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noxturnalpascal · 1 year

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The Hunted

SerialKiller!Joel x F!Reader (8.2k)

DARKAU! POV will switch between Joel and Reader. This is dark compared to anything I’ve ever written before. I am a spooky girlie at heart and I wanted to give this idea some legs. If it’s not your thing, that’s okay. Spooky Halloween everyone!

Summary: This Ken is a Ski Instructor. This Ken is a Veterinarian. Well, this Joel is a Serial Killer. The canon Joel is actually kind of a serial killer too, if you think about it. But this version is No-Outbreak, 56-years old, and a Violent, Deranged, Serial Killing Loner. When a new victim practically falls in his lap, he doesn’t take the time to see that she could be his undoing.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI. This is a little dark (for me). Murder, Dead Bodies, Sex, Kidnapping, Bondage, DubCon (they want it but they’re tied to a chair), creampie, blood, violence, semen, crime scenes.

A/N: This is: creepy plot with porn at the end. It’s my first posted tumblr story. Spooky Season is upon us!! Please be nice 💜

He’s been enjoying the silence of the cabin in the woods all afternoon. The only sounds surrounding him have been the soft bird songs and din of cicadas drifting through the open window from the outside, and the rustling of his own body moving about the small rooms inside.

The sound catches him so off guard, that at first he looks around the inside of the cabin, trying to figure out where the hum could be emanating from. The cabin is not hooked up to electric, so what could be making that sound? Then he realizes it's coming from outside. He looks out the windows and sees a figure hunched in the bushes, a stone’s throw away from his front door.

He steps to the front door and quietly opens it, watching her at the wood’s edge. It’s definitely a woman, he can tell by the double braids winding down the back of her head, ending in pigtails. She is wearing dark wash blue jeans, a green jacket, and has on a rust-colored backpack. He can hear her humming even clearer now, the melody traversing the short distance to his ears.

He watches as she stays hunched over, reaching into the bushes and rustling the leaves. Nearly a minute passes before she finally stands, wiping her hands off on her thighs. He notices a small wooden bowl at her feet, stuffed full with berries. She is sucking on her fingertips, stained a light purple, when she turns and meets his eyes.

“Oh!,” she says, startled by his presence. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think anyone was in this ol’ thing.”

She gestures towards the cabin. She has a point. Even at first glance, the woods surrounding the cabin appear to be putting forth their best effort to reclaim it. The roof is covered in fallen leaves, moss and lichen cling to every surface, and the front steps - made of flattop logs - are sinking down, seeming to retreat back into the forest floor. And what he knows that she doesn't - yet? - is that the musty smell of the forest has permeated every square inch of the old log cabin’s interior, and everything inside of it.

He puts on his warmest smile, softening the way his eyes are squinted, and blinks slowly. “Yeah, she’s not much but she keeps me honest,” he says, and he notices the way her body relaxes at his gentle, comforting tone.

“I’m guessin’ I’ve wandered too far. Sorry, I didn’t notice any signs posted.” The gentle lilt of her southern accent hits his ears like a sweet melody.

“Yeah, state land ends at the treeline at the bottom ‘a that hill,” he gestures to the distance, her gaze following where he points. “But I don’t shoot or bite or nothin’, so don’t worry about steppin’ on my property,” he chuckles. He can see her continuing to relax under his welcoming reception.

“I appreciate that. I’ve got one ‘a those little vans in the clearing down there, ‘n I expected more people to be around if I’m being honest.”

He notices she’s said I, not we.

“It’s gettin’ the end of camping season, so there’s fewer ‘n fewer out here, I think,” he waves his hand, hoping to convey how little he even notices the campers on the adjacent land.

“Well I’m sorry about stealin’ your berries. You want ‘em?” and she takes a few steps forward, closing the gap between them, holding the small bowl in her outstretched arms.

The pigtails make her look young. So does the innocence in her eyes, which are partially hidden behind her thick-framed glasses. She stops short of the steps, still about six feet away now, still holding out the bowl.

“No, ‘course not,” he gives her a sideways grin. “Those were gonna get eaten by birds before they got eaten by me. You enjoy ‘em little bird.” His guts twist at the smile that breaks out on her face. The way she looks down, almost bashful.

She turns to walk away and then stops, turning back to look at him. He watches her as she gives the outside of the deteriorating cabin another once-over, and then looks him up and down. “Can I ask you somethin’?” and before he can even respond, she continues. “Is it safe around here?”

His stomach clenches. He gently furrows his brows, “yeah, sure it is, why?”

“I’ve heard a couple things recently about people going missin’. Hikers and campers near here,” she gestures in a circular motion with her finger. “You heard anything about that?”

She is worried. He can tell because she looks worried. God, every emotion she has is playing across her face right now. He can read her like a book. She is so vulnerable. She’s a young woman camping all alone in the woods and she is worried. She should be.

“I haven’t heard anything myself, no. But that happens every year. People underestimate it.”

“Underestimate what?” she interjects, her doe eyes scanning his face.

“Nature,” he replies, and now he gestures around with his finger.

He gives her another soft smile and blinks his eyes slowly. She lets a genuine grin break through her worried features and she nods, taking in his response.

“I wouldn’t worry too much, there’s no one out here to cause ya trouble,” he offers, hoping she notes that he is clearly not a danger. “Besides, if anything happens, you can come back here.”

This time her smile falters a bit. He’s pushed too far. She’s worried. She’s alone. She’s not looking to seek refuge in a stranger’s cabin. He backtracks.

“I’m sure the worst thing that’s gonna happen is ya find a spider in your van,” he continues, “But please don’t come back here for that!”

He gives a low chuckle and is glad to see she does the same, good humor returning to her now relaxing face. She gestures to the bowl of berries and flashes a toothy-smile as a thanks, before turning to retreat down the hill. He hears her call out a goodbye after she turns and he calls one back in response.

He goes back inside and finishes watching her leave until the trees hide her departing figure. He has about seven more hours until dark fully takes hold. Seven more hours until he can seek her out in the clearing with the safe knowledge of remaining undetected. Plenty of time for him to finish prepping the cabin and get himself some dinner.

*****

He thinks he might be getting too old for this. His lower back is aching, his thighs are on fire, and he’s had a stabbing pain in his neck for the last twenty minutes; all due to the fact that he has been hunched against this tree for over an hour. Usually he wouldn’t still be here. He’d have made some observations, taken some mental notes, and planned for additional reconnaissance later on.

But he doesn’t know how long you’re going to be here. You haven’t unpacked anything - not even a folding chair - to indicate that your campsite setup will be anything more than a one-night stay. If you’re gone tomorrow and he has missed his opportunity, he’ll regret leaving now. He has spent the last eight hours thinking about nothing but you.

He’s thought about the way your delicate lips wrapped around your fingertips and the gentle melody you hummed before you knew he was there. He has thought about the kind way you offered him the berries you picked and the way your jeans hugged your ass as you sauntered away. What would your eyes look like if he took your glasses off, if he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, if he wrapped his big hands around your delicate throat?

No, he has to do it tonight. He can’t wait any longer.

Your van is all black. Besides the windshield, there are windows only at the two front seats and the rear double doors. However, you have all the windows covered with blackout panels. Smart. You’re a young woman camping alone, keeping your privacy is a smart thing to do. And keeping peeping eyes out of your space is probably important to you.

You’ve been playing music inside the entire time, though he doesn’t recognize any of the songs. Sometimes he thinks he can hear you humming along. He imagines you’re eating the berries you picked from the bushes outside his cabin. Maybe you’ve changed into more comfortable clothing, maybe you’re sitting on your bed, maybe you’re reading a book. Maybe you’re even thinking about him. He tried not to make an impression earlier but part of him hopes he did.

He really can’t wait any longer.

He moves slowly, not just because his body is quite literally creaking, but because he has to keep his head on a swivel and continue to make sure there are no eyes watching him. He makes his way towards the van, choosing his steps carefully. His head moves back and forth, checking in front of and behind him, watching for any movement. The night is so quiet all he hears is the gentle wind rustling the tall grass and the constant cricket song.

He finally reaches the side door of the van. The music inside is louder from here but he still doesn’t recognize the song. He pats his pockets, obsessively triple-checking he has the supplies he’ll need. He pulls a small tool out of his shirt pocket and sticks it in the door lock. He feels rather than hears the soft click that he knows means he now has full access to you.

He puts his hand on the door handle and inhales a breath, holding it with full lungs. He closes his eyes and imagines what he’ll see when he opens the door, warm light spilling onto him from the inside. What will you be wearing? Will you look excited to see him? Frightened? Will you scream?

“Hey there little bird,” he says quietly as he throws the door open. Confusion falls across his face. He looks down onto the floor of the van, where a single bluetooth speaker sits, still playing music. The single overhead light from the van’s interior barely illuminates the inside, but it doesn’t matter, since there isn’t anything to see.

The inside of the van isn’t a camper. It’s an empty utility van. There are no seats and no wall panels. In fact, the entire inside of the van is covered in thick plastic sheeting, which vibrates a strange buzz from the reverberation of the bluetooth speaker.

He has barely taken it all in when he feels a pinch in his neck. He grabs at it with his hand but there is nothing there and before he can react further, everything goes black.

*****

You hear a couple deep breaths and then some grunting. Maybe this means he’s finally waking up. You walk around in front of where he sits bound naked to a chair, and bend over, hands on your knees, face close to his, cooing gently for him to wake up sleepyhead.

Standing up straight, you watch as he slowly opens his eyes, bit by bit, working to focus. He is blinking long, slow blinks, and his eyes raise to your face. His pupils start going big and then small, his eyes start rapidly blinking as his swirling thoughts begin to come back to him.

Then you see it - recognition.

He crinkles his brows, the crease between them going so deep. His mouth begins to form a question but only a short, dry croak comes out. You can’t help yourself, you laugh at him. A quiet, melodic chuckle.

“Sorry, I think I gave you too much back there,” with two fingers you brush some hair off his forehead that has fallen forward. “I thought you were fatter under all these clothes, but you’re doing alright for yerself there.”

His eyes fall to your shirt - well, his shirt - and then to his own lap. He’s just realizing he’s naked. Then his eyes trail back up your body as he takes in the fact that you’re wearing all of the clothes you stripped off him.

His mouth opens again but you don’t let him even try to speak this time. You grab his face and his eyes snap to meet yours. “Remember when I asked if you knew anything about those campers and hikers goin’ missing?” You drop your hand from his face and step to the side to reveal a folding table set up behind you. Along the table you have laid an array of different souvenirs he had plucked from his victims.

“You told me you didn’t know anything,” you continue, as you watch his eyes grow larger as they rake across the table, taking in the items he had hidden away in his cabin. “But honey, I think you know a lot more than you said you did.”

His eyes slowly come back to yours and you can’t hide the smile you now have plastered across your face. “I don’t-” he starts. You quickly shove your finger overtop his mouth in a shush motion.

“Don’t even try that honey, we’re way past denial now. I already found all yer little trophies.”

Now he flexes in the chair. Your finger drags down his neck and across his shoulder as you walk around the chair, circling him. You watch him continue to strain, testing the ropes, checking to see for himself if you knew what you were doing when you tied him to the chair. You did.

“So what is this?” he mutters, “One a’ them yer friend? Your brother or sister or somethin’?” He continues to push against the unforgiving ropes. “This some kinda revenge plot you got brewin’?”

You can’t help it, you laugh again. “Oh honey, is that what you think?” You place your finger at the top of his forehead and slowly run it down his face, “You think you’ve hurt me?” over his nose, “Think I’m your victim?” over his lips, stopping on his chin. You lean in and ghost your lips right over his. “I’m not your victim honey,” you whisper against his lips, “you’re mine,” pressing into him with a kiss.

You stand up and take a step back. “I know what you are. I know exactly what you are because I’m the same. Well, almost the same,” and you laugh again, breaking eye contact. “When I was young, my adoptive father recognized it in me n’ taught me how to direct it. He called it my dark passenger and I-”

“Y-yer what?” he interrupts.

“What?” You’re back to looking him in his eyes.

“Did you say your dark passenger?” He looks past the folding table strewn with his trophies and sees the ‘camper van’ parked with the side door still wide open, inside still covered with plastic sheeting. “Dark passen- isn’t that from that fuckin’ TV show? Dexter?”

“What the fu-,” you slap your arms against your thighs in frustration. “Don’t tell me you get fuckin’ Showtime in that piece a shit cabin. There wasn’t even a fuckin’ TV in that shithole.”

“Well I don’t fuckin’ live there sweetheart that’s just where I-” he stops short but just rolls his eyes at you. Then he gives you a look like he’s embarrassed for you.

“Oh well excuse me for wantin’ to add a little flair to this situation!” you yell out to the ceiling. “I guess we can’t have any fuckin’ fun around here.”

“So what’re you gonna do now Dex, chop me up and take me out to the ocean?” a cocky fucking grin settles on his face..

“Jesus Christ what’d you watch the whole fuckin’ series?” You look down at his smug face. He thinks he has the upper hand again. This motherfucker. Naked. Tied to a chair. Still thinks he’s smarter than you.

“You know how much fuckin’ work it’d be to chop your fat ass up?” and you watch his grin get wiped off his face. “Think I’m gonna take the time to dismember you? You? I could leave you just like this in a shallow ditch ‘n not one person would even miss you honey.”

“Then whatcha’ fuckin’ waitin’ for, huh?” He snarls, his smugness gone. “Get it over with, let’s go.”

You walk behind him and grab a second chair, dragging it noisily across the floor until it’s parallel to his own chair but facing the other way. You plop down in the chair and lean closer to him.

“I really don’t know how you’re still not gettin’ it,” you say quietly. You drag your finger along the ropes across the front of his chest as he lowers his chin to watch you. “But you are not in charge here.” He lifts his head and his hard eyes meet yours.

“Now… I’m gonna ask you some questions and you’re gonna answer me honestly.”

“And why would I fuckin’ do that?” he says calmly, quietly.

