#maybe ill make a follow up piece of will comforting him idk

[animangalover-writes]

Split Seams(And You Deserve It)

Also posted on ao3

Tw: Self Harm

Hannibal, does not believe he deserves to live, nor does he deserve death, and all its relief.

So he lays down somewhere, in his big empty house, with cuts on his wrists. Stinging. Throbbing. And he soaks up the pain. The burn. Watches the split skin, the uncomfortable trails of blood trickling down his arms. And he doesn't move.

Because this is what he deserves.

[lolapiastri]

his sinful secret | p. gasly

warnings: smut, heavy religious imagery and themes, a sinful amount of dirty talk, like pierre cannot stfu, heavy degredation, everyone gets head, choking, a some praise, spitting, this is like actual filth maybe being ill makes me horny idk

author's note: i'm blaming this filth on the fact that i'm under the weather rn but jesus christ be fucking warned, she's a roller coaster

pierre prided himself in his religion. it was important to him, that belief in a higher power was the faith he needed to live the life he did. it seemed the driver life was one full of jealousy, gluttony and lust, but he was determined not to fall victim to the sins like so many before him.

so he payed his dues. he went to church whenever he had a free sunday, said a silent prayer for his friends and family every night, gave thanks to the lord before every meal as a token of appreciation.

his religion wasn’t a joke to him, it never would be. it was a belief that kept him sane, kept him in order, kept some sense of purpose and responsibility in his life. it wasn’t something that he would pick and choose whether to follow or not. he was all or nothing with his belief, and he chose all.

until he met you.

you were his sin personified, his dirty little secret. whenever you two were together all thoughts of his religion left his mind, as he now existed to serve you, to worship in between your thighs, listen to your moans as if they were gospel. it was like any holy thought left his mind the second your skin brushed over his.

he never wanted to give into the temptation. he saw you as a challenge, a sign to resist sin and stay thinking holy thoughts. but when you showed up at the club in a tight white dress, hair tumbling over your shoulders as your hips swayed provocatively to the music, he knew that nothing could stop him taking you home that night, and many a night after that.

which is how he ended up knocking on your flat at 9pm on a monday evening, the day after a tough race where he just felt useless. a double dnf for alpine followed by a race without points. he felt horrible, felt like a failure, and all the comfort that his producers and members could give him could never make him feel as good as you could.

the warm orange hues of a southern french sunset lit up your apartment as you swung open the door, the golden hour glow accenting the faint highlights in your hair. you were underdressed for pierre's standards, normally revealing yourself to him in a lacy set he bought for you, or sometimes even nothing, looking like a greek statue as you left nothing to the imagination.

today was different. you weren’t expecting him; you had no warning to any chain of events about to follow. so you opened the door to show yourself in a white linen shirt, almost certainly his, that was so large on you it was practically a dress, that you had been lounging around your flat in.

pierre didn’t care, however, thinking you were still as stunning as ever. the white made your tanned skin seem darker, and with a few buttons undone your cleavage was truly out on display, a teaser at what he would truly see later. a pair of large hoops hung in each ear, with a small chain around your neck with ‘10’ engraved on it finishing the look. he loved that necklace, a sign that you and him had some kind of connection, even if it was only through a piece of jewellery.

“you alright?” you asked, eyes scanning from head to toe. it was rare for pierre to show up without telling you, if he ever had. there was a silent agreement that he would let you know when he needed to release energy, to be in your presence, to succumb to the sinful energy you supposedly emitted.

he shook his head. “fucked the race yesterday. now wanna fuck you.”

and there it was. the switch that flicked where pierre ignored his religion, ignored the purity and goodness he was supposed to uphold, and you became the deity he worshipped.

his hands grabbed your face as he pulled you into a needy kiss, calloused fingertips rough against your smooth skin. the kiss held a thousand emotions: anger, upset, disappointment, lust, love, and enough passion to knock you back on your feet, needing the stability of pierre's hands to stay upright.

he always kissed you like it was his last on earth, like he may never get to do this again so he was going to savour every second of it. and he was so passionate - maybe because he was annoyed, maybe because he was stressed, or maybe because you were the only person who got to see this pierre. this raw, untamed, animalistic pierre who you adored seeing so much.

he slowly edged you back into your room, hips pushing against yours ever so slightly, enough to encourage your hips up against his, creating the tiniest bit of friction to ease the growing need between your thighs. you heard him shut the door behind you, never once taking his lips off of yours, befor his hands slid from your face to your neck.

you let out a quick gasp as he squeezed into your skin, feeling him smirk into the kiss as your breathing got shallower and shallower. he often did this. pushed your boundaries as far as he could push them. watched as your slowly cracked under the euphoric torture he performed on you.

he pulled back from you, letting out a chuckle as you chased his lips. he looked down, easily towering over you, a look of fake-pity etched all over his face.

“look so pretty with my hands wrapped around your neck, huh?” he asked, almost certainly a rhetorical question as he squeezed that slight bit harder, looking down at your thighs rubbing against each other, determined to find some relief from the ache in your core. “and you love it as well, love it when i choke you, when i treat you like a slut.”

his words went straight to your core, and you couldn’t rebute them without the lie showing all over your face. pierre eased up on your neck, hands now trailing down your body, over your rib cage, counting down with such an intent focus you would think it’s the first time he’s ever seen your body.

“wearing my shirt, must have missed me?” he asked, tone nonchalant but undertone the opposite. the agreement is that you don’t miss each other. you don’t have feeling for one another. you fuck. that’s it.

you took in a deep breath as one hand crawled under the white linen and felt the material of your underwear. lace, of course. pierre's favourite. you were aware of how his race went yesterday, and you were planning on sending him some photos to ease the pain. you did that often, when things weren’t going so well for him in the f1 world, a little pick me up in the form of barely lit lingerie pictures and videos of you moaning his name.

“never,” you teased, your hands rising over his shirt, pulling it off his body and exposing him in all his glory.

my god, was he stunning. you had never seen another man like him, one so broad and muscly yet slim and defined. his skin had grown darker in the past few weeks, undertone becoming more and more golden as his hair lightened under the european sun. he’d been keeping his hair long lately, and though you weren’t a fan at first, when you gripped it while he was your legs it was safe to say it grew on you. his eyes had a chill behind them, one only you were lucky enough to see, which told you that he had one hundred wonderful and wicked ideas to try out with you.

“white lace?” he questioned, having a peek under the shirt, the colour not normal for you. pierre liked navy, so that was what you normally wore, as well as black and red. he didn’t even know you owned a white set, and he had seen a lot of lingerie on you.

you hummed. “you like it?”

he loved it. loved the way the white material contrasted your skin, the way the quickly fading light bounced off it making you glow, the way he could already see the wetness collecting from your arousal. and most of all, he loved the way you looked angelic in it, look like the heavens yourself had sent you, because nothing you ever did was angelic. you were never angelic when you sucked him off, let him fuck you into oblivion, enjoyed being degraded and teased, and when you dressed the part, it somehow made everything more dirty for him.

“would love it more if you got on your knees.” the suggestion was an order, and of course you obeyed, sinking into the cold wooden floor of your bedroom and looking up at him with blinking eyes.

he looked majestic, light pouring out from the window behind him. and when he went to unbuckle his belt, your mouth already starting salivating in preparation, knowing what was coming. pierre must have been able to sense your eagerness, as he let out a wry chuckle looking down on you.

“always so fucking desperate for it, aren’t you?” all you could do was nod in response, leaning forward as mark slid his trousers down to pull his dick out from his boxers.

you were still in awe every time you saw his cock. sure, you’d been big dicks before, but pierre's was something in of itself. it was as majestic as his body was, and taken care of the same way.

you went to take it in your mouth, but pierre quickly tangled a hand in your hair and pulled you back, letting out a soft chuckle as a pout appeared on your lips.

“honestly, i don’t fuck you for two weeks and you forget all your manners. you think you just get to suck my cock? you think you’re worthy of that? dumb little girl.” his degrading words went straight to your core, you having to resist the urge to squeeze your thighs together as you looked up at him pleadingly.

“please, pierre,” his hand tilted your head up, nothing stopping your eyes from baring into his, seeing the devilish glint in his eye, “please.”

“please what? come on, good girls know how to beg properly,” he teased, watching down evilly as you whined at his harsh words.

you took in a deep breath. “please let me suck your cock, pierre.”

he nodded. “keep going.”

“please, just wanna make you feel good. please let me suck it, all i wanna do,” you were unravelling, slowly losing any previous willpower you had to resist his charm, diving headfirst into the depths of hell you two created together. it was a beautiful chaos, a place the two of you could completely unravel and just be morsels of sex and passion. “please, pierre, just want your cock in my mouth.”

“fuck, your such a whore for me. never seen such a lovely girl want cock so bad. but you’re not a lovely girl, are you?” you nodded, so desperate for him. “that’s right, baby, you’re a desperate little slut who’s only thought is dick, so why don’t you show me how much you love this one, yeah?”

his words would be the death of you. they were your bible, you would have done anything he asked you do when he was speaking in that deep, honey tone, french accent getting thicker and thicker as he lost himself in the moment. whatever he preached in church, said as he prayed, these were the opposite of that. these were the thoughts that hid in the back of his mind until he was around you, and then they were an unstoppable spew of sin and lust and as many other unholy emotions he could think of.

you sunk down on his cock as soon as you had permission, taking as much in as possible before starting to bob your head, swirling your tongue when you rose to the tip of his dick. he let out a deep groan when you choked around him, his length still too big even after a few months of sucking him off. his hand tightened around your scalp, guiding you up and down and up and down.

you pulled back to catch a breath, a string of saliva still attached to his dick, creating a link between you. pierre watched as you licked it up, before replacing your mouth his your hand, throwing his head back as your thumb rubbed over his tip.

“tell me how much you love this cock, baby,” he grunted, his words not surprising to you. when everything seemed to be going wrong in his life, pierre thrived on the praise of others. his parents, his mechanics, his engineers, and in this state you. any words that made him feel appreciated, needed, loved, he thrived on.

“love it so much, baby,” you panted, “so so much.”

and with that you started sucking again, still using your hand on everything you struggled to fit. his breaths got shallower and shallower as you kept going, feeling the muscles in his chest tensing as he got closer and closer to his high.

“look at you on your knees for me,” the hand in the back of your hair tilted your head towards the mirror you had in your bedroom, and the sight was one you were sure would be engraved in your memory for years to come.

it was like a renaissance pairing, the way the two of you looked. both glowing in the sunset light, sweating clinging loose strand of hair to your foreheads. pierre's mouth was hung open, defined abs clenched, looking completely gone with pleasure. your back was arched while on your knees, thighs clenched together as your mouth swallowed pierre down, tears slowly building in your eyes, threatening to break loose and paint your cheeks with mascara stained water.

“want me to finish in your mouth?” he groaned, obviously so near to the edge. but he always asked. no matter how intense anything was, pierre always asked.

you hummed in agreement around his cock, sending vibrations through the sensitive skin and bringing his orgasm that little bit closer. he took complete control now, fucking your face with sporadic, wild thrusts, before pulling back and waiting for the orgasm, your hand guiding him through it.

“open your mouth, baby,” he grunted, on the brink of the most sinful euphoria he could feel, “stick your tongue out for me- there you go. pretty little slut on her knees for me. never seen such a beautiful girl act like such a whore-”

and with that he came, covering your tongue and lips with his cum, groaning as he finally got the high he’d craved after the last two weeks. you carried him through it, keeping your mouth open until he’d completely finished.

“show me your tongue, baby,” he panted, a maniacal laugh appearing when you eagerly showed him your face. “god, you’re so good for me, you look so pretty covered in my cum, huh? go on, look at how messy you are for me.”

you turned you back to the mirror, and you got a proper look at how gone you were. your tongue was still out, eyes dazed over, nose to chin covered in pierre's cum, with your cheeks stained with mascara tears.

he pulled your head back, forcing you to look back up at him, before he leant over and spat in your mouth, the most sinful action of the night.

“swallow it up, yeah, there you go,” he almost whispered, and you did as he said, taking everything he had given you and the rest that he swiped in from your cheeks. “god, you’re always such a good girl for me.”

he was always softer after an orgasm, like he suddenly became aware of how harsh his words were, how you could easily take them the wrong way. you never did, but you appreciated the effort, and you appreciated him.

wait. no you didn’t.

“up you get, baby,” he cooed, helping you stand up and immediately wrapping your legs around his waist, carrying your through your flat like it was his own. he had spent so much time here it might as well have been.

he placed you down on the bed, letting you lean against the frame as he dimmed down the lights, leaving the room in a small, romantic glow. he finished undressing himself, before finally turning all of his attention to you.

this is where it became a sin.

see, pierre didn’t believe that pre-marital sex was a sin. well, whether or not it was he was more than happy to partake in it. what was a sin, however, was worshiping false deities. yet that’s exactly what he did to you.

after the agression you had just experienced, pierre knew it was time to turn his attention to in between your thighs, somewhere he could sit for hours and never get bored. it was a form of worship, how he treated you, one that he could never admit to the universe, a secret shared between the two of you.

his hands ran up your bare thighs, kneading them as his mouth followed, leaving a trail of wet, sloppy kisses along your skin. your legs spread automatically, a sigh of pleasure already coming from your mouth, just the motivation pierre needed to keep going.

"fuck, baby," he gasped, as one of his fingers stroked over your panties, feeling your sticky wetness caused from pierre's dirty words earlier, "fucking soaked for me, huh?"

"yes," you sighed as one of his fingers found your clit, making ever so light circles over the lace, "only for you, pierre."

"i know, baby, god you look so beautiful like this."

and he wasn't lying. with your back arched, a thin layer of sweat coating your skin, his shirt bunched up around your ribcage so he could see the rise of fall of your stomach as your breathing got shallower. he thought you were majestic, undenyable beauty, something to be worshipped.

so that's what he did.

he pulled your panties off and dived straight into your pussy, nose hitting your clit as his tongue worked wonders, lapping up the wetness and causing pornographic sounds to emit from your throat. god, was he good at eating you out, and when he added to fingers and curled them against that spot inside of you, you knew you were not lasting long.

"baby- oh my god, pierre- i'm gonna cum," you whined, hips bucking so much pierre had to use one of his arms to hold you in place.

pierre chuckled against your clit, the vibrations just bringing you closer to the edge. "yeah, i'm making you feel good."

"so good, pierre, so so so good."

and that was enough for him. sometimes he would make you beg, have you crying from the edging he would put you through, but he knew he was harsh earlier, and you had been so good your deserved to come.

"come for me then, baby," he grunted, fingers speeding up their pace, "come all over my fingers, make a mess of me, baby."

he words tipped you over the edge, the feeling of euphoria washing over you as pierre carried you through your high, breathing finally slowing down as pierre abandoned your pussy and staring leaving open mouthed kisses against the soft flesh of your thighs.

"think you can go once more for me?" he asked between kisses, and however tired you were you always wanted to please him, always wanted to make him feel good.

so you pulled him over you and braced yourself as he pushed inside of you, the stretch making you hear colours as his lips finally connected with yours for the second time that night, tongue exploring your mouth until he was fully inside of you.

"never gonna get over how good you feel wrapped around me, baby," he mumbled against your lips, pleasure evident on his face, "so fucking warm and wet, this pussy was made for me, wasn't it?"

you couldn't even respond, mouth stuck in an o-shape as he began to thrust in and out, his tip hitting your cervix as he picked up the pace.

"don't know what i would do without this cunt, think i would go insane not knowing this is always here for me, because it is, isn't it? this is my pussy."

pierre told himself he would hold back but he just couldn't help it, the feeling of being inside of you driving him crazy as his hips snapped against yours. only pierre's sinful words and the sound of skin against skin filled the room now, the feeling ever so dirty and sinful, just the way you both liked it.

"my fucking pussy to do whatever i want with, my playtoy, that's what you are, yeah?" he teased, and all you could do was whine in response as you grew closer and closer to your second orgasm.

"just a set of holes for me to use, aren't you? can't even speak because i'm fucking you so good, huh? just a cumdump for me, a slutty, pretty, cumdump. you want my cum, my pretty little whore?"

all you could do was nod, hoping that was enough for pierre right now. he chuckled, but you could tell he was close by the way his thrusts were growing irregular. and he could tell you were close by the way you clenched around him.

