draft.

a/n: this was on my drafts for so long so I'm posting this as a gift because I'm going to London for the next two weeks and I won't be very active on here. So once I return, I promise I'll write the pendant things and requests I have. I hope you like this one. Happy reading 💌

dividerers by @/saradika-graphics

Joel didn’t fear anything, not dying nor being alone or even broke.

Not the clickers, not darkness, but you.

when his mission to take Ellie to the fireflies became into caring for the teen, he felt panicked.

And when he learned he had fallen deeply in love with you, you gave him something to lose.

And he was frightened.

Joel had always been a fortress, walls built high and strong to keep out the pain and loss he had endured. But now, those walls were crumbling. Each moment he spent with you, each secret you both had shared, each tender touch, chipped away at the defenses he had so meticulously constructed.

Since the day Joel met you at the QZ in Boston, you had stolen something from him. He didn’t decipher what back then, but every time you weren’t on his sight, a knot formed on his stomach. Every time he caught a glimpse of you, his blood rushed into his cheeks.

And God, every single time you smiled at him, he could find a reason to keep surviving in this world, again.

And that’s why when you had decided to go after him, when he and Tess took Ellie with them to the fireflies. He had made up his mind, between the anger and tinted loved was feeling for you right at that moment, he had decided he was going to protect you more than anything or anyone. Even when you got on his nerves.

The journey to the fireflies was grueling. The roads were treacherous, infested with clickers and hunters. Every step was a battle, every night a gamble. But Joel was relentless. He led the way with a grim determination, always keeping you and Ellie close. The tension was palpable, a silent acknowledgment of the danger that lurked in every shadow.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the desolate landscape, you found a moment of respite. The group set up camp in an abandoned building, its crumbling walls offering a semblance of shelter. Joel, ever vigilant, took the first watch.

You approached him, the flickering firelight casting dancing shadows across his weathered face. He looked up as you neared, his eyes softening slightly. “You should get some rest,” he said, his voice a low rumble.

You shook your head, sitting down beside him. “I can’t sleep. Too much on my mind.”

Joel glanced at you, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, I get that.” There was a pause, a comfortable silence settling between you. “You know,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper, “I never thought I’d feel this way again. Not after everything.”

You looked at him, searching his eyes. “What do you mean?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve…” he paused, “Never mind.”

You furrowed your brow, sensing the weight of his unspoken words. “Joel, you can talk to me. Whatever it is, I’m here.”

He looked away, his jaw tightening. “It’s just… it’s hard to explain.” He paused again, just a few seconds, lifting his gaze up to yours “Why did you followed us three?” he asked.

The question caught you off guard, but you didn’t hesitate in your response. “I didn’t follow all of you. I followed you.”

“Why?”

“Because back in the QZ there wasn’t a life after you” you confessed, “Life sucks in there, but without you it would be worse.”

Joel’s eyes widened slightly, the vulnerability of your words hitting him harder than he expected. He stared at you, trying to process the depth of your feelings. “I never knew…”

“Of course you didn’t,” you interrupted softly. “You’ve always been so focused on surviving, on protecting Tess and yourself, that you’ve never stopped to see how much you mean to people. How much you mean to me.”

He shook his head, struggling to find the right words. “Good to know it because I feel the same about you.”

Your heart skipped a beat, his admission filling you with warmth. "Joel..."

He took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. “When I met you, I didn’t think I could care for anyone again. But you... you changed that.”

You felt tears welling up in your eyes, but you held them back, not wanting to break the cosmic moment “I’m glad. Because I can’t imagine going through this without you.”

Joel reached out, his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb gently brushing away a stray tear that had escaped. “Now can you, please go to sleep?”

“Can I sleep here?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel’s expression softened, and without hesitation, he nodded. “Yeah, you can.”

He shifted, making room for you to lie down beside him. As you settled in, the warmth of his body next to yours was both comforting and grounding. You felt his arm wrap around you, pulling you closer, and you snuggled into his embrace, feeling safe and protected.

“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his chest.

“For what?” he asked softly, his breath warm against your hair.

“For letting me in. For trusting me.”

Joel pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “I trust you more than anyone. And I’m glad you’re here. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You smiled, the weight of the world feeling just a little bit lighter in his arms. “We’ll figure it out together. “As the night deepened, the sounds of the wilderness outside seemed distant, the crackling fire casting a gentle glow around you. Joel’s steady heartbeat and the rise and fall of his chest were the lullaby that finally coaxed you into sleep. In his arms, you found a peace you hadn’t known in a long time.

He felt his heart giving up for you.

That had happened a few months ago.

And Joel had become afraid. He found himself lying awake almost every night, staring at the sky and the stars, a storm of thoughts raging in his mind. What if something happened to you? What if he couldn't protect you? The thought of losing you, of seeing the light fade from your eyes, was a nightmare he couldn't bear. It was a fear far greater than anything he had ever faced; greater than the harsh realities of the post-apocalyptic world he had navigated for so long.

During the day, he tried to push these fears aside, trying to focus on the present. But it was impossible. Every smile you gave him reminded him of what he stood to lose. Every time you reached for his hand, his heart ached with the weight of his love for you and the dread of its potential loss.

He watched you with Ellie, how you cared for her, and how you brought joy and laughter into her bleak world. He saw how you made her feel safe and loved, and it only made his feelings for you deepen. Ellie, too, had become a part of this fragile, makeshift family, and his love for both of you intertwined, creating a web of vulnerability he couldn't escape.

The wind howled outside, carrying with it the bitter cold of the frozen winter night. Inside the small, dilapidated cabin, a fire crackled in the hearth, casting a warm glow across the room. You, Joel, and Ellie huddled close to the fire, trying to fend off the chill that seemed to seep through the very walls.

Ellie poked at the fire with a stick, her eyes reflecting the dancing flames. "What do you think it’ll be like, Joel?" she asked, her voice filled with a mix of hope and uncertainty.

Joel looked up from the map he was studying, his eyes softening as he met Ellie’s gaze. "What do you mean?"

"After the cure," she said. "When this is all over. What do you think it’ll be like?"

Joel leaned back against the rough wooden wall, his mind drifting to a time long past. "I reckon things will be...different. Better, maybe. People could rebuild, start over. There might be schools again, towns with shops, places where kids can just be kids."

Ellie smiled at the thought, her imagination running wild with possibilities. "I want to learn to play guitar," she said. "Like you, Joel. You promised to teach me, remember?"

Joel chuckled softly, a rare sound in these harsh times. "Yeah, I remember. We'll find one, and I'll teach you. Maybe we can even have a little concert, you and me."

You watched the exchange, a warm feeling spreading through your chest. "What about you, Joel? What's something you’d want to do?"

Joel hesitated, his eyes flicking to you. "I... I’d like to have a place of our own. Somewhere safe. Maybe a little house with a garden. We could grow our own food, live a quiet life. Just...be together."

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection. "That sounds nice," you said softly. "Really nice."

The conversation drifted into a comfortable silence, each of you lost in thoughts of a hopeful future. You leaned against Joel, the warmth of his body a comforting presence. His arm wrapped around you instinctively, pulling you closer.

Ellie yawned and stretched out on the floor next to the fire. "I think I'm going to get some sleep," she said, her voice already heavy with exhaustion.

"Good idea," Joel replied. "I’ll keep the watch."

Ellie nodded and pulled her blanket tightly around herself, quickly drifting off to sleep. You and Joel stayed by the fire, the quiet crackling of the flames the only sound in the room.

"Do you really think there’s hope for a cure?" you asked quietly, your head resting on his shoulder.

Joel sighed, his fingers gently stroking your arm. "I don't know," he admitted. "But I have to believe there is. For Ellie. For you."

You tilted your head up to look at him, your eyes searching his. "You’ve been through so much, Joel. Yet you still find it in you to hope. That’s incredible."

He shook his head slightly. "It's not hope," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's you.”

Joel’s panic attacks had become more frequent as the days passed. Every quiet moment seemed to stretch into an eternity of worry and fear. He could feel the weight of his responsibilities pressing down on him, and the constant fear that he wouldn’t be able to protect you or Ellie gnawed at him relentlessly.

When the three of you had finally arrived at Jackson, Joel’s thoughts were a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Jackson was a sanctuary, a place where you could all be safe, but his fears didn’t dissipate. If anything, they grew stronger. The more secure the surroundings, the more he worried about what could go wrong.

Jackson was bustling with life, a stark contrast to the desolate landscapes they had traversed. Children played in the streets, people worked in gardens, and there was a sense of community and hope that was almost overwhelming. Joel watched it all with a heavy heart, his mind racing.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was going to die, that some unseen danger would take him away from you and Ellie. The thought of leaving you unprotected was unbearable. That’s when the idea started to form: maybe the best way to protect you was to leave you in Jackson, where you’d be safe. Where you could even find someone younger than him to kept you alive.

Joel sought out his brother. He found Tommy in the community hall, finishing up some late-night paperwork. The room was quiet, the only sound the scratch of Tommy’s pen against the paper.

"Tommy," Joel said, his voice low and strained.

Tommy looked up, immediately sensing the urgency in his brother’s tone. "Joel, what’s going on? You look like you’ve seen a ghost."

Joel took a deep breath, his hands trembling. He sat down across from Tommy, his eyes filled with anguish. "I need to talk to you. It’s about Ellie and... and my….my " He couldn’t find the words to describe you. Calling you his lover wasn’t a proper word to use, it felt so weak. There was not nickname that could make justice to what you meant to him.

“Your girlfriend?” Tommy asked.

Joel nodded.

Tommy set his pen down, giving Joel his full attention. "Alright, tell me what’s on your mind."

Joel’s voice cracked as he spoke. "I don’t know how much longer I can do this. The fear... it’s eating me alive. I’m so scared something’s going to happen to them, and I won’t be able to protect them."

Tommy’s expression softened. "Joel, you’re in Jackson now. It’s safe here. We’ve got walls, people who care about each other. You don’t have to do this alone."

Joel shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes. "You don’t understand. I feel like I’m going to die, like something’s going to take me away from them. And then what? What happens to them if I’m gone?"

Tommy reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Joel’s shoulder. "We’ll take care of them, Joel. You’re not alone in this."

Joel’s tears began to fall, his voice choked with emotion. "I’m asking you to take Ellie with you. Keep her safe. And let my baby stay here in Jackson. She deserves a life that’s not filled with running and fear."

Tommy’s eyes widened in shock. "Joel, are you sure about this? You’re talking about leaving them behind."

"I’m not leaving them," Joel said, his voice trembling. "I’m trying to protect them. They’ll be safer without me."

Tommy sighed, his heart breaking for his brother. "And what about you, Joel? What happens to you if you leave?"

Joel wiped his tears, trying to steady himself. "I’ll find a way to keep going. I just need to know they’re safe. That’s all that matters."

Tommy nodded slowly, understanding the depth of Joel’s fear and love. "Alright, Joel. If this is what you think is best, I’ll take care of them. But you need to talk to them first. They deserve to know why you’re doing this."

Joel nodded, his heart heavy with the weight of his decision. "I will. Thank you, Tommy."

Tommy pulled Joel into a tight embrace; his voice filled with emotion. "We’re family, Joel. We take care of each other."

Joel clung to his brother, the tears flowing freely now. He knew the conversation with you and Ellie would be one of the hardest things he’d ever have to do, but he also knew it was necessary. The fear of losing you both was too great to ignore, and he hoped that, in time, you would understand why he had to make this choice.

Joel walked slowly to Ellie’s room, his heart heavy with the burden of what he was about to do. He knew this conversation would be one of the hardest of his life, but he also believed it was necessary. He took a deep breath and knocked softly on her door.

“Come in,” Ellie’s voice called from inside.

He opened the door and stepped into the room. Ellie was sitting on her bed, reading one of the books she had found in Jackson’s library. She looked up and smiled when she saw him, but her smile faded when she noticed the serious expression on his face.

“Joel, what’s wrong?” she asked, her brows furrowing with concern.

Joel closed the door behind him and sat down on the edge of the bed. He looked at Ellie, her young face full of life and determination, and it made his heart ache.

“Ellie, we need to talk,” he said softly, struggling to find the right words.

Ellie set her book aside and gave him her full attention. “What’s going on?”

Joel took a deep breath, his hands trembling slightly. “Ellie, I’ve been thinking a lot about our journey, about everything we’ve been through. And... about what comes next.”

Ellie shook her head, her voice rising with emotion. “Joel, no. We’re supposed to stick together. We’re a team.”

Joel looked down, unable to meet her eyes. “Ellie, I’m not sure I can keep doing this. The fear... it’s too much. I’m scared something’s going to happen to you, and I won’t be able to protect you.”

Ellie reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “We protect each other, Joel. That’s how we’ve always done it.”

Joel swallowed hard, his voice breaking. “I’m asking Tommy to take you to the fireflies. He’ll keep you safe until you arrive to the hospital.”

Ellie’s eyes filled with tears, and she shook her head fiercely. “No, Joel. I’m not going without you. We’ve come this far together, and I’m not leaving you.”

Joel’s heart ached at her words, but he forced himself to continue. “Ellie, you need to understand. I’m not... I’m not your father. I can’t be the one to keep you safe forever.”

The words hung heavy in the air, and Ellie’s tears began to fall. “You’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a father, Joel. Don’t you get that? Fuck”

Joel’s own tears threatened to spill over, but he steeled himself. “But you’re not my daughter and I’m not your father.”

Ellie shook her head, her voice filled with desperation. “No, Joel. Please. Don’t do this. We need you.”

Joel reached out, cupping her face in his hands. “I need you to trust me, Ellie. This is the best way to keep you safe.”

Ellie pulled away from his touch, her face a mix of anger and heartbreak. “I don’t want to be safe if it means losing you. You and her are all I have, Joel.”

Joel stood up, his heart shattering at her words. “I’m sorry, Ellie. But this is how it has to be.”

He turned and walked toward the door, each step feeling like a lead weight. He paused at the doorway, looking back at Ellie one last time.

With that, he walked out of the room, closing the door softly behind him. He leaned against the wall, his heart breaking at the sound of Ellie’s muffled sobs. He knew this was one of the hardest decisions he had ever made, but he believed it was the right one.

As he stood there, trying to compose himself, he heard footsteps approaching. You appeared at the end of the hallway, having heard the conversation. Your eyes met his, and in that moment, he saw the same mix of anger, hurt, and confusion that Ellie had shown.

You approached Joel slowly, your face a mix of anger and hurt. He could see the questions in your eyes, the need for an explanation that would make sense of the pain he had caused.

"Joel," you said, your voice trembling. "What are you doing?"

Joel looked down, unable to meet your gaze. "I'm trying to keep you both safe. You and Ellie. This place, Jackson... it's where you can have a real life."

Your eyes narrowed, and you took a step closer. "And you think abandoning us is the way to do that? How could you even consider leaving us behind?"

Joel sighed, his shoulders slumping. "It's not abandoning you. It's making sure you're protected. If something happens to me—"

You cut him off, your voice rising with emotion. "Don't you get it, Joel? We need you. Ellie needs you. I need you. You're the reason we've made it this far. You can't just walk away."

Joel's eyes were filled with pain as he looked up at you. "I can't shake the fear that I'm going to die, that I won't be there when you need me most. I thought if I left, you'd be safer."

You stepped even closer, your anger giving way to desperation. "Safer? Joel, we've faced everything together. We protect each other. How can you think we'd be better off without you? How can you think I would be better off without you?""

Joel's voice was barely a whisper. "Because I can't bear the thought of losing you.”

Your heart ached at his words, but you knew you had to make him understand. You reached out, taking his hands in yours. "Joel, I love you. I need you with me, not just for protection, but because you're my love. Leaving me won't keep me safe; it'll break me."

Joel looked at you, tears welling in his eyes. "I don't know if I can do this. The fear is... it's too much."

You squeezed his hands, your voice gentle but firm. "We'll face it together, Joel. Just like we always have. You're not alone in this. Please, don't leave me."

Joel pulled you into a tight embrace, his tears finally spilling over. "I'm so scared," he admitted, his voice choked with emotion.

You held him close, your own tears falling. "I know, Joel. But we're stronger together. I need you. Ellie and I need you"

As you stood there, holding each other in the quiet of the hallway, Joel felt the weight of his fear begin to lift. The love and determination in your voice gave him the strength he needed to keep going. At least for a bit.

After a long moment, Joel pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I was trying to do the right thing.”

You nodded; your heart full of relief. "We'll figure it out, Joel. Together."

Joel took a deep breath, cupping your face in his hands. “I love you so much,” he said, pecking your lips.

Your heart swelled with emotion as you returned his kiss, a soft, reassuring touch. “I love you too, Joel,” you whispered, your voice steady with conviction.

Joel rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as if trying to etch this moment into his memory. “I just don’t want to lose you or Ellie. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to either of you.”

You stroked his cheek, your thumb brushing away a stray tear. “We’re not going anywhere, Joel. We’ve made it through so much already, and we’ll keep making it through. Together.”

He nodded, pulling you into a tighter embrace, the warmth of his body a comforting reminder of his presence. “Together,” he repeated, his voice more confident now.

You pulled back slightly from the embrace, looking up into Joel’s eyes. "Come on," you said softly, taking his hand. "Let’s get cleaned up. It’s been a long day."

He nodded, allowing you to lead him down the hall to the bathroom. The room was small, but it had a functioning shower—one of the many luxuries you had come to appreciate in this place. You turned on the water, adjusting the temperature until it was just right.

Joel stood there, watching you with an exhaustion and adoration. He started to undress, his movements were slow You did the same, your eyes meeting his with every piece of clothing that fell to the floor. There was an unspoken understanding between you. Both of you bared int front of each other, stealing glances of your bodies in display.

Once you were both undressed, you stepped into the shower together. The warm water cascaded over your bodies, washing away the grime and tension of the day. You reached for the soap, lathering it between your hands before gently running them over Joel’s shoulders and back.

He sighed, leaning into your touch. "You don’t have to do this," he murmured.

"I want to," you replied, your voice tender. "Let me take care of you." You said, pressing a kiss on his wet shoulder.

You continued to wash him, your hands moving in soothing, circular motions. The warmth of the water and the intimacy of the moment began to ease the tension in his muscles. When you reached his hair, you took the shampoo and began to work it into a lather, your fingers massaging his scalp.

Joel closed his eyes, a soft groan escaping his lips. "That feels nice," he admitted.