“Cuz otherwise I’m gonna call 9-1-1 right now. When they get here they’ll see I’ve done all their work for ‘em.” you hitch your thumb back to point it towards the table behind you. He sighs a deep breath and - growls? - under his breath.

You point to the table again and ask, “How do you choose your victims?” He shakes his head, tries to shift in his chair but the ropes are tied too tight to allow for much movement. You really do know what you’re doing. He still doesn’t seem to believe it, flexing his arms and chest against the ropes yet again.

“I don’t.” You give him a beat to add more to the sentence but he just stares at you with black eyes, mouth closed and tight-lipped.

“You’re gonna have to do a little better n’ that honey,” you gently coo. He suppresses another growl. You can tell that your little nickname for him is finally starting to grate on his nerves.

“That’s my answer,” he grumbles, refusing to elaborate, staring ahead at the folding table.

“Okay hun, no problem,” you reply as you lean forward and pull a cell phone out of your back pocket. You punch in the lock code and begin to dial. You type in 9 and you see him watching you out of the corner of your eye. You quickly type in the 1 and then hover your finger over the button, ready to repeat the motion. You pause and look up, meeting his eyes.

“You wanna call my bluff or you wanna start talkin’?” and then you smile as you hear jesus fuckin’ christ muttered under his breath and watch him spend some more time straining against the ropes. “Get it over with, let’s go,” you repeat his words back to him in a bad impression of his gruff voice. His scowl deepens.

“I don’t,” he repeats. “I don’t choose ‘em.” He sighs, and you open your mouth to protest that he’s still holding back but before you can speak he continues, “I just take what’s there.”

“You don’t have a type?”

“You seem to know everythin’, look at ‘em,” he nods towards the table where you have placed cut out photos from the missing posters next to the trinkets you found in his cabin. “Does it look like I have a type?” You remember the photos of men and women from all backgrounds on that table.

“So you just take whatever… whoever you can get?”

“Easier that way. Don’t have to go findin’ something specific.” He’s not making eye contact anymore, even though you have leaned in so far your faces are just inches apart. “Less suspicious that way too. Looks less like one person is pickin’ ‘em all off.” He shrugs, then quiets.

You lean back in your chair now, thinking over what he’s said. He’s been doing this for years. You could connect some of his souvenirs to known missing people but he had more items stuffed in his floorboards than you had pictures. So who knows how high his number really is.

“Is that all of ‘em?” nodding your head back towards the table again. His head is still down, seemingly very interested in a freckle on his left thigh. But you see a smile tug at one side of his mouth. He tries to hide it before you can see but it’s too late.

“Yeah,” he lies, unconvincingly. He doesn’t see you roll your eyes. God he’s shit at lying.

You raise the phone up and wave it in front of his face, showing the 9-1 still dialed in. “Is that your final answer, honey?” He lets out a big sigh, like you’ve spoiled his fun. That’s right, we can’t have any fun around here, can we?

“Not exactly,” he grumbles. “Camping season is short ‘round here. Winter comes on quick. I have somewhere else I go sometimes,” he vaguely adds. He doesn’t elaborate further.

“Do you have sex with ‘em before or after you kill ‘em?” you ask, not even taking time to absorb his previous answer. His head snaps up to yours, his eyes wide.

“What?”

“Do you have se-”

“I don’t fuckin’ do that,” he spits, face contorted in disgust.

“Yeahhhh. But that’s what they all say. And, spoiler alert,” your voice goes high and teasing, “they ALL do it.” His face is still tight, mouth curled into a frown.

“Well I fuckin’ don’t,” he looks back down at the freckle on his thigh, continuing to curse under his breath how disgusting you are for asking. “Killin’ doesn’t get me hard,” he snarls.

“Oh honey, I don’t know why you’re goin’ all shy on me now,” you coo, he’s still looking down, shaking his head now. “I’ve been in your little hidey-hole, ya know. It smells like fuckin’ loam ‘n body odor. I took a black light. That place is truly fuckin’ disgusting.” You adjust your glasses on your nose and continue, “I didn’t find a single cleaning product in the whole place. And now you’re gonna act like you’re not in there sprayin’ blood and cum all over the walls?” He doesn’t raise his head but his eyes meet yours under his eyebrows to scowl at you. You lean in till your noses almost touch. “A black light,” you repeat.

“That’s a huntin’ cabin sweetheart, and it wasn’t always mine. So I can’t tell you what yer little black light saw but it wasn’t me doin’ - that - with any ‘a them,” he nods to the table.

Now you consider what he’s said and decide if you believe him or not. He’s a terrible liar, right? Maybe. Or maybe he’s just been playing you this entire time. You don’t give a shit that he’s a murderer. Anyone would murder under the right circumstances. But sexual assault? That’s a line you’d never cross. In fact, most of the men you’ve killed have been guilty of it themselves. Pigs, all of them, who’d stick their dicks anywhere for a moment of pleasure. They deserved what they got. Is this guy one of them?

“Well like I said, that’s what they all say, n-”

He interrupts, muttering jesus fuckin’ christ again, and more curses follow in whispers. “Is there fuckin’ evidence that I did any ‘a that? Any… sexual assault?” he spits the last two words out with particular venom, speaking the term for the first time.

“You’re askin’ if there’s any evidence on the months-old decomposing body parts found half-eaten in the woods?” You poke the freckle on his thigh he’s been seemingly obsessed with. “Surprisingly, no, there was not any evidence of sexual assault found.”

“Well then, there ya go,” he grunts out, as if that settles it. He clearly doesn’t want to talk about it anymore. You can’t tell if it’s from shame, discomfort, or disgust. He’s doing a good job pretending it’s disgust. Is he pretending?

You try to ask another question but he is done talking. He won’t look up from his lap now. You even hold up the cell phone again but he doesn’t flinch. He knows by now you’re not going to dial the police. He’s shut down. So you get up and pull your chair away, disappearing behind him for a moment.

When you come back in front of him you sit on his lap, facing him, straddling his legs with yours. He looks up at you with cautious eyes and opens his mouth to say something - but say what you’re not sure. When he feels the sharp poke just under his ribs he stops short. He looks down and sees the 5” knife you have pressed into the soft spot where his sternum ends.

“I guess it’s time then, honey,” you hum. The hand not holding the knife traces the side of his face. He looks almost sad for one singular moment before his eyes turn hard and all the muscles in his face pull tight.

“If ya expect me to beg, you’re wastin’ yer time.” His pupils are blown wide. “Just do it.”

“How about you stop bein’ so bossy on our first date?” You lean in and kiss him on the nose, then the right cheek, then the left cheek. “Well….. Our last date,” and you kiss him on the mouth.

You press your lips hard into his and wait. When he doesn’t relent you take your free hand and squeeze his cheeks, hard, forcing his mouth open. Risking him biting your tongue, you push it into his mouth. Your gamble pays off when he doesn’t bite but instead pushes his tongue back and forth along the length of yours.

You wrap your free arm around his shoulders, bracing yourself and grinding your body down into his naked lap. You press your chest into his as your hand moves to the back of his head and fists in his wild curls. You continue kissing him, tongues wrapping around each other, lips moving sloppily across each other’s mouths.

You move your wet kisses down his jaw, mouthing at the patches in his graying, scruffy beard. You grab a handful of his hair and squeeze your fist, tugging gently at the roots. He grits his teeth and groans, attempting to buck his hips up.

Of course he can’t move against the restraints, but you grind down again, and you can finally feel that he’s gotten hard through the baggy jeans you’re still wearing. You let a low chuckle slip out.

“I thought killin’ didn’t get you hard,” you smile against his mouth.

“Who am I killin’?” he mutters, still simmering with anger at the topic.

Oh yeah, you giggle, your breath ghosting across his neck. “I guess I’m the one who it’s gettin’ hard,” you whisper.

You can’t help it. The anticipation of the kill is thrumming through your veins. It’s always like this, the energy, the electricity. Killing makes you feel more alive. You usually aren’t making out with them though. Never, in fact. This time feels different. You’re not sure why.

You lick a stripe up his neck, rolling your hips over his hardened length, and now he bites, nipping gently at your jaw. You squirm and the knife pokes harder into his abdomen. He inhales a sharp breath through his nose at the contact. You silence any additional protest by kissing him hard on the mouth again.

You pull back, face flushed and panting. He is looking at you with wild eyes and puffy lips, his hair pulled at strange angles from your hands running through it. Do you want to fuck this guy? You just brought him here to kill him but now you think you want to fuck him. This is a morally gray area. He’s bound to a chair and you have a knife at his ribs. Can he consent?

“Why’d ya stop?” he huffs out, bringing your attention back to him. “Are we doin’ this or what?”

“It feels kinda fucked up,” you say meekly, the first time he’s seeing any hesitation from you. You look down, twirling the knife against the rope crossing his chest. “It’s not gonna change my mind ‘bout what happens here ya know.”

“I didn’t say it would,” he says quietly, and you look back into his eyes. His eyes are dark, like fresh brewed coffee. They’d be kinda nice if they weren’t about to be on a dead guy.

“You…. you want this?”

“Why not?” he immediately answers.

“Because I’m gonna kill you after,” and even though you’re sure he doesn’t need the reminder, you poke him lightly in the ribs with the knife again, leaving a little red dot from the tip. He doesn’t react this time. He just lets a small smile ghost across his face and his eyes soften as they land on yours.

“What a way to go.”

It’s all you need to hear. You get up and uncinch the belt that is the only thing holding his pants up around your waist. As soon as it’s loosened, the pants fall to the floor, the belt buckle tinkling as it hits the concrete. You’re not wearing any underwear but the view of your cunt is obstructed by the long flannel shirt draped over you.

You take the knife and stick it in the edge of the shirt about breast-high, just above where you have the first button done up. You slowly drag the knife down the placket, cutting each button off easily with the very sharp blade. The buttons clatter to the floor one by one and when you’ve reached the last one, the shirt opens up a bit.

It’s just enough to see the valley between your breasts, a line of your soft stomach, the patch of hair on your mound, and your pink folds peeking out between your legs. You watch him looking you up and down, devouring the sight of you. His brown eyes now black with hunger. Now you can finally take the time to admire his body.

Yes you had stripped him naked and then tied him to the chair. The whole process had taken nearly thirty minutes. Your hands had been all over him, this grown man you had to maneuver while he was unconscious. But that wasn’t about sex. That was just a body. And you’ve had your hands on plenty of bodies. It’s not sexual.

But now…. now you can really admire him. He has a long and muscular neck, a broad chest, and freckle-dotted shoulders with strong muscles that continue down his thick arms. He isn’t very hairy but he does have soft arm hair, a little chest hair, and a trail of hair that starts beneath his belly button and continues down to a large patch around his cock.

His cock. Now you can appreciate what you were feeling on his lap. Why does it look so good? Cocks shouldn’t look this good. It’s fully hard, leaking precum and leaning against his stomach, his balls pulled tight at the bottom. You’re surprised to notice his pubic hair isn’t growing wild, it looks as if it was trimmed but has grown out a bit. His cock is both a little larger and a little thicker than what you know to be average. It’s not the biggest you’ve ever seen but that’s alright. In this context you aren’t looking for something that’s going to destroy you. You need to be able to walk later, you’ll have a body to dispose of.

You look back at his face and his eyes are meeting yours. You wonder if he can see the same hunger in your eyes that you saw in his. He’s smiling again but this time it’s not the same cocky grin as before, this one is genuine and filled with excitement. Your heart is pounding. You feel intoxicated. Is this the thrill of the kill or the sex?

Double ropes make an X across his chest, fastening his torso tight to the back of the chair. His arms and wrists are also bound to the back of the chair, causing his arms to be extended stiff at his sides, hands dangling towards the ground. Another X of the double rope crosses his thighs, attaching him to the seat of the chair, and his ankles are tied to the chair’s front legs.

You consider for one brief moment if untying any part of him would increase your enjoyment but quickly decide that’s not a good idea. Even if you might want his hands on your body, if you find them on your throat, it could all get very messy very quickly.

You give your shoulders a slight shrug and his flannel begins to fall off your shoulders, brushing down your arms as it falls to the ground. Now you stand before him completely bare. You don’t miss the fuuuck he silently mouths. Jesus christ what is this guy doing to you? You swear you just felt your clit twitch.

It is now obvious more than ever the effect he’s having on you, as your unobstructed cunt is so wet that the cool air hitting your thighs makes you realize you are a fucking sopping mess down there. Not wanting to wait any longer, you straddle his thighs again. This time you don’t put your legs on either side but rather rest your legs on top of his. Your feet rest inside of his thighs right under his balls and your ankles and shins lay on top of his thighs. This position is you going give you the best leverage to raise and lower yourself, since you know he can’t help with driving his cock into you.

You can see his arms straining against the ropes. By now he should have learned that they’re too tight for him to move but you think this might just be out of habit. He wants to touch your body, you can tell by the way he moves his head forward - the only thing he can freely move forward - and laps his tongue anywhere he can reach.

You grab his face with one hand and crash your mouth onto his, a mess of teeth and lips and tongues. With your other hand, which is still holding the knife, you carefully use two fingers to tilt his cockhead directly under you and you slowly sink down on it.

You both let out wanton moans into each other’s mouths at the sensation. You continue to press down until he’s seated all the way inside you, and then you pause to let your body adjust. He feels bigger than he looked. Maybe it’s been a while since you’ve been with anyone but this feels borderline painful. You don’t move up and down but rock forward and backwards ever so slightly, giving yourself some more time. He groans a little bit, maybe impatient but you don’t care, and you just smile against his mouth.

You feel your own wetness dripping out of you, down around him, and you feel like you’re ready to go. Pulling your face back from his, you look in each other’s eyes, almost tenderly. You put both hands on top of his shoulders, careful to have a good grip on the knife but not have it too close to his skin. You don’t want to be the one to do anything prematurely in this situation.

You start slowly at first, ignoring the quiet groans coming from him. He’s not whining but he doesn’t sound or look pleased with the pace you’ve set if the pained look on his face is any indication. You continue moving but grab his face to ask you good? The pained look immediately disappears from his face as his eyes snap open. He grunts and mutters a quiet it’s been awhile before he closes his eyes again, trying to focus.