"you wanna cum? tell me who's making you feel this good."

you mustered up all the energy you had left to speak, hoping the words came out of your mouth. "you, pierre, only you can make me feel this good."

"tell me you belong to me," pierre didn't even know what he was saying at this point, the words leaving unconciously, his sinful desires becoming more and more evident in the world.

"i'm yours, pierre. every part of me is yours, i belong to you. god-"

"yeah, that's right, i'm your fucking god," he grunted, and that word, even though it's not what you meant, made both of you come undone together, a moan leaving both of your mouths as pierre collapsed against your chest, chests rising and falling as you attempted to calm down.

pierre pulled out, ever so gently, and knelt on the floor at the end of the bed, watching as some of his cum escaped from your swollen pussy. gently, he used his finger to scoop it up, and push it back into your cunt, before leaning back over to meet your lips in a kiss.

"thank you," he muttered, "for this. hope i wasn't too harsh."

you chuckled. "a little, but you know i like it. shit, though, i would have called you god sooner if i knew it would get that reaction."

with those words, pierre froze. those words should have never been said, should have never been put into the universe. it reminded pierre of his sin, of everything you tempted him towards. with no other option, he chose to escape your lustful allure, and made a mental note to pray tonight.

"gotta get back to the office, usami will be expecting me," pierre left one final kiss on your cheek before leaving.

you pouted, so many unspoken words floating on your tongue. stay. be mine. i love you. yet none of them were said, instead sending him a sad smile before grabbing your phone from your bedside table, just hoping deep down he felt the same way.

if only you knew you were just his sinful secret.

[nofoundboy]

I DO NOT KNOW WHY I HAVE A PENNYWISE OBSESSION BUT I DO AT THE MOMENT!

pennywise x male reader- reader just finishes a big life time project of theirs but it breaks just as when they’re showing it off (if its like an art project maybe it broke in the museum or sum in front of people) and they’re feeling fucking the worst bc of that like man ion wanna do anything man like all lazy around n shit like what is the purpose and pennywise is like being shitty bc idk i think thats how they are like why u sad all of a sudden weirdo? So kinda like angst to fluff in a way bc penny decides ‘hmm imma hear reader out and like yk be a better s/o and comfort them’ yk 

hahah I like it, I hope I get it right and I'm excited for this, I really love Pennywise

The dark circles under your eyes were unmistakable proof of how hard you had worked for it. How many nights of sleep you had sacrificed in order to achieve that work of art, that intricate and significant piece that now stood before your eyes and before the eyes of several other people admiring it in that art gallery.

The move had not been easy, but it was finally there, and you intended to enjoy the attention given to it, to boast about what you had worked so hard to achieve.

Until, before your horrified eyes and those of all those people, it had begun to fall, shattered by some effect of the material that no one had foreseen.

Maybe it had been the sun, maybe the transfer had really affected it... you had no way of knowing, no matter how many calculations and tests you had done previously, you simply could not understand why it had acted in this way, just at this moment.

The face of surprise of those present quickly changed to one of mockery, of indignation towards you and your lack of preparation, of pity and even indifference.

You felt your insides boil at their ill-considered reactions. And just as their empathy had abandoned their expressions at the first failure, so did your desire to continue in that place, because you knew perfectly well that apologizing and smiling in shame before those bitter critics would consume your will to live until you were nothing more than a shell.

So you simply grabbed your jacket, your keys and ran home, the only place you could get shelter from your humiliating failure.

When you arrived, Pennywise was already there, hunched over, staring at your window.

You didn't even feel like saying hello, so you just turned off your cell phone and collapsed on the couch.

You felt the presence of the clown next to you, who was watching you curiously and somehow knew perfectly well what had happened to you.

"I...I'm not in the mood for anything" you said in a sigh before sticking your face to the couch until you could see nothing else. He seemed to mumble something, touching your head and legs briefly, as if he wanted to make you react.

The above was repeated for a few weeks. You just went on autopilot, not wanting to do anything and not having the energy to care. And you kept asking yourself, did it really make any sense? The last thing you had done had turned out to be a disaster, a waste of time, resources, effort, and even health.

It didn't help that Pennywise was walking around your house trying to force reactions out of you, scare you or make you laugh with no success, only provoking your annoyance against him.

He would make constant jokes about the fact that you didn't sleep, he would put your plate of food everywhere. Although at first, that seemed like a considerate gesture on his part, it ended up being obnoxious, as he never stopped.

"Shit shit shit...do something!" he would suddenly shout. You didn't know where he learned that word from, as it wasn't a curse word you used.

You simply avoided him or shouted so loudly that he was the one who ended up getting fed up, although he never left for long.

"That's enough! If you want to stay here you have to shut the fuck up and leave me alone!" you exploded once he wouldn't stop following you around, looking for you to stop being 'so bored' as he said.

"You, you're acting weird you stop it!" he shouted in turn, pointing his long fingers at you and straightening to his full height to demonstrate his physical superiority.

"Shit" you whispered before fading to the ground, exhausted and thanks to your terrible eating schedules.

-

You didn't know how long you had slept, the only thing you noticed was the warmth of a large body beneath you, soft breathing in the crook of your neck, and impossibly long arms wrapped around your body.

"Are you all right now? Your body went 'plop' on the floor" he whispered when he realized you were already conscious.

Feeling his warmth beneath you, his presence, as reassuring to you as it was terrifying to others, and his total attention to your well-being made you smile softly, gratefully.

You knew how desperate he could be, especially if he didn't understand something, but now he showed you nothing but gentleness because he understood that you were unwell, regardless of your refusal to go on with your normal life. It only mattered that something like the previous episode would never happen.

"I'm not well at all. Just...what I do never seems to matter" you began to run your fingers through his hands, so large in comparison to yours and probably anyone else's.

"Did you care?" his peculiar voice crept into your ears, making you think for a moment.

"Yes...I still care, it's my life" you felt his nose touch that spot on your neck that made you burst into laughter and you let yourself be carried away by the pleasant sensation of being pampered by your peculiar partner.

"So...live, yes? Bitter ones don't taste good" was his way of consoling you and although very unorthodox, it had worked.

"So I'll just be your next dinner?" you turned until you felt your chest press against his and saw his face in front of you.

"No, you stink" and with his big claw, he touched the tip of your nose, laughing at your grimace of indignation.

You needed a bath, but before that, you decided to stay curled up on him for a while longer, not without giving him a soft kiss on the lips that made him laugh.

"Finally! World's most horrible boyfriend!" he gave you a light smack on the forehead that caused you to grimace.

"I am?" you were glad to be going back to those warm moments you enjoyed so much.

"Yes, but only when you're sad...would eating a child help?"

"Eww, no. I'm going to go take a shower, you idiot" you exclaimed before being interrupted by his lips, greedily seeking yours. You let yourself go until you were out of breath. That never happened to him. His taste was weird but somehow, intoxicating. You loved it.

"Thank you" you whispered, before rushing to the shower.

[luvring]

Rime my beloved <333 idk i really like him in a wattpad yn way n it scares me. Like, yeah he's a piece of shit or whatever but he likes me.... yk? It's the mental illness fantasy aha anyway can i get uhhhhh rime hcs. Fluff, angst, what kind of coffee he likes so i can spit in it yk yhe usual 😙 mmmm my mc has a white streak too i bet they'd go up to rime like "you fucking loser i bet its not even real. You used hair dye didnt u? And if it doesnt exist im sure u found some stupid spell just to copy me <3 bitch" what can i say i love bullying him he's like 6' he'll be fine

— general rime hcs

flips my sign that says felix cc to rime cc. i am here and ready O7

definitely bully him. deserved smh!!

"you think i dyed my hair to copy you? are you an idiot? we didn't even know each other—" "yeah yeah sure. i know you were watching me. you wanna be me so bad, huh? did you think felix would—" "finish that sentence and your blood is going to ruin the carpet." 👁️👁️ hit a nerve there

you don't even need to spit in his drink. literally anything messing with his hot chocolate will be life-threatening. he asks where the marshmallows were and you say you ate them

"you what" "i ate them" "...." "have you heard of the old chubby bunny challenge" "are you fucking—"

he makes a comment about how you're shorter than him and you throw back "yeah well at least i won't die young later—oh wait,"

cue the M3 spitting out their drink, choking, or looking wide-eyed and away from the scene

sorry. not really but sorry i'll bring back my fluff

if anyone else tried to insult or hurt you he's up in arms fr. he's spitting psychologically damaging insults. he is going up, tripping them, then saying "oops. that was a reflex"

if he ever spotted someone following you and making you uncomfortable he would walk up and glare at them

NOOOO MINI FAKE DATING RIME SCENARIO . oh my god

"who the hell are you, asshole?" "who do you think? their boyfriend. so i'd be careful about what you say or do next, asshole."

the person leaves after he grins at them (and probably after seeing him reach for something sharp in his little pouch)

. . .blinks. twirls my hair. pushes it behind my ear. :smirk:

"...so we're dating now?" "you are so irritating." "you have a crush on me" "i'm letting you struggle like a dying fish the next time this happens." (- rime when he lies)

pocky challenge. pocky challenge do the pocky challenge he gets much closer than everyone was expecting just to fluster you. depending on your relationship it will just (d)evolve into kissing

ohh rime getting nightmares about dying or being left alone ohh

he isn't one to crawl into bed and cuddle with you . smth smth terrible at being vulnerable or asking for help

you find him on the couch with a drink in his hand and sit beside him in silence

"didn't take you as someone to miss out on beauty sleep." "can you ever be quiet?" "mm...sometimes. maybe if you wanted to talk about why you're here?"

he won't give you specific details but you get the idea that he had a bad dream

he lets you keep him company while he finishes his drink, and stays there even after he does. it's really his way of letting you know he's ? sort of alright with you ?

he'll leave and tell you you should go back soon "unless you want to look even worse in the morning" (ohh you wanna kiss me so bad)

he makes fun of the others with you . and also other people in general

won't admit it but he likes That era of pop-punk/rock. looped the american beauty/american psycho fob album overnight by accident once probably

if for some miraculous reason he's in an especially good mood, he will let you try his caramel flan. contrary to popular belief and to the detriment of everybody else,, you are the only one who gets to try the flan.

you know when you ask somebody what you should wear and they're like "Whatever you feel the most comfortable in :) you are stunning no matter what :) ily :)"

that is not him. if you want an honest easy answer you go to rime

"should i wear the black one or the red one?" "whatever you'd like mc" "do you want to look like a bitch?" "rime—" "yes." "the red one" My Man 🤝

the kind of person to get more pissed off at an animal dying during a movie than a person . was probably rooting for it out of spite

rime....tattoos? sorry i need. sorry. like on his stomach . patchwork tattoos . sorry

sometimes he'll be doing something mundane and remember a time he was doing it with felix and you can see him frown

heehoo

his sadness and anger are very intertwined . they day he finally has a breakdown he's doing a maniacal laugh while crying out of disbelief and rage

if you hug him after he won't hug back (at first) but he'll press his face into your neck and just . stay there

anyway. he'd make you go on big rollercoasters/rides with him

don't take him to an escape room because he'll make you do all the work until the last minute where he tells you all the solutions that he's been keeping to himself.

spends so much time in CAS (create a sim) . like so much time. he finishes the sims and doesn't even play with them for more than 5 minutes unless he's doing a challenge

no he's so funny. he is the epitome of "my toxic trait is ____" and it's the stupidest shit. you take him to an aquarium and you see a mermaid show and he says "my toxic trait is that i know i could do that" and you're just !@$%?#(! your toxic trait is you commit murder you stupid whore

[scintillatingshortgirl19]

Loki’s Line About Betraying Everyone

I need to talk about this line (spoiler: I’m not happy about it). I was going to just include this in the full episode response post I’m working on, but it got long enough that I decided to make it its own.

First of all, here’s the full quote: "I betrayed everyone who ever loved me. I betrayed my father, my brother, my home. I know what I did. And I know why I did it. And that's not who I am anymore."

Y'all, I'm less emotional about it now but this line fucked me up when I first heard it. It hit me like a ton of bricks while watching the episode for the first time because I was actually doing fine and wasn't significantly bothered by anything up until that point, and then came that line and I suddenly almost felt physically ill. I actually wrote up a post about it that night but never posted it because it was essentially just a lot of screaming, so I've now taken pieces of that and formed a hopefully more coherent post (though it still contains a good amount of screaming). So, I get that the idea that Loki’s betrayed Thor over and over is a Commonly Accepted Thing. It's really a lot more complicated than that, and there are a lot of gray areas involved, but fine, I'll give them that one. But - when did Loki betray his father? When did Loki betray his home?? I’m not just mad about it, this is...a legitimate question. I mean with the father thing, I guess the only thing could be the nursing home in Ragnarok/taking the throne from him? Which is irrelevant anyway because this Loki didn’t do that and doesn't even know it happened in the main timeline?? And besides, it PALES, like, hilariously, in comparison to any one of multiple things Odin did to him before that (not counting any fanon here - just the canon things that we know of!) I am just so confused, especially about the betraying Asgard thing. WHEN? LITERALLY WHEN? Guys, there is no film in which that took place.

If I trusted the narrative, I would say the most logical thing to conclude - at least about the betraying Asgard part - is that this is a setup for Loki to later realize he actually saved Asgard by causing Ragnarok (because that's the closest thing I can think of to "betraying his home"), which could even tie into something about, idk, helping him realize he’s capable of being a hero? (or something) and it would be a good follow-up to the moment he found out about Ragnarok in episode 2, but...fuck, the way these lines were framed it really doesn't feel like anything like that is going to happen. I could be wrong, but these just didn't strike me as lines that are at any point going to be contradicted or even revisited.

And moving onto another part of the quote - "I know why I did it." Uh, I guess good for Loki for apparently knowing that...but the audience sure doesn't?? This is something we're just now being told and have not been shown at all?? I have a feeling Loki thinks he knows why but it unfortunately doesn't have anything to do with some of the biggest actual reasons, which are the abuses done to him that helped make him who he is. Even more unfortunately, I also have a feeling the creators are on roughly the same page as Loki here. So yeah, that's a real shame.

The core problem here seems to be where the writers are coming from, and @iamanartichoke worded it really well here, so I’m just going to quote her: “either the writing is being lazy by oversimplifying Loki’s motives, or it’s being deliberately misleading in order to retcon the character, or the writers genuinely believe that’s what happened, which implies a misunderstanding of Loki’s character kinda from the get-go - at least on what drives his villainy and what fuels his anger, which are pretty significant things.” I do think there’s a slight chance they were using Loki as an unreliable narrator here and the audience was supposed to pick up on the subtext (more on that at the end of this post), but I doubt it, and I think it’s very likely one or more of the options listed in the quote. 

Honestly, I can explain Loki's line about betrayal (and his general lack of acknowledgement of his own trauma/legit grievances against his family) pretty easily in-universe. It makes sense that Loki himself would frame things as him betraying everyone who's ever loved him as if they never did anything to wrong him first, or that he would try to ignore what Thanos did to him in favor of putting all the blame on himself (coping with his trauma and loss of control by denying it). Or hell, maybe he would even straight up subconsciously invent a betrayal that never even happened, like the one about his home. I can totally understand Loki seeing the events of his life that way! That all lines up with his complete lack of self-worth, and to have him 1) recognize his mistakes and take responsibility for them (which has happened at this point in the show), but then progress on to 2) realize he isn't solely to blame for literally everything, and 3) recognize the role of his family and others in understanding why he is the way he is - that would be a very satisfying arc and is the natural direction that the story should take in episode 6. The problem is, I don't think the show is going that way. I think we're either supposed to take it at face value that Loki did in fact betray everybody who ever loved him (as if Loki is a reliable narrator when he's most certainly an unreliable one), or the audience is supposed to figure out that Loki's an unreliable narrator here - but the latter won't work, because the creators have to follow through on that subtext at some point and actually do something to indicate that what Loki said wasn't 100% true, and it doesn't feel like they're going to. You can't expect your audience to put any weight on subtext or even pick up on it in the first place if you never actually confirm anything, and your audience won't know your narrator is unreliable unless you tell them. If Loki being an unreliable narrator in that specific moment was their intention, only a small subset of fans are going to pick up on it. So the way they're framing it so far, the audience is simply going to see it the same way Loki does and not realize it's incorrect. 

