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skeleton-monarch · 2 years

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I don’t think I’ve seen anyone talk about this before, so I figured I’d take it upon myself to do so.

A couple years ago, I developed a skin condition called hidradenitis suppurativa, specifically in my armpits (though it can develop anywhere that the skin rubs together). The hardest part of coping with this for me (apart from the shame, cause skin conditions are so stigmatized) was the fact that I couldn’t wear deodorant anymore. Like, at all.

No one had any advice for me, my doctors shrugged and told me to get a deodorant without antiperspirant but those deodorants still caused it to flare, and it was painful.

So what the fuck was I supposed to do? I tried showering multiple times a day, but that caused flareups as well. Was I just doomed to smell all the time?

Nope! Turns out there’s plenty of solutions.

Here’s what to do if you find yourself unable to wear deodorant for long periods of time (or just if deodorant isn’t even working anymore)

-First off, accept that you’re gonna smell for a while, fuck anyone who makes fun of you for it. Humans smell, they can get over themselves.

-Buy an unscented face wash, my friend’s an aesthetician and she recommended cerave, and so far it’s one of the few that doesn’t cause a flareup!

Face wash is an underrated armpit cleanser. It’s less harsh on your skin (and armpit skin is sensitive!) and everyone I know who uses it says it works wayyyy better than body wash. Lots of soaps just mask the scent of sweat, but I’ve found that face wash actually helps get rid of it.

-Exfoliation is your friend, but be gentle! Dead skin can cause a smell buildup. Also, all the deodorant society tells us to wear can build up and clog your sweat glands (I think this is part of the reason that you will 100% smell a lot worse when you stop using deodorant. You have freed your sweat glands, they gotta adjust). I personally use a sugar scrub, which is harsher than I’d recommend to others, but it helps me prevent flareups which is all that matters to me tbh.

-And finally, trim your armpit hair. I don’t recommend shaving if you have a skin condition in that area, shaving irritates your skin, but trim your hair. Hair catches the scent of your sweat, and overtime it can just keep the smell, even after washing it.

——

That’s all of the advice I can think of rn, so you can stop here if that’s all you’re looking for, but I want to talk more to help de-stigmatize skin conditions (under the readmore)!

First off, it’s not gross if you don’t wear deodorant. Give it time, you’ll naturally start to smell less (and if you’re going through puberty? I’m very sorry but you’re going to smell until your hormones chill. It’s life). Deodorant can actually clog your sweat glands, cause buildup, and cause inflammation of your skin, making you smell worse. My aunt (without a skin condition affecting her underarms) stopped wearing deodorant and reports that she smells less than she ever had before.

If you find your skin in the armpit area (including towards your chest and a bit down your ribs) becoming itchy, tender, or forming lumps? Do yourself a favor and stop using deodorant then and there. Don’t wait for it to get worse, because let me tell you, skin irritation in areas that constantly rub? Not fun. Also get any lumps checked out by a dermatologist if you can, there’s a lot of lymph nodes in your armpits, it’s a prime spot for a lot of health conditions that are better caught early (also breast tissue extends to under your arms, so if you’re at risk for breast cancer, remember that).

If you still smell, please don’t give up and go back to deodorant. Fuck anyone who gives you shit for it. Humans smell and they can learn to deal. Your right to exist comfortably within the realms of your health conditions is more important than anything else. Also, a dermatologist might be able to help figure out a solution, so check with one if you can!

Skin conditions aren’t shameful, and I honestly think deodorant is the devil. It’s harsh and antiperspirants have been linked to negative armpit health. Armpit skin is thinner than most of your other skin and more prone to irritation, like the skin on your face or genitalia. It’s pretty commonly accepted that you shouldn’t be putting harsh chemicals or scents in those areas, I don’t think armpits should be treated any different.

Anyways, shoutout to those of us with skin conditions. Sores, rashes, lesions, bumps, wrinkles, and whatever else they might entail. They don’t make us gross, they don’t mean we’re unhygienic, and we deserve to be comfortable and exist without shame.

#i honestly don’t know if this will help anyone. but i figured i’d rather put it out there and help no one #than not say anything when there’s the possibility someone is looking for this info #skincare #skin condition #hidradenitis suppurativa #i don’t know other skin conditions in the armpit area but this is for y’all too #feel free to share tips/your experiences/your stories/your conditions/whatever as well #i’m tired of feeling ashamed because of a health condition #disability

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everythingyouwanted · 2 years

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Harsh Night and Gentle Hands

Soft!Boba Fett X Fem!Reader

Okay okay, I know I said I wasn’t gonna post my own stuff, but this is a little drabble about sleepy cuddles with Boba. This is lightly self indulgent but it turned out longer than I thought it would so I’m gonna post it?? Its on Ao3 too :)

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, past slavery, cannon typical violence.

WC: 1.8k

very fluffy, a little self indulgent, I just want a hug from boba tbh. this is literally the first boba thing i’ve written pls don’t tear me apart. this is NOT edited, bc my intention was for it to be like 500 words lmao.

You were no stranger to the way the cold bit into you after the twin suns had set, having 'worked' in the Hutt's palace for many years. The stone palace was quick to chill once the warmth of the suns dissipated, and tonight was no different.

You had worked for new Diamyo for a few months now after he killed Fortuna and took the throne for himself. While being enslaved working for the Hutt's, and then later Fortuna, you expected Boba to be just as cruel as the previous Diamyos. You heard the stories of his life as a bounty hunter and mercenary, succeeding his father, and heard the tales of his cruelty. But, when he arrived at the palace he offered you, and the other slaves, freedom.

The offer was too good to be true, you had thought. The few friends you had within the walls took him up on the offer, but you on the other hand, didn't. Where would you even go? You lived most of your life as a slave for the Hutts and it was all you knew. The few things you had wouldn't get you very far.

Even though you had heard the awful tales of the great Boba Fett, some part of you felt safer inside the palace. So, you stayed. Boba made sure you knew you no longer were a slave and you insisted you had nowhere else to go. He actually employed you, you acted as a sort of maid around the palace, though you much preferred the kitchen, and he paid you good credits.

This was intriguing to Boba, he offered you freedom and you turned it down. From the moment he first saw your little frame in the sea of bodies, your wide eyed gaze, he was captivated.

Since then you had gotten to better know your new boss. Boba was hardened after the life he lived and his walls were built sturdy and high. But somehow, much to his surprise, you managed to see past the cold mask of beskar. To you, Boba wasn't any of the horrors people say he was. He was never hostile towards you, and in your mind that made him kinder than most you'd met.

You two had something akin to a friendship. You would tell him about your day, and he would hang off your every word, not that you noticed. You would never truly believe that the Great Diamyo could think of you as anything but a maid beneath him. He wouldn't admit it, not even to himself, but you had him wrapped around your little finger. And truthfully, it scared him. He’d know you for so little time, and yet he was enraptured by you. He barely knew you and yet somehow you managed to make him feel like he hadn't felt in a long time. You made him feel like a man, not the most fearsome bounty hunter in the galaxy, not the new ruler of Tattooine, but something human.

So now, while you're freezing under the thin blanket in your quarters, you're thinking of him. You recall him telling you that if you ever needed anything to let him know. You don't know what you need. The day was long, and that same familiar feeling of panic wedged between your ribs again. The years you spent as a slave took a toll on you, they conditioned you to live in fear. And while some of that fear has dissipated, sometimes that dread comes back to haunt you. Like tonight, all you want to do was curl up and cry. You're cold and exhausted, and that weight is sitting on your chest, and all you want is comfort. And you decide to go to the only comfort you've ever known.

You've got the thin blanket wrapped around around your shoulders as you pad across the palace, now shivering from the cold floor. When you reach Boba's room you lightly rasp your knuckles against the door, hoping he isn't asleep.

Boba cautiously opens the door, not knowing who would be at his door at this time of night, except Fennec but the knock was too gentle to be hers. When he sees you on the other side of the door panic fills him. What are you doing here, are you hurt? Did something happen? He automatically assumes the worst and gently pulls you into the room, somewhat checking you over. Once he's content that you are, in fact, physically okay, he absorbs the fact that you're here. In his room, shivering under a thin blanket. He thinks you look absolutely adorable draped in the blanket and, just for a moment, allows himself to indulge in the thought of you actually being here -- with him.

"Little one, are you okay?" His brows are knit in worry, you note. He's without his armor, and shirtless. Maker, he's so beautiful. His body is littered in scars, some old and some newer from his brush with the sarlacc. You've never seen him so vulnerable before, so human.

"Oh, yes. No. I dono. I'm just, I'm cold Boba. An' scared." You're fiddling with the hem of your blanket, looking at your sock covered feet. Your face heats up, now suddenly embarrassed as you think of how dumb he must think you are. You just worried him for no real reason. "M' sorry, I'm just gonna go back to my room. Sorry Boba, have a good night!" You attempt to turn swiftly on your heel to leave but Boba catches your arm.

"No, no sweetheart, come here." He walks you over to his bed, your hand felt cold in the warmth of his larger one. Now you're seated on the edge of his large bed and he stands towering above you, looking down at you. He's holding both of your hands in his now. "Whats wrong? You're freezing, here," He wraps you up in a much larger, thicker blanket -- one that smells like him, the scent easing that weight inside you.

"I dono, it's just heavy? I'm so sleepy but I can't sleep, its too cold and its-" You don't finish your sentence, you don't know what to say or how to explain it. You can feel the tears building up behind your eyes, it's all too much.

Boba brings your hands up to place a gentle kiss to the backs of your knuckles, the rugged feel of his large hands over yours. "It's okay, little one. It's okay. Come here." Even to him its shocking, he's never felt like this before, never having felt like he needed to comfort anyone. But seeing you like this hurts a piece of him, somehow. He brings his big arms up around you, cradling you in the warmth of his body. You feel so little, so delicate, in his arms and for one of the first times in his life he feels like he needs to protect someone other than himself.

The weight of his body wrapped protectively, comfy, around your frame lifts some of the weight off your chest. You loosen up in his hold, the tension in your shoulders easing as you soak up the heat of his body.

"You're so cold, baby. There you go. Do you want to stay here, will you stay here?" He's asking before he can stop himself, you're so vulnerable in his arms and he can't bear the thought of you returning back to your quarters, not like this. He wants to wrap you up in his arms and hold you for as long as he can, to feel you protected and warm snuggled against him.

"Boba I can't," You trail off, you want nothing more than to lie comfortably in his arms, but you can't. Trying to remember that you're just a maid in his palace, merely a friend.

But Boba isn't having any of it, "If it will make you feel better, stay. If I can help you, please little one, let me help you." He's looking into your eyes, care shining in the most beautiful brown eyes you've ever seen. Realizing he wants you to stay, you nod your head at him. Boba lets out the breath he'd been holding, his lip curls up into something reminiscent to a smile; he feels something he's never truly felt before: trusted. You trust him enough to come to him for comfort and the thought fills him with bliss.

He's tucking you into his bed, you look so little in the large bed, wrapped up in thick blankets. "Do you want me to join you?" He asks after he's satisfied with the number of blankets you're now covered with.

"Yes, if you would. Please, Boba." Your response is quick, and after realizing how eggar you were to welcome him into bed with you, your cheeks heat up all over again. Boba, on the other hand, is quick to accept your answer as he turns off the lights and climbs in behind you.

He can't help himself from pulling you into him once more, wrapping your petite frame in his arms. Your legs are tangled together and your head is resting on his large chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. Your hands were brought up to your chest as you curled into him. One of Boba's calloused hands is resting on your hip and the other is cradling your ribs, the heat of his body chasing off the chill in your bones and the feeling of his comfort eased your fears.

Boba had never known something so soft, at least not for a very long time. He lived the majority of his life simmering in violence, aching for revenge, and ignoring the loneliness that ate away at bits of him. But now, here he is; holding you so gently in his arms, he feels grounded. He didn't know he was capable of being so tender, he didn't know he could feel so light.

As for you, you haven't felt comfort like this in so long, you can't recall ever feeling this comfortable. You're snuggled up in the big bad bounty hunter's arms and you have never felt safer, nobody has ever held you with such gentle hands. Your eyes are fluttering closed and your breathing levels, you cuddle impossibly closer to Boba and drift off in his arms, the last thing you remember is the heat of his body that enveloped you and the sound of his softened voice. "Sleep, little one. You're safe with me, I won't let anything happen to you, ever."

In the near darkness, Boba watches as you drift away in his arms and he holds you tighter. He hasn't felt home in a long time, but with you in his arms -safe and sound- he feels like maybe, just maybe, he's found his home again.

#boba fett #soft!boba #boba fett x reader #boba fett fluff #boba fett cuddles #sleepy boba #soft!boba fett

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thiserichann · 3 years

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cookies and cream - lee jeno

reader x jeno

genre: smut, strangers to fuck buddies, humor if you squint hard enough

word count: 4k-ish

warnings: recklessness (she met with a stranger online, don’t do it kids) excessive lying, 18+ scenes that includes: oral (f receiving) face riding, soft dom!jeno?

This is merely a work of fiction and is not meant to hurt the image of Jeno and NCT. Again, don’t be as reckless as OP. This was just a fantasy of mine that I’ve been dying to get out of my system.

Holy fuck.

That's the only word that you've managed to utter when you decided to check your messages that morning.

You got bored in the middle of the class and decided to sneak a peek on your phone to pass the time. The class is recorded anyways so you can always just go back to the parts of the lessons that you've missed.

But holy fuck.

You never expected to see THAT so early in the morning.

"Miss Y/N?"

You snapped back to reality and stopped malfunctioning for a second when somebody called your name. Everyone including your professor remained quiet and all eyes are on you.

"Oh. Sir what’s the question again?"

You answered nervously as you tried to review your notes and backtrack on what he is discussing a few moments ago.

"I see that you're distracted in the middle of my class again. Mind sharing what you're occupied with?"

"Uhm. I was watching KPOP fancams, sir."

"Fancams won't get you into law school, Miss Y/N. Phones off please."

You tucked your phone back to your pocket and never picked it up again since. The professor started blabbering again but no information is being retained on your head. It stayed that way at your other classes.

You wished you were looking at some KPOP fancams earlier. You’ve watched fancams at class before and got away with it unscathed.

Oh no. It was a goddamn dick pic.

A good one, too.

It was from a guy that you met in a kink site a few days ago. You created the account out of boredom and expected nothing to come out from it. It’s all the flirting and sexting without all the unnecessary commitment

It only took you a few minutes to set up an account. For some privacy, you made a random birthdate and a random nickname, because like hell would you share your real information to these people. You also picked a racy picture of a lady that looked a bit like you and passed it off as your own.

Within minutes, your inbox is flooded with messages. Most of them, however, are from men who are old enough to be your father.

Well, you were bored, so you entertained everyone and then went on back to your boring, vanilla life. A few political history and theory books later, you went back to see which ones messaged you on the site.

And that's where you've met him.

The most gorgeous piece of meat alive.

He seems like a nice guy. He introduced himself as LJ and your age aren’t that far off from each other. LJ is the only one who actually engaged in conversation besides "want to fuck?" or "are you horny?"

As soon as you started messaging back and forth, you scrolled on his profile to see what he looks like. The only thing is, his profile looked a whole lot like those high fashion male underwear photoshoots.

It was an array topless pictures (presumably his, you just can’t be bothered to check if it is actually his). It featured his sculpted abs and biceps, cropped up all the way to his full lips. Despite not seeing his whole face, you knew very well that he’s a hunk. To say you were intrigued is an understatement.

Since then, you've been talking back and forth through Snapchat (your secret one because you're not stupid) and sent him actual pictures of yourself, completely omitting the face. You took one from your bed, your bathtub, and probably every part of your house that you felt is sexy enough to be included on the pics.

You can't tell him if it's him or the repressed sexual urges finally manifesting itself after more than a year of not getting laid, but every text to and from him made your heart race. It was something that you looked forward to every hour everyday.

Hours went by that you totally forgot leaving him on read. You climbed up to your bed to rest your back to the headboard and opened your unread messages.

You: Hey svlr. School stuff.

He opened the chat and started typing right away.

LJ: Oh good. I thought I did something wrong to upset you.

You: Not at all. I loved the pic by the way. It literally knocked my socks off.

LJ: Just the socks?

You: You can take the rest of it off yourself ;)

You scoffed. The flirty banter has always been there ever since you started talking but nothing really came out of it.

LJ: If only I could :(

You: I know. Covid’s a bitch.

You set your phone aside for a second to go to the bathroom. On your way, you picked up some snacks at the fridge and sat back down to your bed, only to find your phone blowing up.

LJ: If you're down maybe we could meet

LJ: It's totally fine if you don't want to

LJ: I just made it weird, didn't I?

LJ: I'm so sorry I brought it up in the first place

LJ: I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable

LJ: Hello?

LJ: I'm really sorry

You: Chill. I'm right here

You: I just went to the bathroom

LJ: Oh

You: I'd be lying if I said I don't want to meet you as well

You: Well... I wouldn't write off the idea

You: But with the Covid

LJ: Thoughts?

You: I don't think it's a great idea

The screen says Seen right at the bottom but it took him a couple more minutes before finally replying.

LJ: I understand

LJ: But in case you change your mind, I'll leave the time and place up to you

LJ: I’ll take care of the rest

LJ: Deal?

You: I'll sleep on it.

You: Speaking of sleep, I gotta go. Morning class.

LJ: Okay. I guess this is good night then

You didn't, in fact, talk to him the day after.

You'd be lying if you said that you didn't want to see him and his abs in real life. But as someone who overthinks a lot, you just can't shake off the risk.

You: Good night. Talk to you tomorrow.

What if he's not really the guy in the pics? Or he’s psycho in real life? What if he's infected the virus?

You sighed.

Why must some global pandemic ruin your sex life?

You waited until the end of the day before you finally replied to LJ. The last thing that he texted was a brief good morning from earlier in the day and nothing else. He’s actually a pretty sweet guy, totally not worth ghosting, and you actually liked talking to him as a friend that you can share your sentiments with.

With your guilt finally eating you up, you took a break from your assigned readings and sat back at your bed to rest for the day. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard for a minute, thinking of something to say to him. It took you a few tries before finally hitting the send button.

You: So, I thought about it

LJ: And?

You: I need to know I can trust you

LJ: Okay. How?

You: I don’t know. Send me a proof that you’re real. Get tested?

You: Is that fine with you?

Within a split second, he sent his reply.

He actually did it.

You couldn’t believe it but he actually did it.

LJ: Consider it done.

He got tested for physical, including the virus test, and passed with flying colors. He even sent you a vid of him inside a medical clinic.

He just sent the uncensored results this morning where you can clearly see his real name.

Lee Jeno.

LJ.

Seems legit.

Well, the uncreative nickname shouldn’t matter now because the results meant only one thing.

You’re gonna have to push through with your promise.

You got ready around noon that day. You can’t remember the last time that you actually got ready to meet someone that’s not a delivery guy or a relative passing on something to your family.

As someone who overthinks a lot, you actually got everything covered. You picked a place near a restaurant to eat. The police station is just a few blocks away just in case something happens, and right in front of a library…

“Where’re are you off to?”

You raised your backpack to show to your mother.

“I’m off to the library. I needed to get these renewed. Maybe pick up a novel or two.”

She looks at you from head to toe, eyeing that incredibly loose hoodie, faded denim jeans, some worn out sneakers that looked like it’s supposed to be thrown away years ago and a medical mask that covers about ¾ of your bare face. It’s just your usual attire whenever you go out for errands.

She just nodded and went back to watching her favorite soap opera.

“It’s nice that you’re out of your room for once. Take some cookies from the kitchen so you’ll have something to eat in case you get hungry.”

… as an alibi to get away from your strict parents.

As soon as you left the door and made sure that you’re out of sight, you found the nearest public toilet and grabbed a whole other outfit from your backpack. The hoodie is replaced by a white, ruffled see-through blouse and you ditched the jeans for a tight skirt that’s at least four inches above your knees. You tousled your hair a little bit and put on some powder and tiny hint of lipstick before putting your facemask back on again.

It’s been a while since you’ve done an elaborate scheme like this. Your skills got a little bit rusty, but they always work.

Sometimes you wonder if you’re really meant to be lawyer or a criminal instead.

