#stop looking at me with those sad baby cow eyes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dollfacefantasy · 2 months

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Kiss It Better

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!bunny-hybrid!reader

summary: on a day planned to be just for just you and leon, he gets called into work. it dredges up some old memories, and upon returning home, he wants to make it better by taking extra care of his baby bunny.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, cockwarming, daddy kink, size kink, breeding kink, hurt/comfort, reader copes with her past at the shelter

word count: 6.1k

a/n: yay leon and his baby bunny finally return. i hope this lives up to the first part lol which can be found here. i have another part planned as well if people are interested. as always reblogs and comments mean the world <3

“I could never say no to my sweet baby bunny.”

A statement Leon had said off-hand in the heat of the moment. Something he’d told you as a comfort, a way of warming you up for your first intimate moments together. He hadn’t put much thought into it before it rolled out of his mouth.

But damn, if only he’d known how true it would prove to be.

The words were ringing through his head right now as you dragged him through the mall on another Saturday he dedicated entirely to spending time with you. He’d already bought you a fair amount of stuff from cute frilly socks to pretty pink panties to some tiny t-shirts he knew he’d regret as soon as you used one to get your way. And now you were heading towards a shop tucked away in the farthest corner of the shopping center. His only hope was that the location meant it was the end of the line, the last stop on your trip.

From what he could see, it sold stuffed animals amongst other items that could clutter up his house. Luckily, the small plush toys seemed to be the only things drawing your attention. Your eyes scanned the rows before fixating on a specific one that sat on the bottom shelf. You crouched down to get and pulled it to your chest, standing up again so Leon could see your selection. His eyes soften as he notices your little cottontail twitching with excitement.

He can’t help the smile that spreads on his face at the sight. His sweet girl standing there with a small plush cow in her arms. The tufts of black and white fur jutted out the top of its head near a set of foamy horns. You looked up at him with puppy eyes, which he’d come to view as unfair since he’d chosen a bunny for a reason. But they worked on him all the same.

“Baby-” he starts, but you interject, predicting his argument.

“I don’t have a cow yet,” you plead, “It’s just one more.”

“Yeah, this one is just one more. And so is the next one, and the one after that, and the one after fifty more of these things,” he teases.

“C’mon, please,” you beg, stepping close to him to lean against his chest.

“Is this your way of telling me you want your own bed again? You’re just gonna fill the one we share with more and more of these until there’s no room and I’m pushed to the floor,” he jokes.

“No,” you deny, “Plus I put them away at night anyways.”

“Most of them,” he corrects.

“Cause I need my bear to sleep,” you say with a little pout.

He swears he almost swoons. You’re too fucking cute. He knows he’s spoiled you rotten. You’re treated better than the average hybrid to put it lightly, but he was past the point of paying that any mind. That shelter he’d picked you up from never let you have stuff like this. In his mind, he was righting their wrongs, burying those sad memories with as much cute shit as he could afford. And if other people didn’t approve, if they thought he should keep you silent and on a leash, he couldn’t care less.

Looking down at you now, playfully pleading with him for that stuffed animal, he knew he could never treat you like that. He rolls his eyes and messes with your hair, gently scratching the base of your floppy ears.

“Fine,” he says, “One more.”

You all but cheer with your excitement, bouncing up to give him a fat kiss on the cheek. He takes the stuffie from you and walks to the register to pay for it. You walk, lacing your hand with his and swinging your arms back and forth.

He looks over at you and instantly remembers why he always ends up giving in. Why he can never say no. Now that you had opened up, he couldn’t get enough of you. He’d loved you before that day a few months ago, the day when he’d caught you during your attempt at self-soothing with his pillow between your legs. But since that day, a whole new layer of you had been revealed to him. The sweet and shy bunny he’d met at the shelter touched his heart first, but the affectionate and needy girl you’d allowed him to see owned it now.

He pays for your little cow, adding another bag to the collection hanging from his arm, and leads you out of the store. You tuck yourself under his arm, clinging to his abdomen.

“Thank you, daddy,” you say quietly and press a kiss to his chest.

His heart throbs at the sound of the sweet name you’d attributed to him months ago. He has to remind himself that you’re in public before any other part of his body reacts.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he says and strokes one of your ears with his free hand.

Once the pair of you reach his car, he loads your stuff in before giving you a pat on the ass as you climb in the front seat. You’re all smiles, and he couldn’t feel better. He gets in the driver’s seat and switches the car on. Your hand goes for the controls to the music right away. He always let you pick when you were with him. Each song acted as a little glimpse into you and what you liked.

As you’re selecting one you like, he feels a buzz in his pocket. He fishes his phone out as you share some of the stuff you like about the song you put on. You then start asking him where you’re going next, but the plans slowly begin to unravel as he reads the message displayed over the picture of you he had as his screensaver.

“Shit…” he mutters to himself before looking back up at you. Your ears droop in tandem with his face dropping. “Baby, I gotta drop you back at the house. I gotta take care of some stuff at work for a bit.”

He sees the disappointment in your eyes, and it kills him.

“But… I thought you took the day off,” you say. Your mood rapidly depletes. It wasn’t his fault, but it wasn’t fair. This was supposed to be a day where he was all yours. Twenty four hours where the D.S.O. laid no claim on him.

“I did, but I’ve told you how it is sometimes. I can’t get out of it some days,” he says.

“But you already stayed late all week. What else do they even need you for?” you ask. It may be irrational, but you can’t help how your mind floods with a sense of abandonment in the moment. You knew Leon would never do that, but the years you spent in that shelter had done a good job of convincing you otherwise.

“Just some formality stuff. I’ll be as quick as I can. You know I wouldn’t choose working over being with you,” he says.

Now he’s the one pleading. Your ears are flat on your head, and your eyes are fixed on your seat below you. He knows you feel wounded now even though you’re holding it in.

“If you’re mad it’s ok,” he whispers and reaches out to stroke your jawline, “You can be upset, honey. I won’t get mad at you. I know you were excited about today.”

As much as you had opened up, he could tell you still shied away from showing too much negative emotion. He knew you’d gone through some punishments at the shelter you were still too scared to talk about.

“It’s not your fault,” you say and shrug, dejection all over your features.

He sighs and starts the car, pulling out of the parking space, and heading towards the house. “I know it’s not, but you can still let out some frustration. I wouldn't think you’re ungrateful if that’s what you’re worried about. You wouldn’t get in trouble,” he says, keeping his tone gentle.

You bring your feet up onto the seat and retreat into yourself a bit. With a simple shake of your head, he knows the topic has closed.

He lets out a quiet sigh as he drives down the road. It drips with the frustration that he’s letting you down. He can’t reach inside your head and pull out the negative effects of the shelter. He can’t tell the D.S.O. to fuck off and let him spend as many hours as he wants with his precious girl. All he can do is pull into the driveway and watch you get out of the car, your posture slightly slumped with the encroaching feelings of loneliness. You pull your shopping bags from the car. At least you give him a little parting kiss so he doesn’t feel completely emaciated.

He watches your sad trudge into the house before taking the car back out of the driveway and down the same road in the opposite direction.

Inside the house, the silence dominates you. You pad down the hallway to the bedroom that had once belonged solely to Leon. Dropping the bags of clothes near the door, you then hop on the bed and toss your new little cow up near your other pillows. Your eyes linger on the ceiling. You’d become familiar with the insignificant bumps and ridges above that provided a distraction on sleepless nights. Nights where you just needed to tune everything out and count them to avoid being haunted by the past.

Before Leon had taken you in, you always imagined you’d enjoy the quiet of a real home. The shelter always echoed with loud cries of sorrow, screams of anger, and whimpers of hopelessness. You’d lie on the thin mattress tucked in the corner of your area and try to dream of the days your bed would be lush with pillows and blankets, decorated how you liked and surrounded by the peace of you and whoever had chosen to love you.

And now those days have come. They’re real. You didn’t have to deal with the constant atmosphere of despair or the looming threat of punishment for acting like a human being. So why was it so easy for you to tumble into sadness like this? Why did the quiet no longer mean sanctuary but rather the absence of the person you loved most in this world? You could never work it out. It was too hard. Any time you tried you ended up spiraling into even more self loathing. Because there’s nothing to be sad about anymore. There’s no reason to feel like this. That stuff shouldn’t bother you; it’s nothing more than a collection of ugly memories at this point. Why couldn’t you be grateful for the life Leon had given you? The man gave you just about anything under the sun you could want, so why did one minor inconvenience have to throw you off this badly?

The bags by the door didn’t make you smile anymore. They only brought guilt. You didn’t deserve them. All the gifts and love he lavished upon you would never make you into what you were supposed to be.

Your thoughts consume you for longer than you notice. The sky darkens outside, tinting the room with a violet haze. You lie on the bed under your self-made cloud of gloom for hours, not noticing how much time has passed until you hear the garage door closing and footsteps getting closer. You glance at the bedroom door as it opens silently.

Of course, it’s Leon. His eyes fill with concern at the sight of you. He’d seen you down before but never so deflated. His face now resembles how he looked when he caught you humping his pillow all those months ago, but it’s also distinctly different. He still has curiosity in his gaze, not able to pin down what exactly is the reason for the present circumstances. Though the reaction this time is more worried than surprised. Your present state doesn’t shock him; instead he feels a protective instinct flare within him.

He approaches the bed and sits next to your limp form. His palm rubs up and down your arm slowly. “Hey baby,” he says softly, “You doing ok?”

You look up at him and nod. Sitting up, you scoot to him and align your side with his. Your legs extend out in the opposite direction of him as your head rests on the curve of his shoulder. “I just missed you,” you say softly, your arms encircling the circumference of his bicep.

He presses a kiss to the crown of your head and starts rubbing your back. “You do anything fun while I was gone?” he asks.

“Nothing special,” you respond, “Think shopping made me sleepy.”

You speak with a soft tone of voice, attempting to further the idea that this was merely a bout of tiredness. His eyebrows rise with suspicion. As cute as you look with your cheek squished against his shoulder, he pulls your body around and seats you on his lap. His fingers sweep down your jaw and guide you to look up at him.

“You sure you’re just tired? Nothing else? We weren’t out for that long. I just wanna make sure you’re alright,” he says, trying to show you with how he speaks that it’s not an accusation.

But you remain firm in your convictions and nod. “Mhm, I’m already feeling better. I just needed a little rest,” you assure him and tuck your face against his neck.

It’s not a lie. You were feeling better now that he had returned, each passing moment had little improvement for your mood. But he knew something still wasn’t right. He strokes down the silky expanse of your ears while his other hand massages the base of your tail.

“Well, I missed you too, y’know? Couldn’t stop thinking about my sweet baby bunny the whole time I was at work,” he says.

You were already melting against his chest from the physical contact, but now a smile graces your features. “Really?” you ask, looking up at him again.

“Really,” he confirms, “I felt pretty bad leaving you all alone when it was supposed to be our day.”

“Oh, you don’t have to fe-” you start before he interrupts.

“No, I told you the day was gonna be for us. So how about this?” he asks, rubbing his thumb back and forth over your chin, “How about instead we make it a night for us? I’ll give you a nice bath, put you in some of the new stuff I got you.”

He kisses your head again, then your temple, then your cheek.

“Maybe daddy’ll even give you a special treat before you fall asleep,” he murmurs before kissing your lips.

Taking in a deep breath, you nod. You’re helpless when he treats you like this, disagreeing doesn’t even seem like an option.

“Will you get in the bath with me though?” you ask.

He grins and rises off the bed with you in his arms. “Of course. Anything for my baby bunny.”

The two of you head to the attached bathroom. He sits you on the counter while drawing the bath. Steam drifts up into the hair from the hot water pooling in the tub. He lights some candles, dims the lights, and lets you pick out the scent of bubbles you want.

You sit on the laminate countertop, lazily swinging your dangling legs as you watch him. He checks the temperature of the water multiple times and stares at the clear liquid coming from the bottle of bubble bath. Once that’s taken care of, it’s your turn. He slips your shirt over your head and your bottoms down your legs like you’re the most delicate thing on the face of the earth. Kisses land on your jaw as he pulls your panties off too and drops them in the hamper with the other articles of clothing. So meticulous about everything, at least when it came to you.

He scoops you up again and brings you to the bath, setting you down in the water before twisting the faucet off and discarding his own clothing. Then he climbs in behind you, slotting his body between yours and the cool marble.

“C’mere, baby. Nice and close to daddy,” he murmurs as he pulls you onto his thighs.

You sink into his chest. The feeling of his skin against yours is almost enough to make it all better, enough to make you forget about earlier. You nuzzle into his muscular front, making him smile. He strokes your face and takes care to avoid getting your ears wet.

Both baths and showers used to make you anxious, and he knew that. One of the details you had shared with him about your life at the shelter was having to share the space with all the other hybrids, including the bathrooms. You’d told him how much you hated it, and he could only imagine. He tried extra hard now to make both as comfortable for you as possible, pampering you like an absolute princess.

Thinking about all this, him going above and beyond for you like he always did, makes you turn more into his body. Your arms loop around him, and you place your head beside his, obscuring your downtrodden expression from his vision. Your chin rests on his shoulder as he returns the embrace and holds you closer.

“My perfect girl,” he whispers.

The words are complimentary, but right now, the second in particular stings like a blade. You nestle your face against the warmth of his throat and tighten your limbs around him, trying to drown out the bad swirling inside of you with the feeling of his flesh on yours.

He knows you’re still acting a little unusual. Maybe your heat was right around the corner and it had you feeling extra needy. Maybe you were just still a bit sad about missing out on a day with him. He wasn’t totally sure, but he just wanted to make it better. And the way you were starting to press against him, breasts flush against his chest and the warmth of your thighs pressing against either side of him had his cock starting to stiffen up.

“Sweet thing… you wanna feel a little closer, hm?” he murmurs, fingertips rubbing tiny circles into the small of your back.

You weakly nod.

“Is this close enough? Or should daddy get even closer? I think being inside would feel even better,” he whispers.

You nod again, this time with more motivation. “Please daddy,” you mumble.

“Of course. All you had to do was ask,” he says. He lazily strokes himself a few times beneath the water, getting himself a little harder before he lifts you slightly and slides in.

A soft moan drifts out of you as he lowers you again. You put your head back down on him and sit with the comfort of being full.

“There’s my baby bunny,” he coos in a low voice.

He also takes in the feeling of your tight walls sucking him in. The feeling of your warm, wet embrace wrapped around him.

The two of you sit quietly for a while more, the bathroom silent except for the occasional trickle of water when one of you shifts. Flickering lights from the candles paint the walls in dim orange as the scent of the bubble bath takes over the air completely.

But to Leon’s dismay, your mood doesn’t seem to be brightening up. You don’t start squirming with the need to ride him like you normally would. You don’t get extra sappy with him and start going for more kisses or longing looks.

He reaches for the wash cloth resting on the brim of the tub and soaks it in the water. He squirts some soap onto it and gently rubs it up and down your back. He can feel your muscles losing some of their tension, but you’re still withdrawn. He continues tenderly cleaning you off while you sit with him inside you.

After a few moments more, not knowing becomes unbearable. “Honey, what’s wrong?” he asks softly.

“Nothing, I’m-”

“You’re not just sleepy,” he interjects. His voice is still loving despite the confrontational manner of the conversation.

He gently guides you away from his body so you’re kneeling straight up in the bath. His eyes scan you over, trying to make this easier by figuring out what it is, but he can’t. He brings the wash cloth up to your chest and starts brushing it against your chest, between your breasts, and down your belly.

“I know something’s wrong, and I know you’re scared of talking about things like this. But I would honestly prefer you telling me what it is, even if it comes out harsh, to sitting here and trying to figure out what’s bothering you,” he says as he rubs your skin with the soft cloth.

“I don’t know,” you say timidly.

“I’m only asking because I care. I can’t help you if I don’t know what the problem is. Seeing you hurting hurts me too, baby,” he responds.

“I’m not lying. I don’t know,” you say again, some defensiveness seeping into your words, “I don’t know why I feel bad. I don’t know how to tell you what’s wrong. I just- I felt sad earlier, and I know I shouldn’t feel sad which makes me more sad.”

He sees the panic rising in your eyes and hears your words becoming more rushed. In an effort to keep the situation controlled, he pulls you back to his chest, hushing your worries by engulfing you with his arms. You reciprocate the motion, eager to retreat from your emotions. He takes a pause to grapple with what you had just said.

“What do you mean you shouldn’t feel sad?” he asks.

“Because… because there’s no reason to be sad,” you answer.

“If you’re sad, then there’s a reason to be sad,” he says and looks down at you with growing concern.

You shake your head. “No, there isn’t,” you whimper. You start to feel tears collecting in your eyes while your throat feels like it’s constricting. “You make everything so perfect for me, and I can’t do the same for you.”

He’s beyond confused at this point. He feels a couple tears fall against his neck, and all he can do is hold you tighter.

“Woah, woah, baby, c’mon,” he says, trying to prevent more tears, “What are you talking about? Perfect? I don’t expect you to be perfect.”

“Yeah, exactly because you are perfect. You never push me. You never ask for too much. You never do anything bad, and I still get like this,” you cry.

“... Is that a bad thing?” he asks, still lost.

“No, but I just wanna be perfect for you too. You work so hard all the time at your job, and then you come home and you have to deal with me,” you weep and cling onto him more, “I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t say that,” he says in a hushed voice, “You’re exactly what I want. I couldn’t ask for anything more than you.”

“Yes, you could. You deserve someone who can give you what you give. You deserve someone who’s not fucked up by stupid stuff from the past,” you cry, “I’ll never be a perfect pet, and I don’t wanna disappoint you.”

His chest aches and tightens up when he hears that. He starts to pull out, figuring this wasn’t the time to be balls deep inside you, but you stay locked around him so he stays put.

“Sweetheart, you’re not… I don’t see you as…” he starts, being careful with his words.

You continue your quiet crying against him.

“You’re more than a pet to me,” he decides, soft but firm, “You don’t disappoint me ever. You can’t disappoint me because I don’t have expectations of what you should be. You’re not some dumb animal that I want to mold into a fantasy. I know you were treated like that before, but that’s not what you are to me. You’re my baby bunny. My little love.”

More tears spill out onto him. The bathwater ripples with the shaking of your body.

“You’re not fucked up,” he whispers, “That stuff you went through at the shelter, that’s a big deal. I don’t expect you to just be able to move on from that like it’s normal. You need some extra care, and I’ve known that since the first day you came home with me. It’s not a bad thing. It’s something I love about you. I’m not dealing with you when we do things like this. You’re not a burden to me.”

“Promise?” is all you can choke out right now.

“I promise, baby. Cross my heart and hope to die,” he murmurs and kisses your temple. He sighs and squeezes his arms around you before saying a little more amidst the quiet of the bathroom. “I’m not gonna pretend I know exactly how you feel. But I know how it is to get shoved into a life you didn’t ask for. To get expectations put on you that you can never meet. I don’t want you to feel like that with me. I love you, and I’m gonna love you whether you’re a perfect ‘pet’ or not. That’s not what’s important to me.”

You know he’s being genuine. You hold yourself closer and press a few faint kisses to his throat. “I’m sorry,” you cry.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” he whispers, “Just try and calm down for me, sweet girl. Take some deep breaths.”

You do as he says and work towards settling down. Your breathing slows, and the tears slowly stop. He grabs another washcloth and wets it. He guides your head up and gives you a small kiss before dabbing at your cheeks and cleaning your face of any remaining sadness. Your eyes flutter shut and relax under the loving care of his movements. He tends to your hair next, caring for it how you need.

Once your bath is done, he pulls out of you. You give him a little pout, bringing a smirk to his face.

“Patience, little one,” he teases before standing up with you in his arms.

He taps the stopper with his foot, draining the bathtub as he steps out. He sets you down so he can wrap a towel around his waist and then bundles you up in a big fluffy one. He dries you off and brings you in front of the mirror. He applies some product to your ears, something he’d gotten to keep them from drying out. You can’t help the smile on your face as his fingers gently rub down your long, fluffy ears. You can feel his love through his motions. He follows it with your hair routine, going through each step with precision and making sure to do it just how you like.

Before he takes you to the bedroom, his arms curl around your waist and he slots his head next to yours, gazing into your eyes through the reflective glass of the mirror.

“My baby bunny,” is all he says before pulling you out to the bed and laying you down on it.

He gets some of your lotion, a scent he’d become so familiar with. He rubs it all up and down your legs, taking time to lightly massage as he works. His hands glide all over your body, over your hips, up your sides, across your chest, and down your arms to your hands. Every inch of you was going to feel soft as silk if he could help it. The soft sighs of pleasure that come from you are enough to keep him thoroughly invested in the process.

When he’s finished, he plants a kiss on your lips and gets up. He heads to the door where you had dropped the shopping bags from earlier. He’s rifling through them, pulling out some new items you could wear to bed. He fishes out a cute t-shirt and some smooth panties when he hears your voice call to him.

“Wait, daddy?” you say.

“Yeah, baby?” he responds immediately, looking over his shoulder at you.

“Come back,” you request.

He looks at you curiously but stands up and walks back to the edge of the bed where you were sitting. Looking down at you lovingly, he holds your jaw and squeezes your cheeks. “What is it?”

“I don’t wanna get dressed yet… Maybe I could still have my treat… if you want to,” you initiate timidly while grabbing the hem of his towel.

He smiles and breathes out a laugh. “Yeah? You’re feeling better and need daddy again?” he asks teasingly, letting you tug the towel loose. It crumples to the floor behind his legs and unveils his cock to you.

“Always need my daddy,” you say, looking up at him.

“Don’t I know it,” he teases.

He pushes you back on the bed and crawls on top of you. Leaning down, he kisses and nips at your neck. His hands squeeze your hips. You nuzzle the side of his head affectionately. Out of the corner of your eye you see him swat away the plush cow that sat nearby on a pillow from when you’d thrown it earlier.

“Hey,” you say, feigning protest, “That’s mean. He didn’t do anything.”

“I’m sure he’ll forgive me,” he says with a grin.

Your body is already exposed from the bath, and he takes advantage. He kisses down along your collarbone towards the valley of your breasts. His palms cup them at the sides as his lips coast over them. He always took his time with you when he could. He’d get to rush when you were in heat and soaked just from being in the room with him.

Your fingers lace through the strands of his hair as you draw in a sharp breath. He laves at your nipples and the sensitive flesh of your breasts. His tongue caresses along the curves slowly, building your anticipation and causing your tummy to start fluttering.

His hand slides down your body, dipping between your legs to seek out your center. His fingers brush against the velvet folds and feel how they’re beginning to grow slick with your arousal. He swirls around your clit before pressing down on the sensitive nub and rubbing. Your lips part as you mewl.

“Is daddy already making you feel good, baby?” he coos.