“Don’t you end this early on me,” you warn. It’s a little funny to you when you realize that his punishment for doing that would be death. It shouldn’t be funny but it is. Probably because you’re fucked in the head. He barely reacts and just mutters I won’t between clenched teeth.

Your pace starts to pick up and you alternate between quite literally bouncing up and down on his cock, and grinding forwards and backwards on it. Each time you switch movements he lets out a strangled groan, clenching his eyes tighter. You can feel your orgasm start to build as a little ball of energy deep in your torso.

You picture what it would be like if he could put his hands on you. You take your own hands off his shoulders and run them up and down your thighs, careful to not let the blade hit either of your bodies. You run them across your stomach and up your ribcage, grabbing your breasts, the cold blade of the knife pressed against one of them. You cry out at the sensation and notice he has opened his eyes now and is watching you intently.

You throw your head back, squeezing your breasts, and bring two fingers to pinch each nipple until they’re over-sensitive and stinging. You look back down and watch his face, inches from your breasts, mesmerized. Without warning you shove one of them right into his mouth and he greedily accepts it, tonguing and biting your nipple.

You continue to move on his lap, driving his cock in and out, up and down, filling you up, hitting all the right spots inside of you. Your bodies are sliding against each other, lubricated by the sheen of sweat covering them. The sounds of your skin slapping echoes off the walls. The slurping noises of his mouth are turning you on even more. You can feel your orgasm now just below the surface. You know you’re close.

“I’m gonna come honey,” you moan. Jesus fuckin’ christ you hear him grunt beneath you, mouth still full of your breast.

You push yourself closer to him, pressed up against his chest, his mouth popping off your nipple. You wrap both arms around his neck and pull him tight, rutting hard and deep on his lap. It’s just there, so close. Then he latches his mouth onto your neck just below your jaw, and he sucks.

A white-hot release immediately hits your body, spreading from the core out. It hits you so hard that you actually scream. Your movements stutter and slow as you work through your orgasm, feeling your pussy contracting on his cock.

Seconds later you hear him against your neck, a long and drawn-out moan, as you feel him releasing repeatedly inside of you. You continue gentle rocking motions against him until you feel his cock still. His mouth is still against your neck, breathing heavy breaths in between curses of jesus fuckin’ christ, and holy shit.

You push yourself up off him using the leverage from your shins on his thighs just enough for him to slip out of you, your combined release dripping out onto his lap. You lay your head down on one of his shoulders, gently kissing his neck. At the other shoulder, your arm rests with the knife dragging up and down along where his carotid artery lies.

You sit like that for a while, both of you catching your breaths, getting your bearings back. You are vaguely aware of the mess on his lap you’ll have to clean up later. It’ll have to wait. You think that orgasm made you dizzy. You’re pretty sure your legs will be jell-o for a bit. You haven’t felt like this in a long time. Fucked out and cockdrunk.

He is the first to speak.

“Can I ask you a question?” he says tentatively, “before ya…. ya know.”

“You have a question for me?” you scoff, “I’m flattered,” which is true, even considering what you’ve just done.

“Were ya serious about doin’ this before? The killin’ part?”

“Well yeah, what makes ya think I wasn’t serious?” you lift your head to look him in the eyes just in time to see him roll his.

“Probably the part where ya pretended to be Dexter-” he starts.

“Oh my god I can’t wait till you stop breathin’ so I don’t have to hear about that again. I was just trying to- ya know what? Nevermind,” and you push the blade forward into his neck a little. It’s hard enough to pierce the skin. It draws a couple drops of blood but you’re mostly just teasing him, since you have no desire to clean five liters of blood off the floor of this rented garage. But you can’t help the thrill that shoots into your stomach at the way he clenches in fear.

His body relaxes after a few seconds when he realizes you haven’t pushed the knife in any further. He had clenched his eyes shut, not letting you see the panic in them. Now they flutter open and meet yours, barely able to focus, your faces are so close together.

“My question was somethin’ else,” he mutters, barely audible over the sound of your pounding heartbeat whooshing in your ears. You say nothing, just continue to stare at him wide-eyed, unblinking. “My question was… why. Why do ya do it?”

You are taken aback. Literally and figuratively. You physically pull back from him, resting on your heels back where his knees are. Your hands remain on his shoulders, one still clutching the knife against his neck. Someone is looking for the answer, you think to yourself. It’s almost sweet that he thinks you have it.

“I do it for the same reason you do it.” You scan his face, searching for that smug smile, waiting for deception to play across it, for something. For anything. It doesn’t come. He genuinely doesn’t know. “I do it because it fucking feels good, honey.”

He just keeps your gaze, nodding his head slowly as he takes in your answer. He doesn’t ask anything else or add to your answer. He’s just considering it. You get up off his lap and fold up the knife in your hand, dropping it on the floor on top of the discarded flannel. You walk behind him again and grab the pre-filled syringe you set up. This is the way you like to do things. Clean. Efficient. No stains or smells to deal with later.

You walk up behind him, standing so you are pressed to the back of the chair, his head resting against your bare stomach. You put your hands down on top of his shoulders, the syringe in your dominant hand tapping against his skin. He looks down at it and then tilts his head back to look up at you.

“Why me?” he asks. Not whiny, like most people are. Just a curiosity. Why him? Why did you pick him? Out of everyone in the world, why is it him? It’s almost romantic.

“I thought it’d be fun. I mean, it’s always fun. But I thought it’d be more fun than usual, huntin’ someone like me. Well, almost like me. I’m better at it,” and you tap the syringe against his clavicle a few times, “obviously.”

“Well you weren’t exactly playin’ fair, were ya sweetheart?” he says in an accusing tone.

“How do ya mean?” you ask, your eyes going wide, insulted by the implication. “You knew people would be lookin’ around and askin’ questions, maybe even the police.”

“Yeahhh,” he concedes, “but the police‘re idiots.” He keeps his eyes on you, watching you nod your head in agreement. “I didn’t think I was up against someone like you.” He pauses and then flashes you a cocky grin. “Someone smart.”

“Oh stop, now you’re just tryin’ to flatter me,” and you swat the syringe on his shoulder.

“I’m not,” he says, still smiling.

“Kinda seems like you are, ya ol’ flirt.” and you wink down at him.

“No, what I’m tryin’ ta say is…” and he finally looks away, staring straight ahead before he delivers the next sentence. “I bet you couldn’t do it again.”

“Do what again?” You continue to look down at him but he’s still looking straight forward, not meeting your eyes.

“Catch me.”

Now you’re annoyed. “Honey it really wasn’t that fuckin’ hard the first time. I highly doubt th-”

“But,” he interrupts, “I bet you couldn’t do it again.” His cocky smile is back, head thrown back staring up at you again. “You couldn’t do it now that I know you’re lookin’ fer me.

You push off his shoulders and walk around the front of him. Bending over, you pull his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans laid on the floor. You’re gonna wipe that smug grin off his face once and for all. “Well Joel Miller,” and you read off his home address in Texas, “I really do think I could find you again.”

“Then do it.” His smile is gone. His face is expressionless. He’s just staring at you. “Find me again,” he taunts.

You drop the wallet back to the ground and sit down on his lap, almost considering what he’s saying. You run your hand on the side of his stupid smug little face, syringe still in the other hand. You lean your face to his and gently pepper his face with kisses.

“Honey, I don’t want you sufferin’,” you coo between smooches. “Yer gonna miss me too much if I let you go.”

“How long you think I’d have to suffer?” he counters, “Hmm? How long you think it’d take you?”

“It took me less than a week this time honey. So probably not long,” you continue the kisses down his neck.

“Then come find me,” he growls, stilling your motions. “End my sufferin’.”

You pull back from him. Fuck. The thought of it made you undeniably excited. You were practically vibrating with anticipation and you weren’t even thinking about killing him anymore. This was about a chase. An honest-to-god chase with someone that might be something close to a challenge.

He had a point. You didn’t want to admit that to him, but he didn’t know you were looking for him. He had no idea there was someone like him in the area, whereas you had begun to suspect last summer, and had spent the last year putting pieces together and planning your trip this way.

It did take you less than a week of moving around to different areas of the state land with your van, finding different places to camp, until you ran into him and his filthy little cabin. But you had spent much longer than that reviewing his victims, studying his patterns, and getting yourself into his mindset as best you could.

He has confirmed your suspicions that he moved on after the summer to hunt somewhere else. But where else? Where he lives in Texas? Another off-the-grid cabin? It could be anywhere. It doesn’t matter. You’ll figure it out.

The phone you’ve been threatening him to dial 9-1-1 with is actually his phone. You'd used his fingerprint to gain access while he was out cold and then changed the passcode to something that only you know. You can gather a lot of information on him from his cellphone. That will help and he doesn’t even yet realize you have it.

You already have an upper hand on his little proposition. You’re already outsmarting him.

You press your lips to his one last time and stick the syringe’s small needle into his neck, pressing the plunger halfway down. With open eyes kissing him you see his eyes go wide and then shut. His entire body goes limp under yours, including his lips. His plush lips. You feel his heart still beating strong under your hand so you take the time to indulge, holding his head up and stealing a few more kisses before you have to start cleaning up.

*****

Joel wakes a while later, how long he’s not sure, but the room he’s in looks very different. The van is gone, as is the folding table covered in trophies and photos of his victims, as are you. In fact, very few things remain in the room.

His clothes are folded in a stack on the floor in front of him. Next to them are his wallet and truck keys. Finally, there is a folded note stuck to his leg. It’s pinned to him with your five inch pocket knife having been driven into his thigh.

The restraints around his wrists have been cut so that he can reach forward to take the knife out of his leg. When he does, the note drifts to the floor a few feet away. He ignores the searing pain and blood now streaming from the wound on his leg and manages to work himself free of the rest of the ropes.

He moves to stand up out of the chair and immediately his legs give out, collapsing him unceremoniously onto the floor. He is free of the chair for the first time in - judging by the physical state of him - what has probably been half a day. With shaky hands he reaches out and picks up the paper where it had fallen, unfolding it.

In pretty, looping handwriting it reads: ‘Catch ya later! xoxo’

*****

READ THE NEXT PART HERE (THE CHASE - PART 1)

#joel miller x reader #SerialKiller!Joel x F!Reader #joel miller smut #Serial Killer Joel Miller #joel miller #patti7dc #pedro pascal characters #noxturnalpascal

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redsaurrce · 2 years

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MYSTERY TO ME 1

summary . Wednesday liked mysteries, except... this one. The mystery which was you.

pairing . Wednesday x gn!reader

warning . mentions of blood, murder and kissing

MYSTERY TO ME 2

x--

You stare out of the window of your room to the endless horizon when your eyes dart to the field where Wednesday was shooting perfect arrows with Xavier. You've never known what love feels like, fair enough since every school you went to, you automatically became THE outcast. Love? Surely not something you'd have experienced.

It was bad, really. Bad when you were given judging looks, bad when you were alone in the forest standing in front of a dead body, your nails painted red, painted with the bully's blood.

For the first time that day you felt like you would lose your mind, because since then everytime someone triggered you, you would lose conscience and when you come back to your senses, you have had already killed someone. It was hard to explain, hard to believe even.

So you tried recording yourself while facing just another bully in another school and when you later on watched the camcorder, you saw a beast.. a beast which was you. Red eyes, scary aura and a murderous look.

You found out that your parents tried everything to keep their secret from you thinking that maybe if you never know, you might get out of it soon.

But truth sure comes to light one way or the other.

You thought there was no cure to this, until last night when Wednesday had told you to tag along with her to investigate the Nightshades case. You both were on your way to Xavier's shed where he kept his paintings.. rather scandalous paintings. The night was darker than usual which made you uneasy so you clung to Wednesday causing her to snap her head towards you.

"Dear Wednesday please don't slap away my hands now. It's scary you know." You gulped as you looked at the skies and then at front. Wendesday pursed her lips as she saw your scared face.

"Too bad. I should have brought Bianca instead." She said and looked forwards. You looked at her in disbelief, "Why do I remember someone saying that they even hate to breathe the same air as Bianca?" She kept quite, not because she was speechless but rather.. that was her way of rolling eyes.

"Here we are. If you don't want to come inside, you can stay here." She said as she removed your hands from her arm.

Which unexpectedly made you a little sad. You scoffed, "Isn't going inside safer than staying outside in the wild here?" You commented and walked straight inside as soon as she unlocked the door using her shenanigans until your eyes went wide looking at a monster standing right in front of you with hungry eyes.

In a span of seconds you lost your conscience only to become your beast self again but before you could encounter the monster, Wednesday came from behind attacked it.

You then saw her and the moment you tried to attack her from behind, luckily she escaped away but with a scratch in her forearm. She shouted your name, "_________ wake up! The monster's gone, it was only a painting!"

Slowly your visions became blurry and then turned to clearer. You saw Wednesday and at once ran towards her when you saw blood dripping from her forearm. "I-I'm so sorry Wednesday, I didn't want to hurt you at all." Your eyes became teary, why in the world would you attack her?

She sighed lightly, "It's just a scratch. Don't give me that look."

"I'm really sorry I didn't want to do that at all.." Your breathing became faster, "First aid.. does Xavier keep a first aid box here?" You started searching everywhere frantically but halted at once when Wednesday said, "Wait." She cocked her eyebrows, "How do you know it was you who attacked me and not the monster? As far as I know.. and if you've been honest with me, you said that you know nothing when you switch on your beast mode?"

You looked at her and then looked away to think about the same, "Wednesday I've never once lied to you.. but, ah.." You shut your eyes close as you tried to recall what happened moments ago.

"But what?" For Wednesday this looked just another mystery that increased her curiosity. Even though she liked mysteries and puzzles but this one... she's feeling different about this one.

She's feeling something else, a feeling of a parent looking at their child ride the bike for the first time. A feeling of concern. She has never felt liked this ever before, you were making her feel them.