Unfortunately, as stated earlier, I think the most likely explanation is that the writers either don’t understand Loki, are being lazy, or are deliberately retconning. So while I take a degree of comfort in the in-universe explanation, it’s pretty damn infuriating to consider where the writer’s minds were probably at in reality, and how this set of lines is presenting Loki to the casual audience. 

Tagging @iamanartichoke and @delyth88 if you guys have any thoughts?

[lucycola]

Hey could you do a Spock X reader where she knows nothing about Vulcans and like keeps accidentally doing taboo things e.g touching hands or touching his ears

I thoroughly enjoyed writing this! I accidentally made it gender neutral, because I forgot what pronouns, you used. I’m sorry! I hope you like it.

WARNINGS: Fluff, affection, ignorance of affection in Vulcan culture idk. Maybe Spock is slightly OOC but who cares. I took a little liberty of giving the reader a pinch of background.

To say you were oblivious was an understatement. You weren’t a complete idiot, or anything, just innocently scatterbrained. Perhaps that was the explanation why you didn’t flinch when every you were chastised for a mistake or given a strict order by your commanding officer. As a blue shirt, you fell under the command of the Enterprise’s first officer, and his reputation as a stony, unfeeling, authoritarian preceded him. You were never bothered by this. He was most terrifying, others noted, when Captain Kirk left him in charge when unable to take the chair. You were warned about him-to never cross him and always do exactly as he said. Spock was a hard-ass. He was handsome and perhaps at first you wondered, but it had been made clear to by others he wasn’t interested in anyone.

You had met more terrifying people. You had nine brothers and a strict, often unfair and bully of a father. Commander Spock was a piece of cake. It was in your nature to be gentle, welcoming, and comforting despite the constitution of your upbringing. It was your personality. You didn’t like to let people bring you down.

You were elated alone to be living your dream, anyway. You weren’t going to let the attitude of anyone around you affect your nature or happiness.

You obviously didn’t know anything about Vulcans either.

The first touch was accidental. It always is.

You never took the Vulcan to be clumsy, but on one occasion while discussing your current assignment in passing he dropped his holotape. You both reached  for it, and in a cliché manner brushed hands. While your boss pulled away, you did not and picked up the tape.

“Here ya go!” You cheerily patted the tape in his hand for good measure, “I’ll have that report in the morning like you’ve requested, sir.”

Bypassers gawked as you cheerily skipped away. Your commanding officer only quirked a brow and went on his way.

The next time was less on purpose and more out of your kindness as your commander internally lamented about his captain’s safety during an emergency situation. He had donned the chair and even while appearing composed and direct you had an eye for spotting worry in well kept men. In an brief moment you pressed your hand to his wrist and said softly, “He will be okay. You’ll make sure of it.”

He tensed under your touch and you removed your hand a smiled.

“Report to your station, Ensign,” he said in his usual tone, no hint of distaste or approval in his voice.

“Yes sir.”

The third time was even worse. Somehow you had been suckered to prompting Spock by Doctor McCoy into reporting to an impromptu physical. Confidentiality be damned, the Vulcan’s stress levels were unusually high and it was affecting his demeanor. You accidentally overheard the nurse and the doctor whispering something perhaps about pon farr happening again, but no it hadn’t been seven years yet. Whatever that was.

“I don’t think he’ll listen to me, but if you say it’s important, I’ll try.”

“You’re his favorite, so you’re my best bet.”

“Mister Spock doesn’t have favorites,” you laughed, “But I’ll do it anyway. Someone has to draw the shortest straw. I never mind it being me.”

“Thankyou, Ensign. And good luck.”

You skipped along to the your commander’s quarters. You had never been inside and only rarely had delivered your reports to him in person when requested. He couldn’t always come to you and that was understandable.

At the chime the door slid open and though it was subtle, your boss clearly wasn’t expecting you.

“Hello, Mister Spock,” you greeted, “Doctor McCoy-”

“I am aware of the doctor’s request. As it is not mandatory  I do not find it necessary to attend.”

It wasn’t like him to interrupt you. He was tense and though he stood perfectly erect like a statue there was a little shake in his right hand. Without thinking, you grasped it to still the quiver.

“Are you alright?”

Many would expect his to snatch it away, but he didn’t and stood there. If he was caught off guard, it wasn’t apparent. His expression was unmoving and his eye contact never wavered.

“I am fine, Ensign. Report back to your duties.”

“Doctor McCoy said it was important.”

“I am not here to entertain the doctor’s every illogical human whim.” He pulled his hand away, “There is no empirical evidence to suggest I am ill.”

“You’re shivering.” You put your hands on your hip and gave him the most mothering look you could muster.

“Multiple factors such as the natural low temperature of deep space can illicit such a reaction,” he retorted.

“It’s broiling in your cabin, Mister Spock. Only people with fevers do things like that.”

“Humans, Ensign. Humans,” he corrected, “I deduce you are not aware of Vulcan biology or customs.”

“Please don’t lie to me,” you requested softly, “How am I supposed to work efficiently under an ill commanding officer?”

The way you spoke nearly convinced him to do your bidding, but still he remained stubborn.

“I do not comprehend how that would deter your work efficiency.”

You grabbed his hand again, “I am going to worry myself to death if you really are ill and you’re just trying to act like you’re alright. That will keep me from working like I’m supposed to. Efficient crew needs an efficient captain.” You winked at him.

“But Captain Kirk-”

“It’s a metaphor, Mister Spock. Now please come so the doctor can stop paging me and I can work on my report concerning the Althenian plant’s healing properties and various uses from its sap.”

“I yield,” he said after a small beat and without releasing your hand, followed you to the medbay. More people inwardly gawked watching to drag him down the hall. His face was tense, albeit slightly amused.

After reaching your destination you waved him and the doctor off sweetly and made your way back to the lab. You heart wrapped around the thought of him being ill and you hid that worry ill. A little heat bloomed in your chest at his previous touch. You brushed it away. No, you told yourself.

The doctor was only a little surprised. His suspicions were confirmed.

“I had my doubts at first, Spock, but now I see it’s true.”

“Despite Vulcan’s telepathic abilities, I cannot automatically read your mind. Elaborate, Doctor.”

The doctor chucked, “That ensign is your favorite.”

“I do not understand.”

“Who else could have convinced you to come here to let me scan you? Probably not even Jim-”

“I am inclined to follow the captain’s every order.”

“You don’t let anyone touch you like that. Especially not for a long time. If I’m not mistaken you two were practically kiss-”

“That will be enough elaboration, doctor. Please proceed with your medical assessment, as I have much work to attend to.”

The doctor chuckled again. “It’s too bad I can’t tell with that one. They act like that towards everyone.”

“Everyone,” Spock repeated flatly although it was intended to be a question.

“Sweetest soul I’ve ever met. Lights up a room as soon as they enter it.”

“Indeed,” Spock nodded, familiar with the colloquialism.

The doctor’s eyebrows raised and he grinned, “I knew it.”

You of course were oblivious to all of this as you continued through your work, happy as a clam.

After some deliberation one of your coworkers decided to explain the delicacies of Vulcan culture after viewing a friendly hand grasp as a greeting between you and your commanding officer. You were elated to see his shivering had stopped and once again he tensed under the touch, but nodded his head at your greeting. You had blushed while doing so. It was sweet, but your coworker had to break it to you as they had before when warning you last time about him not being interested in anyone.

“Vulcans don’t like to be touched, you know,” they said to you, taking you aside.

“What do you mean?”

“They’re very sensitive to skin to skin contact. They guard themselves mostly, but hand touching is extremely taboo the way kissing in public or other sexual acts are.”

“You mean...” you blushed, “I’ve been--! I hope he’s not offended.”

“Normally he’s not afraid to explain things or clear up-“ you coworker coughed,”-unwanted affection. I’ve seen plenty girls get a talking down to.”

“What are you saying?”

“Perhaps he’s forcing himself to be polite.”

“Oh, I’ve got to apologize right away!”

You felt so stupid! How could you be so offensive to him or his culture? You should have read up on his customs before truly interacting with him. It would seem like a smart thing to do-but you were so lost to the world it was embarrassing.

You paused in front of his door for the first time in your life, afraid to speak to him.

The door open quickly and you stepped back, surprised. He had looked like he had been going to leave and you sheepishly smiled, “I’m sorry for interrupting you, sir. I need to speak to you.”

“Come inside.”

You blushed at the request, wringing your hands as you entered.

You turned to him and blurted, “I had no idea what I was doing, sir, I swear. Had I known that touching you was wrong I would stop. I’m so used to being touchy-feely on Earth I forgot that not everyone-”

“Ensign,” he said firmly.

“Yes?” you squeaked.

“Had those interactions provoked me I would have made it known. I should be the one offering an apology. I should have explained what such interactions mean on Vulcan before anyone else claimed the opportunity. I assume someone took the liberty of doing so.”

“Yessir. I’m sorry.”

“Do not apologize.”

“Why not?’

“Because your actions did not provoke me, but precisely did the opposite.”

“What-what do you mean?” Your face was fully red and you obscured it with your hands. He let out a sound that was the closest Vulcan thing as a sigh and stepped closed to you.

He grasped your hands and lowered them from your face. His eyes were soft and the most vulnerable as you had every seen them.

He pressed his right hand that was shivering terribly to the side of your face. It stilled instantly.

“I am aware of your affection for me and I return the sentiment.”

You couldn’t find your voice and after a long moment of studying your features he leaned down to give you a kiss, warm and firm.

You gasped into his lips and pressed back.

He released you and you looked at him starry eyed.

“So it was true, what the doctor said, you said in a hushed tone.

Spock’s arms were around you gently, “Elaborate.”

“I am your favorite.”

“Affirmative.”

FIN

[talesofesther]

Anchor - Part 11

Five Hargreeves x Reader

Masterlist with the other parts

See part one for important notes

A/N: Alright, this part is long, so read it with time hahah. Anyway I guess this is one of my favorites?? idk, I think I like how it turned out. However, I reeeeally hope that Five is not too off his character here and that I didn't rush too much!? Like everything that I write, I didn't exactly plan for this part to turn out like this kdjsjkds, but I hope you guys like it and that it fits both the whole series and Five's personality. Also, I'm a B*tch for Five getting comfort... So yeah. If you wanna be added to the tag list, let me know. ♥

Gravel cracked beneath Five's feet as he exited the car, they parked a little far away from the Consulate just so nobody would notice their arrival. Putting his hands on the pockets of his pants, Five eyed Y/N's form walking in front of him, she was happily chatting with Lila with an adorable smile on her face. His troubled expression softened for a moment, he was still calming down from what happened earlier. Could I really be... Falling for her? The mere thought of it terrified him.

But before Five was able to make himself fully panic again, Diego popped up beside him. "Nice outfit"

"Shush" Five mumbled to him, his mind still partially clouded by his dangerous assumptions.

Diego's eyes slowly followed Five's line of sight, and seeing the subject of his attention, he wondered "You like her, don't you?" His voice wasn't teasing anymore, it was understanding and genuinely curious. He looked down at his brother with an almost caring gaze.

Five scoffed, like that was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. "That's... No, of course not" but his voice wavered, and he didn't trust his eyes to hold what he had just said.

"Well, if you did... I think there was a big chance that she might like you too" the man patted Five's shoulder and stepped ahead to walk beside Lila, leaving Five behind with a thundering heart and sweaty hands. No. She would never like someone like me. The boy thought to himself, and yet he couldn't help the tiny sparkle of hope that had already been lit inside his lonely heart.

Eventually they finally walked up to the huge mansion of the Mexican Consulate, in which the Gala was being held, the place looked almost intimidating. Its big stone walls and luxurious windows and structure made it look almost like a castle, powerful people were arriving non-stop and there were guards everywhere.

Y/N, Lila, Diego and Five somehow managed to sneak their way in, unnoticed. And if the outside was already extravagant, the inside of the Consulate was breathtaking. A big chandelier graced the ceiling of the entrance, all the decorations and paintings hanging around just screamed richness. There was even a whole mexican band inside the place, and a big table full of snacks and champagne.

"Thank god we dressed appropriately, look at all these people" Y/N said as she slowly made her way inside, looking at the people who were already inside as well, one dressed fancier than the other. The girl mindlessly grabbed a glass of champagne from one of the waitresses who were passing by.

Five did the same, if anything just to keep his hands busy. He was twitchy and anxious, both for the fact that he would see his father soon, but also because of what happened with Y/N back at Elliott's place just a couple of minutes ago. Five wondered how the girl was able to remain so calm all the time, while he was there almost losing his mind.

"I don't see dad anywhere" Diego said as everyone stopped to analyze their surroundings.

"Just keep an eye out for the majestic twelve. Y/N and I got the upstairs" Five said while looking around at the many people who were walking about and dancing to the music. His eyebrows were knitted together in concentration, one hand in his pocket and the other holding his glass of champagne.

Finishing her drink, Y/N settled her glass down on the table behind them and followed Five upstairs. Moving her heels from side to side to avoid bumping into the crowd of people.

Five disposed of his glass and walked up the rounded staircase, only giving a side glance behind him to check if Y/N was still following. As they went up, the music from the band started to sound quieter and quieter, until it was just a faint noise and the only sound was from their footsteps. Even the corridors of the mansion were fancy looking, with beautifully drawn wallpapers and some expensive decorations here and there.

Y/N couldn't ignore the twirling of her stomach as she took slow steps behind Five. Regardless of the cheerful aura of the gala, the people here seemed weirdly skeptical, plus they were looking for Five's father again. It all pieced together made Y/N feel very out of place.

"What do you plan to do when you find him?" Y/N asked gently. After whatever it was that happened back at Elliot's with Five, the girl felt a pang of nervousness on her gut when talking to him. Whether it was for how incredibly close they got or because of the immediate change of Five's behavior when Diego came in, she couldn't tell. But it made her very aware of how attached she became to the boy.

Five stopped on his tracks and turned around to look at Y/N, it was hard to ignore the wave of feelings that surged through him whenever he met those eyes, but he did his best to keep his face neutral. "I'm not sure, but I want to know what he's planning"

Just when Five finished talking, he noticed one of the doors ahead of him start to open. In a quick movement, the boy grabbed Y/N's wrist and pulled her inside the room to his left so the people couldn't see them.

Y/N let out a squeak of surprise when Five pulled her body to the side out of nowhere. Next thing she knew there was a hand clasped over her mouth to prevent her from making further noises.

Five covered her mouth as quickly and as gently as he could, but standing so close to her again, he didn't fail to notice how Y/N's whole body became rigid and her eyes widened as he yanked her body, even if she relaxed not even a second after. Slowly removing his hand from her mouth, Five furrowed his brows and felt his breathing getting heavy. Did I scare her? The thought felt like a bullet to the heart. Sure, maybe his movements were a little sudden and violent, but he had to be quick. But she didn't... Didn't think that I would hurt her, right? Five desperately asked himself, but there was no answer, the only thing he could hear was the frantic beating of his heart.

Y/N noticed the door moving, she noticed the people that were about to pass through it and see them. But she wasn't expecting Five to grab her like that, he never does that. And to have him standing millimeters away from her with his hand on her face just the next second, made her whole body tense in nervousness and blood rush to her cheeks. Luckily the room was dark and he wasn't able to notice that last detail. As soon as his soft hand moved away from her, Y/N let out a soft shaky breath and peeked outside to see if the people were gone.

"T- they entered a room. Do you think that was them?" The girl said, doing her best to keep her voice steady.

"Probably" Five muttered without meeting her eyes and already walking back outside.

Stepping ahead to look at the room the people just entered, Five fidgeted with his hands and forced his mind to focus on the matter at hand. With his head hung low, he extended his hand for Y/N to take, even if it was slightly shaking.

The girl looked at Five as if he was a puzzle that was impossible to crack, and he often was. With careful movements, her hand closes around his own, but her face was contorted in confusion. "What is it?"

"Just... Try to keep quiet" came the soft whisper from Five, and the next thing Y/N knew, she was feeling like the atoms on her body were being pulled through space without her consent, making her feel incredibly nauseated. The girl blinked and saw herself inside a dark closet, ahead of her stood the men she saw just a moment ago, they were talking. If it wasn't for Five's hand closed tightly around her own, she feared she would have fallen. Gulping down her words, Y/N just mouthed 'dammit'.