You smiled, continuing to wash his hair with gentle care. "Good. You deserve to relax."

After rinsing the shampoo from his hair, you handed him the soap. "Your turn," you said with a playful smile.

He took the soap, his hands surprisingly gentle as he began to wash your shoulders and back. The feel of his strong, calloused hands against your skin was comforting, a reminder of how much you meant to each other. He took his time, his touch tender and affectionate, showing the love he felt for you.

When he reached your hair, he repeated the process, his fingers working the shampoo through your locks with the same care you had shown him. You closed your eyes, savoring the sensation of his hands in your hair and the warmth of the water cascading over you.

For a while, the two of you stood there, simply enjoying the closeness and the rare moment of peace. The world outside might be filled with danger and uncertainty, but here, in this small bathroom, there was only love.

When you were both clean, you turned off the water and reached for a towel, wrapping it around Joel’s shoulders before taking another for yourself. You helped each other dry off, the intimacy of the moment deepening the existent bond between you.

Joel looked at you, his eyes filled with gratitude and love. "Thank you," he said softly.

You cupped his face in your hands, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "We’re in this together, Joel. Always."

He nodded, pulling you into a tight embrace. "Together," he echoed.

As you both stood there in the warmth of the bathroom, wrapped in towels and each other's embrace, the bond between you felt stronger than ever. The fear and uncertainty of the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the love and trust you had for each other.

Joel kissed the top of your head and took your hand, leading you back to the bedroom. The soft glow of the lamp illuminated the bedroom, casting a warm, golden hue over the room. You both moved slowly, savoring the peaceful moment.

You helped Joel into bed, making sure he was comfortable before slipping in beside him. He pulled you close, his arms wrapped protectively around you. The simple act of being in his arms felt like the safest place in the world.

Joel tilted his head slightly, his lips brushing against your forehead as he spoke. "I love you so much," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "More than I can ever put into words."

You looked up at him, your heart swelling at the raw honesty in his eyes. "I love you too, Joel. So much."

He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "I don't think I've ever felt this way before. I mean, caring this much for someone. Not since Sarah. And it's... it's scary. But it's also the most wonderful thing I’ve ever felt."

Your heart ached for him at the mention of Sarah, but you knew how important it was for Joel to express his feelings. You placed a gentle hand on his cheek, your thumb brushing against his stubble. "It's okay to be scared, Joel. But you're not alone in this. We’re in it together."

Joel nodded, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "You've given me something I thought I’d lost forever. Hope. A reason to keep fighting. And I want you to know that I’ll do everything I can to protect you, to make sure we have a future together."

You leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to his lips. "We’ll protect each other. And we’ll build that future, one day at a time."

He wrapped his arms around you tighter, holding you close as if trying to memorize the feeling of having you in his arms. "I promise you, I'll never let anything happen to you. You and Ellie mean everything to me."

You snuggled closer, your head resting on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. "And you mean everything to us, Joel. We're stronger together."

Joel sighed contentedly, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your back. "Thank you for standing by me, for believing in me. I don't know what I’d do without you."

You smiled against his chest, feeling the warmth of his love envelop you. "You'll never have to find out, because I'm not going anywhere."

With that, you both drifted into a peaceful sleep, the worries of the world outside momentarily forgotten. In each other's arms, you found solace and strength, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead together.

Hours later, Joel woke up in the middle of the night, the room shrouded in darkness. He instinctively reached out for you, but his hand found only empty space. Panic surged through him, his heart pounding as he sat up, his eyes scanning the room.

"Baby, where are you?" he muttered, throwing the blankets aside as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He quickly pulled on his pants and a shirt, his movements hurried and frantic. The fear of losing you, so deeply ingrained in his mind, took hold as he rushed out of the bedroom.

He moved swiftly down the hallway, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. Had something happened? Had someone taken you? The thoughts were unbearable. He reached the top of the stairs and bolted down them, nearly stumbling in his haste.

When he reached the bottom, he paused, his eyes darting around the living room. Relief washed over him as he saw you sitting on the couch, a cup of tea cradled in your hands. You looked up, startled by his sudden appearance.

"Joel, what’s wrong?" you asked, concern etching your features.

He let out a shaky breath, his heart still racing. "I woke up and you weren’t there," he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I thought something had happened to you."

You set your tea down on the table and stood up, crossing the room to him. "I’m sorry," you said softly, reaching out to touch his arm. "I couldn’t sleep, so I came down to make some tea. I didn’t mean to scare you."

He pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you as if to reassure himself that you were really there. "It’s okay," he murmured into your hair. "I just...I can’t bear the thought of losing you."

You held him just as tightly, feeling the intensity of his emotions. "You won’t lose me, Joel. I promise."

He nodded, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes. "I know. It’s just...sometimes the fear gets the better of me."

You cupped his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing over his cheeks. "I understand," you said gently. "But we’re safe here. We have each other."

He sighed, the tension slowly easing from his body. "Yeah, we do."

"Come on," you said, taking his hand and leading him to the couch. "Sit with me for a while. The tea is still warm."

He followed you, sitting down beside you on the couch. You picked up your cup and handed it to him. "Here, takes a sip. It’ll help you relax."

He took the cup, his hands still slightly trembling. He sipped the tea, the warmth spreading through him, helping to calm his nerves. "Thanks," he said, his voice steadier.

You leaned against him, your head resting on his shoulder. "We’ll get through this, Joel. Together."

He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer. "Yeah, we will."

The two of you sat there in the quiet of the night, the warmth of the tea and the comfort of each other’s presence soothing the fears that had momentarily overwhelmed him. In that moment, Joel felt a renewed sense of peace, knowing that as long as you were by his side, he could face anything the future held.

As the minutes passed, the tension in Joel's body melted away. He looked down at you, your eyes closed, content and calm. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I love you," he whispered, the words carrying all the weight of his heart.

"I love you too," you replied softly, without opening your eyes.

Joel took another sip of the tea, its warmth soothing him from the inside out. The night was still and quiet, a rare tranquility enveloping your home. He gazed around the room, taking in the modest, yet comforting surroundings. This place, this sanctuary in Jackson, could become more than just a shelter. A home.

You snuggled closer to him, and Joel felt a profound sense of gratitude. For the first time in a long time, he allowed himself to truly believe in the possibility of a future filled with hope and love. The horrors of the past, the constant threats of the present, they all seemed a little more bearable with you by his side.

"We’ve been through so much," he said quietly, his fingers gently stroking your hair. "But sitting here with you, it makes it all worth it."

You opened your eyes and looked up at him, a soft smile playing on your lips. "We’ve found something real, Joel. Something worth fighting for. And no matter what comes our way, we’ll face it together."

Joel nodded, feeling the truth of your words settle deep within him. "Together," he echoed, his voice filled with conviction. "Always."

The two of you sat there in the stillness, the warmth of each other's presence a balm for your souls. Joel felt a sense of peace he hadn't known in years. With you, he had found a reason to hope, to believe in a better tomorrow.

As the night wore on, the exhaustion of the day began to catch up with him. You noticed his eyelids growing heavy and gently took the cup from his hands, setting it on the table. "Come on," you whispered, standing up and offering your hand. "Let’s get some rest."

Joel took your hand and allowed you to lead him back to the bedroom. The room was still bathed in the soft glow of the lamp, casting a warm light over the bed. You both slipped under the covers, and Joel pulled you close, your bodies fitting together perfectly.

With you in his arms, the fear and anxiety that had plagued him earlier faded away. The rhythm of your breathing, the steady beat of your heart against his chest, all served as a reminder of the love and strength you shared.

"Goodnight, Joel," you murmured, your voice filled with tenderness. "Goodnight," he replied, pressing a final kiss to your forehead.

As he closed his eyes, Joel felt a deep sense of contentment. No matter what the future held, he knew that with you by his side, he could face it all. Together, you had built something beautiful amidst the chaos, and that was something worth holding on to.

In the quiet darkness, with you in his arms, Joel finally allowed himself to drift into a peaceful sleep, dreaming of the life you would continue to build together, one filled with love, hope, and endless possibilities.

[semiweirdshipper]

Slashers as fathers with a (teenage) reader.

Notes: 100% NON-ROMANTIC. Platonic love only. Non-binary reader. The reader is a young teenager (you decide the age). Freddy is alive and NOT a pedophile.

Summary: The slasher fathers feeling guilty after hurting their child's feelings. PART TWO. Hurt/comfort addition.

Folks who wanted to be tagged. @hope4rain19, @minaxcarter, @brooke-stinson, @urminebutidontwantyou, @gaipplrhot, @gyarukitti, @raphydude, @thelxapeia, @ant1d3pre55ant5add1ct, @decentsoupperson, @kawaistrawberry21.

Freddy Krueger

Freddy sighed as he stomped to your room in search of his laptop. You had been in such a rush this morning to get to school that you had accidentally left it in there. And while he always respected your wishes for him to never enter your room, he really needed his laptop. Sacrifices need be made some times.

However, as Freddy wandered into your room, he was met with a sight that literally stole his breath. Your bed was completely littered with folders and painted canvas boards. There was a large portfolio bag laying on the ground with its contents scattered everywhere. Painting and drawing utensils alike sat scattered over a table with a still wet painting taped atop.

Eyes ridiculously wide, Freddy looked around and deeply observed the area. He didn't know you owned any of this stuff. Paintings, oil canvases, drawings and sketches, and all of them were yours. And each piece looked really, really good. Freddy couldn't believe what was happening right now.

He thought you gave up on art.

Delicately picking up multiple art pieces, a happiness and sense of pride rushed through Freddy's heart, and he found himself grinning big in a mixture of relief and utter joy. You still loved art, and you were so good at it. He hadn't destroyed your passion after all. That being said though... Why would you hide this from him?

Later that day when you came home, Freddy asked you to go to the kitchen. When you went inside, you froze right on the spot. There, scattered all across the kitchen table, were multiple art projects of yours.

"Dad..." You choked, your heart racing in fear, your words stolen from you, "I..."

"I needed my laptop and uh... Accidentally found these," Freddy explained, a happy smile covering his face as he went to grab your shoulders, "Sweetie, why would you hide this from-"

"I told you not to go in there." You almost shouted, tears blurring your eyes as you pulled away from him.

"Sweetie," Freddy took a step back, hurt by your defensive attitude.

You went to the table and quickly began to gather up your art work. Freddy chased after you to try and get you to stop, "No, stop it. Don't do that- just-just wait a sec, I-"

"I get it, dad, you hate it. You've always hated my art. You-just... J-just leave me alone. Don't touch it, ok," You avoided eye contact while scurrying to protect your work, "I'll put it away."

"No, that's not what I want. (y/n). (y/n), will you please look at me. Hey," Freddy placed a hand on your shoulder and kept you from stomping off, "(y/n), look at me."

With a tense body and watery eyes, you looked at him, art work clutched to your chest and a glare covering your face.

Freddy sighed and said in earnest, "That's not what I want. Your art, I love it. I think it's beautiful an-and amazing! I-I mean, all this time? Really? I thought you gave up on it, I... I thought that I..."

Relaxing, you lowered your arms and looked him straight in the eyes. It felt like your heart had just done a summersault in your chest. "You... You mean it? You... You really like my art?"

"I love it!" Freddy exclaimed almost too quickly, "I love it so much, you have no idea. You have no idea how happy this makes me, (y/n). I thought that I ruined art for you. I... I never stopped feeling guilty about what I did. And I always hoped that one day you would start again, but..."

"Dad," You bit your lip hard in an attempt not to cry. He cared. He actually cared, and he loved your art. He was happy for you.

"Here," Freddy went to grab an old folder off the table.

Suspicious, you set down your art and went to take the folder. When you opened it, you saw dozens of old, un-crumpled papers with very distinct, familiar drawings on them. It took a minute, but you soon realized that these were the very drawings you had thrown away when you were little.

"You... Kept them?" You gaped at your dad, your heart aching in a happy/sad way.

"Of course I did," Freddy's smile wobbled a bit, "I love you and I love everything you do, and I'm so, so sorry for making you feel bad, f-for making you feel like you had to hide this from me."

Lowering the folder, you felt your lips wobble as your heart clenched in great happiness and relief. All this time you believed your dad hated your passion. He had hurt you so badly, but he regretted it. He had always regretted it, and he loved your work.

In a desperate attempt to hide your tears, you rush up to your dad and give him a big hug. Freddy held you as tightly as he could, his arms fierce and protective as he said, "Don't ever give up on your art, (y/n). No matter what, please. I love you so much."

Michael Myers

Michael had wandered out of the garage a few minutes after your friend's dad dropped you off. "Me and (friend's name) are gonna grab a snack real quick, k dad?" You had hollered while rushing into the house.

Rolling his eyes a bit, Michael approached the other man who casually got out of the car. He was grinning big at you and his own kid, seemingly proud and full of joy. "My god, man," He said mindlessly, smiling at Michael, "I tell ya, that was one hell of a game today. Whoo, and (y/n)? My god, they were great."

Puzzled and confused, Michael could only tilt his head in wonder. Game? What game?

The man shook his head and gave Michael an even more puzzled look than he himself sported, "Hey, how come I never see you at any of their games? Rough job or something?"

Michael's silence and confused expression urged the man to explain more.

"You know, the (sport) game? Just had one today- what a show I tell ya. But, I just- I never see you there, you know?"

At that, Michael's eyes went unspeakably wide. (sport)? You were playing (sport)? What? For how long? Why didn't he know about this? He thought you quit playing that when you were little. What was going on?

A week later and Michael was sitting amongst the crowd that was watching your (sport) game. You didn't know he was there. You didn't even know that he knew all your secrets like the fact that you had been playing (sport) for years, how you had won two trophies, the fact that this is where you spent most of your time at, and so on and so forth.

While watching the game, Michael couldn't help but to feel a deep sense of pride, relief and great joy at seeing how passionately you played and how much fun you were having. And you were so talented at it. The other team didn't stand a chance. You had grown so much since you were little. To this day his own actions still haunted him.

He hurt you. He 'scarred' you. And, although you continued doing what you loved, you had still felt the need to hide it from him, for years. He did that. He had made you feel so anxious and insecure that you felt the need to hide your greatest passion from him.

What kind of father does that to their child?

Unsurprisingly, your team won the game, and Michael couldn't be more proud or excited. Once the crowd and commotion calmed down, he patiently waited on you to exit the changing rooms. The way you hid yourself...

Michael gazed around at all the happy families congratulating and/or comforting their kids. It crushed his heart thinking about the sheer loneliness you expressed after the game ended and you had no one to celebrate with aside from your team mates.

When you came out of the changing room, Michael straightened his posture and faced you. It took you a minute, but eventually you looked up, saw him, and froze. A gasp escaped your mouth while your backpack fell from your shoulder to your shaken hand.

Michael's chest ached at the sight of your frightened, horrified face as you frantically looked around as if for an escape. Quickly he approached you and said in sign language, "That was a good game."

"Dad," You stepped away from him, panicked, "I-it's not what you think-I... I-I was just-I'm..."

You were scared, Michael realized, guilt beating on him like a hundred hammers. He waved his hand at you to get your attention, "Why didn't you tell me you were playing (sport)?"

"I..." You stare at him in great panic that melted into sadness and fear. You dropped your backpack and covered your face, saying brokenly, "I'm sorry, dad. I... I didn't mean to. Don't be mad, please, I-I... I'll stop playing it."

What? Micheal rushed to you and went to gently pull your hands away from your flushed face. What had he done? "No, I'm not mad. Please stop panicking. I'm not mad. Not at all."

Confused, you look at him through tear colored vision.

"I just found out you were playing (sport). You even have trophies. (y/n), why did you keep this from me?"

"Because," You winced, "You said I wasn't good at it. You... You hate me for it. I... I just wanted to be happy. I... I didn't mean to..."

He couldn't believe how upset you were, and all because he found out that you were doing what you loved. Marching up to you, Michael pulled you into a big hug that lasted for several minutes. When he noticed you calm down, he moved back a bit and explained.

"I was an idiot back then. I never should have said those things to you, (y/n). I've always felt bad for how I made you feel. You're not bad at (sport) and I never wanted you to stop playing. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I made you feel this way."

You were shocked speechless, so Michael pulled you into another hug. You hugged back, relieved. He wasn't mad at you. He apologized. Everything was going to be alright.

Bo Sinclair

Bo lived in a very, very small town. Everyone knew each other and every piece of information that existed on the surface. Rumors spread and gossip filled the air like pollen. So it didn't take very long for Bo to learn that you had been practicing engineering with the car shop just down the road.

At first Bo had been ecstatic. You were still interested in engineering? He thought you didn't want to do that anymore; you said so yourself. Ever since the incident when you were little, you hadn't helped him with anything physically constructive- not even stuff as simple as hanging a picture on the wall.

Pretty much everyone praised you and said that you were doing a tremendous job. Your skill towards fixing vehicles was a natural, golden talent. You were an impressive, fast learner and everyone loved and appreciated you.

But when Bo tried to approach you about this exciting news, he was confused to hear you deny all of it. You shut his exclamations off and said that the towns people were lying. You claimed to have nothing to do with engineering. Yes, you hung around the car shop, but nothing was going on, you were just bored.

Bo didn't understand it. Why would you lie to him about this? He knew that the towns people weren't making this up- just ask the guy who took a picture of you and your buddies covered in grease while working on a truck engine. You looked so happy. Why was that something to lie about?

For the life of him, Bo could not figure out what was going on with you. Obviously you were lying to him, but he couldn't get you to explain why. It was as if you were completely and utterly avoiding him now, and it was driving him crazy.

So Bo reached out for help.

"Well," Your engineering teacher said in a tense tone, "I talked to em an' they said it's 'cause they don't wanna make ya mad."

"Huh?" Bo shook his head in exaggeration. What did that even mean?

Your teacher gave him a wearisome look, "I think they're afraid you're gonna blow a gasket on em if they do somethin' wrong. I take it that... you got a short temp?"

At that question, Bo was immediately rushed with memories of the past, and he found himself feeling overwhelmed with guilt and dread. That time he got mad at you when you were little, you didn't just give up on engineering. You gave up on everything that had to do with him. Was this why? Because you were afraid that he would get mad at you if you messed up or made a mistake?

You were afraid of his temper.

Coming to realization, Bo spent quite a while trying to figure out how he should approach you. He wasn't the best at emotions or having deep conversations. If he tried to explain himself he feared he would just say something stupid and cause you to be more upset with him.