You nod as your face starts to morph into that pouty look you get when you’re worked up. He loves every second of it and continues flicking his middle finger against the bud.

“You gonna let me show you how perfect you are, hm?” he asks.

You simply whine in response and tilt your head back against the pillows.

“That’s my girl. So fuckin’ pretty when you get like this,” he says.

He swipes his fingers up and down some more until he feels you're wet enough and ready to take him. He was certain you could take it without as much prep. Over the last couple of months, you’d you’d shown him the phrase “fucking like rabbits” was true after all, but he liked making you feel like you needed it. He like dragging his tip against your entrance, teasingly prodding the head of his cock at your hole. He savored the way you whine and squirm for it. Just like you were doing right now.

He pushes it in you, a deep groan coming from him as he sinks in all the way to the hilt. The way your eyes flutter and droop drives him crazy. His arms cage you down on the mattress as his knees sink into the plush blankets for leverage so that he can start thrusting.

“Perfect fit, that’s for sure,” he grunts, “No one else can take my cock like you can.”

You nod, whimpering and holding onto him. “Made for my daddy,” you say before gasping.

“Yeah you were. My perfect angel bunny. Sent down just for me,” he says and starts rocking his hips.

You writhe within the confines of his arms. Your breasts push up against his chest as your back arches. He fucks into you deep as he can, just how he knows you like it. Gripping your wrists, he pins them on the mattress, keeping you secure and in place so that he can piston his hips against you without interruption.

His own head tilts back, eyes shutting and lips separating the smallest bit. You gaze up at him like he’s the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen. Every bit of him makes you clamp around his length.

“Such a good girl,” he mutters, “This is just what you needed. Just needed daddy to breed you and get you nice and calm again.”

That word makes your fuse burn faster, and you nod vigorously. “Can’t help it daddy,” you whimper, “I’m just a bunny. Don’t know any better.”

“Oh, I know, baby. Sweet little bunny like you needs to be bred. You need daddy’s cock to function, don’t you? Nothing feels right if you haven’t been bred,” he says, picking up more speed.

“Mhm,” you squeak.

Your legs start trembling hard as he hammers into your sweet spot over and over. To stabilize you, he lets go of your wrists and places his palms on the back of your thighs. He’s pressing you so hard into the mattress it feels like you might drop through straight to the floor. You cry out for him again and again, spurring him on.

“Good girl. I gotta breed my perfect little bunny. Fuck you nice and full like you deserve,” he grunts. The bed creaks with the force of his movements.

He pants as he drills into you. His head eventually falls forward to your shoulder again, but his hips don’t stop rolling.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum so hard, you’re gonna end up with a whole litter,” he moans.

Your eyes roll back and your legs lock around his waist. “Need it, daddy. Please,” you whine and clutch at his shoulders.

“I need it too baby. Need to knock up my sweet baby bunny. Gotta get you nice and full so everyone knows you’re all mine,” he says.

You’re both almost at the peak, gripping each other as tight as possible, sucking in air like there’s a limited supply. Both of you are moments from snapping when Leon’s eyes screw shut, his mind clouded by images of you pregnant with his babies. It’s too much, and he’s snapping into you like he’ll die otherwise.

“You’re gonna be the prettiest mama to our perfect babies,” he moans against you before his body starts sputtering.

The feeling of his cum flooding into you is enough to throw you over the edge with him. You seize up, back arching off the bed like you're possessed. You babble out some words of love, but all of it gets lost. You’re so jumbled up from the high, you both can only cling to each other as you ride it out.

You’re still breathing heavy as you come down, and so is he. Puffs of his breath come out right next to your ear. He lazily kisses below the lobe as you come back to reality.

“You see how important to me you are? See how much I love you?” he murmurs as he carefully rolls over and brings you to rest on his chest with him still buried inside you.

You nod and peck his jaw as you settle against him.

“Good. I never want you thinking like that again. If you ever need a reminder of what I think of you, I want you to tell me, and I’ll give you this same reminder.”

“I will,” you agree softly as he strokes your back.

You’re both exhausted from the exertion and the long day. He’s content to just melt into the bed while tangled up with you.

“Gonna keep you plugged up for a while, baby. Gotta make sure it takes, my sweet girl,” he mumbles as his eyes start drooping.

You gaze up at him, pretty sure you have hearts in your eyes. Your doubt and sadness had been abated for now. You nuzzle him and kiss his chest before trying to get some rest yourself.

“Love you daddy. So so much,” you whisper.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy smut #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #resident evil x you

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steelycunt · 2 months

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hi so i have a question for you about the way you picture r in your head bc i think you have a really good grasp on him in your writing and bc i can picture everyone else p clearly but r is just so nebulous to me and it's hard to find a reference bc most ppl tend to use references that are much too pretty. i do think r has a quality about him that is attractive but ONLY to a small, freaky niche of ppl. like...if you're into that. and i think btwn him and s he is more likely to be a bit twinkish maybe. like i think he can be clocked. and that's why lesbians like tonks are perhaps instinctively attracted to him (again, niche market..) anyway just wondering if you have any must haves in your head when you think of r appearance-wise

hello!! to be honest all characters in anything i read tend to be a bit nebulous to me, i can picture quite decisively certain features but i cant make them sit on one face without blurring and sliding and fading. i agree that people usually use references that are far too pretty, like models or pinterest eboys or whatever. i think its really lame and boring to make out that hes a conventionally attractive stud...it goes so against him as a character and i also think its pretty lame that you have to do that to a character in order to be interested in him. anyway!

i dont think r is ugly or anything, and apart from anything i dont really believe in ugliness so when i do use that i mean it only in regards to features that conventional beauty standards shun/would deem 'ugly'. i think hes mainly just very plain and regular looking, like a normal human guy, unremarkable. i dont think people (unless you are s) look at him and generally remark upon his attractiveness the way they would with s. there are a dozen guys that look like him walking down the street at any one time. one thing i do believe in is his very large wet sad tired dark-circled baby cow eyes (brown or green) and his very long lashes...i think he maybe does have an attractive quality to him because he is kind and clever and such but i also think most people do...and that is still lightyears away from him being like model-hot with a chiseled jaw or anything like that.

otherwise i think i will never not picture him with a big nose...he has mousy brown (prematurely greying) floppy hair...it really throws me off when people describe him as blond or as having auburn hair enough that ive stopped reading before. i imagine him as being lanky and gangly and i HATE musclar/broad-shouldered/ripped r i think its pathetic. as if he'd fucking ever. definitely more so than s who while i still dont believe hes ripped i imagine as a bit more muscular! lean! but yeah i think those are the essentials to how i imagine him! sort of scratchy looking, hair must be brown and floppy, nose must be big, build must be brittle. he is very lovely 2 me

#r #anon #telegram

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eldritcmor · 1 year

Text

more blurbs!

Storm hummed.

"Clarisse can you answer a question for me?"

Clarisse stiffened but nodded anyway.

"How many Greek demigods are in one generation?"

"About one thousand."

"And how many make it to camp?"

"Four hundred spread throughout a few years."

"How many make it past puberty?"

"One hundred."

"How many live long enough to have children?"

Clarisse snorts.

"If they're lucky. Maybe fifty."

"And why is that?"

Clarisse hummed a moment as if in thought.

"Because we are continuously hunted throughout our entire lives. Mind you, that's not factoring in the other things."

"Like?"

"Three is a sacred number for quests, cause anymore and someone is nearly guaranteed to die. Sometimes parents aren't always understanding of the fact that their children are different and well the baby drowned in the bathtub. Other times, we fight wars for the gods. Run errands for the gods. Or we simply notice the monsters too late. Mostly, we find out what we are and die running for a camp that may not be able to take us."

Storm continued to hammer away at the billet of hot metal on their anvil. Price looked on, a grim set to his jaw.

"Kid."

"Don't captain, just don't. If I wanted to throw my life away, I would walk out those doors and simply stop fighting."

Storm took a deep breath and lunged forward. They hadn't seen them yet and now was the time. They quickly scaled the wall nearest to them and slid out the busted window. Glancing back, they briefly made eye contact with what seemed to be the hit squad's captain. A man with some serious facial hair. Someone to watch out for then.

Storm desperately pressed their head into ghost's shoulder, breath coming in harsh pants. Their eyes were wide with panic. Their nails drew blood, as they dug into ghost's forearm. Ghost made a quiet noise of pain as he attempted to calm Storm down.

"Storm! Storm!" A quiet whimpered phrase reaches his ears. A continuous chant "trahere eum." Storm kept attempting to curl over their stomach.

Storm smiled, a sad bittersweet thing as they watched "they" stalk closer. They tasted blood on the back of their tongue and the iron pipe to the gut certainly wasn't helping. They cooed as "they" leered over them.

"Hello [REDACTED]. It's good to see you again." Storm spoke the forbidden name with a dying man's confidence. They reached up, swiping a thumb along "they"s jaw. Leaving a trail of crimson blood.

"They" no longer looked the part of a healthy human. The illusion that had been so carefully constructed by storm stripped into nothingness. Instead a corpse walked on tree branch limbs. Skin grey from decay and stained a bright red with Oklahoma clay. Their chest cavity was open to the wind, sternum split and guts missing, save for a lump of rotted black flesh that served as a heart.

Storm felt their heart slowing from blood loss, pain becoming a distant haze. Tears trickled down their cheeks in a slow stream.

"I'm sorry [REDACTED], I'm sorry I was such a lousy sibling. But at least now, two will leave instead of one."

The funeral was a quiet affair. Just taskforce 141, Laswell, and a few friends of storm.

Gaz hummed as he shuffled a few cards into the deck.

"Question. What exactly do we know about storm?"

Soap cocked his head to the side.

"What do you mean?"

"Like outside of their military career, what do we know about them?"

"Well they probably have family, right? I mean they're never on base when we go on leave."

Ghost rumbled.

"Depends on the leave. Anything longer than five days and they're off base. Shorter and they stick around."

"Oh right, LT you usually stick to base. What do they do?"

"They train and cook mostly."

"Train? Like in the gym? I thought they mostly used the trails around base to train."

"Don't remind me, training with them is brutal. I still don't know where they got a cow that fuckin angry."

"They stick to the gym a little bit. Mostly using the sparring mats."

Soap snorts.

"To what? Roll around by themselves?"

"No, they use them for sword drills."

"Sword drills? Where the fuck did they get a sword?"

"Never asked."

"So you didn't question why they have a sword?"

"Nope. They usually go till they drop though."

"Drop?"

"Till they can't hold the sword up anymore. Sometimes past that."

"Isn't that dangerous?"

"They don't complain about it, even if we have a mission the next day."

"Oh, what do they cook? Cause you said they train and cook?"

"Johnny, who do you think makes those baked apples you like so much?"

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. They cook a variety mostly and there's always extra portions."

Storm stared down at the tiny pair of gossamer wings they had just coughed up. This couldn't be here. It couldn't have infected them again! And yet, they could feel it building under their skin. The pulsing rush of heat and power riding along their nerves. They had to leave. They had to leave now! Storm rushed out of the bathroom and to their room. Yanking on clothes and swiping an empty duffle from under their bed. Basic first aid kit, a couple of knives, a few changes of clothes, a canteen, and any non-perishable food they had on hand. All of it went into the bag. They threw the bag on their back and started walking. A glance at the clock in the common room said it was somewhere around 3:00am. Good, no one would see them go. Probably. They left their phone and wallet on their bunk. No need for them anymore, the power humming under their skin would probably fry them immediately anyways. They climbed into their car and got the fuck off base.

Storm pulled to a stop. The sun was peeking over the horizon now. Their watch said 6am. They had been driving for three hours straight. Taking a mix of back roads and country lanes. They had one goal in mind and one destination. Get the fuck away before the horrible power built too fast and exploded and the reserve lands for the well more human hungry side of things. They could feel the power writhing under their skin. Storm knew their control was slipping and slipping fast. They rested a hand on the hood of their car and released their hold on that burning power. The car crunched under their touch. The frame warped, twisted, and folded inward. The windows imploded under the force. The body crumpled with a horrible screech of metal. The car looked like something had twisted it till it had juiced like an orange. It was barely enough to take the edge off of the power building in Storm's body but it would do for now. Storm booked it into the thick forest around them immediately after. The power rebuilt with each step, until it was too much. Way too much, and the world exploded in a blinding flash of searing lightning. Storm screamed.

Price was staring down at his phone. Soap peeked over the captains shoulder to see what was holding his attention for so long.

It was a video. A video of storm in a faded orange T-shirt and jeans pinning someone to the dirt as they fought like animals. There was a big crowd around them, and even others fighting in the background.

A voice comes through the speaker.

"Hi, uh storm kinda just shoved the phone in my hands. I'm uh well just call me spoon. Anyway, yeah we just made into the reunion's grievance portion." The audio is briefly overtaken by someone screaming Storm's full name as they practically tackle them off of the other person. Storm switches to fighting them. "KICK THAT ARES KID ASS STORM! Anyway, yeah uhm I don't know what to say here. How do I stop recording anyway? STORM!"

Storm briefly looks up. "YEAH! WHAT IS IT?"

"HOW DO I STOP RECORDING?"

Storm hollers as they are pinned in the dirt. "RED BUTTON."

"Ah, okay. Red button...red button. There you are." The video cuts off.

Soap Snickers.

"Wait is that why they requested like two weeks of leave? For that?"

Price snorted. "Their reasoning was family reunion. And I guess yeah that checks out."

Fingers carded through storm's hair as they slowly come to. Their brain felt fuzzy and their awareness was narrowed down to the fingers scratching and tugging at their scalp. Their eyes felt heavy. Oh so heavy. They don't think they can open them fully right now. The fingers briefly pause before resuming their motions as they grunt in effort from cracking their eyes open.

"Easy Corporal, your safe. Your okay." Everything is fuzzy indistinct shape but that rumble is familiar. Ghost. Guess the team had made it in time after all. Storm relaxes back into sleep, reassured that their team came for them.

Storm grinned as they looked Philip Graves dead in the face with a very happy grin.

"You have a very punchable face."

Grave's just blinked in confusion.

"Excuse me?"

Storm just grinned.

"You have a punchable face."

Grave's chuckled nervously.

"What does that even mean?"

"It means I would start running." Soap laughed as he walked by, a cup of tea in hand.

Graves stared.

Storm stared.

Graves sighed and looked storm dead in the eyes.

"Okie?" He asked and already Price could see Graves tense.

Storm grinned, something sharp and feral.

"Tex." They stayed. "Good to see ya, man."

Graves sighed with relief. "Good to see ya too, okie. Why ya here?"

Storm hummed as they rocked back on their heels. "Laswell sent me, said somethin' bout a taskforce might be dealin' with what I handle. That and I didn't forget whatcha said bout my ma."

Graves tensed immediately, raising his hands in a surrender motion. "Now now, okie. That was a long time ago."

Storm snorted. "Sure it was. But unfortunately for you, I don't take kindly to shit like that so plain and simple, start runnin' Tex."

*141 is trapped in a building that is on lockdown and the lights have shut off completely*

"Have you eaten today?"

"No, why?"

"Damn. Here eat this granola bar."

"Oh. Oh sweet, it's the good granola."

*Storm Munching noises*

"Great, now hold still."

"Wha?"

*A loud slap echos throughout the space and a soft orangey glow eminates from one person.*

"Did you forget that your gift was dubbed glow stick?"

"Little bit yeah."

Storm is dead. STORM is dead. Storm IS dead. Storm is DEAD. Simon could feel the anger and panic rushing under his skin. STORM IS DEAD! Their blank eyes stared at him as he attempted to break his restraints. Unfortunately these weren't amateurs who had captured them. Wrists behind him and separated, ankles trapped against the legs, chest secured under several winds of rope, and Storm. Was. Dead. No longer would someone sharpen his combat knives to a razor's edge as they relaxed on their bunk. No longer would someone be on base with him when the rest of the team went on short periods of leave. No longer would food appear at his elbow when he was knee deep in paperwork because they didn't know how to Express themselves with words. No longer would someone intentionally seek him out when he was on the roof to smoke and chat about anything under the sun. Ghost flinched back as Storm's killer crossed into his line of sight. His teeth ached to bite of the fuckers throat. To make the bastard pay for putting a bullet in Storm's head. To pull Storm across his shoulder and make sure they at least still got a funeral.

#call of duty x reader #cod mw2 #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #141 x reader #kyle gaz garrick #taskforce 141 #captain john price #Eld writes

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toomuchracket · 10 months

Text

tbh i think this could work for any au - i've been thinking a lot about joining matty for jiu jitsu training. like you're on tour with the band too, for at least a little while, and you and matty are trying to spend every possible spare second together. thus, he ropes you into his training one morning with a pleading pout and those big baby cow eyes of his - as soon as you agree, you get a big kiss and then matty's turning you around so he can put your hair up for you in prep lmao (which is very cute of him. you can see him in the mirror in your room and he's got his little concentrated face on).

the actual jiu jitsu itself is quite funny, i think. matty gets a row for getting distracted just looking at you and not listening to the trainer lmao, and then when it comes to splitting into pairs and sparring (is it still called that in jiu jitsu? i'm not sure. you know what i mean, though) your competitive side comes out and you're DETERMINED to beat matty at least once, despite the fact he's been training in it for years and you've been training for literally forty minutes lol. delulu icon!

anyway, naturally, you do not end up winning - within like three mins, in spite of your best efforts, you're on your back, frowning at your boyfriend sitting on top of you with a shit-eating grin, leaning down to kiss your nose like "soz babe". and you try to do some sort of manoeuvre to get him off you, but he still manages to keep you pinned down, giggling like "i love you, i really do, but sweetheart you are REALLY shit at this. like even for day one"; you pout at him and he's like "nope that won't work i won't let you win", but he has to close his eyes tightly to stop from caving at your little sad face lol. THAT'S when you manage to successfully flip him so you're sitting on his upper chest - you cheer, and matty's like "illegal move! i was caught unawares!" and you're like "um no hello first rule of any fight ever is to not take your eyes off your opponent?? even i knew that one". and matty sighs like "ok fair", but he grins cheekily again and he's like "you know, i quite like this position", to which you're like "well, you could tap out now and just stay in it" and matty's like "you'd love that, wouldn't you?"; before you can respond, he does some weird roll thing so he's on top of you while you're on your stomach, laughing while you curse. but he leans down to whisper in your ear like "don't worry, baby, you can get back on top of me later as a thank-you for doing this with me. in fact, if you tap out now, we can do it sooner rather than later" lmao. yeah, just a fun, flirty little moment <3

#mads muses #matty asks #fluff asks

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nisbanisba · 2 months

Text

I wrote a little follow up snippet to my previous tarlos sickfic snippet https://www.tumblr.com/nisbanisba/746756738344157184/i-never-write-and-am-not-likely-to-ever-complete (I tried to figure out how to do a hyperlink but it seems like tumblr app is not big into usability) anyway here ‘tis

Nancy stops by and drops off a flu survival kit (she made a few on her own time because it’s a really bad flu season and she and her friends get coughed on (and worse) daily by the good people of Austin, and Nancy is nothing if not organized and prepared, not to mention a really fucking good friend).

Nancy: hey I’m here. TK: you still have our spare key right? You can use it, I can’t get up

Nancy: you can’t get up now? Are you sick too?

TK: I’m fine I think I’m just finding out what it’s like to have a cat

Nancy comes up to the loft using her key and discovers Carlos snoring with his head in TK’s lap while TK pets his head.

“Ohh, yeah,” she confirms, “this IS what it’s like to have a cat, and it IS illegal to move. And then Carlos would have to arrest you, and the poor dude’s clearly not up for it—“

At this, Carlos’s brow creases and his (rather loud) snores are replaced by a coughing fit, after which he moans softly and squints at Nancy.

“Hey buddy,” she coos, using much the same tone she uses to address her own cats.

“Hey Nancy,” he rasps, brow still crinkled in confusion. “Were we supposed to have a hang tonight? TK should have canceled,” he looks over at his husband reproachfully, “Babe, you didn’t tell them I was sick?”

“Put those eyes away, baby. No we weren’t supposed to have a hang, and I DID tell Nancy you were sick, and she brought over a ton of supplies for you because she’s awesome,” TK tells Carlos, his own eyes impossibly fond.

“Glad you realize that, Strand, any way I could get that in writing?” Nancy smirks. “But yeah, Carlos, I’ve got your back. How are you feeling, bud?”

Carlos flops his head on TK’s lap to turn towards Nancy and gazes at her with huge, sad red-rimmed cow eyes. “I feel like I’m gonna die. But TK’s taking care of me, and he says I won’t.”

“You won’t, baby.”

“Ok.” Carlos closes his eyes again, swallowing painfully and sniffling. Suddenly his eyes snap open again and he looks at Nancy, vaguely panicked. “I’m such a bad host. Do you want something to drink? We have tea, um, water—“ He actually makes a very uncoordinated attempt to get up but TK presses him back down easily.

“Baby for the LOVE of God—“

“Dude you are NOT trying to host me right now!”

#911 lone star #tarlos #carlos is a sad adorable baby when he’s sick #i don’t make the rules #carlos reyes #tk strand #nancy gillian #tk strand x carlos reyes #tk strand & Nancy Gillian #Carlos reyes & Nancy Gillian #sickfic #911ls #ficlet

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kens-double-sunglasses · 2 years

Text

Being their sibling, warning I'm an older sibling. Those are gonna get so much more

Riddle - Younger

Not close at all

Where he was moms perfect little puppet, you were probably glued to your dad or doing your own thing

I hope your magic isn't as strong or stronger than Riddle's

Because that would be a new circle of hell

You're the chill sibling

He gives Isabella while you give Mirabel

Probably sat down and talked out y'all's issues over break after he overblotted and hopes that you two can become closer if/when you get into NRC

Plot twist: You're accepted to RSA (because you'd be the white Queen to his red Queen. Thanks Tim Burton Alice in wonderland for making the queen of hearts the red queen)

Trey - Younger

Babies you

Like, y'all're full grown adults and he's still coddling you

But, as compensation you get a lot of sweets

This only works out fot you if you like sweets

Otherwise? RIP

Shuts down any arguments you two come close to having very quickly

Idk why, I feel like he'd come off as very condescending to any sibling who isn't 10 or under

Like, you can drive and he's gentle parenting you

He means well, but he'll never stop seeing you as a kid. No matter how close in age you are

Cater - Older twin

This man radiates twin energy to me

Probably because he feels a need to stand out to a degree

Makes his magicam fame wishes and his backstory a little sadder if he's a part of a matching set

You guys wore matching outfits all the time as kids

You were probably taking one for the team pretty often when dealing with your sisters

Whether you enjoyed it or not, Cater probably threw you under the bus a couple of times

If you didn't enjoy it, you probably felt a responsibility to look after him. You may only be older by a few minutes, but you're still his older brother/sister/sibling

If you enjoyed it? No harm, no foul

He needed a break, okay?!