You stepped out of the toilet and blended right back into society.

Now all you have to do is find wherever the hell LJ is.

Jeno sat anxiously as he waited for you right inside the café. He’s on his fourth cup of coffee but it didn’t do anything to calm his nerves down (geez I wonder why).

You: I’m almost at the café.

He’s been staring at his phone the whole time. Once he received your message, which is a pic of you in the bathroom after the outfit change, he almost choked on his drink.

This message sent him on a panic as he turned his camera on to see how he looked. He did some minor adjustments to his hair and he wiped off his eyeglasses clean with the sleeves of his hoodie (which did nothing for him by the way) and then casually sat down and played it off cool like he hasn’t been waiting for you for over an hour.

On your perspective, you walked inside the café and looked around for LJ. Fortunately, there was only guy inside the café, twiddling with his phone on his hands and as he kept on peeking through the glass windows as if he’s looking for someone.

From afar, he actually looked really cute. His appearance, a shy, nerdy dude with glasses, looked way off from the fuckboy image that you expected him to have in reference to the messages that you’ve been getting from him.

It’s always the quiet ones that are kinky. You should know, you are one.

You walked over to his table and tapped his shoulders to get his attention.

He froze for a moment before he finally managed to turn around and face you.

“You’re actually here.”

“I know. I’m just as surprised as you are.”

tap tap tap tap

The room is so quiet that the only thing you can hear is the sound of your heels tapping against the tiled floor. You can say that that is one of your observable annoying habits tapping your foot on the floor when you're a nervous wreck.

Sighing in retaliation, you removed your hoodie, fanning yourself as you tried to relax and get comfy on the hotel couch (which should be comfortable enough since you paid a shit ton of money on that room), switching the TV on to get your mind off of things. The lackluster array of shitty sitcoms didn’t distract you at all, but it instead reminded you of the reasons why you’re in that room in the first place.

Having nothing to do to pass the time, you paced back and forth in the room, finally sitting down once you realized that it looks way worse than you just tapping your foot. You folded your arms right across your chest, looking at the watch from time to time but the hands of the clock seem to be moving slower the more you stare at it.

Quarantine started almost a year ago and it's been very hard for you. Sexually. It's been almost a year since you've been touched by a man and you’re more than ready to jump on anyone’s dick at any this point,

Too bad that that dick is taking his sweet time in the bathroom.

tap tap tap tap

Your foot found its rhythm once again, only this time, you’re not nervous anymore. Your patience is wearing thin.

As if summoned by the constant tapping, the guy comes out of the bathroom, just casually drying himself while wearing nothing but the towel dangerously hanging on his waist and a boyish smile on his lips.

No biggie.

"Hey."

Suddenly, you’re not tapping anymore.

Head empty, just thoughts of a hot guy patting down a towel all over his toned body.

“I hope I didn’t make you wait for too long.”

He spoke, tossing aside the towel on his hands on the sofa, finally giving you a full view of him and all his glory.

You must admit, you’re skeptical at first. The guy that’s been sending you faceless thirst traps just days ago, telling you how he’d fuck you senseless looked a lot different from the guy who entered the hotel room just a moment ago.

He came in wearing those black oversized hoodies that did a great job in hiding his best features. His hair was a bit long for your taste, covering half of his face while the face mask hid the other.

But this man right here in front you, he’s Adonis.

You unconsciously bit your lower lip, earning a chuckle from the guy.

“I’m guessing that you’d like to start now?”

You nodded, the tension and awkwardness rendering you unable to speak.

He smiles as he takes the remote from you, turning off the television because the main show is about to start.

You started to tense up again, eyes wide as you realized that he’s now right beside you, wrapping his arms around you as soon as he sat down. He leans over, soft lips coming into contact with your exposed neck and shoulders, landing small pecks all over.

You sat there breathless as he slowly ran his fingers to the side of your thighs, tracing circles at it while giving small, reassuring kisses on your neck and shoulders. It’s as if he’s asking you for your consent, waiting for you to open up to him before he makes a move.

He got his answer when you turned around to face him, running your fingers into his cheeks before cupping his face, your lips finally touching his. He moved in the same pace as earlier, slow and calculating. You got a bit impatient once again, biting his lower lips gently to let him know that he can do more.

He grabbed you by the waist and successfully placed you on top of him. The kiss got even more sloppy as you ran your hands through nape, then into his soft locks. His hands travelled once again, finger running through legs again, stopping as soon as he reached the hem of your skirt, flipping it up to reveal the thin lace material that barely covered your core. You took that as initiative to remove the towel on his waist and grinded against his growing member, the friction and heat enough to earn a groan out of him.

He held your waist once again, firmly this time, halting your movement completely.

You broke away from the kiss, staring him in the eyes to read his face.

“Something wrong?”

“Hold tight.”

You were about to ask about what hold tight mean, but your arms cling unto him involuntarily as he lifts the both of you out of the sofa.

Jeno laid you gently in the bed, making sure not to break eye contact as he does so. He looked like he's about to eat you alive, which is enough to send flush to your cheeks.

“I would’ve loved to bend you over that sofa, but I think it’s just proper that our first time will be on the bed.”

"God. You're beautiful."

He then ran his fingers towards the thin fabric of your blouse, feeling every part of your torso like he's memorizing every detail of it. His hands then travelled in your chest, squeezing the swell of your breasts on each hand, fingers shaking as he does so. It felt like an artist admiring his delicate work of art.

He situated himself between your legs, taking a moment to admire you first before doing anything else.

He started to run his hand on your cleavage and stopped on the uppermost button of your blouse, taking his time to remove all of them and placing a kisses at the exposed skin. After all of the buttons are taken care of, you lifted your body up and slid off the fabric. Your black lacy bra finally made its appearance. You took the liberty of taking that off too, as slow and as you possibly can.

Jeno just stared at your body in awe, breathing heavily as his eyes scanned your naked glory.

"Gorgeous."

He said under this breath before leaning down to claim your lips once again. You're turned on by how much attention he's giving your body now. You're usually loud in bed but his gestures are making you bashful. You've never felt this beautiful before.

You can feel his hands trembling as it travels all over your body, his kisses getting even more needy. There was moans of satisfaction every time he would lick your lips. Jeno was kissing you like you were oxygen and he needed to breath.

His hands travelled south, running across your thigh and your now aching core. You're about to remove your skirt and underwear but he stopped your hands midway.

"Keep it."

He took your hands away from your skirt and placed them just above your head.

"Just sit there and relax baby. Let me treat you."

You did just like he told you and gave him full control of your body.

"Good girl."

His lips brushed your ears, whispering sweet nothings about how beautiful you are under him. His kisses then went down to your neck, using his tongue and teeth, marking everything he can get his mouth on with his saliva. Meanwhile, his hands finally touched you down there, massaging your still clothed wetness.

His middle and index finger felt your slit, moving it in swift motion in search for your clit.

"Oh my god. That's it."

You gasped as his fingers finally hit the right spot, tossing your head back as his fingers made circles at your bundle or nerves.

You opened your legs more, leaning on your arms on your back, head tossed back and eyes closed as you feel your impending orgasm.

He dipped his hand inside your underwear and collected some of your essence with his fingers. The mental picture of him licking his fingers deliciously is enough to get you off for weeks.

It didn't take long before he took your panties off and his ducked his head down. He opened your legs once again and licked one long stripe on your core, making sure to taste all of you. You sat there and watch as he hungrily takes all of you in his mouth, acting like your pussy is a full course meal and he's been starving for years.

Within moments, you've become a moaning, toe curled mess. You ran your fingers to his blonde hair, guiding him on how to move his tongue and fingers on you. At one point, he bit some of your sensitive skin, making you scream a string of curses under your breath.

"Stop stop stop."

You grab a fistful of his hair and he paused from what he was doing. You pushed him gently away from you, leaving him staring at you confusedly. The confusion didn't last long when you flipped your current position, you're now on top.

"Can I ride your face?"

At this point, you're bold and horny enough to use your words and ask him. He just nodded, sliding himself from underneath you and went back to eating you like a champ. You grabbed his hands and placed them across your chest, squeezing your breasts to send him a message. He was quick to pick up and followed suit, pinching your nipples right in between fingers while your ride his face to orgasm.

"Shit. I'm coming..."

You writhed from above him as you come undone. Your body felt cold all over. Your eyes are ringing, feeling dizzy as you almost passed out while you bucked your hips a few more times to milk your release.

You didn’t have time to recover when you heard your phone ringing from outside. Your legs felt a little shaky and you almost tumbled and hit your head in the wall if Jeno didn’t help you get up. You sat down on the floor, butt-ass naked as you frantically searched for your phone from under all of your stuff before you finally pressed the answer button.

“Yes mom?”

“Where have you been? Your father’s been looking for you at the library. He’s picking you up on your way home.”

You buried your head on the couch to shake off the buzzing feeling on your head. You placed a pillow on your body while you searched for your discarded clothes all over the hotel room.

“Oh yeah. I went to the café and got something to eat. Tell Dad I’ll meet him outside the library.”

“Okay sweetie. Can you pick up some groceries on your way back? I’ll text you the list.”

“Yeah mom. Bye.”

You breathe a sigh of relief as you started putting on the outfit that you wore when you left home.

“Where are you going?”

Jeno reluctantly got dressed as well, his shy demeanor came back as soon as he wore his glasses and fixed his hair.

“I got to go, Jeno. I’m sorry that I’m leaving in such a bad time…”

You went over to him and placed a sweet kiss on his lips.

“I promise to make it up to you next time, okay? I’d love to meet you again.”

You grabbed a paper bag from your backpack and handed it to him, waving as you bolted out the door.

After fixing his things, he sat down for a moment and took a quick peek inside the package that you left him.

It was a ziplock bag of full of cookies and a whole other treat.

You left him your two-piece lace lingerie.

To be continued.

#nct #nct dream #nct u #nct x reader #nct smut #nct jeno #nct hard hours #jeno #jeno scenarios #jeno au #jeno smut #lee jeno #jeno imagines #jeno x reader

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queeen-goldfish · 3 years

Text

5 Stages of A Heartbreak 1/5

A/N- I did something like this a couple of years ago but I got a little insecure about it and deleted my whole account... over one story. However I found some of the plot and decided to rewrite it. My lovely friend read it and gave me the confidence I need to repost it. I hope you enjoy it!

Category~ ANGST (my fav lol)

WARNING (Triggers) - A tiny description of a Panic Attack

Peter Parker Masterlist

“Please. I- I don’t have anything, just please don’t hurt me.” you pleaded with the robber who was currently holding you at knife point. How did you get in this situation? Lord knows, but no matter where you were, trouble was always around the corner.

The man pushed his head back with a laugh, allowing the smell of alcohol to escape his mouth invading your senses. “Come one now darling don’t give me that crap” the robber spat as he began to get close to you. "You were just asking to be hurt. I mean what sane person goes through an alley all by themselves in the middle of the night , huh?” he asked you, sliding the knife down your cheek causing a chill to run down your spine. He opened his mouth once again only to be cut off by a familiar voice,

“Hey now why wasn’t I invited to the hang out”

’Oh thank God, it's Peter’ you thought to yourself. To afraid to move you stared at the multicolored brick wall accompanied by the rusted fire escape that looked too old to do any real good in any real emergency,

“Spider-man?” The robber questioned looking around trying to place a location on the young hero. Spider-man gasped dramatically, “You know who I am? Who would have known I had fans around this part of town?” He asked sarcastically as he swung from the roof onto the alley floor. Seeing Spider-man getting closer, the robber placed the knife against your neck as a warning. “Woah now let’s not get too excited” he added as he put his hands up for the robber to see

“Yeah, well we were just having a little chit chat, weren’t we darling?” the robber asked you, adding pressure to his hold on you making you whimper against the pressure.

“Tsk tsk tsk” Spider-man responded walking closer to the robber “Now thats no way to talk to the lady now is it '' he asked shooting a web onto the robbers hand pulling him away from you.

Seeing that he was in a losing battle,the robber dropped his weapon holding his hands up, “Wa-wait we can work something-” but before the man was able to say anything else he was swept off his feet and on the ground groaning in pain. Within minutes the robber was tied up and left for the clean-up department, a.k.a the police officers.

“Spider-man?” you called out. Your voice was raspy and you couldn’t control the tears that started to flow down your face with such ease. His full attention was on you, walking over slowly, he placed one hand behind his back and the other reaching out for you to grab, “Milady?” As you placed your hands upon his, he swept you off your feet and into the air. At first your eyes were closed due to the spontaneous change in altitude, but once your body calmed down you opened your eyes. Face to face with the dazzling stars that illuminated the night sky. Looking down at the city lights you could tell Peter was taking you but it didn’t stop the question from leaving your lips, “Are we going home?” you asked your voice no higher than a whisper. Peter answered your question with a gentle squeeze but not a word was spoken until you two landed on top of your building's roof.

“Peter- I mean-” you cleared your throat a bit nervous,“Spiderman. Uuh- Thanks” you said, feeling the blush creep up your neck. You were used to speaking to Peter, but never when he was in his suit, it almost felt too- unreal.

Peter snatched off his mask from his face, searching your body with his eyes for anything out of place. Only then did you notice the way his breath was almost shaky, like the reality of it all just hit him. Any other day you would have looked away too afraid to be caught staring, but the way he stood there watching over you like it was his only reason to live had you memorized. The only thing that took you out of his trance was the crack in his voice as he grabbed your shoulders, “I thought, I thought I lost you. I heard your voice but I didn’t think it was you- or- I, I don’t know but I just knew I had to come and then I did and he had a knife against your throat and- oh God '' he cried taking in a sharp breath. Placing a hand on his cheek you rubbed the tears away with your thumb. He put his hand over yours, caressing it ever so gently staring into your eyes. You tried to think of something to say, something that may ease the shock he had on his face but before you could even form the words he pulled you into a kiss, only coming up for air to look into your eyes and kiss you all over again.

After a moment Peter stopped and looked at you for what seemed like forever, “I know this is sudden but-” Peter pulled a candy ring-pop from dropping down on one knee. You chuckled looking between the boy you’ve loved for so long and the sugary treat he held in his hand. “This ring pop is- well a little smashed up-” you both laughed at the statement, you couldn’t figure out if it was the adrenaline or pure happiness but you felt like you could run a mile. “- But I was hoping that you would still at least let me do my romantically cringy speech” you nodded and he chuckled nervously, “ Okay here it goes, y/n?”

“Emhmm” you tried to contain your smile with your hands but you were sure it could be seen from miles away.

“Y/n”

“Uh-huh” you said, egging him to go on. Suddenly his facial features changed like there was something wrong. “Peter you're scaring me what's wron-”

“You’re gonna be late?” he said drooping the candy ring pop looking around

“Peter what? What are you talking about'' Peter grabbed your hand pulling you closer to the edge, “Peter you’re scaring me what's going on”

“You have to wake up”

“What-” He shoved you off the building and as soon as you hit the ground-

“Peter!” You popped up huffing as you looked around only to meet face to face with your mother.

“No it’s not Peter, it’s your mother. It’s about time you woke up” your mother yelled as she picked up the dirty clothes that were on your floor and placed them into a hamper.

“Mom, you scared me! I think you just ended my life…. in my dreams!”

“Yeah, well if picking up your dirty clothes at this age is going to be a normal activity of mine, I guess my life ended ages ago. So you can call us even.” she said without hesitation while taking the hamper exiting the room, “You need to be out of the house in twenty minutes!”

“Yes ma’am” You said sighing as you swung you leg off the bed

I mean of course it was just a dream. Perfect Peter would never do anything that heroically romantic...Not to you at least. You guys had been friends for over 10 years- no, not just friends, best friends.So close that he feels the need to tell you every single detail about his crush, Ms. Liz freakin Allen. As if your love for him wasn’t already impossible, he goes and crushes on the rich ‘cheerleader’ with brains. Not to mention he talks about her all the time, even at this very moment! I guess you don’t mind his little rambles, or at least you pretend you don’t. It gives you an excuse to admire his features a little more. Like his mesmerizing lips that moved so elegantly as he talked. Making the most boring of subjects an entertaining sport. The way he casually bit his lip as he smiled or when his tongue would tease you with a quick game of peek a boo as they swept across his bottom lip. Or the way he just said your name so sweet like the morning dew on a summers day.You loved the way your named rolled off his tongue with… wait-

“Y/n!” Peter called, you looked up at him confused, why on earth was he shouting your name like that? “Y/n are you even listening?” Peter Parker asked, making your stomach drop a bit. Of course you weren’t listening; he was ranting about Ms.Perfect, but you didn’t expect to be quizzed on the subject.

Giving a chuckle you pulled on your sleeve out of habit, “um of course, I just.. Zoned out for a second.. Or two” you explained looking down at your half eaten pizza. The school pizza didn’t look all that appetizing, but anything was better than looking into Peter’s eyes. That boy could read you like a book with no cover. You heard him give a small chuckle, that made the ends of your lips curve up. His soft laugh gave you the ability to look up at him. At the moment he was combing his fingers through his hair as he bit the side of his lip, something he did quite often to stop from smiling but his smile was almost memorizing. The way his smile could melt you from the inside out was almost scary.

He looked back at you shaking his head jokingly, “Well I guess I’ll just have to tell you again won’t I? I was telling you guys that I finally asked Liz out” he said simply. It took you a moment to process his words. You were waiting for the punchline, the “Ha you should have seen your face”. Yet the only thing you got was the gut punching feeling in your stomach that made you want to throw up your half eaten pizza, and the breakfast you thought would have been devoured by now. It’s not that bad, keep it together just nod just do something just don’t- “Y/n?” All eyes were on you. Peter. Ned. Mj...Peter. You could feel the lump in your throat building and your breath begin to shorten so you smiled and nodded, taking a deep breath, and then another but it was as if your lungs had stopped listening to orders.

You heard Mj grab her bag and grab yours too, “I just forgot me and Y/n have a project we need to work on-” she said handing you your stuff and pushing you towards the cafeteria exit

“What right now?!” Peter asked, you were still walking, afraid a tear would slip if you turned back now.You could hear MJ talking to him in a rushed voice. Something about a deadline and in a hurry.When she finally caught up to you she led you to the nearest bathroom and locked the main door.You leaned onto the bathroom counter trying to focus your breathing as she looked under each stall until she was satisfied no one was in there.

“I can't- I can’t” your chest tightened and the lack of air made your face feel like a thousand needles were poking at it. Panic attacks weren’t very foreign to you but they didn’t happen very often, however when they did Mj was the first to help you. To be completely honest she was the only one you were comfortable helping you in this state.

“I know I know, sit down okay just sit and look at me, just like last time remember” You nodded as she took a deep breath and you tried to mimic her.She continued to do this until you remembered how to breathe. In between she would ask you silly questions to get your mind off the obvious.

Once you were calm you sat there looking at the wall, “I knew he would never love me but it still hurts” You explained your voice cracking as the tears built back up. You and Peter had known each other for ten years and you guys were immediately besties. You caught feelings after two year.. And after all this time you finally get your heartbroken by Perfect Parker. “I was never going to be good enough...was I?” You sobbed into Mj’s shoulder.

“It’s okay, let it out” Mj said, holding your sobbing body. One second you were fine, having a normal day with your friends, and in a blink of an eye your world came crumbling down. The only piece of dignity you had left, went out the window the moment you sat in the corner of this dirty bathroom crying your eyes out about a boy who would never think of you as more than just a friend.

I heard a story about a girl who loved her best friend. She spent days watching him as if her feelings were nothing more than a friendship. Her heart tugged as she heard him talk about his new profound love. It made her stomach twist with the way his eyes sparkled when he talked about a girl she knew wasn’t her. The butterflies she once had, had grown into jealous moths ready to attack any sort of light left within her.Every insecurity she had was labeled as another reason her best friend didn't view her like he did other girls.I heard that she continued to smile as if nothing was wrong. She even laughed when the timing was right. I haven’t gotten to the end of the story yet..The girl does seem kind of stupid though huh…

Chapter 2

#peter #peter parker x reader #peter x reader #peter x y/n #tom #tom holland #angst #peter parker #peter parker angst #tom holland x you #x reader #newauthor

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unstoppableforcce · 3 years

Text

when the dust settles

—CHAPTER ONE: in which we meet our sheriff

pairing: Din Djarin x f reader

art | next part | masterlist

a/n: a short little intro chapter before we get into the dark depth of the series, I hope you enjoy, I know my writing inspiration isn’t always consistent but I’m kinda hooked on what I have in the works for this !!