So he waited for the perfect moment.

A couple weeks later, Bo dragged you to his shop to show you something that caused your mouth to fall open in awe. "Ram 3500, 2018. An' look at'er license plate."

Gasping the name of the state the enormous truck was from, you faced your dad with absolute excitement and disbelief, "Why's it here?"

"Ah, a little transmission trouble on the road," Bo smiled and slung an arm around your shoulder, "Nice huh? She's a beauty. Needs lotta' work, fast, an' I want 'you' to help me."

"What?" Your behavior changed drastically, "Dad-"

"Look, I've already heard all the gossip. I've seen ya work at the shop. I know you know what you're doin', (y/n)," Bo went to stand in front of you. "But what I don't understand is why ya don't wanna work with me."

"It's not... I just..." You sighed and looked at the ground, lost on what to say. A pain filled your chest as you admitted quietly, "I ain't perfect, dad, I... I make mistakes."

"And?" Bo pushed for a better answer.

His impatience and lack of understanding made you snap, "An' you can't handle that. Every time I mess up even the tiniest bit, you get mad at me. What do you expect me to do, huh? I'm only (age)."

Going silent, Bo relaxed upon learning what exactly your insecurity was. You were avoiding him because you were afraid of him getting mad at you for making mistakes. He did this. He put this fear in you, made you this way. And because of that, you were both teetering on the edge of complete life separation.

"(y/n)," Bo reached out and put a hand on your shoulder, "I'm sorry."

Your entire body froze.

"I... never meant to make ya feel this way. I know ya ain't perfect. You're still learnin' an' you've got a long ways to go, but... I wanna be there for you, (y/n). I wanna help you. I wanna watch ya grow, an' I can't do that if ya ain't around... I'm better than I used to be. So if you mess up, I ain't gettin' mad. I'm helping you, because that's what fathers do."

Shot by your dad's moving words, you find yourself staring at him for a long moment before a large smile bloomed across your face. "Right dad," You say, "Let's take a look at her."

With his heart skipping over the moon, Bo grinned and thanked the very stars themselves for this moment, and he lead you to your first shared project since you were a mere, little kid.

Hannibal Lecter

One night Hannibal got bored and lonely and decided to go to Will's house which was where you liked to spend lots of time at. He didn't mind you staying with Will, but some times he himself felt a little bit left out.

When he arrived at Will's house, he quietly made way up the stairs of the porch and temporarily paused just outside of the window. Casually peeking in, Hannibal spotted Will sitting at the dining table reading a newspaper while you stood in front of the stove in the kitchen. Your sleeves were clumsily rolled up and you had a apron on.

The motions of your arms and the state of the kitchen did not lie. You were cooking. You were quite literally cooking food right in front of him. Hannibal couldn't help but to release a small shudder of mixed emotions. It had been years since he last saw you cook- years since he demolished your feelings and forced you away from the passion you both once shared.

To see you cooking now? It made Hannibal erupt with questions and emotions. How long had this been going on? What were you cooking? Why were you cooking? How come he didn't know? Were you happy? Was this why you always spent so much time with Will?

Speaking oh whom, Hannibal watched as you handed out a spoon to which Will stood up to receive. Taking a taste of the spoon, Will made a bright face and reached out for a container of spice. You smiled, laughed and nodded, happily going to add some of the recommended spice to your dish.

Grinning, Hannibal couldn't help but to feel great pride. So, you could handle personal opinions and constructive criticism? What an astounding chef you turned out to be, and you looked so happy too.

Regaining his composure, Hannibal straightened his hair and went to knock on the door.

It took over five minutes for Will to answer.

By that time, things had grown to be rather chaotic. Now only did Will claim that you had gone to bed, but that he also was the one responsible for the late night meal.

Hannibal knew better though.

Whilst you pretended to sleep in the guest bedroom, Will and Hannibal stood in the kitchen gazing around at all your hard work.

"They told me what happened when they were little," Will said, a disappointed look on his face, "How could you say that to them, doc?"

Hannibal stared down at your unfinished dish, his heart clenching in memory of the past. "I spoke out of impulse. I didn't mean to cause them this much insecurity." To think you would go out of your way to lie to him. "How long has this affair been going on?"

"I don't know. Few years?" Will shrugged, "I was cooking macaroni one day, they asked to help and... The ship set sail, I guess."

"You reignited their flame," Hannibal huffed and smiled, "I'm grateful."

"Ever thought about apologizing?" Will asked.

"I have," Hannibal said softly, "However, they refuse to have anything to do with cooking."

"You told them that they were a horrible cook and a waste of time in the kitchen. What did you expect would happen?"

Hannibal bowed his head in shame. He hurt you, more than he had ever imagined. After all these years he believed that you had moved on and found different passions, but instead you clung to cooking and desperately sought hiding it from him because of fear. What kind of father was he to do that to you?

The next morning after the drive home, Hannibal kept you in the car to say, "(y/n). I know it was you who cooked at Wills the other night. I saw."

Having been dreading this exact conversation, you flushed darkly and turned your head away in great shame, sadness and fear. "I'm sorry."

"Please do not apologize," Hannibal cursed at himself for how anxious he made you feel, "I am more grateful than you could ever know."

That stirred a confused reaction from you.

"(y/n), you do not have to accept my apology, but I want you to promise me that you will continue to do what you enjoy, especially if it is cooking." Hannibal looked to you hopefully. "Seeing how happy you were... You have no idea how much joy it brought me. I thought I had destroyed your passion, but..."

Now completely facing your dad, your mouth was agape and your heart pounding furiously with emotions.

"I've always regretted what I said to you that day. It was rude and improper, and most certainly untrue. You are an astounding cook and I'm proud of you. I'm sorry that I hurt you, but, even if you do not wish to forgive me, I hope that you will always continue to do what you love."

Looking at your dad with watery eyes, you blinked and fought for the right words to respond with. All these years you had been terrified of your dad's wrath and disapproval when it came to cooking. He was right, he did hurt you, and the pain was still lingering inside you.

Even though what he said now brought you some form of relief and comfort, you couldn't help but to still feel a little bit of lingering hurt. "I... I need time." You reply quietly.

Hannibal nodded in understanding, "And time you shall have. I will always be here to support you."

-

If I made a part three, it could be about the reader still suffering some anxiety while doing their passion around their dad. And the slasher dads' will be nothing but happy, supportive and proud. You know, just casual comfort and fluff.

[christinesficrecs]

Happy Saturday! Enjoy these brilliant fics. 🩷

I don’t know why, but I guess it has something to do with you by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 17.8K

“You smell like me,” the guy says, scowling as he crowds in and Stiles staggers back between the coats and finally hits the wall. “Why do you smell like me?”

He barely lets out a garbled sound as the blood rushes to his cheeks. “No reason,” Stiles yelps, struggling to get his footing and grasping at a whirlwind of puffy fur.

His Only Defense by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 78.7K

Stiles had just accidentally challenged an alpha.

Oh God, and Scott had just stood by and let him do it. He was the worst best friend ever. Stiles was going to kill him. Except, oh right, the alpha was going to kill him first. Like beyond dead, ripped into tiny little pieces dead. So far dead that his dad would not be able to identify him, dead.

Laying Groundwork by  LunaCanisLupus_22 | 10.9K

The one where Scott and Stiles go clubbing and there’s this broody Bouncer out to get Stiles-

Or get into his pants. Thank God it’s the latter.

Give you that thing you can’t even imagine by  LunaCanisLupus_22 | 10.9K

The one where mateless Derek thinks no omega can affect him like they do other alphas and he’s about to find out he’s very, very wrong.

Shot Through The Heart by  LunaCanisLupus_22 | 64.8K

The one when Stiles and Derek work for rival assassin companies and are sent to kill each other. It definitely doesn’t go as planned.

Foolish devouring things, build your castle in me by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 23.1K

“I will marry you,” he declares. “But should any more harm come to my father or my people, I will raze the earth itself until I feel the lifeblood drain from your corpse and paint my skin with it.”

It is not an idle warning, but from the princeling it has none of the desired effect. Derek feels no fear, but in this instance at least diplomacy triumphed over the spilling of more blood. It is all the same to him anyway. But Regent Peter was most insistent they avoid a drawn-out, gruelling war.

“Then we have reached an accord.”

Oh baby give me one more chance (to show you that I love you) by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 54.7K

“You like Derek,” he says slowly. “Derek Hale.”

His father grimaces at the accusation there. “Look, Stiles it’s complicated-“

“So when I was married to him,” he continues, voice rising. “He wasn’t good enough. He was taking advantage of me. ‘He’ll never be able to love you like you want, Stiles’. That’s what you said-“

Or the Sweet Home Alabama AU that nobody asked for.

I'm at one, and I've been quiet for too long by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 11.4K

“All in favour of Derek not dating for a full year so he can get his shit together and stop romancing people who want to kill us?”

Everyone raises their hands. Every single pack member.

Or the one where the pack insists Derek can't date anybody for a year but he ends up finding romance much closer to home anyway.

I know that you love me, even when I lose my head by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 135.5K

“We’re not mates, Cora,” he insists. “I mean look at him-“

“Ouch,” the kid says, no longer pushing that shit eating grin.

“He’s- he’s,” Derek tries, at a loss of how to explain why this can’t be possible. Why it shouldn’t be possible.

When sparks fly by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 87.5K | Abandoned

“Derek,” Stiles thunders. “Were you ever going to tell me your house is trying to hook us up?”

Derek’s head snaps up, eyes wide and scenting the evident crackle of magic in the air.

I'll wrap up my bones, And leave them by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 65.1K

The sign on the cage actually reads Beware: The Beast! in that crappy horror movie red paint that trickles down the paper in a failed attempt to appear like dripping blood.

And it would seem stupid if not for the living supernatural creature currently trapped behind its bars. Little hard to dismiss the big, hulking werewolf as a poorly constructed horror movie prop.

Oh how the mighty have fallen. Dude, cannot catch a break.

How long have I been on the hunt for you? by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 20.3K

“Well I guess accidental kidnapping is not so bad then,” Scott decided brightly after the others had finished describing their ordeals. “All’s well that ends well, right?”

“HAHA,” Stiles practically shouted, loud and unsettling enough that everyone turned to look at him. “I mean, yep. For. Sure.”

[oh-koenig-my-koenig]

(cw: age gap 25/41; nsfw, mdni 18+, playing catch, smut, buttstuff ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°))

the part before: lazy evenings - also check out the "spending time with mh!k" parts which kind of happen in between <3

Going for a walk

...has become one of our usual weekend activities. At least to get ourselves out of the house for a little while, get some fresh air and not coop up inside the whole time. The little patches of forest right outside his house are perfect for that.

I put on my fluffy socks, which are pink in contrast to the all black clothes I’m wearing. König looks at them and bites back a laugh.

“What? My feet get cold easily.”, I tell him, defensively.

“Oh, I know.”, he says. “I’ve had the pleasure of warming those Eiszapfen before.” (icicles)

We put our shoes on, also getting some jackets, because there is a gentle breeze blowing today, and head out the patio door. My DocMartens right beside his combat boots, and the contrast between them makes me grin inwardly. I push my hand into his, tugging on his arm, so we start walking.

The sun is fighting its way through the clouds, the sky overcast and gloomy. It had been raining the whole night, so the path into the little patches of forest is muddy, fresh rainwater puddles sitting on the forest ground. I accidentally step into one of them, mud splashing in all directions.

“Careful, you'll get those nice shoes dirty.”, he quips, looking down at them.

“They're here to get dirty, silly.”, I clap back.

He pulls up his eyebrows. “I wasn’t sure you knew that.”

I shoot him a look. “Shut up, they’re just new.”, I explain, looking down at his worn-out dirty boots that surely have seen better days. “At least mine have been made in this century.”, I jab at him, trying to hide my grin.

“Yeah, yeah.”, he grumbles, but he also pulls me closer, lifting my hand up to his lips and pressing a kiss onto the knuckles.

The last time we went for a walk out here, I tried to climb him like a tree because my intrusive thoughts won. I mean, who wouldn’t wanna be high up? I still remember how it felt to sit on his shoulders when we were at the concert, so I just couldn't resist.

“Hold still.”

“What are you doing?”

“I said, hold still.”

“Wos wird des, wonn’s fertig is?“

“I don’t speak your language, funny big man. Just stay still, so I can climb you like a tree.”

“Like a- a tree?”

“Yes.”

“I mean, you can climb me any day, Kleine.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Are you actually trying to climb me like a tree?”

“Yes, now hold still.”

He sighed, a laughter shaking his chest as I lifted my weight up by his shoulders, stepping on his thigh to move further up.

“That tickles.”, he grumbled when my fingers buried into his back muscles.

He finally just lifted me up, so I could sit on his shoulders which was as fun as I remembered it from the concert, but turned out to be a safety hazard because of all the tree branches higher up.

This time I’m not trying anything like that, also it would be quite daring to put my muddy shoes onto him. I mean, I’m more than sure that he can handle a little dirt, but still.

I’m taking two steps for his one, the pace making me pant. I pick up speed, taking bigger steps to keep up, but in turn he does the same until we’re both doing lunges across the forest ground, laughing like stupid.

I shake my head and slip out of his hold, darting away from him before turning around to look back at him, grinning in his direction.

“Whatcha doing now?”, he asks, a little edge in his voice.

“Can't catch me!”, I tell him, sticking out my tongue before I run towards a tree, hiding behind it.

I see his face light up in a grin, taking a few steps into my direction, and I can't suppress the little giggle that rises up my throat as I see him stalking towards me, calm and collected, no rush in his strides.

A little flurry of excitement rushes up my spine when he comes closer and I stumble a few steps back, my eyes not leaving his. He's looking at me, from under his eyebrows, the grin on his face turning into smirk, his strides getting bigger, the sounds of leaves and breaking branches under the soles of his boots, the squelching of mud accompanying every one of our steps.

I run a little bit further into the woods and I can hear him following me. Like Red Riding Hood running from the Big Bad Wolf...

Fuck, this was just meant to be a little fun game of catch, but the implications the situation has… it's getting me worked up, just thinking about it, how it would be like if I actually ran from him, tried to escape from him, until he catches me, certainly not a challenge for the big guy, and has his way with me.

I can feel the pang of need between my legs, a gush of wind making me shiver – or was it my dirty thoughts?

My panting drowns out the rest of the sounds and when I go to hide behind the next tree, a wide one, I don't hear him come round the other side and I almost collide with his chest. A little yelp escapes me before I giggle again, turning around and running the other way, but his arms are too long and he just grabs me, his hands closing around my waist.

“Gotchu, Kleine.”, he whispers into my ear as he pulls me against his chest, engulfing me with his arms and his warm scent. I still giggle while I wiggle in his hold, playfully trying to escape again, but I'm not going anywhere.

“Okay you win.”, I say then, jokingly pouting a little bit.

He turns me around, laughs while he lifts me up, up over his head, way too high up, until we're almost imitating that famous scene from Dirty Dancing which has me yelp and laugh. "König!"

He lowers me down again until I rest against his chest, my hands holding onto his shoulders, my legs closing around his hips, and he leans in to give me kiss. “Now... What's my reward for catching you?”, he asks, a spark of mischief in his eyes, not being serious at all.

But I'm also very willing to take our playful spat in that direction. And there is something that has been in the back of my mind, the last few times we had sex, something that I wanted to try, even though I'm not entirely sure he'll fit.

“You know what we talked about? Doing something different?”, I start, a little smirk stalking onto my lips.

He perks up. “You mean...” He lifts his eyebrows.

I nod. “Yeah.”

“I remember, yes. You want to try today?”, he wants to know.

I nod again. “Yes.”

A slight shiver shakes him, pulling me closer to him. “Are you sure?”, he asks again.

“Yes, König, I'm totally sure.”, I say, trying not to roll my eyes while a big grin forms on my face. It's endearing honestly how he always makes double sure of everything. I just told him that I want to try anal with him – which is a challenge considering his... size – and he is nothing but sweet about it.

“No need to get sassy.”, he chuckles against my lips, but he doesn’t get a move on. He kisses me again and I can feel the frenzy and hunger in it, even before he deepens it.

I’m trying not to squirm in his hold and failing miserably at it, grinding my hips into him which pulls a soft grunt from his lips.

“Then what are we waiting for?”, I whisper, looking up into his eyes.

A hint of surprise lights up his face, but it gives way to a simmering heat. “Your wish is my command, Prinzesserl.”, he drawls, repositioning me in his arms, taking long strides back to his house. Not hurry, but calm determination making his steps even bigger than they normally would be. He’s not even breathing harder as he almost runs, carrying me, which… I knew he was in good shape, but this is just ridiculous.

When we reach the patio, I slip out of his hold and enter the house. I quickly kick off my shoes, just letting them fall onto the floor which makes him shake his head and tut as he closes the back door behind him.

“We can get them later.”, I say, shrugging off my jacket as well, impatiently getting rid of the clothing.

He’s mumbling something under his breath, picking my boots up and quickly putting them and his own away while I run up the stairs. He can’t leave anything dirty, not even for a moment, and I sigh with a bashful smile. I should have known better, the big man and his love for keeping everything cleanly.

He catches up to me a few seconds later, his arm closing around me as he spanks my butt. “You’re lucky you’re this cute.”, he grumbles, hoisting me up. The shoes are quickly forgotten about, my legs closing around his waist again as he carries me to the bed, where he lies me down on the mattress.

He takes his sweet time to prep me, undressing me first before getting rid of his own clothes. Kissing every part of me that is unveiled, his breath coasting over my skin which makes me shiver.

His tongue licking a trail down from my sensitive neck to my nipples, turning to stiff peaks as he softly bites them, sucking, nibbling.

His hands wander further down, brushing over the soft skin of my tummy and hips until his fingertips reach between my legs, finding me shamelessly wet already.

Pushing his thick fingers into my pussy first, getting me even wetter with his languid strokes, before getting up again to fetch the buttplug and lube, two staples that hardly are missing anymore when we have sex, but today they're all the more important.

He's taking some of the slippery liquid, lubing me up and pushing the buttplug in slowly when it fully slips into me and I sigh, getting used to the feeling. He's still playing with my pussy, his thumb doesn't stop drawing circles over my clit until his mouth takes over.