Deuce - Older

Protective as all holy hell, even if you're older

Ace made eye contact with you once and Deuce immediately pushed him out of his chair

You've probably had to put up with some serious bullshit because of his former reputation as a delinquent

If you can't jump Deuce? Jump his older, probably not a delinquent Sister/Brother/Sibling

Jokes on them. Where do you think Deuce learned to fight? (Also you're a former delinquent, the egg doesn't roll far from the nest)

Even when he was a delinquent, he was always mooching off of you

Still kinda does, but that's more habits between you two

You probably kept a lot of things from him, because it was nice for him to have some wonder in his life

Like brown cows not making chocolate milk

AND about how eggs work

If y'all celebrate secular Christmas or Easter, you probably kept the holiday magic alive for him too

Like, you would sneak out of your room at 2 AM and make it look like the holiday icon actually stopped by

Refuses to argue with you

You're his replacement for his father

Regardless of gender or sex

While he doesn't want to make his mom sad ever again, he's always wanted to make you proud

Ace - Older

He has definitely given an authority figure your phone number when they asked for your parents'

"I'm going to smother you in your sleep"

"If you do that, who's gonna call you out of school a week early for spring break because some imaginary family member died?"

If you go to NRC too, you're probably harder on him than Riddle is, regardless of your dorm

Partially because he's a dick.

Also because y'all live in a society and he needs to learn

Also because only you get to bully him and when you do, you're getting him back for ALL his bullshit over the years

You two hurt eachothers feelings all the time

...but you never actually apologize, it just kinda festers until it boils over

"I heard you made a deal with Azul, what did I tell you about him?"

"Stop acting like you know everything, you aren't perfect! I wish [insert classmate here] was my older brother instead of you!"

"Oh yeah? Well at least then, [older brother name] and I wouldn't have to cover for your ass all the time! Take some responsibility for once in your life!"

And then you both go to your rooms pissed off

And don't talk for a week

I hope you're good at apologizing first

Because he will not

Because he is not only a dick, but the baby of the family

#disney twst #twst x reader

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vampireshmampire · 2 years

Text

The Wind Sighs Through the Pines (And the Pining Vampires Sigh)

pine (verb): suffer a mental and physical decline, especially because of a broken heart Guillermo wants to know what's wrong with Nandor, Nadja wants Nandor to stop acting like an idiot, Laszlo has an idea but everyone is too mad to listen to him, Colin Robinson is still a baby, and Nandor... *sigh*

[my contribution for @wwditsevents WWDITS exchange! written for @marypoppinstm

“I’m going to lose it,” Guillermo said, thumping down in an armchair next to the couch Nadja was sprawled across. “Why does he keep looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” Nadja did not ask who ‘he’ is, because she didn’t have to.

“Those big sad puppy eyes! Every time he thinks I can’t see him, he stares at me like I just kicked him!”

“Did you ask him?”

“Yes! Every time I ask him if he needs anything, he just gives me a chore to do and runs off!”

“Y’know,” Laszlo said from the corner, “I think–”

“Shut up, Laszlo!” Nadja and Guillermo snapped in unison.

“Right-o.”

“Obviously he’s upset about the whole ‘being abandoned’ thing–”

“But we told him that was Laszlo’s fault!” Nadja protested. “How is he mad at you?”

“I don’t know if he’s mad. He’s not glaring. He’s just…staring. And sometimes he sighs.”

Nadja looked at him sharply.

“Sighs how?”

“The…normal way?”

Nadja rolled her eyes.

“What does it sound like, shit-for-brains? Like–” She let out an exaggerated, angry huff. “Or more–” She slumped her shoulders and let out a soft, sad sigh.

Guillermo considered.

“More like the second one,” he decided. Nadja narrowed her eyes.

“Hmm. I will need to see this for myself,” she said, decisively.

“If I could make a suggestion–”

“NO.”

“Fair enough.”

Nandor leaned against the window and stared out at the backyard, where Guillermo was raking leaves. Normally Guillermo did the outdoor chores during the day, but Nandor didn’t mind. With Guillermo outside and the lights off inside, Nandor was hard to see, and could stare all he wanted without risking being caught.

‘Oh, Guillermo,’ Nandor thought, his heart aching in his chest like an open wound. He’d never been good with words, but lately he’d been considering trying his hand at poetry. These thoughts were driving him insane, hounding him day and night. Maybe they would stop flying around his head if he pinned them to the page.

But did he have the words? Maybe once, in Al Quolindarian. (Doubtful. He’d been a warrior, not a poet.)

Were there words in English for the curl of hair on Guillermo’s forehead, for the steady and reassuring presence he radiated like body heat whenever he was near, for the wrinkle of concentration that appeared between his eyebrows? Oh, to have that intensity turned on him, the way it had been in his room all those months ago.

At the time, it had happened so quickly, he’d barely had time to think, but since then he had gotten very good at slowing it down in his head, reliving moment by moment. Guillermo’s breath hot against his cheek, the strength in Guillermo’s arms as he held Nandor fast–would Guillermo hold him like that again? Not as an enemy, but with tenderness? Look at him with brown eyes full of fire–but a blaze of passion in place of rage?

Nandor sighed.

“What are you doing?”

The light flicked on, and Nandor threw himself to the floor as Guillermo looked up at the sudden wash of light.

“Nothing!” Nandor hissed at Nadja. “Go away!”

“You are not doing nothing. You are standing here in the dark, staring at Guillermo.” Her nose wrinkled. “And sighing.”

“If you knew, why did you ask?” Nandor demanded.

“Why are you standing in the dark staring at Guillermo and sighing?” Nadja demanded back.

“None of your business.”

“I am making it my business.”

Nandor said nothing. He debated if it was more debasing to crawl out from under the window or to stay on the floor.

He opted to stay down for now.

“Bad enough you go around making cow eyes at your body-guard; could you at least not be so bloody obvious about it? He is starting to notice!”

“He won’t notice,” Nandor said gloomily. “He never notices me.”

Nadja rolled her eyes so hard it looked painful.

“Why are you being such a baby about this? Just go fuck him already!”

“Nadja!” Nandor said admonishingly. “It is not that simple!”

He wished it was something as easy as mere lust.

“I think I am dying, Nadja. Every day I am weaker than before. My mind is, is…” He struggled for a moment then said “See? Nothing!”

“You are not dying, you are just sad and horny for your bodyguard.”

“It is worse than that,” Nandor said, miserably. He looked away, not wanting to see her reaction. “I am in love.”

Silence.

More silence.

The light turned off. The door closed. Nadja’s footsteps faded away.

Nandor stayed on the floor, and sighed.

“So did you talk to him?”

“Yes.”

Guillermo did not like how flat and stiff Nadja sounded. Could Nandor actually be mad at him?

“So?” he said, when she didn’t go on.

“He’s not mad.”

“So why is he doing it?”

Nadja wouldn’t even look him in the eye.

“I can’t tell you.”

“What do you mean you can’t tell me?”

“I mean I can’t tell you! What else would I fucking mean?”

“Why?”

“Because!”

“Oh well, in that case–” Guillermo started, sarcasm dripping from every syllable.

“Don’t you get all snippity with me!” Nadja said. “Why don’t you go ask him?”

“I did! He won’t tell me either!”

“It’s probably because he’s in love with you,” Laszlo said, voice slightly muffled by the safety pin he was holding in his teeth while he struggled to get the baby into a clean diaper.

“No one asked you,” Guillermo snapped. “This whole thing is your fault, anyway, so unless you want me to un-table the ‘killing you for locking me in a coffin’ thing, you stay out of–I’m sorry, what was that?” Guillermo asked as his brain caught up with his ears.

“I said,” Laszlo paused to take the safety pin out of his mouth. “He’s probably staring and sighing because he’s in love with you.”

Guillermo opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it.

“Sorry, what? Why would–did he say…?”

“Doesn’t have to. I’ve seen him do it, and it’s the same way I feel whenever I look at my lady wife.”

Nadja melted, then caught herself.

“Ex-lady wife,” she snapped.

“Not yet.”

“Nearly! As soon as I finish the paperwork. Which I will!”

“As you say,” Laszlo said, mildly. Neither of them noticed Guillermo stumbling out of the room, or that the human looked as if he’d been hit over the head with a crowbar.

He’s probably in love with you. In love with me? Nandor? No way. Laszlo’s just projecting. Not that I think Laszlo’s in love with me, I just think it’s absolutely impossible that Nandor is, is, is–

Guillermo turned a corner and nearly smacked into Nandor coming the other way.

“Guillermo, watch where you are going!”

“Sorry, I was…I was um…” Guillermo trailed off, staring numbly up at Nandor. At that face, the features so proud, but he’d seen softness there, passion and grief and kindness–

“Are you in love with me?”

There. He’d said it. Out loud. To Nandor’s face, which was now a mask of–fear?

“Nope,” Nandor said, and ran out of the room. Literally ran.

“Okay,” Guillermo said to no one in particular. “Cool. Glad we cleared that up.”

“If there had been any other way, my love, I would have done it,” Laszlo said. His hands were twined with Nadja’s. She sniffled as she gazed solefully into his eyes.

“You broke my heart, Laszlo.”

“I broke my own heart.”

“Oh, Laszlo–”

The door burst open and Nandor flew in.

“You told him!” Nandor shouted. A thin wail rose from the crib. Laszlo dropped Nadja’s hands and stomped away, muttering “fucking hell”.

“I did not! Laszlo suggested it, nobody said you were for sure!”

Nandor’s head snapped around to fix a glare on Laszlo.

“You.”

Nadja grabbed Nandor’s chin and forced him to look back at her.

“What happened?”

“Guillermo asked me if I was in love with him!” It was almost a wail of despair. “And not in a happy way! He looked horrified!”

“What did you say?”

“I said no!”

“Why?”

“If you two are going to shout, go do it somewhere else,” Laszlo said, fruitlessly rocking the screaming baby Colin Robinson.

“Shut up, Laszlo!”

“Not in the goddamn nursery, I won’t,” Laszlo said. “Out.”

Five minutes later, Nandor and Nadja were huddled behind a tree, peering out at Guillermo, who was busy digging a grave in the backyard.

“I’m not doing it,” Nandor whispered.

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I am not, because I know he is not in love with me.”

“Just because he doesn’t sit around sighing all day doesn’t mean he is not in love!”

“He is my bodyguard, Nadja,” Nandor reminded her, condescendingly. “I know him better than you. If Guillermo loved me, I would know it.”

“You would not know if Guillermo turned into a frog every other Tuesday,” Nadja said, scornfully.

“...does Guillermo turn into–” He stopped mid-sentence at the look of contempt Nadja gave him. “He doesn’t even do any in-love things.”

“He doesn’t do your in-love things.” She sighed. “Fine.”

They both straightened up.

“A-hem!” Nadja shouted, and shoved Nandor out from behind the tree just as Guillermo turned around. Nandor glared furiously at her, then panicked, realizing Guillermo was staring at him.

“Ah…hello, Guillermo.” Nandor glanced at Nadja, who made a shooing motion. Nandor hesitantly began to cross the lawn. “I would speak to you about something very important, please.”

Nadja smiled. She glanced up. Laszlo was standing in the nursery window, gazing down at her with much the same look Nandor had been giving Guillermo. It made her heart squeeze in her chest, cold and dead though it was. Leaving Nandor to his fate, she headed back into the house. She would head up to the nursery in a moment, but first she had some divorce papers to burn.

“What are you doing?”

Nandor was standing by the window again, staring down at Guillermo. The lights in the room were on, at least.

“I am watching Guillermo,” Nandor said. “He is very strong, did you ever notice?”

Nadja joined Nandor at the window. Guillermo was hauling a tarp-wrapped corpse across the lawn towards the fresh grave. It was a warm night, and Guillermo had ditched his ubiquitous sweaters and rolled up his sleeves. The muscles in his forearms stood out, the veins and tendons pressing against the thin skin of his inner wrist. Nandor bit his lower lip.

Guillermo dumped the body into the grave and wiped his forehead. He glanced up at the window and grinned, waving. Nandor waved back, twiddling his fingers.

“Isn’t he wonderful, Nadja?” Nandor said, dreamily.

And sighed.

#wwdits #what we do in the shadows #nandermo #nandor the relentless #guillermo de la cruz #nadja of antipaxos #laszlo cravensworth #nadja x laszlo #post season 3 #baby colin robinson #what we blog in the shadows #i had...so much fun with this

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rexx-lapis · 3 years

Text

His favorite little farmer// Bull!hybrid Shigaraki x Reader

-> You work as a care keeper in a farm specializing in caws and bulls hybrids. You love all of them but you just can’t help but caring a little bit more for your little Tomura, who in your eyes look so helpless. What you don’t know is that you’re not the only one having not so professional thoughts. So what happened when your favorite hybrid tells you he wants a mate.

Tags: Lot of smut and it’s intense. Bull hybrid Shigaraki. Mention of mating, of knotting. Anal, milking, prostate stimulation, use of toys, sub Shigaraki. Lot of cum. Dacryphylia. Jealous reader and possessive Tomura. Lot of fluff, they just love each other very much. Reader is gender neutral.

I’ve red @hanji-is-life post on bull Bakugou and Deku and I just got a huge brain rot :((

Shigaraki could spend hours just looking at you. From his stable, he loved watching you work, you were so pretty. You were working so hard in the farm, always carrying something and taking good care of the cows. He loved you so much, and that meant a lot because you were the only farm keeper that he allowed to get close to him. None of the others could approach him without getting nasty bites and all. Every bull had their favorite keeper. Bakugou, Kirishima and even Midoriya had their favorite but in the end they all took turn to take care of the bulls. But not you. You were his one and only. No one was mad at him for that, not even you. They all understood. He wasn’t like the others, as he arrived in the farm in a pitiful shape. He was deadly skinny, hurt, and traumatized, unable to let a human near him. Mistreatments towards hybrid were current even more in farms. But farms like he was right now was the proof that it was possible to met good people. You had been the one to take care of him when he arrived, you fed him, washed him, made sure he wasn’t cold. You even slept in the stale next to him to make sure he was okay during the night. Slowly he had warm up to you, as he was becoming a bit more healthy every day. He was still not the biggest bull of the farm but he looked so much better. All because you took care of him. And you were so understanding, taking his defense and never pressuring him into having interaction with others. The only person he needed was you anyway.

“Hi Tomu, how are you today?

-I’m fine... And you?

-I am doing great! The weather is perfect today!”

He smiled slightly, so happy you were here with him.

“Do you want to go outside for a bit? I’ll clean your stable as you go outside.

-Can’t I just stay here with you?

-Tomu, you need to go outside a bit.”

But he really wanted to stay with you. He knew you needed space to work and that he’ll be able to see you soon but he couldn’t help it.

“If you’re nice after you’re time outside I’ll groom you!”

He finally nodded, excited to come back so you can take care of him. You lead him to the outside field, choosing one that was empty, knowing he preferred to be alone. You waved at him goodbye, your hand brushing his shoulder. His ears fluttered and he blushed slightly. He watched you go back inside, noticing how your hips sway from right to left. He couldn’t take his eyes away from your ass until you disappeared behind a wall.

“So you gonna do something about that little farmer or?”

He turned around seeing Bakugou, Midoriya, and Kirishima, in the field next to his. He looked at the wood barrier that separated them from him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.

-Oh so she isn’t yours? You’re not interested?

-I didn’t say that”, he said firmly.

Of course you were his.

“Bakugou is right Shigaraki, look it worked out for us! I have no idea how, but somehow it worked out.

-It’s literally so easy for you, she is basically caring about you all the time.

Yeah! She is your personal keeper!”

He couldn’t deny the fact that he wanted you. So bad it sometimes kept him awake at night. Even more when he was seeing how the others all had their little mate for themselves. He was even more jealous when the rut season was coming in and that they all had their personal keeper to take care of it. That was maybe because they all were part of the breeder program. Maybe if he agreed to it, you would let him breed you. Just thinking about made him excited.

“You know how some of us had to battled to get them to let us claim them like that. Bakugou literally had to fight.

-Hey!

-It’s true, they had to put you in an isolated stable just because of it.

-He was in time out. Just like a little kid.

Do you want to die?”

Shigaraki stopped listening. But they were right. He needed to act up.

“Oi Tomu! Ready to go back ?” He turned toward your voice, to see you wave at him. He ran toward you, ready to go back.

“Guys, do y’all want to go back inside ?

-No thanks Y/n!

-Ok, be nice then”

You walked in front of him, and he realized how much you were swinging your hips. Maybe he was just noticing it now? Or maybe you were doing it on purpose? What if you were gonna go into heat soon?! No, humans did not have heat. Not that he knew about. He came back to a clean stable, a lot of food, and he even saw a few treats that were not supposed to be here.

“Shhh, don’t say anything. I don’t need to be accused of doing favoritism.”

He chuckled, getting ready for the grooming session. He couldn’t wait. And god he did not regret anything. Your gentle fingers were playing in his fur, detangling everything, you even braided the hair on his head , taking them away from his face. It felt so good. You applied the cream he needed for his skin condition around his eyes, smiling proudly. Your dropped to your knees in front of him suddenly, your face inches of his crotch. You were just checking his hooves, but fuck, he could feel himself get hard. It didn’t help that you started touching his thighs, squeezing them amazed.

“You become so strong Tomu, look at you”

Yeah he had become strong, for you, so you could be proud of him and proud to be his mate.

“Y/n?

-Yes?

-I would like to become a breeder.”

You stopped your movement, staying silent.

“Y/n?

-Y-eah sorry. Hm of course you can. It’s normal. You need a mate after all.”

Ah. There has been a misunderstanding.

“I have to go. I’ll let you know when we’ll start the program okay?”

You almost ran out of the stable, leaving him alone and sad. Fuck, why didn’t he simply told you he needed you. He didn’t need a mate, he needed you to be his mate. He felt like breaking the door and running after you. Maybe he should have followed Bakugou’s method and just tell you right up that he needed to knot you. No definitely no... He really hoped he didn’t made you sad, or that you were mad at him. It would kill him.

Your heart was clenching in your chest. What was even that pain? Why did you felt like someone had stabbed you. It was stupid, you knew that day would come. It was selfish of you to react like this. It was in his nature, he needed a mate. You already had blocked him enough. You still cried under the shower this same night. The next day you found yourself talking with your colleagues about it. Most of the bull who were used for reproduction, didn’t have any contacts with the cows. They often were violent and cows were too precious for this. But the softer ones had the chance to chose a mate and actually have a physical relationship with them. That would probably be the case for Shigaraki you thought. You needed to ask him what he thought of it. You arrived at his stable, surprised not to see him look at you. He was always up at this hour normally. You called his name, but he didn’t answer. Worried you opened his stable, just to find him laying down on the hay.

“Tomura is everything okay?”

You looked around, noticing he had not eat any of the thing you had gave him yesterday. Worried you kneeled next to him, touching his shoulder gently. He did not react, but you still heated a little noise. A sob.

“Tomu, love, tell me what’s wrong, please I’m so worried...”

He turned around a bit and you could see he had cried, his pretty red eyes puffy. You even noticed how his neck and under eyes seemed to be red, like he scratched it.

“I’m sorry Y/n. I made you sad.

-No, Tomu, you didn’t. What are you talking about.

-Yesterday. You left upset with me. I hate it. I can’t live with you being upset.

-I was not upset baby. It’s all my fault. I was selfish by reacting like this. But it’s totally normal to want a mate. Tomu, baby, you don’t have to care about me.

-But I don’t want a cow, I want you.

-What?”

He sat down, looking at you in the eyes.

“If I told you I wanted to be a part of the program it just because I wanted you to help me. Like the others are doing. I don’t want to breed anyone. Just you.”

Your heart was going to explode. He wanted you, you thought. You heart was swelling from happiness.

“Y/n, don’t cry please” he cried out panicking.

“No baby it’s fine. I’m just happy. Fuck, I would love to help you.”

He took you in his arms, almost tackling you to the ground. All you could hear was little “don’t cry” coming from him.

You ended up leaving him alone, as you still made sure he was eating correctly. He suddenly seemed way more relaxed, even though you could see a deep blush on his cheeks. His little ears were fluttering and his tail was moving from right to left excitedly. You busied yourself all day, not seeing Shigaraki much. Bakugo and Midoriya had break into a fight and you and an other helper had to take them away from each other. Midoriya told you that his rut was going to come soon and that he couldn’t stand when Bakugou came too close from one of your colleagues. The worst was that Bakugou had no interest in them, he had his own favorite keeper, he just liked to mess with Deku. You decided that those two won’t be having any contacts until their rut had passed. You reassured Deku that his s/o was fine and that they’ll come see him soon. You put him in a stable far away from the others, where he would be in a calm environment. You finally finished your day way later than usual. You were exhausted and felt like you needed a thousand showers. But you still decided to go and see how Shigaraki was doing before going to sleep. When you arrived he was already looking for you, his eyes shining as he saw you getting closer.

“Oi Y/n! You look tired .... What happened

- We had to separate Midoriya and Bakugou earlier, they are going into rut. So I had a lot of work. It was a long day.”

You saw him look at you with more attention, his eyebrows knitted tightly. He looked a bit mad when he approached his head from you, his little nose pressed against your neck, you jolt in surprise when you felt the metal of his septum piercing against your neck.

“You smell like him....

-Like who?

-Deku...

-Well I worked with him so...

-I don’t like it. Normally you smell more like me...”

He never acted territorial toward you before. Maybe it was because of your new arrangement. You would need to talk to him about it, even if you new it was probably useless. None of the other bulls had been reasonable till now. You doubted he would be an exception. You finally left him, promising him to take a shower as soon as you were home and to come back the day after smelling all clean. You’ve never been that happy to leave in the house near the farm. A bunch of other keepers had decided to leave here together as it was cheaper and so close from work. You took a shower like promised and ate something before going to bed. Before going to sleep, you decided to do a bit of research. You knew how breeding worked. You had to supervise the thing a few time which had mortified you at first. Now you learned how to get detached and let the hybrids do their things while you were working somewhere else. But the “milking” part of the process kinda made you worried. You never had that much intimacy with an hybrid. You knew some of your colleagues had and that they even went further than just the milking. There was nothing wrong with that. It was actually pretty common between hybrids and humans. But you were a shy person, in that area at least. Thinking about just touching Shigaraki like that made a wave of arousal travel through your body. You didn’t know if you were supposed to feel like this. Maybe he wasn’t asking for this. He just wanted you to do this as a professional. And you were here, thinking about it as if you were talking about your boyfriend. After re reading the method a few time, the last thing you wanted was to hurt him in some way, you went to sleep, head full of a certain hybrid.