"But I suddenly remember my name being called out! it felt like a wake up call, it felt like someone just woke me up from sleep and in my blurred vision I saw your terrified face, it was a face that a victim would make in front of the attacker, not a friend." You said and then looked straight into her eyes, "Which also brings me to the question, why didn't you counter-attack me? I clearly had harmed you."

The question felt like a dagger into Wednesday's chest, unexpectedly ofcourse, it wasn't like she had any feelings for you that your thought of her attacking you would hurt her.. right?

She looked away, "Then we clearly would have had to keep on fighting and that would waste my time. Speaking of which, we should go now."

When you looked outside the window, the words of Wednesday stormed your head, "She was lying, she's not the type to take blows." You murmured.

You rested your chin on the bedside, "Would things get better if I move again, I don't want to see the face Wednesday made yesterday ever again." A teardrop rolled down your cheeks.

Your parents were ridiculously rich which might explain the fact of you getting away with all sorts of murders you had committed so far. If you were to request your mother to move you again, they'd do it in a heartbeat.

"That's right, I should just leave. Wednesday deserves better friends." You said to yourself and curled yourself up in a blanket in a corner.

---

"What are you doing here Enid?" Wednesday looked through her dark long lashes at the ever so energetic and cheerful girl in front of her. "Well the thing is that ___________ texted me and said that she/he can't make it."

"Why?" She asked with her darkening gaze. "Stomach ache I was told." Enid answered. Wednesday frowned because there it was, the feeling she felt last day, she was feeling concerned.

"I see. Then let us go." She said.

After two or so hours of texting Enid requesting her to go with Wednesday in place of you, you were getting restless already. "They must be having fun going on with the investigation, well at least Enid won't harm her." You sighed deeply when you jolted up at the sudden knock on the door.

"_____________, are you inside?" That was Wednesday's voice. And even before you could think, your body reacted quickly and you opened the door immediately.

"I thought you were having stomachache.. the door opened faster."

You nervously chuckled, "Oh well, I'm better now so.. yeah. What are you here for though? How did your investigation go?" You asked while eyeing the packet in her hand.

"We didn't go to investigate. We were at the infirmary. Here take the medicine." She forwarded the packet.

You were surprised to say the least but then you contorted your eyebrows, "Two hours at the infirmary?"

She looked at you with an expression you couldn't quite tell what it meant. "You kept the track of the time?"

You stuttered, "Uh-uh yeah sort of, I had nothing to do any wa--"

Before you could finish, she spoke, "The thing is I was waiting for you but instead Enid came approximately ten minutes ago and apologized for being late because she was on date with Ajax."

You gulped, did she kept waiting that long? She could've texted- oh right, she refuses to be the slave of technology.

"Uhm.. I'm sorry." You had nothing except to apologize to her, which.. felt so shitty because since yesterday you only felt sorry towards her. And maybe a little bit of something else which you weren't sure of. It was happening to you for the first time afterall.

"Oh I'm so sorry again, you've been at my door since the starting, please come inside." You said and turned around to let her in when she grabbed your wrist. "I hate it everytime you say sorry to me. Can you please stop doing that?" You weren't sure what to say because a train of emotions just hit you, with her doing something unexpected, to her saying something unexpected.

You shook your head, "About that I'm sor- I mean I'll be careful about it."

She then looked down at the place where she had held your wrist and you too shifted your focus to that, all you wanted was to grab her hands back but at that very instant she let go off it causing you to feel a sting in your heart.

She looked up and then noticed how empty your room looked like, earlier when she had come to your room she didn't like how much stuffy your room looked like, filled with all sorts of stuffs and posters, but now, it just seemed so much emptier.

Then she spotted cardboard boxes and trunks. "What's all this? Are you moving to another room or decided to sell things on thrift shop?" She asked you while looking around.

You smiled dryly, "None. I'm just going to change schools."

She shifted her focus from your photoframe that you decided to pack later, to you at once. "Why?" She asked you, even though she tried to hide her surprise, you could sense that from the tone of her voice.

"I don't know... I just don't want to hurt anyone." You shrugged. She walked towards you and stopped once your faces were mere inches away, "Whom did you hurt? Weems?"

You chuckled, "Ugh no!" Then you seized your chuckle with a subtle but sad smile, "You." You gulped.

Wednesday liked the way you chuckled, it made her want to make that expression too. About your answer, she didn't like that.

"Then where are you planning to go?" She asked you.

"Why? Are you planning to send me letters?" You said jokingly.

"No, you said that you don't want to hurt anyone, then.. will you shifting to another school solve your problems? Will you stop killing people?"

Your blinked as you looked away. "Only if it was under my control."

"That's right. And I am sure you were sent here just to do that. To gain control over your powers. Your parents made the right decision ________, don't go." She said.

You sighed, even though you wanted to put meaning behind her 'don't go' , you knew she was saying it just for the sake of it. "I'm not saying just because I have to ______________. " You frowned, "Does your psychic abilities gives you access to people's thoughts too? And don't you try to talk me out of it when you call your own parents evil people trying to pull your strings from afar. Remember?"

She looked at you amusingly, "It's not my psychic abilities, just that your face is like an open book so easy to read. About the second part, I have no comment."

"I am not easy to read Wednesday, it's just that you know me better than everyone else."

"What?"

"What?" Oh shoot! Did you just confess like that? You cleared your throat, "Uh- uh I mean, you are good at reading people's faces. That's what I'm saying. You managed to figure out what I'm thinking when it's really hard for others to do so."

"I.. am.. not good at reading people's faces ____________." She said slowly and firmly.

"What?"You blinked.

"People call me emotionless apparently because I am not good at reading room. They throw a fit when I don't seem to get what they want to say through their expressions. I had a tough time staying close to people, that is why I prefer solitude." She answered with a stoic expression.

"I see.. but you seemed to do well in my case?" You said with a half smile.

"Which is weird.. I know, but do you know what is weirder?" She asked while folding her arms.

"What?"

"You figuring out me. I don't remember anyone understanding me as much as you do since I lack emotions." She looked down for a split second, "You bother me."

You got confused, "... like in a good way?"

She started walking towards you with steps that felt like they would leave a mark on the floor, you stumbled back and sat down on the bed while she kept decreasing the distance in front of you. "Can you read me now?" You said with a shaky voice as your breathing became faster.

She leaned closer and closer, "Yes. Do you think I want the same thing as you do?" You felt so enchanted and dazed when you looked at her lips which resembled the dark shadows lurking in the forest that night. "Yes.. I guess?" You weren't sure what you were saying but if it was an invitation for a kiss, then yes, i guess?

"You're right." And those were the words you heard before you felt her soft lips against yours. You grabbed her nape to come closer for a deeper kiss. It was so slow yet it felt electrifying, it defied Wednesday's knowledge of electricity for sure.

At that moment you felt nothing but staying beside Wednesday forever and maybe.. maybe you now have an answer as to why you returned to yourself that night when Wednesday called out to you.

Maybe Wednesday was the last piece to your puzzle, maybe she was the answer to your question and you were more than willing to search for answers with her by your side.

Because to Wednesday too, you were another mystery that intrigued her.. in a good way.

"Don't go." She breathed as you both parted for air.

"I won't." You said and tilted your head to kiss her again. You felt her smile on your lips.

Which was rare and you were in for it.

--x

This was my first Wednesday work AAHHHH how was it T_T tysm for reading luvs <;33

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday addams x fem!reader #wednesday addams #wednesday #wednesday addams x you #wednesdayedit #imagine #fanfic #fluff #angst #wednesday addams fanfic #jenna ortega #wednesday x reader

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lw77 · 1 day

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Diet Pepsi 💈 (LSxMV)

Chapter 4. - Good?

A boat, a swim, a party and heat. All in that order.

🧴 It may help to read Chapter 3- Sunburn before this! 🧴

“Hmmm, more sunscreen, baby?” Max asks in an oblivious tone that only makes Logan more frustrated, especially as he's drowning in this heady arousal.

Whining his displeasure into Max’s neck, Logan tries to rock his hips back for some friction, but Max’s chuckle vibrates through him, teasing. “C’mon, Maxie, please,” Logan pleads.

In response, Max cups Logan’s thighs, gently closing them from their wide, debauched display. He shifts Logan to lie sideways across his lap, moving him down his chest. Logan rests his arms on Max’s chest, looking up with glassy, pleading eyes. Max gazes down at him, smoothing a hand through Logan’s hair. “You’ll have to behave, Angel. Everyone’s coming back now. You can be good for me, right?”

Logan gulps for air, trying to nod and clear his head, but his tongue feels too heavy in his mouth. “Y-yeah, I can be good.”

With his head a little clearer, Logan hears the jet skis in the distance. Panic tenses his body against Max’s chest. “What’s wrong, Angel?” Max asks, his lips brushing Logan’s temple.

Logan’s eyes flick up to Max’s before dropping down. “Th-they’re gonna know,” he mumbles.

Max chuckles. “It’s okay. We’ll go in the water before they board, Angel. Let’s go.” He stands, pulling Logan up with him.

Logan’s legs buckle, but Max’s steady hands hold him upright.

Max was right; Logan can see the dots of the boys growing closer, their hoots and hollers getting louder.

“Ready?” Max asks.

Logan nods. “Yeah, I’ll just slip in this time.”

Max dives into the water before swimming back closer to where Logan is dangling his legs. With a playful grin, Max grabs Logan’s legs, prompting a surprised yelp as he pulls him in. Logan sputters as the water washes over him. “That was mean, Maxie,” he protests.

But Max grins cheekily, guiding Logan to wrap his arms and legs around him, tilting his head in question. “Better?”

Logan tightens his arms, contemplating dramatically before replying, “No.” His ploy is obvious as he snuggles into Max, resting his head on his shoulder while gazing at the horizon behind them.

The boys finally come back, whistling at their close display. His own best friends give him knowing looks over their sunglasses as they board.

But he and Max just stay close, Max’s body a warm presence in the cool water. At some point, Logan lets his arms unwind from Max’s neck and relaxes back in the water, with only his legs acting as an anchor. Max’s hand centres him on his lower spine while the other leisurely treads the water.

On deck, leaning over the railing, Logan's two best friends stand. Oscar is taking a picture of the couple while Alex cups his mouth to shout, “Guys, there are otters in the water!” This makes some of the guys rush to the rail to see. Danny is the first to comment, “Those are quite big, mate! Good eye!” Finally, Carlos places a hand on Oscar’s shoulder and shouts, his Spanish accent thick as he teases, “You know otters mate for life!”

Still reclined in the water, Logan yells back, “I’m calling PETA or Greenpeace on you all.” He hears Max laugh and looks toward him, squinting against the sun, offering a smile. Using the same hand on Logan’s lower back, Max pulls him close and upright, and Logan wraps his arms around Max’s shoulders.

Logan leans back to look into Max’s eyes, curious. “Were you being serious earlier when you said that?”

Leisurely treading water to keep them both afloat, Max replies, “You’re going to have to be a bit more specific, Angel.”

“Back at the—uh, when we were inside? You said you wanted me for a while,” Logan says, looking away shyly.

“Can you blame me? I’ve been thinking about you since the first time I saw you at your dad’s store—all red cheeks and bright eyes.”

Logan gulps at Max’s easy admission. “Okay, good,” he says, meeting Max’s gaze again.

“Ready to go back up, Angel?”

“Yeah, thanks for hiding me, Maxie,” Logan replies softly, burying his face in Max’s neck as he remembers his earlier situation.

As they climb onto the deck, Max hands Logan a towel before pulling him into his lap as they sit with the others, ready to head back.

“So, little Logan, did you have a good nap? Feeling energised to party tonight?” Charles asks teasingly. Unknowingly, his words make Logan blush as he remembers what followed his nap, feeling Max’s chest move in quiet laughter. Logan chokes out an unconvincing, “Y-yeah.”

Max’s silent laughter and Logan’s flustered state make Charles pause, along with the others. Then Charles smiles wide, clapping his hands together as he laughs, “I think some of us lost our money, boys!”

Logan squeaks out, “No! Nothing happened,” at their insinuation, knowing full well about the bet. He buries his face in his hands before burrowing back deeper into Max, eyes big and pleading. “Maxie, tell them!”

“Angel’s right, nothing happened; he’s been good,” Max replies calmly, his eyes sparkling with something as he smiles down at Logan. Heat runs down Logan’s spine at the memory of Max’s earlier instruction to be good for him. Max’s hand soothes him as he gently smooths the back of Logan’s neck, making him relax against him once more.

He feels someone pat his knee. Looking down, Logan sees it’s Alex. “I knew Princess wouldn’t let me down. Thank you, Logie Bear.” Alex’s hand is splayed over his heart like he’s been touched.

“You guys are awful. I’m going home!” Logan says brattily.

“With Max Emmilian?” Charles excitedly clamours, making Logan groan as he buries his head further in his hands. He can’t win this one.

___________________

When they dock back at the house, Max nudges Logan gently. “You go ahead, Angel. I need to help bring some of the stuff in.” He presses a kiss to the back of Logan’s neck before standing and helping Logan to his feet as well.

“Okay,see you.” Eager to avoid any heavy lifting, Logan hurries off in search of Oscar to head inside together.

He finds Oscar easily enough, sliding up beside him with ease. “So, C-Captain ?” Logan teases, imitating Oscar’s earlier reaction. Oscar promptly shoves him hard enough to make him teeter dangerously off the dock.

“Hey!” Logan exclaims, barely managing to steady himself before falling. “Okay, okay, I won’t tease! But come on, Osc—spill! Don’t think I didn’t notice you were gone. Were you helping George ‘man the helm’?” He lowers his voice into a sultry tone.

Logan watches a flush rise on his friend’s cheeks. “Oh my god, did you!”

“No!” Oscar groans. “We just talked, Logan. I think he’s straight.”

“Maybe, but we’ll see tonight. Besides Captain My Captain, did anyone else catch your eye?” Logan prompts, nudging him.

Oscar glances at him nervously. “Uh, yeah... um, Carlos?”