There was a storm coming.

A dry, desert storm. The worst kind of storm. It was the kind of storm that settled in his battle-worn joints, weighing heavy in his thick, scarred muscles as he clambered down off his steady steed.

The wind was slowly picking up around him as he busied his leather-covered hands with the dusty rope knotted together beside his knapsack, each gust swooping and swirling around him, whipping the dry desert sand into his side and threatening to pull his hat away from his head with each and every pass. He couldn’t stand it. The wind, the early dregs of the storm, the town, all of it.

Arvala wasn’t much of a town, but from what he could see of it as he glanced around back over his shoulder, holding his hat in place atop his head, he knew he didn’t like it.

He wanted to get his directions and be on his way before the storm had the chance to settle overhead.

Fighting through the last restraining knot from the loop of rope, he made quick work of retying a few knots to keep the towering grey horse where he stood beside the dilapidated railing of the seemingly empty building. That was yet another thing that irked him about the surrounding dusty, one-street township.

It was empty.

Spare the vague hints of movement that caught his eye through the second story surrounding windows and the occasional body he saw crossing the empty street, the town seemed nearly devoid of souls. It settled a chill in the base of his spine, a chill he couldn’t escape. Unnerving was putting it gently, disturbing was a far more accurate descriptor.

Arvala wasn’t much of a town, but he wanted out of it.

Razor bucked gently at his side, knocking his heavy head into his shoulder to drag his attention back from the desolate town around them, but all he could offer the dark steel grey steed was a soft brush against his dusty mane in response.

“I just need directions,” he mused almost silently, realizing he was speaking to the horse as much as he was reminding himself. “Just directions.”

The saloon was the only real building with any sign of life, the dull hum of vigorous conversation from inside vibrating out the chipped red painted doors and meeting his ears as he stalked further into the town. There was something comforting about that, it did little to damper the tormenting chill still haunting him at the base of his spine, but at least it was something.

Something that only got better as he got closer to the building and the noise echoing out of it.

The doors were thrown open as a lone figure emerged, gifting him a brief second to look inside, just enough to see a few tables packed with men, cards, and drinks, a combination he was certainly not looking forward to as he continued up the dusty wooden steps. He stole a glance back to his side as well, to the shrouded figure who had emerged just a second before, now knelt down beside the rickety bench with a hammer in hand, but didn’t direct any more thought that way. He just needed directions.

Directions and he’d be gone.

The voices became less like a hum and much more like a rancorous chaos the second he pushed through the dilapidated doors. He hated men that drank like this, spilling themselves out across the card-covered tables, downing drinks as fast as they could be poured. They filled towns like this, he couldn’t stand towns like this.

Moving to the counter, he did his best to pay them as much mind as he had paid the figure out front. He just needed directions. He needed directions and then he’d be gone--

“Can I help you with something, sweetheart?”

His head snapped to the friendly tone as it cut through the disgusting chuckles and belching happening behind him, finding the friendly face the words belonged to easily as she wiped down a mess from the bar top beside him. Sweet, kind eyes, an effortless drawl to her tone. How she could tolerate being stuffed in a saloon with the likes of the men behind him, he truly didn’t understand.

He cleared his throat, adjusting the black bandana to keep it taut over his nose and face. “I’m looking for direct--”

“Bull shit, you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!” A man shouted from behind him, the vulgar tone accompanied by a brutal slap to the hardwood table top and a clattering of glasses against each other. It was violent and aggressive and his gloved fist clenched as the cacophony of sounds interrupted him. He couldn’t stand-- no, he hated towns like this.

“Honey?” The gentle drawl drew him back. “You’re looking for what?”

“I’m looking for--”

“It is NOT bull shit, Taro, you need to shut your goddamn mouth and put your money on the table.” A second man countered, as disgusting in his aggression as the first had been, if not more so.

Against the countertop, his tight fist clenched further, his blunt nails digging deep into the worn leather around his grip. “I’m looking for--”

“Don’t tell me what to do with my money.”

He just couldn’t take it anymore.

His stubborn temper had a mind of it’s own, forcing his practiced hand to the familiar grip of his pistol and drawing it in a split second, faster than any of the men at the table behind him. The cool metal of the tip found a comfortable resting point at the back of the closest man’s head, buried in the thick head of dark hair and the men surrounding him all quickly jumped to attention even in their drunken haze, drawing their own weapons and leveling them back his way.

Four to one. There were worse odds.

“What in the stars above is your problem, man?” The words escaped the targeted man’s mouth laced with fear and confusion as his hands lifted in surrender at his side.

Glancing at all the surrounding drunken men, they wore a look similar to that tone. Frightened, disoriented, and too drunk to truly comprehend what they were witnessing in their typically mundane saloon. Good, he thought callously, it was what they deserved.

“I’m trying to ask a question.” His level voice explained as the man at the other end of his pistol began to tremble gently against the metal pressed into his skull.

The tallest of the men stood across from him, gun drawn, shrugged his shoulders in a confused aggression, “four against one and he’s trying to ask a question?”

The masked man merely pushed the pistol further into the skull of the trembling man, nodding his head forward with the forceful pressure.

“Well, go on, ask it, lord knows we ain’t gonna stop ya now.” The shaking man scrambled desperately, unable to stop his surrendered hands from shaking even as he raised them to ensure the men standing in his defense didn’t do anything stupid on his behalf.

“I need directions to the Arvala seventh, which way from here--”

This time, it wasn’t the chaos within which cut him off before he could finish a singular thought, but the sound of the doors as they opened with a careless slam. With a hammer twirling mindlessly in your hand as he turned to see you saunter in, he quickly recognized you as the figure he had paid such little attention to as he entered. But the men at the table recognized you in a different way, their shoulders falling in on themselves with a relaxed sigh of relief slipping through their lips.

He saw the shoulder holsters first. Then the badge.

“Fixed the bench out front…” An almost unnatural mixture of disappointment and exhausted cradled your tone as each of lazy words fell from your lips, dripping with both an air of confidence and layer of hesitance as you carefully eyed the scene before you. Even as you passed the hammer off to the kind barkeep, your stare stayed trained on the lone intruder in the bar, “What’s going on in here, boys?”

“Brown eyes over here is looking for the seventh.”

Disappointment and exhaustion, your entire form exuded it effortlessly as the immediate scoff tumbled from your lips. “The seventh, huh?... Guild?”

He didn’t know what to do with himself. As abrupt as his sudden draw had been, there had been a careful purpose to it, one he threw his whole heart behind in the moment, but now, with your careful stare holding on him, he didn’t know what to do with himself. His pistol was still leveled with the man’s skull, but even as the entire tone of the room shifted, you made no move to draw, no physical threat of any kind. The only movement in the whole establishment was that of the men across from him, lowering their weapons as they watched you and your trusted presence.

He didn’t know what to do.

Stealing a careful glance of his own around the room before his shrouded stare found it’s way back to you, he felt as though he had no choice left but to lower his pistol. He didn’t holster it, not yet, but he lowered it as his rough answer escaped his masked mouth.

“Yes.”

“Well…” your shoulders lifted and fell in an exhausted excuse for a shrug as you took another step closer. “This ain’t it.”

The men across the table relaxed the rest of the way as you encroached, holstering their weapons and even reaching their filthy hands towards their abandoned, unfinished drinks, again, leaving him no choice but to do the same. As he placed the cool metal back into his worn leather holster, he lifted his hands in a brief show of surrender, still incapable of gauging whether or not it was the right move.

But he had nothing else to go off of.

“Can you tell me how to get there?” He tried again, hesitant with his words as every stare in the building stayed trained on him.

Again, a rough scoff burst from your lips without any move to muffle it. “Ride, for the most part.”

“I mean--”

The kind-eyed bartender reappeared at your side, effortlessly drawing your careful attention away from him by placing a dark glass bottle into your hand before the second word of his defense could even fully slip from his lips. It looked like a transaction, the repair work for the drink, and you graciously accepted it with a nod, tipping your hat respectfully towards her before turning back to him.

Yet, even with your attention directed back towards him, as he opened his mouth again, you quickly shut it for him.

“I mean where--”

“I’m well aware of what you meant.”

The men at the table had resumed a gentle hum of conversation once guns were removed from the situation, but your words were a gavel, slamming down hard and returning the stale and dusty silence to the saloon. The dark grey clouds just outside and the violent wind knocking into the worn door were enough to signal a storm was brewing, but for a second, he convinced himself it was already there.

Staring him dead in the eye. Unwavering.

“Buy the boys a drink, apologize, and get the hell out of town.”

It wasn’t a suggestion. It was an order, plain and simple.

He froze in his boots where he stood, your harsh tone alone enough to freeze his form in a way that neither the blustering chill of the stormy wind or the darkening sky ever could. He had met plenty of sheriffs, he had passed through hundreds of towns just like this one, yet as he held your stare, he felt tense, every muscle in his body screaming, caught directly between fight and flight.

But you moved as if your words were nothing to you, as if you hadn’t just shaken him to his core with your stare alone.

Lifting the bottle in a kind salute back towards the sweet bartender, you turned towards the table and offered another careful nod their way. “Have a nice night, boys.”

“You too, sheriff.”

Effortless and exhausted, you moved for the door, nudging it open with your hip as he found just enough strength to step up and follow you. It didn’t matter though, you were already through before he made it a foot away from the table, two words falling from your tired lips as your heavy boots carried you away.

“Fucking guild...”

—

tags: @rainy-day-gracie @seasonschange-butpeopledont @nominalnebula @randomnesss501 @hoodedbirdie @littlevodika @witchyavenger @mistermiraclee @tiffdawg @trust-dreamcatcher @videogamesandpoorlifechoices @lil-baby27 @blacksquadron-rougetwo @rogueonestan

#din djarin x female reader #din djarin x reader #the Mandalorian x reader #pedro pascal x reader #western au #sheriff meets bounty hunter #the Mandalorian #baby yoda

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themadlostgirl · 3 years

Text

When It’s Cold (3)

*It’s the mutual pining for me*

~~~

A few weeks had passed of Felix and I living together and trying to find our way back to Neverland. So far all our ideas and plans lead to nothing and I was starting to get disheartened. It felt like we were never going to get back to Neverland at this rate.

Life in the mansion was pretty nice though. We were a little worried during the first week, paranoid that someone was going to return and throw us out into the cold but no one even came near the house. I was starting to wonder if anyone besides us even knew it was here.

Over the course of our stay I learned how to do laundry and bought a bike so I could get to and from town quicker. Felix and I had discussed stealing a car but seeing as how neither of us knew how to drive and stealing a car would put us under investigation we didn’t. Felix on the other hand turned out to be quite adept at cooking. He found a recipe book in one of the drawers of the kitchen and seemed to enjoy figuring out how to make certain dishes. Aside from a few burned casseroles and a very unfortunate miscommunication involving spaghetti he was doing really well. Almost every evening he had some new dish ready for dinner. I started baking again so we always had warm brownies or chocolate chip cookies in the house.

Life was good. When we weren’t looking into ways back to Neverland we were lounging around the house. We found a record player in one of the rooms and played it when it was too quiet. A few times I had caught Felix dancing around the kitchen while cooking dinner at which point he immediately stopped and pretended he wasn’t. It made him a whole lot less intimidating seeing that he was secretly a bit of a dork underneath the hard exterior.

I think that was the best part of being stuck here together. We were learning more about each other. Felix was really closed off from conversations at first but after a few days his tongue loosened up. I learned that he got the scar on his face as a result of an incident before he came to Neverland though he couldn’t remember what exactly. He preferred sweet over salty and loved chocolate covered pretzels. On Neverland he used to collect sand dollars until the other boys found his collection and smashed them all. It was nice learning these little things about him. It made me feel like we were closer.

When the idle days became too much to bear we turned to sparring to keep the boredom away. We turned the ballroom into a sparring arena so we wouldn’t lose our edge. So far we’ve only broken one vase!

One such day we were in the ballroom again fighting and I had finally got a leg up on Felix and pinned him to the ground. “Gotcha!” We were both breathing hard and I was sat right on top of him with my arms pinning his wrists against the floor. I froze as the position we were in rocketed into my mind. Felix took the moment of hesitation to break free from my hold and rolled us over so I was pinned under him. I could have argued that this position was even worse.

I swear I tried not to stare at his lips. I really did but one quick flicker down his face and I couldn’t stop looking no matter how many times I forced my eyes to look back up at his eyes.

He let me go when he saw I had completely checked out of the fight and left, leaving me reeling on the floor as to what just happened.

For as friendly as things between Felix and I got there was a problem running parallel to it. I had hoped that the last of my dirty thoughts and weird feelings for Felix would have gone away after that first day but it seemed to be having the opposite effect. The closer Felix and I got as friends the more I was pining after him and it was torture!

At some point I stopped trying to deny my body the release it craved when my mind created lewd fantasies of Felix. There was nothing wrong if it was all in my head. No one would have to know and our relationship as roommates, partners, and friends would be untarnished.

I had everything under control. That is until the night the electric went out.

There had been a huge snow storm and it knocked out power to the whole town. Huddled under a bunch of blankets and thick warm layers of clothes helped keep out any chill but it didn’t keep me warm enough. I had left the warmth of my room to start a fire in the fireplace and noticed that it was already lit. Felix was sitting in front of it with a blanket wrapped around him.

“Cold got to you too?” I asked as I sat down next to him.

“Didn’t realize how much I hated being cold until the heat turned off.” He sighed.

We sat in companionable silence for a while, listening to the fire crackle.

“Felix,” I finally said, “Do you think we’re ever gonna find a way out of here and back to Neverland? It’s been over a month and we haven’t made any headway.”

“I know.” Felix turned to look at me, “It gets a little harder everyday to keep up the flimsy hope that we’ll get back home.”

“I’m sorry I made come here.” I told him, “You would be back on Neverland without a worry in the world if I hadn’t asked you to come with me.”

“My decisions are my own. No use blaming yourself for them.” Felix ruffled my hair, the only form of affection he willingly showed.

“So why then?” I asked, “Why did you come to Storybrooke with me?”

“Why did you ask me to come?” He countered.

I took a deep breath. This same old impasse. He wouldn’t answer me unless I answered him first.

“I wanted to have someone I knew I could rely on.” I answered, “The boys that left on the ship with the adults couldn’t be relied on. They wanted families and lives away from Neverland. They wouldn’t help me get revenge for what those bastards did to Pan. But you were always loyal and I knew that you would help me if it meant avenging him.”

“You could have asked any of the other boys that chose to stay. They were also loyal. Why not ask one of them? Or was it that you had and I turned out to be the only one who said yes?” Felix said, drawing the blanket in closer around him.

“I didn’t ask anyone else. I asked you because I knew you were the only one I could trust. The only one I wanted to come with me.”

This caught Felix’s attention. He opened and closed his mouth as if searching for something to say but came up short.

“So now you have to answer my question.” I turned towards him fully, “Why did you come with me?”

His mouth snapped shut and he looked away from me. I feared he may leave without giving me an answer but he stayed seated. An internal war dueling inside his mind as he mulled over what to tell me.

Finally he exhaled and searched my eyes. There was something softer about the way he gazed at me that had me holding my breath. When he spoke it was barely a whisper and had me leaning closer to hear.

“I came with you because...because I…” He swallowed, “I came with you because I didn’t want to be on Neverland without you. We never hung out but I was never ignorant of you. You brought so much life to those around you and I...”

“Felix,” I exhaled. I reached to touch him but he pulled away just as I did. He started to stand up but I grabbed the blanket around him halting his actions.

Felix stared down at me, eyes wide and panicked. He looked like a rabbit caught in a trap.

“Please don’t go!” I blurted out. “You don’t have to run from me.”

“What makes you think I’m running?” He asked, his voice low.

“What else would you call this?” I stood up as well. “It’s just us here, Felix. No one else can hear or see what we do. You don’t need to act tough and stoic for the sake of your reputation. I’ve already seen you dance around the kitchen while cooking soup. I think the masks can come off now.”

“I’m not wearing a mask, little girl.” He spat.

“Keep telling yourself that.” I turned to leave. Why had I said anything? I completely ruined any and all progress we had been making up to this point. If I thought he might have been distant before he was sure to keep away from me now. Stupid feelings and hormones making me say things I shouldn’t be saying!

“Wait!” Felix caught me at the staircase. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with this anymore and it must have been evident in my eyes as he turned me around to look at him. “Just wait a moment.”

“Felix, I’m tired in more ways than one. Just let me go.” I tried to shrug his arms off me.

“Please,” The word bled from his lips. I don’t think I’ve ever heard Felix say please in my life. “Please just give me a moment.”

“A moment for what?”

“To think.”

“Think of what?” I demanded. “Whatever it is you want to say just say it.”

“I--I--” He stammered. “Damn it,” he hissed before slamming his lips to mine.

The sheer force of the kiss nearly knocked me backwards. The ferocity of which he kissed me was hungry and passionate. Like he was drowning and looking for air. The blanket around me dropped to the floor as I clung onto him to keep balanced. My lips moved against his with similar excitement. My heart was hammering so loud in my chest it was all I could hear.

When the need for air became too much we pulled back. Felix rested his head against mine. Eyes screwed shut. I was still trying to wrap my mind around what had just happened when he cursed under his breath and shot past me on the stairs. The sound of a door slamming shut broke me out of my haze.

Felix kissed me.

Not a quick kiss either.

Felix kissed me like I had been dreaming about for the past several weeks. I tentatively touched my lips, savoring the memory of the way his mouth felt against mine. I quickly doused the fire in the living room and rushed up the stairs. I hovered outside of Felix’s door trying to find the courage to knock.

“I know you’re out there,” Felix’s muffled voice came from within startling me. “I suggest you save whatever you have to say and take it with you back to your own room.”

“Felix,” I sighed, “I think we need to talk about what happened on the stairs.”

“Forget about it.” He snapped, “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“I think you do. I think you know exactly what you were doing and that scares you more than if you were just reacting out of hormones.” I snapped back. “So how about you stop running and hiding from me and give me a straight answer for once!”

“I said to go away!”

“Fine!” I shouted, banging my fist against the door, “But you should know that I didn’t mind it at all you insufferable ass! I actually quite enjoyed it but, of course, you don’t care about that. Goodnight Felix.”

I stormed off back to my room and slammed the door shut behind me. I rolled into bed but sleep did not come easily. My feelings before were only more confused now after Felix had kissed me. How could he just kiss me after saying something unexpectedly sweet and then abandon me without a single word of explanation?

How is it even possible to like someone you hate so much?

~~~

Felix is a fucking idiot.

That’s it. That’s all it was. He was an idiot and he had proven that more than well enough tonight when he kissed you. Oh god above he actually broke and kissed you. He told you why he had been so willing to follow you away from Neverland and then he kissed you.

In the moment he couldn’t get the words he knew he owed you out. They were there scrambled in his brain but unable to get past his tongue. So he put his mouth to a better use.

He nearly moaned when he got a taste of you. Your breath was minty. Your lips so soft against his. He hadn’t meant to get so lost in it. But he finally had you in his arms and he didn’t want to let the sensation go.

Then you were kissing him back. Your hands tangled in his hair pulling him closer. Urging him on as he pressed your bodies together. He could have gone on forever kissing you if reality and common sense hadn’t come back to him in the moment you both were catching your breath.

He was supposed to be finding a way back to Neverland, not making out with you! But it felt so good to kiss you. You had been so perfect and warm in his arms. Thoughts of picking you up carrying you back to his room had entered his mind but were just as quickly dashed away. He couldn’t afford to be distracted. Not even by you.

You came pounding on his door yelling at him about his rude treatment towards you. Screaming about how you enjoyed the kiss as well. That almost had him running to unlock the door but the sound of your door slamming down the hall left him sat on the floor in frustration. How could he fix this? Was there anyway that he could? Would you even want anything to do with him after tonight?