Five was tense, Y/N could feel it in his grip. "The president is continuing to make inquiries into Roswell and the other crash sites, gentlemen. And as you know, we cannot allow him to get his nose into our business. I've confirmed the motorcade will indeed be turning left on Elm Street, we'll have our people in place" said one of the men in the room, he had a suspicious demeanor and was wearing sunglasses.

Both of them were intently listening and watching through the cracks of the closet when another man said "Gentlemen, this plan of yours seems ill-timed" was that..?

Before Y/N could finish her line of thought, she heard Five bumping into one of the hangers and making noise. She turned to look at him with an expression that said 'are you kidding me?!?'

The man that was just talking seemed to have listened to Five as well, he grabbed a metal stick and slowly walked up to the closet they were in. Y/N's eyes widened in fear and she vigorously shook Five's hand urging him to get them out of there. Just as the man was about to stab them, Five teleported them out.

Y/N braced herself on the corridor walls, regaining her breath both from almost being discovered and from the nausea swimming in her stomach. "Was that your-" the girl couldn't complete her sentence because a strong punch to her head sent her to the ground and blurred her vision, making her let out a grunt of pain.

Y/N slowly raised her hand to her head and where the pain was, feeling something wet there. Still on the ground, she turned around and blinked several times to try and focus her eyes. She could hear people fighting and see a black figure being slammed into the walls, probably Five.

Making her body work again, Y/N braced her hands on the floor and got up on her wobbly feet. Now that she could see clearly, a big man with white hair and a white blazer was punching Five. The boy was being beaten several times on his abdomen and face, feeling her heart clench at the scene in front of her, Y/N moved as fast as she could towards Five.

With a swift movement, Y/N kicked the man just behind his knee, taking his attention away from Five. When he turned around to beat the girl again, she skillfully ducked and gave him a punch on his throat. That gave her a couple of seconds to grab one of the paintings off the wall and strike his head with it.

But Y/N’s eyes went wide again when even with blood coming out of his temple, the man turned around and grabbed her by the neck. He easily lifted Y/N from the ground and squeezed her neck like it was nothing. The girl was already choking on her own breathing while she punched and kicked him to try and make him let her go, but he was much stronger than her.

If it wasn't for Lila jumping in and kicking the big man in the face, Y/N was almost sure she would be dead, she was already seeing black dots in her vision. The girl fell to the ground with her body being partially limp, clutching at the carpet beneath her as a means to ground herself while she took erratic breaths to fill her lungs again.

Everything happened in less than ten seconds, Five only had the time to get up from the ground himself and see Y/N almost dying in front of his eyes when Lila came in to help. Rushing beside the girl, he helped her up in a sitting position, one of his hands was holding her shoulder as the other came up to her cheek. He could already see the harsh bruises forming around her throat. "Hey, you okay?" Five asked with his voice on edge and filled with concern.

Y/N just nodded at him, clutching the fabric of her dress in her chest as if it would somehow make the air come faster to her lungs. She didn't feel like she could talk just yet, even if she wanted to. Seeing an opportunity when Lila knocked the man down, Five jumped to his feet and threw him out the window. He was finally gone, Y/N closed her eyes and laid her head back against the wall in relief.

Slowly getting up yet again, Y/N looked out the window and saw that all the guests from the gala were leaving, and with them, was who she presumed was Five's father. "Five" Y/N's small voice cracked and she coughed soon after, but she managed to get the boy's attention.

When Five looked out the window to what Y/N was pointing, he only clasped her hand in his again and teleported them outside.

________

After Five managed to shout something in Greek to his father and send Lila away saying he would kill her if he saw her again, which Y/N tried to convince him otherwise but he was pretty insistent on the matter, they were finally back at Elliott's place.

"Is that...?" Diego mumbled as he looked at Luther and Elliot who were passed out on the couch.

Five sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Luther"

Diego scoffed with a small smirk on his face. "Okay, I'm gonna go lay down. I'm tired" he said as he made his way out. But Y/N thought he looked more melancholic than tired.

The girl let out an exhausted breath and ran a hand through her hair, hissing in pain when she accidentally touched the area that the man had punched her in. "Uh what a night" Y/N grumbled. Right now the dress and makeup she was wearing only increased her discomfort, and all she wanted was to take a shower and get rid of those clothes.

Five shot her an apologetic glance, he felt guilty for even letting her get hurt. But he didn't make any moves towards her or said anything, the way she reacted to that earlier was still pretty vivid in his memory.

With slow strides, Y/N made her way to the closest bathroom. Luckily for them, Elliott had two, well one of them was a proper bathroom, the other one was just a tiny excuse for one, but it had a shower. Stopping midway, the girl turned back towards Five. "Who were those guys anyway? Why do they wanna kill us?"

"Commission muscle, we don't belong in this timeline so they sent those guys to take us out. Just another reason to get out of here faster" Five said with a low voice, for once his brows weren't pinched together. His hands were resting on his pockets and his shoulders were slumped, he looked genuinely tired.

Five's big eyes were gazing at Y/N with a different kind of sorrow, he was looking for something. She licked her lips in nervousness and slowly approached him. The silence in the room was far from comfortable. Y/N could hear the sound of her high heels colliding with the floor, she stopped just outside Five's personal space. Gulping down any insecurities, the girl raised her hand and brushed away a single drop of blood that was resting on Five's cheek, she could already see a bruise forming there.

"I'm gonna take a shower, you should too, relax a little. Then you can wait for me in the guest room" Y/N’s voice was gentle and stood just above a whisper. With a little smile, she turned back around and walked the rest of the way towards the small bathroom.

Y/N sighed in relief as she removed her dress and untied her hair. Turning on the shower, the sound of the water colliding with the tiles was almost soothing. The girl took her time to try and relax under the warm water, washing her hair, she could see the red water painting the white floor of the bathroom. Getting out, Y/N felt ten times lighter. She put on her pajamas and made her way to Elliott's spare room.

The room wasn't big, but it felt cozy. Like the rest of the place, the illuminating wasn't the best, but there was a big double bed in the middle. Five was sitting there, waiting, his chest steadily rising and falling as he looked at nothing but thought about everything. The sight of him made Y/N smile, his hair was dripping wet from the shower and he was wearing a long-sleeved shirt and pants that were just a tad too big for him. Probably borrowed from Elliott's closet, Y/N figured.

"Hey, feeling better?" the girl entered the room and made her way to sit beside Five on the comfy bed, their shoulders touching.

"Sure" the boy mumbled to her, his head was low, looking down at his feet.

"What's wrong Five?" Y/N's voice was nothing but a whisper. She could sense there was something bothering him, and she had a feeling it had nothing to do with his father. This was different, he was different.

Five turned his head away from her and looked at the wall beside him, an unamused smile on his face. "It's nothing" his voice was even lower than hers.

The instant burning of tears behind his eyes when Y/N gingerly took his hand on hers was undeniable. But he didn't have the strength to pull his hand away from her, his body wanted her touch way too much. "Diego said something..." Five started, his eyes still looking away, not wanting to recognize his own vulnerability.

The gentle movement of Y/N's thumb at the back of his hand urged him to continue. "I- I think he's right... But I don't know how to deal with-" Five choked on his own words as the first tear made its way down his cheek, and then another, and another.

"Hey, it's okay" Y/N raised her other hand to his face and made him look at her, her touch already brushing away some of his tears. "Whatever it is, I know you'll figure it out. Besides, I'm always here to help if you need it" she smiled kindly at him and couldn't stop herself from planting a sweet kiss on his forehead. Her heart clenching at the sight of him so lost and troubled.

Five felt his heart almost beat out of his chest when Y/N's lips met his skin, a shiver ran through his whole body. His bright eyes fluttering halfway closed in a mix of delight and relief.

Moving her hand down, Y/N saw a dark bruise covering his left cheek, wondering for a moment what other bruises his clothes were hiding. "You're hurt"

Five's eyes fully opened again and landed on the girl's neck. His stomach twisting at the harsh dark spots covering her throat. "You are too"

Y/N's lips formed a half-smile, as she tilted her head to the boy in front of her. Could he just try and care about himself for once? "Not as much as you" something inside Y/N told her that she wasn't talking about the visible bruises anymore. "Let me help"

Five's eyes were tired and glossy, but they regarded Y/N with something akin to both sorrow and want. Five only gives her a gentle nod, surrendering to both his needs and her wishes.

Getting up from her place on the bed with a soft blush on her cheeks, Y/N made her way to the kitchen to grab some ice and anything else that might help.

The boy's eyes stayed glued to the door from the moment Y/N left until she walked back in. The fear of being alone tugged at his stomach once she was gone, and when she came back to him, new tears clouded his sight.

"I found some painkillers" Y/N sat back down with a smile and handed Five a glass of water and some pills. Only at the mention of pain, that Five acknowledged how much the bruises on his abdomen were aching. He quickly gulped down the pills.

"Okay, raise your shirt" the girl said as the blood rushed to her cheeks, she tried to avoid Five's eyes at the moment.

With his breath partially stuck on his throat, Five timidly raised his shirt up to his chest, revealing a bunch of dark purple areas around his stomach and even some cuts here and there.

"Oh Five" Y/N sighed at the sight of his bruised body, it didn't feel right for him to be this hurt, neither outside nor inside. She tended to his wounds at the best of her abilities, she didn't fail to notice that Five would slightly shiver and his breath would hitch whenever her fingers accidentally brushed on his skin. He looked uncharacteristically small right now, with his body covered in injuries and his eyes red and puffy as he looked at Y/N almost seeming like he was asking to be cared for.

"Where did you learn to fight like that?" Five's quiet voice echoed through the room when Y/N finished her work on him. He carefully put his shirt down, intently looking at her face as he tried not to dwell too much on what had just happened between them. How she once again tore down his walls like they were nothing. For a split second, Five wondered if it would be too selfish to just... Let her, just admit that he wanted all of this. But he soon stopped his own line of thought.

Y/N chuckled to him, her hands cradled in her lap. "My aunt always made sure I was able to defend myself, she taught me the basics of what she knew"

Five only nodded at her, thinking back at how the way she moved was so familiar.

The room fell silent once again, Y/N's eyes drifted down to the clock on the bedside table, then back up at Five's eyes that were fighting to stay open. "It's late, I think you should rest. I'll take the couch"

Five's eyes shot up to look at her as he was already vigorously shaking his head in protest. "No, Luther is passed out on the couch. You can sleep here"

The girl got up from the bed and crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at him. "And where are you going to sleep?"

Five's mouth opened and closed in search of words. "I'll just... Lay down in one of the armchairs" the boy shrugged.

"Not in that state, you won't. Won't let you" Y/N sounded almost like she was scolding him.

"Well, I- I won't let you either" Five stuttered with an unsure tone. Sometimes he felt like Y/N could convince him to do almost anything, but he didn't want her sleeping like that.

Y/N looked around the room with a blush creeping up on her cheeks. "Then... I guess we'll have to share it"

Five's eyes went wide and his cheeks became rosy as well at the thought of sleeping beside the girl. He could already feel his hands start to tremble and his heart speeding up the pace from nervousness, but it didn't seem like he had much of a choice.

Turning off the lights, Y/N laid down on the bed beside Five. His tenseness was almost palpable, the boy was laying on the very edge of his side of the bed, his hand gripping the sheets to try to relieve some of his stress. "Relax, I don't bite" Y/N tried to lighten his mood.

But that only caused Five to feel angry at himself for not being able to control his emotions. "I'm not used to this" he whispered back at her without thinking much.

"Not being alone?" Y/N laid on her side, looking at the back of Five's head.

"Yeah... That" the boy sighed, if not being alone was the only thing bothering him, he'd be happy.

"I can leave..."

"Please don't" it was just a quiet plea, but to Y/N, Five's voice made it seem like he was begging for her to never leave.

"Okay, I won't" she whispered back at him with a small smile. Reaching her hand forward, the girl gently ran her fingers through Five's soft hair in a soothing manner. "Goodnight Five"

Five's eyes closed and a pleased noise escaped his mouth at the feeling of her fingers massaging his scalp. He was already painfully aware that it would be a nightmare to live even through one mere day without that sweet touch. "Goodnight"

It had probably passed not more than three hours when Y/N was suddenly taken away from her sleep. Her eyes slowly opened and adjusted to the darkness of the room, she could feel Five moving beside her, quiet whimpers coming from him every now and again. That's probably what woke her up.

Turning to his side, with the only light coming from the moon outside, Y/N couldn't see much, but she noticed the deep and troubled frown on Five's face that just shouldn't be there. His breathing was frantic and he was sweating, sometimes his body would involuntarily move like it was trying to run away from something painful.

It didn't take a genius to know that the poor boy was having a nightmare, and a really bad one it seemed. Y/N thought about waking him up, but she knew from experience that it was almost impossible to go back to sleep after something like that happened, and Five needed the sleep.

So she gently took hold of one of his hands that were stretched towards her, careful to not wake him up. And with her other arm, she brought Five close to her by encircling his waist. It was no mystery anymore that he hated to feel alone. "You're okay. I'm here. You're not alone" she whispered quietly in his ear like a mantra until he calmed down and his features were almost fully relaxed again.

Five's body seemed to subconsciously gravitate towards her own once he was sleeping peacefully again. Y/N smiled and gingerly planted a kiss on his nose. She had no idea what he would do once he woke up like this, but she didn't let go of him during the entire night.

***

Thank you for reading ♥ the next part should be out soon. And if you have any idea about how this story should progress or anything you would like to see in it, please send me an ask or message and I’d be happy to include it. All opinions and feedback are appreciated ♥

Taglist

@alexander-hamilhoe @noneyeahbusiness @anapocalypseinmymind @yikes-matey @vicfull @flowertoty @shlokage @flaminghotcheetoos @moneyyhoneyyy @n1ghtsh4d3-67 @nappinggecko @megasimpleplan4ever​ @peterbeans​ @greeknerd007​ @my-things-things​ @malfovs​ @sweetjellytine​ @soft-slytherin-sweetie​ @marylimlp​ @lunna-does-real-doodle​ @sauberwisch96​ @weepingplaidhoundpanda​ @tired-of-this-shit​ @moatsnow​ @yourbloodyqueen​

[sunsetsover]

"I swear half this fandom don't actually like Ben" lmao true! Thing is though he's not likeable all the time and he can be a right old dick. But personally even if I don't like him or his actions at certain times, I feel like the broader picture is still there and I root for him because I get why he's like he is? And I can see and appreciate the softer sides of him even if they're fairly well hidden at times.

I also think some people in the fandom intellectually understand that he's traumatised and a survivor of various abuses, and when that shows in certain ways e.g. like if Callum or Lola is comforting while he's crying. But when it comes to situations like this week with Jags and Whitney, I personally think some people have struggled to understand how his trauma connects to it because it's not as obvious as e.g. Whitney's fiance dies, Gray manipulates her, bish bash bosh hit and run. Even more broadly I think it's easy for the audience to underestimate how Ben's experiences have shaped him because there's a distance created by time, his criminal actions, his (un)likeability factor, not viewing Phil as an abusive parent etc.