Shigaraki slept way better than the night before, but he was still annoyed about the smell situation. Maybe he should start senting you. After all you were his. He knew he was starting to get into his rut too. Soon every bull around here would be in the same situation. It was spring so it was expected. But this time he would spend it with you and fuck he couldn’t help but be happy about it. He woke a bit early so he would clean his stable, he didn’t want to make it look messy for when you’ll come. He knew it was ridiculous but he couldn’t help it. He even cleaned himself, making sure nothing was caught in his fur. He felt suddenly so hot, he couldn’t wait for you to come. Maybe it was the general tension in the air. Knowing that there was other bull in rut around here. It made him crazy. Why couldn’t you just hurry? Maybe you weren’t even gonna do anything today. What if he got his hopes up and you weren’t planning on doing anything today? He looked at how hard he was becoming, kinda embarrassed.

“Hey Tomu!”

He jumped at the sound of your voice. You looked so pretty today. You looked pretty every day but he couldn’t point his finger on what made you look so beautiful today. Maybe it was the way you styled your hair, the makeup you wore when you usually didn’t.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you. Didn’t you hear me come your way?” You chuckled.

He had to have you, he thought.

“So Tomu, I wanted to ask you when you wanted to start the breeding program. Bakugou and Midoriya are already in rut, normally yours start soon after, doesn’t it?

-It’s starting I think...”

His voice was quiet and you could see the blush on his cheeks and how he seemed more tense than usual.

“Oh okay... I’m gonna take your temperature and I’ll see from there.”

You placed the little tube on his tongue, waiting a minute before looking back. Yeah he was definitely entering his rut.

“ Ok Tomu, I’m gonna get ready and I’ll be back. We should wait till you’re completely in heat to start. Do you need me to explain how the procedure work?”

You were speaking so much words and he wasn’t even listening to them. He could only concentrate on your face, watching your lips move. He took a deep breath and he could smell you. So strong. You smelled so good.

“Don’t leave now, fuck, I need you”

You seemed conflicted for a bit.

“Ok I’ll be back in a minute, I swear it’ll be quick but I need to get something”

You didn’t let him answer as you were already leaving. He was gonna die if you didn’t come back quickly. None of his rut had been that hard on him before. It generally was longer than it was intense and it took a all day to settle down. But today his entire body was on fire and he was already so hard. You ran as fast as you could toward the office. You had let everything you needed there. You never grabbed a bag so fast, the other hybrids were looking at you weirdly when they saw you running through the farm. You came back to Tomura’s stable finding him on his knees, his cock in his hand .

“Y/n... fuck please”

He looked so gorgeous. His cock was an angry red, leaking precum like crazy. You dropped to your knees, next to him trying to comfort him a bit. You needed to get him in position so you could prep him, but he didn’t look like he wanted to move. He couldn’t stop pumping his length, not being able to cum.

“Ok I need you to get on your knees baby, you can do this for me?”

He whined but still did what you told him. He was arching his back, his cute little ears were flat against his hair. His tail was swiping in the air almost hitting you. You took the bottle of lube, squirting some on your gloved hands. He was too far gone to see anything at this point but you still wanted him to know what was going to happen. You lubbed the the upper part of what looked like a suction cup, making sure the milking tool won’t hurt him. You touch his shoulder making him look at you. You almost moan when you saw his red cheeks, teary eyes, drool almost dripping out of his mouth.

“I’m gonna put this on you baby, are you ready?

-No I want you. Not that please Y/n!

-This first, I promise I’m gonna touch you, I’ll make you feel really good.”

He didn’t say anything, you were already grabbing him in your hand. He was so heavy, throbbing against your palm. Fuck he would feel so good inside you. You stroked him a few times not being able to resist seeing him cry and buck his hips in your hand. You placed the lubbed part against his tip, his eyes falling on your hand.

“What is it?” He asked his voice quiet.

“It will help you... stay stimulated...It’s the same process we used for the cows”

It indeed looked the devices that were used to milk the cows. You pushed it down his length, watching it get swallowed. You watched Tomura, watching his eyes rolled in his head, tongue out of his mouth. Fuck you wish that was you. You wish you were the one making him feel this good.

“Ok baby, now I’m gonna touch you ok?

-Yes more !”

He threw his ass in the air, his hooves hitting the ground hard. You touched his fur, silky against your palm. Your hand caress the curve of his ass, gently spreading his cheeks.

“Y/n!

-Yes?

-W- why are you touching me there?

He didn’t had the time to answer before you push one finger inside. He gasped, throwing his head back.

« Y/n ! F-fuck »

You forgot everything when you saw him starting to rock his hips,your finger getting deeper inside him. You slowly put another finger in, his flesh already so tender you did not met any resistance. You crooked you fingers inside, your finger tips digging into his flesh’ hitting his sweet spot hard. He screamed, arching his back cumming so hard it made his entire body shake. He kept cumming as you didn’t stop moving your fingers.

« More! Please more! »

You added a new finger, the third one stretching him wide.

« Fuck, Tomura, you came so hard you’re so good. Your little hole is swallowing my fingers »

He moaned, clenching more and you looked at the tube seeing more and more cum dripping inside.

« I’m gonna milk you hard love, you’re so pretty like this fuck »

The words were just coming out of your mouth shamelessly at this point. You knew it was not professional, but you couldn’t help it. He was driving you crazy, his pretty face was flushed, his eyes full of tears, lips bitten red and all wet with drool.

« I can’t stop! It feels too good, can’t stop- »

His voice was broken, and he was trusting his hips, making harder and harder for you to hold him down.

« I want to be inside you, please Y/n! Please! I want to cum inside- »

You wanted that to, so bad, but you knew you couldn’t right now.

« A little more love »

He was shaking from all his limbs. Your fingers started to get tired from all this, but with a final twist of your wrist, you pressed three fingers hard against his flesh, making him collapsed from pleasure.

« Too much, it hurts, please »

He was shaking on the ground, his eyes rolling in the back of his head. You stopped the movement with your fingers. You let him go of the equipment, finally freeing his cock. You looked at the machine, impressed by the amount of cum.

« Tomu are you okay? »

He nodded slowly, smiling as he felt your hand on his hair.

“It still feels good...

-I didn’t hurt you right?

-No...”

You took him in you arms, laying in the hay with him, murmuring in his ear how much you loved him. He looked so vulnerable right now, but here he was, his face pressed against your chest, breathing calmly. You kissed the top of his head, smiling as well.

“I love you, my mate” he said, pressing his lips against his neck.

“I love you too.”

You looked down at him, seeing his eyes closed, his breathing study. You needed to take the material back and to start cleaning, but you felt so good right now. Maybe it could wait a little bit more.

#bnha #mha fanfiction #mha smut #mha imagines #my hero academia #shigaraki headcanons #mha shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki x y/n #shigaraki x you #shigaraki imagine #shigaraki fluff #shigaraki fanfiction #shigaraki smut

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strawberrylemonz · 3 years

Text

Fateful Night

Grian never forgot his original home, his original family. He didn’t remember the adoption of him and his brothers, but he remembered time after that. His father, King Philza Minecraft, was kind and firm to his sons and his kingdom. He remembered Wilbur’s love of all things musical, how he preferred words over a blade. He recalled his days training alongside Techno in the courtyard, both laughing as they beat their opponents together. He remembered his bedroom in the right wing of the castle, in between Technoblade and Wilbur’s. He remembered his crown and his cape, how he would proudly wear them during celebrations and balls.

But those days were over, he had to remind himself to move on. SMP Earth’s portal had been out of commission for years now, and no one knew why. Signs that the server still existed were found, but no one could piece together the pieces to find the issue with the server. No one could make contact with anyone stuck inside the server, and no one inside could get out. Grian couldn’t get back to his former home, he couldn’t get back to his family. In a way, that makes things easier to live somewhere else. He had disappeared from SMP Earth as a young child, much too young. Now, as a grown man, no one knew of his royal status. He didn’t push to hide his status from his new friends and family, but his situation wasn’t exactly anything that anyone could easily bring up into a conversation. Instead of trying to find a way to tell people, he just found it easier to not acknowledge at all.

He still can’t help but wonder, to question. He still didn’t understand how he was taken away from his room, his palace. He did question some of the competitors in MCC, how they seemed so familiar yet so different. He did wonder whatever became of his baby brother. He remembers many names for the child, but his brain couldn’t pinpoint what name was chosen in the end. It had been so long ago when the child was adopted that his brain couldn’t mush together his name. But he still remembered his eyes, how they shone with curiosity. He still recalls the night that he and his brother’s met the young babe for the very first time.

----------

The winter was colder than usual that year, too cold. Techno and Grian were walking beside Wilbur, taking sips of hot cocoa as Wilbur rambled about his newfound hatred of anteaters. Classes had ended hours before, and they were trying to their best to pass the time until dinner was prepared. They would have usually spent this time with their father, all talking about their day as they sat in the king’s study. Unfortunately, for the princes, this tradition was broken that night. Their father had left after lunch to conduct his weekly visit to the cities and towns that fell under the kingdom’s protection. Unlike the previous visits, however, he had not returned yet. Visits usually lasted a few hours, but tonight was different. It had been six hours since lunch, and he was still gone. As much as they wanted to panic, the triplets knew that things would be okay. This was their father, after all, nothing could scare or harm him.

Grian waved at the night guards as he and his brothers entered the courtyard. They made it halfway when they heard the familiar sound of wings flapping. Turning around, they greeted their father as he landed in front of them. They were stunned, however, why their father hastily nodded to them, before rushing away without a single word. The boys watched in confusion as he curled his wings over himself, as if to shield something in his arms. Although his face appeared to stay neutral and calm, the triplets knew better. Their father was afraid, they could tell by the way he held himself. After exchanging glances with each other, they rushed to follow him, their hot cocoa long forgotten. They followed in worry, listening as Phil barked orders in an unfamiliar, stern voice. They watched as servants ran off, gathering all the nurses and doctors they could find. Phil kicked his bedroom door open, causing the triplets to jump back in surprise. When they regained their composure, they rushed forward to see what their father was shielding. Or, in this case, who he was shielding. The three princes froze in their spots as their father unraveled his wings, revealing an infant babe, bundled in a tattered and burnt blanket. They made their way to step inside the room, but were quickly ushered aside by nurses, who closed the door before them.

“Was that a baby?”

“New sibling, pog.”

“What do you think their name is?”

“I bet it’s a boy!”

“Nuh uh, it’s a girl!”

“Guys, they’re a baby, not an it.”

“I bet I’ll be the favorite brother.”

“No way!”

The triplets sprung into action, ready to greet their new sibling. Rushing back to their rooms, they all quickly worked to make themselves presentable for the welcoming. Dawning their softest sweaters, they each exited their rooms to return to their father. Wilbur adjusted his beanie, Techno his crown, as Grian adjusted the grip on his stuffed cow. All sharing a satisfied smile, they made their way to their father’s room. As they walked down the hall, they took note of the sorrowful expressions of the nurses and doctors who were walking in the opposite direction. When they finally reached the door to the room, they were greeted by a familiar witch doctor. The man smiled down at the young princes, tipping his hat to them as he walked away. When they entered the bedroom, they saw their father sitting on the bed, his back turned to them. As they moved towards him, they were greeted by him, his voice soft.

“Boys, you should be at the dinner table by now.”

“Is that our new sibling?”

Wilbur played with his fingers as he watched his father’s movements, Techno and Grian following their brother’s actions. Phil finally turned to face the three boys, who all faltered at his tired eyes. Giving his sons a tired smile, Phil beckoned the three boys over to him. Slowly approaching the bed, they saw the infant lay on the comforter, his small hands balled into a fist and clinging to his blanket. They watched as he took ragged breaths, his chest rising and falling in uneven patterns. Techno was the first to speak up.

“Is it okay?”

“Techno, don’t be rude!”

“Heh?”

Phil lightly chuckled as he returned his gaze from his sons to the small infant, who was sprawled upon the bed, his breathing becoming shakier as the seconds passed. The triplets frowned as the sadness returned to Phil’s eyes, his voice getting quiet.

“I found a village outside of our kingdom’s borders. It had been burned and destroyed by pillagers. I searched the village many times, but he was the sole survivor. I found him, bundled up, laying in the snow. He wasn’t moving or responding, but he was breathing. That was enough to get me to rush him back here.”

Grian tore his eyes away from his father, deciding to look at the sleeping child. The boy was cute, Grian will admit, but he did look sickly. Wiping some of the sweat off the infant’s forehead, he asked the question that plagued his mind.

“Will he be okay?”

His father and brothers turned to face him, watching as he combed the baby’s hair to the side. Techno and Wilbur quieted down as they faced their father. Phil sighed as he watched the tenderness in Grian’s actions. Closing his eyes, Phil spoke up.

“The regular doctors said there wasn’t anything they could do for him. The nurses said that only a miracle could pick him up from death’s door.”

The triplets felt colder than they have ever felt. They had just got their new baby brother, and now they were losing him. They had to say goodbye before they could say hello. It just wasn’t fair-

“However,”

Three small heads quickly returned their gazes to that of their father’s.

“The last doctor, an old friend of mine, managed to contact the stars. A goddess, Clara, had apparently responded without hesitation. She happily agreed to revive the child and give him her protection.”

The three couldn’t bring themselves to make a witty remark to their father. Magic was real, this was true. Totems of undying were real, this they knew. But as much as they loved listening and reading the stories, the three could not bring themselves to believe that the gods would care for an unknown babe. Complete nonsense, if you asked them. For all they knew, their father was just trying to keep their spirits up, so he most likely crafted a story so that the boys wouldn’t panic when the magic occurred. As they all turned their attention to the sickly baby, they noticed that he stopped breathing. There was silence as the four waited, watching. Wilbur couldn’t stop the watering of his eyes as he latched onto Techno, who was stiff as a board. Phil just closed his eyes, appearing to be praying to whatever entity was listening in, watching the panicked family. Grian, blinded by his own tears, watched over the infant. He let out a shuddering gasp as he held onto the child’s stiff hand with his own. Suddenly, the feeling of warm hands passing through him caused his eyes to widen in shock, the stuffed cow in his arms being pulled closer to his chest. The warmth left as quickly as it came, but that wasn’t what kept him silent. There, laying on the bed, was the baby, breathing normally. Leaning over to get a better look at him, he noticed the warmer tone in the baby’s skin. He took note of the small freckles that began to fade into view, seemingly to mimic small stars. Clutching the cow, Grian prepared to call his family over, only to be stopped by the child furrowing his eyebrows. With a quiet yawn, the baby slowly blinked his eyes open. Grian felt his throat tightened as beautiful, big blue eyes stared into his. Grian couldn’t help but notice how the child’s eyes were as of the sea and the stars conjoined into one. Suddenly, the child switched his gaze down to the stuffed cow in Grian’s arms. Eyes widening with excitement, the baby wiggled his arms free and reached for the toy, squealing in delight.

It was then that Grian knew that he fell in love.

----------

Grian always thought of his family, every day. He had found a new family with Hermitcraft, with its people and with his makeshift children. He was grateful for the family he had now, but he couldn’t help but miss the one he once had.

“Grian! Are you almost ready?”

Shaking his head, Grian called back to Mumbo, who was outside of the room. Reassuring Mumbo that he would meet him at the gates, he smiled as he finished getting ready. As he adjusted his shirt, Grian couldn’t help but feel giddy for tonight. How could he not? It was a special night on the server, after all. One of their youngest members, Tommy, had something grand planned for everyone to see. Tommy was a unique and unusual case for all the hermits. He had appeared two years prior, broken and dull. With nothing but a few personal items, he was nothing but a broken shell of what he used to be. The hermits worked hard to get him to where he was today, to help him heal. They still didn’t know his past pain, but they didn’t push him to reveal anything he didn’t want to. It took a while, but the boy eventually trusted them enough to settle down and make a home there with them. Now, they were ready to see his biggest project on the server. Months prior, Tommy had requested a big area to build an amusement park. He explained that it would be a fun and safe place, and that it was the gate for him to open up about his past to them. He brightened up as the hermits all voiced their encouragement and approval. He insisted on completing the project all by himself, and he did. As soon as it was complete, he sent out invitations to all the hermits for a private opening night. The invitations were dated for tonight. Humming to himself, he peeked into a spare room, satisfied to see Jrumbot and Grumbot asleep for the night. Grabbing his coat, Grian gave his reflection a nod as he left the house, on his way to meet the rest of the server.

----------

Tommy was almost jumping with joy as his friends arrived at the gates, each dressed in casual formal attire. His eyes scanned the crowd, pride blooming in his chest as he took note of everyone who arrived. When he saw Grian, he couldn’t help but cheer alongside his chat. Once he saw that everyone had arrived, he cleared his throat and spoke up.

“Fellas! Can I get a humina?”

Laughter bubbled in his throat as the hermits chanted without hesitation. Joy filled him as he cheered alongside them.

“That’s what I’m talking about!”

Taking a deep breath, Tommy nodded to himself with a smile as joy filled his tone. Quickly thinking over the few points in his speech that he wanted to voice, he happily spoke up.

“Thank you for coming, I mean it. Believe it or not, it took me forever to convince myself to send the invites. I’m glad I did, and I’m glad you all came. It means so much to me that you guys care so much. I hope to repay the kindness to the fullest. For now, however, I’ll give you guys a park and a backstory. Y’know, because I’m cool and shit. I’m like Spider-Man, tragic backstory and all that shit. Mentor tally is through the roof, heh.”

The hermits laughed and cheered at the young man, who glowed with pride before them. They had watched him pick himself up from the brink of death, watched as his dull eyes brightened with love and joy. Ender, they all loved this young hermit.

“Okay, enough stalling. I, TommyInnit, proudly present-”

Affectionate snickers filled the air as Tommy mimicked a drumroll.

“Innit an Adventure!!!”

Cheers erupted from everyone as the sign was revealed, and the gates unlocked. With a giddy bow, Tommy let them enter the newest star attraction of the server. Stress and Impulse doubled up, snatching Doc while they were at it. Grian smiled at Mumbo, who joined his side in the front of the crowd. The two nodded a greeting to Xisuma, who nodded back as Tommy began to show them the map, explaining the different areas of the park, as well as how he would conduct the tour, leaving his tragic hero backstory for the end, when they reached the campfire. After the basic points of the tour for opening night were completed, they all went on their merry way.

Their first stop was the center entrance of the park, dubbed “Tavern Town”. Living up to its name, there were two large taverns, both surrounded by shops and booth games of all kinds. As Tommy explained the way the lodging system would work in the different areas of the park, everyone took note of how much Tommy’s building skills had improved since his initial arrival, something they all felt pride in. He had truly grown so much since he first stumbled in, scared and confused. Once the excited teen finished going over the points for the area, everyone was free to explore the area. Grian opted to ruffle the teen’s hair, praising him for his work so far.

“What the fuck, Big G? Watch the hair, bastard. You know my badass locks take time, bruv.”

“Oh, shut your mouth, princess. I’ll mess with your hair if I feel like it.”

Grian could feel a few affectionate glares directed at the two, but he and Tommy could only smile at each other. Just as he was going to continue showering the younger boy with affection, Mumbo called him over. Tommy smiled as he followed in suit, not quite ready to leave the older man just yet. Soon enough they approached Mumbo, who happily dragged them to a door in the mountain that everyone seemed to be entering, interested. Grian glanced at the lit up sign that addressed the building.

The Cavern of Memories

Determined to face his past, Tommy put up a determined face and followed everyone in.

It was beautiful. There were rows upon rows with sections that represented different servers. Each small section represented a person. Everyone explored the various bonds their favorite bandit obtained during his life so far. The saw the elegant and aesthetically pleasing section of Eret, a strawberry dress neatly sewn by hand with a bi flag hanging above it. Flowers surrounded the stand, and the lighting made it beautiful. A crown and a pair of sunglasses sat elegantly by the stand. They murmured in awe at the different people from different worlds. Niki, Puffy, Schlatt, Dream, Karl, Quackity, Sapnap, BBH, Skeppy. They snickered as they stared with adoration at the sections for a Lani and Drista, which were made to be elegant, dainty, and full of chaos. They never prepared to see so much bedrock and forks in one section, with bee plushies and butter knives in the other. They studied the section created for Tubbo, who, according to the sign, was still Tommy’s best friend.

The group grew excited as they entered the rows for the hermits, dispersing and happily gawking over their personal sections. They couldn’t help but let the happiness swell within them as they saw the sections made especially for them. They appreciated everything in the sections, each item carefully crafted and picked for them.

Mumbo laughed as he pulled Grian over to the sections for Grumbot and Jrumbot. As Mumbo voiced his interest with the detail, Grian’s eyes wandered to an unexplored set of rows. Well, the entrance to it, at least. Furrowing his eyebrows, he headed over to it, curious. Tommy took notice and decided to follow, wanting Grian’s feedback the most. Little by little, everyone began to follow Grian and Tommy into the last section. As Grian stood at the entrance, he peered over to read the sign that stated the server these rows represented. He felt a sharp intake on his part as he read it over and over again, trying to make sure he was reading correctly.

‘SMP EARTH’

Letting out a breath, he entered, Tommy and Mumbo by his side. As he studied the sections and it’s layout, he knew where he was. This first part was obviously Business Bay. Perhaps Tommy was from there? Perhaps Tommy came from the same server he did.

Maybe Tommy knew a way back home.

“The Antarctic Empire? You really are social, Tommy.”

Grian’s eyes widened as he quickly looked over to Doc, who was reading the sign of the next part of the sections. Desperate to see what Tommy knew, he hurried over in unusual silence. The rest of the group quietly followed, worried for Grian’s sudden shift.

He froze.

He couldn’t believe his eyes.

How did Tommy even get all this?

Ignoring the worried voices behind him, Grian made his way to the largest section, and the last one. There, sitting elegantly upon the wall, was a family portrait. Phil lovingly smiled as his wings spread proudly behind him, his arms open and slightly extended. To Phil’s right was Grian’s eldest brother, Technoblade. He sat with a sharp yet, somehow, kind gaze. To Phil’s left was the second eldest, Wilbur. He smiled brightly, his eyes barely visible behind the grin. And there, in the center of the two, sat Grian. He smiled slightly, eyes filled with joy and love. In his arms, was his brand new baby brother, who stared curiously at who had to be the painter.

The royal Antarctic Empire outfits were on display, the crown of each respective member set on display beside each outfit. Many items were hung with sorrowful pride. Elytra there, a guitar in the corner, piano against the wall. Weapons of all kinds hung in an organized manner. Emeralds decorated the empty space. Grian felt his chest hurt as he choked on his words. He wasn’t even aware he was being addressed until two hands firmly grabbed his arms, and a face appeared.

“-kay, big man? What wrong?”

Tommy’s worried gaze trapped Grian in uncertainty. Finally able to form words, Grian’s broken voice filled the silence.

“How…How did you know them?”

Tommy blinked a few times, before turning around to face the display. They didn’t need to see his face to see the sorrow in the teen. Sighing, Tommy pointed at the baby in the portrait.