Fuck, I don't think I can ever get enough of that, his lips on the sensitive skin, his hot breath coasting over my wetness, his tongue dipping into me. He knows what gets me going, his touches deliberate, getting me to the edge, softly pushing me over it with his mouth on me. My moans intermingling with the sound of his licks when I come against his mouth.

He's pulling the buttplug out again, pushing his fingers in instead. Just one at first, sliding in easily with how the plug already worked me open, then a second one. He takes more lube, sinking his fingers deeper. His eyes are intently looking at them disappear into my hole, his brows furrowed, but his jaw slack, sucking in small breaths.

He's watching me, my reactions, my small movements, the roll of my hips into his hands. When I breathe out and try to relax again, he slowly adds a third finger, and the stretch is making me gasp, the intensity is making me shake.

With a small shout from my lips, the orgasm hits me unexpectedly. "Coming from just my fingers in your ass? Oh Liebes.", he coos, not stopping to finger-fuck me as I pulse around them.

I pry my eyes open, taking in the soft expression on his face, my chest heaving with deep breaths.

"Fuck, it's so intense.", I say, my fingers brushing over my cheek and lips. "I don't know how you'll fit."

"It will fit, don't worry.", he softly drawls.

When I pull my hands away, he sees the moment of worry and hesitation on my face, the smirk dropping and his hand slipping out.

"We don't have to.", he interjects quickly, crawling over me. "We can stop anytime.

My hand shoots out, cupping his cheek, and he takes it and presses an kiss to the palm. "I want to do it.", I say, looking up at him, feeling the blush creep onto my cheeks. "At least try."

His eyes search mine. "Okay.", he says, pulling me into him.

He turns me around, positioning me on all fours while he kneels behind me. "Like this, you have control over it.", he explains, putting his hands on my hips.

"Okay.", I echo him, taking a deep breath.

He’s getting more lube, spreading it on his length and guiding me back until his tip nudges against my hole.

I gently sink down on his dick, really slow, taking inch by inch. Stopping every so often when it gets too intense. Leaning forward again, easing up, reminding myself to just relax. Relishing the feeling as I’m trying to take all of him.

He brushes my hair to the side, his mouth coasting over my neck, the tickling touches sending shivers over me. "Doing so well, Liebes.", he whispers. "Almost there." His arm closes around me, his hand dropping between my thighs, stroking over my pussy, circling my clit.

I sigh, slumping into his chest, holding onto his thigh, sliding further down until he is fully seated in my ass.

"Good girl.", he drawls, the praise washing over me, when he captures my lips in a searing kiss, and my hand tangles in his hair.

I start moving back and forth, grinding myself against him, his length sliding out and in again. Just a little bit at a time. He groans, softly rolling his hips to meet mine.

"Fuck.", I whine. My movements are getting sloppy quickly, filled to the brim over and over again. I can feel the tension in my lower belly, breaking the kiss while I try to ride him like this, the swell of my ass pressing up against his groin.

All of a sudden, he pulls himself out of me and I whimper at the loss of fullness.  "Fuck, I'm sorry. Need to see your face when you come around my dick.", he breathes.

I turn to the side, so I'm facing him as he places me right on front of him on my back. My knees drop to the side in an instant, and he hums, placing his hands on my thighs, pushing them back to expose me even more.

His eyes drop down and he spits. A dollop of saliva drips onto my pussy, running down to my ass, adding to the wetness and lube.

He's gently pushing in again, and the stretch is making me whine. Fuck, this still is intense. He leans down, his long dark hair falling around us like a curtain. Kissing me, softly nipping the sensitive skin.

"Where's this dick, hm? Tell me.", he whispers while he thrusts languidly, pushing even deeper.

"It's in my ass.", I sigh, the soft sound turning into a moan when his hips meet mine again.

I can feel the smile on his lips against mine. "That's right, and you're taking me so well.", he says.

I whimper, his praise tightening up the intense feeling inside me, and that's before he's picking up tempo, still not fucking me like he usually would. More slow and deep than hard and fast, but with the steady rhythm and how he stretches me out... This is driving me crazy.

Especially when he slips two fingers into my slick pussy, his thumb pressing against my clit as he fills me up to the brim like this.

"Oh fuck.", I curse, my eyes rolling back.

He played with both my holes at the same time before, but this is almost too much this way. His thick digits pump into my wetness, the same time his dick pushes into my ass.

"How does that feel, Liebes?", he wants to know.

"Feels good.", I breathe. And it does, even if I can barely handle the feeling of fullness.

"Yeah? You like that, hm?", he asks.

"Yes.", I moan, my eyes turning up, I can feel the tension pooling in my lower belly again and my thighs are starting to shake. "Fuck, please..." My words turn into moans, unable to finish my plea. Just a little more, I think, desperately needing to come.

And he doesn't stop to fuck me while his other hand is slowly caressing up my body until it gently closes around my throat. A little move that makes me pant even harder, tingles erupting all over my body.

His thumb pushes into my mouth that has fallen open, brushing over my tongue. I hum as I close my lips around his digit, sucking on it which makes him smirk down at me.

He's not moving much, just softly rolling his hips, pushing his dick in and out of my ass. His gaze is on me, and I'm desperately trying to keep my focus on his face, but I feel like I have already lost my mind. All my holes stuffed by him, his dick and his fingers, my mewls getting muffled by his thick thumb.

"You gonna cum for me like a good girl?", he whispers, and I hum again, nodding hastily.

"Yes, yes!", I mumble around his digit, losing myself in his eyes staring up at him.

His hushed words, their soft drawl, being at his mercy like this, catapults me over the edge. I can feel the tension snap, the orgasm is wrecking through me, my back arching, my hands flying out to desperately hold onto him, onto his arm that is strewn over my body.

His thumb slips out of my mouth, his hand capturing my face, I can feel the wetness of my own spit on my cheek as he makes me look at him while I pulse on his dick and fingers. The sounds dropping from my lips are almost obscene.

"Look at me, yes fuck.", he curses, taking everything in, his gaze fixed on mine.

His eyebrows furrow, his eyes pressing together, just for a moment. And he comes inside me while my orgasm is subsiding, the waves of arousal still shaking me. Pressing his lips to mine as choked moans escape his throat.

He pulls out of me, and all I can do is slump into the sheets, totally fucked out. Having your holes stuffed like that really does a number on you. My mind is hazy, and I feel like I'm floating, the tension leaving my taught body with every deep breath I take.

"You okay, Liebes?", he asks, posing the same question he always posed when you first started fucking, and he still comes back to it.

"Oh yeah.", I sigh, pulling him closer again, not willing to let him get up, let alone get up myself. I'm not even sure my legs would carry me. "That was quite... something.", I remark, looking up at him, the slightest blush staining his cheeks, like always after he just came.

He laughs a little, deep and soft, as his body slumps onto mine again and we just lie here for a moment.

"Quite something, huh?", he teases me, his nose nuzzling into the crook of my neck. I push some of his long dark hair back, my fingers brushing through them.

"No thoughts, head empty.", I mumble, snuggling into him. "No energy for big words."

He laughs again, his hand roaming down my body, squeezing my hip ever so slightly as he relaxes into me. And a soft calmness falls over us as we bask in the afterglow, his warmth engulfing me.

After a while of just laying here, he lifts me up with him, carrying me to the bathroom. He's drawing me a bath in the tub we rarely use, letting me soak in the warm water that helps relax my taught muscles, washing away the remnants of the hot and heavy fuck. He even puts on some music before sinking into the water himself, almost flooding the bathroom, and I laugh when "Fairies wear Boots" by Black Sabbath starts playing from the Bluetooth speaker, but he just grins down at me.

Somebody else might have put on something sultry and chill, but not him. Pulling me into his arms, chuckling a bit and then singing along "Fairies wear boots, yeah you gotta believe me…", the words in his deep soothing voice making me smile to myself.

I'm feeling very pampered and I can't complain – I would never complain – sitting on the couch afterwards, a snuggly blanket around my shoulders and a bowl in my hands with some pasta dish he quickly whipped up.

He drops onto the cushion beside me and turns on the TV. We started watching Bojack Horseman, a show I’ve watched before and he hadn't seen yet. Because he almost never watches shows, even though he pays for all the streaming services. I mean, he also has Spotify and listens to CDs and vinyls much more often. Did I mention that he's old?

I turn to look at him, sitting there with double my portion on his plate. He looks back at me with a quizzical stare, munching on some noodles, a sight that makes me giddy, and I can't even really pinpoint why. The big guy so casual always makes my heart sing.

"You think you'd might wanna chase me through the woods some time?", I ask him straight forward while shoving some pasta in my face.

He halts, pulling his eyebrows up. "You'd like me to?", he asks back, dropping the fork into his noodles.

I nod. "Yeah." I can't help a little blush creep into my cheeks. "When we played catch today... I couldn't help but imagine it...", I confess.

He doesn't say anything for a moment, his eyes searching my face to look for answers, his expression unmoving and serious while he pans down my body, the bowl of pasta on my lap.

"With those short legs?", he quips then, looking at them for a moment, a grin breaking through.

I gasp. "Rude!"

He laughs a little before pulling me closer, pressing a kiss to my forehead and dropping the banter. "We can try that... Just need to talk about the, uh, logistics some more." He pulls back to look at me. "I want you to feel save.", he says, his thumb caressing over my cheek.

"I always do with you.", I simply answer, giving him a small peck on the lips.

When I break away, I catch something in the corner of his eyes, an emotion I can't quite grasp, but it's gone the next second when he picks up his fork again.

"What?", I ask, unable to let it be.

His mouth forms into a lop-sided smile while he shakes his head. He doesn't say anything, but quickly takes my hand in his, squeezing my fingers, meeting my gaze for a moment. And the little gesture puts me at ease. I relax back into the cushions and turn my attention to the flatscreen again, returning to eat my pasta.

I can feel his eyes on me for another moment longer, my shoulder nudging his, and we continue watching the show.

the next part: comforting him or more in the Masterlist ~

[grey-axolate]

Crack idea:

Suffering from Epic the Musical... but it's Cole and Kai

Let me explain/give context

.

.

.

Cole wants to help save Bonzle & Kai back from nether-space and so he plans to goes on a journey to find a way to bring them back. The gang at the monastery catch wind of this plan and everyone minus Geo + kids join Cole. (Geo has to take care of the kids y'know) So they go on the bounty and go to a place where there might be a lead. Unfortunately, its off the shore of a foggy, distant island.

They arrive and find that something has broken a hole in the ship. (when does the bounty not get destroyed?) Everyone splits off on the island to find supplies to fix the hole, everyone except Nya and Zane. While trying to repair the gap with the few planks they have on the ship, they hear a voice. Two voices actually, and they sound almost uncanny to- "Jay?" Nya asks the fog.

"Pixal?" Zane asks as well.

As Lloyd approaches the ship with some materials that could help with repairs, he hears something...odd.

"Come in the water Nya! Let's swim together, you and I"

That can't be, it just cant, but...is that Jay? It sounds just like Jay but... something doesn't feel right.

He drops everything and rushes toward the noise. As Lloyd arrives, he sees Nya on the edge of the hole getting ready to jump in with Zane right behind her. Lloyd looks over to 'Jay' and 'Pixal' when he sees that behind them, there seem to be a myriad of eyes looking at Nya and Zane getting ready to go in.

Lloyd yells at the duo,"What are you doing?!"

And with that, they snap out of their trances and see Lloyd above them, on the ships deck.

"What WAS that? I could've sworn Jay was here just now. Lloyd, where is he?" Nya responds.

"I saw it too, and heard it, but whatever came definitely was not Jay" Lloyd said. "And whats worse is that there are more of them, over in the surrounding sea, I'm sure of it."

The rest of the group eventually return to the bounty and fix the ship. Lloyd asks everyone if they saw anyone, anything that could help them get their lost friends back. Nobody saw anything of note. A slight pause after, Arin had a thought, an idea of sorts.

"What if the lead is the shifters? what if they know something we don't?"

"Shifters?" Sora questioned and chuckled a bit.

"What? We don't know who they are!" Arin said defensively, letting out a laugh afterward.

"It's worth a shot" Lloyd shrugged.

The crew get on the newly-repaired bounty and plan. after a few minutes, it was decided that Cole would go out and try to get information from the shifters. By any means necessary.

"Is that really necessary?" Cole asked, pointing to the chain around his ankle.

"Just as a precaution, we don't want you throwing yourself off the ship" Lloyd replied. Cole laughed at the thought of him flinging himself off the bounty, it wouldn't be the first time that's happened.

The ship slowly sailed along the shore of the island and Cole looked around to see... anything really. The rest are in hiding on the ship to make it seem like less of a strategic attack/interrogation. The ship approached a formation of rocks off the coast when he heard it.

"Cole, Cole where are you?"

Cole ran to the bow of the bounty and that's when he saw him. Half of the reason he left the monastery in the first place.

"Hello!?" Cole calls out.

The voice comes into view and locks eyes with Cole.

It's Kai

[tenaciousjalapeno]

Testing The Cat Lady

1/?

Pairing: LA Buggy the Clown x Reader

Summary: Captain Buggy invades your small town because that's kind of his thing. Your methods of escape pique his interest, so he drops everything and drags you back to his tent for a little chat. However, you're enraged when you realize that your beloved cat is nowhere to be seen.

Warnings: language

Word Count: 2300

A/N: This is my first time writing really anything, so please don’t be mean or I’ll cry. Kind of experimenting and finding my own style, so I can't promise consistency lol. Definitely open to any tips/pointers

A bright light rouses you from your sleep. Ugh. Everything is sore. Your heavy eyelids protest as you force them open, being met with a blue-haired man in clown makeup standing mere feet from you. A gasp escapes your dry, bound mouth as you’re jolted back into reality, tensing every muscle in your body. Much to your chagrin, you can’t move an inch. Checking yourself over, you see that your hands and feet are bound to a circular board.

The man turns toward you. “Wellll, good morning, sleepyhead! Hope you enjoyed your nap,” the man says with a large smile plastered across his face. However, the smile is anything but friendly. His tone is hostile, and his eyes are cold. You glance around the room, but it’s difficult to discern where you are. A large spotlight shines upon you and the clown, dousing anything outside of its beam with darkness.

Anxiety builds in the pit of your stomach. You mumble against the cloth stuffed into your mouth, trying to ask what the hell is going on. “Ah, ah, ah,” he scolds, waving a finger in front of you. “I saw your little show back in town. That’s why I dragged your sorry ass back here.” He paces in front of you, never dropping eye contact. All humor has left his face, a mixture of irritation and curiosity left in its place.

Of course, you know what he’s referencing. It was your devil fruit ability.

Earlier in the day, the unexpected and unwelcomed bell rang across town to warn that pirates were nearing. From your hilltop bungalow on the outskirts of town, the brightly colored ship bearing a Jolly Roger sail was visible. It appeared to be far enough out for you to have time to gather some belongings before evacuating, so you did exactly that. However, you underestimated how prepared the crew was. Several bands of pirates had already surrounded your town, one of which infiltrated your small neighborhood. Panic set in, and adrenaline rushed through you. So, as if on instinct, you started to sing.

Back in your teenage years, you were a traveler. Never staying in one place for too long, you visited dozens of islands and adventured through both large cities and undeveloped areas alike. One of your escapades led you to a devil fruit – the Hum-Hum fruit, to be exact. Being the adventurer you were, how could you resist?

It gave you the ability to influence peoples’ emotions by singing to them. It had its pros and cons, but ultimately made a good defensive ability. It helped you out of a lot of sticky situations throughout your journeys right up until you decided to settle on this island and call it home. You acclimated to the friendly town easily and even befriended a scruffy orange kitten, who you decided to call Mango.

Overwhelming the pirates with a false, but intense fear, they cowered before you as you slowly backed away with a small rucksack and Mango held against your che- Wait. Mango!

You start thrashing against your restraints, hurling muffled expletives at this blue-haired jackass. What the fuck did they do with him?

He smiled again, genuinely this time, finally getting the reaction that he wanted from you. “You seem like you’ve got something to say, doll,” he states, pleased with himself. “I’ll be gracious enough to let you explain what you were doing to my freaks.” Is this an opening? “Oh, and my cauliflower-eared friend, Klaus, here is going to make sure you don’t try anything.” A large man with scarred ears steps into the light, startling you. No. It was not, in fact, an opening. The big, dumb-looking guy steps forward and removes your gag. He then takes a step back, mumbling something to the blue-haired man. You’re not positive, but you’re pretty sure he called the blue-haired man “captain.” So this guy is the captain of the invading pirates? Doesn’t look like much, you thought.

The captain stares at you eagerly, waiting for an explanation. You meet his gaze with a glare, seething and ready for a fight. “What did you do with my cat?” His face falls in disbelief.

“What?” he asks incredulously.

“Where. Is. My. Cat!”

He stares back, taking a moment to fully process your words before he starts flailing and yells, “A cat? Buggy the Clown – captain of the most dreaded pirate crew the East Blue has ever known – has you tied up and helpless, ready to kill you if I have to, and you’re worried about a fucking cat?” Of course you are. Mango’s your best friend. Also, “most dreaded?” You’ve never even heard of him. This Buggy guy seems to think highly of himself. He pinches the bridge of his nose with a defeated sigh. “I don’t know where your cat is. That is not the point. Now tell me what you were doing to my men!”

This guy clearly doesn’t comprehend how much you love your cat and how bull-headed you can be.

“I’m not answering anything until I have my cat back.”

“Fuck!” Buggy steps out of the light. You can’t see him, but you can hear him still yelling, utterly frustrated. “You, you, and you! Go find this dumbshit cat!”

You finally relax against the board, pleased. “He’s orange with a blue ribbon around his neck,” you call in a sing-song voice toward the darkness.

Buggy returns to the light and comes close, only stopping once your noses – wait is that clown nose real? – are nearly touching. “Once they bring that stupid cat back, you’re answering any question I’ve got.”

“Whatever you say, captain,” you reply, smirking. With a final huff, he steps once more into the darkness. Initially, you were filled to the brim with fear, but seeing how much of an idiot this guy is puts you at ease. It takes roughly 30 minutes before you finally hear hissing and yowling in the distance. Atta boy, Mango. Give ‘em hell.

Another man, this one wearing a bear hood, steps into the light holding Mango out as far away from his body as possible. Bear-boy is clearly scratched to shit and relieved to finally be able to get this thing away from him. He drops your cat and dips back into the darkness as quickly as possible. Mango lets out another loud hiss before calming at the sight of you and trotting over to rest at your feet.