I don't wanna say everyone criticising him is like that btw! I'm sure there's a few reasons but I think this plays a part tbh.

i get what you're saying but to me it's like.... why would you even waste so much time invested into someone you don't like most of the time. i genuinely don't get it. ppl tend to ship ballum but hate ben AND hate the majority of the sls lately and it's like.... it's 2021 bro it's not like gay couples are THAT rare anymore there is so much media out there if you're not enjoying what ee are doing then you literally do not have to watch. in fact im BEGGING you for your sake not to. literally just do not engage with media that you aren't enjoying. do not sit in your own negativity writing 20 posts a day abt 'why are they doing this? why don't they do that? if they did this i would enjoy it more' bc you're only making yourself miserable. like this goes for any type of media but literally just stop engaging w it if you're not enjoying it anymore. the think pieces don't help anyone. your opinions aren't universal and they aren't gospel. we all need to stop confusing our opinions w facts. just bc i'm not enjoying smth doesn't mean other ppl aren't and vice versa. just bc i'm not enjoying smth doesn't mean that the thing needs to change. eg i hate the fact that callum is a copper and pray every day that something will force him out of it BUT it doesn't really affect my overall enjoyment of him as a character and it doesn't mean that the show has to make him quit just bc i don't like it. you (the royal you not u specifically anon lmao) might hate the fact that ben still does illegal stuff but that doesn't mean the show has to make him stop just bc you don't like it. if it affects how much you enjoy him as a character/ben and callum as a couple then maybe consider stopping watching. festering in the energy of 'i hate this, i hate what they're doing and here's 1200 words why' is unhealthy! i learned this the hard way !

i know this seems like an irrelevant ramble but i think i've realized that this is what my issue is. ppl not understanding trauma is frustrating and damaging and still pisses me off, but i feel like what actually pisses me off more are the ppl who just don't even attempt to be understanding bc underneath it all they're angry/frustrated at the show/sls and that's how it manifests itself. ppl don't like the direction ben and/or callum are going in and so the minute they (and it's usually ben lbr) step out of line they JUMP on that as an excuse to vent their frustrations and often end up saying shit that is ignorant or damaging or mean or just straight up cruel abt things that are so often symptoms of mental illness or trauma. so they're out here posting so many things and making these cruel little comments bc they can't just acknowledge that they don't actually like ballum anymore meanwhile ppl who are actually disabled/mentally ill/traumatised are sitting there reading all of these things and seeing all the people agreeing w them and it's doing real life damage to people.

is it on purpose? probably not. but that doesn't make the damage any less real. i have never forgotten or forgiven the way ppl reacted after ben went deaf. it was vile. as a disabled person who reacted very badly to being disabled just like ben did, it genuinely fucked me in the head seeing what ppl said abt him during that time. now i understand that it was partially ignorance but also a big chunk of it was ppl being unhappy bc they thought they wouldn't be able to enjoy their ship anymore bc ben was disabled (not that he hadn't been disabled before, but now it wasn't ignorable anymore).

idk there's more i could say but i feel like it's pointless. ppl don't care lmao all they care abt is their ship. which, ok fine whatever, but stop letting ur mentally ill/traumatised/disabled followers get caught in the crossfire bc you can't just admit you're not enjoying it anymore and feel the need to tear the thing down and rant about how it's 'bad writing' or 'out of character' etc etc. it's frustrating to read (which is why im never on here anymore) and speaking from experience it hurts YOU in the long run. negativity breeds more negativity.

you don't need to make excuses! just let it go! find something that does make you happy! you deserve that! and we deserve to be able to enjoy something without seeing ppl tearing it (or worse - us) down every 5 minutes !!

(edit - to clarify anon none of this was aimed at you i just sort of started ranting and didn't even really answer ur question im sorry !! i get what ur saying tho lmao 💞💞💞)

[ethvn-torchio]

jo cleans out her google docs pt 1 | a steggy WIP that may or may not be finished

a/n: hello 😌 i am in the process of cleaning out my google docs and found this 😌 idk if ill finish it bc its kinda trash and pretty messily written (i tried to clean it up but got lazy) but here ya go. Please enjoy the following badly written fluff 😌✌

Word count: 788 (hella unedited)

“Steve,” she groans. “The alarm.”

She can hear him fumble for a second before she hears a concerningly smashed noise come from the clock.

“Did...did you just…?” 

“I, uh…” he shifts, and she can see him crane his neck to see. “Yep. It’s broken,”

“...This is the third time in two months that you’ve broken an alarm clock.”

“Yeah, I know,” he replies with a sigh.

They sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes, before, "Didn't we have something to do today?" Steve asks.

Peggy groans. "I was hoping you would've forgotten. We were finally going to put up that porch swing now that it's finally warm outside."

"We have been putting it off for a couple of weeks, now."

They both laugh, and Peggy pulls him into a kiss, closing her eyes.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're trying to seduce me, Captain Rogers," Peggy says, eyebrow raised.

"Who, me? Never. 'sides, you already married me."

"That shouldn't stop you from trying, Steven."

Seemingly taking that little comment as a personal challenge, his lips ghost over her neck and shoulders, making her shiver.

She can feel his smile against her skin, and each gentle kiss against the nape of her neck sends shivers up her spine.

"As much as I appreciate it, you do know that if we keep going, we won't get to that porch swing for a while. And I hate to break it to you, Darling, but you have morning breath." 

"...Fair point." he coincides, kissing her lips one last time, before getting out of bed. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go brush my teeth," he gives her a small, playful salute before making his way to the bathroom.

"Dramatic!" she tuts. 

Once she makes it to the kitchen, she notices that it's beginning to rain. 

Sighing to herself, she prepares the tea kettle for a cup of tea. Truly, there was nothing better than tea on a rainy day. 

Nothing at all.

He comes back to the kitchen, kisses Peggy on the cheek, and helps her to clean the dishes from last night's dinner.

After they finish the last of the dishes and tea has been made, they sit down together at the table for breakfast.

"So," she says, breaking the silence. "It's raining cats and dogs out there. Do you still want to put up the swing?" 

Steve glances out the window. "I don't care about rain if you don't," he replies honestly. 

Peggy stirs her tea absentmindedly before taking a sip. "Well, I still want it up, so let's go."

-insert more plot-

“Surely, we, as two capable adults, can handle a porch swing.” Peggy muses, reading over the deceivingly simple instructions.

“Sounds easy enough,” Steve says. “You just have to screw the arms on, then attach the chain part to the top.”

Peggy nods. 

-insert stuff that i just didn’t write-

“Well, I do know th-”

“You know nothing,” she interrupts. “You’re supposed to attach that there.”

Steve snorts at that, muttering something about a game about thrones. 

"Let me try," Peggy gets up, getting down on her knees to reattempt to figure out where the pieces actually go. 

Steve steps backward, watching over her shoulder. "Don't you at least need-"

“Nope,” she mutters stubbornly, trying to force the rather large, decorative piece of ornamental iron into the wood of the arm. The wood breaks a little upon her attempt, and she rolls her eyes. 

Steve’s already snickering by the time she looks back up at him.

Peggy glares at him. “Please, you’re no help.”

He raises his hands in defense. “I’m just standing here, Peg.”

“Like that makes it any better.” she huffs. 

"How about I just go inside to grab lunch, and then we'll figure this out when we're done eating?" Steve suggests. 

"Sure," Peggy answers him, unceremoniously tossing the piece she was working on the ground. “I think my mind needs a break from this swing.” 

"What are you feeling like today? We kind of need to go grocery shopping, so...we don't have much." Steve says, rummaging through the cabinets. 

"We have canned soup," she says, bringing out a pot. "Sound good?"

"What kind?" 

Peggy turns the can over, making a face. "Blegh, cream of mushroom." she hands the can to Steve regardless.

"At least it's not tomato soup," Steve sighs, dumping the soup in the pot. "You don't have to eat it if you don't want to."

"We don't have anything else to eat, so I suppose I'll have to stomach it," 

------------ 

also. tomato and mushroom soup fans stay mad, those are the worst soups dont @ me

thats it. thats the fic.

lmk if i should finish it or not lmaoo its just domestic fluff without a plot sdjfskdjfjkfjdf i just dunno what to even say here just give me feedback maybe

[viewfromthevault]

20 OTP Questions

Tagged a good while ago by @tarberrymentats (thank you!!)

Lesley & Charon

(Fun fact my sister saw this piece last week and said “agh it’s like that scene in the Mummy!” and I lost it)

1. Who can outdrink the other?

Charon. He doesn’t drink a lot, but when he does he hardly feels it thanks to his ghouliness. Lesley will try her damned best to get in a drinking match with him but that usually ends with her having to quit for her own health and she spends the next day hugging the toilet.

2. Who says “I love you” more?

My first thought was Lesley on account of her generally being more verbal than Charon is, but at this point in their story he is much more forthcoming with his thoughts and feelings than she is. Lesley is more comfortable in showing her love for Charon through action while Charon will tell it to her up front.

3. Who has trouble sleeping alone?

They both do. Charon regularly suffers from nightmares and waking up next to Lesley or even just waking up in the same room as her puts him a little more at ease. Lesley has had a hard time sleeping alone since she fled the vault. Though she loves the freedom and excitement living in the wasteland brings, there is a small part of her that misses the security living in a vault had though she’ll never admit it. Being with Charon makes her feel safe.

4. Who swears more?

LESLEY

5. Who does more of the housework?

Back when they lived in Megaton Wadsworth did all the work and constantly bitched about it. When they move to Boston and build a home at the Red Rocket across the river from Sanctuary they share responsibilities, though Lesley’s still a bit of a slob.

6. Who forgets their anniversary?

Time is fucky and neither of them were paying attention to the date when the smooching began.

7. Who steals the duvet in their sleep?

When Lesley isn’t clinging to Charon like a spider monkey she’s got herself cocooned in the blankets. The best Charon can do when she does this is have her sleep on top of him so he at least gets some coverage.

8. Who keeps the other awake at night with their snoring?

Lesley’s dead to the world when she sleeps. The nuke in the town square could go off and she’d sleep right through it. Charon on the other hand is a very light sleeper and though Lesley doesn’t really snore there are other things that keep him awake at night.

9. Who finds stray animals and begs the other to let them keep them?

Lesley, though one would consider it rude to call Butch and Mac “stray animals.” Lesley wouldn’t but someone might.

10. Who usually makes dinner?

Lesley was a fry cook back in the vault so she has the most experience with preparing meals. She learns to adapt to cooking in the wastes quickly with lots of trial and error and is actually prettt good at it. She teaches Charon to cook as well.

11. Who plays their music out loud?

Lesley. When they’re cooking together she’s singing and dancing all goofy-like and bumping her hip against Charon to try and get him to dance along too.

12. Who hogs the bathroom?

They’re both guilty of taking too long in the bathroom.

13. Who gives the most compliments?

Both compliment each other often. Charon is more specific whereas Lesley’s compliments are more colourful.

14. Who usually starts/causes arguments between them?

Lesley has a bad habit of doing things without thinking which often leads to putting herself at risk and as such it’s the main if not the only reason they argue. It’s both terrifying and frustrating for Charon as she doesn’t always go where he can easily follow as well as her being a hypocrite. She was the one who always told him to value his life and refrain from running head first into dangerous situations and there she goes doing things like getting into fist fights with super mutants and running off to the Pitt.

They also argue about little things like stealing each other’s kills or Lesley whining that Charon always gets to use the sniper rifle even though she can’t shoot the broad side of a barn.

15. Who isn’t afraid to embarrass the other in public?

I wouldn’t say embarrass as she isn’t looking to publicly humiliate him, it’s more like Lesley tries her absolute best to get Charon flustered. In public or not. He’s pretty good at downplaying his reactions so she has to really work at it to catch him off guard. She has successfully gotten him blush a couple times tho.

16. Who gives the other cringeworthy pet names?

Charon isn’t one for giving pet names and he doesn’t react much to them being directed at him so Lesley has little use for them. She does call him big guy a lot, but idk if that counts as a pet name. One name that does get under his skin however and she only uses at peak gremlin hours to keep it from losing its power. That name is Char-Bear (pronounced Care-Bear if you didn’t get it).

17. Who fusses over the other when they get sick?

Lesley fusses when Charon gets sick because she has inherited exactly zero of her father’s medical know-how. She stresses because she doesn’t know what the proper procedure is and Charon refuses to go to a clinic or see a doctor and tries to brush it off.

To keep the doctors away Charon knows some basic medical stuff and can handle simple illnesses. He’s not fussy but more of a calming presence with a lot of patience for Lesley’s whiny ass. She doesn’t take being sick well.

18. Who finds it impossible to stay angry at the other for long?

Lesley is veeeery good at holding grudges but Charon will never appear on her shit list. She loves the big guy too much to stay mad at him.

19. Who clings to the other for comfort when they’re sad or scared?

Both do, though Lesley is more noticeable as she literally clings to Charon. Charon is more subtle and typically holds her hand when he’s scared. When he’s sad he’ll lean on her (but not too much he’s too big).

20. Who is more “physically passionate” (hugs, kisses, or maybe more...)?

The best way for Lesley to get them Big Feelings across is through physical affection and is a champ at it. Charon’s touch starved ass likes it too, but she initiates it more than he does.

[forestwater87]

OK. So idk if something is wrong with me, I'm naive or just missing something but I really really don't understand how these girls are Victims? I'm not saying they aren't, I just don't understand. As far as I can tell they all consented, and were never pressured or coerced into doing anything. I'm not trying to troll or be contrary or judgmental I'm just struggling to understand. Sorry, you seem to be quite well thought about this whole mess. I hope this ask is okay and doesn't cause any offence, it genuinely is not my intention.

I understand why you feel that way. I wasn’t comfortable calling them victims early in this whole situation (which has only been about a week long, Jesus), and it wasn’t really until I started to put all of them together that patterns began to emerge and I could really understand the scope of what Ryan did. I’ll lay out my thoughts here, referring to the individuals by their first initial following the example set by r/RyanHaywood, and hopefully we’ll be able to piece together why so many of us are willing to call these women victims.

(To be clear: I’m not trying to call anyone a victim who does not consent to that term. I don’t believe any of these fans have come forward expressing that they don’t want to be considered victims, but if that’s the case then I have no interest in forcing that label on anyone. I’m using it as a descriptive term, not a prescriptive one, if that makes sense.)

First off, we’ll start with the easiest stuff to agree with:

1. At least one of them was a victim of statutory rape, and potentially just plain rape. I’m not sure what the laws on removing a condom during sex without consent are, but M’s story makes it clear that he did not do due diligence in making sure she was of legal age -- the same can be argued for T, though her lying to him about her age makes that a tougher putt for some people; I’m pretty sure legally speaking he’s still in the hole -- so he just straight-up had sex with a minor. Technically with two minors. 

So that one’s pretty easy. However, there have been something like 9 people have come forward and only 2 of them were minors. Certainly not a winning record -- to be abundantly clear, the number of minors you should be having sex with is 0; if it’s possible to have sex with negative numbers of minors, that should be the baseline for everyone -- but one of them lied about her age and the other one seemed really enthusiastic, and what about those other women? They were adults and they consented, so they shouldn’t be considered victims, right?

Well, that’s where it gets a bit trickier. I’ll put this all under a cut for length, but while the following isn’t illegal, it’s definitely immoral, and part of what led to me being more comfortable calling these women victims:

2. They were victims due to his celebrity status. Your mileage is definitely going to vary on this one, but the fact that Ryan is a popular internet personality means that his fans are more likely to be starstruck, intimidated, flattered, or otherwise willing to do things to make him happy that they otherwise wouldn’t do. T, M, and L have all said that they were influenced by their admiration of him as a fan to do things they wish they hadn’t, and there are definitely ways that influencers or celebrities can ethically date fans (Caiti Ward was a huge RT fan before she and Jack married, and by all appearances they’re the most wholesome couple in the entire world), but encouraging them to send you naked pictures in exchange for positive validation from someone you idolize definitely seems like a bad use of celebrity status. L indicates that Ryan claims he didn’t realize the impact his status had on fans, but considering he was seemingly exclusively choosing sex partners from within the fanbase -- as opposed to, say, Tinder or something -- he must’ve on some level gathered that fans were easier to convince to do what he wanted.

3. They were victims of dishonest behavior. All of the women who’ve spoken up so far have said that they believed they were the only one Ryan was having an extramarital sexual relationship with, which indicates at best that he was extremely vague on establishing the parameters of their relationship and arguably suggests he was misleading them. This put them at risk for STDs (especially considering his apparent comfort with unprotected sex) as well as just general emotional harm. He lied about them as well, indicating to anyone who found out -- from his mods in 2017 to his statement a few days ago -- that any relationship was an isolated mistake.

It’s also unclear how honest he was about his marriage; all of the women who discussed this aspect have said that he told them a similar story, and at least M was led to believe that she was actually helping his marriage by satisfying his sexual needs so he wouldn’t have to leave his wife. It’s naïve and perhaps delusional to an outsider, but that and a lot of other stuff seems to be explained by . . .

4. They were victims of emotional manipulation. What’s really telling about lining all of these accounts up is the pattern that emerges: Ryan began with friendly conversation, often dispensing advice on personal and mental health issues (virtually all of the women who’ve come forward have expressed that they have some sort of mental illness), before testing the waters with a sexual comment that could be read as a joke or escalated further depending on the response of the fan, then alternating between showering them with compliments and attention and ignoring them for days or weeks on end. In at least one account he appears to have lied about a fan behind her back, which intentionally or not resulted in her losing most of her friends and being bullied on his own server, which he dismissed (again, behind her back) while treating her sympathetically to her face. That particular sexual relationship didn’t begin until after all of the above, and it’s not much of a stretch to note that he found a fan, isolated her, and then escalated the relationship into a sexual one.