“See that lil’ man right there? That’s me, as a baby. Apparently I was found by the King, Philza Minecraft. He’s my adoptive dad. Then there’s my oldest brother, Technoblade-”

God, everyone could see how he tensed upon saying the name of his brother.

“-Then there's Wilbur. He practically raised me-”

Once again, his body language told the story. The way he slouched in defeat gave off warning alarms.

“-Then there’s my last older brother. I actually can’t remember his name, he went missing while I was still so small. I do remember some things from him, he gave me a cow on my first day. He’s also great at playing games, very pog. He’s actually the first face I saw when I arrived. You see, I was found in the snow of the ruins of what was once my village. I was dying, but then a witch doctor came and spoke to a goddess in the sky who agreed to revive me and shelter me. I still talk to her, whenever I get the chance. She’s guided me through a lot, she’s great. Her name is-”

“Clara.”

Tommy froze as he turned around, facing the owner of the voice. Grian just stared at him, desperation and hope in his eyes. Tommy stared in confusion as Grian approached him. Furrowing his eyebrows, Grian peered into the teen’s eyes. They stayed blue for a moment, but only a moment. Suddenly, Tommy seemed to have burst to life. Constellations painted his face, wonderful and beautiful as they are. They were Tommy’s one-of-a-kind and unique freckles, crafted specifically for him. And in his eyes? The stars and the sea danced together once more. Suddenly, Grian was wearing his best sweater in his father’s room once again, a cow hugged to his chest.

And then, he broke.

Tears escaped his eyes and he let out a strangled sob, throwing his arms around the younger boy, pulling him into a hug. Tommy let out a startled yelp as his friend engulfed him into a tight and gently embrace, sobbing into Tommy’s shoulder. Tommy had no idea what was happening. Why would Grian be so entranced by SMP Earth? Why would he care about Tommy’s relations to his family? Why did he know about Clara-

Wait-

Oh.

Hol y sH I T

Pulling away, not quite believing what his mind put together, Tommy peered at the mess that was Grian. He looked, truly looked at his features. He still wasn’t sure, he didn’t want to hope. He didn’t want to hurt again. But as soon as Tommy peered into Grian’s eyes, he knew. There was no denying it. He knew those eyes. He’d never forget those eyes. They were the same, loving eyes that welcomed him into his new life.

“What the fuck, man.”

Mans before anyone could half-heartedly tell him off for his language, Tommy broke as well. The floodgates were let loose, and Tommy was the gatekeeper who allowed them to be free. Big blobs of tears fell off the boy’s face as he shoved his face into Grian’s chest. Grian, in turn, held onto Tommy as if he would disappear. The two crumbled to the floor, Grian rocking his baby brother in his arms once more, whispering soothing words to him. The rest of the group watched, and their very own hearts seemed to have burst alongside their two friends once they heard the next words.

“I’ve missed you, big bro.”

“I’ve got you, shooting star. I’m not letting you go, not again.”

All the hermits knew right then and there that the rest of the night would be filled with nothing but happiness and love.

They knew that the two finally found their home.

--------------------

This series has been inspired by @petrichormeraki (my beloved, dearest enemy of a blog)

@petrichormeraki has also made art based on this chapter! So has @sydneys-sketches !

New Brother Pog - @petrichormeraki

The Royal Family of the Antarctic Empire - @petrichormeraki

Grian finds the portrait - @sydneys-sketches

Part 1 [CURRENT]

Part 2

#hermit!tommy au #Grian Wilbur and Techno are triplets au #THEY ARE BROS YOUR HONOR #Tommy is their Starchild #Grian is an Antarctic Prince #brb sobbing at my own creation #like wtf strawberry #Tommy’s amusement park tho #Innit an Adventure?#indeed it is lmao #play on words get it?#okay I’ll stop lolol #Memories in the stars au

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sharkbait77 · 3 years

Text

Sweet Honey (Jack "Whiskey" Daniels x f!Reader)

Rating: M

Warnings: Mention of food, pregnancy, quick mention of seggsy times, mentions of Jack’s past (which involves feelings of anger & sadness), fluffy goodness overall, soft husband!Jack, prepare for your heart to clench

W/C: 1.4k (the exact number omg I'm shooketh that it happened)

A/N: I have no idea where this came from, suddenly I heard Jack’s voice in my head & I had to get it down 😅 just a quick something because I guess I’m into this writing stuff a little more than I used to be now 🥺 I was gonna post this next week, but I couldn't wait 😅 And yes, Jack calls you every single endearment in the book & no I won’t change my mind. I love this damn cowboy 🥵

More tags! Love y'all, thank you for letting me throw my stuff your way ♥️ Again, lmk if you don't want to be tagged ♥️

@hnt-escape @sarahjkl82-blog @barbossa2319 @ezrasbirdie @honeymandos @pascalpanic @foli-vora @lucrezia-thoughts @day-off-inkyoto @danniburgh @pedrocentric @asta-lily @astoryisaloveaffair @djarinsbeskar @the-ginger-hedge-witch @meesterblack @quica-quica-quica

“Hiya sweetheart,” Jack’s booming Southern drawl fills the atmosphere as he steps through the door.

“Hi sweetie,” you say from the kitchen, lips turning up into a smile as you hear your husband removing his boots and padding his way to you.

“Now, isn’t that just the most exquisite sight any man would dream of comin’ home to? And it’s all for me,” he beams when he comes around the corner to see you cutting some vegetables. You look over your shoulder at him cutely, grinning at his lit up face.

“Oh, you like 'em? Mrs. Porter said her garden is overflowing this season; she was kind enough to bring some over earlier,” you smirk, gesturing to the sunflowers in the intricate vase sitting on the counter. You know what he really meant, but you just like to tease him when the opportunity presents itself.

“Now sugar,” Jack chuckles and steps closer to you. “You know I ain’t talkin’ about no damn flowers,” he wraps his arms around your shoulders. “They don’t hold a candle to your grace, hon.”

“Oh Jack,” you giggle, officially swooning at your husband’s sentiments and you set the knife down to caress his arm resting across your chest. “I feel like a heifer. I belong out in those fields with Bertha and Winifred,” you jest, watching your pair of cows grazing through the window, just outside on your shared patch of land.

“I’m sure those lovely ladies wouldn’t mind sharin’ their bed ’n hay,” he jokes back and you gasp, slapping his arm playfully and he laughs, a deep rumble vibrating against your back. He likes to tease you, too.

“You know you’re the most gorgeous creature to set foot on this Earth, right?” He adds in a heartfelt tone. You squeeze his arm letting him know you feel the love.

“Jack baby, don’t forget it was written in our marriage vows that we would never lie to each other,” you giggle.

“And I am holdin’ true to that promise, honey bee,” he replies, his smile shining through his voice. “How’s my boy today, hm? Causin’ trouble?” He kisses the side of your head as he plants his wide palm on your stomach, gently rubbing where he can feel your baby resting inside.

“Just like his daddy. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree,” you reply and turn around in Jack’s arms, removing his Stetson and placing it on the counter beside you before resting your hands on his chest. “Now, are you gonna kiss your wife hello or are you gonna make me send you outside to get a switch?”

“Depends on exactly how you wanna use that switch, darlin’. Be careful what you wish for, I just might like it and wanna take it to the bedroom with us,” he smirks, raising an eyebrow mischievously.

You throw your head back and laugh, shaking your whole frame and belly like damn Santa Claus. Jack laughs along and leans forward to kiss your elongated neck and then your cheek. You stop giggling long enough to kiss him, his mustache tickling your top lip. He breaks away, resting your foreheads together and closing his eyes.

“I love you, honey. I’m the luckiest man alive, blessed that you’d wanna be stickin’ around with me this long,” he says, his tone low and genuine.

You let a small chuckle out through your nose and bring your hands up to his face, gently rubbing the stubble from his five o’clock shadow with your thumbs. He never lets you forget it, telling you at least twice a day how lucky he feels.

You knew his reputation from girlfriends around town, you knew he was a romancer, and he lived up to the title. He was devilishly charming when you first met. Certainly charmed you right out of your waitress uniform when he stepped foot into the mom and pop diner you worked at.

What neither of you counted on was the days that followed, when he kept coming in just to see you, maybe have a quick romp in the back storage room no one ever seemed to use. It was thrilling and he was exciting; nothing like the boys that had been chasing your skirt over the years. Jack was a man and he treated you like a woman.

It’s been a few years now since the incident, when he let his anger and frustration take control of the better part of his morals and nearly let countless people die because of it. He opened up to you about what happened and why he did it when you had been together for some weeks.

He was ready for you to run for the hills, but all you felt was sadness for him and the need to help, however you could, kicked into overdrive. You saw a broken man in front of you, desperate for any sort of comfort or closure, no matter the cost.

He accepted your help at first, but he felt guilty about you spending so much time trying to smooth out his wrinkles; he didn’t feel worth it. He gave you countless outs, multiple chances for you to back away from his battered and bruised mind, and there were many fights about it, but you stuck it out.

You were determined to wash and scrub every last bit of anguish from his soul until the admirable Jack Daniels that laid dormant inside shone through, better than everyone knew before and that you heard stories about. Not to make him forget what happened, but to help him come to terms with it and remember his former life with fondness instead of fury.

After a long and grueling healing process, lots of therapy, and a second chance at Statesman, Jack finally felt some semblance of his old self come back to life, along with a new part of him that blossomed during his mending, thanks to your persistence. And he never let a day go by without thanking you for it.

You drilled it into his mind that he was worth it, even through every argument and late night when his nightmares tormented him. It took him a while, even after he got closure from his past, but finally, he believed it. He knew he couldn’t give you up and, when he deemed himself worthy of your love, he popped the question and you blessed him when you said yes, joining your souls for the rest of your lives.

“I love you, too, Jack,” you smile, placing a kiss to the curve of his nose. “And if anyone’s stuck with anyone, it’s you with me. I’m the lucky one here,” you smirk.

“Not a chance, sweetheart. You have revitalized me in more than one way. Given me a whole new meaning to life; you and our baby boy,” he says, rubbing your belly and a soft kick is felt underneath his palm. “You see? He agrees, so no arguin’.”

“Alright Jack,” you laugh and shake your head. “For now, at least,” you tease and kiss his lips before he can counter. “Now go wash up and get comfortable, I’ll be havin’ dinner ready here soon. Stuffed peppers and sweet potato fries sound good?”

“Oh,” Jack shivers dramatically. It wasn’t like you were serving a five star quality meal, but he’s always enthusiastic about anything you cook. “You know the way to my heart,” he throws both of his hands to his chest and makes a swooning motion.

You giggle as he kisses your lips once, twice more and lets you turn around to face the counter again, connecting his open palm to your ass in a loving smack. You yelp in surprise and he chuckles, striding away from you with his long legs before you have a chance to slap his butt in return.

You can’t wipe the large smile off your face, even with how badly your cheeks hurt. You just feel all the love and warmth flow through you, an eternal flame of elation deep within, burning hot in your being. You hear Jack rummaging around in your shared bedroom, turning on the speaker and singing along to John Denver’s “Annie’s Song” in the pitchiest tone on the planet, but it’s sweet honey in your ears to listen to the love of your life, who had endured so much, let himself enjoy life again, with you.

#jack daniels x f!reader #jack daniels x you #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x fem reader #jack whiskey daniels x f!reader #jack whiskey daniels x you #jack whiskey daniels x reader #jack whiskey daniels x fem reader #jack daniels fanfiction #jack daniels fanfic #jack daniels fic #jack whiskey daniels fanfiction #jack whiskey daniels fanfic #jack whiskey daniels fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #kingsman the golden circle

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cu-sidhe13 · 2 years

Text

Hey everyone, as promised here are my extremely disorganized thoughts on 911 lone star 3x01. Hope you all enjoy these and get a kick out of my rollercoaster of emotions like I did.

Spoliers ahead so if you haven't watched this episode already, do that befire reading this.

-Absolutely love the black eye on Billys stupid face.

-Yes Owen, love to see you fighting for the 126, and do not appologise for hitting Billy the snake deserved it.

-Have to say Tommy, Nancy and TK look great in their new uniforms.

-Are you kidding me I've been waiting for half a year for the new season and you BREAK UP Tarlos, I swear to god if I didnt know they were obviously gon a get back together I would just stop watching.

-Yes Nancy, be Switzerland. But seriously why the hell did they break up, and where is Carlos living now because I assume TK is staying with Owen. Is Carlos staying with his parents?

-Love that Grace and Judd ars having a baby girl and the nursery wall looks so cute. At least they haven't broken them up too.

-Love that Marjan is fighting for the 126, I really hope we get to see more development for her this season. Why is she the only one fighting though?

-My man Carlos is in the HOUSE. Love his and Marjans friendship and the callback to season 1 by him calling her Chica. Why is he so sad, I don't like to see him sad those Carlos cow eyes really coming into play here.

-What the hell Owen?! Just when I was starting to think I was gonna like you more this season, so much for fighting for the 126.

-Go away Billy, you snake.

-love how much Carlos screen time we're getting. Finally getting see Carlos being a cop for more than 2 minutes.

-Yes Marjan, you tell Owen. Our QUEEN!!

-Love Carlos going all soft with the guy freaking out and trying to calm him down. Though the fricking roof caving in on Carlos and the shelter was awesome, so well done Carlos looked like an absolute badass.

-We don't even know why they broke up? The rest of the 126 don't even know? Why are they doing this to us? TK doesn't look angry just sad so it can't have been that bad, I hope to myself.

-Okay TK looks slightly bitter when looking at Carlos, maybe it is a bit more serious, is this trying to imply that Carlos broke up with TK?

-Carlos stuttering is adorable, I would never have thought Carlos would get like this, him shaking his head to clear his thoughts was great.

-Carlos realising that something was wrong, then figuring out the redhead was missing was perfect, love to see us getting to see more of Carlos being a cop like we did in 2x08. Also love TK's concerned face when Nancy asks Carlos if he's okay. You do still care TK, I can see it!!

-Next episode looks packed, Paul seems to be in danger which is great as I would love to see more of him, Marjan is in a car wreck and TK has fallen in a lake. God TK you can't get a break can you? Have to be honest though I am getting tired of seeing TK getting hurt, it's like when the writers have no clue what to write they just decide to hurt TK. I think I would have much prefered Carlos injured as it would show us TK being worried and let us see the 126 and his family being scared for him. Although we will get to see Rafa's amazing acting next week, which is always a bonus.

That's it for me folks, hope it makes some kind of sense and I haven't rambled too much. Please let me know what you thought of the episode as I'd love to see what others think!!

Until next time!!

#tarlos #911 lone star 3x01 #911 ls #911 lone star #911 ls spoilers

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thelittleboyfromloveactually · 3 years

Text

Two Shorten the Road

part 1

joel dawson x reader

warnings: cussing? idk, bad writing.....fluff, cuteness, monsters(is this a warning), mentions of death, SPOILERS

word count: 2154

prompt: when your best friend decides to leave your colony to go find the love of his life, you decide to join him on his journey even if you aren’t so happy about where this journey is going

Welp I did it, I took it into my own hands. I am writing a joel dawson series. Because we👏need 👏more👏joel👏fics👏 it’s basically the movie, almost the same script but obviously slightly different…ENJOY! <3

No one in my generation or later had a typical upbringing, I mean some of us did but then the world ended. This type of thing sounds straight out of some apocalyptic movie, but we basically live in one now. Agatha 616, an asteroid heading straight for earth, I know, so original. So we all came together and did what we do best, blow things up. Yup, we blew up teh asteroid, and humanity was saved! We thought. But here’s the thing about rockets, they are made of a bunch of chemical compounds which eventually rained back down on earth. Suddenly there were these Aileen creatures that mutated and started eating us. Ants, lizards, roaches, crocodiles, you name it. Our president was even killed by a giant moth. Ya….not so original now huh? We suddenly need tanks to kill ants, oh man I remember the good old days when a shoe would do just fine. Sometimes even the tanks didn’t work. Eventually the really big ones and our military took each other out and we lost 95% of the human population in a year! Those of us who survived hid, bunkers, caves, panic rooms, all around the world. So for the last seven years I’ve been hiding in an underground bunker. It’s really not as bad as it sounds, and it’s better than getting eaten alive. It’s a great group of people and we all love each other.

“Are you sure they’re asleep?”

“Who?”

“Y/N and joel!”

“Oh ya I’m sure”

“Joel? Y/n?”

“He’s asleep”

Actually we are both awake. Me and my best friend joel have kinda mastered faking being asleep. Our beds are right across from each other so we normally just lie there and make stupid faces at each other. We are the only two single people in our bunker. Nice huh? Joel is my best friend. I met him when I joined the colony. He’s the sweetest. It’s funny cause everyone thinks we should just have sex already because that’s literally all everyone else does. But we are way above that. Anyway, joel is in love with his girlfriend from before the colony, her name is Aimee. With one “I” and two “e”s. He loves to talk about her, he writes her letters. So in reality, I am the only one who is not in love in this bunker. I’ve never had a boyfriend, ever, even before the world ended.

We don’t really get any sleep. The moaning kinda keeps us awake. I got up and out of my bed and headed for the kitchen. I heard Joel’s bed creak and then his footsteps as he followed behind me. Another annoying thing about being down here is that to get to the kitchen from my room, you have to walk though other people’s bedrooms. Oh shit, they are busy, why would they leave their door open. Me and Joel stopped.

“Oh” joel and I said in unison

“Hey Y/N! Hey Joel!” Ava said

“Oh hey Ava” Joel said, we didn’t dare look over to our left.

“Y/N how’s it going?” Tim asked

“T-totally good tim, h-how are you doing” I asked

“Yeah, good” he responded

“I uh we couldn’t sleep” said Joel looking at the ceiling

“Ya we know the feeling” Ava said with a laugh

“Yeah probably not for the…..same reasons” joel said looking straight ahead

“Your guyses door was open, did you…did you know that?” I asked

“Yeah we know” they said

I shook my head and knitted my eyebrows together

“Okay” joel trailed off

Ever since Tim’s parents were eaten by a swarm of termites he and Ava have gotten really close, in every way.

“Okay, goodnight” joel said as we walked

Basically everyone is coupled up down here, a baby was born last winter! Welcome to the apocalypse kid. Ok if we ever get out of this, that would be an awesome story to tell your kids. “Oh ya I was born in an underground bunker doing a monster apocalypse” “yes exactly like World War Z but with bugs bigger than a 5 story building”. I mean come on.

So your probably wonder how the hell we get food, we’ll we have a cow. Gurdy. Gurdy is great. We also have a hunting party that brings back whatever they can from the surface. It’s gotten harder and harder, cause we ran out of bullets. And facing one of those things with a handmade weapon is just as hard as it sounds. It’s very very difficult. I go with them….sometimes. I still get scared. But I’ve been out quite a lot, especially compared to my man joel over here. I’ve been out maybe 30 times, he’s been out…maybe once, or not even. He’s the chef of the bunker. He makes super good Minestrone.

Me and joel like to hang out with Mavis. A robot. Yup. Not much for conversation, her batter is shot. Just like every other mavis I would imagine. When I’m not hunting we hang out with her. But sometimes I just go read. Reading and joel keep me sane. I mean sometimes joel drives me insane but I still love him. I have quite the collection of books too! I’ve got Emma by Jane Austen, a couple random ones that we found, all the hunger games and Harry Potter books, some mysteries that stopped being mysteries after a while, and then of course some smutty romance books for personal entertainment.

Joel likes to say that his thing is target practice. He has never hit the target but ya know, gotta entertain yourself. I think his thing is drawing though, he has this book that he draws in from Aimee. It’s really cool actually. He’s really good.

I sat watching Joel as he tried to hit the target, laughing a little every time he missed. It was cute how hard he tried.

“Shut up” he said shaking his laugh away

I laughed again, but then suddenly the lights started flickering. You could hear screeches and creeks echoing through the bunker. Joel turned to look at me. Worry and determination in his eyes. We both scrambled out of the room and into the kitchen where everyone was preparing.

“Hustle, hustle people we’ve gotta move”

I turned to look at Joel but then realized that he wasn’t next to me. Where did he go? Worry flooded through me. Suddenly the clanking of our weapon started behind me.

“Hey guys!” Joel said as he rammed into the railing, I shook my head. “Guys! I’ve got the weapons” he smiled at me

A few people walked over to him taking them out of his hands

“Stay” said Tim

“W-what?” Joel asked looking around in confusion

Everyone was talking and barking orders “grab what you need and let’s go! Y/N you coming?”

My eyes shot open “yes! Yup!” I jumped up and grabbed the bow and arrow from Joel.

“W-what's happening?” He asked innocently “what’s going on?”

“There’s a breach” said Tim

“What do you mean? Like inside the bunker breach?!” He asked

“Yes joel! Now come on!” I told him, patting him on the pack as I followed the others

He followed me and watched the plan get arranged

“Anna, Y/N and I will engage. Anderson and Tom plank him”

“Plank him, ya ok where do you guys need me? You want me to uh come through the rear or..?” Joel asked eagerly

“I don’t think your going to pass this joel” I told him

“Pass what? You guys need help, let me help” said clutching his crossbow

“You gonna make me say it?” said Sam

“Say what?!” God he was so adorably clueless

“You can’t handle it joel, your shook” said Sam, we all began getting into positions

“Ya ok, yes so you guys don’t get scared..ever?” He asked still getting ready to fight

“We get scared, we all get scared joel, but you get really scared” said Sam

“They are trying to make you feel bad joel” I said sweetly, trying to calm him down

“We love you joel”

“But your a liability”

“Ok why did that speech feel so rehearsed? And what about Y/N? She’s like…ya know?” He said bobbing his head

“Joel-“ suddenly the bunker shook and the lights flicked again

“Ok 30 meters out! Let’s move!” And we were off

Leaving joel and some others behind. You could hear the growling of whatever we were up against

I followed the others and listened carefully. I was freaking shaking. Don’t ask how I got sucked into becoming one the the hunters. Kinda just happened and I was just-

“OH SHIT!” I heard someone yell, it was too dark to see. Someone was gone, that thing took them. I couldn’t even see it. Oh fuck my life. Everyone began scattering, running away from the monster. I stopped running to take a breath, when I realized I was alone. Nicely done Y/N. The lights kept flickering. I heard something blow up in the distance.

“Conned? Conner?” I heard a whisper, one I knew all too well. Shit, joel. I ran toward the sound, and had no idea I was also running toward certain death. I stopped running. There it was, that thing. I’d never seen this before. I didn’t recognize it. I stayed silent, not moving at all. It slowly crawled over a shower curtain. Oh fuck. He was going toward joel! I quickly grabbed my bow and arrow and shot it. Right though the face. Next to its….eye I guess you could call it. Joel stood there, frozen.