Buggy walks back up to you, clearly no less aggravated than he was earlier. “Now answer my questions, shithead! What were you doing to my men?” The nicknames are getting a little more aggressive now, huh?

You shoot him a dirty look and slowly choose your words while looking down to make sure your cat hasn’t been harmed. His tail is puffed out in anger, but he seems fine otherwise. “I was singing to them,” you reply matter-of-factly.

The clown’s face falls again, in stark contrast of the large, red smile painted onto his face. “Singing,” he repeats flatly. “You were singing.” It’s not even a question so much as a statement. The gears in his head start turning, and he mumbles to himself. “I figured it was a witch’s incantation or something. How does singing have any effect on my men?”

“It’s my devil fruit ability.” His face whips toward you. This clearly has his interest piqued. As fun as it would be to torment this clown, you just want to get out of these restraints, so you decide to give him the information he so clearly wants outright. “I ate the Hum-Hum fruit. I can control peoples’ emotions by singing to them.”

Licking his lips and smiling, Buggy stares at you even more intently now. “Show me.”

“Let me down first.” Bargaining might not be in your cards right now, but you decide it’s worth a shot. Surprisingly, the bold request pays off though, as the captain comes forward to undo your restraints. With him this close, you notice that he has a surprisingly nice floral scent.

“I’ll need an audience,” you say, rubbing your sore wrists once freed. With a nod, he looks into the darkness and jerks his head, motioning for several unseen crewmates to come closer. Scooping Mango up off the ground, you finally step out of the oppressive spotlight. It takes a minute for your eyes to fully adjust, but you take in the room. It’s more of a tent, really, with striped tarps set up and seating placed around the edge. Fitting, you suppose, for a circus clown to reside in a circus tent. Your eyes land on your small audience seated on the benches. It’s only four people, one of which is Bear-boy, now with gauze wrapped around his hands and forearms. Smiling back down at Mango, you give him some scritches under his chin, making him purr softly. What a good boy.

“Alright, doll. Go ahead.” Back to the nice nicknames now that he’s getting his way, it seems. Holding up your end of the bargain, you fulfill his request. This captain is a fool though, letting you freely use your ability. Once you’ve got them cowering again, you’re going to book it out of the tent. The big, cauliflower-eared guy can’t hear you, but you should still be able to outrun him.

As you start singing, the captain watches on with a large smile, looking back and forth between you and your audience. They laugh, then cry, then start yelling and throwing punches at each other. But… Why isn’t Buggy reacting? A gloved hand – a dismembered hand – flies forward and clasps your mouth shut. Holy shit! You jump back with wide eyes, but the hand follows. Looking back to the captain, you see that his smile has grown impossibly wide. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the audience scurry away. What the hell is he trying to pull? Eyeing him up and down you notice that his left arm ends in a stump. Wasn’t there a hand there before? The moment your eyes dart back up to his face a set of what appear to be ears comes flying toward him and pop back onto the sides of his head.

As much as you want to, your body is too frozen in fear to back away. The clown releases your mouth and the hand returns to him and pops onto the end of his arm. He laughs at your expression and circles you. “What, you think you’re the only person who’s ever eaten a devil fruit? I myself ate the Chop-Chop fruit.” Right before your eyes, his body breaks apart into a dozen pieces before reassembling. So that’s why he wasn’t affected by your ability. He can’t hear you if his ears are off somewhere else. “You can slice me, and you can dice me, but I will always put myself back together again.”

Klaus comes forward and grabs you by the arms, making Mango fall to the ground. He once again stands before your feet hissing at the captain in a feeble attempt to protect you. Buggy’s detached hand flies toward your cat grabbing him by the scruff and pulls him up toward his face. Mango writhes, trying to free himself to no avail.

“No!” you scream. “You leave him alone!”

That annoyingly perpetual smile remains plastered on Buggy’s face. Four daggers slide from his coat, one between each of his fingers, in a clear attempt to intimidate you. “Or what?” You have no answer for him. In ideal circumstances, you could influence him to lose interest in both you and your cat, but being bound by a big deaf guy seriously limits your chances of escape. The feelings of panic and despair from earlier are flooding back to you. Tears fall down your face.

 “I- I don’t know,” you admit with a small sob. “Please don’t hurt him. He’s all I have.”

Buggy’s smile falters for a moment at your begging. If you blinked, you would have missed it. Recovering his smile again, he taps the daggers against his chest, pretending to mull over your pleas. “Alright, I won’t.” He steps closer again, now inches away from you. “If you join my crew, that is. You could prove useful.”

You look up at him. His blue-green eyes – which are admittedly, the most beautiful you’ve ever seen – stare back at you intently. Inexplicably, there’s a flutter in your chest, but it’s quickly replaced with a hard drop as Mango lets out another yowl. “Okay,” you whisper, nodding. “I’ll join your crew. Just please give me back my cat.” He takes a step back and his hand comes forward to place Mango back into your arms. You hold your scared pet to your chest, stroking him in an attempt to soothe both him and yourself.

“Cabaji,” Buggy shouts, summoning a man with strange striped hair forward. “We just added another showstopping member to our crew. This is cause for celebration, don’t you think?” The man, Cabaji, nods and disappears into another room off the main tent. The clown turns to face you once more, his smile more subtle now. He grabs your arm and dismisses Klaus. For a split second, you consider taking this chance to run, but something tells you that your freedom would be short-lived. “I’m so happy you decided to join me, doll,” he says much more softly now. “You and your little friend there will make a nice addition to the show.”

Wrapping his arm around you, he steers toward the door that Cabaji left through moments ago. He leans down close to your ear, his breath tickling as he quietly states, “By the way, songbird. I’ve got a strict agreement with Mohji to not hurt cats.”

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

hello! I really liked your character analysis, especially Hobie and the interactions with Diane (she´s very groovy and beautiful n.n) so, I wanted to ask you if you think Hobie could make good friends with someone with a symbiote and the symbiote itself, my spidersona (symbiotesona?) is one of those. I know there´s some story between Hobie and symbiotes in his universe but I couldn't find the comics where it is explained.

You're amazing and keep going!

Oh absolutely!

Especially for Hobie - He has a symbiote dog!

Hobie is accepting of everyone (he's the best I love him) even symbiotes!!

In his universe, V.E.N.O.M was used in his universe as a weapon for President Osborn's police force - but I think Hobie would see the underlying greed and cruelty of the cops as the problem, and not the symbiote.

If anything I think he'd really respect your sona -

Cause that takes a lot of mental fortitude, and moral and strength in general so he'd be like 'That's fucking metal.'

If there's side effects, or conflict between your sona and the symbiote - I think he'd always want to help, and would like, speak to them as separate people lol

He knows that sharing the same body doesn't make them the same person, and that your sona was full person before the symbiote, so he would see them as a Duo - like two partners in crime.

He'd be really careful about his music playing and volume cause he wouldn't want to hurt your sona, so he would always give a heads-up.

Diane would be SO interested - and she'd probably have to think about SO MUCH, get prepared for a lot of questions!

Diane is pretty clever - but a little naive, so she'd be solidly in the 'All Aliens Come in Peace.' Star Trek started in 1966 - so Diane basically grew up with it around.

A symbiote is something alien, so it can't be murderous and evil - even if it eats people. It's not from here!! Don't be mean to them!!!

If your symbiote eats people, or needs meat, Diane would..honestly not be that freaked out. She'd have to think about it.

"So, Do you eat people on your planet?"

"Well, I guess that's not too bad. I mean..some people have a pet pig, some people eat pig, some do both. So it's like..the same, right? Not that you see humans as pets, you know -"

If humans can not snap and eat their pets and stuff, maybe this symbiote knows food from friends like them! If anything, Diane would be upset if people rushed to judge your sona OR the symbiote.

Her defense : "They didn't ask to come to this planet!" or Hobie's favorite -

"Why are you shaming them! They're not the only immoral ones. There is no ethical consumption under capitalism!!"

Hobie knows she is just repeating something she heard him say one time - and that is NOT what that phrase means, but he thinks its funny, so he lets her say it.

The three (four - actually) could have so much fun!

Hobie would probably get them hearing protectors so they can hang out backstage without getting hurt.

And y'all can deck it out with cool stickers and punk marker graffiti!

And although beef and stuff probably doesn't compare, Diane would still try making stuff like beef tartare, koi soi, or other raw meat dishes, just to see if they like 'em!

She LOVES sushi, so sashimi is a must to try - She'd want everyone to feel included at the potluck - it's only right, nobody leaves hungry!!!!

[Also thank you so much for the sweet words!!! I know I take literally forever to go through my inbox (it takes me very very long and im gonna point at adhd) but these things really brighten my day and give me the inspiration to keep sharing. It means a lot, thank you!!]

[tetsuski]

why try?

train

pairing: gojo Satoru x fem!reader

friends to lovers

word count: 1.8k

warning : none

summary: first time traveling out of town with gojo

mlist

previous

a/n: hope u like this chapter!

what the fuck?

"L/N Y/N WAKE THE FUCK UP!!" you hear a familiar voice shouting and banging against your door it's still 6am on a saturday why would anyone come visit you this early? sitting up from your bed and still trying to process what's going on

"L/n-chan~, i can sense that you're already awake now~" once you finally recognized the voice you realize it's gojo satoru, why the fuck is he here? and then the realization hits

shit

you promised your friend you're gonna accompany him while he train.

for what exactly? you don't know. it's not like he needs it he's THE Gojo Satoru, goddamnit.

you fall back on your bed flipped yourself over and scream into your pillows not long after you leave your bed and start to get ready

today marked one year of you being in jujutsu high

it means its been a year of you leaving the world you've ever known behind

almost everything from the past now gone.

as soon as u open the door you're greeted by a high pitched voice from your classmate

"gooodddd morning, sunshineeee!!"

"y/n-chann~ are you not gonna greet me a good morning back? ouch you've wounded my heart" Gojo acting like he was offended with his hands clutching on his chest "good morning, Satoru" rolling your eyes.

"here, I got you your morning drink"

"thanks" looking at the can and back at him with your eyebrows furrowed

"why are you looking at me like that"

"like what?"

"like this" he imitate your face

"I just woke up five minutes ago, that's just what my face looks like"

he hums he puts his hand on your head moving his thumb between your eyebrows and starts rubbing it "There, all better" he smiles, removing his hands away.

you feel your heartbeat moves faster, your blood rushing up to your cheeks, and your ears turning red so you move your face away from him fighting back from screaming on top of your lungs. you dont know why he always know how to make you nervous.

"where are the others?" trying your best to sound like normal

"they died." Gojo blurted out. you squint your eyes at the lanky man shooting him a death stare and slapping his side "I'm joking! Suguru is still asleep and doesn't want to be bothered and Ieiri went on a run. but she said she'll catch up soon " he explained with his hands up in the air in defense "that's not something to joke about, Satoru"

as the two of you making your way towards the building exit.

"I don't understand why you need me. when I can't even use any of my so-called 'powers'" making a quotation mark with your hand to prove a point

"yeah, but your combat skills are good " he answer as the tall white haired opened the exit

"so no powers?" gojo asked as he took his place on the field.

"um duh it wouldn't be fair" you rolls eyes jokingly

"oh and sensei said we're meeting the new first years tomorrow" Getou announced.

it's lunchtime and you're now seated beside Gojo with Shoko and Getou at the opposite end of the table

"Maybe this year y/n will get to date one of them... " Gojo joked wrapping his arm around your shoulders

"shut the fuck up gojo sometimes i want to hold your neck so tightly until you fell unconscious" you snarled

"that's choking" Shoko giggles.

"exactly"

" i didn't know you were kinky— is this what single-ness does to you? becoming viole-" his voice is cut off because you shoves a cold desert into his open mouth coughing loudly trying not to choke.

"shut the fuck up asswipe" you laugh watching him chewing the sweets you just shoved. "that's rude" he pouted "thanks for the mochi though " he smiled noticing the way you look at him.

you didn't realize you were staring at him until someone interrupted your train of thoughts.

"i thought you and Satoru were dating to be honest " Shoko quipped

feeling heat creeping up to your face "pppfftt...wha— no. what do you mean? what makes you say that? hahaha... we don't see each other like tha—" trying to wave it off but another voice interrupted you

"wow this is good" gojo said while taking another one of your mochi. "stop! go buy some yourself" swatting his hands away from the box.

"nakamura-san always make the best mochi. hmm " you beamed putting one into your mouth.

"have any of you seen utahime?" Shoko asked lighting up the cigarette in her mouth.

holding your hand in the air as a way of saying 'hold on let me chew' "Yaga sensei called her. Pretty sure she'll be going on a mission—"As you were answering her question a sudden voice came from behind you

"I'm right here"

"holy shit— don't do that! I almost have a heart attack!"

"eheheh sorry" Utahime apologize rubbing the back of her neck "Yaga-sensei said he need you and Gojo to see him now" she informed.

"why?" you and Gojo asked at the same time

"I dont know? can I have one of those?" asking for one piece of your green balls.

"yeah sure. here" Gojo answered for you handing her the box.

"what the fuck?!?!I'm not finished yet!" he grabs you by the elbow pulling you away from your seat

"let's go y/n-chan~" walking away from the group.

the group watches you and Gojo walk away and when you finally out of their sight Getou began "I saw Satoru kissing a girl a week ago"

"oh my god, who?" Shoko lean her elbow on the table putting her weight onto her arms

"I don't know, didn't asked him"

"i honestly thought he finally gonna make a move on her. what a dumbass" Shoko groaned putting her cheek on the table in front of her

"a move on who?" Utahime

"are you serious right now?" Getou and Shoko raised their eyebrows at the long-haired girl

"y/n?"

"of course its y/n! who else would it be?" Getou exclaimed

"bleh. sorry. but even if he did I doubt y/n want date him" she pointed out

"why is that?" they egged on

"because he's gojo satoru? he's loud?"

"so is she" Getou point out

"he's annoying and a big meanie?"

"can't argue with that" Shoko nods

"did you just say 'big meanie'" Getou laughs "How old are you?" continuing to tease her

"I'm literally older than you have home respect" Utahime slaps her hand on the table pointing at the boy before her.

after your meeting with Yaga-sensei, he told you and Gojo to go to a small town far away to retrieve a scroll that's apparently being held captive by a curse and that leads you to where you are right now sitting in front of the white-haired creature on a train for the next 6 hours

"we should've just used an airplane there. it's not too late, you know? it can still take us there faster than this stupid train if we just stop at the next station" Gojo suggested

" no " you replied.

"why not?" leaning closer to you

"It's expensive" you answered

"really? it can't be that bad " pulling away from you crossing his arms on his chest resting his back on his chair with a raised eyebrow.

"yeah, sure" rolling your eyes.

" 'sure' as in we can stop at the nex—"

"i said no. besides it's my first time on a train " poking your straw to a small box full of caffeine " I want the full experience" holding your other hand to a fist dramatically "you can leave me here though, I don't really mind I'll catch you up there. you can book us an inn or something" holding your own drink with both hands as you take your first sip

he snorts "whatever" ignoring your last sentence he rest his arms on top of his table "I'm gonna take a nap " resting his head on the makeshift cushion. "you should rest too though don't want you half asleep fighting curses"

you hummed looking out to the window and let your mind occupied you for the night.

two hours has passed you heard soft snores looking away from the window to see your classmate sleeping

huh

his sunglasses has fallen down from his face eyebrows furrowed together, eyes are closed his beautiful white eyelashes resting on his reddened cheeks.

he looks so... adorable.

without second thoughts you subconsciously leaning closer to him reaching out your hand to caresses his hair but to your luck something slowed your hand

fuck

you can't pull away your hands

"of course he put got his infinity on, y/n why are you so stupid!" you whispered to yourself.

you saw him stirred

shit.

his body start shifting

please dont wake up please don't—

he opened his eyes registering what had touched him his eyes widened realizing somebody is centimeters away from his face turning off his barrier, he moves his head away from her

in a blink of an eye your forehead suddenly clashed with his letting out a loud yelp from your mouth.

" ouch" you whined rubbing your forehead.

realizing he just hit his own classmate on the head.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to— I thought you were" putting his hands on your face cupping your face "Are you hurt? I sense something about to touch me, I didn't mean to hit you at least give a guy a warning before touching him why don't ya?" thumb rubbing your forehead softly

you stared at him in awe taking in every little detail on his face after what felt like forever you realize how close you both are

"well i saw that your glasses fell off and i was about to be a good friend and take your glasses to put it somewhere safer" lies.

"oh. sorry" he chuckled to himself rubbing the back of his neck.

an awkward silence filled the air.

"are you cold?" you asked him

"yeah" no he's not.

"do you want to...?" gesturing to the blanket you brought.

"if you want" he shrugged.

standing up from your seat making your way to his seat sitting beside him "Here" you said as you covered both his and your lap with the fabric "Thank you" he whispered loud enough for you to hear.

"sorry for waking you up" you mumbled out "it's okay" he reassured "are you tired?" he asked looking at you in the eyes.

"well yeah... it's 3 am but I can't sleep" you replied looking down at your lap and avoiding his gaze "Just rest your eyes a bit and lean on me" moving your head on his shoulder. following his direction you close your eyes feeling warmth and comfort within him

and with that, you're gone sleeping peacefully with the Gojo Satoru pulling you into his arms

despite how uncomfortable sleeping while sitting was somehow it was the best sleep you've ever gotten in a while.

[paluimbel]

The Structure Fell About Our Feet (And We Were Free to Go)

Chapter 1: Try One, and Try Two

Summary:

Some time after the Rapture, Gem used a spell she found in some far-flung ancient library to let an Eldritch Entity™ share her body in exchange for power and protection. There's just one problem; when it comes time to introduce those she's close to to her new headmate, fWhip isn't exactly happy about her decision.

Notes: This was partly inspired by Prompt #1,051 by @pluralprompts, except we sorta accidentally stopped reading halfway through because we got Ideas after just reading the first bit. Oops?

Read on ao3 here.

Fic:

“You’re not Gem.” fWhip said, fixing her with a glare that made her feel the need to turn her practice sword on him in self-defense.

Gem wouldn’t like that, though, so she refrained, letting it swing idly by her side. (Oh, to have hands with which to hold a sword, and arms with which to swing it!) This was earlier than they’d planned to tell him, but, well, now was as good a time as any.