And again, it comes down to spotting a pattern. Even if you don’t feel like a particular woman here is a victim, it’s important to take a look at all of their commonalities:

They were huge fans of Ryan, and followed him on at least one form of social media. Words like “idolized” and “loved” are used a lot in these testimonies.

They struggled with mental illness or personal issues (including bullying, depression, insecurity, marriage problems, etc.) that Ryan was informed about and seemingly supportive of.

They were younger than him by at least 8-9 years.

Their conversations gradually become more and more sexual. Sometimes this was initiated by Ryan, sometimes by the fan; if the sexual comments were rebuffed, they were immediately dismissed as jokes.

Nudes were sent and received, and they all stress how desired and valued Ryan made them feel.

If they were told about his marriage, it was a story that made him look highly sympathetic, and made cheating seem like less of a big deal or even the lesser of two evils.

He would push for in-person meetups, even offering to pay for the flight and hotel (using money he received from stream donations, which he claimed were being sent to his children's’ college funds).

He appears to have been uneven with his attention; multiple fans mentioned that he would “get bored” of them and not reply for days or even weeks at a time, and M mentions that he’d continue to “check in” even after their sexual relationship had ended. (Putting these together creates an image of a constantly-rotating list of potential partners that he’d cycle through, but admittedly this is just speculation.) One of the fans -- not sure which, but I linked them all so go hunting if you feel like it -- mentioned that he seemed bored or dismissive of non-sex talk after their relationship got sexual, essentially rescinding the very thing that made them want to talk to him in the first place.

So here we have a pattern of Ryan seeking out fans, especially those who were young and had personal issues making them vulnerable, drew them in with charm and friendly advice, then escalated the conversations to a graphic sexual nature, attempted to hook up with them, and made them feel special and unique (when that clearly was not the case). There are justifications for all of these on their own -- he’s not obligated to tell every sexual partner about all the others, some of the fans were the ones who took it further, etc. -- but when you put them all together, it’s pretty damning. This isn’t the behavior of someone who made a few mistakes with equally-consenting adults, but someone who had his strategy down to a science. 

To finally sum this up, anon: you don’t have to feel like any of these individual women were victims (well, except M; I don’t think there’s any other way to read that horrible story), but taken together I hope you can see Ryan’s predatory behavior. At the very least, I hope we can agree that they were all victims of lies and emotional manipulation.

Maybe it was unintentional . . . but with such consistent accounts, I find it hard to believe.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #334

"i dreamed i was missing  /  you were so scared  /  but no one would listen,  ‘cuz no one else cared”

Sunrise or sunset? Sunset has prettier colors, imo, but I enjoy the pastel nature of sunrises, too. Are you mentally ill? Oh brother. Are you physically ill? I don't have any serious physical health issues, no. Introvert or extrovert? I'm a very strong introvert. What do you think when you look at your body? That it's fucking disgusting. What have others said when they look at your body? When I was healthy, I was complimented every now and again. With the body I have now? I'm glad people keep their months shut. Do you have a particular song that you feel deeply? There's a good 'ole handful or two. Talk about a time in your life where you have felt most alive? It's weird, I'm not a city person at all, but possibly when I was walking the streets of Chicago with Sara and her dad one evening. There was just so much life, so many new sights, that it was impossible not to. Plus, I was at a very happy point in my life, so. I just enjoyed a lot. Are you confident wearing a bikini? FUCK NO. Have you ever been hurt physically or mentally by a family member? Mentally, obviously. Everyone has at some point. I've never been seriously physically hurt by family, but Mom did spank my sisters and me as kids if we did something wrong. Biggest lie you have told? I don't really know. I get really uncomfortable telling even minor lies, so making a big one would be excruciating. I'm not saying I've never said a biggie, I'm sure in 25 years of life I said something stupid at one point, I just don't remember it. Do you believe in the Illuminati? Nah; there's some compelling evidence, but I just think it's way too big of a secret to keep. Regrets in your life? Blaming the breakup entirely on Jason and saying just plain cruel things to him afterwards. Also sending an appallingly hateful letter to Dad to vent after the divorce. Flirting with my then-best friend's boyfriend at the time behind her back. Dating Tyler (it's a small one, but still a regret). There are others, those are just the only ones coming to me right now. Achievements in your life? Lots of academic success and awards (before college, anyway...), artistic accomplishments like having my work put in a museum, surviving a traumatic breakup, (mostly) recovering from massive depression... What did people say about you in school? Nothing, really. I was a quiet student who just did her work and tried hard. Is there something you have never told anyone? Yes. If you had two days to spend one million dollars how would you spend it? First, I'm paying off college debt. Then Mom gets a new car, followed by me getting new glasses and renewing my permit. I'm getting a good terrarium setup for Venus. Then, it's tattoo time, baby, haha. I can't really do the mental math on how much this all would cost, but those are the high-priority things I can think of. Describe your first kiss? Was it how you imagined? Jason and I were playfighting in bed, and he had me pinned. Our faces were close, and I decided to kiss him. It was a fairy tale moment, in my eyes. He looked so bashful for once (he's far from shy) but also really happy, and I was too. Growing up were you in a wealthy, average, or low income household? Low, I think. Or maybe average, when Dad was still around. Have you been raised by a solo parent? When I was around 17, my parents split, so kinda-sorta. Do you know both your parents? Thankfully, yes. Have you abused drugs or alcohol? No. Are you comfortable accepting compliments? Ehhhh, I really appreciate them and they can make my whole day, but I'm very awkward about it. I get shy. Are you comfortable giving compliments? Oh yes. I honestly love giving compliments; I know how happy they can make me, so why not share that with others? Is any mental illness hindering your life? Guess. (: Is any physical illness hindering your life? Well, it's not an "illness," but the muscles in my legs have severely atrophied from leading such a horribly sedentary lifestyle, and that has greatly affected my ability to work without the risk of just collapsing. Walking at all is painful. Are you preparing for an apocalypse? No. I'm not really one to worry about "prepping." If it happens, it happens, man. I'm not spending loads of money on a "maybe." Are you interested in cults? Not really, no. Are your parents good cooks? Mom is fine, but it's hard to really judge Dad's cooking since he barely ever did it, plus I haven't had his cooking in many, many years. I remember he was great at making breakfast, though. That was like a rare treat, him deciding to make breakfast for everyone. Have you ever been to a chiropractor? Did you like it? No. Do you know anyone who is an actor? No. Have your wisdom teeth come through yet? They never did. Have you ever used a public pay phone? No. Have you ever made an item of clothing? No. Have you taken someone's virginity? No. Is confidence cute? "Confidence, yes. But cockiness and arrogance, no. That’s a whole different area that’s definitely not cute." <<<< Nailed it. Would you be able to date someone who doesn’t make you laugh? Doubt it. Are you one of those people who never drinks soda? No; rather, I drink too much of it. I'm trying really hard to lay off of it, and I drink nowhere near as much as I used to (when oddly enough, I was healthy and fit), but I'm still not comfortable drinking a can and a half a day. Listening to? "Castle of Glass" by Linkin Park. Kinda obsessed. Ever used a bow and arrow? No, but archery is cool. Last time you got a portrait taken by a photographer? I don't think this has happened since my senior shot in HS. Take a vitamin daily? Daily, no, but I really should. I take a Vitamin D capsule every Sunday, though. Favorite Taylor Swift song? I only really like "Love Story" and "Picture to Burn." Have you ever cried because you were so happy? Yeah. Which are better: black or green olives? I don't like olives period, but I guess black. What’s your 3rd favourite animal? Huh, never thought of #3, just #1 and #2: meerkats and opossums. Maybe snakes? Do you like mushrooms? NO. NO NO NO. What dream do you remember most vividly? One I don't talk about. A childhood nickname? Mom called me "Twinkie" and still sometimes does. ;-; Does anyone in "real life" know that you take surveys? Would you be embarrassed if they found your blog? Just Sara. And yes, regarding some people. Who was the last person you blocked on social media? Did you have an argument that lead to that happening? I'm unsure, but probably. I don't tend to just like... randomly block people. What was the first social media account you remember signing up for? Are you still a member of that particular website, if it even still exists? Of course it was MySpace. It's still floating around somewhere in cyberspace. What website from your childhood/teen years do you wish still existed? I get nostalgic over the Animal Planet forums sometimes. Have you ever met up with anyone in real life that you first met via the internet? Did you get on as well as you thought you would? Yes, Sara. I felt like it would go just fine, but it went even better than I expected - I was oddly very comfortable around her and her family. Have you ever tried any of those meal replacement shakes? Are you a fan of things like that in general? Yeah; I tried many brands until I settled for Equate, surprisingly. Cheap does not equate to bad quality, my friends. We always have the chocolate ones in the house, and they're really not bad at all. Are you the kind of person to enjoy taking naps? I love me my daily nap, man. What's your favourite kind of cheese to have on a pizza? Idk, whatever cheese is normally used, lol. What's a hobby you loved when you were younger but no longer enjoy for whatever reason? I guess video editing. I can't say I'd no longer enjoy it at all, but now the idea sounds far more like a chore than fun. Is there a popular food/drink that you can't stand? What is it and why don't you like it? I could name five dozen, but here's just a few: coffee, pie, tea, fried chicken (or is that just a Southern thing to be obsessed with?), and... of course now that I'm asked this question, I'm blanking on the huge number I know exist. As for "why," that varies, but it's either just simply a taste or even a texture thing. How would your wedding boquet look like? I want a gothic-themed wedding, so imagine a mix of black and maroon roses... whew-wee. You’re at a bar, and you witness a man drugging some girl's drink. What do you do? No hesitation, I'm decking the motherfucker. Fuck my fear of men, he's getting knocked out, and I'm immediately alerting the staff, as well as of course the girl. Kids? How many? Why? Names? Boy or girl? Y'know, loads and loads of scaly and hairy ones. Got plenty of name ideas depending on what they are and how they look. The only baby whose gender matters to me is the tarantula because females live waaaay longer. Fuck them human babies, not for me. Are you an organ donor? Absolutely. I sure as hell ain't usin' 'em once I'm dead, so consider it my last act of selflessness. Whats the most you’ve ever lost gambling? I don't gamble. What is something you can never give up (that's not love or family)? My pebble from my "graduation" from my first partial hospitalization program. It's meant to symbolize how great pain and trials can file you into something beautiful. It was passed around group, everyone holding it in their hands as they wished me well and spoke their piece about me. I'm honestly just fighting back tears remembering it. Have you ever waited in line overnight for something? No, I'm way too impatient for that shit.. Do you think having an expensive phone is a good investment? Hm. I guess it depends on what you use it for. Have you ever witnessed a birth in person? A human birth, no fucking thank you. I've only ever seen pet cats give birth. Does anyone in your family smoke? My dad does, big time. He quit drinking, but never quite managed to stay away from cigarettes. Have you ever had a pet escape and run away? Seeing as I grew up with outdoor cats that we couldn't afford to fix, pretty much all of our tomcats left for roving once they came of a certain age. Do any of your exes know each other? Juan and Jason know each other, Jason and Girt know one another as well, and Sara and Girt have met. What’s an opinion you find impossible to take seriously? I simply cannot fathom the belief that "dinosaurs never existed." Explain the fucking fossils, like come the fuck on. It's absolute denial in the name of religion. What was the very first election you voted in? This one that just passed, actually. What is one random fact about you? I want like 20 tarantulas but Mom says no. :( Do you spend a lot of time outdoors in the summer? Fuck no, I will do anything to stay inside in summer. Do you wear band tees? if yes, which one is your favorite? I love band tees, yeah. My Ninja Sex Party shirt is the most comfortable, but comfort aside, it's hard to pick a favorite. Possibly my Otep one, 'cuz the design is dope. Do you ever re-arrange your room? No. What season do you want to get married in? Fall. What is the highest name-brand thing you own? Oh god, I don't own expensive brand stuff. I guess the only exclusion would be my Cloak shirt, but even that's not like, mad pricey. What color GameBoy did you have as a kid? Red. What was your favorite GameBoy game? Maybe that Catz game? Even though the music was the most fucking obnoxious meowing ever lmao. What was the last compliment you remember someone gave to you? Who was it? It was this guy in my PHP group; my therapist surprised the fuck out of me by sharing with everyone my most recent poem (I trust him a lot, and he urges me to send him my art, so I've done that twice), and I nearly fucking died from cardiac arrest. However, this Nick guy, who's a poetry major, told me it was better than stuff he reads in his Master's program. I almost cried. Have you ever personally been friends with a stripper or prostitute? No, not that I'm opposed though or anything. If you have tattoos, which one that you have was the most painful? The one on my inner forearm. Have you ever actually met and talked to someone who’s famous? No. When was the last time you got a parking ticket for anything at all? I never have. Do you have any pets who will bite anyone else out there, besides you? No; Roman won't even come close enough to a stranger TO bite, haha. It's funny, he's so goofy and you'd guess outgoing, but instead, he's terrified of people he doesn't recognize. What’s your favorite type of sushi? I don't eat sushi. What’s your favorite patriotic song? Don't have one. Have you ever read a book about a character in a psych ward? No, and I'd really prefer not to because it would just drag me back to dark times. Have you ever been in a mental hospital as a patient? ^ Have you ever had an ulcer? No. Do you like soy sauce? omfg no What’s your favorite store to browse around? Morph Market. @_@ It's a hub for reptiles for sale, and I have my days where I just browse the ball python morphs for like an hour or so, haha. What’s the name of the most recent baby a friend had? Christ, half my friends on Facebook are having babies, idr. I don't know who was the most recent. Do people normally say you’re a fast typer, or are you rather slow? I'm very fast. Have you ever been considered the "smartest person in school?" No; that was my friend Hannia. I'm pretty certain she would qualify as a genius. Her GPA was fucking incredible. Were you named after anyone famous or anyone on television? No.

[lordofthenerds97]

I know you’re busy so take your time! I wanted to ask if I could get a ship ❤️ I’m a straight female who’s an ambivert. I love listening to music & oof cuddles & make out sessions are the best. I’m 5’0”. I have medium length brown hair & blue eyes I’ve never sent in a ship so idk if I gave enough info haha. Thank you!

Oh babe you're so sweet, thank you!! Of course you can have a ship, and you did it perfectly 😄 there's so much to work with that I don't know what to include!

I ship you with...

Steve!!

You were about ready to throw your medical book through the wall of your room, pull your hair out, and cry. But not necessarily in that order

You knew your father was just trying to be helpful. He wanted you to succeed in life, and this was his way of helping you do it

But you didn't understand how life in a bunker with a bunch of soldiers could help

Did I forget to mention Y/N Ozerov, daughter of the one and only Commander Ozerov?

Oops

In any case, you were struggling through your first year of medical school, and the dark and violent filled surroundings weren't helping you much. Though you had to admit that working with Doctor Yacovich in the infirmary was giving you the hands on training you needed

That still didn't help your ill feelings towards your course book work

But before you could make up your mind what sounded like the better plan, you heard the alarm blaring in the distance. And feeling your heart leap into your throat, you grabbed your emergency kit and raced out of your quarters

Red lights were flashing everywhere you turned and officers were running to and from every direction.

"Intruders!"

That stopped you dead in your tracks. Since when did your super secret base get invaded?

You slowed your pace until you managed to find an officer that would tell you what was going on. And even then it took your name and the harsh glare that you inherited from your father to get him to say anything

From what you could piece together, there were two of them. Maybe more. And then you got word that your father was in an interrogation room with one of them

So with a resigned sigh, you quickly headed in the direction of the cells, knowing your services would be required at a one point. You could hear crazed laughter and the sound of a fist colliding with bone. You cringed and braced yourself for when the door opened. You could briefly make out the English word Doctor before you were ushered into the hall. You waited with crossed arms and an angry glare until your father joined you

"What are you doing here, Y/N?" your father asked sternly

You gave him a hard look. "You heard him ask for a doctor. Besides, how do you expect to get information out of him with every bone in his face broken?"

He paused and clenched his jaw, knowing you had a point. "Be quick."