“I see it.” Logan nods, picturing his best friend with the tall, dark Spaniard. “But don’t be too quick to cross anyone off just because you think they’re straight. Who knows? You might end up with both in your bed tonight. Now wouldn’t that be a treat, Mr. Born-Again Virgin?” Logan says optimistically.

“Maybe,” Oscar replies, still looking a little too sulky for a man with options.

Used to Oscar’s dramatics, Logan rolls his eyes and pushes him toward one of the bedrooms. “Come on, let’s get changed. I brought an extra pair of my ‘fuck-me’ jeans just for you because I support your pillow-princess agenda.”

“I brought my own outfit,” Oscar grumbles.

“Yeah, you dress like a Sean-Cody reject, Osc. It looks good on some, but it’s not going to help your plans tonight,” Logan says matter-of-factly.

He tosses a pair of light-wash jeans and a black tee into Oscar’s hands, then turns to put on his own dry clothes. When he’s finished, he sees that Oscar is ready too. The black tee emphasises the taper of his torso, and both their jeans sit low on their hips, tight enough to show a hint of skin with every movement.

Logan raises an eyebrow. “See? Your waist looks tiny, Osc. I bet both Carlos and George won’t be able to stop themselves.”

Oscar crosses his arms, unintentionally drawing attention to his defined pecs. “Fine, but don’t make it too obvious, please. I’ll do my... thing.”

Logan pokes Oscar’s puffed-up chest. “Sure, just stand like this. I’m pretty sure they won’t be able to resist.”

“Thanks, Log,” Oscar says with a playful smack to Logan’s hand before grabbing it and pulling them both toward the living room, where everyone is already gathered.

There’s music playing at a low volume, and a few are are sprawled on the couch, relaxing or chatting. Danny’s cheery voice rings out from the deck as he makes his way in, arms full with two cases of coolers and beers. Max, Carlos, and Charles follow behind him, each carrying their own assortment of drinks.

Logan turns to Oscar, eyebrow raised. “He said this was going to be a small party. Are there more people coming?”

Oscar’s brows furrow at the sight. “It’s like a Freshies’ wet dream.”

“What’s a Freshie’s wet dream?” Alex asks, slinging an arm around both of them.

“The drinks, Alex. That’s not all for us, right?” Oscar explains, still trying to wrap his head around the overwhelming amount and variety laid out before them.

“I know right, but I overheard George say it’s less than what they usually have, so yeah?” Alex replies, a grin creeping onto his face.

People begin to gather around the drinks, excited to kick off the night. Logan exchanges a look with Oscar, a mix of amusement and excitement in their expressions.

“Come on, Alex, celebratory shots are in order!” Logan says excitedly. Oscar, with a serious tone, adds, “Yes, time to get you drunk, Alboner.”

Together, they pull him toward the bar, laughter bubbling between them. Alex stumbles slightly, pretending to dig his heels as they lead him through the house.

“Have mercy, you twinks! Remember who’s throwing this party—who knows how many shots he’ll make me do?” Alex protests, though a grin tugs at the corners of his mouth.

Charles is manning the bar and greets the three sweetly, pouring them all a generous shot of tequila. As soon as they finish, they spot a fruity concoction waiting for them, accompanied by a devious smile from Charles as he gestures for them to take it. “Go ahead, boys. This is special since it’s your first time with us!”

Looking from the drink to Charles’s smile, the trio isn’t sure whether to feel appreciative or terrified.

Before they can think any more about it, George joins them. “You guys should drink soon. If Danny sees you, he’s going to add ‘a shot’ to each of yours.”

Charles offers a nonchalant shrug.

It’s Alex who shoots them a worried look. “I’m guessing this shot is actually a bottle?”

George claps him on the back. “Got it in one, Albono.”

“Okay, cheers then, boys,” Oscar says, picking up his drink. The other two follow suit, clinking their glasses together as they cheer.

____________________

Logan hasn’t seen Max since the trio wandered away from the bar, and that was three drinks ago. He’s pleasantly pliant, feeling loose from the back-to-back shots.

The three are squished on a loveseat, with Logan on Alex’s side. Oscar, already tipsy, is sprawled over Alex’s lap, his back resting comfortably against him.

“Already time for homie cuddles, Osc?” Alex teases.

“Shut up, Alboner,” Oscar replies, smacking the back of his head against Alex’s chest.

“Where’s Max, Log? Did he leave?” Oscar asks, looking at Logan with confusion.

Before Logan can voice his own confusion, they hear laughter as Danny, Max, and the others from the bar filter into the living room.

“Alright, fuckers, time for some middle school fun!” Danny shouts, brandishing an empty Moët bottle.

"Oh god,” Logan says at the same time as Alex exclaims, “Oh good.”

They look at each other and laugh, prompting Oscar to shout, “Jinx! One of you owes me a soda, but I’ll accept another drink in its place!”

“Water,” both Logan and Alex say simultaneously, which makes Oscar shout another “Jinx!” as he shoots upright from his sprawled position, excitedly smacking Alex’s shoulder.

Seeing everyone make their way to the circle forming on the floor, Logan gets up while Alex manages a clingy Oscar.

“But I’m comfortable, Alex,” Oscar whines, only conceding when Alex lets him slump down onto the floor beside him. Only for him to crawl back onto his lap after flashing him a pleading look. Snuggling back against Alex, Oscar sighs contentedly, “Perfect.”

Used to Oscar’s drunk antics, Logan scans the room for Max when he notices George and Carlos exchanging raised eyebrows at the sight of Alex and Oscar. He feels a hand brush against the back of his head and looks up to see Max looking down at him, a drink in hand.

Logan sees Max’s eyes flicker to Oscar and Alex, who is wiggling around in Alex’s lap. “Stop moving, Osc, Jesus,” Alex says, finally holding him down by the hips. This only makes Oscar giggle as he throws his head back with a mischievous smile. Max then glances over at Carlos and George, and as Logan follows his gaze, he catches a flash of heat in both their eyes before it disappears.

Looking back at Logan, Max grins at their discovery. He then nods and motions to where he’ll be sitting—right across from Logan.

Danny claps his hands from his seat at the top of the circle, ready to take on the role of game master as he announces that they’ll be playing Truth or Dare.

__________________

A few rounds pass, and thankfully neither he nor Max are called upon. The bottle finally stops on Alex and, by default, Oscar, spun by Charles, who glances at Danny for guidance.

"Alright, since the bottle's pointing at either Oscar or Alex, dealer's choice, Charles," Danny says, amusement lighting up his eyes.

"Works for me," Charles says with a casual shrug. "So, Oscar, truth or dare?"

Oscar, now a bit more settled against Alex after being held down earlier, lifts his head and blinks, puffing his cheeks in thought before exclaiming, "Dare."

A devious smile spreads across Charles' face as he pretends to think for a moment. "Okay, I dare you to make out with Alex," he says, checking his watch. "For at least 60 seconds—could be more, chéri , up to you!" His excitement is barely concealed.

Leaning back against Alex’s chest, Oscar easily pulls Alex’s face toward him, a gesture that shows it’s not their first time. As Alex kisses back, Oscar begins moving against him again, making Alex’s hands on his hips tighten. One of Alex's hands slides to Oscar’s front, pressing against his stomach to still him.

Oscar whines into the kiss, his hand covering Alex’s as he arches into him even more. At being restrained, Oscar begins pleading softly, murmuring "please," "more," and "’Lex," while Alex tries to soothe him with gentle kisses. Finally, Alex deepens the kiss in the way he knows Oscar craves, and Oscar, at last, settles as he receives it. Now making small sounds of appreciation, Oscar’s hand travels from Alex’s face to his hair, gripping the strands to keep him close.

The scene between them is so erotic that even Charles’ earlier devious smile fades into one of confused arousal. When Oscar finally pulls away, gasping for breath, both he and Alex are left breathing heavily against each other, Oscar’s soft gasps suddenly loud in the room that had once been filled with noise.

As the two lean in for more, Logan glances around the room and notices the heated stares from both Carlos and George. He wonders whether their intense gazes are directed solely at Oscar or at Alex as well.

Looking beside them at Max, Logan sees him reclining on his hands, raising an amused eyebrow in response. As Oscar’s desperate noises grow louder, his pleas to Alex rise again, a muffled, “Make me feel good, please,” echoing through the room, accompanied by aborted rolls of his hips against Alex’s restraining hands.

It’s Danny who finally claps his hands, signalling the end of the dare to the two and the rest of the room. The sound startles the group back to awareness, and Alex gently pulls away from Oscar, nuzzling into his neck before loosening his hold with a final peck on the cheek.

Oscar, still curled against Alex, hiccups for breath as he slumps into Alex’s chest, wiggling to get comfortable again—only to stop when Alex playfully swats his thigh.

Oscar then looks over at Charles, his lips puffy and slick, eyes glassy with arousal, and a sweet blush dusting his cheeks. With an innocent, “Good?” he asks.

“Ye-yeah! Very good, chéri , I didn’t see that coming,” Charles responds, stuttering slightly in his admission. Oscar, smiling cutely, picks up the bottle and spins it, ready to continue the game after his little performance.

💈 Previous Parts of the Series 💈

Chapter 1 - Angel

Chapter 2 - Hunter?

Chapter 3- Sunburn

Let me know what you think 💋

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fearandhatred · 28 days

Text

falling like the stars by crowleys-bentley-and-plants, fearandhatred

the extended constellation poem here!!

The Starmaker wore the freckles on his face without shame, each and every one of them representing all the stars he had ever created, all the fragments of grace he had put into them—that was before the fall. Millennia later, Aziraphale maps his own stars on Crowley's skin in the form of angel kisses.

individual sections below for easier reading and ✨️details✨️. the full unformatted text is under the cut, the clearer version + text is on ao3! any and all support appreciated <3

soooo... my beloved @crowleys-bentley-and-plants and i were on the topic of calligrams and we got carried away as usual. many, many, many ideas stacked on top of each other later, we ended up with this half-fic half-poem calligram artwork piece...? we are the absolute masters of "what if" statements tbh. love u bestie we are the unstoppable force that meets the immovable object (the definition of a poem)

text below the cut!

they all left marks, dotted warm and feather-light on my skin; that was the first i'd known of gentleness. the very first star swelled all-consuming in my palms, fiery and bright, twinkling with laughter. that's when i felt that first heat, and when i looked, there it was: a singular freckle stamped over my heart.

they all left marks, when i created star after star after star, on the hands i used to mould them into shape; on my collarbones where i pressed them into me; on my cheeks that i bore exposed to their splendour. and when i exploded the universe into being, the stars burned through all that i was, and i was.

they all left marks; they were mine and i theirs, and i was as much of them as i was myself. this must be love, i thought, cosmic and selfless, agape and divine. and if everything else were ever stripped away from me, i thought, i could still cling to the evidence that i had created something, that i was a part of something, that i was something.

they all left marks, and i knew them completely, like the back of my hand, like the constellations of my skin, and as i knew them completely, so also had i thought that i would have them completely.

but then i fell away

from them

and

they

were

gone.

He hadn't realised it then, in the seconds or centuries after his fall. It had been a while before the earth and before nights, before he was allowed to drag himself out of the fire and into the throes of humanity. All he'd known was that his freckles were gone, the only proof of his creations he could have had in Hell, where steel walls and a whole world separated him from the skies, and thus from himself.

So Eden was good, where his serpentine form meant that he wouldn't have to look at his skin, smooth and newly unmarred in its taintedness, in his failures. And he had a purpose. Not an deed of selflessness or love or pride, but a purpose nonetheless, where before he had none, and was nothing. And it was good.

Then came the first night.

He would have thought that the stars were just too far away for him to recognise them, looking up at them now, but no. He recognised them all—and none of them were his. There were the pre-aged stars, scattered around haphazardly by the more senior angels; newly formed ones birthed from other star factories; none of his.

He would have thought that the burning away of the marks from his skin when he'd fallen—searing and gaping bare like cavities—meant nothing, if it wasn't for the little bits of grace he remembered offering up to his stars when he'd made them. If it wasn't for the evidence above him now that when he'd fallen from grace, his stars had, too.

The thing about giving is that there's always someone else who gains. But sometimes when you lose, others lose just the same. You give too much, the sky told him. You lose too much. And then it turned away from him.

Stars as they are commonly known are full of light, powerful and giving; that's how he'd made them, and that's how he loved them. It was the kind of overpowering love you felt helpless in the face of, and he'd thought that was just how love always was. But then there was God, and after God; his stars and their deaths. It was only then that he realised that there was such a thing as too much: too much love, aggressive and selfish, blinding and devouring.

He was a star that trapped light, that swallowed darkness, that wrenched all he loved into himself, consuming, destroying, until he himself collapsed under the weight of his own gravity. Until he blew apart and brought everything else down with him. There was no saving him from himself, not unless one wanted to play a losing game. No light escapes a black hole, and nothing comes near it and leaves unscathed.

That's how it was. That's how it always would be.

. . .

The park, too, is how it always has been, even years later. The same expanse of lake, the night wind blowing soft ripples on the surface; the same pavements marked with a million footsteps; the same worn benches that Crowley sits on, with Aziraphale next to him.

There's a silent peace between them now that they're free from their respective sides, a security of being. But Crowley isn't… settled. All these years, he's carried himself as an amalgamation of parts with pieces missing, pieces that were destroyed and could never be replaced. When he rests, his parts fall against each other in jagged edges and loose fits, waiting for the inevitable collapse.

And although he holds onto that peace, to Aziraphale's presence, they can't be stuffed into and mend the cracks. All they can do is keep him upright. There's a breeze on his face, the sky painted a shade of deep blue, freckled with stars visible and unseen, young and long dead. He sits on the park bench, Aziraphale next to him, an angel and a broken man looking up at the stars.

I love you, Aziraphale says, easy as anything. Crowley loves him too. How could he not?

Are you sure? he asks.

Why wouldn't I be?

There's nothing left of me to love, he says, as a statement of fact. All I am is loss.

You haven't lost me, Aziraphale replies.