Your words came back to him in that moment of contemplation. “It’s just us here, Felix. No one else can hear or see what we do.”

You were right. Of course you were right. No one else’s opinions mattered. There was no reputation to protect or people to disappoint here. He was not here for anyone to gossip about around a bonfire. It was just the two of you in this big mansion alone. There was no need to be embarrassed.

If only he had come to that realization before he shut you out for good.

There was one thing he could do to make this right. It could also backfire on him horribly but he’d rather try and fail then lose you forever because of one careless night. He would need electricity to do it but hopefully it would be back on in the morning. Restless but determined Felix crawled into bed. Plans of how to fix this mess so he could have your soft lips on his again dancing in his head.

---

(Previous) (Next)

#felix imagine #felix x reader #ouat felix #ouat #neverland #peter pan ouat #roommate au

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hyrule-kingdom-updates · 3 years

Text

Ok but I have been thinking about this “Astor takes Zelda when she’s young” AU all night like:

So Zelda’s mom dies and Astor gets his astrolabe from Asivus after he fucks with the guardians and [REDACTED] and Astor has his little Calamity agenda all within a shorter amount of time than the span of time in HKU. This is so that Zelda doesn’t have too much knowledge about her role as Hylia’s vessel yet so that when Astor takes her she’s like “dope” and doesn’t really know exactly how important she is. I mean as soon as your mom dies and your dad turns into a dick, the first magic dadstor to come into your radius going like “let’s go vibe somewhere else” I think anyone would accept that.

So the princess is whisked away and the kingdom goes into pure shit and chaos, and Rhoam is left no choice as to basic double, no, triple down on Sheikah tech and the divine beasts, all while sending out searches for the princess—which never come into fruition.

Meanwhile, Zelda grows up with the Yiga Clan as an assassin shes got a sickle and short hair because yeah!! Zavis is still a spy but instead of joining the Yiga Clan to be more useful to Zelda, he joined the Yiga Clan to find her and when he did, since his dad and Zelda are all basically on the same side he doesn’t have really any loyalty to the crown anymore

Now just in case, Astor pretty much lies to Zelda about her past as she grew up, just so that there isn’t a chance she gets dragged back into castle life or anything. “Oh yeah, you were just some little noble girl who’s dad was a dick, and I was friends with your mom before she died so I decided to take you in” and it lines you just enough with what few memories Zelda has of her childhood that she believes it. And ironically, with her loyalty to Astor and the Yiga Clan, she grows to despise royals and laughs at the stories of the missing princess like “ha, what a nerd. Hyrule really is doomed since she dipped from her destiny, what a loser.”

Does Siv team up with Astor earlier since he doesn’t have Zelda to give him hope that he can overcome the Calamity? Maybe. Idk.

So anyways, Zeldas going out doing Yiga things and she meets a knight with a pretty cool looking sword, and she’s like “Oooo imma steal that” and then she tries but she failed because this kid is REALLY skilled. He beats her, but doesn’t kill her when he realizes “You’re just a kid?” Then, they hear someone coming, like a captain or something, and he tosses her a few rupees like “get out of here and go home, the others won’t hesitate to kill a Yiga like you—girl or not”

Now Zelda goes home but she’s PISSED. Not only did she get her ass beat despite being the most badass Yiga she knows, the kid has the audacity to toss her RUPEES as if she was just some common poor thief. What an asshole! But also, she’s super ingrained by him because pretty much her whole life she’s believed the knights and those with the royals are a bunch of ruthless assholes who do nothing but blindly adhere to their commands and rules. So the fuck is with this kid??

She doesn’t tell anyone about this encounter (mostly because she doesn’t want to be yelled at, nor admitting the embarrassing detail of being beaten) but she does tell Zavis about it. And he’s like “pfft. He’s just a kid, btt it give him a few years and he’ll grow up like everyone other asshole out there, trust me”

Then later on, Zelda sneaks out looking for this kid again. And she does, and they kinda cross blades, but mostly she just complains to him about how annoying he is, and she tosses the rupees he gave him back like “I don’t need your pity money!” And they banter for a bit more and eventually she’s like “what’s your name, huh?” And the knight is like “....you don’t know who I am?”

“Oh let me guess, you’re one of the hundreds of people named Link, is that it?”

“Something like that.”

“Well Link, I’m Mallory, and I’m going to kill you now!”

Suddenly Link’s stomach grumbles and he sheathes his sword “Dinner break!”

“WHA—?? Keep fighting me you idiot!”

“Nah...I’m super hungry.”

“What?!?! What’s wrong with you??? I’ll kill you!”

“No you won’t.”

“I will!”

“You’re already breaking a sweat and I’ve been holding back this whole time. Plus, if you wanted to kill me why did you just give me back my rupees when I had my back turned instead of stabbing me? Either you like talking to me, or you suck at your job. Anyways, cucco nugget?”

So they’re kinda friends now.

So time passes and they’re still secret friends, and they like being friends because they “keep it real” as the kids say. Link never admits to her that he’s the hero, but vents about his knight life and his dad who never seems to be happy for him despite his accomplishments. And Zelda vents about her life in the Yiga Clan, and despite being the best, Astor never seems to want her involved in the more important missions and never tells her jackshit”

“Well I guess that’s good for me. Would hate to have the Yiga’s best asset being used.”

“Hey this is serious!! I need to help in the destruction of the royal family with the Calamity!”

“Do you really believe that? That we’re all already doomed?”

“Well yeah. I mean, even if the hero’s around, the princess is dead, so you all don’t stand a chance. But don’t worry, when the Calamity comes I’ll give you a heads up and you can go chill in Faron or something”

Then, things be picking up with Astor and the gang, and he’s finally found an opportunity to kill the hero. And Zelda remembers hearing from Link that he sometimes hangs out with the Champions and the hero for protection, and she’s like, “can I come?” because she wants to be useful, but also to make sure Link doesn’t die or anything. Yet per usual, Astor’s like “No. Just stay here.”

Now Zelda gets super pissed and him and they have a fight, mostly circulating around the fact that Zelda’s been nothing but loyal to the Yiga Clan and yet she nevers gets to actually feel useful and it also put on the sidelines whenever anything actually impactful happens. “Hell, even ZAVIS does more than I do! What’s your problem?! Can’t you have confidence in my for once??”

And Astor in Astor fashion ends the argument super harshly like, “You won’t be ready for anything, ever. You’re still incredibly naive and foolish, so if you want to help, then you can help everyone by staying here, and safe, and away from everyone. THAT is the only thing of use you can do, so do it.” And then they go off to kill the hero and Zelda runs off to her room al frusterated and shit.

But you know, you often meet your destiny on the road you take to avoid it. And this Astor’s little plan to keep Zelda away from Calamity related business so that she can never discover her powers or who she is...is gonna backfire, splendidly.

So Zelda sneaks out anyway, with the idea in her head that if she kills the hero before Astor even gets there he’ll have no CHOICE but to recognize how competent and useful she is and he’ll eat his words!

But then she gets there, and she sees the Champions, and Link, and she goes to confront Link with sickle in hand like, “I don’t need you! Just tell me where the hero is, and I’ll spare the rest of you!” And the Champions are like “wtf” and Link is like, “Just leave. You don’t know what you’re doing.”

“I know exactly what I’m doing! Just tell me where the hero is and no one else has to get hurt.”

And Daruk’s like. “Uhh...but he is the hero?” And everyone glares at Daruk, and Zelda goes into shock, like w h a t. Aw shit..so that fancy sword was the master sword...and he’s so good at fighting because he’s the bloody hERO FUCK, IT’S SO OBVIOUS NOW FUCK.

And I feel like as Zelda is contemplating her life choices in the moment. Revali would attack first because he’s like that. So he shoots her in the shoulder, or something, and she releases Link, and then something something her mask falls of and Urbosa recognizes her because of course she does. And Urbosa’s like “Zelda?!??!?” And Zelda’s like, “Who the fuck are you? Who’s Zelda? I’m Mallory.”

And by that point, Astor is there and he’s like “wtf is going on here.” And he sees Zelda, and he’s like “Mallory get over here right now.” And she hesitates for a moment because she’s right between him and Link.

“Move aside, now. Quickly. We’ll discuss your insolence when we get back home.”

And she’s like “...No.”

“Excuse me?”

“T-There’s no need for this. The princess is dead, right? S-So what’s even the point?”

“We have to ensure victory for Lord Ganon. We’re just making sure there’s no chance of anything happening. There’s no need to defend them, they’re all doomed, they’re all the same. If the hero doesn’t die by my hand, he’ll die by the Calamity’s. So move.”

“You don’t know that!”

And Astor raises and eyebrow because this is basically the first time Zelda has questioned this, ever. “What did you say?”

“I...I said you don’t know everything! You could be wrong!”

And he gives a sad smile and shakes his head. “I know more than you know.”

“I’ll tell you when we’re done here, promise.” And then he does his little malice teleport thing and he’s about to kill Link with a big ol’ malice attack, and Zelda does that reaching out thing like “No!”

And the BOOM. Her powers awaken, and EVERYONES like “oh shIT.” And Link’s the first one to be like, “You’re the princess???” And Astor’s like “hmmmmmmmm....fuck.” And Urbosa’s like, “Ok, I’m gonna stab Astor now.” and then she does! good for her.

And then Zelda is freaking out like what the fuck just happened who huh where what huh and then theres conflict because she doesn’t want Link to die but also his team just sorta stabbed her father figure and then its chaos or something and uhhhhhhhhh yeah that’s all I got I have no idea how this would end.

I feel Zelda wouldn’t go back to the Yiga Hideout after that, in fact I think she might run off with Siv because he’s like “hey, hey, hey. maybe gimme some of that light juice and get the calamity out of my head?” And of course Zavis would go whereever Zelda went (maybe?) She definitly wouldn’t go with the Champions yet, but they’re out looking for her. And also Astor would be looking for her with the Yiga Clan but mostly he’s like “fuck my life.” because literally everything he had been working towards and planning for over a decade has been ruined in like, an hour.

#hku au #hku spoilers

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misterewrites · 3 years

Text

Intro Casey 101 (Mirror’s Edge)

Hello everyone, E hoping you are all doing good! Here it is! The next chapter of the side project that's now my second major one. Because I have a problem and cannot be stopped! Haha stay safe, wash your hands, wear your masks, keep yourself, your loved ones and each other safe, get the vaccine if you can and remember to take care of yourselves.

Feel free to share this with your friends, leave me comments, feedback, reblogs. every bit makes me happy and helps! Have a great week and stay safe! E is out!

If you want an easier time to read it or to read it from the beginning you can follow the link below. Tumblr hates links and will probably shadow block my tags but you know what? Tumblr hates me in general so oh well

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/78163523

Summary: Casey is the head of the local Neighborhood Watch (and by head, he means only employee) Whenever not helping his best friend take down corrupted, evil jerkbutts, he spends his time running, maintaining and helping the magical/supernatural residents of Willow's Brook. Life is never static but Casey sometimes wishes it was a little less hectic. Just because he can handle it doesn't mean he wants to.

-----

Willow Rook was a peaceful neighborhood suburb located on the outskirts of Newton Haven, just within the city’s boundaries. Rows of mismatched houses and apartments spread out across the maddening maze that was suburbia. Fernspeaker Drift park was nestled in the heart of the neighborhood, its magical and mundane flora bringing a peaceful harmonic nature to the urban sprawl of man. The towering skyscrapers of downtown could be seen far into the distance, a reminder to the residents the city was never too far away.

The sounds of children screaming and shouting is what awoke Casey. He let out an unhappy groan as he rose from the hard wooden desk he accidentally fell asleep on. He rubbed his aching jaw, trying to loosen it from the rough night he had.

“Fuck” He yawned groggily “I really need to have a pillow here or something.”

He ran his hand through his normally wavy dark brown hair as his sea green eyes glanced about his “office”.

Office was much too generous a word for what he worked out of: It was tiny bungalow with barely enough room for a desk and chair, a case file drawer and the tv that sat ontop of it. Casey mentally prepared himself as he pulled open the curtains and allowed natural light to hit his face.

“Ugggggggh” Casey shielded his eyes from the harsh gleam of the morning “Why must the sun punish me?”

Casey stretched the crick in his neck while keeping an eye on the outside world: The neighborhood was particularly lively today with people out and about. The elderly elf Mr. Thistlebush was complaining about something or another to his dwarfish neighbor Mrs. Boulderfist who politely nodded and humored the old elf. Evan Starsunder, a muscular orc with dark green skin, tipped his mail cap tiredly to everyone he passed as he made his way into his cozy abode for a well earned rest. The newly married halfing (similiar but legally distinct from hobbits) couple Mr. and Mrs. Tealeaf took a stroll across the grassy field where Casey’s office stood, hand in hand and very much the picturesque ideal of young love.

Casey opened the window to let everyone know he was open for business.

“Good morning Mister Remington!” Mr. Tealeaf waved with a smile.

“How are you doing this morning?” Mrs. Tealeaf asked, half curious and half cheerfully.

“Great!” Casey lied, trying to stifle a yawn “Just great. Keeping on eye on the neighborhood, same as usual.”

“Keep up the good work!”

“We appreciate everything you do for all of us!”

“You’re welcome!” he gave a halfhearted wave after the retreating couple.

He sighed, mindlessly fiddling with the engagement ring on his finger.

“I should take it off” Casey spoke to no one in particular “She probably isn’t wearing hers anymore. I shouldn’t give people the wrong idea. I should just take it off and that’ll be it. That’ll be it. Yep. One slip and….yeah.”

His voice trailed off as he was unable to finish the thought.

“CASE!” A voice shouted.

Casey leaned out and squinted, trying to see through the glare of the sunlight to find the person who demanded his attention.

“CASE!” The voice called out again, the blurry far off figure slowly shifting into a more recognizable shape.

Casey rolled his eyes “What is it Kay? I’m working!”

Kasey Remington or, as most people called her, Kay was Casey’s twin sister. Nearly identical face with the same wavy dark brown hair and sea green eyes except Kay had gotten their mother’s button nose out of the deal. Growing up, the twins often questioned why their parents had named them Casey with a C and Kasey with the K but the only response they ever gave was it was funny.

Well not to the twins but they were used to it by now.

Kasey, in her mommy cardigan and white blouse, flagged down her brother to come outside.

“Yeah I’m good up here.” Casey smiled from his slightly elevated position.

“You’re tall for like 5 minutes and you’re already being unbearable about it.” Kasey huffed, shooting her twin a stink eye.

Casey chuckled “Mad with power. Classic story troupes.”

“Cliche you mean.” Kasey laughed “Sorry to bother you but….did you sleep in your office again?”

Casey rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as he realized he was still wearing his purple tank top and black basketball shorts from the other day.

“Umm well you see….”

“Is your office still a mess?”

Casey glanced at the half crumpled burger wrappers and scattered papers that littered every inch of desk.

“Pfft, no.”

“That’s a yes” Kasey replied with a knowing smirk “Case….”

Casey fiercely pointed at his twin “Don’t.”

“Case, you can’t keep…”

“Yes I can. Watch me.”

Kasey rolled her eyes “I have better things to do.”

Casey scrunched up his face with false hurt “Better than hanging out with your brother? Alright I see how it is. See if I get you anything for Christmas.”

“No! Not my possible Christmas presents!” Kasey fell to her knees dramatically “You monster! How could you do to this to me?”

“Like this.” Casey spoke with a grin, closing the window without another word.

And made his way out of the building a moment later. He offered a hand to his sister and the twins burst out with laughter as Casey helped Kasey to her feet.

“So what’s up Kay?” Casey asked with genuine interest “Where’s Chester?”

Kasey scratched her chin thoughtfully “He’s...got...a….little league game today.”

“Wooooow took you a full five seconds to remember what your kid’s up today.” Casey snickered “Finally stop signing him up for everything?”

“Ha flipping ha.” Kasey shook her head mockingly “It’s not my fault he wants to do any and everything. Besides it’s not the worst thing in the world to enable my son’s interests. I just wish he slowed down a bit.”

“True. Did you thank him for the house he made for me?”

“Yes and he said you’re welcome. Still got it?”

Casey scoffed as he pulled out his necklace: The simple shape of home clasped carefully onto his chain.

“As a cleric of the hearth nothing is more important than a family’s love.”

“Except” Kasey murmured softly “Maybe your fiancée?”

“Nope!” Casey threw his hands in the air and turned away from his sister “Not having this conversation. Byeeeee.”

“Case! Casey you’re acting like a child!”

“Would a child do this? Hey Seth!”

A gawky human teenager with dark black clothing and every skull accessory imaginable flinched uncomfortably at the sudden attention.

Casey nodded his head in confirmation “Yeah you! Curfew’s 2:30 A.M. The Hallow spell won’t work during the witching hour so I want you back here before 3. Got it?”

Seth gave a low mumble and wandered off as quickly as his legs could take him.

“Casey.” Kasey laced her voice with a firmness only a mother could muster.

“Whaaaaaat?” Casey whirled around irritated “Look I made my choice and she made hers and that’s it.”

Kasey raised an eyebrow “You two have been in love with each other since we were kids.”

“Don’t you…!”

“Case, why don’t you ask her again?”

Casey said nothing, opting to gesture to his office to answer his question. Written in bright white letters across the walls of the building were the words “Neighborhood Watch.”

Kasey rubbed her arm guiltily “Case…”

“You gonna take over?” Casey questioned, his voice soft but controlled “You gonna take over for mom? Cuz she retired and unless there’s someone running the watch, all of this...”

He motions to the families walking, playing, living their lives together in harmony. A magical community at peace.

“All this goes away. We’re going to have to move everyone into other magical neighborhoods and under their Neighborhood Watches. And that’s not fair to them.”

Kasey let out a sad sigh “It’s not fair to you.”

“I’m fine” Casey lied “I’m okay I promise. It’s for the best.”

Kasey shook her head “You can lie to yourself but you can’t lie to me. See you for dinner?”

Casey hugged his twin tightly, pouring as much love as he could into the gesture.

“Of course. I’ll bring fries.”

Kasey made a face, playfully pushing him away “Would you bring something else, please?”

“Fine, mashed potatoes.”

“Ugh. Bye Case.”

“Bye Kay!”

Kasey eyed the engagement ring for a moment before taking her leave.

Casey ran his hands through his hair, wondering how much worse today could get.

He turned to make his way back to his office when he spotted a familiar face nearby.

His heart began to thunder loudly in his ears, the phantom sensation of lips pressed against his own ran chills down his spine while his cheeks flushed a bright red. His legs felt weak and butterflies filled his stomach as he took in the sight of Jaime casually walking down the street.

Jaime looked as beautiful as ever: Her long dark red hair was tied into a single braid that hung over her shoulder and shimmered in the soft glow of the morning. Her light brown eyes gleamed with a thoughtfully gaze as she looked at her phone. She was wearing his dark purple hoodie with dark blue jeans and sneakers. Her glasses were cutely askew and Casey felt the overwhelming urge to run over and fix them for her.

The engagement ring on his finger felt impossibly heavy yet light all at once.

He should talk to her. That was okay, right? To talk to someone he’s in love with and desperately wanted to be with. Did she want to talk to him? They left on decent terms. Well maybe. Hopefully. God what if she was mad at him? Or worse, hated him? She could never hate him that was silly. But perhaps she wasn’t ready to speak to him.

He knew he wasn’t ready.

Casey turned to Jaime’s direction then pulled away. He pivoted on his feet to face her again before glancing downwards towards the grass. His hands fidgeted uneasily as a shout threatened to spill out of his mouth.

Casey returned quickly to his office and shut close the window. Resisting the urge to stare at Jaime, he opted instead to reach for a crumpled piece of paper. He smoothed it out and began mindlessly scrawling upon its surface, drawing nothing in particular.

It was comical how automatic Casey’s responses became while he worked in this building: Upon hearing the knock at his door, he rose to his feet and opened it without a second thought.

Casey’s heart leapt to his throat at the sight of Jaime standing at the base of the steps from the bungalow. She smiled shyly, pushing up her glasses further up on the bridge of nose before giving a friendly wave. Her other hand was tucked deeply in the hoodie’s pocket.

“Hey sweetie” Jaime paused, pursing her lips for a moment “Case. How are you Case? Doing good Case? Can I stop now?”