I slowly walked over to him “Joel, hey are you ok?” I asked as I slipped my hand into his. He was trembling. Tears ran down his cheeks. He has a bad freezing problem, so I've been helping him work on it.

About an hour later I sat with Joel, still holding his hand as he stared out into space. We could hear everyone talking. How could this have happened?

“It ripped through steal”

“Anderson and I resealed the Breach point, nothings getting in that way again”

“But why did it happen?”

I tried to toon it out, and I hoped Joel did too.

“Joel, do you wanna talk about it?” I asked squeezing his hand, he looked so sad, which just crushed me

He shook his head

“Ok….” I nodded, I leaned into hug him but was interrupted by his voice

“How far away is Aimee's colony?” He asked

I pulled back, looking at him confused. The talking stopped and everyone look at him

“What?” Tim asked

“Aimee’s colony, how far away is it?” He repeated

“About 85 miles” he said as he furrowed his brows

“How long will it take to get there?”

“What do you mean joel?” I asked leaning closer to him

“Just humor me, how long?” He insisted

“7 days” said Tim

“Someone who’s armed and trained would hardly last 50miles, but you…joel” Ava said, I felt bad for him, he really didn’t deserve any of this

“Alright” Tim continued “now I need volunteers”

“I’m gonna go” joel said

No one said anything, they just stared

“It’s an impossible journey joel” said Tim, crossing his arms

Joel stood up, moving around my chair. “No im serious…I love you guys but there’s only one person in this world who ever truly made me happy and she’s only 85 miles away” he said strongly “I’m gonna go see her” I could see his mind was made up

God he was such a romantic, how could you not love this guy? Sure it hurts when your best friend tells you that you didn’t make him truly happy. Especially when you maybe sorta kinda have a crush on him.

He let out a breath “woah, that felt awesome” he said as he walked off to start packing

I stood there for a second processing and thinking, but then suddenly my mouth took over and well….

“I’m coming with you!” I said, he froze “I mean you can’t leave me here with these middle aged people, and your my best friend so” I shrugged

“I’ll come back for you I promise” he walked over to me “I can’t let you put yourself in even more danger” he said grabbing my arms

“I can’t let you put yourself in danger knowing that I could have helped protect you” I said, he stared blankly at me

I smiled “o-ohK…then I guess…” he trailed off

“Cool I’ll go pack” I skipped past him. Was I scared? Hell yes. But like I said, I needed to help joel and protect him in every way I can. And sure I wasn’t so happy that he was returning to his long lost love but if it made him happy then I would live. And anyway, two do shorten the road.

#love and monsters #joel dawson series #joel dawson fics #joel dawson #joel dawson x reader

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everlarkficexchange · 3 years

Text

Just Close Your Eyes, You'll Be Alright

Written by: @alliswell21

Prompt 154: Soulmate au where your soulmates injuries and scars show up on your body tinted in their favorite color. Katniss through the years as she discovers new marks, pondering what it could possibly be, finally figuring out that her soulmate is being hurt way too regularly and in very specific places. Do her parents figure out Peeta is being abused? How do they find and “rescue” him? Or does Peeta live his whole childhood being abused before turning 18? Does he runaway? How do he and Katniss find their way to one another? [submitted by @lovely-tothe-bone / @peetamewllark]

Teen and up

AU- Modern setting (but like without cell phones). One Shot.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, Language, child abuse and neglect, injuries, implied (non-descriptive) underage smut. Nobody dies! Unbetaed.

-lyrics of Safe and Sound by Taylor Swift, Feat. The Civil Wars - Songs from District 12 and Beyond (2012)

Author’s note: Thank you to @lovely-tothe-bone for her inspiring prompt and to the organizers of EFE, for bringing the challenge back so faithfully, you ladies rock!

KPKPKPKP

“Look at her!” Papa screeched at the policeman, lifting the back of my favorite pink polka dotted shirt. “You have to do something about this, Sheriff Cray!” Papa demanded, angrily.

The man just watched, like he didn’t care. Then sat back down lazily, “There’s nothing much I can do, to be honest. Unless you can produce the child sporting the actual bruises, my hands are tied.” Said the policeman.

I had no idea what the problem was, I felt fine, but ever since my 5th birthday, every time Mama helped me out of my day clothes for my bath, she wept and held me close to her chest, whispering “No child deserves to be treated so poorly,”

Papa too always made a face and looked sad and angry when Mama showed him my back after my baths.

It was funny how bath time could easily be my favorite time of day, but it made the grown ups upset somehow. I just liked that mama would rub ointments on my back, bottom and thighs, carefully and without fuzzing about the time she was spending away from my baby sister, Primrose. Is not that I didn’t like Prim— I thought she was as lovely as a doll— I didn’t mind sharing mama’s snuggles with her either, but it was nice to just feel mama’s warm hands caressing me to sleep every now and then.

Either way, I wished someone would tell me what was so wrong with my behind that had the grown ups acting so weird.

They were starting to scare me, really.

“There has to be something we can do! There are genetic tests to determine matchless people, couldn’t we use the same technology to find the markers matching my daughter’s counterpart to identify him?”

“Mr. Everdeen, I’m not a geneticist. I wouldn’t know about anything like it… and who’s to say we could use it to find your girl’s soulmate? Then we what? It’ll open an unknown Pandora’s box situation, people would start tracking soulmates illegally or something less than honorable. It’ll certainly set a precedent we cannot foresee the ramifications of!”

“You’re telling me that there’s some kid out there, somewhere, getting beaten week in and week out, and you’ll do nothing about it?! You’ll allow the abuse to continue uninterrupted?”

The man nodded slowly, “You said it yourself, Mr. Everdeen. The kid’s ‘out there, somewhere’, we don’t even know if he’s local, or his age. In any case, I only have jurisdiction over District 12, and I can’t very well launch a country wide investigation on an alleged case of abuse, specially if we have no victim,”

“But my daughter’s soulmate is suffering! Who knows what permanent damage this poor child may have as an adult! It’s my daughter’s future we’re talking about!”

“Most unfortunate, sir. I don’t wanna seem unsympathetic, Mr. Everdeen, but unless your little girl can figure out a way to communicate with her soulmate, find… an address— at the very least a name— there isn’t anything we can do to help.”

Papa huffed, his nose flared, “Fine. Thank you for your consideration…Sheriff.” Papa put his big ol’ hand on my shoulder and guided me away, “Come on Katniss, it’s time to go home.”

I looked up at Papa and reached for his hand. I smiled at him, “It’s okay, Papa. Mama says to give grumpy people time, and they may be nicer the next time we talk to them.”

Papa smiled at me, but it didn’t crinkled the corner of his eyes, like real smiles did, “That’s nice sweetie… although, that usually only applies to people just waking up from naps, like you and me,”

I giggled when he picked me up and tickled my tummy.

Papa kept talking to grown ups about my back, but nothing was ever done about it.

———————-

I was 11 when our world pitched upside down.

Papa was one the foramen on shift at the town’s coal mine when the earth shifted and an entire tunnel collapsed.

Prim and I were in school when the sirens went off. There’s nothing worse than to hear the end of your world being advertised so loudly and without mercy.

I grabbed my sister’s hand and rushed to the mines; we found our mother there, clinging to the yellow tape cordoning off the site.

I should’ve known something wasn’t right when I was the one seeking Mama out, trying to comfort her, instead of the other way around. It was the first time the concept of a soulmate stopped being an abstract notion, and became a reality, because my mother stopped functioning altogether the moment she realized Papa had been hurt.

I saw how much a soulmate could affect you. It wasn’t only the marks on the skin— those came without conscious pain— it was the fear of knowing that someone you loved was hurting, sometimes badly, and not being able to do anything about it.

Mama’s left leg started glowing pink from the shin down at first, and the color began to shift to a darker red the longer Papa laid underground.

Unbeknownst to us, my father had been pinned under fallen rock and dirt after pushing a man to safety, risking his own life. The sharp end of a pickax perforated Papa’s leg in the cave-in. The pickaxe worked as a plug, keeping him from bleeding out while he waited for the rescue crew to reach him.

Papa laid on the floor of the very last lift to surface with rescued miners. He was unconscious. Had suffered extensive blood loss. The lone medic in the rescue crew couldn’t fix him up right away, but Mama was a nurse, and like a switch flipping on, she ripped off the bottom of her skirt, and tied a tourniquet around my father’s thigh, saving his life at the cost of his limb.

My father lived, but his leg had to be amputated.

He couldn’t work in the mines anymore, and what little money we got as compensation from his injuries, were put into paying off the mortgage, because Papa decided that having a roof over his family’s heads was far more important than having a leg.

The rub was, a roof didn’t fill our stomachs or put a coat around Prim’s shivering shoulders. Mama put a hold on her nursing career, obsessing over Papa’s care, despite his protests. Someone had to pick up the pieces, and that someone turned to be me.

I started selling everything I could carry out of the house in my arms: tools, kitchen appliances, small furniture, etc. But we never had many possessions to begin with, so my wares ran out soon, and I turned to our closets for their meager treasures.

I sold my parents best clothes, along with my sister’s winter boots that didn’t fit her anymore. I looked at my own shoes with longing, but put them into Primrose’s shoe rack, deciding I could manage with Mama’s boots, if I stuffed them with newspaper. Mama never left the house anyway. Neither did Papa for that matter, but he wasn’t dead, just convalescencing, so I left him a pair of footwear just in case, and sold his work boots and his Sunday loafers.

The day I was down to the last pair of clothing, we had been slurping on mint tea for the third day in a row from a few old leaves I found in the very back of the pantry. It was the last of our food, besides Papa’s bland diet, but I refused to let on on how precariously stocked we were, until absolutely necessary.

But, nobody wanted the hand-me-down baby clothes I had for sale, nor the slightly beaten stroller I was pushing around with my ‘merchandise’.

Icy cold rain, soaked me to the bone. I was so tired and downtrodden, I ran to the first awning I found, unwilling to go back home to Prim’s sunken blue eyes and chapped lips, asking for something to eat, while my hands were empty.

I tripped and fell face first on the umbrella stroller, breaking it irreparably and soiling the few onesies I’d been trying to sell.

With my wares ruined, and winded by a sharp pain shooting through my elbow, I limped towards a scraggly apple tree a few feet away. I recognized the place as the alley behind the town’s bakery, just by the smell alone.

I cupped my elbow, wondering if I’d broken it or merely banged it up? That’s when I saw the dumpster.

Big ugly thing, dirty and smelly. I climbed a wooden crate to dig for anything edible inside, but before I could lift the lid, a screeching voice shouted at me.

“Get out of there, Seam brat!”

I jumped off the crate, startled, and cowed behind the dumpster when I saw the baker’s grumpy wife sneering at me from the warmth of her kitchen’s back door.

A boy about my age— I recognized him as one of my classmates from school— peeked his towheaded face around the woman, and although they were a good five yards away, I could see his blue eyes widened as he took me in. The boy slipped back inside, as his mother spewed threats of calling the police on me and whatnot.

I started debating whether I wanted to trace back and drag my broken stroller over; pretend I was merely trying to dump it in the garbage, while inspecting the trash for food… but the baker’s wife was nicknamed the Witch by all the neighborhood children for a reason.

Before my mind was made, a loud, metallic bang resonated into the street from inside the bakery. Yelling ensued, then the sound of a meaty hand against a small face.

A few seconds later, the witch was chasing the boy out the back door, “Toss it in the trash, you stupid creature! Nobody will pay money for burnt bread anyway!”

The boy scurried by with his head down.

My eyes stuck on the bread in his hands, was probably the reason I missed the shiner under his eye. He stopped right in front of the dumpster, but instead of throwing the ruined loaves in, he tossed them in my direction.

I didn’t wait around to ask if he meant for me to grab them. I just scooped them up and fled like a bat out of heck.

When I got home, Mama gasped in horror. She grabbed me by the shoulders and pressed me to her chest. “Oh no! It’s getting worse. They don’t even care to hide the bruises anymore!”

Mama lathered my face with all the medicinal herbs she had at hand, while apologizing profusely for abandoning me and Prim to our own devices. She vowed to find a job, and to take better care of us.

“No child should ever suffer like this!” I couldn’t tell if she meant Prim and I, or whoever my soulmate was.

Mama interrogated me about my whereabouts and how I came upon the bread in my arms, but she seemed to rest easier after a while.

When I was finally able to look at my face in the mirror, I was horror struck by the deep orange bruise swelling under my eye. It took three days for the bruise to go away completely even with mama’s careful fingers.

Coincidentally, the baker’s son didn’t show up to school for the next four days. By the time he did, I had lost any confidence in myself to go up to him and thank him for the bread that fed us for a few days; the loaves were perfect! Only the crust had been charred, but I had a hunch the boy knew that when he threw the bread to me; I was also convinced he burned the bread on purpose, I was just too chicken to ask him why? Which made it even harder to hold his gaze when we crossed each other in the school hallways.

All I knew was that because of the selfless actions of the boy in my year at school, my mother seemed to wake from her single minded obsession. The boy with the bread gave our family a sense of hope, despite the fact that it would take some time for Mama to find work and produce enough money for the family. Papa’s medical needs had to be met as well, and he was due a new leg.

While those thoughts churned in my head, my eyes focused on a bright yellow bloom across the school yard. The first dandelion of the season! I picked the cheerful blossom, and the idea on how to feed my family until Mama was back on her feet, came to me.

After school, I took Prim’s hand and a clean bucket in the other; together we scoured the yard and the woods nearby for all the dandelions we could fit in the bucket. That night, we gorged ourselves on dandelion salad, and the next day, I pulled from under my parent’s bed, the only thing of value we had left in the house, Papa’s hunting bow.

“Are you sure you can handle it, pumpkin?” My father asked, watching me carefully.

“You taught me how to do it,” I said, trying to hide my nerves.

“I taught you with a smaller bow,” he pointed out, “why don’t use yours?”

I shouldered the heavy bow, and took a few loose arrows in my hand, “I sold it. These are all we have left now,”

After a handful of days practicing, I actually shot something worth eating. Seeing my mother’s blue eyes pop in surprise when I dropped the dead rabbit on the table, was priceless.

——————-

One early morning, right before summer break, I happened across another hunter… a trapper, to be precise.

A lanky, scowling boy, with three fat bunnies tied to his belt, and a fourth hanging in the air by a simple— yet elegant— wire snare.

I’d seen his traps before, his prey with their dead eyes and lolling tongues, just high enough off the ground to keep other animals from taking off with them. Papa told me that hunter etiquette was to be observed; if I happened across a trap that wasn’t mine, I was not to touch it, out of respect for my fellow hunters. That still didn’t discourage me from looking! After all, the snares looked like works of art, and I had no idea how to set any on my own.

“Stealing is a punishable offense, you know,” Snapped the boy, and suddenly I realized just how tall he was.

From up close, I could see the beginning of some stubble under his chin.

“I wasn’t gonna take it…” I stepped away from the twitching bunny, with my hands raised in surrender. “Admiring your work, that’s all. By the way, I’m Katniss Everdeen, what’s your name?” I asked, trying to be friendly.

“Name’s Gale. Hawthorne. So… you know how to use the thing hanging from your back, Catnip, or is that just for show?” He practically bumped me onto my butt, stepping passed me while pulling a knife from his belt to cut his kill down. He turned to watch me, smirking. “That thing looks bigger than you, are you sure you can lift it up?”

I scowled at him, wondering if he was expecting to see me squirm or something. I was smaller than the average 12 year old, but I was fast and scrappy.

“My name is KatNISS. I can shoot my own food thank you very much,” I held my bow aloft and moved so he could see my quiver full of arrows, “my weapons aren’t props or fakes,” I said, haughtily.

“Yeah, well, it still looks bigger than you,”

I rolled my eyes, fed up. Any other time I’d meekly shy away, and let him be; but I was feeling stubborn and confrontational, so I pulled my bow, nocked an arrow and let it fly, all in a fluid motion.

Gale gaped with a hint of fear in his gray eyes.

I felt smug and satisfied.

I wasn’t aiming at anything in particular, I just wanted the obnoxious boy to shut it, but by a stroke of luck my arrow pierced a falling leaf, and imbedded itself deep into the knot of a gnarly looking tree trunk.

“Wow! That was amazing, Catnip!” Gale said in awe.

“It’s Katniss… I’m okay, my father was better,” I said, puffing my chest a little, “I haven’t managed stealth yet, not like Papa before the accident, anyway. He doesn’t hunt anymore.”

Gale frowned. “Was your dad in the cave-in?” He asked grimly.

I nodded.

“So was mine. He almost didn’t make it.”

“Same.”

He just stood there, staring at the ground for a moment, then I tried to play cool, “Hey, I’d be willing to spare some shooting lessons, in exchange for some snaring techniques,”

Gale watched me, intently. He finally nodded and stuck his hand out for me to shake, “Deal!”

I smiled. Papa always said that good hunting partners were hard to find, and while I didn’t want a new hunting partner— I already had my father!— I could always exchange knowledge with a fellow hunter and improve my game.

——————-

Papa was fitted with a basic prosthetic leg. He couldn’t run or swim with it, but having the ability to walk without crutches gave him a “new lease in life”, as he called it.

He found work doing odd jobs for Haymitch Abernathy, a hermit drunk, with more money than he knew what to do with, and no family to spend it on. The man needed someone to talk to every now and then, and seeing as he and my father were close in age, they developed a strange rapport between them.

Still, Papa wasn’t completely confident with his fake leg, no matter how many physical therapies he attended; he still walked with a pronounced limp. Yet, he always had a word of comfort for Mama.

My mother often blamed herself for Papa’s disability.

He’d tell her that she did the right thing, that it was thanks to her torniquete he was still alive, and she should never doubt her own healing skills. But every now and then, my mother would catch a glance of her permanently grey skinned leg, and silent tears would slide down her exhausted, pretty face.

By then, I was old enough to know that the soft orange marks hidden under my clothes, meant a kid somewhere in Panem, probably my age, was getting beaten on a regular basis. It was sad to think about, but I’d grown so used to the marks, they felt like a distant happening without a meaningful connection to me. The bruises were there… just shy of a shirt sleeve, or around mid thigh, where they could be concealed by shorts; the way I saw them, they were like oversized freckles that came and went. A nuisance. That’s why watching my mother weep over her shadowy leg, was always unnerving and a little odd.

Was I supposed to despair the same way she did over my own soulmate marks? Was I broken or heartless if I didn’t feel as strongly?

Until I saw my mother’s grief over her soulmate’s leg, it didn’t register to me just how much the orange bruises were supposed to affect me.

I started to think if I wasn’t any better than the person dispensing the punches.

One day, I was leaning on my parents bedroom door, watching Mama applying soothing oils to her gray leg with the utmost love and care.

“Why do you rub so much medicine on your leg? It doesn’t seem to be bringing back your normal color,” I asked, staring where her fingers massaged into her flesh.

Mama stopped and called me over, to stand on her side of the bed.

“Papa is fast asleep, do you see?” She pointed out, kindly.

I looked past her shoulder, where my father was sprawled on the mattress on his stomach, dead to the world.

I nodded.

Mama smiled, “Do you remember all we’ve told you about soulmates? I’m sure they’ve taught you at school other stuff as well,”

Again, I nodded, just a little puzzled. “Soulmates have a very strong bond. They can’t feel when the other hurts, but they can see the marks, tinted in their favorite colors. That’s how we identify our soulmates, because we match and they can see themselves reflected back.”

“Exactly.” Said my mother, beaming. “Now, your papa and I are soulmates, and we love each other very much. When Papa’s leg was separated from his body, my body reflected that loss, despite still retaining my own leg. We match. The one thing most people don’t seem to realize, is that the connection goes both ways. I may not feel the physical pain Papa does, but I can still do things to my leg to help him feel better.

“For example, when he feels phantom itches, I scratch and his itching sensation goes away. When he can’t fall asleep because he’s uncomfortable without his leg, I massage lavender oil on mine, until he relaxes and goes to sleep. Everything I do to heal my body, and take care of it, helps my soulmate feel better.”

“Is that why you put lotions on my marks? To help my soulmate feel better?”

Mama’s lips thinned out; she didn’t like talking about the orange marks on my body.

“Katniss,” she said very seriously, “I tend to your bruises because I love you. I worry about your soulmate, because I love you. I try to keep you as healthy and happy as possible, because that will help your soulmate heal faster… because I love you. I can cure your soulmate’s body through yours, but I cannot protect his heart, mind, or feelings. Right now, you both are too young to feel the pull of your bond, but one day, when your bodies have matured, you’ll have this… yearning, to find one another, and then, I just hope, whoever your soulmate is, knows we tried to help.”

I cocked my head, “Should I be sad every time new marks show up?”

Mama inhaled a deep breath, “We should feel sad every time a child is mistreated, darling, no matter how we’re related,”

From that day on, I paid close attention to every child in my class for bruises matching mine. I also kept pomades and tinctures in my school bag, in case I ever saw another kid getting hurt. I wouldn’t say I started to develop deeper feelings for my soulmate after that, but I did feel deeper empathy for my classmates… I just couldn’t stomach big injuries, gore or vomit, but smaller cuts and bruises… those I could manage.

————————

“Silver Anderson figured out her cousin was dating her soulmate!” A girl in my year was telling a cluster of other 15 year-old girls in the locker room. “Do you remember how Silver has been wearing a turtleneck for the last two days with this darned awful heat?”

The other girls hummed their yeses.

“Well, is because Silver’s soulmate had a hickey on the throat, given by Silver’s cousin, who was his girlfriend or whatever. But apparently the cousin went over to visit Silver with her boyfriend, and one look at the guy’s neck, and Silver recognized the mark!”

There were gasps all around.

It wasn’t rare to hear of soulmates having relationships with other people before finding each other, but it was almost unheard of a relative dating somebody’s soulmate so close.

I finished tying up my shoelaces, and started rebranding my hair, making a mental note to double shampoo, to get all the sweat out.

“What an idiot! Who gets hickeys from their ‘whiles’?” Snorted somebody.

I wasn’t much for gossip, but even I had to agree.

‘Whiles’, weren’t permanent romantic interests, they were just to pass the time while waiting to find your soulmate. ‘Whiles’ were people to satisfy ones curiosity about dating and that kind of stuff, with no strings attached or substance; ‘whiles’ had a bad connotation associated with.

“Oh, the boy had never gotten one mark in his body that wasn’t his, so, he assumed he didn’t have a soulmate, and the cousin has already been confirmed to be a matchless.”

A big “Oh!” Swept the room.

Matchless were born without a soulmate, which meant they could choose to be with whoever they wanted as long as they were matchless as well, or with nobody at all.

Sometimes I envied their freedom to choose, but other times I felt a sense of safety, knowing there was a person somewhere in the world meant just for me and me to them.