Did you know that black holes are invisible? They don't reflect light, or emit it. It's like trying to see in the darkest cave. There's nothing there. Crowley tilts his head up to the sky, where the only things they can see are stars. You can only tell where black holes are because of everything around them that they ruin.

He draws his knees to himself, and imagines sucking in all his stars, powerless to stop himself from annihilation. He imagines that the stars are Aziraphale.

Then he feels Aziraphale's fingers on his chin, gently turning his face towards him. I see you, Aziraphale says. I see you, and I love you.

That's how it always starts. And it always ends the same way.

It doesn't have to, this time.

It's not a choice I make, Crowley tells him, to ruin things. It just happens, over and over. It's only a matter of time.

Then I will gladly take all the time you give me, Aziraphale says quietly. Crowley looks away.

Aziraphale leans over and presses a soft kiss to his cheek, tender and aching. As he pulls away, Crowley gasps at the sensation, and there on his cheek is a singular, twinkling freckle.

it would be easier had i not know you then, the angel you were in both body and soul, creator and mirror of the universe.

for years i shouldered the burden of witness to the spattering of stars across your face as they burst into being. you called them gorgeous, i remember, and though i agreed i was looking only at you. but i knew even then that you and your stars were one and the same, and so i saw that you were gorgeous, and it was enough.

it would be easier had i not seen you then, but it is not an ease i want to bear: to have known you then is to know you completely now. and to know you completely is to love you completely. in your face then i saw all of creation as it had been; in your face now i see all that can be created.

i know there are marks on you, the type that are permanent, that rub you raw and leave you gasping. i know that all the marks you carry with you now are marks that you wish you never had, and that the marks you long for are long gone. i know that nothing i do could give them back to you, that some feelings, once lost, are lost forever.

but i can only hope that i can give you something new, a feeling that does not replace but understands. i can only hope that you consume me completely, draw me into you, and that when i stay, and stay, and stay, you realise that the strength of your love could never be a bad thing.

i can only hope that i can trace the streaks of light across your skin, kiss new constellations onto your cheeks, and that it would be enough.

#fearandhatred #fearandfics #fearandpoetry #the quality is SO BAD I HATE TUMBLR #good omens #good omens season 2 #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #crowley #aziraphale #good omens fanfiction #good omens fanfic #good omens fic #good omens fic rec #good omens fanart

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ryoko-san · 6 months

Text

Fortified by age-old condolences

Drawings of the northern lights

God, give us clearer skies

Me drawing redacted characters as Ghost and Pals songs again heehehehh

#redacted asmr #redacted fanart #redacted audio #redacted balance #redacted brachium #art #redacted art #the song is Aura :>#this is probably the fun-est thing i drew #colors and all #EveArt

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littlethingsinlife · 2 years

Text

Happier

A/N: I had this idea while I was listening to some music and I guess I was feeling some type of way. P.s. I couldn’t find a clearer picture (rn my source of pics is pinterest lol). A little bit of a warning, I’m INCREDIBLY rusty when it comes to writing as I haven’t done it in awhile. This songfic is inspired by Olivia Rodrigo’s “happier” but it doesn’t really follow the lyrics word for word. Anyway I’m really hoping that it’s not hard to read. I hope you enjoy~

Pairing(s): Lo’ak x Tsireya, Past Lo’ak x Omaticayan!Reader

Warning(s): None :DD Except for the writer is REALLY rusty when it comes to writing fanfic. The formatting might be a little wonky cause I copied and pasted from google doc.

Word Count: 4,990

More Info: The same old trope where the reader is orphaned and was taken in by the Sully’s which is why there were no questions asked she’s coming with. Also the storyline is not really in chronological order with what happened in the actual movie. There will be scenes pulled from the movie but placed where I think it would fit the best :’D

Summary: Traveling with the Sully’s to Awa’atlu was supposed to bring comfort and dissipate the fears of losing your loved one, not break your heart in two.

Part 2: i’m sorry

Key:

(Y/N) = Your Name

Lyrics = Bolded Italics

Flashbacks = Italics

Na’vi Words:

Yimkxa - Banshee Catcher

Txe’lan - Heart

Uturu - Tradition of granting refugees sanctuary

Marui - Pods where the clan live

Tsaheylu - Bond

Olo’eyktan - Clan leader

Tsahik - Spiritual leader

Skxawng - Idiot

We broke up a month ago

Your friends are mine, you know, I know

You’ve moved on, found someone new

One more girl who brings out the better in you

We arrived in Awa’atlu a month ago. When I think about it, it pains me a great deal to have left all that I knew behind, but it would’ve killed me if they left without me, if he was no longer there, even if the forest will forever be my home it would’ve felt desolate without him and the light he would bring along with him. Oh how foolish I was to think that them leaving would be the only thing to tear my heart in two.

The night before Tarsem became the new Olo’eyktan and the Sully’s and I would begin our journey for uturu, I cried, cried in the arms of my best friend and my first love as fears and uncertainty overwhelmed me.

“I-I am afraid, what if the sky people come to find us again? I cannot lose any of you; it would break me into a million pieces,” I sobbed.

“If they find us then we will fight and we will win,” Lo’ak declared as he softly rocked me back and forth in his arms.

“You are an idiot, I was so close to losing you, to losing Kiri, Tuk, how do you think it would make me feel to lose the most important people in my life?” I sniffled.

“(Y/N), sweet girl, you will not lose us, we will always be there for you. Do not worry your pretty head over such things, I promise that I will be with you all throughout the journey as will my family. We love you, and even if you do not believe it, you are a Sully. And you know what my dad always says.”

“Sullys stick together,” we chorused.

That night, he stayed cradling me in his arms until I fell asleep, whispering comforting words and giving occasional kisses to the top of my head.

The entire journey was rough. Days seemed to blend together as we flew through the skies on our ikran. We were all quiet at the beginning as we mourned the loss of our home. But by the end of it all Kiri, Lo’ak and I found ways to entertain ourselves by telling jokes and playing a game called “I spy” that Jake taught us when he got tired of the three of us bumping ikran with one another. As we approached the village, a horn was blown to announce our arrival to the village. One by one, we all landed and dismounted our ikran.

Jake stepped forwards with his hands in the air as a means to show we came in peace. As a large group of Metkayina surrounded us, I instinctively stepped closer to Lo’ak and Neteyam. Looking around, I could see the differences between us, our skin was darker, tails much skinnier, and their eyes were much larger. My tail whipped excitedly as I looked around, but before I was able to tell Lo’ak about any of my observations, two boys around our age started to walk towards us. Out of respect, Lo’ak, Neteyam and I greeted them properly. The teenage boys, however, turned a blind eye and began to make fun of our physical appearances.

“Is that supposed to be a tail?” The short one laughed.

My eyes narrowed as I followed their movement and was ready to hiss, hackles raised, when Neteyam put a hand on my shoulder and quickly shook his head. Hesitantly my tail fell at the silent order.

“Why are you so quiet? Lo’a-” I whispered as I turned around to see Lo’ak staring wide-eyed. “What’re you staring at?” I mumbled as I followed his gaze.

A beautiful Metkayina girl walked out of the water towards us. As she got closer, Lo’ak let out a meek hello and was rewarded with a shy giggle while an unknown ache in my chest consumed me.

And I thought my heart was detached

From all the sunlight of our past

But she’s so sweet, she’s so pretty

Does she mean you forgot about me?

Her name was Tsireya, the daughter of Olo’eyktan and Tsahik. Her brother Ao’nung and her are meant to teach us their clan's ways so we are not burdened by being “useless.” Our first lesson was to learn how to breathe properly.

So there we all were, sitting in a circle while Rotxo, Ao’nung’s friend, and Tsireya tried to teach us to breathe from our stomachs not our lungs as it didn’t supply us enough air to dive deep enough. I sat between Neteyam and Lo’ak while Kiri was across from me.

My eyes were closed as I tried to focus, ears twitching as Lo’ak playfully swatted my back with his tail. A small smile found its way onto my face as my tail lightly swatted him back.

“Lo’ak you are not breathing properly. Let me show you,” Tsireya scolded. Slowly my smile dropped and I opened my eyes to Tsireya putting her hand over Lo’ak’s heart and stomach.“Your heartbeat is fast. Try to focus,” Tsireya advised, demonstrating how slow we should be breathing herself.

“Right, sorry,” Lo’ak apologized.

I could faintly hear Neteyam and Rotxo unsuccessfully try to hold back a laugh as I closed my eyes to try to calm my mind and heart from breaking further. Unbeknownst me, a pair of eyes full of pity were on me the entire time, seeing my ears flatten and my demeanor shrink.

Oh, I hope you’re happy

But not like how you were with me

I’m selfish, I know, I can’t let you go

So find someone great, but don’t find no one better

I hope you’re happy but don’t be happier

The last two weeks had been peaceful, same routine but I had barely been able to see Lo’ak. He was always gone early in the morning and was there for lessons, but he would leave with Tsireya as soon as we were done. Even though it was our day off from lessons I hadn’t seen him at all. Maybe it was because I had been sticking to Kiri most of the day, but the lack of his presence left me feeling empty.

Although it really was relaxing to hear the waves crash softly and to sunbathe, it appeared that Eywa had plans of her own as the moment of calm barely lasted before the sound of crunching sand and laughter came closer. My ears twitched as I slowly sat up. Looking to my side I saw Ao’nung and his group of skxawng heading towards Kiri. Narrowing my eyes I stood up quickly and headed over to where she was, but they made it there before me.

“What is she doing? She’s just looking at the sand” Ao’nung laughed.

“What? What’d you say?” Kiri questioned slowly, getting out of the water with a confused smile on her face.

“Are you some kind of… freak?” Ao’nung teased as his friends laughed.

“Leave her alone Ao’nung. She is no freak,” I hissed, grabbing Kiri’s arm to leave. “Let’s go, Kiri.''

“Are you sure? Look at these hands.” he persisted and grabbed the offending hands in question.

“Ao’nung plea-”

“Hey! Back off fish lips.” Lo’ak yelled, rapidly approaching as the beginnings of a snarl was already forming on his face.

“Oh another four-fingered freak,” Ao’nung simpered.

“Look at his little baby tail,'' one of Ao’nung’s friends pointed out while pulling at Lo’ak’s tail, causing laughter to bubble up amongst them.

“Leave us alone!” Kiri pleaded as they continued to tease and gang up on Lo’ak. I saw Neteyam stalking towards us in the corner of my eye.

“You heard what she said. Leave them alone,” Neteyam said as he shoved Ao’nung away from Lo’ak, much to the delight of one of Ao’nung’s friends.

“Aw, big brother comi-” Ao’nung interrupted with a hand on his chest.

“Back off. Now,” Neteyam warned Ao’nung, lifting his hands in mock surrender shortly after. “Good choice,” he nodded, eyes never wavering. “And from now on, I need you to respect my sister.”

Clearly unhappy with being talked down to by the brother of the “freaks,” one of the skxawng hissed before Ao’nung lifted his hand to stop him. My eyes scanned all the Metkayina boys and held Ao’nung’s stare before sticking my tongue out.

“C’mon, let’s go,” Neteyam ordered.

As we were leaving, I heard Ao’nung’s voice carried over by the wind.

“All freaks, the whole family.”

But before I could do anything, I saw Lo’ak turn and reassure us that he could handle the situation before spinning on his heel and heading back towards them.

“I know this hand is funny,” he said, voice low as he flexed the extra digit to demonstrate. “Look, I’m a freak. Alien. But it can do something really cool.” I tried to hold back my laugh while Kiri rolled her eyes. I looked at Neteyam and gave him a small smirk, he simply shook his head.

“Watch,” Lo’ak studied the curious expressions of the Metkayina boys while they were enthralled with his hand, “first I ball it up real tight like this, then—” fast enough you could almost miss it, he punched Ao’nung not once, but three times.

“It’s called a punch, bitch!” Lo’ak crowed, pointing an accusing finger. “Never touch my sister again.”

Ao’nung lunged at Lo’ak and tackled him onto the sand. The two wrestled on the ground, and Lo’ak got a good hit in before being pulled off by his tail. What dirty fighters! I hissed but saw Neteyam shake his head and sigh before jumping in to defend his brother before I could do anything.

“Guys. Stop it,” Kiri groaned.

“This is embarrassing,” I said as I looked over at her, my tail swishing back and forth in anticipation. As we shared a look we could hear someone yell, “ow my tail!” and a responding,“ow my ear!”

“This is stupid,” we both laughed.

My eyes widened as I see Lo’ak climb atop Ao’nung and start serving blow after blow. Before this became any worse and the son of the Olo’eyktan was injured any further, I was already moving to get Lo’ak off of him.

“You skxawng, if you keep hitting him your father will send you to Eywa faster than—” Interrupted by an elbow to the nose, I yelped in pain and I staggered back as I held my face.

The fighting stopped. All eyes were on me.

“Shit! (Y/N) why would you get so damn close?” Lo’ak cursed as he got off Ao’nung to look at the damage.

“I was trying to prevent your early death, asshole,” I hissed.

“That doesn’t justify why you would try to pry me off of him, if I didn’t know any better I would’ve thought you were trying to protect his skxawng ass over there,” he scoffed.

“You’re the real skxawng. I already told you, I’m trying to save your ass from the harsh scolding your father will deal you when he hears that you beat up the son of the Olo’eyktan!” I yelled.

As Lo’ak and I continued to argue, the group of boys dispersed and all that was left was Ao’nung, Kiri, and Neteyam looking at us confused. Before the argument could get worse, Jake found us and saw the aftermath of the fight. Angered by the sight of Ao’nung injured, he pushed Lo’ak and Neteyam by the shoulders and ordered me to follow him to the marui. My ears flattened and my tail wrapped around my ankle at the sound of his angered tone, but I followed anyway.

Looking back, I saw Ao’nung sign, “thank you” and— once again—stuck my tongue out at him in distaste. Who did he think he was, thinking that I’d willingly help him after he called my friends “freaks?” Bah, he was such a presumptuous jacka—

“Keep walking, (Y/N),” Jake groused and snapped me out of my thoughts, unwilling to let anymore scuffles happen today. Feeling properly chagrined, I lowered my head and turned around only to meet eyes with Lo’ak.