“Not… exactly?” she replied, face contorting into an awkward expression she was starting to become very familiar with.

fWhip’s red-orange magical aura, smelling of ozone and fire and a strange sort of crisp decay she couldn’t quite place (Autumn, Gem informed her kindly, it makes sense that you wouldn’t recognize it, since the End has no seasons, but you’ll experience it for yourself soon enough), exploded outward in an angry wave.

(Hang on, she thought, I was under the impression you were both human.

Mostly, Gem replied, by which I mean about three eighths, I think. We’re changelings.

That explains a lot, she thought back.

Thanks. Gem’s grin was inseparable from the feeling of the word.)

“What do you mean, ‘not exactly’?” Sausage broke in.

“I go by Gem, now that I’m here,” she gestured at the meat suit Gem had been so kind as to share with her, “but I’m not the Gem you know.”

She was shaking. Why was she shaking? It felt like the rush of adrenaline that came with battle, but without any of the focus, without any outlet. (We’re nervous, Gem informed her, not exactly calm, but warm and safe, take a deep breath.) She did, and was surprised to find how much it helped.

“Oh,” Sausage replied, clearly not understanding, “then if you aren’t Gem, how are you in Gem’s body?”

“She let me in. We have an agreement,” she stated.

“My sister would never let someone take over her body,” fWhip accused, shooting daggers at her with his eyes.

(Stay calm, Gem told her, if you…

I know, I know, she replied, You’ve sent me practically every memory you have of him in preparation for this, remember?

Right, Gem answered, just worried, is all.)

“I didn’t take over,” she replied to Gem’s brother, “your Gem has just as much control as I do. We take turns. I’m mostly in control right now, because I wanted to spar with Sausage, but she’s here too.”

“And we’re just supposed to take your word for it?” fWhip asked incredulously. “How long have you been in there with her without telling us? Without telling me?”

She could feel the fire that was her headmate pulse hotter for just a moment. Remembering what Gem had told her, she took a deep breath, and the inferno quickly returned to its customary warm glow.

“Maybe we should trust Gem, fWhip,” Sausage spoke up before she had the chance, “you know how cautious she is, she wouldn’t do anything like this unless she knew it was completely, 100% safe.”

“Maybe she didn’t have a choice, Sausage,” fWhip replied, “also, you let yourself get possessed by a demon, so forgive me for not totally trusting your judgement in this matter.”

“Will you at least give me a chance to explain?” she interrupted.

Sausage and fWhip turned back towards her. fWhip didn’t look happy about it.

“Gem was the one who suggested this… arrangement. She wanted power and protection, and I wanted to experience the world,” she began, an uncomfortable, restless churning sensation filling her abdominal cavity, “I’m not sure all the details of how she bound us together, some spell book she found in a dusty basement or something, but it was completely her choice. You can ask her about the terms of our arrangement later. She’ll corroborate what I’m saying.”

fWhip fixed her with a skeptical glare, “I want to speak to my sister. Now, not later. Prove she’s really here and you’re not just controlling her.”

She paused, closing her eyes. Gem’s wordless and slightly playful outrage drifted towards her.

“Gem says to tell you that it’s rude to demand she come out when I’m already here,” she interpreted.

“Then ask her what the heck she was thinking, inviting a strange demon-spirit-entity-thing she knows nothing about into her body!” fWhip demanded, having apparently judged the message she’d passed on as something his twin would say.

The sting of betrayal welled up in her chest, alongside a strange sort of exhausted exasperation, and tears pricked at her eyes. The feelings weren’t hers, but she felt them, and Gem carefully shoving them down, all the same.

“Just because Gem’s your sister doesn’t mean you know what’s best for her, you know,” she spit out, “We both know you mean well, but she’s an adult; she can make her own decisions.”

(Reva… Gem scolded, somewhere between dryly amused and anxious.)

“Besides, I’m not a stranger; I’d already been working with Gem for years before she bound us together,” she added.

fWhip opened his mouth as if to respond, then closed it again, storming off.

She and Sausage stared after him for a minute.

(That could’ve gone worse, Gem thought, tone as cheerful as she could muster.

Yeah, no, that went great, she replied. Are you okay?

Gem’s lack of a response spoke volumes.)

“So… do you wanna continue sparring, or…?” Sausage asked.

“I think we need to go home and rest after all that,” she replied, “sorry.”

“No problem!” he said, “It was nice meeting you, uhh… Other Gem? Can I call you Other Gem?”

“Other Gem works,” she shrugged. “See you around?”

“Anytime.”

She flew off.

Additional notes: This is sorta a prequel to some planned Gem-centric works in our plural!hermits series, but since we haven't actually written them yet this is more like a sneak peak/fun preview.

Other Gem's name before Gem bound them together was Revañae, a word from a conlang we made for the inhabitants of the end in a different mcyt series. It literally translates to something along the lines of "void dragon" and is really more of a title than a name, so Other Gem decided to start going by Gem once she and Gem were bound together and she started creating a proper identity for herself. Gem still calls her Reva in the headspace sometimes though.

Also! Other Gem will eventually become hermit!Gem. Hence why this is relevant to the plural!hermits series. That's still a long way off at the time this takes place though.

[imthefemalemonster]

Daemon with “There is no way anyone in this place is that innocent” “I guess I am?” “Not after I’m done with you.”

and “Gosh, you're so innocent it makes me want to do things to you.”

Cuz I’m a slut for innocent Aemond and pervert Daemon corrupting his nephew’s innocence

Here it is anon! Sorry it took so long, hope you enjoy it ~

***

⸻Innoncence

Daemond - Daemon Targaryen x Aemond Targaryen (Smut)

⸻ Summary: Daemon pays a spicy visit to his nephew Aemond in the library.

Tags: Adults Versions of Characters, PWP, Anal Sex, DP, Dildo, Hand Jobs, Kissing, Daddy kink, (if you blink), Top!Daemon, Bottom!Aemond, Clothed Sex, Orgasm

⸻ Read on Ao3

Notes: I don’t know how medieval dildos work but I wanted to write something more spicy and this was very funny to do - requested by anon on tumblr! - hope you enjoy it. ♡

Tumblr for ideas/requests: @imthefemalemonster

Prompts requested (from here): “There is no way anyone in this place is that innocent.” "I guess I am?” “Not after I’m done with you.” + “Gosh, you’re so innocent it makes me want to do things to you.”

⸻ Words: 4484

The sun cast its last rays as the library was emptying itself, leaving only a few readers lost in their books. After a long morning at the training grounds and a few meetings, Aemond had hidden himself in one of his favorite places, alone, between books and parchments most people wouldn’t pay attention to. The air was heavy with dust, silent apart from fingers scratching paper and murmuring voices that sounded more like a puff of wind than actual human voices.

Aemond’s calm was interrupted as he heard men rushing outside the library, boots nonchalantly hitting the floor in an irregular and particularly unpleasant rhythm. He didn’t move, too immersed in his book, nobody ever dared to disturb him, today was no different, he thought. But his routine collapsed with his uncle’s, as Daemon had entered the library, looking around like he was searching for something very precise. He advanced between the aging shelfs before noticing Aemond and walking toward him.

“Nephew”, he greeted, leaning above the younger man’s shoulders.

“What are you doing here?”, snarled Aemond, closing his book, very focused on showing he was not happy to be bothered.

“I was bored”, explained Daemon, not worried in the slightest about Aemond's visible irritation, “Rhaenyra went out, the boys and girls are in their rooms…”

“Excellent”, mocked Aemond, “I do not know what it has to do with me but I like myself as a company, you have plenty of books to keep you busy.”

Daemon smiled, stepping back and placing himself half seated on the desk, still staring at Aemond.

“Defensive…”, he breathed, “I came to see you actually… I’ve seen you earlier.”

“What does that mean?”, asked Aemond, avoiding his uncle’s gaze as he cleaned his desk.

“I’ve seen your smile.”

Aemond raised his only eye, confused.

“And what does that mean?”, commented Aemond, brain buzzing with questions as to why his uncle was really here, “If you came just to mock me because you are bored, it’s working, it’s annoying me. Now that you have what you want, I’ll take my leave.”

“I have not come to annoy you. I saw you wanted me.”

There was a silence, it lasted seconds but felt like hours.

“God old man”, sighed Aemond, breaking the heavy tension in the library now completely empty. Sweat running along his neck, hands moist, his body reacted to these few words, “You might want to be more specific”, he stood up, trying to keep his composure as he was now facing Daemon.

“When I decapitated a man”, smirked Daemon, “You had the biggest smile I had ever seen.”

“And?”

“And? I thought it was cute.”

Aemond shook his head

“No you don’t.”, his cheeks felt hot. He prayed Daemon wouldn’t notice it.

“Did I impress you?”

Too late.

“You really didn’t.”

“I would have expected disgust.”, remarked Daemon, “But you looked like you appreciated the scene.”

“Surprised? What is a man half head falling on the floor? I was raised harder than this.”

Daemon bursted out laughing, raising a finger toward Aemond, pressing it on his leathered top.

“Raised hard?”, he continued laughing, “A prince in King’s Landing? Never set foot on a battlefield, only shows off at the training grounds-”

“I’ve lost an-”

“Eye. Yes I know.”, sighed Daemon, “You also claimed a dragon, I know the story boy, I was here.”

“The biggest dragon.”

“Hm, we’ll see about that.”

Aemond frowned his eyebrows at the comment, pushing Daemon's finger away. The older man only shrugged his shoulders, steadying himself on the desk with one hand, leaning in closer to Aemond, his nephew’s face slightly towering his own.

“Act like a man with a book in one hand, sword in the other, threatening kids, but in front of me I don’t see more than a mommy’s little boy.”, murmured Daemon.

Aemond sighed as he picked up his books, ready to leave, avoiding Daemon’s insistent stare. The older man stopped him, moving in front of his body, moving threateningly as he locked the younger man between his broad figure and the desk. Aemond said nothing but his single eye burned with both annoyance and something else he wished wasn’t here.

“Does it have pretty girls in it?”, asked Daemon, tapping on the book with a finger.

Aemond pressed the books harder against his chest, like a maid with some sheets.

“Or boys”, smiled Daemon, “If you prefer.”

“I don’t prefer anything, I’m good.”, Aemond cheeks had slightly reddened, it didn’t go unnoticed as his uncle smirked.

“I used to read a lot”, continued Daemon, “Won’t hide I liked these stories, sometimes poems, about these pretty young maidens or horsemen…”

“I-I don’t read that kind of books”, stuttered Aemond, he hated how the older man’s presence both impressed and aroused him. He wished he could stand tall and face him, but in reality he only wanted to crawl in his arms and be held like a son in his father’s arms.

“A loss for you”, pouted Daemon, sounding almost sincere, “Could teach you some… things”, he mewled as a finger brushed his nephew’s arms, sending shivers down Aemond’s spine.

“I’m not interested.”, he lied. Aemond had definitely read some of these virgins maids’ stories, maybe even written some that would match to his own fantasies. Those involving an older man strangely resembling him, for example. He wanted to bury this deep inside him, trying not to think about it as he felt like Daemon could read into him like an open book, a fantastic erotic poem.

“It’s not even sex all the time”. Daemon raised an eyebrow, “If that disturbs you…”

“It doesn’t!”, Aemond raised his voice, he wanted to sound confident, he only sounded like a child, “It’s just not my thing.”

“Raised hard”, cooed Daemon, “But not good at lying.”

“How can you tell?”, questioned Aemond. He was done for. Daemon knew everything, and more.

“Strange to me that you are pressed against your uncle, you let his finger roam on your clothes, and you are not running away?”

“I’m n-not-”, murmured Aemond. Oh he was, he really was.

“There is no way anyone in this place is that innocent.”

"I guess I am?”, mockingly said Aemond. Moving his hips closer, tearing a groan out of Daemon, it sounded like honey to his ears.

Daemon caught his sharp face between his fingers, thumb languidly caressing the younger man's chin, eyes hungry with a newfound desire.

“Not after I’m done with you.”, he rasped. Aemond's heart stopped beating.

The air was thick with tension, but the kiss that followed broke it, shattering it like a thousand glasses thrown onto the floor. It was not kind, but still loving, a kind of love and desire Aemond craved. Erections pushed into another, Daemon was eating those soft lips, uncaring for the loud noises escaping his lips as he relentlessly attacked his nephew's lower lip, biting it, sucking it. Wet noises mixed with Aemond loud moans, there was no defiance to have anymore, he wanted to let Daemon know he liked it. He was is. Daemon had claimed him the moment he entered the library, Aemond had let him in the moment Vaemond Velaryon’s head hit the floor.

“You really just love to fuck yourself don’t you”, whispered Aemond, breaking the kiss, the two men intoxicated in the other scent and wetness, “Narcissist.”

Daemon laughed. It was bold from a Targaryen, but quite true.

“You’re just a little wannabe me aren’t you?”. Daemon reached for the boy’s burning red cheeks, a hand locking his face in place as the other ventured on his nephew’s top, fingers slowly undoing it.

“I won’t be another trophy.”

“Oh really?”, pouted Daemon, “When I lift you up, won’t be much of a difference, right Nephew?”

“I’m innocent, not stupid.”

Daemon laughed.

“Not blind either.”

“But hard.”, mewled Aemond. Daemon's eyes happily widened as he felt the younger man shyly rub against him.

“Gosh, you’re so innocent it makes me want to do things to you.”, Daemon reciprocated the motions, grinding himself against Aemond as his hands left his face and chest to lift him up, sitting him on the desk and placing himself between his legs.

Aemond blushed, he was ready to beg for everything in the world and more. He was new to this, but his wildest dreams and fantasies weren’t. Not that he was particularly interested in Targaryen’s customs, but secretly, because his dignity and composure was more important than everything else, he had admired Daemon for so long. There were as many things he hated about him that he loved. Maybe he wanted to be the very thing he hated about Daemon. He wanted to be feared, respected, privileged, loved. He bit his lips, he wanted to be loved by one particular person, just like Daemon was.

“I’ve got a surprise for you, pretty boy”, murmured Daemon against the younger man’s ear, his breath burning the sensitive skin, words echoing through Aemond’s body.

Blushing, Aemond nodded, convinced the surprise was probably to be taken like a whore on the very desk, pleading and begging for more. But Daemon was slow and mysterious, he moved his lips to the white pearl neck, a hand reaching for Aemond hair, untying them as he eagerly ran a hand through them, making them as messy as his nephew’s skin under his kisses and bites. Lips parted, Aemond held himself on Daemon’s shoulders, aroused breaths leaving his mouth as the older man pulled on his hair. The Rogue Prince’s other hand ran down the boy's exposed chest, nails scratching the skin, murmuring some ‘good boy, good boy’ along the way, fingers hungrily reaching for Aemond’s crotch, pressing on it, ripping up desperate sobs from his nephew. He was terribly hard, just like him, and needy as the felt the boy shiver under the touch

“Take the thing out of my pocket”, ordered Daemon.

Aemond hesitated a second, not because he didn’t want to but because he was simply confused at the order. What thing? His hand brushed Daemon's waist, hip, until it felt something hard, very hard, almost like a hilt inside his pocket, but it was not Daemon’s sword, Dark Sister wasn’t with him now. He took the object out, it was wooden from the texture he felt, like a very short staff which looked like it had veins on it, similar to tree’s roots. He observed the object, it was not roots nor a staff, it resembled a cock and Aemond had little to no idea what you could do with that. Was it meant to impress him, mock him?

“Do you know what this is?”, asked Daemon, tilting his head, pressing soft kissing on Aemond cheek, fingers running on his swollen lips. His free hand slowly undid Aemond pants, soft gasp escaping the prince as the hot air hit his hard shaft, still trying to focus on the object.

“Y-you carved a cock?”, questioned Aemond, he felt Daemon dry fingers caressing his cock, he was about to lose his mind to this.

“That’s not for decorating.”

“T-thanks god”, huffled Aemond, moving against the fingers, “Not particularly p-pretty.”

“I thought it would be funnier with a little toy.”, Daemon smiled, leaving a little peck on Aemond's lips, the one-eyed man’s lower body rubbing against him now.

Aemond blushed, stopping his motion, cheeks ablaze as he realized.

“You a-actually prepared that.”

Daemon laughed, nodding his head with close to no shame on his face.

“That’s…”, Aemond was taken aback, “That’s v-very depraved.”

“You are sitting cock out and hard, rubbing against your uncle, kissing him like a thirsty man in a desert, but a wooden cock is depraved?”, Daemon smirked, “Tell me more, love.”

Aemond looked away for a moment, a hand still on the object, the other on his uncle’s shoulder. Part of him knew, but he still wanted to ask because it was too good to hear Daemon tell him everything he would do to him.

“W-what am I supposed to do with it?”

Daemon smiled.

“Listen to me pretty, innocent boy.”, he rasped, lips brushing Aemond’s, “You are going to be a good boy, yes?”, he awaited a response, it took a moment for Aemond to react but he nodded, “Good boy. You and I are going to have a little fun tonight. Because you can’t walk these corridors with confidence, dance on those training grounds like you are untouchable, make these blonde hair all pretty, and not expect me to come and eat you whole when I can.” Daemon stopped a moment, observing Aemond, expecting an ounce of disagreement but the younger man was drinking his words and praises like water after a training session. “So here is what’s going to happen baby boy. Uncle is very hard and needy, and you have pretty hands and a pretty mouth”, there were so close, breathing each other air, drunk in the scent, “So you are going to wet and suck that toy with your mouth, and you’re going to make me harder with these pretty hands, so when I’m hard and wet, I’ll fuck you open with my cock and toy, hard enough you won’t walk straight for days.” He stopped, there was too much to process for Aemond he probably lost him half way, “You would do that for me right? You would make your uncle happy?”

“I-I’m not”, Aemond moaned as Daemon pressed himself harder against him, “I can’t t-take both.”

“Ssh”. Daemon bit the boy’s lower lip, sucking it into his mouth, “We are going to prepare you for that right. You are going to give me that pretty usable, manhandled body, and I’ll make us feel so good. You’re going to be a good whore for me, right Aemond?”

Aemond paused, his uncle had removed his hand from his cock. He was needy with friction, dizzy, head buzzing with a hundred thoughts it could explode at any moment. But through the fog he could see one thing, Daemon, the very thing he craved for. Gods be damned, it was their moment, may they be witnesses and judges of it. He nodded, nose brushing against his uncle’s.