Soulmates were genetically evolved to complement one another, but some just wanted to experiment before settling down. Lately, though, matchless births were growing in number, and that upset people for whatever reason, as if the freedom of choice was scary or a curse, then again matchless were usually whiles and those were looked down on.

“That’s awful!” Said a girl.

“I knew Silver’s near freakish obsession with keeping her skin pristine and hidden would bring her issues finding her soulmate someday,” Declared another.

“I don’t think she wanted to find him,” whispered someone else.

“Oh well, they did find each other! You can’t hide from your destiny. That’s just silly!”

“Either way, I feel bad for the cousin, because apparently she and Silver’s soulmate were talking about marriage, since they thought they were both matchless.” Informed the first one.

I lost interest in the conversation when it turned speculative, and stood up to shove my P.E. uniform into my locker.

Someone suddenly called, “Everdeen, how about those orange blooms on your arms?”

My eyes widened, and immediately, I dropped my arms, pulling my sleeves as far down as they would go to cover my soulmate’s private marks.

“Oh… um… yeah. My mother thinks my soulmate might be an athlete,” I stuttered; Mama had only said such a thing in passing once, when a couple bruises appeared that didn’t match the usual ones. “Also, he seems to work with his hands. Lots of nicks and scrapes.” I wiggled my fingers in front of me. That much was true, my soulmate probably wore those marks freely.

“Oooh!” A girl, Delly Cartwright, reached to take a closer look. “Could be a carpenter. Or a locksmith? Maybe a farmer!”

“It could be the blacksmith’s son! Doesn’t Silver have an unmarried brother?” Asked another girl.

“Yeah… a kid like 10! Ugh, Everdeen, I really hope he’s not your soulmate… can you imagine being so much older than your soulmate?!” Interjected the same girl that spotted my bruises.

I scowled. Age was a stupid thing to complain about. It wasn’t out of the ordinary to have an age gap between soulmates… my father was six years older than my mother, and Mrs. Sae from the Soup Corner at the market, was a handful of years older than her soulmate.

Still…

“No. My soulmate is most likely my age. I’ve gotten his marks my whole life,” I shrugged, absently rubbing my arm, where the brand new bruise appeared that morning.

“Oh… at least that’s something. Knowing that your soulmate isn’t so much younger than you, and that he might at least have an apprenticeship somewhere,”

“Right,” I said, turning away, wondering if it was awful of me to wish for a boy who never got marks on his body, like Silver’s pristine skin? At least that would mean my soulmate was safe and treated fairly.

———————-

Papa and I shared many qualities. I inherited his coloring: olive skin, gray eyes, dark, straight hair, our penchant for singing mountain ballads, and the same quickening of the blood when we got a kill during hunting. Prim favored our mother more closely, with their fair skin, blonde wavy licks and blue eyes, they also were more skilled as healers and more soft-hearted towards animals.

The day Prim brought home a half dead cat, riddled with fleas and missing an ear to be patched up and adopted into our family, my first instinct was to drown the orange pelt and be done with it, but Prim got upset and worked up, and I just couldn’t stomach her cries over what I considered to be the world’s ugliest cat… his face was flat, like it’d been smashed against a wall…

It took a long time to calm my sister down, and Papa made me pinky promise that I wouldn’t kill the fur sack and pretend it ran away, which I only did reluctantly, because I loved my sister and didn’t want her to be crossed with me.

Papa asked me to walk with him into the woods, afterwards, which I did readily.

Before he lost his leg, we used to go hunting all the time; everything I knew about hunting and foraging, I learned from him. But after losing his leg, we’ve only gone to the woods to hike and get him used to his prosthesis in the uneven terrain.

It was good exercise for him. The fresh air seemed to lift his spirits too.

We didn’t hunt together anymore. Papa’s tread wasn’t feather-like the way it used to be, prey scattered away before we even saw it.

It was alright. We enjoyed being out there together, and he still had lots to teach me about edible plants. Sometimes he’d find one of his old spiles, and then it would hit me: all his knowledge would’ve been lost if he’d died in that cave-in. I would’ve never known where to look for those spiles; I wouldn’t have the slightest idea how to harvest sap and turn it into syrup.

Sometimes, I had to sit down and catch my breath when those thoughts knocked the wind out of me.

I was having one such moment, when out of the blue, my father spoke in a low, calmed tone.

“There’s a new chief of police,” he said while sitting on a log, next to me.

“I heard.” I wasn’t trying to be snippy with him, but every time a new chief or sheriff was appointed to our district, Papa wanted to run back into the precinct, and demand they look for my soulmate.

Appealing to the police never led anywhere. It didn’t matter if they had new staff, they always gave us the same spiel: can’t investigate an abuse case without a victim. They couldn’t go looking for a person without a name or an address.

After a while, one just started feeling like it was an impossible task, to help one child feel safe.

Papa sighed. “We could try ourselves. I’ve been saving some money, and we could—“

“What? We could what?” I snapped. “We could go door to door visiting every little town in Panem until we find the bruised up mutt matching me?” I was at the verge of tears.

Mama said that once my body was matured enough, I’d start feeling the pull. Well, I kinda felt it, calling desperately. It started around my 14th birthday, when I started having a regular cycle, and puberty was at its summit.

First, I was curious about my other half and began cataloguing all the soulmate marks I could see easily. Suddenly I had whole maps of my hands and arms, and legs. Mama suggested I keep track of my hidden marks too, just in case. The curiosity persisted and evolved into an incessant wondering: where was he? How was he getting along? How could I help him protect himself?

“Haymitch may have a way, sweetheart. He knows people, and he likes you… he says you’ve got spunk,” Papa smirked.

I’d met Haymitch Abernathy countless times. He was rude and sarcastic. I usually responded to him in kind, earning myself a host of reprimands from my parents— although Papa still couldn’t hide his pride, despite trying his hardest.

“What would he know about soulmates anyway?” I muttered.

Papa shook his head, standing up, “Haymitch lost his girl, mother and brother all at once during a special outing. There was a car crash. Haymitch was badly hurt, but survived. His family didn’t. His soulmate was 16, so was him. The government paid him excessively for damages and the loss of his soulmate, because it was proved the city had skimped on roadside safety that caused the accident. But money didn’t fill the void of losing his loved ones. Haymitch never recovered.

“He told me once that losing a soulmate is akin to drowning. Except you’re still breathing without filling your lungs with oxygen…” Papa picked up the bucket we brought to collect sap, and smiled sadly at me. “Katniss, I may be exaggerating by hounding the police about your soulmate, but sometimes I worry that if we don’t find that kid soon, you could very well share Haymitch’s fate. Believe me when I say that I’d do anything in this world, to keep that from happening to you.”

I turned 16 that spring.

I started carrying a small mirror on me, to try and look over my shoulders into places I couldn’t reach, obsessing over every little mark that sprouted anew on my back.

I wasn’t sure if the all consuming watching, and the doubts that kept me up at night, not knowing what was being done to my soulmate, wondering if he’d survive another day, was the pull Mama talked about, or simply terror at becoming the next Haymitch Abernathy. Either way, I became more vigilant for injured teens around me, but a sinking feeling in my gut started nagging at me, that my soulmate was an expert at hiding in plain sight by now… how would I ever find him if he was as adept at camouflaging as I suspected?

—————————

“This spot is perfectly in the middle of the turkeys’ path.”

I crossed my arms over my chest to glare at Gale, “You just spilled a bunch of blood there. No critter is gonna come this way anymore with that stink.”

“Turkeys aren’t that smart, Catnip,” Gale looked up from his belt after securing his new catch— his pants were covered in gore from where the rabbit nearly cut its own foot off trying to fight the snare’s grip. “I’m more than confident that if we set traps here, we’ll catch at least a fat Tom…more if we set up a system wide enough,”

After a somewhat rocky start, Gale and I learned to respect each other’s skills, even joining forces for certain seasons, like deer and turkey hunting. We also fished together on occasion. It was safe to say we had a friendship after three… almost four years of partnership in the woods. At 18 Gale was less obnoxious, but still a stubborn ass.

“And I’m telling you, the path is tainted now. We need to put feed on the other side of the bushes, to keep them in the area.”

“That’ll take weeks!”

“Then you shouldn’t have let that bunny bleed to death in here!”

“Listen here, Catnip—” whatever he was about to say, died in his throat.

“What?!” I demanded, angrily, when he just stared at me horror struck.

“Your nose!” He roared. “Your eyes!” He tumbled forward, and squished my cheeks in his one, long-fingered hand. “There’s more coming!”

I yanked myself away from him. “Cut it out!”

“I think your soulmate is getting the shit beaten out of!”

I grunted and brought my fingers to my face, as if I could feel the changes.

Gale had seen some of my bruises, enough to be sure I had a soulmate, but not enough to realize my soulmate was being abused.

I rubbed under my nose, and the tip of my index came back bloody.

I gasped. That had never happened before.

“How bad is it?” I asked Gale, frantically.

“Um… orange keeps popping up all over your face. There’s some running up your arm right now.” He sounded careful, but frightened. “It’s like… burn marks,”

I looked down, where indeed, long, fat tongues of intense orange glowed up my left arm. I’ve seen glowing marks before, but always in the tip of my fingers or the sides of my hands, I never connected the glowing with fire— burn marks— but it made sense. I guess my soulmate must handle fire regularly.

“What’s happening?” I pulled my little mirror from my pocket, to see my face, and nearly sobbed at the sight.

One eye was completely covered in orange. Burn marks ran all the way from my elbow up to my cheek, and part of my forehead. My nose had a tiny, bloody smear, and my lip had streaks of orange here and there.

Whatever happened, was bad.

“Fuck… Do you know where he is, by any chance?” Gale winced.

“No… but I’m about to find out!” I looked around for a place to sit, then pulled my small knife out of my boot.

Once seated, I examined my forearms. The flaming marks started at the elbow on my left arm, and went up on that side, my right arm was free of injury, except for my palms. Both were glowing orange, but not too bad.

“Okay… here goes nothing!” I gritted through my teeth, placing the tip of my knife to my arm, I traced the word, “WHERE?” crudely, and just deep enough to break the skin.

Gale made a face, but crouched closed by, staring intently. “Do you think it’ll work?” He asked dubiously. “He might be unconscious for all we know,”

“We’ll see.”

The minutes rolled by and no answer came. I was starting to panic; all I could think about was would that be the day I became the next Haymitch Abernathy? At least he got to meet his soulmate and have a relationship with her before she died; I had no idea who mine was. Was it worse that way, knowing them and then losing them, or was it worst to never meet them at all? Would I become soulless? Would my entire body turn gray? Would I ever find another soulmate? Haymitch never said if he ever looked for another, but I knew it was possible to get a secondary soulmate if enough time went by.

“Look!” Gale shouted.

A shaky “D12” appeared under my message.

A relieved gasp left my mouth.

“District 12! That’s good! He could’ve been all the way in District 4, and then what were you gonna do? Call the authorities there?” Gale muttered, clearly invested in what was happening to me.

Tears stung my eyes. I wrote: “ME 2”

We’ve been in the same district the whole time, and I still had no idea where to find him!

I turned the knife back to the first word, and traced a line under it “WHERE?”

The answer came back faster. “S H”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I moaned, “What kind of abbreviation is that? Ugh! I’m trying to help you!” I screamed at my arm as if my soulmate could hear it.

“Seam House?” Gale mused… “No, there are hundreds, if not thousands of houses in the Seam,” he said.

The Seam was the poorer part of the district, where people like us lived: low income families, miners, laborers and the such.

“Ah! Ask if he means Slag Heap? If I was trying to pick a fight with someone, that’s where I’d go.”

“He didn’t pick a fight!” I snapped, defensive and angry. “He’s been beaten every other day, since I can remember. My parents used to go to the police station every year to see if they could do something about it. Nobody ever did! They always said we needed to figure out a way to communicate with him… well, I’m doing it now!”

Gale frowned, “That’s shitty. I’m sorry to hear that. The Slag Heap could still be it, though. Many people go there to be alone… if they’re running from someone, there’s plenty hiding spots,”

That sounded logical, “Okay… but the slag heap isn’t exactly small, and there’s some woodsy area to consider too,”

“Mmm… asking has been working so far,”

“Yeah, but the whole mutilation part is getting to me…” I glared, he wasn’t the one cutting his arm, “I’m starting to get woozy,”

“You’re a hunter, Catnip! Blood is nothing,”

“Animals, Gale! Not my own blood,”

“There’s no difference,” Gale cupped my face in his hands, to keep my eyes on his gray, steely ones. “we’re all animals. We all bleed the same. Your soulmate needs your help, if I knew who mine was, and I knew she was in trouble, I’d be rushing to them… you can do this, Catnip,”

I took a deep, cleansing breath, and nodded. “I’ll ask him. As soon as we know where to go… could you please fetch my father? He’ll know what to do,”

“You got it, Catnip!” He let go of me, and I felt renewed courage after his weird pep talk.

Once again, I trace the tip of my knife on my skin, “SLAG H? WHERE?”

“YES NE”

“North East! I told you it’ll work!”

“Yeah,” I grumbled, spelling making one last message: “W8 4 ME”

“K”

With half a plan in motion, Gale rushed to find my father, and I made a mad dash to the slag heap, where years and years of dumping dirt and rocks removed from the mines had formed small hills and mounds at the edge of the district.

“Hello!” I called out loudly. “Can anybody hear me?!”

There wasn’t a whole lot of vegetation in the slag heap, only hundreds of disturbed soil pits and little mountains… some were tall and wide enough they’ll easily conceal a person or two looking for privacy.

“Anybody here?” I called again.

A weak cough answered in the distance.

I rushed in it’s direction, hoping it was my soulmate, and not a couple trying to steal away a few minutes alone.

“Please, tell me where you are!” I called before another round of coughing reached me.

“Here to finish me off, sweetheart?” Came a weak, raspy voice from behind me.

I turned around but saw nothing besides dirt, and sticks, and moss on rocks.

I swallowed, “Where are you?” I stepped closer to the heap in front of me, and then…

“Well, don’t step on me!”

I jumped back and looked downwards, and finally saw dirty pieces of flannel and denim, incongruous with the area, and under all the debris, I realized a person had dug a little wedge at the foot of the hill, and thrown the stuff he’d dug out back on top of himself. The disguise was clever, camouflaging himself into the terrain.

I gasped and dropped to the ground, pulling handfuls of earth out of the way. A jolt of recognition hit me when a pair of bright blue eyes blinked open and shut, slowly, as if fighting off fatigue.

“Don’t go to sleep!” I warned.

“I’m sorry, but it might be too late for that already. There’s an angel hovering above me, and I’m not sure I’m not dreaming it,” a row of white teeth appeared from the soil.

My knee-jerk reaction was to chuff and roll my eyes, but if he was throwing me those cheesy lines, it meant he was somewhat lucid, and it was imperative to keep him that way.

“How do you know is not a nightmare?” I countered.

“Because Katniss Everdeen coming to my rescue, and being my soulmate could never be a bad dream. On the contrary It’s only my deepest, most desperate hope, really…” he trailed off, and closed his eyes again.

I was momentarily frightened.

“Keep talking,” I ordered, brushing dirt off his head. Some of it mixed in with his blood and sweat, turning into a thick mud. I could see more of his battered face; my heart beat erratically against my rib cage, there were so many bruises. “Peeta, keep talking,”

His untouched eye opened slowly, a lazy, sideways smile greeted me, warming me up. “You know my name?”

I chuckled, startled, “You know mine,”

“Everyone knows you, Katniss ‘the huntress’ Everdeen!” He reached up, tentatively, and touched the tip of my braid, whispering under his breath, something that sounded like: unreal.

Just saying his name felt otherworldly; like breathing for the first time. I’ve never uttered it before, for fear of bringing forward memories of that awful day in the rain, by the bakery’s scraggly apple tree.

“And you’re Peeta Mellark, the boy with the bread. I’ve known your name for a long time, baker’s youngest son, whose kindness saved my entire family from starvation,” I cupped his injured face in my hands, and I couldn’t help the slight tremble in my voice.

He seemed to melt at the sound of my voice; then his hands came to touch my face. “I can’t believe it’s you. I can’t believe you found me!” He said, an edge of incredulity and awe colored his tone, but then his face fell, “But, your sweet, beautiful face… it’s all…” a fat tear rolled down his muddy cheek, while his thumb gently caressed my temple and the side of my face. “I’m so sorry, Katniss… I never wanted you to look like this! I always tried to shift positions, so you’d never had to see how bad it got. I’m so sorry,” he was crying so hard, he started to shake and cough.

It took inhuman strength not to cry myself; I knew he needed me to protect him, and there would be time later to fall apart and feel emotional.

“Shush, I’m here now.” I knelt next to him and locked my arms around his head, pulling him against my chest, so he could hear my heart beating only for him. “I’m going to take care of you.”

“I really hoped it was you. I really did…” he heaved into my neck, his arms wrapping gingerly around my waist, “thank you for finding me,”

“Of course I found you… I’ve been looking for you for ages,” I whispered, finally giving in, shedding some tears, relieved that the tension, fear, uncertainty, and frustration were finally gone. My soulmate was in my arms, where he belonged! “My parents started looking for you when we were little. But we’re together now,”

Peeta calmed down some, but he was still breathing too fast, “Now that you have me… what are you gonna do with me?” He asked meekly.

I smiled down at him, “I’ll put you somewhere safe, where you can never get hurt again,”

He closed his eyes. “I’d like that…”

“Peeta, you can’t go to sleep just yet, okay?”

“I’m so tired, Katniss,”

“I know,” I cooed. I had no idea I was capable of speaking with such softness. “My father will get here soon, and then we’ll patch you up real well.”

“I can’t go back to my house though—“

“You ain’t going there, kid!” Papa said from a few feet away. Gale and two police officers followed closely.

I must’ve been completely enthralled with my soulmate, because I never heard them coming,

“Even if it’s the last thing I do, I won’t let you go back to that place!” My father stated.

And that was that!

——————————-

“Tell me what happened,” Officer Darius asked in a soft tone, trying to be encouraging.

My soulmate inhaled; one eye was so swollen it was completely shut, his other one roved around the room nervously. Peeta locked his gaze with mine, beseeching, and I offered my hand in support. He clung to it like a lifeline.

“My mother asked me to burn a pile of leaves and branches in the backyard that had been there since fall, but the branches were damp and it was taking me a while to fire it up. Since it’s the last week to burn stuff, my mom got impatient. She screamed at me, called me incompetent and useless… the usual stuff—“

“Does your mother call you names regularly?” Asked the officer.

“My mom calls everybody names. I guess that’s how she was raised. Her mom used to call her names too…” Peeta shrugged.

“That’s no reason to keep the cycle going,” my mama grumbled quietly, so only I could hear her.”

“After insulting you, what else happened?” Prompted the police woman, Officer Purnia.

Peeta scowled. “I told her I’d pour some lighter fluid on the pile and let it soak for a few minutes, but she wouldn’t hear it. Said I was doing it wrong, I was too stupid, I would never accomplish shit if I couldn’t even light up some dead branches… and, well. I got fed up. I told her she could start the fire herself if I was doing such a lousy job… my mom… she—She doesn’t like to be talked back…” He sagged on his hospital bed, and turned his face away.

“What do you mean?” Asked officer Purnia, taking notes, trying to keep an impassive mask on.

“The first slap landed across my ear because I dared to move away from her flying hand,” Peeta said tersely, “She didn’t like that either, so she took aim again, but with the bottle of lighter fluid on her palm. She practically smashed it against my face.” He stopped to gasp for air, while his good eye filled with tears. “I think fluid squirted everywhere, I smelled like my hair and clothes had been doused in the stuff,” he raked a shaking hand over the singed hair at his temple.

I caressed his arm to sooth him.

He smiled gratefully at me, and faced the officers to continue. “I’d just put a piece of burning cardboard into the pile. I guess the leaves caught fire during the squabble with mom, and I must’ve lost my balance after taking a plastic bottle full of liquid to the face, because next thing I know, I’m bracing my hands on the ground, on burning sticks, and then I’m on fire myself.”

Peeta sustained first degree burns on the different spots from his left forearm, up. Luckily, his wounds were managed as soon as we got to the emergency room, and his treating doctor said he would recover, with minimal scarring.

“How did you end up at the Slag Heap?” Asked Officer Darius.

Peeta sighed, “My mom kind of freaked out when she realized I was on fire. She picked up a rag from somewhere and started hitting me with it…” he paused, “in retrospect, I think she may have actually been trying to help me, but… I just saw it like she was still trying to beat me, so I ran off. I tripped, fell, then rolled on the ground, she started calling my name, coming closer to me. I was scared. I took off again and didn’t stop until I fell at the foot of that mound of dirt in the slag heap. That’s when I noticed my soulmate’s note.”

Officer Darius quirked up a reddish eyebrow, “Your soulmate’s note?”

“Yeah… these,” Peeta tried to peel back the bandage over his arm, but my mother put her hand over it, and shook her head.

“Here!” I said, immediately shoving my own arm in front of the officers.

Both examined my arm. “How did you think of doing that, Miss Everdeen?”

“I was inspired by your bosses actually,” I snarled.

“Katniss!” Mama chided, and then politely addressed the officers. “You see, my husband and I have come to the authorities for many years, urging them to find a way to locate our daughter’s soulmate. You see, she’d started exhibiting her soulmate’s bruises from a very young age, which in my professional experience, were inconsistent with normal toddler scrapes and bumps—“

“The chief of police always said to find a way to communicate with him, ask where he was… so I did,” I interrupted, haughtily. “I got you a real life victim to investigate. You’re welcome.”

The officers stared at me, flabbergasted.

Mama made a dismaying noise in the back of her throat, but Peeta’s face— burnt, bruised and swollen— lighted up, with the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen a person direct at me.

Mama interjected, conciliatory, “My husband and I believe, your department should have enough evidence to investigate Peeta’s case, now?” My mother’s searching blue eyes seemed to x-ray the officers.

“Well, Miss and Mrs. Everdeen, Mister Mellark, I think we have everything we need for now. Thank you for your cooperation. We’ll be in touch.” Said Officer Purnia snapping shut her notebook.

“Mr. Mellark, your case worker, Miss Trinket, will be in as soon as the matter of your emergency custody is settled.” Informed Officer Darius, right before wishing us a good evening.

Peeta frowned, “Are they sending me to like a home or something? What about my brothers? They can’t stay home with my mom… she’ll go nuts on them!”

“No, no, Peeta,” Mama spoke softly, “Miss Trinket is already on it. Haymitch Abernathy has offered his house for your brothers to stay at for a few days while things get sorted out. You’re welcome to join them, of course, but your injuries need supervision and several cleanings daily, so Mr. Everdeen and I feel it is in everyone’s best interest if you stay with us, at least until you’ve healed enough.” Mama hesitated, and then patted my soulmate’s hand, “I hope that’s okay with you, but if it isn’t—“

“It’s absolutely great, ma’am! Yes, I—thank you,”

Mama nodded, “Well, I’m gonna go get some stuff taken care of, and check on that case worker. Then they’ll hopefully let us go home… Katniss, I’ll need your help with something before we leave, alright?”