The interaction didn’t go unnoticed by him, it seemed.

After Jake scolded us and told Lo’ak to apologize to Ao’nung, I was told to go wash the blood off of my face, so I followed silently behind a fuming Lo’ak. Lost in thought, I bumped into him and started apologizing before he turned and grabbed my shoulders.

“When did you and fish lips get so close?” He questioned.

“Close?”

“Yes, close.” He stepped back and tilted his head, brows creasing in growing annoyance. “Close enough that you would get hurt protecting him, trying to get me off of him. What is wrong with you? Don’t think I haven’t noticed the looks, the fact that you guys talk through sign even when we are not in the water,” he scoffed.

“Where is this even coming from—”I sputtered in confusion, trying to gather my thoughts before feeling a rising frustration of my own. “You’re unbelievable, you know that? Why can’t you believe that I was doing it for you?! I was trying to save you from a fierce scolding for disobeying your father’s orders. I was trying to protect you,” I spit out, eyes growing blurry with angry tears.

“Bah! Stop lying, I know you (Y/N). You would have fought alongside me and defended Kiri. You are not the same girl I knew in the forest back home,” he muttered, rolling his eyes and getting ready to walk away. “Talk to me when you’ve come back to your senses,” he called over his shoulder, leaving me behind as tears started to fall and my chest started rising and falling uncontrollably. The familiar ache was back again, only this time it stung with every sob I let out.

And do you tell her she’s the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen?

An eternal love bullshit you know you’ll never mean

Remember when I believed you meant it when you said it first to me?

It was decided that I would be the first to undergo the iknimaya. Carefully jumping over a fallen log, I grabbed my yimkxa and walked closer to where the ikran rested. Behind me, I heard two new but familiar voices. Without turning around, I could hear the greetings of Lo’ak and Neteyam to the other hunters. Vaguely I registered them saying they wanted to come and watch to cheer me on.

Facing forward, I made sure to be aware of my surroundings so I didn’t make a fool out of myself. Left and right, banshees of all shades and hues screeched and flew off. I scanned through the many ikran that flew off and briefly remembered my mentor telling us that to find the banshee we are meant to bond with for life, it must try to kill us first.

I found myself face-to-face with a white and gold ikran that stomped angrily to show off its dominance. Powerful jaws that showed off gleaming fangs snapped in my direction, so I bared my fangs and hissed in response. Crouching slightly as I slowly circled around the beautiful creature, I faintly heard Lo’ak’s cheer of encouragement.

A strong wave of adrenaline shot through me as the banshee began to bare its teeth and bellow angrily. Before I could register it, I barely managed to dodge teeth aimed for my leg. Ducking and weaving out of reach from its, I quickly swung my yimkxa around its head, successfully immobilizing the jaw. With as much speed I could muster, I jumped onto the back of the ikran—its neck felt like woven stone beneath my legs as it thrashed its head about, trying to buck me off.

It was hard to distinguish what was up or down as I clumsily grabbed at my queue to complete the tsaheylu. I could barely hear the faint cheering and war cries behind me—the feeling of my vision sharpening and my lungs inhaling with a renewed strength was too overwhelming to focus on anything else. The bond was made.

“I will name you Tekay,” I whispered as I took the yimkxa off.

My hands eagerly held onto her as she screeched and began to flap her wings, a signal that she was going to take off. Laughing, I led her to the edge and nose-dived off the face of the cliff. I could hear the screams of the other hunters and the two Sully boys.

The wind pushing against my face was exhilarating and my chest swelled as I directed Tekay to fly straight up to where the ikran nest was.

“You scared us shitless (Y/N)! What were you thinking?” Neteyam chastised as I landed.

“It was amazing!” I shouted, breathless and full of awe. “The feeling of the air against my skin and Tekay’s speed! No words can describe how I feel at this very moment! Did you see that Lo’ak? I did it!” I exclaimed, cheeks flush with adrenaline.

“You know you’re really beautiful when you’re excited,” Lo’ak laughs.

Beautiful.

“Wh-what’re you talking about skxawng,” I said, turning around to face Tekay in hopes he didn’t notice the darkening of my cheeks. It seemed as though Eywa was on my side that day as Lo’ak turned back around to get on top of his Ikran and yipped at me. Looking back at him, I tilted my head.

“Let’s race back to High Camp! The last one there is a skxawng” He taunted.

“(Y/N)? Are you listening?” A soft voice questioned, pulling me back from my reminiscing.

“Huh? Oh yeah, sorry… just lost in thought for a second.” I smiled.

“What were you thinking about, hm? Maybe a certain Na’vi whose name starts with ‘Lo’ and ends in ‘ak?’” Kiri teased and giggled as my eyes grew wide and the tips of my ears grew pink.

“N-no I wasn’t! What makes you think that!” I gasped. Suddenly, I found a great interest in the ocean.

“Oh no reason…” she teased.

Before I could respond I saw two heads pop out of the water laughing, looking like they were in their own little world. That nothing else mattered. As they were getting closer to shore I could see that it was Lo’ak and Tsireya. My heart clenched and I stopped Kiri before she called them over to us. There was confusion on her face, but a look of understanding replaced it soon after she saw me shake my head.

Too afraid to move in fear of being found, I gripped Kiri’s hand in a silent plea for her to stay as still as possible. Not too far below the rock we were situated on, we could hear the both of them playfully push at and laugh with each other. Tears clouded my vision as I witnessed Lo’ak complement Tsireya.

“You know you’re really beautiful when you laugh,” Lo’ak chuckled, pushing a stray strand of hair away from her face. My mind was a blur as the once unfamiliar feeling in my chest came back and I could only silence my sobs in my hands while Kiri shushed and comforted me.

And now I’m pickin’ her apart

Like cuttin’ her down will make you miss my wretched heart

But she’s beautiful, she looks kind

She probably gives you butterflies

I’ve been avoiding Lo’ak all week, which didn’t really take much effort on my part as he didn’t seek me out either. I found myself distancing myself from everyone, whenever I had free time I would excuse myself to a secluded area near the roots of the mangrove trees and wallow in self-pity. My sadness grew with each passing day. I’ve fallen into a routine since our fight and after witnessing him be oh-so gentle with her, slipping away as soon as lessons are over, coming back just before dinner starts and leaving as soon as I’m done, barely talking to Kiri, Neteyam or anyone in general.

They tried their hardest to make sure I was alright and actually taking care of myself, but it was hard to keep myself from shutting down whenever I was with them. It had gotten to the point where even Ao’nung was trying to look out for me, like some sort of switch was flipped after the fight.

If I was in my right mind, I would’ve hissed and blatantly showcased my distaste for him, but even uttering a word other than meek “thank you”s when he hands me water or some sort of snack was more than I could handle.

“You know you should really eat, you’ve already lost some weight,” A now-familiar voice chastised.

With a small sigh I replied, “I’m not hungry,” pulling my knees closer to my chest.

A shift in the air told me that the person has moved and crouched down next to me. Turning my head slightly, I saw that he was holding out a piece of fruit. I stared blankly and after a pregnant pause, he softly took my hand and places the fruit in it.

“Ao’nung please, I already told you I’m not hungry.”

“I overheard Lo’ak telling my sister you didn’t eat breakfast.” He pulled out a small woven bag of fruit. “And lunch has already passed. Eat,” he ordered. But before he could push anymore food in my direction, I shook my head and turned away. “He can notice enough to tell Tsireya that I’m not eating, but he doesn’t care enough to talk to me himself?”

Ears twitching, I heard Ao’nung take a breath to—I’m assuming comfort me—and I interrupted him, not wanting to hear empty platitudes. It was a rhetorical question anyway, it wasn’t as if I was expecting an answer.

“If I take one bite will you leave me alone?”

“If you finish the whole thing, then I will leave you alone,” he bargained.

“Bah, you are insufferable,” I hissed, eyeing the fruit before taking a bite. The juice and flavors that flowed into my mouth made me realize just how thirsty and hungry I actually was. Eagerly I took another bite, until there was nothing left.

“Right, you definitely weren’t hungry,” Ao’nung teased. Glaring at him, I nudged his shoulder.

“This is the part where you leave, skxawng.”

He held his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright I’m leaving. I’ll let Kiri know where you are, she’s been looking all over for you,” he informed as he stood up and began climbing down the root.

As his shuffling grew distant, I growled in frustration as tears welled up in my eyes and pulled my knees even closer to my chest. Before my tears could fall, I heard the familiar sound of laughter that used to fill my stomach with butterflies and made my heart soar. Eyes wide I could see Lo’ak pop out of the water yelling.

“I did it! Did you see that Reya?”.

“Reya?” I whispered.

It felt like something broke.

I hope you’re happy

But not like how you were with me

I’m selfish, I know. I can’t let you go

So find someone great but don’t find no one better

“(Y/N)? Ao’nung told me you were here, are you okay?” a soft voice questioned.

“Kiri… it hurts” I sobbed into my hands as the scene continued to replay in my head. Gentle arms wrapped themselves around my shoulders, cradling me to their chest. Shushing me as I sobbed, Kiri allowed me to let it all out before she began to softly coerce me to tell her what was wrong. With only faint sniffles being heard, I felt Kiri move so that we are sitting face to face with our hands holding.

“Take a deep breath with me, calm your heart,” she said, voice soothing as she began to slowly inhale to set the pace. I tried to follow along the best that I could through hiccuping breaths.

“That’s it txe’lan,” she encouraged, “once you’ve calmed down we can speak of the storm that’s clouding your heart. Take all the time you need.”

We sat in silence for a few minutes as the waves softly crashed against the shore, my breathing slowing and all that was left of my breakdown was a shuddering breath. I tried to pull my hands away from Kiri’s grasp but she’s too quick and she tightens her hold on my hands.

“You are not running away from this, do not collapse into yourself or you’ll lose to the war in your heart,” Kiri insisted, her voice gentle but stern. “Please, tell me what is going on? I’m worried about you. You know I will never judge you, I am here to listen.”

With one last unsteady breath, I began to tell her the reason for my lack of appetite and why tears stained my face more often than not. As I voiced out my insecurities my vision blurred and I felt the familiar ache in my chest rise as I tried to choke back a sob.

“I just don’t understand how someone could change so much in such a short period of time. Seeing their lingering looks, the soft touches, the way he tells her things he used to tell me first… hurts. It hurts so much. After the fight with Ao’nung it’s like I’m nobody to him anymore,” I whispered.

“Oh, txe’lan, my brother is an idiot but he would never think less of you…” Kiri responded.

“When we fought he told me he didn’t know who I was anymore, that I wasn’t the same girl I used to be…” I sobbed, my hands tearing themselves away from her gentle hold to wrap around myself. “Why didn’t he understand?”

Kiri tilted her head as she reached a comforting arm towards me. “Understand what?”

“How could he even think I would choose somebody over him? When I did it for him and nobody else?” Another rhetorical question, I know, but my eyes searched her face for an answer regardless. I scrunched my nose in frustration at the obvious look of pity aimed at me and tried to turn away.

“Txe’lan..”

“And you know the worst of it all, Kiri?” A mirthless laugh bubbled from my throat. “I can see how easy it is for him to push me away. To forget the years we spent together laughing, making jokes and telling each other things no one else knew about.”

“I don’t think he’s forgotten…” Kiri says, trying to reassure me.

“I know that he still cares, I know that he wouldn’t just leave me behind for someone else to hurt me on purpose but it makes my heart ache. I know that I shouldn’t be sad that he’s found someone to be happy with, that I shouldn’t be selfish. I should be celebrating for him but I can’t. It feels like I’m being left behind in the dust and cast aside while he’s found the one.” As I went on, my chest became tighter and tighter. “It just hurts a lot Kiri. And I shouldn’t be hurting because he seems so— so happy, and it hurts even more—”

“(Y/N), how’re you so sure that he’s left you behind for good?” Kiri sighed and laid her hand on my knee.

“I’m not sure, which hurts me more than knowing if he has. My heart and mind are clouded with the fear of losing him. Kiri…” I looked up to the sky to prevent any more tears from falling, my voice becoming smaller. “ I just miss my friend, I miss the way it used to be.”

“I know you do.” She frowned and moved to wrap her arms around my shaking form.

“You’re so dead when I get to you big bro,” Lo’ak shrieked, small canines flashing as he jumped after Neteyam into the river.

“Like you can take me on skxawng,” Neteyam laughed and dodged.

“Oh yeah?” Lo’ak smirked, puffing out his chest. “I have a secret weapon. (Y/N)! C’mon, help me take him down!” I popped out from behind a fallen branch with bared fangs, my tail whipping playfully as I let out a war cry and pounced onto a startled Neteyam. My legs wrapped around his waist while my arms found purchase around his neck in a weak chokehold.

“What the—”

“Never underestimate the enemy!” I crowed with triumphant laughter as he lost balance and fell into the river.

Lo’ak was doubled over in laughter. “You should see your face!”

“Wait till dad hears about this—” Neteyam threatened, doing his best to seem intimidating while waterlogged.

“Try your best big bro, you can’t even catch us,” Lo’ak mocked as he took my hand and started running home, laughter ringing throughout the forest.

“Have you tried talking to him about it?”

I let out a frustrated groan and flopped onto my back. “What would be the point?”

“Well—”

“I want to be selfish, to yell out that I miss him—us but I truly, genuinely want him to be happy, and I’m not going to get in the way of that.” Raising myself up on one arm to look out into the ocean at the silhouettes of two Na’vi kids playing in the water, I hurriedly wiped away frustrated tears that couldn’t seem to stop. “It just hurts so much more to know that he’s at the happiest point in his life without me in it.”