“You little brat”, husked Daemon, “Good little fuckable whore. Shall we?”

Aemond wasn’t sure what he had to do, so he waited, hands moving around Daemon’s sweaty neck, hair perfect compared to the mess his own were.

“Open your mouth”, commanded Daemon, “Take your tongue out, fuck your mouth with the toy. Be noisy. I want to hear you like it.”

The taste was weird at first, it was like licking a table. Not like Aemond had done it before, but the inanimate hardness of it felt strange on his tongue. He moved the wooden object up and down his cock, licking around the top, lips closing around the head. He had no idea how to actually suck cock, he must have looked ridiculous, but Daemon's eyes were telling him otherwise as he seemed lost in the lustful sight of his nephew's swollen lips around his toy.

“Get your other hand on my cock, stroke it.”, continued Daemon. It felt like a very perverted dance, two partners embraced in an obscene scene. Daemon had freed himself, waiting for Aemond to take him in hand, he grabbed the boy's thin waist holding him steady on the desk as the boy was working both his cock and mouth. Aemond moaned around the toy, hand moving hazardly around Daemon’s member, it was dry and not particularly enjoyable as he felt like scratching the skin and burning it rather than stroking it. But Daemon didn’t seem to mind, hips slowly moving following Aemond movement, heatedly fucking himself in the younger palm.

“Good thing I finally got to abuse this body. Would be a waste if nobody made the most out of it.”, rasped Daemon, “Good thing it’s me, mine only.”

Aemond moaned, saliva coating the toy, hitting deeper in his mouth, precum on his hand as he continued to rub Daemon’s cock. His movements had sped up, toy reaching spots he didn’t think were attainable inside his mouth, moaning loudly around it like Daemon asked. Fingers dug in the younger man's waist, Daemon raised a hand to grab at Aemond chest, a sob escaping the boy as he massaged the skin, palm pressed against a hard nipple.

“Fucking perfect”, he growned, “Ruinable skin, whorish moans, little needy nipples.”, a vile smirk on his lips, his hips moved faster in Aemond hand, mixed between satisfying pain and pleasant rubs in his nephew’s palm, coated with sweat and precum. Daemon wanted to possess his whole body. His hand grabbing at the chest, like he would grope a girl’s boob, but it was his nephew and it was even better. The sight: Aemond flushed visage face-fucking himself on a toy, dignity and innocence lost to depravity, his hard cock in the now expert hands, fingers playing with a nipple, twisting it savoring the noises Aemond made around the wood as he perversely pinched the sensitive bud, the younger’s man cock leaking, red and cute, resting on his belly were Daemon only wished he was nestled.

“Fucking hells”, he murmured, Aemond sobs and moans filling the room, hardening and excited at the idea he could be caught in the middle of ruining his nephew. He they were, he would make sure the person would never forget, that his obscenity would be imprinted in their mind as hard as Aemond was going to take him deep.

“Good boy, enough now.”, Aemond cried out when Daemon forcefully took the toy out of his mouth. He couldn’t know how much time had passed since he had been eating the wooden object, but the flavor was printed on his tongue. “Good fucking dog”, groaned Daemon, attacking his nephew’s needy mouth. The younger man answered without hesitation, fucking each other mouth with grandiose obscenity, saliva and sweat mixing, tongues fighting inside Aemond.

Daemon moved back, breaking the kiss and any contact he had with Aemond. Surprised, Aemond cried out at the loss, hands reaching for his uncle like a babe. Daemon would have loved to comment on how needy the boy already was despite his evident innocence a few minutes ago, but his mind was only filled with the need to get Aemond ass down his cock and have him beg for the double penetration. Cocks angry, toy wet like a nude body under the rain, Daemon took a moment to observe, admire.

“On your belly”, he ordered, “On the desk.”

He was surprised at how fast Aemond obeyed. He had not yet fucked all the dignity out of the boy but his nephew was ready to fall on his knees. He hummed happily. Aemond got off the table, turning back, a smirk on his lips, body leaning in, opening himself wide, ass and legs for his uncle.

“That’s a view some would kill for.”, groaned Daemon, holding onto the very few last pieces of patience he had.

Aemond smiled, face against the table, single eye turned to his uncle, back arched the best he could. He hoped he looked fuckable, desirable, not so innocent. It was better than any of his fantasies.

“Say it.”, husked Daemon.

The younger man parted his lips, a breath escaping him but no words. He frowned his eyebrow, doe lilac eye wide toward his uncle, feigning not to understand. A few seconds passed, Daemon losing his patience, but still amused.

“Acting like a prude, virtuous little innocent maiden is definitely making me want to fuck your ass harder, baby boy.”, Daemon leaned in, cock lazily rubbing against Aemond entrance, ripping a soft moan out of him, “But I need you to say it. What is your uncle going to do to you?”

“Pervert”, moaned Aemond, moving back against his uncle’s hard length.

“Wrong answer. And you are also a little pretty fuckable slut to me.”

“Then do it.”

Daemon laughed, he loved this boy, he was going to ruin him.

“Do what?”

“Fuck me Uncle!”, moaned Aemond, voice heavy with wetness and saliva.

“Good boy, I’m going to sink you down my cock with that toy, and watch you break apart as I fuck you rough, just like that little brat ass deserves.”

Pressing the wooden object against Aemond entrance, the younger man moaned at the intrusion, pushing slowly against the sensitive, virgin rim. The sensation was unpleasant at first, Aemond teared up when the inanimate head entered, a gasp leaving his mouth feeling himself ripped apart. Daemon was breathing heavily, surprised seeing Aemond suck the toy up his ass so well. It was halfway in, wooden veins scratching the boy’s sensitive skin, leaving him breathless. Daemon bit his lips, cock leaking and throbbing, thinking about Aemond playing with his own fingers, drunk on imagining it was probably about him that he was fantasizing about while he sobbed and moaned around his digits.

“Idiot I was thinking you were innocent, can’t believe Prince Aemond Targaryen has fingered himself open.”, howled Daemon, “Wonder what the Gods and his virtuous mother would think…”. The idea watered his mouth, cock pressing against the younger Prince’s hole, next to the toy.

“O-only a few t-times”, he moaned, unsure if he wanted it to sound like an excuse or a invitation. Aemond was focused on his legs, praying for his body not to give up as he gathered all his strengths, holding the table, joints going white as Daemon fucked the toy in and out him at a languid pace. He could feel every curve, every wooden veins, every default and details on the toy penetrating him, hot and eager with feeling Daemon hungry member against him. His own cock pressed against the table, hard and painful, hopefully unpleasantly rubbing against the desk as he moved against Daemon.

“Ready sweet boy?”, cooed the Rogue Prince, mind and mouth full of obscenity.

Aemond couldn’t answer, no words came out of his mouth, he could only mewls and moans as he felt Daemon's eager cock press against his hole, next to the toy. Aemond wanted to scream but his throat was sore, empty. The moment the cock entered he felt like he was torn apart, split in half. But Daemon’s cock, as hard as it was, was still softer than the wooden toy, the mixture of both the hard members inside him being delicious, making him delirious. Only the head was in, hungry and animal, Daemon was still conscious to go slow, every barrier of his sanity broken, but yet it wasn’t about hurting, it was about making sure his cock would be so imprinted inside Aemond he would only think about it each time he sat down.

“U-unccl-”, Aemond was incoherent, noises escaping his mouth

“Good boy, you’re taking it so well.”, purred Daemon, grabbing Aemond waist with one hand, starting to move in and out slowly, the other hand on the toy, keeping it in place, “Baby Prince taking two cocks. What a brave, brave slut.”

Setting a steady but harsh pace, Daemon closed his eyes, finally losing himself in the heat of the room, inside his tight nephew, his walls clenching around him, compressing him so hard inside the pain felt so good. The wetness of the act, the noises of skin against skin, hips crushing into another, the leather melting on both of the men’s burning skins. Riding his nephew like it would never happen again, finger dug in his waist, Daemon groaned noisily. Nobody had caught them to his grand disappointment, but the sobs, the tight ass around his cock and toy, the view were enough to satisfy him. Moving back and forth, standing on his tiptoe, pounding inside Aemond, crushing him against the table like he wanted him to go through.

Taking the toy out without warning, Aemond gasped at the single presence of Daemon’s cock inside him now. It was not odd like the wooden object, it was soft and hot, reassuring almost. Like a very loving hug, a tender caress, except it was his uncle rough fucking him, but still it was better than anything he had ever experienced with his fingers. Probably better than any of Daemon’s books.

Grabbing a handful of Aemond hair, Daemon harshly pulled on them, having the younger man hardly stand up, orgasm building up, close, his entire body oversensitive and legs close to give up.

“Hands on the desk, steady yourself while Uncle fucks you good, little whore”, ordered Daemon, letting go of the boy’s hair to grasp his waist, pounding inside with desperate need and absolute perversity, “Don’t touch yourself.”, he commanded. Aemond whined but obeyed, he wanted to jerk himself off at the same rhythm Daemon was fucking inside him, cock hard and painful from the friction with the desk. His belly was hot, he was sweaty, he felt his legs shiver, hands shaking as he grabbed the table the best he could. Daemon bestial groans and erratic thrusts pushed him over the edge as he came all over the desk and himself, screaming his uncle’s name.

“Fucking hells!”, laughed Daemon, visibly proud, “Pretty boy, all that cum for me.” The Rogue Prince felt the boy’s body go limp, he wouldn’t hold up much longer. Daemon caught him, an arm around his chest, kissing his back softly, cock still buried deep inside him but no moving anymore.

“On your knees, pretty boy.”, he whispered softly into Aemond's ear, the younger Prince nodded, breathing heavily, dizzy, mind absent from the orgasm.

Taking his cock out, painfully hard, Daemon guided him down gently, caressing his hair like a pet. Aemond raised his head, single eye hungry, lips parted, tongue slightly out.

“You did good my little boy, time for a reward.”, purred Daemon. “Can’t fucking breed you even if I wished. Gonna come on that pretty face and ruin you even more, from face to ass. I’ll take every second, minute, or hour to admire you with my seed dripping on your pretty face.” And the view was splendid; the confident Prince, messy hair, sweaty face, chest open and bruised from bites and kisses, flaccid cock hanging between his shivering legs, hands on his knees, mouth open, waiting for Daemon. The Rogue Prince languidly stroked his cock, just above Aemond tilted head, the boy so calm, breathing sounding almost asleep. Daemon was close, in only a few more thrusts in his palm he came, white droplets painting Aemond red cheeks, a beautiful contrast, obscene rain flowing on his face, eyepatch. Milking every last drop of seed out of his cock, making sure he wouldn’t miss any hitting Aemond’s face, Daemon smiled. Content, pleased, fulfilled.

“Good little Targaryen”, smirked Daemon, “Another one fucked.”

Too dizzy, too tired to think, Aemond frowned his eyebrow forcing his brain to compute Daemon’s words. He smiled briefly. Pervert. Maybe there was a solution to family quarrels after all.

[restlesscrybaby]

Could you possibly do the fake dating au for Jack Horner with a bit of enemies to lovers?

OOO YES SOUNDS FUNNN!!

~ JACK HORNER X READER. ~

~ Fake dating + Enemies to Lovers. ~

~ CONTENT WARNING : SOME ANGST, ~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

God how did this happen.

He only asked himself, no one else, he was the only one to blame. He agreed to your stupid fucking idea, what was his fucking deal.

He hated having to pretend to love you, every day infront of people, it made him so mad he could just break your skull with his hand...

... But, he did it.

He hated you, you were just some obstacle, some little Pinnochio's Toy's manager. ( Or rival baking company owner, if you'd prefer. )

But you told him maybe it'd be a good idea. Maybe you could give him details, things he'd want to hear, but he had to promise to pretend to date you. You never explained why, you simply tricked him around asking you why.

Now, he sat at his desk. He was starting to enjoy your time, what's wrong with him? Pssh. When you are in a fake relationship, you don't fall in love with the very person you're 'in love' with. He rested his head into his hand, his elbow against the table as he read some newspaper. Nothing new, boring ole news. What a boring town, but hey he sold pies here. He tried to ignore that persistent banging in his head, that taunted him for even thinking of you in an actual romantic way.

But, he heard the door click open, as you stepped in. You looked in tears, your face red, as snot trickled down the little space that separated your nose and mouth. Your eyes plucked with agonizing tears, how red your eyes were as you could only sniffle.

What the hell? He raised a brow, not allowing the worry to prick at him too much, but he raised a large hand. He used his pointer finger, gesturing a 'come here' motion with a simple flick of the finger towards him.

You knew you shouldn't cry to him, you weren't dating him for actuality. You were dating him to get the scoop on him, to get many details about him. Guhh. What was wrong with you? But, you slipped in, as you used your hip to close the door. The door clicked upon the little buttons setting into place in the little cavity they were held in.

You couldn't help it, you broke down.

Why was this so hard? Why was everything so hard?

Worry suddenly sprang out of his mouth, his heart practically throwing itself out of his chest. He stood up, placing his two large palms upon his desk, standing up. That cushioned chair shooting back, almost slamming into the, needlessly tacky, mural of him in stain glass.

He rushed up, but stood a foot away from you. He faced a single foot towards you, but didn't step closer. He tried to keep a demeanor that he hated you.

"What's wrong with you?" He asked, confusion dripping off his tongue with the words that slipped out his mouth.

But you couldn't decipher anything. You just wanted to feel comfort.

"Everything.. Is so hard..." You sobbed out, struggling to take a breath.

What..?

... Wait, wait, wait..

What?

His voice echoed in his own head. Like a tidal wave, the feeling of dread echoed in his head.

What did you mean? The only words he could stammer out questioned why you even.. ... What was happening?,

You could only feel tidal waves of emotions slamming into you at max speeds that were practically trying to drown you in its own storm.

You couldn't help it.

You acted on your impulses, your head echoing, as you suddenly ran towards him and cried onto him, your face stuffed into him. His hands lifted up, practically in a defense in response to the sudden need of comfort from you. He felt you start to wet his vest with your salty tears.

What the hell-

He looked around, he didn't say a thing. He didn't feel bad, did he..? Maybe somewhat.

But, you were his enemy, his fake lover, he shouldn't think about you like this.

But, you seemed so kind to him, even if you weren't in public. But, you seemed to, just perfectly, crease him in ways he didn't even know. You seemed to care, atleast a little.

Of course, you knew you put on a huge act to get on his side. You taunted him at times,, surprised he didn't ever attack you, but yet he seemed to not mind how you treated him behind closes doors. Well-- He did always push you away, treat you harshly. Pssh. You thought it'd get you farther ahead, but you kept doing it.

But now? You're actually crying to him? Your ENEMY? How low could you get.

But, he stared down at you now, his eyes focused upon how you desperately sobbed into him. He was awkward, fumbling, he was never a master in this stupid comforting thing people needed. But, he tried, placing a hand upon your head. He only gently rubbed your hair, not saying a word.

He felt awkward. This wasn't him, was it?

He was a monster.

An irredeemable monster, at that.

But, you relied on him? What?

...

He has tried his best, but you calmed down finally.

He dared to bring up what you meant again, but it pinged dread in your heart. You only shook your head.

No, it was fine..

...

It wasn't fine, was it?

You relied on him, your enemy, for comfort ? Come on, you--

You must've tricked yourself into thinking you're actually dating. That-- That was happened, huh? That you were actuslly dating him?

He must've tricked himself into thinking you're actually dating him. Huh,? That's why he cared? That he thought you guys were a genuine couple? Somehow, a master manipulator had his own game twisted onto him.

Somehow, you, some kind of master manipulator, had their own game twisted onto them.

But, you now sat on the floor, your eyes still red from those hard tears that pained your eyes so hard that it felt like you couldn't see anymore. You sat by his large cushioned chair, as he started to work upon documents once more. A hand rested upon his thigh, tapping it with his index, creating some kind of beat against the leather that hid his legs.

...

You could only glance up to him, as you heard his pen scratch against the paper of something. He picked it up and easily folded it into half, in a hotdog way. But, his hand that had been creating a beat stopped and lifted up. He reached to a drawer, grabbing the golden D-Shaped handle and pulling it open. It let out a sad creak, only slightly as he let out a huff. Someone must've forgot to fix the creaky hinge. He looked annoyed at it, but he slipped a hand in, only to pinch and pull out an envelope. He opened it, carefully, placing the very thing he had written inside the throat of the envelope, the side flap being held by the bottom flap. He held open the seal flap. Both hands soon pinching the corners of the envelope, with just his index and thumb.

You stopped to watch.

He stuck out his tongue, as he brought the width of the seal towards his mouth, swiping his tongue along the nasty-tasting glue that activated upon the swipe of his tongue.

You watched as he folded the flap down, to secure it to the bottom flap.

You could only watch, as though he was some alien, like you were so shocked he even dared to exist. How smoothly he moved, he moved with intent no matter what he did.

The flap stuck to the bottom, as he set the envelope down upon the wooden desk. You thought he was done, maybe he was! I mean, he just had to write the address and such on it, right?

But, his large hand reached over... His index and thumb pinching the sides of something. You tried to see, trying to look for what he was grabbing, but he lifted up a wax sealer. He held the mahogany handle. Ohhh..

He already seemed to have lit the wax stick he was going to use, as he picked up the little spoon that held the wax. You watched, how it glazed down when he began to pour it upon where he needed it to be, where it was going to secure it more. The wax was a jam purple, with sparkles that shined as it dripped upon the seal of the envelope.

Woah...

He was so cool. What were you to do? You felt yourself smile, but you didn't even seem to care to wipe it off your face. You didn't care if you looked silly watching him do such a simple task, there was something about him that made him cool. But, you knew better, you shouldn't fall for your enemy.

But that was hard.

Especially with how he pulls you in by the waist infront of people, how he practically shows you off, makes you feel like you're the only person in the world.

He stopped letting the wax drip, as he set down the little spoon upon a napkin. He pushed the, rather durable, golden head of the stamp into the wax, as the wax oozed out the sides. He waited just a moment, even wiggling it around before he lifted it up.

Upon the bottom of the stamp, you caught glimpse of what it was. It was a little pie, with the letters 'J.H.' in the cross-stitched lattice. He let it dry, which didn't take too long, and he scratched the address upon the back, where it was going. He buzzed a little button upon the phone right by his righr side. He requested someone to deliver the letter.