You nodded quietly and followed his directions, hastily stepping into the cell when your father motioned for the soldier to open the door. You gru.bled under your breath at the harsh treatment of your father before you quickly dropped to your knees beside the crumpled form of a man in a sailors outfit

The whole sight of it brought a confused frown to your face. You looked him over, realizing that he was about your age. His face was a bloody mess and you weren't sure what was injured and what wasn't. So your fingers worked to clean up the blood, realizing he had a broken nose, a split lip, black eye, and probably a fractured jaw

When you were turning his head to look for other injuries is when he woke up

You jolted back with surprise as he turned a wild gaze to you and backed away. You couldn't understand hardly a word he was saying, but you held your hands up in a placating gesture

"I'm not going to hurt you. I'm trying to help you."

"What?"

You gave him a frustrated look. "Help," you said, the English word tasting odd on your tongue

He frowned but allowed you to scoot a little closer with your damp cloth. It took you a little longer than you expected, but you managed to get him cleaned up before your father came to throw him into another cell. He looked at you with a pleading expression and your heart went out to the man, knowing what was going to happen

You never did understand what it was your father was looking for. Some kind of gate, that much you knew. Alexei had tried to explain it to you before he went to a remote lab. But most of it was beyond your comprehension

The rest of your day passed slowly as you kept tabs on what happened with the prisoners. Whatever was going on, you knew it wasn't normal. And if that man you treated earlier was a spy, then he hadn't received any training at all. He just kept blabbering on and on, never shutting up

It wasn't until the alarms went off again that you knew something was desperately wrong. You were in the middle of trying to find your father when a hand clasped around your mouth and dragged you into the shadows. You tried to scream but then your eyes locked on his

It was the man from the cell

He tried to tell you what was going on, tried to explain it, and you tried to understand. But it wasn't any use. Finally, he grabbed your arms and stared into your eyes with an intensity you ahdbt ever seen before. "Help," he said. "Help you."

You gave him a confused look but allowed him and the other woman he was with to lead you back though the maze of tunnels to the elevator. There was an obvious urgency about what was going on and it frustrated you to no end that neither of you could understand the other

It surprised you even more when you came out of the elevator into the mall parking lot where a man in a floral shirt and Alexei who was still handcuffed stood

"Alexei?" you called

He turned his attention to you, his features lighting up. "Y/N!" He rushed towards you as you threw your arms around his neck

"What's going on? Why are you prisoner? Are you hurt?"

He explained to you as quickly as he could. And it all started to make sense

Before you knew it, you were helping the ragtag group. It was consisted of mostly children, two girls around your age, a sheriff, a mother, and the man you now knew as Steve

You were still trying to get to your father to put a stop to it once and for all. You saw him through the observation glass as you were sprinting towards the gate. His eyes locked with yours and not a few seconds later, the whole place was rocked with an explosion

You were thrown backwards by the force of it all, dragged out by the woman accompanying you. Your ears were ringing from the explosion, your vision was hazy, and you couldn't form a coherent thought

But when you made it outside again, your natural hair color covered by dirt and grime, your eyes puffy from the smoke, it all hit you at once

He was gone. Your father was dead

As the realizatiokn hit you, you felt your knees buckle ad tour body fall to the ground as tears welled in your eyes before cascading like a waterfall down your cheeks

You felt arms around you trying to hold you up, but you ended up dragging both of you to the ground as a scream tore through your throat

Hands rubbed soothingly on your back, words of comfort were whispered in your ear, and sobs racked your body as you curled yourself into the stranger's body. At some point you realized it was Steve, but that didn't stop you from mourning the loss of your father

Paramedics were soon on the scene, you were checked out and cleared save for the minor concussion you had. But you didn't once let go of Steve's hand through it. He kept close by your side and even managed to get you in a car to take you home. Well...to his deserted house that was

He took care of you, helped you through it, taught you English, helped you build a life, and eventually fell in love with you

You relied on him, taught him some Russian, let him in to the secrets of your past, and you gradually started to reciprocate the feelings

The rest? It's history. Besides, stranger things have happened in Hawkins

[unstablelover]

Why not! I’ll send you some asks for the fun of it (whoop whoop) Let’s do 11, 20, 42, 43, 44 and 48 :) (The cute asks post just in case you don’t see this for a while and are confused idk )

11 - what’s your lockscreen?

it’s my comfort ship! komahina!

20 - have you ever been in love?

yes, i have been! i was in a long term relationship that lasted 2 1/2 years and we lived together for 7 months! we were engaged for 4 months before he dumped me over text

unfortunately i’ve never been in a healthy relationship, i’ve been used and abused and manipulated every time i’ve dated someone, of course i wasn’t a total victim, i did things wrong too and i work hard every day to be a better person and never repeat the mistakes of my past (which is a lot more than any of my ex’s can say for themselves :) )

luckily i’m over him! i started this blog as a way to cope with him leaving me, but now i feel free and i’m taking huge strides towards healing from the abuse and i’m genuinely stable and over him now (it’s been 4 months)

sorry if this was tmi or oversharing! i have a kind of bad filter when it comes to that and i don’t really know what’s ok to share;;

42 - do you want kids?

i don’t want babies but i really want to foster teens one day!!

43 - do you want to get married?

absolutely! i have so many ideas of what it’ll be like!! i still can’t decide if i want to wear a dress or not! hopefully i’ll be way more transitioned and have gotten top surgery by the time i’m getting married so i think i’ll be able to wear a big fluffy dress!

i want the decorations and wedding favors to be baby blue and white! also i’m not sure if i actually want a huge wedding cake, i might go with a cupcake tower instead! also i want to be barefoot because i’m a little gremlin man!

44 - describe your dream girl/boy

aaa oh my gosh ok

i’m really not picky about looks at all, but ideally they’d be at least a little taller than me any maybe have more broad shoulders than me? i want to feel petite and delicate when with them

i don’t really care about gender since i’m bi but i do have a preference for transmasc individuals!

ideally they’d like anime and visual novels and writing and games and maybe they’d even cosplay with me! i also really like artists of any kind, i always just really vibe with them!

i’d want them to be possessive over me in a way that i can understand, i would also hope they’d be tolerant and understanding of my mental illnesses and be willing to educate themself on it if they don’t already know about it!

if it’s at all possible i’d like them to be very open with me about their feelings and let me know if i ever do something that makes them uncomfortable, i just would really appreciate someone who could actually tell me if i do something wrong so i can fix it!

um also maybe they would be willing to take care of themself without me having to beg them to! that would be nice

and now this stuff would be the absolute icing on the cake!

someone who loves to touch me and hold me and show me off, a person who rubs my shoulders and back, cooks me meals sometimes and oh my god,, would wash my hair 🥺

oh um also maybe they could be a top so i don’t end up being forced to do things that make me uncomfy again because i’ll do it i’ll do whatever they want but i just,, would rather not

48 - one piece of advice you live by?

to show kindness to everyone when i can! but not to feel bad when times come that i can’t be kind!

another one that i’ve been trying to teach myself is ‘don’t set yourself on fire to keep others warm’ which was a quote i was taught 4 years ago at a summer camp and i never forgot it but it’s a really hard rule to follow haha

[samaraclegane]

how about a fic where arya is pregnant and hesitant about it because she doesn’t just want to be a baby machine and then she loses the baby and is surprised that she’s so upset and naturally gendry is there to comfort her!!

author’s note: thanks for this one, anon! super emotional. hope it’s alright for you/what you wanted. oh, also I think it needs a trigger warning? so TRIGGER WARNING: miscarriage, implied depression. i’m not great at these things, idk. thanks for the prompt anyway!

-at first, she’d been reluctant at best. 

-this was never the plan. she never wanted to have children: she’s seen so many ladies and regular women alike go down this path. one moment they’re overcome by lust and love and whatever else drives a person to do such things, then as soon as they’re pregnant their entire lives go down the drain.

-she thinks this is always how the story goes. she’s seen her mother - a bright woman, her worth extending far beyond her physical beauty - settle down and have children. while she now, looking back, respects her mother and her integrity, she can’t say she wants to follow in her footsteps.

-Arya thinks that, as soon as one baby is born, it’s only a matter of time before the next, then the next, and the next. the only viable way to stop having children is to die, which so often happens during childbirth. she’s seen that happen, too. intelligent, lovely women, dead on their beds, beside a screaming child, still attached to their insides.

-she’s terrified. she wants to turn back time and be more careful, or not do it at all. while she doesn’t exactly regret sleeping with Gendry, that is, speaking in terms of reality, what got her in this stick situation.

-he’d be a good father, she has no doubt. in fact, the more she thinks about it, isolating herself in her room, the only thing she’s truly worried about is herself, which is precisely why she doesn’t think she can handle this.

-what if it came between her and Gendry? what if it came down to saving herself or saving the child? or, even worse, saving Gendry or saving their child? she can’t stand the thought of herself having a child that despises her, because she has no idea how to look after it.

-the first person she seeks, led by pure instinct, is Gendry himself. he’s in the forge (of course he is, when is he not?) so it’s a fairly easy task.

-she breaks down crying to him. against every inch of her screaming at her that doing so would be breaking every code she’d learned, destroying every wall she’d ever built up to protect herself from ever being vulnerable again, she does.

-she lets him take her into her arms. he plants kisses on her forehead, and strokes her hair as he hums to her. she knows he doesn’t know it, but it’s exactly what her mother used to do whenever she’d scraped herself, or when she missed her father or Jon when they went on a particularly long hunting expedition.

-she’s soothed, as much as she can be. as soon as she can form words, she tells him what’s happening - what’s made her behave to erratically - and his face is caught between utmost joy and confusion. she’s grateful to see he doesn’t ever look disappointed, at the news or at her reaction, and she even begins to feel silly for having been to upset by it. 

-”Arya,” his voice is soft, all rounded at the edges and eternally calming, “whatever happens, we can make it through. together.”

-his words resonate within her, to the core of her bones, and she breaks into a smile, beaming up at him and wondering how on earth she got so lucky.

-since that moment, her fears have dissipated. there’s moments, from time to time, when she doubts herself. the reoccurring thought of her being a dreadful mother comes back to her, especially in her darkest nights, but now she’s started sharing Gendry’s bed, she doesn’t have to stay like that for long. as soon as he notices something wrong, or her writhing wakes him up, she’s back in his arms, and he’s reassuring her everything will be okay.

-it’s one night, though, where something different. she’s feeling ill, which is normal nowadays, even though she hates the sensation. this night, however, she feels like if she moves something bad will happen. she lays on her back, motionless, but then there’s a sudden feeling in her gut and she’s send straight up, hunching over, cradling her knees and crying hysterically.

-Gendry, right beside her, doesn’t miss a beat as he jumps to wrap himself around her. the slight swell of her stomach is tangible on her legs now, where she can feel the brush of raised skin as she breathes in and out. she doesn’t know if she’s in physical pain, but her emotions have run riot, and then when she looks down there’s a small pool of blood forming beneath her.

-some part of her just knows. she’s seen death, in its late stages, but something about this time breaks her into tiny, glittering pieces. maybe it’s the fact that the life isn’t only hers, but Gendry’s too. maybe it’s the fact that the life has barely had a chance to be alive, before it’s ripped from her. either way, she’s sobbing desperately, knowing what’s to come, but still letting Gendry seek help, shouting and making a fuss.

-she misses exactly how it all happens, but the next time she returns to herself she’s lying down in a room that’s fuller than it was before. now she’s not only with Gendry, but her sister is there too, and there’s a woman she doesn’t think she’s seen before giving her a look that tells her that her earlier suspicions are correct.

-”I’m sorry,” the woman tries to offer her, but she shakes her head, feeling empty, and silently warns her not to continue. the woman looks sheepishly at Gendry, then at Sansa, who nods and the woman leaves. 

-Sansa looks at her, and some part of her expression looks even more broken than Arya feels. she feels guilty when she sees this. she knows how much Sansa loves children - regardless of whose they are, her own or otherwise - but Arya, even being who she is, knows she loved her child more than she could ever fathom.

-it was strange, in the initial moments as well as afterwards, to ponder upon how she had loved a person she had never met. and, as she continued with this thought, would never get to meet; this was their beginning and their end. she would not be able to watch the child grow, to see whether it looked like her or Gendry, or an even mix of both. she could not teach them how to fight, nor admire Gendry’s perseverance as he tried to teach them how to forge. that future had been taken from them, and the hole in her stomach was a constant, aching reminder of that.

-the only continuous thing was the feeling of Gendry’s arms around her. even as her hollow gaze stared on at her sister, watched her solemnly bow her head and leave, she felt the strong warmth of his chest against her. she kissed her on her forehead, leaving a non-permanent, beautiful mark there, and whispered to her.

-”we’ll get through it,” he promised her quietly, as though hiding a secret from the gods themselves, “whatever happens, we can make it through together.”

-Arya knew it wouldn’t make any of it right. never again would she feel completely whole - if she had ever done in the first place - but knowing that she wasn’t alone made the thought just that little bit more bearable. 

she would still never have a baby to hold and love, at least not their first. they would never impart their wisdom onto them, nor grant them a safe passage into the world. she could never look the child in the eyes to scold them, nor to praise them. 

-even so, even despite all of this being acknowledged, she liked to believe that sooner or later, day by day, things would get more manageable. even if it would never be the same, she was willing to try, because she wasn’t as alone as she had made herself believe.

[marshmallowbirb]

Blood Red Riding Hood: Chapter 3

Title: Blood Red Riding Hood: Chapter 3 - Coal Black Series: Angels of Death Rating: M Summary: Little Red Riding Hood AU. Rachel Gardner wanders the woods alone at night in a red hood, looking for her own death. When she finds it, however, her death has other plans. Pairing: Zack/Ray Spoilers: AU, but probably for the whole game eventually? IDK. 

Zack woke the next morning, warm and comfortable. Something was strange. It was usually just a bit chilly when he woke in the mornings, and it was certainly chilly this morning too. But he was underneath a blanket and that was far from the norm.

Without realizing it, his tail began to thump on the soft fabric covering the floor of his cave. Soft fabric? Where had that come from? It wasn't terribly concerning, so Zack made a semi-conscious decision to ignore the oddness. Instead, he tried to go back to sleep. But there was something else stopping him – something that felt very nice.

It was his ears. The fur was being scratched, short nails scraping the skin underneath. The points of his ears flicked, responding instinctively to the stimulus. He whined a bit, realizing vaguely that this was what was causing his tail to thump.

Oh, it was heaven.

He burrowed his face down into something soft to get more of that wonderful scratching on his ears. When it stopped, a small whine escaped his throat and his fingers flexed into that nice, warm pillow. Suddenly, there was a squeal, causing his ears to perk up once again. The pillow began moving underneath his hands and consciousness flooded back into Zack’s mind.

 Oh.

Shit, right.

Zack sat bolt upright, banging his head on the top of his little cave. As he gingerly rubbed his head, the curses came spilling out.

“Satan's cock and balls!”

Oh right. That girl was still there. He cracked an eye open to find her sitting beside him, watching him with a sort of detached curiosity. Rubbing his head managed to dispel the ache from the bump, but his pride still ached just a bit. Who just went and petted a grown ass wolf's ears like that? Did she not know those were highly sensitive? She'd also unintentionally pricked at an unpleasant memory that he thought he'd forgotten.

He'd be lying if he said it didn't feel nice though.

“Sorry,” Ray apologized, her voice dull.

“Why would you even do that?” he grumbled. “Just for that, I oughta bite you.” She at least had the common sense to look somewhat embarrassed.

“Well, our dog liked getting his ears scratched,” she muttered, a finger next to her lips. That little admission raised his hackles. He didn't know whether to be flattered or offended. Instead, he decided on simply being irritated.

“I'm not a dog, dammit!” It was true, but why did it suddenly feel like a useless declaration? Frustrated, he moved to crawl out of the cave and out of Ray's mound of blankets. “I'm gonna take a bath.”

“Ah!” she called after him, leaving the blankets for a second before shivering and covering back up. “It's still too cold!”

As Zack stretched, he realized that it was indeed still very cool. The sun hadn't even cleared the hills yet and a frosty haze still hung over the forest ground. It was going to be a clear day, but until it was properly light out, it was probably safer for Ray to stay where she was.

“Not for me,” he replied. A grin cracked his face, his earlier consternation fading. What was with this girl? She was cold all the time! Well, whatever. He began walking towards the stream, frosty leaves crunching under his boots.