I hope you’re happy

I wish you all the best, really

Say you love her, baby, just not like you loved me

And think of me fondly when your hands are on her

I hope you’re happy, but don’t be happier

Ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh

Ooh-ooh

I hope you’re happy

Just not like how you were with me

I’m selfish, I know, can’t let you go

So find someone great, but don’t find no one better

I hope you’re happy, but don’t be happier

#lo'ak x reader #lo'ak x y/n #lo'ak x tsireya #lo’ak x reader #lo'ak x you #x reader #reader insert #angst #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam sully #neteyam #jake sully #sully family #kiri te suli kìreysì'ite #kiri #ao'nung #aonung #songfic #loak angst

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styxpenz · 22 days

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some snippets i like of things im either never gonna post or finish or am like. very far from finishing sjfbsb (in no particular order)

#styx says #snippets #back on my bullshit<33 #ALSO theres a 3rd person in the first one xfghjdf video wouldnt tell shawn to shut up they wouldve kept bickering #come hell or high water #give us clearer skies #comfort of yesterday #sweet city sweat #figuring it out #occams libido #yes i gave names to fics im never gonna post... idk why either dfghdjf

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lastthroes · 1 month

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i have talked about this in the past but i don't think i made a post about it:

if you go to aball, you can find an inscription written on the pillar for celica and arthur's unborn son:

(read more for berseria lategame spoilers)

it's easy to see how this ties into the ending, with laphicet's (the reincarnation of that child) dialogue when he makes the oath to become the empyrean maotelus and spread the silver flame in the world

as well as his monologue during the after credits

it's a very recurrent theme: as you fight artorius and innominat during the first battle, laphicet also has a chat where he tells velvet that he'll fly right by her side

but what's not as easy to see is something else

i realized in my last replay that the tombstone's translation is actually not accurate: it got localized as "this little life will spread its wings and soar through the skies", but the original inscription in japanese was 『この小さき命が為、“理想の翼”は空に羽ばたかん』, which in the most literal way i can think of, it'd be: "for this small life, 'wings of an ideal' will flap its wings in the skies" (where 理想, which i translate as 'ideal', is also composed by 理, as 'reason', and 想, as 'thought' or 'conception')

now, what was it that artorius said right before he armatized? what was the true name he used for innominat?

ネブ＝ヒイ＝エジャム -> nevn hiw ejuam -> translated from the ancient tongue, its easily arranged into "wings for an ideal"

and again, in japanese, the reference to the tombstone is even clearer: ��今すべてを鎮めよう。我が羽ばたきで、人に相応しい静寂を……」which, in the most literal way, would be something along the lines of "now, let's suppress it all. with the flapping of my own wings, i will give humankind its adequate stillness". his armatized form, besides letting him use his right arm again, also gives him wings

it makes sense artorius was the one who put all the tombstones up and therefore eventually the engraving: velvet and laphicet were very young, and after the incident and melchior's words he probably lived disconnected enough from the rest of villagers to want anyone else getting close to them. but what's interesting to see is that just as much as he engraved that inscription in the stone, he also engraved those words deep within him

#artorius collbrande #tales of berseria spoilers #tales of berseria #tob #i like replaying these games #i always find new things to poke at #zestbers talk #crowe family #tl #q

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moonsprayer · 5 days

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TAG DUMP. please do not interact with this post.

#out of crystals ( ooc )#i see right through me ( ic )#who could ever leave me darling? ( bonds )#the moon will sing a song for me ( lore )#i shine only with the light you gave me ( visage )#time will change you ( musings )#god give us clearer skies ( music )#a sky full of stars ( act i )#happy days will never be granted ( act ii )#that's the kind of future in store ( act iii )#i don't know where the thoughts are coming from ( act iv )#close your eyes and you'll leave this dream ( act v )#fall apart without me ( act vi )#i will protect you until the end ( genshin )#modern day cain ( modern )

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missadmyre · 6 months

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INDIGO SKIES

After fighting a mysterious force he has never fought before with someone who he ALSO doesn't know, Danny finds himself stuck in a situation of figuring out what to do to his unconscious partner. What ghosts would he fight eventually? Is there more of them? Who IS this kid that calls himself the "Ninja"? The story of how the Ninja and the Phantom first met.

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The fight between that Yokai ghost was difficult, Danny had to admit. It was thanks to the ninja that he had broken the stalemate. With the ghost being on the thermos, he was about to go back to his house when he noticed the ninja's physical state, bloody and bruised.

Normally, these were things he gets everyday, and he knows that the ninja is more than capable of taking care of himself, that he can prove because of their time together, but to see his partner way more injured than he's supposed to, it struck something in him.

He flew to the ninja, who backed himself to the wall, holding his wound so it wouldn't bleed out. It had been a tough fight for him, getting flung around and all that, "Hey ninja, you need help?" Danny asked, reaching his hand out to him. The ninja tried to even out his breathing, he wanted to answer, but he couldn't even mutter out a single word.

He was about to straighten up and reach out when he saw black dots blocking his vision, the world spinning as he let himself fall. He expected the cold hard concrete pavement when he felt a pair of hands hugging him tightly, his face touching some sort of elastic fabric. He tried to open his eyes but his consciousness was starting to slip away, at least he didn't pass out on the floor, even if the guy who holds him is still cold to the touch.

Danny freaked out when he saw the ninja fall, he was able to quickly grab him and let the guy fall asleep on his chest, knowing from experience that it's hard to wake a person who was probably working on andrenaline the whole time. He couldn't leave the guy on the streets so they flew themselves back to his house.

It was 2 in the morning, thankfully it was Saturday so he didn't have to half-ass his treatment for the ninja. He settled the teen down and let himself turn back into his human form.

Getting his med kit that he often uses from under his bed, he tried to remove the stupid suit off the Ninja but it wouldn't budge. "How and why the hell can't I take this shit off!" Danny grunted, giving up. He moved on to the Ninja's face, which he guessed would have a lot of blood since he was always flung around during the fight.

He lifted the Ninja's mask and removed it, causing a red glow which made Danny step back. Black strips slithered away from the limbs of the ninja as his suit began to tear itself away from the ninja and into the void. The Ninja, now revealing themselves as a teen, made Danny a bit shocked but shrugged off the information.

"800 year old my ass, I suppose we both have the same issues don't we?" Danny muttered, a smirk on his face as he knows some struggles of being a teen hero. A sigh escaped from his lips as he grabbed alcohol and bandages from his kit, maybe he should reveal his secret to the kid, just to even it out.

Randy woke up, fluttering his eyes to make his vision clearer, he carefully sat up, scanning the room. It definitely wasn't his room, nor was it Howard's, whoever kept him here must have been some sort of scientist or something due to the metal scraps and weird cylindrical things scattered on a desk near him.

"This room must've been Viceroy's." Randy thought, fear rising in him as he tried to get out of bed. He fell down, causing a large thud on the floor, he tried to stand up, his legs wobbling as he tried walking as fast as possible.

He reached the doorknob and was about to open it when another person entered the room. This caused randy to fall down to the floor again, as he backed himself away from the person before him.

Danny heard a loud thud coming from his room, he went straight to the room and saw the teen backing himself away from him. Danny knew the kid was panicking so he took it upon himself to at least calm them down. "Hey kid—" he found himself kicked on the face, hard. He held his jaw to soothe the pain as the kid sped up to him.

The kid tried to punch him but he blocked it, he held both the teen's wrists, "Kid calm down!". Danny tried to get some sense to the kid who then shouted back, "Who are you? Viceroy's assistant?". Danny was confused, must've been one of this kid's enemies he supposed, he then answered "Look, I don't know who that guy is!".

Randy wasn't having it with the teen's reply, with a knee kick to the guts, he was free from their grip and was about to go out when he realized that he didn't have the Ninjanomicon, as well as the mask. He frantically looked around the room and saw the Ninjanomicon and the mask sitting beside a TV.

With andrenaline fueling Randy, he ran towards the said TV, to which Danny noticed and chased after him. He pinned down Randy, who turned around making him face the teen. "I'm not gonna hurt you, calm down!" Danny gritted his teeth as he used his upper strength to grab the wrists of the kid.

He looked at the legs of the kid, he knew he was gonna kick so he used his other hand to pin down the leg that always kicks him. With the grunts and shouts coming from Danny's room, his dad had become worried about what was happening upstairs, his wife, Mrs. Fenton had also been worrying about it. Thinking it was a ghost attack, they ran to their son's room with their weapons.

"Danny! Baby! Are you okay— Oh my..." Mrs. Fenton clasped her hand on her mouth as Mr. Fenton had widened their eyes. It was a very awkward position to say the least, Danny had pinned down Randy who was lying on the floor and had both his legs sticking out to Danny's hips, suffice to say it was a scene that his parents never wanted to see.

Danny nervously tried to explain as he got off of Randy, who took the Ninjanomicon and the mask and hugged it tight, knowing that he can't escape. "D—Dad! Mom! I—I can explain-" Danny stuttered, trying to think of an excuse that could possibly overrule the "I'm having sex with the guy" theory.

His father walked towards him and put his hand on his shoulder, "Son." He sighed before continuing, "I know you love this guy, but you have to not hurry, plan your future, we'll talk downstairs." Danny tried to talk but they left, closing the door on him.

Randy had all rights to be confused, but it was confirmed that the teen was not working for Viceroy. "H-hey, where am I?" He asked, his voice raspy as he hadn't had a drink. Danny looked at him, "Welcome to Amity Park, Illinois kid, what's your name?". Randy then answered with his name as so with Danny and his name.

"You're the one that took me in, so you know I'm the Ninja, right?" Randy asked, it was about time to answer that question. "Yes, and so you know, I'm the Phantom, don't worry, I can keep your secret so long as you keep mine." Danny answered. Forming a bond, they talked a bit about information needed to form a semi-fake story before heading downstairs.

They saw both Mr and Mrs. Fenton, waiting for them at the dinner table, they gulped in nervousness as they both sat down. "So, what is your business with our son?" Randy had to look up to meet up with Mr. Fenton's eyes, scary.

"W-Well, I'm just his friend, nothing else, we were just playfighting when we fell down, j-just an awkward position, that's all." Randy said, Mrs. Fenton quirked up her eyebrows, "Then what's with all that screaming upstairs?". Danny then quickly replied "Well we were fighting about… a game? Yeah, a game, we were fighting about a game." It took off some suspicion, but the Fentons were still eyeing him.

"You don't seem to be from Amity Park, where did you come from anyway?" Mrs. Fenton asked, Danny also looked at Randy, he didn't ask that question earlier. "Uhm, well… I came from Oklahoma but I was travelling to New York, it was getting dark so I decided to stay here. I met Danny at that uhm… burger restaurant and we became friends." Danny was surprised, that was far. Randy lied at the end, knowing that they must keep their secret.

"Oh dear, that's quite far, even for you, does anybody know where you're going?" Mrs. Fenton questioned, her face now showing concern. "Ah my friend Howard knows, besides I've done it a dozen times and nobody notices it, it's fine really." Randy shrugged it off with a lie, hoping that it would get swept under the rug.

"But still, why are you in our son's room?" Mr. Fenton asked after being quiet for some time. "Ah dad, uhm h-he doesn't have a place to stay so uhm… I let him stay here, in my room." Danny tried to get them off the topic, which worked. "Son, we just want you to be safe, you can go back to your room, don't be too rowdy though." His father said, letting them completely off the hook.

The teens both mentally congratulated each other as they went back to the room, closing the door behind them as they sighed in relief. "You're actually from Oklahoma?" Danny was curious as to whether or not it was true, which had been proven that it was when Randy confirmed it.

"Hey, you have a phone or something? If you want, I can share my phone number to you." Randy said, a smile forming on his face. Danny pulled out his smartphone and copied the phone number Randy showed him, dialing to know if he got it right.

Randy's McPhone rang, proving that he got it right. Declining the call, he was about to leave when he realized that his shirt wasn't his, "Oh what the juice?! Danny did you change my clothes?", He said with a blush on his face.

Danny then shot back at him, "You just realized it now?". He pointed at the drawer near his bed, there sits his jacket and his shirt, along with his bag which had all of his clothes still in there. Wait, if the clothes he's wearing isn't his then…

"Oh uhm, you can put that shirt on that basket over there, it's fine." Danny pointed at a basket near the door, as he stood up to fix something.

As they brushed shoulders, Randy noticed that the teen was a bit taller than him, having a more wider and broader shoulder than him and more muscular than him. He found himself blushing as he turned his head away.

He removed the shirt, which was remarkably a bit bigger, the collar sliding a bit off of his left shoulder when he noticed it. He threw it in the basket and wore his shirt, not knowing that Danny was staring at him.

Danny was about to hide his med kit back when he looked at the kid's torso. Although bandaged, there were scars poking out, he was toned and had his pants sliding down a bit that he could see his waist. He puts his hand on his mouth as he whispered, "Hot...".

Randy heard Danny mutter something which made his head turn around, "What?" He asked. Danny is dumbfounded by what he said earlier, blushing because of his statement. "What?! Uhm… nothing!" He shoved the kit back under the bed as he turned away, leaving Randy confused.

With his shirt on him, he then wore his jacket, storing the mask on the inside pockets of his jacket as he puts the Ninjanomicon in the bag, they then left the room and went downstairs.

Heading to the front door, he said goodbye to the Fentons as Danny guided him to the bus station. Randy stepped on the bus and said his goodbyes as he went in and left Amity Park.

Danny sighed, looking at the distance, to say that he didn't feel something would be a total lie, he looked at his smartphone, at least he had some connection with the guy. His stomach growled, destroying his long gaze at his smartphone, maybe breakfast is a much needed distraction.

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Y'all, the ectoham is so fucking barren it looks pitiful asf. I'll probably post a MIS/NS fic but come on, ectoham has got to have content bro.

But anyways, this fic is also connected to the MIS fic I wrote, every Secret Trio and MIS fic/art I would do are on the same AU. Still trying to think of the name of it though. Thanks for reading.

#rc9gn #secret trio #danny fenton #danny phantom #randy cunningham #randy cunningham 9th grade ninja #ectoham #Here's content for y'all #I just imagine that y'all are just creatures with very sharp teeth and is the definition of “biting the hand that feeds”.

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