You realized you had to get up, in a scurry you jumped to your feet, almost struggling to try to get up, like your legs were twisted into a knot. But, you stood by his side. You smiled, as he glared over at you.

But you slipped the letter off his desk, as you approached the door.

What the hell were you doing?

He watched, as when the worker came in, they glanced to Big Jack's 'lover'. They rushed up, easily giving them a big, goofy, grin. But, they took the letter gracefully, soon running out to deliver it.

...

You.. Gave them the letter instead of forcing them to run and grab it?

What kind of weird goody-two-shoes were you?

You weren't the enemy he thought you were. He thought you were like he, a malicious, mean, and scary person who would do anything to get their way.

Yet, you had some kind of consideration for a simple lowlife worker? Someone so easy to replace?

You seemed to balance him out, why did you do that, a ringing of confusion fogged up his mind. You had glanced back, as it seemed he was zoned out, so you didn't dare try to bring him back, but you walked back over. Your shoes clacking against the mahogany ground beneath you. You slowly slid back onto the floor, sitting in a criss-cross-applesauce position, only simply waiting for him to do more things. You held your knees and stared at him, awaiting the moment you seen his eyes click to signal he was back to reality.

... You weren't some evil bastard?

You had to be.

You weren't this nice, come on.

I mean, yeah, he's 'in love' with you, but that doesn't mean he's actually in love. He's just-- He has-- What did this all mean?

I mean, you did seem more happy when he did certain things, more of like-- When he did everything with you-- Like how you melted in his hands like putty when he would brag and show you off during meetings or talking to people, how you seemed to always want to help him, how you laughed at his jokes, oh god how your annoying laugh was so contagious, oh and how you listened so intently to every word he spoke, hanging on just to hear his voice, oh and how you smiled at him, how much he loved your teeth, how much you seemed to tell him he was perfect how he is ( though, he knew this already. ), how you lightly grazed his arm to ask if he needed help on some work, how you always seemed to get him more business deals. Ohhh and how you walked, how you talked, the funny little ways you said words, the funny little movements you made, how you acted with your friends, how you slept so peacefully in that little guest bedroom you stayed in, how you always tried and tried and--

...

Was he falling for a fake lover?

No, no. He couldn't be.

That's impossible.

He's Jack Horner.

BIG. Jack Horner.

THE irredeemable monster.

The magic maintainer,

The sorcery snatcher,

The divination mutilator, the voodoo coocoo, the charm farmer, the potion abduction, the pie man, the plum-thumb, the--

...

Was he really falling for you?

He was going out of his way to say he wasn't,

But,

Loves not impossible.

~~~~~~~

IM SURRY IF THIS ISNT WHAT YOU HAD IN MIND, I AMDE THIS DURKNG CLASS SO I APOLOGIZE FOR AANNYY MESS UPS :))!! ENJOY

[simonalkenmayer]

I’m sorry, could you explain more how humanism is linked to right wing fascism? My only prior knowledge of the term is the art movement, and even trying to read more about it is just telling me that it’s a belief system that prioritizes people over divinities, which strikes me as a good thing. I’m just not really understanding the link between these two.

Humanism is good. It’s about elevating the human experience in all its diversity, and protecting it. Making up for what humans lack through organizing a society. It’s what “liberalism” has been in the US for a hundred years.

Let’s see…how to say this without a chronological essay that you can get through your own reading…

Let’s start with Joe McCarthy. It goes all the way back to the slave trade, but for now let’s just start there. McCarthy and other conservatives in the post WWII era, were angry about how badly the Nazis had done. So were the remaining Nazis. Many of them went to South America and aligned themselves with dictators there. In dribs and drabs here and there, former Nazis joined right wing groups and began to say things like “in the power vacuum, communism will rise.” And so it did, but they vilified it. In fact, the World Anti Communism League was founded by a Hungarian Nazi sympathizer and death squad runner. They raised money for dictators, no joke, to “reject communism” but that is merely code for “keep Nazi ideals open”. Back here in the states, anti-communism became a dog whistle and a scare tactic. Any liberal who said a social welfare program might be good, was called a communist and their careers were destroyed.

When McCarthy tanked his career in back-biting narcissistic stupidity—as bad people often do— the communism scare fell apart. And those organizations split into two primary groups, reforming under different banners but with the same leadership. One wing targeted the end of segregation and the civil rights movement, and one began preaching moralism, specifically Christian moralism. This is when the myth of America as a Christian nation began, and through clever manipulation, they equated non-Christian to unAmerican.

Barry Goldwater jumped into that full speed, joining a group that evolved out of the anti-communist garbage. It was he who said extremism in defense of liberty is fine. When he ran for President, he allied the party to this new right wing religious stupidity. The several groups he was a part of folded up and flipped into the Christian Right and Moral Majority, and they are the Old Testament NeoCon radicals I’ve talked about. They’re the ones who are malicious and sneaky. Yes. I mean that.

Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson single handedly turned themselves into king makers, using their television platforms and the Christian Broadcasting Network to funnel shit into people’s ears. Their principle bone to pick? That Humanism, celebrating or protecting the human condition, is an act against god, who demands obedience. To them Gay people deserve to die. Anyone who isn’t Christian ought not hold office. To them, women should not have any rights, and the idea they can control their own uteruses is horrendous. It’s against god!

During his presidency, Reagan courted these radicals to use their clout. But he also sympathized with them. He had many ties to white supremacy and Nazis, but that’s another story. He destroyed the “Fairness doctrine” in broadcasting (easy to do since nazi-affiliated neocons had already gotten key positions in broadcasting) allowing for the new genre “infotainment” to exist. Television personalities who discussed news no longer had to give balanced coverage.

A couple months later, Rush Limbaugh put out his first episode, and within weeks was syndicated by over 200 stations. Roger Ailles, who worked for Reagan, loved his style, his crass, divisive, speculative hatred. It was on that model that he built Fox News for Rupert months later.

Conspiracy theory has often been used to influence voting, but in this case, conspiracy theorists and all their garbage, ties DIRECTLY back to Nazis. Humanism says being cruel to anyone is wrong. It is anathema to their way of life.

But wait! There’s Newt Gingrich. When he became minority leader, he put out a memo to all GOP candidates, specifically outlining how to manipulate voters. He listed words to use. He talked about how critical propaganda is. We have him to thank for “radical left” “leftist media” and other Trump phrasing. And then he rolled that over into his Contract with America, aka the GOP platform. During the Clinton years, when he wasn’t quietly passing these horrific changes, he was working with an entire group of right wing researchers to find dirt on Clinton and the mill it into something that would stoke the moral outrage of the right. When they found the Lewinsky scandal, they struck gold. Ken Star, recently fucked off to hell, was not even supposed to be investigating sex. He was supposed to be investigating the Whitewater business. He claimed that during the course of hearing from witnesses about the real estate deal, he’d uncovered an affair, and when asked about it, Clinton lied, because his wife didn’t know. And then? They impeached him for lying about a controversy they dug up.

Go google the news. McCarthy just enacted a new contract with America. In it? Abortion bans. It’s the same MORAL Majority, Nazi-backed platform it always was. Except that now they’re saying the quiet part aloud.

The problem was that the opposition never called a spade a spade and just let it happen.

That, my friends, is how we got Trump.

The GOP is so closely interwoven with these groups, it doesn’t actually know who it is. It really doesn’t. And it sculpts its base through vilifying humanism as an act of rebellion against God. They do not have solutions. They are a party built around gathering power, influence, and wealth. They hate anyone who is not male and white and Christian.

[ladylyra]

kurai and fyren are both wonderful designs!!! do they have lore behind them like the other gijinkas? I wasn't sure if they would since you didn't seem interested in sv. either way, I love them!

If I'm being honest, I'm actually very interested in the substance of the games. The story is probably the best they've put out since gen 5 imo (right after we got out of one of the worst with the last gen lol). I love the characters. Having the three stories split up was something I'd never think to do that ended up benefiting the pace of the game really well by not having any one story either derail or stifle you with its delivery. It's just a shame it got rushed out and released in an unacceptable state :(

ALL THAT ASIDE they have some lore yes.

for fyren, he's a singer and performer from the underworld (the same one that exists in my other stories) but there's not a lot of details about his actual life. he has a very extroverted stage persona but is a lot more mellow in their personal life, which is very jarring for people that try to get close to them; once it's revealed they're not nearly as gregarious, a lot of people usually drop out of the running for their friendship--in the very least, this means that his friends are mostly people who actually appreciate who he is.

he has a small romantic history with souta. i'd consider them similarly mysterious and had a mutual shared interest in sort of 'figuring out' the other. souta's genuinely extroverted and fun-loving, so i think fyren was attracted to all those qualities that they merely emulated on stage. it didn't ultimately work out because fyren's one passion is his music and performing, and someone they'd be involved in would have to share that goal and also not mind being second to it. they would also have to deal with dating a famous-ish person. so, yup, didn't work. they're still friends though :)

kurai comparatively probably doesn't have as much interesting lore, but i always imagined him as some disillusioned college graduate. pursuing a field that relies on a lot of networking and connections didn't serve him well, though, because he's horrible at basically all of that and didn't have the determination to push through his feelings.

he has a very difficult time communicating with others normally, but it's even worse when it comes to his work, because he can get defensive over his artistic vision and hates explaining it to others. he can come off as very defensive because of this--definitely regrets opening his mouth 5 minutes later, so in the end he ends up avoiding others or shutting them down before disaster can happen.

i think he does lots of freelance work but, like i said, very difficult to work with. works a ton of odd jobs to compensate, but permanent employment is a bit more dicey because they usually want him to start dressing and acting differently so, yeah, not happening.

the giant paintbrush is used for a lot of abstract murals. also graffiti sometimes but he's had to slow that a little bc ppl were catching on. some of it negative attention but even the people who thought he was cool he wanted to push away :(

[sankta-starkova]

BURN IT DOWN

028; KEEP CLIMBING

previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

summary: the one where harlow kaz realised that the world was going to end but she decided to try and save it with the people that she cared about, no matter what it takes

wordcount: 2.0k

"There's fighting on the beach, they've locked down the beach and closed the shield gate," K2 explained.

Harlow shook her head, "Damn it!" She yelled out as she realised the shield gate was closed. It ruined the whole plan.

"What does that mean?" Jyn asked, looking her confused.

"We're trapped, there's no satellite big enough to transmit the plans to the rebel fleet," she said, shaking her head in anger and frustration, "All this was for nothing,"

"We will get a signal up to tell them it's coming, but the size of the data is too great, it will never get through," K2 explained.

"Someone has to take the shield gate down," Cassian said.

They all stood there for a second and he reached for the comms device in his pocket, watching as Harlow paced back and forth in frustration.

"Bodhi, Bodhi, can you hear me?" Cassian asked and when he didn't hear a reply, he started to get annoyed, "Tell me you're out there,"

"We're standing by. They've started fighting, the base is on lockdown," Bodhi said and Harlow could hear the shake in his voice.

"I know, listen to me. The rebel fleet is up there. You gotta tell them to blow a hole in the shield gate so we can transmit the plan," Cassian said, his voice softer as he realised how nervous Bodhi was.

"I can't, I'm not hooked into the comms tower" he said, his voice fast and defensive.

Harlow sighed, walking over to the comms device, "Its the only way we're getting them out of here, find a way," she said.

He agreed and shut off the communication just as a few Stormtroopers came into the room, clearly having realised that somebody unauthorised had accessed the machine.

"Cover our backs K," Harlow said as her and Cassian rushed into the data vault room.

"You'll need this," Jyn said, holding her blaster out to K2 before she went into the room.

He took it hesitantly, "Your behaviour, Jyn Erso, is continuously unexpected," he said before she rushed into the room.

"Schematic bank, data tower two," K2 called out.

"How do I find that?" Harlow asked as she approached the console, this was her area of expertise and she knew she could do this.

"Searching," K2 replied and Harlow watched as a bunch of images appeared on the screens.

Harlow watched as all of the data banks popped up on the screen and she shook her head, she knew there was no way that they could find it in all of this mess.

"I can find the links but you'll need to use the handles for extraction," K2 explained.

Harlow looked around, shaking her head as she realised what she needed was right in front of her. She grabbed onto the handles, narrowing her eyes at it.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" She muttered to herself, locking her hands into the console and moving it around.

When she moved it, it would make a large ring around the data bank move up and down or side to side and she started to get a hang of the device.

They heard more footsteps and Jyn was about to check for more stormtroopers when the door to the vault closed and locked.

Harlow turned around, eyes going wide as she looked at the lock. It may have been a big room but the fear of knowing that the door was locked made her claustrophobia apparent.

"Breath Low," Cassian said as he walked over to her, a hand gently rubbing over her back gently before grabbing the comms device, "K, what's going on out ther?"

"Just a few Stormtroopers," he said and they could hear the sound of the gunfire outside.

Jyn kept reading out the names of the different data banks before she stopped, letting out a shaky breath as she looked at the machine.

"Stardust," she said, her voice quiet before she repeated it again with more confidence, "That's it,"

Harlow turned to look at her, "How do you know that?" She questioned, hands still locked into the system.

"I know because it's me," she said and Harlow nodded.

She reached out, maneuvering the machine towards where the data bank was being held, trying to keep the machine steady.

She locked it into place, pulling harshly on the machine and watching as the data unhinged itself, allowing her to access the specific schematics.

But just as soon as she had managed to do that, the lights started flickering on and off and Cassian pulled the comms device on. As soon as it turned on, they heard blasters firing and yelling and they knew that something bad was going on outside.

"Climb, climb, you can still send the plans to the fleet," he said, his voice cracking over the static, "If they open the shield gate you can broadcast them from the tower,"

They heard the blasters keep going off and the three looked at each other as they realised they had to do this by themselves now.

Harlow thought back to Nemik telling them to keep climbing when they were in that ship. He had saved them that day and she had always vowed to never stop climbing.

And she wasn't going to stop now. Even if the empire killed another one of her friends, she was never going to stop climbing and was never going to stop fighting for the rebellion.

"Locking the vault door now, goodbye," K2 said and they heard the communication line go silent. K2 was dead.

They were locked in permentantly now and even though Harlow had been able to stave off the fear for a little bit earlier, the sickening feeling in her stomach was coming back at the idea of being locked in here.

She stripped off her uniform along with Cassian and Jyn, leaving her in just her trousers and the cami top that she had worn under the uniform.

She was still boiling hot though, the hot flashes of fear constantly washing over her even though she tried to keep her composure.

Cassian had noticed instantly that she was worried about being in the confined space and he walked over, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind.

"Hey," he said, his voice soft and reassuring, "It's okay, we're going to get out of here,"

He pulled away, pressing a soft kiss to the exposed skin on her shoulder before walking away, leaving her to get all her knives ready.

"What's wrong with her?" Jyn asked as she pulled the clunky uniform off.

"Enclosed spaces, being locked in places. It's her worst fear, she could kill 100 men but she can't do this," he said, shaking his head.

He looked over and saw her muttering something to herself, her hands grasping onto the necklaces around her neck as she tried to stay calm.

Cassian sighed, "When Stormtroopers slaughtered her village, she hid in a cellar for four days, she hates being locked away," he explained.

She reached for a chair, grabbing it and throwing it at the window, watching as the glass smashed and the chair fell down the cavern below.

She looked back at Cassian and Jyn, her trademark smirk on her face as they all walked over. It was almost like she had never been scared at all.

"I'm going to jump over," Harlow stated and Cassian looked at her, brows furrowed.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" He questioned and she nodded her head.

"Best one we've got, you guys come over after me," she said, climbing out the window.

She looked at Cassian as she held onto the ledge, nodding before jumping to the other side, hands gripping the data vault side.

Harlow turned around, an adrenaline filled smile on her face as she looked back at them, holding her thumb up.

Jyn jumped next and then Cassian, the three scaling the middle in search of the right one. They found it eventually, hanging out from where Harlow had tried to pull it earlier.

She looked down at the other two and pulled it out, tugging it as hard as she could, nearly falling back in the process.

Cassian called out her name in fear, his arm coming out to grab her but she had already regained her balance, her hand coming back to hold onto the centre as she looked down at them, heart pounding.

He shook his head at her antics and she passed the data piece to Jyn. Harlow reached in, pulling out a key fob.

The message was in a two person system to make sure that it was secure. One person would input the actual data while another one okayed it on the key fob.

They thought that they were in the clear and were preparing to make their way back to the room when another door opened.

Standing at the entranceway was Krennik and two stormtroopers and they were all holding guns.

They started shooting and Cassian pulled out his gun, shooting at them whilst trying to dodge the fire himself. He managed to shoot both of the stormtroopers and Harlow watched them fall down into the abyss.

Her and Jyn started climbing round the back out of Krenniks view, they both had the plans and they couldn't risk losing it now.

Harlow looked down at Cassian and he nodded, "Keep climbing!" He yelled out.

Once again, she thought of Nemik and nodded her head, her hands coming up to grab for the next rung and the next.

She wasn't going to stop because if she did then this would all have been for nothing and they would die there having failed the rebellion.

When she heard a yell, she looked down and saw Krennik had shot Cassian and his hands had fallen off of the centre.

She screamed out his name, eyes falling on Krennik as he looked at them with a sense of pride.

Harlow watched as the love of her life fell down, hitting two poles with a clank and then falling onto a platform. He was completely lifeless.

She had never expected to see him like that, body limp as he just lay there, unable to get up. She didn't know if he was dead but every bone in her body told her that she couldn't leave him there.

She had lost too many people that she had loved, whether they had died or they had betrayed her but either way, she had lost too much.

Harlow reached down, her hand coming to grab the fob as she held it out for Jyn. She wasn't going to leave Cassian.

"Take it," she yelled out, her voice breaking as she tried to get Jyn to leave.

"I can't, you have to come with me," the other woman said and Harlow shook her head.

She looked back down at Cassian where he was lying, having not moved an inch and she didn't have time to worry. She didn't have time to grieve for the life she had lost.

Harlow took a deep breath, pressing her forehead against the cool metal of the centre platform and nodded, attaching it back to her belt.

She reached for the next rung and they kept climbing up to th roof, trying to make it to the satellite because otherwise his death would be in vain.

"Keep climbing, keep climbing," She repeated over and over again beneath her breath, the mantra being the only thing that was keeping her going.

She tried to hold on tears as she neared the top, jumping through the opening and closing platform with Jyn.