As he walked, Zack cracked his neck and reflected on his new companion. She didn't seem to smell quite so badly this morning; in fact, she'd absorbed a lot of his smell overnight. Since it wasn't as bad this morning, he might hold off on making her take a bath until it was warmer out. She seemed to get cold so easily anyway. Of course, he could always just wait a few days and she'd probably smell less sick and more like him naturally.

Either way, he was going to get his bath no matter what she did.

Rachel was colder when Zack left, but it wasn't unbearable. She didn't intend to sleep any more that morning anyway. Instead, she took some pieces of salted meat from the barrel and a few bites of spiced apples and made those her breakfast. He'd probably want to leave as soon as he returned, so it was better to eat before then.

It was still cold out, so Rachel kept the blanket wrapped around her, the wolf's warmth evaporating slowly. His scent lingered, though. It wasn't bad, really, and it did remind her of her family's dog. His reaction earlier was a mystery to her, though.

He'd liked having his ears scratched, hadn't he? His tail had thumped and he'd curled against her legs, just like a puppy. It was adorable and Rachel found her cheeks burning just thinking about how soft his ears were. But he'd admonished her once he woke up, so maybe he didn't like it after all? Or maybe he was just embarrassed? Rachel chewed the salted pork and continued thinking about it.

By the time Zack returned, she was up and about, gathering their things and rolling up her bedroll. His hood was down and his hair was still wet and sticking to his head and ears. He'd opened his jacket, presumably to help dry off, so Rachel also had a clear view of his chest and stomach. She had secretly expected his whole body to be furry since his ears and tail were. Instead, he was wrapped neatly in bandages, showing no skin or fur. As he shook the water out of his hair, Rachel cocked her head to the side.

“Are you injured?” she asked, slightly concerned. If he had injuries that massive, he might die before he could kill her. Something about that struck her as sad and unacceptable.

“Huh?” came the startled response. “What, the bandages? Old wounds.” His voice sounded nonchalant but Rachel noted how quickly he closed his jacket back over the bandages. If he didn't want to talk about it, she couldn't make him, though. She decided to drop the subject.

“Do you want breakfast before we set out?” She had set him aside some meat, along with some pickles; he probably couldn't live on meat alone either.

“What's that?” he asked, nose crinkling, pointing at the pickles.

“Pickled cucumbers.”

“Nah,” he dismissed them, “They smell like death.” He did take the meat, though. Rachel watched him scarf it down, quietly happy that she had been of some use. After a moment, she turned back to her bedroll and continued rolling it up.

Not a few moments later, Zack joined her in gathering their things. He lashed the meat barrels together with the bedroll. Rachel thought the whole contraption looked terribly cumbersome, but he lifted it with ease. He only stooped a bit as he loaded himself down; after he'd taken a second to adjust the weight of the pack, he was nearly walking just as normal.

“C'mon, let's get outta here,” Zack grumbled. Rachel retrieved her basket, latched her cloak, and followed him closely.

Surprisingly, the two made decent time.

Zack only knew he had to head “south" to find his old friend. Well, “acquaintance" would be the better way to describe him. The older wolf had taken him into his monastery when he was younger; Zack had chafed at the rules and restrictions that accompanied the place and had caused more trouble than he was probably worth. In response, he'd been politely dismissed. The brothers at the monastery pointed him towards the northern forests and sent him merrily on his way.

He had no intention of joining them or being subservient to them now. But the Father there was a decent sort and he figured if anyone would know the way to an unoccupied territory, it would be him.

Regardless of all that, he had to find the monastery before he could solicit their help. This was where Ray was proving her usefulness. Although the daylight hours were much shorter than in the summer, she was adept at finding their way with the aid of the sun and moon. For as long as he'd lived on his own, patrolling those woods and the surrounding mountainsides, Zack had never really noticed much about those sorts of things. Sure, he knew the sun tended to come up in the same place for most of the year, and the moon varied by time of month. But it had never occurred to him to learn in which direction those things happened.

Ray, on the other hand, seemed to be able to use that information to point them vaguely southward. Or she could have been leading them in exactly the wrong direction, Zack would never know the difference either way. But she had been honest so far, so it was worth trusting her.

In the blink of an eye, a week passed.

It was largely uneventful. They traveled by day, keeping off the main road unless the forest wasn’t passable. Ray had protested at first, worried that the forest was harder to traverse, but Zack was adamant: other humans would pose a problem, and neither of them wanted to be separated from the other.

That was provided they even saw any. The town Ray had left was deserted and they hadn't seen any travelers. Zack hadn't even been able to pick up their scent. In fact, Ray was the first human he'd scented in weeks when he came across her. That sickness he'd seen in her town really seemed to have culled the whole lot of them. It really was a miracle she was even still walking.

That also proved to be a bit of a problem, though. Zack was used to walking, running, and trekking through wooded areas; he'd been doing it since he was a little pup, after all. But it rapidly became obvious that Ray wasn't used to it. Maybe it was because she was recovering from that illness or maybe it was because she wasn't used to travel. Either way, she carried a sickliness and thinness about her that annoyed Zack.

It also made her slow sometimes, and Zack really couldn't tolerate that.

The first day or two, he'd stopped so she could take breaks. But that only made him frustrated and restless. The compromise they'd worked out was for Zack to simply carry Ray under his arm like a log. He was certain he looked a fool, stomping through half-frozen forests with a limp girl under one arm and two barrels strapped to his back with a blanket. His back was strong enough to carry it all, but he wasn't sure his pride was.

She never wound up taking a bath, either. It wasn't like she smelled bad; she was about average for a human, as far as Zack knew. It just became less irritating as the sickness worked itself out of her.

Aside from her weakness, though, she did seem to be recovering. He even gave her extra meat, all the while admonishing her to hurry up and heal, hurry up and keep up with him, hurry up and stop making him worry. Even as he scolded her that he wouldn't wait on her much longer, that was exactly what he found himself doing.

The worst parts for Ray seemed to be at night. The cold didn't bother Zack much; it was just a natural part of living in the woods. If it was cold enough to snow, he'd just curl into a ball and sleep until it was warm enough to move around. Not Ray, though.

She couldn't sleep in the cold, not even with that huge blanket of hers. Every night without fail, she'd curl under it and shiver until he crawled in with her. She never asked or complained, which Zack supposed was tolerable. But he couldn't sleep if he knew she was just going to be awake all night anyway. As soon as he pulled her tight to his chest, she'd fall asleep.

He would have been lying if he said it wasn't awkward to wake up holding a woman. The last female he'd been around for any length of time was the bitch that had given birth to him, and none of the males he'd been near had gotten that close to him. Most of his victims had been male humans, as well; the females didn't seem to get out into his woods quite as much, although their meat seemed just a bit more tender. In fact, before the man had gone into his cabin and expired, Zack had had his eye on the village doctor. That man was always going through his woods, narrowly escaping him every time.

He was fine when he was walking with her during the day. It was during those small spaces of time that Ray was asleep and Zack was not that his mind started doing weird things. Usually at night, he was too tired to do much thinking before falling asleep. But in the mornings when he woke, if she wasn't already awake, that was when the trouble came.

Sometimes he'd wake sweating because he'd dream of people he'd known – mostly the two humans who'd taken him in after that bitch had abandoned him. Ray's lingering human smell must have triggered their memory. The couple of times he'd dreamed of them, he'd spent the entire rest of those days reticent and unwilling to even speak to Ray. She must have been worried, but Zack tried not to think too much about it. It was for her own good.

Those were the days he wanted to eat her most.

It wasn't just because she was unintentionally pricking at something that rekindled his spark of hatred for humans. Those were the first humans he ever ate, and salted pork was a poor substitute. Waking up with her scent right under his nose made him miss it. But there was something else too.

That ugly human woman who'd adopted him had petted his ears, too. That was probably what made the connection in his mind. It wasn't fair to Ray, of course, and Zack knew it. Still, he couldn't help what he dreamed.

The other weird thing that tended to happen in the mornings was much more foreign to Zack. He could explain why he'd wake up hungry from her scent. What he couldn't explain was the weird feeling he'd get some other mornings when his sleep had been dreamless. He'd wake with Ray cradled in his arms, her head on his chest, little hands near her face, maybe her leg crossing his at the ankle – and with his dick uncomfortably at least half-hard between them.

Sure, that had happened a couple of times before he met her, especially first thing in the morning. But with someone else there, especially a human girl, it would just make things awkward. He had no intention of mating with a human like some deviant, and he wasn't even sure if she would know what that was anyway. Just the thought of it was something repulsive on its face, but… was Ray really like other humans? That was the thought that nagged at him and was also possibly the source of his weird feelings. Even so, the situation also made him feel an uncomfortable combination of embarrassment, shame, and frustration. So it was always a weird struggle on those mornings to sneak out of the blankets without waking her so he could take care of it with some cold water without her knowing.

The days they traveled together were far less eventful, though. They chatted a little on the days he hadn't had nightmares, and Zack found it pleasant enough. The girl rarely smiled and never laughed, which had the strange effect of being calming and irritating at the same time. Calming because nothing made Zack want to hunt a human more than seeing them stupidly happy; with Ray, that was never really a problem. It was irritating, though, because of the lack of stimulation. Most of the time, she was just there.

He didn't want to just travel with a small shadow.

But that was mainly how it went. Making time by day and resting by night. Most nights there was only the shelter of the trees, although one night they had found another small cave in which to sleep. The nights got progressively colder, frosts going from light, sparkly, merry things, to freezing the earth solid. He'd been successful in keeping her from making a fire thus far, but his body warmth wasn't going to be enough for her soon. When the snows came, she was going to need a fire, maybe even one of the abandoned cabins they sometimes passed. Perhaps when that time came, he'd just sleep far enough away that it wouldn’t bother him. But a nagging feeling inside his head told him he probably wouldn't be able to tolerate that.

Human farming was going to be the death of him, Zack just knew it.

It was on the eleventh day of traveling together that the forest began to change around them. It was imperceptible at first: a little bark stripped from a tree here or there, some human trash by the roadside, a depression in the leaf litter, or a few broken branches. Rachel noticed those things but didn't know exactly what to make of them.

Zack seemed tense, though. A bit after lunch, Rachel could sense a shift in his behavior. He could be quiet or moody, but this seemed to be something else entirely. After a couple hours, Rachel finally placed exactly what it was: he was on guard. As they continued south, he only grew more tense.

It was close to sundown when Zack put out a hand and stopped her.

“We need to go around,” he said quietly. “Maybe closer to the main road, o-or on the other side of the river.” Rachel stayed where she was, cocking her head to the side to watch him curiously.

“What's the matter?”

“It's not good,” he growled. He was distracted now. Rachel watched him sniff the air then scan the forest with his eyes, the setting sun reflecting off his pupils. His ears flicked atop his head, clearly trying to pick up any nearby sounds. Rachel certainly couldn't hear any noises as quiet as he could. She also knew his night vision was  much better than hers; they might need it soon, it seemed.

A murder of crows erupted from a copse of trees further into the forest, creating a racket that made Rachel jump. They both watched them fly into the sunset, knowing that there was a reason the birds wanted to escape.

“Shit,” Zack breathed, watching them go. “She's already close.” Rachel’s eyes slid to meet his. She could read something very close to panic there.

“She?”

He grit his teeth and seemed hesitant to answer. Finally, after several seconds, he reached over and grabbed Rachel. Tucking her safely under his arm, he began running.

“We're in a bitch's territory,” he huffed as he ran. “I met her once, when I was just markin’ out my area. We gotta --"

Zack was cut off by a long, loud howl. He froze in place, jostling his bedroll pack as he did so. The sound sent a shudder down Rachel's spine as well. It was something she hadn't heard since the night Zack hunted her in the woods. Just as he began to run again, there was a second howl coming from the direction in which they were running.

“What the hell?!” Zack hissed, digging in his heels. “She has a pack now?!” Rachel wasn't entirely sure what was going on, but she knew that if Zack was spooked, it had to be bad.

“You don't like her?” Rachel asked. Did wolves have kingdoms and factions like humans?

“Hell, no!” he barked in return, nearly dropping her. “That crazy bitch?! I never wanna see her again, and neither do you.” As soon as he stopped talking, he started running away from the directions of the two howls. When his footsteps began sounding throughout the forest again, Rachel heard something else, too.

It was a woman's maniacal laughter.

Something about it chilled Rachel right to her very toes. She wrapped her arms around Zack as he carried her, shifting her weight to be less like a bale of hay under his arm and more like a baby clinging to its mother's side. She buried her face in his chest and held on for dear life as he picked up speed.

Then, just as suddenly, Rachel felt him stop with a jerk. She managed to hang on tight to him with a squeal, but it was obvious his foot was caught on something. Only a fraction of a second more saw them both tumble to the forest floor. Zack broke her fall, holding tight and making sure she didn't roll away. With a crash, the bedroll pack he'd been carrying dislodged and broke apart on the forest floor; the barrels rolled across the leafy ground while the blanket tangled into a jumbled heap.

Rachel and her basket fared much better, though. When she opened her eyes again, she was laying on top of the wolf, hands clutching his hooded jacket.

“Shit fuck godDAMN!” The expletives poured out in a steady, hushed stream. Even so, Rachel knew something was wrong. She’d seen Zack stumble before; he always got back up afterwards. But this time, he wasn't moving from his spot.

“Zack?” Rachel breathed, pushing off his chest and supporting herself with her arms. His face was contorted in pain, but he still managed to acknowledge her when she called to him.

“I'm stuck,” he growled. Rachel looked down at his legs. One of them was caught in a metal clamp, the kind Rachel knew was used for hunting bears and deer. If her leg had been the one caught in that, she was sure it would've been bitten clean off. Zack's leg was at least somewhat protected by his boot, but Rachel could see that the teeth of the trap were digging into the boot.

Suddenly, the sounds of laughter and stomping were much closer. Rachel pulled at his jacket, trying to brace herself on the ground and pull him away from the trap. She slipped against the cold, wet leaves and couldn't get purchase, but she doubted it would matter anyway; she wasn't strong enough to be able to pull the trap out of where it was staked to the ground. Zack growled in response anyway.

“Stop it,” he hissed. “I can't avoid her now. But you gotta hide.” Rachel could see he was deathly serious. In response, she frantically scanned the woods. Dusk was falling quickly and her vision was nowhere near good enough to outwit a wolf.

“Where?” she asked breathlessly. Zack had sat up by then; with a great deal of effort, he then pushed himself to his feet. As soon as he was standing, he grabbed Rachel's cloak, pulling her to him. Then he hoisted her up by her waist. For just a second, he held her aloft and she went perfectly limp. It was strange, but even though he'd acted suddenly, she knew she could trust him.

Then, unsteadily, he braced himself against the forest floor and sent her flying. The next thing she knew, Rachel was lying draped across a low tree branch, her basket still on her arm. After a moment of shock, she pulled the rest of her body up onto the branch. Once she was better balanced against the trunk of the tree, she turned back to look at Zack. He was trying to yank the bear trap out of where it was bolted to the ground.

“Zack?”

“Just stay up there!” he barked back. “If she sees you, she'll kill you!” Rachel squeezed herself closer to the tree. She wanted to die, certainly, but she had promised her body to Zack for food. Strangely, she wanted to know he'd be okay after she was gone.

“She'll eat me?”

“No, stupid, she'll just kill you!” he huffed, still struggling with the trap. “We're in her territory, you're a strange female, and she's probably in heat! Now shut the hell up!” Admonished, Rachel fell quiet, clinging to the tree and trying her best not to move. The clanging noise of Zack struggling with the steel claw masked the sounds of anyone approaching.

It wasn't long until that was drowned out with the crazed laughter, too. Rachel huddled down against the tree, as still and quiet as she could possibly be. She couldn't see her yet, but she knew the wolf woman was approaching Zack in the dark. Finally, after what seemed like a small eternity, she could make out her figure.

She was dressed all in black, with a short skirt worn over a tight pair of breeches. Her neckline was low enough that even from her vantage point in the tree, Rachel could see her deep cleavage. And unlike Zack, whose hair, ears, and tail were all black, her ears and short bob were blonde, fading to pink at the tips. Her hair shone with what little light the rising moon gave off, sleek and glossy, as though she had taken great care of it. Worst of all, though, Rachel could see something that looked like a stiff, black stick held between her hands.

With a wicked smile, the wolf bitch regarded her prey. He'd stopped struggling by then and Rachel could hear his low growl.

“Well, well, well! Welcome back, Isaac!”