Casey let out a genuine laugh “Hey swe….Jaime. You can stop. I’m good. I’m good. Good.”

He caught sight of his engagement ring gleaming in the sunlight. He quickly shoved it inside his pocket.

“That’s good. That’s good.” Jaime nodded “I’m glad to hear that.”

Casey caught her wandering glance across the office and quickly shifted his weight to block the view.

“So how’s the new job?” He crossed his arms in an clumsy fashion “Everything okay at the Grimoire?”

Jaime dug at the grass with her shoe “It’s good. Chaotic as usual but hey what do you expect for a magical library, right?”

The two chuckled together and locked eyes for a moment. As one they broke off their gaze, their cheeks slowly turning a pinkish hue.

Casey recovered first “How’s your brother? We talk but ever since last month he hasn’t recruited me to topple any corrupt bosses lately. I’m getting bored.”

“You sure you bored?” Jaime rolled her eyes “There’s no way the Neighborhood Watch is getting that soft.” “Haha I wish.”

An awkward silence fell over the couple as the realization of what subject they landed on washed over them.

“Finn’s good. Busy but good.” Jaime spoke with a fragile softness in her voice “You know my bro, always trying to save the world.”

“Right...”

Casey couldn’t help but noticed Jaime’s body language: She tucked both of her hands into the pockets, her frame shrunk like she was mentally kicking herself as she gawkily fidgeted back and forth.

“Hey.”

Jaime glanced upwards towards Casey, her light brown eyes shining brightly in the sun’s glow.

Casey could feel his heart ache with love and longing as he spoke simply “Don’t worry about it beautiful.”

Jaime said nothing. Instead, she closed the distance between them, gently cupping his cheek in her hand.

“Take care of yourself sweetie. Please. For me?”

Casey could feel his ache worsen but he just nodded, murmuring softly “For you.”

Jaime’s smile was sad but lovely. She pulled away slowly, allowing her fingers to linger for a moment.

“Bye for now Casey.”

“Bye Jaime.”

She left without another word and Casey felt exhaustion rush into every fiber of his body. He closed the door reluctantly and took a seat. He stared unhappily at the drawing of Jaime he hadn’t realized he’d be sketching.

“Fucking hell.”

He slumped deeper into his chair, feeling much too drained to face the rest of the day.

-----

“Shit, shit, shit” Seth muttered to himself as he raced through the night. The normally inviting, homely suburb was cold and distant: The shadows moved in eerie unnatural ways and once or twice Seth could soft pattering of paws follow closely behind. The modest homes and apartments were silent, basked in the darkness as they towered over him in silence.

“Just a cat” He mumbled to himself, glancing at his phone and wincing at the 3:30 AM it showed in a white font.

Seth entered Willow Rook proper and paled at the lack of comfort he normally felt in the air. Casey had warned him the Hallow spell, a powerful ward of holy magic that protected the neighborhood and hid it away from the world, would not work between 3 and 4 AM. Seth assumed he was merely attempting to scare him to return early. It never occurred to him that Casey was telling the truth.

Seth fumed silently “It’s fine. I’m late, it’s fine nothing followed me here and it’s fine.”

A chill ran down his spine as something rustled nearby. He whirled around in time to see something lunge straight for his chest.

He was ashamed how quickly he flinched, closing his eyes shut while raise his hands in a poor attempt to defend himself. He made quick prayer to whatever deity who happened to be on duty at the moment.

Something thudded against his chest. It didn’t stay long, instead quickly making its way up his shirt and tucked itself comfortably on his shoulder. It wasn’t too heavy but it was big whatever it was. Seth was surprised how warm and fluffy it was and swore it was purring in his ear.

He cracked open his eyes and found himself staring at an orange tabby cat: it was a fat cat with stripes of white and orange running down its body. Its dark green eyes stared curiously at him. If he didn’t know better, he would’ve thought it was asking him a question.

“Hey buddy” Seth breathed a sigh of relief, scratching the cat’s chin “What are you doing out here? Scaring the shit out of me?”

The cat pawed at his face rather roughly and with enough force to actually make him turn his head.

Seth felt the blood drain as he saw something approach in the shifting shadows: A monstrous thing, thin and skeletal. Its skin was a dark shade, almost as black as the darkness it blended in with. It crawled forward slowly on all fours, thick talons digging up and cutting through the pavement with ease. A bloody wrap covered its eyes and two thick, elongated fangs protruded from its lower jaw. The rest of its face was smooth and featureless.

The words died in Seth’s throat. The best he could do was a pathetic croaking noise he was grateful no one could hear in the dead night.

The creature tilted its head as if listening for any sign of its prey.

Seth couldn’t move, the fear gripping him tightly in its thrall. His breathing hitched and he could feel his body shake beyond his control as the creature inched closer and closer.

The cat leapt off his shoulder, silently landing onto the grass and bolting into the night.

Seth’s stomach churned and twisted anxiously as the creature stared in his direction, a growling rumble escaping its mouth. It let loose a maddening shriek, one that shook Seth’s very bones. It stood on its hind legs and grew to an inhuman height. Its mouth lowered, stretching impossibly wide as it leapt forward.

Seth felt cold and empty as the sight of the monster filled his sight. The fight ebbed out of him and left only an overwhelming sense of dread and finality.

This is how it ended.

It was an odd sensation to feel at the end: the warmth and glow of the sun at his back. Perhaps some higher being was taking mercy on him in his last moments on this plane of existence.

Wait, no the warmth was getting brighter and hotter. An unbearably stuffy and blazing with an intensity of a summer day that grew each passing moment.

Seth groaned, wincing in pain as a sudden flash of light zoomed past with incredible speed. It burned brightly, dispelling the silhouetted shadows with a burning flame despite it being no bigger than a baseball.

The creature reared back and thrashed about, too caught off guard by the sudden glow to realize it was coming straight for it. The orb collided with the creature’s chest and sunk deeply into its chest. The creature howled and buckled in pain, bending and twisting at unnatural angles.

The light faded and the orb with it but Seth could see the fist sized hole it had burned through the chest of the creature.

The creature weakly swayed, seemingly weakened by whatever hit it.

“Not in my neighborhood you punkass bitch.”

Seth weakly turned to find Casey standing there, the fat orange tabby at his feet. The head of the Neighborhood Watch finally changed his clothes: He wore a purple jacket with a black shirt that read “Neighborhood Watch” in faded white lettering. His gray sweats were wrinkled and his feet were adorned with two different sneakers. Outstretched in his hand like he had taken a swing at something was a glowing metal baseball bat that pulsed with radiant power.

“Casey, I…” Seth mumbled out but Casey motioned with his head.

“Go home kid. This ain’t the minor leagues.”

Seth was ashamed to say he ran, frantically and as fast as his sore legs could take him. Whatever just attacked him was out of his weight class.

Luckily Casey was in a league of his own.

The creature clicked its tongue unhappily as it moved uneasily on its hind legs. It bent and twisted its neck in a way that would’ve broken it if the creature had been human.

Casey rolled his eyes as he gripped the bat tightly in his hand “Drama queen much, aren’t you?

The creature said nothing. Instead it threw itself forward full force towards the cleric.

“Here we go.” Casey murmured tiredly as he drew his bat back.

The creature took a swipe at him but Casey already moved out of the way, dodging to the side and allowing the creature sail past him. It twisted its head around only to get a face full of metal: Casey’s swing caught the creature in the cheek and sent it reeling backwards.

The creature shrieked in pain as smoke curled off its face, the cheek swollen and charred an ashy black. It didn’t hesitate to attack once more: It stood up and tried to crush Casey under its full weight.

Casey just shoved the bat directly into the hole he made earlier.

The creature hissed and retreated away from the holy infused weapon. More smoke bellowed from the now enlarged hole.

Casey raised his bat threateningly “Go back to wherever the hell you came from or I will beat you out of existence you flipping abomination.”

If the creature understood the threat, it made no indication. Instead it doubled down on its poor choices.

It sat back on the balls of its feet, tensing its legs in preparation for a mighty leap.

Between helping the inhabitants of the neighborhood with their requests, talking to Jaime and frankly being awoken to a fucking demon attack at 3 am, Casey was just done with all yesterday and evidently today.

Casey’s hand glowed with a dazzling radiant light as he spokes the words of faith. Magic formed and condensed into a single ball of pure sun in his palm.

The creature sprinted forward, tearing up the grass underneath its feet while it desperately made one final dash towards the cleric.

Casey lobbed the ball high in the air and fell into a batter’s stance.

The orb hung in the air for a moment like a blazing sun then fell back to earth.

The creature leapt, talons aimed for Casey’s neck.

Casey let out a mighty swing. There was a loud crack as the bat made contact with the orb. The ball of light sped off and shoved itself down the creature’s throat. The bat follow through connected with the head of the creature and knocked it cleaned off.

The ball gleamed bright in the beast’s stomach before exploding outward like a supernova. The creature flaked away into blacken ash, head and all.

The gleam of light vanished and Casey found himself under the cover of night once more.

He wiped at his eyes tiredly as his phone beeped. He glanced at it to see it was now 4 in the morning.

There was a soft hum as the Hallow reactivated: the air shimmered with an unseen power and grew warm with comfort.

The ashes vanished without warning, the unholy remains cleansed by the sanctity of the neighborhood.

The cat drew closer to Casey, its eyes peering at him thoughtfully.

“Hey Julius” Casey greeted the cat politely “Long night?”

Orange Julius meowed in response.

“Thanks for keeping an eye on him. I knew he’d stay out late but hopefully he understands why we have a rather generous curfew.”

Orange Julius nodded.

“That’s been like what? The third demonic hell beast/ abomination this month. That’s a lot for a month.”

Orange Julius meowed in agreement.

Casey pursed his lips thoughtfully ��Hey, did you see Finn?”

The cat tilted his head quizzically.

“I mean all this time you. He. Well you aren’t around whenever he comes by” Casey scratched his neck sheepish “You are his dad’s cat. You sure Fernspeaker wouldn’t want you to be with him?”

The cat paused for a moment before shaking his head.

“It’s not because Jaime’s folks adopted him after…..well that happened, is it?”

The cat pawed the grass below him.

“Right.” Casey nodded in understanding “Neighborhood’s your responsibility. I get that.”

Orange Julius meowed then vanished into the darkness.

Casey glanced at the statue of Fernspeaker that stood tall in the center of park. It had been erected the same time the park was named after him, both shortly after his and his wife’s death 22 years ago.

Fernspeaker Drift, Finnrick’s biological father, was once a powerful druid, deeply in tune with nature and a firm believer in helping others. This neighborhood was his passion project. The Neighborhood Watch was formed after his passing.

The Neighborhood Watch was created because of his passing. Nobody wanted a repeat of what happened all those years ago.

Finnrick told him it was okay for Casey to not to take the job but it felt like such a disrespect to let this whole place dissolve and scatter its residents.

Casey sighed and wandered back to his office. Office hours were closed but the Neighborhood Watch’s job was never done.

#original work #my story #original story #mirror's edge

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votederpycausemufins · 3 years

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Guys, idk how to tell you this, but we’re nearing the end. I mean, i’m gonna write more smaller pieces and maybe another long one in the future, but this one specifically is ending soon

@petrichormeraki

Mumbo walked down a hallway behind Drista. It looked like something Scar would have made as it looked more like a decorated underground tunnel than anything else. Stones of different types lined the walls and some vines and grass were present here and there. He kept trying to ask questions to pass the time, but Drista always shushed him.

Since he couldn’t really have a discussion with her, he just looked at the walls around then that looked worn by time. Some ores were present in the walls, though they weren’t any Mumbo recognized. When he looked away from them, the redstoner could see what looked like the tunnel widening up ahead, likely to a room or sorts, though based on their surroundings, it could be more along the lines of a cavern.

He was right as when they stepped out of the tunnel, the ceiling was still made of rocks, but the room itself was filled with life. Trees of varieties he had never seen before littered the area. Leaves of blue purple and gold were scattered around and hanging on the trees. Flowers of every color. A small pond to the side, small lily pads covering a good portion of the surface. It was beautiful.

“Alright, a couple of the fam are headed over here to talk with you. Don’t go wandering around because this place is like a labyrinth and you don’t have the ability to get out yet.”

“You sound like you’re going to leave me here.”

“Cuz I am.” And with that Drista ran off down another tunnel that connected into the room. With nothing to do but wait, Mumbo wandered around the cavern, trying to not stray too far from where they had entered. He really decided to stay close when he saw what he thought was an armor stand wearing armor, slumped against a wall. When he got closer and noticed the skeleton within that was obviously not a reanimated monster, he made sure to run back and stay in place.

After he started to become a bit restless again, Mumbo was slightly glad to see people approaching him. All of them wore some sort of mask, which unsettled the redstoner a little bit, but he remembered how Drista and Dream had worn some of their own, so it must have been a Vault God thing. Come to think of it, Grian also showed off a Watcher mask once. Did these higher beings just wear masks?

“We do indeed. It hides the self and keeps us separated from those we… work with.” A chill went up Mumbo as he realized that they had just read his mind. “Yes, another reason for the mask, though that enchantment could be placed on anything.”

“Should I just ask questions in my mind then?” Mumbo asked, now trying to keep his mind empty.

“Nah, just Song being cryptic and stuff.” A new voice spoke from the Vault Gods and one wearing a mask that resembled a turtle slapped the back on the head of one wearing a mask decorated in music notes. “We can control it easy enough, some people just get used to various powers and tend to overuse them.”

Mumbo sighed in relief at the casual tone from turtle mask. He had no clue what to expect from whoever he would meet and assumed they would be very strict and cold people. “I see. Well, speaking of powers…” He trailed off, not sure how exactly to ask.

“Drista’s kept me updated.” Another new voice spoke. They gave a small wave when Mumbo tried to figure out who was speaking. He had to shift a little to see them properly, but taking a step to the side, the redstoner would see their mask which seemed to be a generic green alien. “You don’t want to be a Vault God, but you used your powers out of necessity.”

“I shouldn’t have any to begin with!” Mumbo argued. “I said no the last time Drista showed up and they went away. It wasn’t until I found Dream that anything happened again.”

It was quiet after he shouted, long enough that Mumbo was beginning to worry he shouldn’t have said anything.

“That does change things.” Someone in an earth mask stepped forward. “Due to Dreamon’s work with the abandoned Watcher he obtained.”

“His name is Grian.”

“Yes, that one. He was able to shield his world from the sight and hearing of both us and the Watchers. His abundance of power is likely what pulled yours out again, not true willingness.”

“Are you saying you can do something about it? I don’t want to be one of you. Grian’s a Watcher and he’s told me many times that your magics don’t mix. I lo- We’re… really close to each other. I don’t know what I would do if us being around each other caused problems.”

Again, there was silence from the Vault Gods. This time Mumbo wondered if, being able to read minds, they were communicating telepathically. “I suppose there is something that could be done.” One of them finally spoke up and Mumbo sighed in relief. “Masks are usually used as a limiter, that is due to enchantments, but others could be placed on it so it has the opposite effect.”

“That being?” Mumbo asked.

“It can be so that only when used will you be able to access your self as a Vault God. That being said, to do that, more than just powers would need to be sealed within the mask.”

“I would be able to stay around Grian though?” Mumbo asked, not caring about any side effects if it would get him what he was after.

One in a mask that seemed to house an entire galaxy spoke up next. “Yep, pretty much any Watcher if you really wanted to. I mean, doubt you’ll be around many, but hey, if you help out when we have to deal with… or I guess work with other Watchers, it would help.”

“Then I’ll do it.”

“Ey Big Geeeeee!” Tommy burst into the room, followed by Grumbot who had led him there. “Tubbo went with Sparklez to go see some of his family. Meaning time for you and I to get back into things. What are you thinking? New normal war to teach people things? Invitations to the upside down? Take people on base tours and blow their minds? Or maybe we go with the tried and true chicken bombings?”

Grian just rolled over in bed. “Noooo. I wanna go but everything’s catching up to meeee. I’m a messssss.”

“Dad is feeling sick from bad magic that was left over in your world.”

Tommy sat down and slumped. “Great, another thing Dream messed up. Can’t you just do some shit to get rid of it and be better already? The longer we wait, the less fun it might be.”

Grian gave a small hum as a signal that he heard Tommy. “Yeah. Left it on a table. Mask I was wearing when you stabbed me.” He pointed in a general direction and Tommy left to grab it. While he waited, Grian curled up more, wrapping his wings around himself. He was glad that the feathers helped muffle the sound around him which was starting to give him a headache. Stupid living base that you could hear everywhere.

When Tommy returned, he tugged gently on one of Grian’s wings. Because of the avian’s current state, he panicked and hit Tommy away with the wing. The blond was pushed back, glad his armor negated whatever damage that would have caused. “Sorry for startling you. I found it.”

Grian took the white mask from Tommy and put it on, glad that it started to block out whatever was making him feel sick. “Oh, that’s much better. So, what were your ideas again?”

Grian, Tommy and the bots were enjoying themselves as they returned to Mumbo’s base. Jrumbot was admiring the diamonds he had scammed someone out of while Grumbot put away the last of the discs he had been playing around, making sure he couldn’t be seen while they played, confusing whoever heard them. Tommy had emptied a shulker box of eggs onto the smp island and Grian had placed signs all over the place with cryptic messages.

“Oh man. We need to get Mumbo and get him to drag some people into Hermit Challenges.” Grian said through his laughter.

“I dunno. Me and him aren’t really on the best terms right now.”

“I know, but that’s exactly why you should do it. It’ll give you the chance to clear the air and ask why he was so upset.”

“Daddy yelled at us too.” Jrumbot looked up briefly from his diamonds. “Auntie Stress took us to see him but he got upset and wanted us to leave.”

“I wasn’t able to get a good look, but he had seemed scared. People tend to have different reactions when they are scared. Some get angry, others panic, even more just hide it.”

Grian picked Grumbot up in one arm and nuzzled him. “And we’ve all been through a lot so we know that. Mumbo hasn’t been through nearly as much. It would be better if it never happened, but the fact that it took so long is a good sign.”

“I guess.” Tommy responded, but he still seemed upset.

Just before they reached Mumbo’s base again, there was a burst of energy that came from it and Grian narrowed his eyes behind his mask. “They were told to stay in your world.” Then before Tommy could ask what Grian meant, the Watcher set the bots down and shot up into the sky so fast he left some feathers behind.

He scanned the base until he spotted a figure and dove towards it, landing nearby. “You shouldn’t be here. This is Watcher claimed. Get out before I make you!” He almost growled at them. He was prepared to shove them through a rift to send them to smp island and then throw them through the portal when the figure turned.

They wore a familiar suit, except for the fact that it was stained a bright red color. They wore a metal mask with piercing red eyes, and most importantly, a mustache. “Grian.”

Grian’s eyes widened. “M-Mumbo…” The Watcher felt himself start to cry. This couldn’t be happening. Mumbo had said no. Why would he change his mind? And he had protected Mumbo so this could never happen? So why had it? “Mumbo… please… why? Why would you-”

He didn’t get to continue as Mumbo pulled the mask off his face and discarded it by letting it drop to the ground. He followed it, collapsing to the floor and Grian rushed to him. Before he could do anything though, he noticed the lack of any foreign energy in the air. “Oh Mumbo… I’m sorry I thought you said yes.”

#hermit!tommy au #hermit!tommy #tommyinnit #grian #grian xelqua #watcher!grian #avian!grian #mumbo jumbo #vault god!mumbo #grumbot #jrumbot #grumbo #drista #vault gods (vault hunters)

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o-wise-corvid · 3 years

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Oooookay guys! Here’s the prologue to my little fic idea. It’s um... it’s gonna be depressing okay so if you can’t handle some gut wrenching emotionals, leave this for another day. I really hope y’all like it and I’m gonna try to get at least one update in a week. Anyhoo. Enjoy.

People who were wanting more: @captainrexisboo @clonetrooperrights @koskareevesismyqueen @gospelofme @jgvfhl @ct-27-fives @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life

TAGS: PG-13 tops/mention of deaths/battle trauma/PTSD/ nightmares/ self-loathing thoughts/ um... If y’all see something else I need to tag, holler. Oh and if ya wanna reblog, go right ahead.

Prologue- Captain Cody

A varactyl death scream. The echoing sounds of blaster fire. His own voice repeated over and over, bellowing orders, shrieking in pain. He watched the Jedi fall. Obi-Wan turned himself over in midair, determined to survive. The commander’s arm was still lifted in the kill order gesture, two fingers pointing at the target. His arm. “Blast him.” Words formed easily by his mouth while the inside of his head screamed, fighting his own bones and muscles.

Cody’s eyes snapped open and he cried out wordlessly, relieved to find himself in his bunk, shrouded in the dark, legs twisted up in sweat damp covers. He lay still, trying to bring his breathing under control.

“Captain?” The black protocol droid that had been assigned to his quarters snapped to life and turned hollow, yellow visual sensors toward him.

“It’s fine, Sixthree.” His voice sounded ragged in the hollow, stuffy echo of the room.

Cody sat up, swinging his legs over the side of his bunk with a groan. His hips and lower back protested, popping as he moved. He was getting old and feeling it. Standing, Cody shuffled to the refresher and braced himself on the little sink that stood directly opposite the door. The squared off, slightly warped mirror betrayed more than his body ever could.

His hair was silvered at the temples and around the back of his head, thinning up top. He’d been considering going totally bald for a while now. Just to be done with it. Wrinkles spread out from his eyes in webs, carving furrows from his nose and down the sides of his mouth, creasing his forehead. The scar framing his left eye was more like a crevice now, pulling his eyelid down a little. His body wasn’t as lithe and flexible as it had once been, though he’d like to see one of the fit new Shinies take on a spider droid up next to him.

“You look rough, Trooper.” And then he smiled dryly at himself, scratching the stubble on his chin and cheeks absently.

A sick ache left from the dream curdled in his guts and he splashed some lukewarm water on his face. The memories of the Order didn’t seem like they would ever ease. The hatred of what he’d done followed him like a shadow, literally everywhere he looked, the result of his contribution to the Galactic Empire slapped him across the face as if on purpose. The monster had risen from the seeds sown by what most people now called The Clone Wars and it was huge, dark and ugly.

Obi-Wan. Cody gave an audible hiss at the thought of his name. The Jedi had been his friend, had saved his life, and how had he been repaid? With a watery grave, a shot in the back from his own Troopers. Guilt, old and familiar made him tighten his grip on the sink, the flimsy plastisteel groaning under the force he exerted. There’d not been a man in he galaxy that Cody had respected more and a faint glimmer of hope that his actions now would’ve made The Negotiator... what, proud? Not hate him because of what he’d done, the way he did in many other nightmares that made the regular circuit of his fitful dreams.

Cody wasn’t sure. He walked around, issued order about keeping the destroyer he’d been charged with floating, and trained new recruits when he wasn’t looking fierce. Recruits?! Stupid little kids that thought they could ever match the ferocity and skill of Clones. His brothers. There were so few of them left anymore, all spread around, trying to imprint their abilities on people who were not bread to war and battle. It was such numb-skulled concept. The Empire wanted the effectiveness of Clones but didn’t want to keep making them.

“Captain Cody.”

That voice brought him to attention. It was Vader. A chill crept over his scalp and down his spine until it sank into his feet, turning them into blocks of ice. Cody crossed to the communication display that took up most of the living quarter’s space. Vader’s head and shoulders loomed, huge and eclipsing, angular mask staring at him indifferently. He snapped to attention, uncaring that he was only in the black bottoms that he wore under his armor. “Lord Vader.”

The head inclined slightly in acknowledgement. Just after the end of the Wars, Vader had caught him in this state before and when he didn’t address the fact that Cody was naked to the waist and obviously just getting out of bed, Cody realized that Vader either tolerated it, doubtful, or simply didn’t care. He had no idea who Vader was underneath the armor and cape, but his suspicions leant toward a former Jedi. Who in the Force that might’ve been, he had absolutely no clue. The man knew soldiers though and he didn’t antagonize those who did their job and did it well. One thing he knew though was that he didn’t want to get on Vader’s bad side. Cody had betrayed his Jedi against his will, but this man... this man was something else. If former Jedi he was, Vader had slain and hunted his brethren until the mention of them was all but forbidden. If he knew soldiers, then he’d been in command. And there were only a handful of Jedi who had actually led troops, none of whom Cody could stomach the thought of becoming the beast that was Darth Vader.

��Your presence is required in the training yard. I have a new assignment for you.”

“As you wish, my Lord.” Cody answered automatically, without inflection. It was the way a Clone still under the control of the chip would sound like and Cody was careful to hold himself in that tight pattern, not allowing the facade to slip for even a second. If they knew, if anyone so much as suspected...

But his life was cheap at this point and if he had to die, trying to keep an eye on the Empire was a good use of what little time he had left.

He dressed quickly after Vader ended the transmission. His armor was not dissimilar from that which he’d worn nearly all his life, except black was the main color rather than white. It did look nicer, the shiny plastoid gleaming darkly with his signature bright yellow-gold accents. He bore the rank of Captain now, which was more decorative than anything, but even after all these years, Cody felt most comfortable with the weight of his armor encapsulating him. The Imperial insignia across his chest soured that comfortable feeling though.

Vader was waiting for him in the training yard, a thrumming shadow with the breath of a sleeping giant, waiting to reach out and crush anything it decided deserved a slow, strangling death. He was well over six feet tall and made Cody feel like he was looking up into the mouth of some enraged, ravenous beast. But he snapped to, saluted and stood at attention with practiced and even graceful fluidity.

“Captain,” Vader greeted smoothly, stepping to the side. His long cape shifted to reveal a... little girl? Cody’s eyes flicked down at her, seeing the naked terror on her face and it was all he could do not to tilt his head to let her know he was looking at her.

“This child is a force wielder, Captain. She lacks the ability to become as powerful as myself or even as the Jedi who you once served beside, but her talents can be used for the Empire’s service. You will train her in hand to hand combat. Your service record reflects the type of master she will require to be of use to us.”

“Yes sir,” Cody chirped, hoping his voice didn’t betray his total shock at what was happening. “She will... stay with me?”

“She will stay wherever you deem fit. Do not coddle her, Captain.” The command dripped menace and Cody fought the urge to swallow nervously.

“Of course not, my Lord. She will learn or she will die.” The little girl flinched at the word, glancing between the two faceless men. Vader nodded pointedly and left, the cape billowing behind him like a storm, not sparing a further considering moment for the little girl.

“Follow me.” Cody made sure his voice carried an acidic growl loud enough for anyone within earshot to register.

The girl gave a start and then obeyed. Her eyes were huge and dark, dirty and tangled black curls spilling around her face. Her skin would’ve been dark, possibly the same shade as his, had she not been leeched with cold and fright, her hands balled into tight little fists that she kept pressed to her chest.

He led her to his quarters, unsure of where else he was even supposed to take her. No one so much as glanced at them as the odd duo passed through the monstrous ship and Cody wondered if it was out of fear or apathy. Once they were inside, Cody ordered the protocol droid to go find some clothes that would fit the girl and bring in some food for her. The chattery clanker hurried off to do his bidding and Cody locked the door behind it. Then, he turned to look at the little girl.

What was he supposed to do now? Training older teenagers and grown adults was one thing. But a kid? A kid who’d been ripped from her family and tossed on a Star Destroyer with an old Clone, no less. Where was she from? What had happened to her? What must be happening inside her head right now...

“What’s your name?”

She blinked up at him, fear and anger making her eyes over bright, not answering. Instead, she made a frightened little noise and stepped back from him, glancing around for somewhere to escape. She was so scared, so lost. The sight of her did something unspeakable to Cody’s heart and he fought the urge to just scoop her up and hold her. Kids shouldn’t be experiencing this. They should be at home, with family, with people who could provide for them and protect them. This was so wrong. So cruel.

“Hey, hey, no...” Cody hesitated and then slowly removed his helmet, remembering an incident with Waxer and Boil on Ryloth in what felt like another lifetime. The helmets were scary back then; he probably looked like some sort of predator to her. Sinking down on one knee slowly, he leveled his eyes with hers, hoping not to further terrify his new charge. “I’m Cody. I’m not gonna hurt you, little one. But if you’re gonna survive this, you’re gonna have to trust me.”

She stared at him, breathing hard. There was no way he could get her off the ship and back to safety; her home was probably a crater by now, wherever it was.

“I... come here.” He reached for the blanket crumpled on his bed and tugged it free. “I know it’s cold. You’ll get used to it. Especially once we get you some decent clothes.” He opened it up to her, inviting her to take it. She didn’t. The dark, wide eyes watched him, tears spilling over and down her cheeks. Cody didn’t expect to feel a lump form in his own throat but there it was.

And that was when the world of Trooper CC-2224 shifted.

Something clicked, almost audibly, inside Cody’s head and the running, yowling script of “How am I supposed to do this?” halted, erased itself and was replaced with one firm sentence: “I’m going to do this.” Because of course he was. There wasn’t another option. He might’ve betrayed the Jedi, he might be still serving the Empire despite having slowly but surely shrugged out from under the control of the chip in his brain, but he was not going to just allow this little girl to suffer if he could possibly help it. For all his failings, for all his regret and self-hatred, this little girl could be the one thing that he finally got right. She needed a family, a protector, a provider... well... she had one. If this was coddling, then he guessed he’d just have to make his peace with disobeying a direct order, come what may. There really wasn’t any other choice.

“It’s okay, precious. I’m not-“ His breath left him as the girl flung herself at him. He wondered for a split second if maybe his epiphany had somehow shown through on his face as the girl’s momentum sent him rocking backward a little. It didn’t really matter though. This was where he realized he wanted her, safe and wrapped up in his arms. The relief of being able to comfort her somehow bled the strength out of him like a wound and he sat down with a weary sigh.

Skinny arms clutched around his neck and the cries of a child who had seen and felt too much too soon tore the air the quiet room. They stabbed at his chest, sounding too much like the green varactyl as it had fallen. “Easy, easy,” Cody tried, eyes stinging. He let the little girl cling to him as hard as she wanted, rubbing her bony back soothingly. He wanted to say something, to find the magic word that would make the pain that was this small creature lessen. But there were none, he realized as he swiped angrily at his own wet cheeks.

“You’re gonna have to trust me, okay?” he repeated after a long minute, having wrestled his emotions down to where he thought he could keep them still. “You’re gonna be okay.” Whatever was going to happen with this little girl would not be easy but in no way was this something he’d miss. Toss her off on some underling? Step in to check on her once a week? Unthinkable.

She grew still and then stepped back a little bit, hands still on his shoulders. Swollen, red eyes. Streaked, grimy cheeks. A dress that was mostly patches and frayed edges. “Cody,” she tried, and managed a wobbling, watery smile.

He smiled sadly at her, wiping her tears away with his thumbs. “That’s right. You... you can either tell me your name or if you’d like, you can have a new one.” What made him do it, Cody wouldn’t be able to say for several years. But the ultimate reason was that this little creature reminded him so very much of his brothers. He’d never held someone, let them cry on him and felt their body heave with sorrow, that wasn’t one of his brothers.

“I can pick a name?” A curious, almost happy note crept into the girl’s voice, which was high and sweet.

“Sure. I picked mine.”

She frowned but it was more curiosity instead of something troubling. A grimy hand came up and dug the heel of her palm into her eyes, then she gave a loud sniffle. “Your parents didn’t give you one?”

“I didn’t have parents,” Cody said simply. “I had brothers though. Lots and lots of them.”

The girl’s face brightened but then fell. “My parents are gone, too.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Cody cupped her face in his hands, trying so hard to be gentle. “But you’ve got me. I’m gonna make sure you’re gonna be okay.”

Her eyes glistened but she didn’t start sobbing again. Instead, she reached up and traced the curve of Cody’s scar with one finger. If there had been some part of himself that Cody had been withholding from committing to keeping this girl alive, it was now officially and unconditionally surrendered. He expected her to say something about the scar, but instead she asked softly, “Could I have my Mama’s name?”

“Tell it to me.” He actually impressed himself with how steady his voice sounded because inside, everything felt like it was breaking and twisting, reshaping itself into something not unpleasant but not easily made.

“Gaia,” she said quietly.

“That’s lovely.” Cody smiled, a tear that he hadn’t watched closely enough slipping down his cheek. The little girl saw it and daintily brushed it away. “You sure about it?” he asked, clearing his throat to try to hold some part of himself together.

“... Yeah...”

He pulled her into another hug, which was warmer than the first. She curled into him like they’d known one another her whole life and Cody, now so exhausted that all he wanted to do was crawl into bed and never get up, leaned back against the wall with a tired grunt. “Okay, Gaia. Okay.”

#star wars #sunshine squad #commander cody #star wars fanfiction #the clone wars #temura morrison #gaia #darth vader #latent Mandalorian parenting syndrome

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shes-ghostface · 3 years

Note

May I request Ghostface with a fem S/O who get really excited to see him? Any time they can get together is good time in her eyes, even if it's during a trial. She just likes being near him and love to give him hugs. She'll seek him out in the killer's forest, even ignoring the fact that there are other killers who don't love and care fir her there and when she sees him she visibly lights up. She's like a puppy, but a human. She just has so much love for her spooky ghost man.

You had just woke from the pitch black darkness that surrounds you before a trial, it was cold, dark and trees surrounded you everywhere you looked. It was Evan’s realm, you headed towards a generator but before you could get on it, you seen Jake in the distance, rummaging through a chest so you approached asking if he had seen who the killer was yet. He replied “no, quiet as a mouse out here.” When he said this you got a thrill, the only time it was quiet for a while was when it was either Myers, Wraith, Amanda or your favourite, Ghostface. The latter made a chill run down your spine, could it be him? It had been a while since you had been in a trial with him, since you last felt his touch.

You walked towards the iron works in the middle of the map, headed for the gen inside there. As you got inside you heard the exposed noise, Claudette was one shot and you didn’t hear the Myers music. It had to be Ghostface, your whole body soared with joy at the thought of finally seeing him again. You couldn’t stop the eager smile tugging at your face. As you started on the gen you heard a scream. Claudette was left lying on the ground, what is he doing? Does he- before you could even finish the thought you heard another exposed noise and Jake went down. Again, he was left in the dying state.. you started to think something was up, he usually hooks them right away. Why isn’t he sacrificing them yet? Does he know you’re in the trial? Is he mad because you haven’t been to see him after trials for a few days? Whilst lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realise your gen was about to pop. The sparks were spitting everywhere and the pistons were basically popping out of there sockets, as it roared to life you heard the scream of Nea. She had also been downed, and left in the dying state..

You knew now that you had popped the gen Ghostface would know your whereabouts. This made you feel nervous, but the excitement of having him in front of you again overtook any other feeling you had. You headed towards where Claudette got downed as you knew she should be close to getting up from the dying state by now, if you started to heal her she would be up in a second. You left the building, walking towards Claudette. As you were approaching her body to heal her, you heard that familiar sound of leather getting closer to you. Before you could even react you were yanked over his shoulder, hearing his menacing laugh under that ghostly mask.

He was taking you towards the iron works building, you struggled just to annoy him. You knew this got under his skin, all you heard was a sigh and his grip tightened as he growled “keep going with this wiggling shit and I won’t play nice.” To which you smirked and eagerly replied “don’t threaten me with a good time.” He liked that, he loves when you toy back with him. Even when you know he could end your life within a split second if he wanted to.

You reached the building whilst still being held over his shoulder by his strong grasp, as he took you both inside he stopped at a table right next to the gen you completed. “Are you gonna behave?” He asks. “Do I ever misbehave?” You replied, to which he smirked under his mask. He placed you down onto the ground, eyes not leaving you as he leaned against the table, moving his knife gracefully through his fingers. “Why haven’t you been to see me lately?” He asks in a serious tone. “I would have came, you know I would have but because of the new girl Elodie, we’ve been trying to make her feel welcome by showing her around the survivor realm and introducing her to everyone and their perks for her future trials. I really just haven’t had the time, I’ve missed you. It’s been horrible not seeing you, I’m sorry.” You reply, looking up at him whilst fidgeting, nervous for his reaction. “So is she more important than me or something?” He asks like a child pouting. “What? No, she’s just a friend. You know I only have eyes for you Danny.” You reply with an angry tone. To which he laughs and moves closer to you making you back against the wall, “of course you do. Cos if you didn’t, you’d know about it.” He states, motioning to his knife gripping hand. “You know how I get when I don’t see you, you’re the only one who makes me want anything but bloodshed.” He says softly as he wraps an arm around your waist pulling you closer, making a hitch in your breathing. You loved when he did that, the feel of his leather against your skin and the smell of his cedarwood and clementine cologne mixed with blood and leather. It was hard to believe Danny had a soft side, you were the only one lucky enough to see it.

You were putty in his hands and he knew it, you wrapped your arms around him, burying your head into his chest inhaling his scent. He was smiling under his mask, knowing the effect he has on you. But feeling you against him and having you in his arms again after so long had a similar effect on him. You felt him loosen up and pull you into the tightest hug he’s ever gave you. “God, I’ve missed this. Don’t you ever leave me for that long again, you hear me? You’re my girl. No one else’s, you put me first.” He stated, pulling back, burying his stare into your eyes, lowering his gloved hands to either side of your waist. You felt a blush coming to your cheeks, “yes Danny, of course. I’ll never do that to you again. I promise, I’ll come see you after every trial from now on.” You reply, looking up at him with puppy-like eyes. Like a pet looking up to their master, to which he adores. “Good girl.” He seethes through his smirk, putting his gloved hand on the side of your face. Lightly tracing his thumb against your cheek, staring into your soul with those dark ghostlike eyes on his mask.

You were that hypnotised by him and his scent, you forgot about the other survivors. Claudette and Jake had already bled out and Nea wasn’t far off. You frown, “Why didn’t you hook them? You usually sacrifice them before you come find me.” You ask. He sighs, “I wanted more time with you, you know how the entity gets when you’re the last alive and I take too long. It isn’t very forgiving when I get back to the killer realm.” He says as he presses the cold forehead of ghost mask against yours. Your heart sinks as you hear this, “I understand, I’m sorry if I’ve caused you any punishments from the entity.” You state, eyes filling with tears at the thought of Danny getting hurt. “Hey, it’s nothing I can’t handle. You know I’m the toughest son of a bitch in here.” He says smirking, whilst curling his arms up to show off his muscles. “You’re such an idiot Danny.” You say through your laughs. “Your idiot.” He states, smirking. He puts his gloved hand under your chin making you look into his ghost mask, “it’s time to go, hatch is open.” He states. You look into the dark sockets of his mask, “I’ll see you again soon, I promise I’ll come find you straight after my next trial.” You whisper, as if not wanting the conversation to end. “Oh, you can count on seeing me soon. You know for a fact I’ll come find you. Whether you want me to or not.” He states through another one of his cocky grins. You blush, taken aback by his confidence once more. You hear him laugh under the mask as he leans down to you, lifting his mask up just enough to reveal his lips. Before you could say anything he presses his lips against yours, holding your face in his free gloved hand. Your whole body felt a jolt go through it, you loved when he did this. It had Danny written all over it, sweet but dominant. As he pulled away he lowered his mask to hide every part of his face once again, his gloved hand stroked your cheek one last time before he spoke, “see you soon, sweetness.” And with that he was gone, his night shroud concealed him before you could even say goodbye.

You walked to the hatch and looked around one last time, seeing Danny leaning from behind a tree. He was fidgeting for something as you watched, smiling at him. You couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss and how comforting it felt being in his arms again after so long. A big flash brought you out of your daydream, of course he took a photo of you. He does this every trial, says he hates to see you go but loves to watch you leave. You shook your head, laughing as you jumped into the hatch.

Danny turned away, chuckling to himself. He flicked through his camera to find the photo he just took of you. “There you are.” He smirks, staring for a moment, stroking the image of you with his thumb before getting up to get ready for his next trial. He couldn’t wait to see you again.

This is the first time I’ve written anything like this so please forgive me if it’s not as good as you wanted! I’ve never done something like this before but I hope you like it! And thank you for your ask, I appreciate you even wanting me to write for you in the first place! 🖤

#dead by daylight #danny johnson #ghostface #ghostface x reader

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bellamybellamyblake · 3 years

Text

Six Years (Part 3)

Pairing:

Past/Eventual Bellamy Blake x Fem!Kane!Reader, Platonic!Octavia Blake

Summary:

Octavia knew who she was now, but you couldn’t figure out what the hell you’d become.

Warning:

so much mf angst, themes of addiction and depression, self-destructive behavior and a tiny bit of comfort in there

Word Count:

2k (i got a little ~carried away~ lol)

A/N:

IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. i wasn’t happy with the og thing i had down so i literally just rewrote the whole thing in a few hours and it’s sm better than it would’ve been. me holding off posting this did wonders and i’m more confident in it too even tho i kinda think i suck at writing but also kinda don’t idk my self esteem varies wildly

Merry Christmas Eve Eve to those who celebrate ❤️

the gif (and all the other ones) are not mine and i take no credit for them

if you want to be tagged in any of my works, send me a message or an ask and i’ll add you :)

@shipshipshipau

The girl with aqua eyes - although now they were more of a spotted gray - had only seen one moment of weakness from you. It would be the last time Octavia had seen you, and you, her.

“We’re surviving!” She had started shouting, as if she believed that set in a lower tone, her words would be construed as lies. “The human race is surviving! That’s what matters!”

“He wouldn’t be okay with this, and you know it!” Your voice broke involuntarily as it rose to match hers. You shook your head as you tried to desperately stop the ache in your chest as you brought her - probably dead - brother up. Tears clung to your eyelashes, waiting for you to blink so they had permission to fall. Your throat had been closed for a while now, and the rest was merely a weak cry. “If this is the price that we have to pay...maybe we shouldn’t be.”

You’d never know if it was the crack in your demeanor or your choice of words, but either way, her eyes softened when you spoke.

“Look at me.” You did as told and she gripped the back of your neck in one hand, pulling your forehead so close it almost came into contact with hers.

The air changed as Octavia came alive under the monster she wore for armor. Her mask coming off allowed you to let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. You would begin to regret not smashing the helmet to bits while it was off and vulnerable.

“You have to stop listening to them,” She said. “It’ll tear you apart. It’s better they get to live to hate us than die slowly and love us-”

“They don’t deserve this either, O-”

“We bare it, so they don’t have to. You’re the one that told me that. You can’t back out on me, now. I can’t do this without you.”

For so long you were okay with her needing you to do the dirty work. Besides the first time - when you did it together - she’d give the sentence and you’d see it through. Every single time, it felt like it was killing you more than them, but that didn’t matter, did it? If you weren’t going to do it, who would?

It was the last thing Octavia had asked of you and you had no intention of letting her down.

Bellamy didn’t know what he would see when they finally dropped him down into the bunker, but it definitely wasn’t that. Surrounded by more death than he was prepared for, he couldn’t help himself to not move his gaze around the arena. The fences between him and the living reminded him of the cages the Mountain Men held him in. The walls were stained deep with crimson, leaving the dull concrete behind it unrecognizable. He looked to the blonde at his side, and they asked each other the same silent question:

What the hell happened down here?

His whiskey shaded orbs kept moving, albeit reluctantly. They stopped on Marcus Kane, who looked so much older than last time. His hair and beard were inches longer and grayer than the natural brown he used to have. He was so pale, it was unnerving - almost as if he was close to death. They connected eyes briefly and that’s when the younger saw the deadly weapon held to his neck by the hands of-

No.

Your back was facing him, but it didn’t matter how long it had been, he’d never miss you. The locks that adorned your head were longer too, almost to your waist. The natural shade was faded though, like you had aged twenty years instead of six. He watched your shoulders heave and your hands start to shake as Kane talked to you.

He couldn’t pull his eyes from the impure red that dyed your skin and clothes.

While you were distracted, he chose to act, protecting Marcus from his own flesh and blood. He didn’t miss the gears in your head turning as your gaze landed on him. He saw your eyes sink into a trance of recognition and a deep sort of longing overtook your senses. The melancholic need you had tried to numb for half a decade came back in full force and held no mercy.

You remembered how he always smelled of the forest after the sky wept. You remembered how sure but gentle his touch was on your skin. You remembered how his remarkably soft lips would feel when they pushed against yours as they begged for more at every turn. You remembered how it felt to be wrapped in his arms, listening to his heart thump as he assured you everything would be alright, even if he didn’t think it would be.

Was that gone forever, now, too?

Bellamy noticed something else, though; something he didn’t recognize. Something he’d never seen before.

Something that scared him.

It had been hours since and neither of you had bothered to find the other. Getting everyone out was a great distraction for him. Talking to his little sister, whose eyes seemed to hold the same thing yours did, was another. She had explained to him and Clarke that Wonkru had deemed her Bloodreina and you, Ripa. So, no, nothing as special as death from above or the red queen or the commander of death, but death, nonetheless.

People have done well not to forget that.

When Clarke told him you still hadn’t come out and no one had seen you, however, he didn’t have a choice anymore.

The halls were those of nightmares, spirits lurking around every corner and it was cold and empty. He knew the lights were kept low to save power but it felt almost purposeful, like they were meant to scare you. To tell you not to act out or some kind of monster would jump from the shadows and make you pay.

But he didn’t know if it was you or his sister.

A chill slithered up his spine.

If someone told him this wasn’t real, he’d do anything he could to believe them. He wished that he was seconds away from being shaken awake by Raven or Monty, and they would tell him it was just another nightmare. He wished he was still on the Ring, praying ignorantly to anyone that would listen that his family on earth were still okay.

Breaking him from his thoughts, a yellow lamplight caught his attention. At the end of the windowless corridor, it shone out of a slightly ajar door. Using every ounce of strength he possessed to not walk away, he pushed it open. It cried at the motion, diminishing any and all remnants of silence that swallowed the floor.

His eyes found you catching yourself from falling caused by a failed attempt at standing. A half empty bottle of whatever works in one hand, the other one holding you up against the bed frame. The high-pitched creak pulled your attention to the front of the room with a furrowed brow and he allowed himself to take in your appearance.

A wrinkled, cotton shirt sat on your chest and it was a different one than before; faded white and thin, yet cleaner than the other one which was colored with blood. Your hair was damp - the result of taking a shower - but lazily tied back in a half-assed effort to get it out of your face.

You stared at each other for a minute. A million things were hitting your slow-moving thoughts at once, too much for you to even try to comprehend. He finally took one step towards you, parting his lips to say something but no sound came out.�� He was stumped, hundreds of words flooded his mind but not a single one sounded good enough.

Nothing he could say would make what happened in the arena okay.

It was unbearably painful. There he was, finally right in front of you, and you had no idea what to talk about. No idea what to start with, end with, bring up, discuss, laugh about, cry about, scream about. Nothing was good enough to say to the man that kept you alive for such a long time, such a long time ago.

Too long ago.

You inevitably broke the silence, though your words came out cracked and in a slur. A defensive and humorless scoff left your lips, an effort to cover up the discomfort. Or it was because you were too drunk to shut yourself up. “You gonna say somethin’?”

“I don’t know what to say.”

You didn’t know why, but you hoped he’d sound different. It was childish and irrational, but you hoped that you could say you both changed too much and he would have nothing to hold against you.

Because no matter how far away it seemed, sometimes you could still remember what it felt like to be that innocent seventeen-year-old that hadn’t lived yet; what it felt like to be that girl who still couldn’t stand her father. To be that girl who sprained her ankle within ten minutes of being on earth for the first time. To be that girl who hadn’t made a friend aside from Clarke and Wells in her whole life. That girl who had just kissed a boy for the first time.

The girl who was loved and not lost yet.

“Well, that makes two of us.”

Where the hell did she go?

That made the room spin, and you had to blink a few times to make it stop, taking a seat on the thin mattress. You took a drink, making the liquid slosh from the base to the neck of the bottle and back again. When it settled, you rested your head between your shoulders as you heard him say your name. It bounced off the walls in the room, hitting each one again, and again, and again like it was a bullet waiting to find its target. You had wanted the word to fall from his lips for so long that you’d forgotten what it sounded like. You had forgotten what he sounded like, and you fucking hated yourself for it.

Then you realized he said, “Ripa,” and those four deadly little letters crushed your throat and stole the air from your lungs.

That name hadn’t felt right from the start, but it was what you had been simultaneously promoted to and reduced by. The only person who refused to call you that over the years, was your father. For two thousand days, he made sure to steer clear of it.

That’s not who you are and I know it, even if you don’t.

A sudden and hauntingly raw sob escaped, and you knew his eyes were on you in an instant.

“Don’t call me that,” You begged, meeting his gaze for the first time since he entered. Breath picking up, you were practically terror-stricken at the idea that all you were to him now was a murderer. You vigorously tried to shake the thought away, squeezing your eyes shut as everything that kept you numb seemed to vanish into thin air. “Y-You can’t-Not you too. Please, not you.”

Bellamy’s hand brushed your cheek and tears rained freely. You immediately leaned into the familiar and delicate warmth and you really fucking hoped this wasn’t your mind playing a trick on you.

“It’s okay, Y/N.” When he spoke this time, his words sounded choked too. His other hand cradled the back of your head as he pulled you into his chest and just...held you. “It’s okay.”

It was like you were standing at the edge of a building, teetering the edge before accidentally falling. Only, before you could plummet to your death, someone caught your hand, and it occurred to you that you really wanted them to pull you back up.

“Please don’t leave me again.”

Your voice was just so, so weak. Beaten down and broken.

“Never.” He said it with so much confidence and finality, you almost had to convince yourself it was real and not a dream. “I promise.”

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prince-toffee · 3 years

Text

Alleyways

Hordak x Shadow Weaver

Canon Divergence | Alt Universe

Season One | Episode 14: Alleyways

Beatrix scoffed and threw the brown ration bar and the rest of her food tray across the prison cell, she far preferred the grey ones. She gave a defeated sigh lowering her head down. She rubbed her fingers over the scratched part of her mask, in the spot where a chip of the Black Garnet used to reside. Her shoulders slouched down, all tension in her muscles left her as she gave up. She felt so powerless. So weak. Just a few days ago she was still one of the most powerful witches on the planet, every magic user feared her name.

Shadow Weaver.

Now, she sat in a prison cell, rank-less. She didn’t know if she should’ve felt honoured, or disgusted by the fact that the cell was specially attuned and adjusted for her specifically. Which meant it was probably designed and constructed, in secret, long before her treason. This place was full of secrets and surprises, usually unpleasant ones. Hec-Tor would’ve probably said it was an honour, he was an architect that truly thought of everything. And The Fright Zone was one of his most haunting creations.

Beatrix wasn’t disgusted, per say. She knew she didn’t have many fans, and plenty of enemies at every corner. This outcome was inevitable, she knew deep down she was getting too greedy for her own good. But the power felt too good to give up. What a fool she was. She saw it all clearly now. Where her addiction led her. Her very unsubtle disregard for orders, her greed peering through her emotionless, cold stature. She knew she was on thin ice with Hec-Tor, the control freak he was. He desired order and expected subordinance. He always disliked her - everybody back home knew she was a wildcard, deceptive, insidious. Looking out for only herself - she never really cared about the cause.

Perhaps she should’ve been more surprised that he didn’t do it earlier. She knew he wasn’t fond of her, and vice versa of course - she couldn’t stand his patriotic and prideful attitude. Acting as if being apart of The Horde was a gift from god. He was an old blind fool. Beatrix wouldn't have thought twice before leaving this place and selling her loyalty and inside information to the most welcoming bidder - The Alliance, or even maybe try her luck with The Empire of Talon Mountain. So any choices to choose from, now if only she could manage to escape her imprisonment.

Unfortunately, if she knew Hec-Tor, and she did, The Hordak had probably thought of every possibility of escape she would think of, and countered it. He was paranoid like that. The spherical pure white containment cell she was unceremoniously thrown into was made out of Glowmoon-Dwarfstone, the surface layer anyway. A magical element only found on one of the moons of Etheria, able to absorb darkness itself. Bad news for the Weaver of Shadows, she was powerless here. She despised feeling weak, vulnerable. She was meant to be the predator, not the prey.

She had no shadow. The stone absorbed it. She felt two dimensional. She didn’t know if that made sense, but she heard the stone had negative effects on the mind if in close proximity for too long. Speaking of which, she had no idea how long she had been locked up, she lost the track of time. No windows. So no sky. No clock. No space. The spherical cell was the size of a small closet. At least they were still feeding her, but the food in there was never anything to gloat about.

She placed her face into her hands, she was loosing it. She couldn’t break! But she was close. She didn’t want anyone to have the satisfaction of seeing her beg, and pled. She was strong, stronger than them. She was going to win in the end, she just had to wait it out, play the long ga-

“Inmate-667. Place your forehead on the wall behind you and position your hands behind your back. The containment unit door will open, and a commanding official will commence your questioning. And Weaver, you’re gonna like this one, hehe.”

Beatrix narrowed her eyes and growled at the announcement. She recognised the voice, Force-Commander Grizzlor. She never liked him. The feeling was seemingly mutual. She did as she was ordered. A groan reverberated through her throat, she knew exactly what this was, she could tell from Grizzlor’s smug voice. Catra. She was back to berate her. It seemed like her former ward’s ego had grown three times the size, rather than her heart. Beatrix dreaded these visits. Catra came over from time to time, to insult and demean the dark sorceress, rub her victory into Beatrix’s face. Insolent little brat! She got lucky! Beatrix was weak when she caught her off guard, too drained by the toll the Black Garnet’s power took on her. If only- if only she could take hold of the Garnet’s power! S- She didn’t need much, just a little, it would’ve cleared her mind, beat her heart faster. If she had just a little more she could’ve had taken out Catra, and her two stooges. Everything would have been all better if only she had a little more. Damn that girl! And her mother!

The cell opened up. A side panel gave out a hiss as it dislodged, pulled out and off to the side. Weaver felt the colder air pour in. The closest shadow cast onto her was too weak for her to do anything with, the upper layer of the walls draining it’s ethereal cosmic weight. Or perhaps she was the one who was too weak. Catra loomed over her. The teen thought she could intimidate her, not a chance.

“Well? Come on then, you spoiled brat! Got anything to say? Came here to gloat and mock me, you think you have won, but one wrong move with Hordak and he’ll throw you to the dogs, he’s-”

“Weaver.”

The sorceress silenced herself. The voice that called to her was cold and smooth, in other words not Catra’s. The single word was followed by a pair of footsteps, metal boots clanking against the stone’s surface. The sound of cybernetics hissing as his joins moved. He was close now. The cell entrance slide back into place closing the cell. They were alone now. Beatrix had to admit, even though she knew Hec-Tor for most of her life, seen him at his most vulnerable, even shared some intimate moments with him, but still even after all that - he was terrifying.

She turned her head around, and there he was. He looked different in the light, stranger. She almost never saw him outside of his ThroneHall. Always cloaked in darkness and smoke. She sometimes wondered if he bought smoke machines on purpose to scare any kids that would accidently wonder into the room. Hec-Tor certainly had a taste for the dramatic. Beatrix turned around and seated herself comfortably looking up at the Overlord, well, as comfortably as possible. There he was, in all his glory, out of shadows - a glorified toaster. The same Hec-Tor that used to write poetry for girls that would never go out with him. The same Hec-Tor that dyed his hair blue, because kids from the neighbourhood made fun of him being ginger. The same Hec-Tor that beat his own father within an inch of his life, and conquered half of the galaxy...

Same old, same old.

She swallowed down quietly, she couldn’t show him she was weak. The mask helped hide most emotions, most weaknesses, she had to control the rest of her body language. Beatrix lifted one leg over the other and intertwined her fingers together, giving off a relaxed posture.

“Lord Hordak. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

She looked over him - blood red eyes, and teeth, grey skin, military regulation hair cut, his two prostatic arms, which could crush boulders, his imperial purple cape, and the neon lit armour implants. She was actually curious as to what he was actually going to say. His eyes narrowed, anger was apparent, but an air of irritation was present too. He gave out a long tiresome sigh, as he moved his fingers to rub the bridge of his nasal cavity, even venturing as far as his eyes. She was in for it.

“Why? Why can’t you just follow orders? Beatrix Hallows, always struggling with adhering to reason and common sense.”

Shadow Weaver’s eyes widened she couldn’t believe what she was hearing, he actually had the audacity to school her, to talk down to her. This was almost worse than Catra, hearing her full name spoken out in a mocking tone, like lecturing a child, slapping them on the hand, this was humiliating. And from Hec-Tor too. When angered by her he’d usually give her the cold shoulder, take her off a mission, reassign command to someone else, like Catra. She thought he had given up on talking to her ages ago. But she wasn’t going to have it.

“Having fun? Look you’re not covering any new ground here. Catra already had multiple pitstops here to make me her new donkey. If you think you get to insult me like that, just remember your punk rear wouldn’t have made it back home if it weren’t there for me. You owe me. Several.”

It was true. Back on HordeWorld, back on the streets. They had nothing. Had to rummage through trash, and steal for food. Stomach empty all day. Times were tough. They had to rely on each other. One distracted the passer-by and the other pickpocketed, on a lucky day, thanks to Hec-Tor’s puppy eyes the stranger would hand them some pennies on top of that. But man, on days like these she wished she had never stood up to those bullies shoving little young Hec-Tor around, should have never allowed him to follow her. But how couldn’t she, he was so adorable.

“I am not here to appoint you my personal laughing stock. And I thought I told Catra talking to prisoners was forbidden. I’ll have a chat with her about the regulations... I am here to understand. Finally. I have been putting this off for far too long.”

This was curious, and unexpected. She would’ve lied if she said she wasn’t interested in what was about to exit that mouth. He had avoided her for years. Often said she was ‘not worth wasting words on’. The feeling was mutual. She heard that mouth declare rousing speeches, bone-chilling monologues, and the softest of kisses. Versatility was everything. He continued.

“We never saw eye to eye, never liked each other, you always went your own way. Chose to differ from others, always take the other path. You talk back to me, you waste resources on personal escapades, and often break protocol... But back there, at such a crucial point, disobeying my orders, for what? Just because of a child that did follow orders?”

Putting faith in that girl was going to be his undoing. Unless she was going to get to him first. Catra was always a nuisance, untrustworthy, going off on her own, not listening to what she was told. She had a rebellious spirit, that drove her away from Weaver’s lessons, she often managed to drag others away with her. She was too smart for her own good.

She’ll be biting down on Hec-Tor’s ankles soon enough. She supposed that an upside of being stuck in the cell was that he had to deal with Catra’s antics now. That was his mess to clean.

“How did she even get a drop on you? Was it the Garnet? I told you to tell me if the artefact displayed any negative effects-”

“Are you done? I know you didn’t come here to talk about my feelings. If you care to know your magic weapon is fine. And Catra. She’s nothing but a brat, that you’re letting walk all over you.”

She wasn’t having any of this, she had to speak up for herself. Call it a warning, that girl is not to be dismissed, she’s trouble - like her mother. But deep down she felt a hint of embarrassment herself, she was one of the most powerful sorceresses, years ago when she first drained the power of the Garnet she did it effortlessly. Even though Hec-Tor didn’t trust her, he handed her the responsibility, because he knew she was the only one who could hold its power. He knew she was mighty. But now, the Garnet rejects her, resists her, no longer bows down to her might. It hurt sometimes. But she could never show weakness.

The infamous Hordak stared down at her, judgementally, much like how he looked down at everybody. He looked off to the side at the thrown away tray, mashed potato and peas smeared on the floor, tray flipped over, and the brown rations crumbled on the floor.

“You’re not eating.”

What was that? She wondered to herself. Was that genuine worry? She noticed he stayed on the ration bars for a second too long, noting her preference perhaps. He seemingly had no idea where to go from there, so she helped him out, she asked.

“Why are you here Hec-Tor?”

This time using his real name rather than his title. More personal, it cut to the point. Plus he was always going to be Hec-Tor to her. That puppy eyed scaredy-bat, the one always picked on, by bullies twice his weight, the nerd allergic to flowers, and the same geek that used to write poems for her. She dismissed them of course, just a bunce of nonsense if you’d ask her. The change never really quite settled in, even when the Council made the public announcement of picking the new Hordak. Even when Hec-Tor’s face came on every screen on the planet. Even when the death of He-Ro shocked the nation. Nothing changed.

Well, maybe not until that day at Vix’s Diner. It was the strangest circumstance. He was the one who called her over. She guessed it was just a nostalgic meet up, like in the old days. 'The Hordak' was present, so they ate for free. Their conversation would be constantly interrupted by randos bowing and giving respects to him. He dismissed them.

But there was something different about the man that sat in front of her, he was colder, more stiff. Beatrix treated herself to the unlimited free breakfast meals, best she’d eaten in years. She half listened to his ramblings, something about the war with the Light and the Ones Who Won’t Be Named escalating, the Council was abolishing anti-terraforming laws, and Horde warships were launching on the offensive against the enemy. The wannabe poet gone, all that was left of the boy was a patriot, and a soldier. Well, what do you do? That’s what the government spoon feeds people.

But the strangest thing was. He asked her to be his 'Weaver' - his second in command. An honour placed apon only those who are seen as worthy, or chosen by the Council. But this wasn’t an ask of desperation or of fear. This was an order. Firm, and powerful. That day in the diner, if Beatrix would’ve refused him, she didn’t know if she would’ve walked out of there with her head on.

The Hordak is no mere man you can refuse after all.

He is the 'Beast of HordeWorld'.

And so, they set off. Boarded the warship: Annihilation, and rocketed into the stars. And the newly appointed Shadow Weaver pondered, that it was quite curious that HordeWorld was completely decimated only few days after they left. Curious indeed. Blah. Blah. Blah. Couple of thousand years, some food shortages and dead bodies later: Etheria. Crash landing in the back fields of King Niro’s Kingdom of Scorpion Hill. And it was through Weaver’s highly skilled dark magic on display, that the kingdoms bowed down to them, Mysticore even building a statue in her honour. They looked up to her, marvelled at her magical abilities. Her Horde magic was far more advanced than what the wizards held in their possession. She taught, and trained them. But good things never last. They turned on her.

“Like I said, Beatrix. I am here to understand.”

Now it was his time to use her name. She was still curious yet cautious. Whatever side-tracks Hec-Tor from the main mission, can’t be good. All this was strangely personal. Was the Beast in fact capable of concern and closeness? She let him continue.

“We’ve known each other longer than most beings live. But in my quest into the unknown, I never even dared to explore what was nearest me. Tell me, why break, why snap at me at a point of victory? And why, why the girl? It’s that Magicat that sets you off at every moment. Why? Why do you hate the girl?”

“Will, you free me?”

“...No. We both know I won’t, I can’t. It is against the protocols, and I gave you too many passes, vouched for you too many times, I overlooked your actions for too long. And that’s why I am here.”

Well, that wasn’t going to work. No freedom, no deal, no talking. She was surprised by the fact that this entire situation was simply a genuine attempt at a heart to heart. But he knew nothing. And that’s how Beatrix liked to keep things. Much like Hec-Tor, she wished to be a bogeyman, imagination was always the greatest deterrent.

And what was there to explain? Catra was a pain, undisciplined, and unwilling to learn. Beatrix wasn’t about to just let that brat walk over her, of course she snapped! Everything Catra got, every punishment, was because she deserved it. Though... no. No, he couldn’t know. Could he? Did he? Hec-Tor was a master tactician and strategist, he always researched and analysed everything before the attack - what if the Beast already knew the answer to his own question?

Did he know about Melendy?

Beatrix never spoke to anyone about her personal life, especially not her love life. And she had made sure she was back for check-ins, erased her tracks, she was sneaky. She didn’t slip up often. How would he know? Could it be? Was the grand Lord Hordak jealous? A curious stalker.

But perhaps it wasn’t that outside of the realm of possibly. The Queen of Magicats. The Lord of the Horde. Hec-Tor set up many negotiations in the time before the war, people talk.

And what now, he expected her to sit here listen to him give her therapy? As if. If that bastard knew about Melendy’s choice... about her leaving, and didn’t say anything, just holding it over her head as bait - then damn him to the Light! But did he truly know? He couldn’t possibly understand. She was in love. Nothing ever came close to making her feel like that. Not even him. Beatrix loved her, and she chose to leave, just because of tradition, culture. To Light with it!

But what prompted him to care? Perhaps he looked back fondly on the past, reminiscing? Hordak and her didn’t sleep together often, but when the duty became too much, too stressful - they aided each other to settle the nerve. Heh, it took practice to get used to each other, their first time, wasn’t pretty.

She still remembered that night, or well, it was day actually. She always misremembered, since the skies over the city of Catrax were always grey from the city’s pollution. Kids used to come over to their windows and watch the rare instances when sunshine would penetrate the dark clouds above. Very little hope shone down on the people of the lower levels. But the kids of the higher levels, the ones on the first floor, above the clouds, they had all the sunshine they wanted, and took it all for granted.

So when Beatrix and Hec-Tor pickpocketed and stole a little, just to keep living, just to have. It wasn’t that selfish. When the two crash landed on Etheria for the first time they ventured throughout the land, claiming everything they could, stealing and conquering, taking - just to have. Just because they couldn’t in previous lives.

On that day, after Beatrix stole old Mister Scurvy’s wallet as Hec-Tor distracted him, they both ran off away from the yelling man. Ran faster than they ever ran before, too afraid that the man’s screaming would attract the attention of any local law enforcement, if they got them, it was Confinement for sure, no matter that they were teens.

She huffed and panted so hard she almost fell off her own feet. She had to lean herself on the side of a brick wall in the alleyway she ran into. Just as Hec-Tor joined her, the rain began to pour. He bowed down, arms holding his knees, trying to support his upper body. His ears tilted down. His exhausted cough turning into a cackling laugh, which clearly infected Beatrix since she burst into laughter with him. She didn’t really know how it happened, but he got closer to her, with her pinned against the wall, looking straight into each other’s eyes. As their chuckles settled, her hand ventured down to his hip as her lips made their way to his own. And then, well, they were teenagers, you know what else.

Good memories.

Perhaps memories were just the advantage she needed, perhaps Hordak didn’t despise her as much as she had previously thought. Could it be? The All-Mighty Lord of The Horde feeling... lonely?

“Do you remember the alleyway?”

“Eh, there were... many alleyways.”

True that, after it felt so good, the first time, it sort of became a daily routine for them. Partners with benefits. They used each other to feel better, to feel something. There was nothing between the two, or so Beatrix thought. But perhaps she was wrong yet again. She wished to test that.

She took off her mask. The Weaver mask was a totemic symbol back on HordeWorld - representing strength and authority. And underneath that mask, was a woman. A broken woman, with scars and stiches, missing flesh. Something many would call a monster. But Hec-Tor Kur of House Kur saw nothing but beauty. A magnificent beast that saved him many a times. The girl he fell for so long ago. And Beatrix knew that, knew it was the moment she locked her toxic waste green eyes with his blood red, which shimmered in the light of the cell. She knew straight away, his weakness.

“Look at me, Hec-Tor. So frail. I wasted away. So little of me left... The Council was right. No matter what power I aim to tame, I fail, I never amounted to anything, like they predicted. I know you’re disappointed to have me as a partner on this venture... But… I miss the alleyways. When we had nothing. Back when so little felt like so much.”

It worked. The seemingly cold and calculated persona cracked. His facial expression changed, from irritation, and anger to a certain softness, maybe pity. He breathed in heavy, and out through the nose. He took a step closer to her. The cell was a snug fit so his leg was already brushing hers.

“We do have nothing, Beatrix. We are the last of our kind. We have little, but we can have it all. You are not a failure. We are not failures. There is a reason why I haven’t just simply executed you like a common thug... I miss those days too. But we still have time.”

The Hordak kneeled down, lowered himself to be closer to her. This was it - the moment of truth. He clearly had no idea what to do with his hands, so one rubbed its thumb and pointing finger together in anticipation, while the other hovered in the air half open awaiting her permission to proceed. The Weaver of Shadows accepted it, took hold of the old vampire’s hand into her own, intertwining their talons. Old scared skin taking comfort in one another, something familiar, in an unfamiliar world.

“We will have our people back. We will terraform this miserable planet! And we will be the new gods of a new utopia... And... though we never seem to see eye to eye... even if all it was, was physical, there is no one I would rather stand with and watch this world transform into hope, because you are my partner. This is our mission.”

Beatrix was the first to move forward. And Hec-Tor quickly followed suit, he closed his eyes and opened his fanged mouth. And the blissful moment was brief, but glorious, the space bat even let a pleasing hum escape him. And perhaps Beatrix would’ve let it go on longer, it wasn’t often that she had pleasures like these. But this situation was dire, and also, she was really tired of looking at the same white walls all day. She decided she earned herself a little walk to stretch her legs.

Hordak knew there was something wrong - his mouth became colder, and something wriggled inside that made him choke on his own breaths. Shadow Weaver rose up, straightening her legs completely, while Hordak bent down, onto his knees. The Dwarf Stone absorbed all darkness present on all surfaces, rendering her powerless, but the magic stone’s reach was limited. Cause Hordak’s entire inside of his body was nothing but darkness - so many shadows coating all of his vulnerable entrails and organs. She wasn’t going to paralyse him permanently, she wasn’t that cruel - just because of their history, she could show mercy.

Hec-Tor’s face pale and sick, his body limp, blood pooling around his organs, he fell on the floor. Shadow Weaver took a good long heavy breath, perfect. She placed the mask back over her face, and approached the wall of the cell through which Hec-Tor entered. Firmly placed her palms on the stone and pushed against the wall. The ethereal shadows twisted and morphed and drilled into the wall, she didn’t have much time. Every second the walls drained away the shadows, Hec-Tor had very little left in him, and the bright magic of the material weakened her, so little strength was left in her.

But there it was, the sound of the stone cracking. She wormed her fingers into the crack, enlarging it, chipping on it. The rock crumbled down, exposing the metallic layer underneath it. That was it, her window of opportunity. She commanded the shadows to bore into the mechanisms, and the shadow beast tore the panel wide open. The steel bending and ripping was extremely satisfying. Weaver loved the look on Grizzlor’s face as he took in what just happened. The witch made quick work of him, throwing him off to the side with the dark mass. She sighed in relief, she wasn’t free yet, but she had plenty of material to work with. The shadows from smallest corner to the largest corridor converged around her, swirling like a vortex.

“Now this is something I can work with.”

#hordak #shadow weaver #my own repost because i can #shadowdak #weaverdak #also on ao3

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hallowed-be-thy-username · 4 years

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Hi! Can i just say that i absolutely love your writing and your vibe as a whole? 🥺💞 If i may, I’d like to request a fic where the reader is a very well known socialite, but she gets very bored of her life and wants something different. She suddenly meets J in some sort of situation and becomes infatuated with him & his lifestyle. You must be busy with other requests & your personal life, so if anything, i just want you to know that i love your writing! 💘

Sweet anon!!! AKADJSBAJSND 😭💖 I’m SO sorry this has taken me so long to get to and I hope you see it!! This was a really fun one and I had a great time writing it so I really hope you like it 💕

Self-insert, Ledger Joker x fem reader, first time meeting Joker

Word count: 1,954

Warnings: tension, light violence

Something Different

Another boring party with boring people in a boring place. How many more of these must you endure?

Ah the fabulous life of the daughter of Dr. Thomas Elliot, famous Gotham City surgeon and longtime family friend of the Wayne family. Being born to one of Gotham’s founding families, she lives a life of luxury. Chauffeurs, butlers, ritzy charity events, fashion shows, brand promos, intense boredom. You were certainly grateful for the fact that finances were never something you had to worry about, but at the same time, money imprisoned you. It controlled your every move like a puppet master. Stand like this, wear that, speak this way, don’t forget to smile. And don’t even think about having your own dreams. You had access to all of the means in the world to do whatever you want, right? Wrong. If it’ll tarnish the family reputation on any way, its not gonna happen. Ever. And you’d be surprised at what they consider “tarnishing.” Learning to drive, going to school, coloring your hair, going on dates, having a job, getting ice cream with friends. What friends? You never got to experience these things. Things that were normal. Now you were in your late twenties and the life of the average young adult was completely foreign to you. Its been ten years now. Since you started to hate this life.

You were attending yet another fundraiser at Bruce’s place. What was it for this time? Friends of the Gotham Railway? Society for the Performing Arts? Gotham Heights Country Club’s new golf course? District Attorney Harvey Dent. Didn’t he just get elected? Okay then. It really doesn’t matter anyway. They’re all the same. Gourmet hors d’oeuvres, expensive champagne, some phony inspirational speech, bland conversation, smile through how much your feet hurt in these heels, send a check tomorrow. The predictability you lived your life by was astonishing. When were you finally going to get to do something different?

You lifted another glass of champagne from the tray drifting past you and took a heavy sip. Can’t get to drunk though, what would the media say? You were tempted to do it on purpose, just to mix things up for once. The sound of rough whirring broke you out of your melancholic trance and you turned to see a helicopter landing on the roof top balcony outside. The man himself arriving ever so fashionably late. Linking arms with three women you could only assume to be models, how classy. And here comes the motivational speech. I believe in Harvey Dent, a safer Gotham, optimism, face of our bright future, blah blah blah. Now everybody claps. Just wonderful. Back to our mindless mingling.

The evening continued on like they all do. This time you were stuck trying not to stare at the speck of food stuck in Mr. Kane’s teeth while he droned on about the new hotel, they planned to open it across from the opera house. Would it be uncouth to express to him how little you care about any of that? When you were seconds away from excusing yourself for a bogus trip to the ladies’ room, a loud boom rang out from the entryway. You spun around and your body froze at the sound of his voice.

“Goood evening, ladies and gentle-men.”

It felt like ice was running through your veins when you saw him. Purple suit, shotgun over his shoulder, unkempt green hair, painted face. His face. Covered in white with black swallowing his eyes, bright red over his mouth and crawling up his cheeks in a wicked grin. On the news they called him The Joker.

“We are… tonight’s entertainment! I only have one question… Where. Is. Har-vey Dent?”

He was so tall, walking with a slight slouch but had an air of confidence like you’d never seen. Like he knew just how much attention his presence attracted. No, attention it demanded. Like he knew you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. He made it look effortless. Almost like he was bored by it. He tossed food into his mouth, chewing noisily while he spoke. Then he stopped and turned to walk toward the crowd, pointing his shotgun toward the people in front of him before moving on down the line. Your feet grew cold when you realized he was heading in your direction. He tossed champagne out of a glass before mockingly tossing his head back to let the last drop hit his tongue. You couldn’t move a muscle as he leaned in and muttered questions at the people standing nearby. He kept coming. Your heart pounded, climbing into your throat as he got closer.

Then you could see it. It was scars. The red smile stretching across his face, it was painted over scars. Someone had cut through the corners of his mouth on both sides, leaving behind a twisted, permanent, grin. It made your stomach drop. He said something to Mr. Kane, but you couldn’t hear it, only the blood rushing in your ears. He got so close. You swore you could feel the heat from his body, smell something sharp like acetone.

“You remind me of my father.”

Then he suddenly grabbed Mr. Kane by his collar and growled, “I hated my father.”

“Ok, stop.”

Mr. Kane was shoved into you while Joker turned to face the voice coming from behind him. Rachel Dawes, Bruce’s friend for as long as you could remember.

“Well, hello, beautiful. You must be Harvey’s squeeze-ah. Hm?... and you are beautiful.”

He circled her like a wild dog stalking prey, practically licking his chops. Relishing the feeling of cornering his victim. Waving a knife blade at her.

“You look nervous. Is it the scars?... Wanna know how I got ‘em?”

Then he reached forward and gripped her by the back of her neck and her face. You felt your cheeks abruptly grow warmer. He pulled her closer to him, holding her there, not letting her look away. A thought suddenly cut through you mind like the knife in his hand. You wondered if the leather of his gloves felt warm or cool on her skin. Your heart fluttered and a shiver ran down your back. Why were you thinking about that? He intruded without warning and started threatening people, but here you were wanting to know what it was like to be that close to him. You found yourself wishing you were her, just to know what it was like, him touching you.

You hung on to his every word. He had a wife once, who told him he worried to much, that he should smile more, she gambled, got in deep with the sharks. They carved her face, had no money for surgery, she couldn’t take it, he just wanted to see her smile again, he didn’t care about the scars, he stuck a razor in his mouth and did that to himself. He… he did that to himself?

“And you know what? She can’t stand the sight of me! She leaves. Now I see the funny side... Now I’m always smiling.”

You blinked and the next thing you knew, punches were being thrown and men in clown masks were falling to the floor. Batman. The masked vigilante everyone was talking about. He seemed to appear out of nowhere, coming out of the shadows to beat up the bad guys. Reality struck you in that moment. This was real. This was happening. The word surreal doesn’t quite cover it. You wanted something different. Well, this was different. Instead of fear you started to feel something else rising up from inside of you, tingling up your back. Excitement.

A punch from a clown masked man landed square on Batman’s jaw, sending him to his knee and giving Joker the opportunity to start kicking him in the stomach. All you could do was watch, spellbound by the violence occurring before your eyes, wide with anticipation. It almost happened too fast for you to see. He really had nothing holding him back. He couldn’t care less about what people thought of him. Showing up in face paint and a purple suit with a posse of men disguised as scary clowns, commanding even more attention than Bruce. He basked in it, not caring one bit what they thought, only that he left an impression. He did. Especially on you.

You blinked again and he had Rachel. He stood behind her, his arm wrapped around her chest to keep her from running, his other hand waving a handgun in the air. He wasn’t going to drop the gun, not unless Batman took his mask off, show us all who he really was. Then the window behind him shattered with a shot from the gun and he dangled Rachel by her arm out into the open air. Your chest felt tight, as helpless as everyone else watching and unable to do anything about it. But you still couldn’t shake the thrill you felt buzzing in your arms and legs, fogging your mind.

“Let her go,” Batman’s hoarse voice demanded.

Joker squinted his eyes and grinned with ironic amusement as he answered, “Very poor choice of words.”

He let go. His laugh reached down to your bones and held on, pulling you toward him while Batman dove out the window after Rachel. You didn’t know what you were doing but you couldn’t stop yourself. Your feet kept carrying you closer. People all around you started rushing for the exit, running from the taunting men in clown masks like the crowd at a Halloween fun house. Except this was real.

You kept your eyes forward, getting within a few feet of him when he turned and saw you. A chill washed over you, both icy cold and burning hot at the same time when his eyes traveled up and down your body where you stopped in your tracks. Your skin felt like it was on fire.

“Hello, there,” he purred.

You opened your mouth to speak but no sound came out. You just stared at him. Then he started to saunter toward you, slowly closing the gap that separated you, and you almost couldn’t breathe.

The corner of his mouth twitched into a sideways grin. “Aren’t you a pretty little flower, hm?”

Your heart fluttered and your lungs pulled in a sudden gasp of air, that sharp smell filling up your senses. He was right in front of you now. He was right in front of you and you could undeniably feel the heat radiating off of him. Your heart pumped faster, the adrenaline in your veins saturating every tissue. That tingling in your spine came rushing back as his tongue flashed out of his mouth to run along his lip.

“Can I, uh, help you with something, little flower?”

The last sounds of panicked voices faded, and it was completely silent. You were alone. With him. Fear tried to wrestle for a place in the front of your mind, to pull you away, to make you run back toward the door, but the allure you felt was too pervading. You remained still, trying to steady your breath while the gaze from his black-rimmed eyes seemed to swallow you up. Sirens started to echo in the distance.

Then your voice found its way out of your mouth, “I… I just wanted to… um, to get closer.”

His eyebrows shot up and his grin widened as a low hum rumbled in his chest. Your brittle nerves nearly shattered when he lifted his hand and gently took hold of your chin, lifting it and stepping forward to press his chest against yours. “Mmm, this close enough?”

His gloves, they felt cool on your skin.

Taglist!

@youmaycallmebrian @heavymetalnarwhal @neverputsaltinyoureyes @jokersqueenofchaos @into-crazy @killingjokee @astheworlddturns

#ledger joker fic #ledger joker x reader #joker x you #Heath Ledger Joker #the dark knight #tdk joker #joker fanfiction #one shot #anon request

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