“‘kay.”

“Mrs. Everdeen…thank you,” Peeta said meekly.

Mama just stood stoically by the door, “You’re family, Peeta, it’s the least we could do for you.” The door clicked shut leaving me alone with my soulmate.

We were both silent for a minute. Then Peeta said half amused, half shyly, “I think the guy cop liked you. I caught him smirking a couple of times after your ruthless answers.” His smile was crooked. Boyish. I almost swooned.

I shrugged. “I don’t think he cared that much,”

“Are you serious?” Peeta laughed, “Katniss, you have no idea the effect you can have,”

I scowled at him, and he just shook his head. I couldn’t tell if he was teasing me or complimenting me. He changed the topic before I could decide which.

“So, you’ve been looking for me then?” He sounded nervous, and a little uncertain, “isn’t it weird…we are soulmates, but the only thing I know for sure about you, is that your favorite color is green?” He rubbed his fingers together, then showed me the tips, where he had dark green spots, exactly on the same place I had permanent calluses from pulling on my bow string.

I bit my lower lip, studying the thin spidering of green nicks and scratches, were I surmised my own marks have appeared after my daily trips into the woods.

“Your favorite color is orange. Not bright, but muted…”

“Like the sunset,” he finished for me.

Mind bonding wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities between soulmates, but my understanding on the matter was, that the bond had to be physically sealed before a pair could develop those empathic connections, where soulmates shared perfectly synchronized thoughts, as if they had one mind. Peeta and I weren’t there just yet, but it felt like we understood each other pretty well already.

He just stared at me in fascination, before his face fell, “I hope you don’t get permanently disfigured, if my burn scars don’t go away completely… you are so pretty.”

I rolled my eyes, pleased that he thought I was pretty, but not really knowing how to respond graciously. I’d never been called pretty by a boy before, not that it’d have the same effect as when Peeta said it… “You’re just saying that I’m pretty because I’m your soulmate,”

He smiled sadly, “No… I really mean it. I’ve had a crush on you since I can remember. I just new I belonged to someone since I was like 4, when I saw my first soulmate scratch on my knees. Your favorite colors back then were teal and pink. Your marks were always swirls of the two colors. I liked them. I liked that I belonged to someone who enjoyed colors, like myself… I wondered what your marks looked like, but then, I hoped you never had to see my marks. I was ashamed of them.”

My chest tightened, I climbed onto his bed, and pressed my side right against his, “Hey… I’ve like your marks.” I stuttered, “my parents never let me see the ones on my back until I was older, but I liked the ones you got in normal places. Yours appeared as rainbows where we were little.” I held his hand in mine. “I don’t care if we stay fire mutts forever, Peeta, the important thing is that we are together now,”

“Thank you for finding me,”

“Thank you for leading me to you,”

We leaned our heads together, and fell into an easy silence.

“Katniss…”

“Mmm,”

“We are soulmates.”

I tilted my head away, to look at him, “Yeah. We already established that,” I said suspiciously.

Peeta smirked, “You know, we’re supposed to be madly in love…so, it’s okay to kiss me whenever you want to,”

I snorted and rolled my eyes, but he was right. In any other circumstance, I’m sure we would’ve already progressed into couple-y, lovey-dovey stuff.

“If you’re already fishing for kisses, that means you’re healthy then!” I kissed his forehead. “But let me tell you right now, cheek and sass won’t take too far, sir,”

“It won’t?” he pouted, “then I’ll just have to swoop in when I see an opening,” he leaned into me, and I let him plant a peck, full on my lips.

My first kiss ever, and all I could register was how chapped his lips were… besides the small fluttering of butterfly wings in the pit of my stomach, of course.

“Well, time for a sip of water, and you should rest some too.” I said feeding him the straw in the Styrofoam cup full of icy water by his bed.

After he drank, we gravitated towards each other, meeting in the middle. Our second kiss was short, sweet, and full of relief.

I liked it. In fact, I wanted another, but Peeta was drowsy after the day we’ve had.

“I remember you used to sing, so beautifully, even the birds would stop to listen,” Peeta said, shyly… “would you… mind singing for me?”

“I don’t sing all that much nowadays, but if that’s what you want…”

He stared at me expectantly, so I had no other choice. I combed back his freshly washed hair, and started.

“Just close your eyes;

The sun is going down.

You’ll be alright;

No one can hurt you now.

Come morning light,

You and I’ll be safe and sound...”

When Mama came back, Peeta was asleep, and so she took me outside while my father sat in the room with the case worker, signing in my soulmate’s release papers, waiting for him to wake up.

“I want you to take these,” Mama produced a packet of medicine from a white, pharmaceutical baggie.

“Birth control?!” I groaned, embarrassed.

“Don’t look so scandalized, Katniss,” Mama rolled her eyes, “You and Peeta are healthy, newly acquainted teenaged soulmates, who will suddenly coexist together in close quarters. Papa and I agreed that starting you on contraceptives is the right thing to do,” she fixed me with a stare that broker no protests, “That said, we are not giving you carte blanche to act on pure hormonal instincts, Katniss. While we aren’t so naive to believe you won’t explore intimacy with your soulmate, we fully expect you to use caution, and make responsible decisions. Is that clear?”

I nodded, and snatched the pills from Mama’s outstretched hand. My face was burning with mortification, but I was grateful for my parents’ wherewithal and openness.

The next few days proved harsh and blissful at the same time. After 11 years pestering the authorities, Papa finally got the law to prosecute my soulmate’s parents for abuse and neglect. To call it a victory, was understatement.

Peeta’s father was declared another victim of the Witch’s abuse, but court ordered him to see a therapist and get evaluated by a professional, before he could come back home to his sons.

Mrs. Mellark was charged with endangering a child, battery, abuse and arson. She was court ordered to seek anger management and psychological counseling. She had been abused as a child too, and after watching her son in fire, it finally clicked in her head, that she needed to put a stop to the cycle… late as it may be. She went willingly when the police served her arrest warrants.

Since Peeta and his middle brother were still minors, they were temporarily placed under their eldest brother’s care; but the eldest brother was only 19 and had no idea how to be a father figure, so strange as it was, my parents insisted on having them all bunk in our tiny house, which was comically insufficient. Thank heavens Haymitch Abernathy was still willing to help.

The grumpy old drunk invited the lot of us to stay at his place for as long as we needed, and after cleaning up all the empty bottles and general messes around his huge house, we could enjoy the place at our leisure.

The boys kept working at the bakery, since they needed a source of income, and something to keep themselves occupied. Mama said they needed the normalcy of their business to cope.

It was a good thing Haymitch’s house was so big, since Peeta started having horrible nightmares after his mother was released from holding, after making bail; her trial was still pending, but my poor soulmate suffered severe PTSD from the events that brought us together. Neither of his brothers wanted to share a room with him at night…which allowed me to slip in when I heard him crying out desperately and fearfully.

Peeta would only go back to sleep after I laid beside him and sang, while carding my fingers through his sweat-damped, ashy blond waves.

“I’m not okay until I can see you’re safe,” he told me once.

After the third night in a row of this happening, I just stayed with him in his bed. My parents didn’t exactly approve— we were still 16— but there wasn’t much they could say to stop us. After all, our soulmate bond trumped any other familial bond; we just couldn’t legally get married and apply for housing until we were both 18.

Peeta still woke up in cold sweats at night, but my arms were there to fend off the terrors, and so were my lips.

On the night I felt a hunger so consuming and devastating, gnawing at me from my core, radiating to the tips of my being, I was glad my mother put me on birth control.

My soulmate gently, but steadily joined us together, cementing our physical bond for the rest of time, while branding his love and adoration to me into my very skin, with fevered lips and shaky hands. We gasped and whispered vows of devotion to one another, and then an explosion of feelings and emotions went off… I couldn’t tell where his life force started, and mine ended. We were one. Sharing a single soul.

After, we laid tangled together, our hearts beating as one. Peeta kissed my knuckles, and asked.

“You looked for me, for years. Real or not real?”

“Real.”

He kissed my forehead, “Will you sing?”

“Of course,” I combed back his hair with loving fingers, and sang.

“Just close your eyes;

You’ll be alright;

Come morning light,

You and I’ll be safe and sound.”

#alliswell21 #lovely-tothe-bone #prompt 154 #Springtime Edition 2021 #submission

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wjbsart · 3 years

Text

A complete, very long list of all GBoard-combinable emojis because I can't find one anywhere.

Ok so for those who haven't seen my stuff (or have only seen my Bionicle posts), I sometimes emoji mashup redraws, with the recent fourth one using GBoard-based fusions. Frustratingly, there's no actual list of fusion-compatible emojis, so I'll attempt to compile them, in a list below the "Read More" thing:

Green/▢ = compatible with fusion Blue/△ = only works with certain emojis Red/◯ = not compatible with fusion

Also, since other people's terms for specific emojis might not match up with mine, I recommend using CTRL+F and then doing this to find the specific emoji you're looking for. This list is in the order presented in GBoard's Emoji menu. Some of them will be generic unicode symbols, I don't know how to change that, sorry for the inconvenience. Also, I won't aknowledge multi-category Emoji.

Smileys and Emoticons

😀Open-mouthed smile▢

😃Wide-eyed smile▢

😄Closed-eyed smile▢

😁Closed-eyed grin▢

😆Laughing▢

😅Sweating smile▢

😂Cry-laughing▢

🤣Cry-ROFLing▢

😭Crying▢

😗Kissing▢

😙Kissing, closed eyes▢

😚Kissing, blushing▢

😘Kissing, winking w/ heart▢

🥰Surrounded by hearts▢

😍Heart-eyes▢

🤩Star-eyes▢

🥳Noisemaker and party-hat▢

🤗Hugging▢

🙃Upside-down▢

🙂Smile▢

☺Blushing, smiling▢

😊Blushing▢

😏Looking off to the side▢

😌Relieved▢

😉Winking▢

🤭Hand over mouth▢

😶Nightmare fuel Mouthless▢

😐Neutral▢

😑-_-▢

😔Pensive▢

😋Licking lips▢

😛Tongue out▢

😝Tongue out, eyes closed▢

😜Tongue out, winking▢

🤪Tongue out, wide-eyed▢

🤔Hmmm▢

🤨Suspicious▢

🧐Monocle▢

🙄Rolling eyes▢

😒Unamused▢

😤Snorting▢

😠Angry▢

😡Angry, red▢

🤬Swearing▢

☹Frown▢

🙁Frown but less▢

😕Confused▢

😟Distraught▢

🥺Pleading▢

😳AWOOGA Flushed▢

😬Yikes▢

🤐Zip▢

🤫Shushing▢

😰Distraught, sweating▢

😧Distraught, shocked▢

😦Distraught, neutral▢

😮Open mouth▢

😯Open mouth, surprised▢

😲Shocked▢

😱Horrified▢

🤯Your head asplode Mind blown▢

😢Crying, single tear▢

😥Crying, less sad▢

😓Sweating▢

😞Dissapointed▢

😖Pained▢

😣Persevering▢

😩Weary▢

😫Tired▢

🤤Drooling▢

😴Sleeping▢

😪Sleeping but different?▢

🌛Left-facing moon▢

🌜Right-facing moon▢

🌚New moon face◯

🌝Full moon face◯

🌞The sun▢

🤢Queasy▢

🤮Vomiting▢

🤧Sneezing▢

🤒Unwell▢

🤕Bandaged▢

🥴Drunk▢

😵Dizzy▢

🥵Hot▢

🥶Cold▢

😷Masked up▢

😇Angel▢

🤠yee haw▢

🤑Money-tongue▢

😎Cool▢

🤓Nerd▢

🤥Lying▢

🤡Clown▢

👻Ghost▢

💩Poop▢

👽Ayy lmao Alien▢

🤖Robot▢

🎃Jack-o-Lantern▢

😈Demon 1▢

👿Demon 2▢

👹Oni◯

👺Tengu◯

☠Skull and crossbones▢

🔥Fire▢

💫Star with trail▢

⭐Star▢

🌟Star with bits▢

✨Stars▢

⚡Lightning◯

💥Explosion◯

💯100△

💢Anime anger symbol◯

💨Steam▢

💦Sweat Droplets▢

💤Zzz▢

🕳Hole▢

🎉Party popper▢

🎊Confetti ball▢

😺😸😹😻😼😽🙀😿😾Literally all the "cat in different emotions" emojis▢

❤🧡💛💚💙💜🖤Literally all the coloured hearts△

♥Heart suit▢

💘Heart with arrow▢

💝Heart with ribbon▢

💖Shiny heart▢

💗Growing heart▢

💓Beating heart▢

💞Swirling hearts▢

💕Two hearts▢

💌Love letter▢

💟Heart in square▢

❣Heart exclamation mark▢

💔Broken heart▢

💋Kiss▢

👥Two silhouettes◯

👤Silhouette◯

🗣Talking silhouette◯

👣Footprints◯

🧠Brain◯

🦠Microbe▢

🦷Tooth◯

🦴Bone◯

💀Skull▢

👀Eyes◯

👁Eye▢

👄Lips◯

👅Tongue◯

👃👂🦶🦵💪👍👎👏🙌👐Every other body part and hand gesture, seriously this isn't even all of them◯

People

Seriously, I don't know why none of the people-category emojis are Fusion-compatible. Let's just move on.◯

Animals and Nature

💐Bunch of flowers▢

🌹Rose▢

🥀Wilted rose◯

🌷Tulip▢

🌺Hibiscus flower◯

🌸Cherry blossom▢

🏵Rosette◯

🌻Sunflower◯

🌼Daisy▢

💮White flower◯

🍂Falling leaves◯

🍁Maple leaf◯

🌾Rice plants◯

🌱Seedling◯

🌿Herb◯

🍃Falling leaves again◯

☘3-leaf clover◯

🍀4-leaf clover◯

🌵Cactus▢

🌴Palm tree◯

🌳Deciduous tree◯

🌲Coniferous tree▢

🏞National park◯

⛰Mountain◯

🌊Wave◯

🌬Wind◯

🌀Tornado symbol◯

🌁Foggy scene◯

🌫Fog▢

🌪Tornado▢

☃Snowman (with snow)▢

⛄Snowman (without snow)▢

❄Snowflake

🏔Mountain with snow◯

🌡Thermometer◯

🌋Volcano◯

🏜Desert◯

🏝Desert island◯

🏖Beach◯

🌅Sunrise/set (water)◯

🌄Sunrise/set (mountains)◯

☀Sun▢

🌤Sun with cloud◯

⛅Sun and cloud◯

🌥Cloud with sun◯

🌦Sun and cloud with rain◯

☁Cloud▢

🌨Snowcloud◯

⛈Stormcloud◯

🌩Thundercloud◯

🌧Raincloud◯

💧Drop◯

☔Umbrella with rain◯

🌈Rainbow▢

✨Sparkles▢

🌙Crescent Moon◯

☄Comet◯

🌠Shooting star▢

🌌Milky Way◯

🌉Bridge◯

🌆City in the evening▢

🌃City at night▢

🌍🌏🌎Earth▢

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘The moon◯

🙈🙉🙊🐵Monkeys, wise or not▢

🦁Lion face▢

🐯Tiger face◯

🐱Cat face▢

🐶Dog face◯

🐺Wolf face◯

🐻Bear face▢

🐨Koala face▢

🐼Panda face▢

🐹Hamster face◯

🐭Mouse face◯

🐰Rabbit face▢

🦊Fox face◯

🦝Raccoon face◯

🐮Cow face◯

🐷Pig face▢

🐽Pig nose▢

🐗Boar head◯

🦓Zebra head◯

🦄Unicorn head▢

🐴Horse head◯

🐸Frog face◯

🐲Dragon head◯

🦎Lizard◯

🐉Dragon◯

🦖T-Rex◯

🦕Diplodocus◯

🐢Turtle▢

🐊Crocodile◯

🐍Snake◯

🐁Mouse▢

🐀Rat◯

🐇Rabbit▢

🐈Cat▢

🐩Poodle◯

🐕Dog◯

🐅Tiger◯

🐆Leopard◯

🐎Horse◯

🐖Pig▢

🐄Cow◯

🐂Bull◯

🐃Water buffalo◯

🐏Ram◯

🐑Sheep◯

🐐Goat▢

🦌Deer▢

🦙Llama▢

🦘Kangaroo◯

🐘Elephant◯

🦏Rhinoceros◯

🦛Hippopotamus◯

🦒Giraffe◯

🐒Monkey▢

🦍Gorilla◯

🐪🐫Camels◯

🐿Squirrel (why does the squirrel of all things have a Unicode symbol?)◯

🦡Badger◯

🦔Hedgehog▢

🦇Bat▢

🐓Cockerel/rooster◯

🐔Chicken◯

🐣🐥🐤Chicks◯

🐦Bird▢

🦉Owl▢

🦅Eagle◯

🦜Parrot◯

🕊Dove◯

🦢Swan◯

🦚Peacock◯

🦃Turkey◯

🦆Duck◯

🐧Penguin◯

🦈Shark◯

🐬Dolphin◯

🐋🐳Whales◯

🐟Fish▢

🐠Tropical fish◯

🐡Pufferfish◯

🦐Prawn◯

🦞Lobster◯

🦀Crab◯

🦑Squid◯

🐙Octopus▢

🦂Scorpion▢

🕷Spider▢

🕸Spiderweb◯

🐚Shell◯

🐌Snail▢

🐜Ant◯

🦗Grasshopper◯

🦟Mosquito◯

🐝Bee▢

🐞Ladybird◯

🦋Butterfly◯

🐛"Bug" yeah sure ok◯

🐾Pawprints◯

Food and Drink

🍓Strawberry▢

🍒Cherry◯

🍎Red apple◯

🍉Watermelon◯

🍑Peach◯

🍊Orange◯

🥭Mango◯

🍍Pineapple▢

🍌Banana◯

🍋Lemon▢

🍈Melon◯

🍏Green apple◯

🍐Pear◯

🥝Kiwi◯

🍇Grapes◯

🥥Coconut◯

🍅Tomato◯

🌶Chili▢

🍄Mushroom◯

🥕Carrot◯

🍠Sweet potato◯

🌽Corn◯

🥦Broccoli◯

🥒Cucumber◯

🥬Lettuce◯

🥑Avocado▢

🍆Aubergine◯

🥔Potato◯

🌰Nut◯

🥜Peanuts◯

🍞Bread▢

🥐Croissant◯

🥖Baguette▢

🥯Bagel◯

🥞Pancakes◯

🍳Frying pan◯

🥚Egg (somehow)◯

🧀Cheese▢

🥓Bacon◯

🥩Meat◯

🍗Chicken leg◯

🍖Anime meat◯

🍔Burger◯

🌭Hotdog▢

🥪Sandwich◯

🥨Pretzel◯

🍟Chips◯

🍕Pizza◯

🌮Taco◯

🌯Wrap◯

🥙Stuffed flatbread◯

🥘Paella◯

🍝Spaghetti◯

🥫Can◯

🥣Bowl◯

🥗Salad◯

🍲Pot of food◯

🍛Curry◯

🍜Noodles◯

🍣Sushi◯

🍤Fried prawn◯

🥡Takeaway container◯

🍚Cooked rice◯

🍱Bento◯

🥟Dumpling◯

🍢Oden◯

🍙Jelly Donut Rice ball◯

🍘Rice cracker◯

🍥Fishcake◯

🍡Dango◯

🥠Fortune cookie◯

🥮Moon cake◯

🍧Shave ice◯

🍨Ice cream◯

🍦See above◯

🥧Pie◯

🍰Cake slice◯

🍮Custard mate what kinda custard have you been eating, this is clearly a créme caramel◯

🎂Birthday cake▢

🧁Cupcake▢

🍭Lollipop◯

🍬Boiled sweet◯

🍫Chocolate◯

🍩Donut◯

🍪Cookie◯

🍯Honey◯

🧂Salt◯

🍿Popcorn◯

🥤Soft drink◯

🥛Milk◯

🍼Baby bottle◯

🍵Green tea◯

☕Coffee▢

🍺Beer◯

🍻Beers, plural◯

🥂Champagne glasses◯

🍾Champagne◯

🍷Red red wine◯

🥃Whiskey◯

🍸Martini◯

🍹Cocktail◯

🍶Sake◯

🥢Chopsticks◯

🍴Knife and fork▢

🥄Spoon◯

🔪Kitchen knife◯

🍽Plate▢

Travel and Places

🛑🎡Everything from the stop sign to Ferris wheel◯

🎠Merry-go-round horse▢

🎪🏕Everything from circus tent to campsite◯

🌇City at sunset yes I'm surprised as you are▢

🛤Train tracks◯

🛣Road◯

🗺Map◯

🗾Japan is an island by the sea filled with volcanoes and it's beautifuul!◯

🌐Globe with meridian lines▢

💺Plane seat◯

🧳Luggage◯

Activities and Events

🎈Balloon▢

🎀Bow◯

🎁Present◯

🎇Sparkler◯

🎆Fireworks◯

🧨Dynamite Firecracker◯

🧧Red envelope◯

🎐Wind chime◯

🎏Fish streamers◯

🎎Japanese dolls (that's what the emoji's called, don't @ me with the actual name for them)◯

🎑Moon viewing ceremony◯

🎍Pine decoration◯

🎋Tanabata◯

🎄Christmas tree▢

🎗Ribbon△

🥇🥈🥉🏅🎖Medals◯

🏆Trophy◯

📣Megaphone◯

🥅Goal◯

⚽⚾🥎🏀🏐🏈🏉🎾🏸🥍🏏🏑🏒SPORTS◯

🥌Curling stone◯

🛷Rosebud Sled◯

🎿Ski◯

⛸Skate◯

⛳Golf-hole◯

🎯Target◯

🏹Bow◯

🥏Frisbee◯

🎣Fishing rod▢

🎽Running shirt◯

🥋Martial arts uniform◯

🥊Boxing glove◯

🎱8-ball◯

🏓Ping-pong◯

🎳Bowling◯

♟Chess◯

🧩Puzzle piece◯

🎮Controller◯

🕹Joystick◯

👾Videogame alien◯

🔫Gun◯

🎲Dice◯

🎰Slot machine◯

🎴Flower playing card◯

🀄Mahjong tile◯

🃏Joker◯

🎩Top hat◯

📷📸Camera◯

🖼Painting◯

🖌Paintbrush◯

🖍Crayon◯

🧵String◯

🧶Wool◯

🎼🎵🎶Music▢

🎷🎺🎸🎻🥁Instruments◯

🎤Mic◯

🎧Headphones▢

🎚🎛🎙📻Assorted audio stuff◯

📺TV◯

📼VHS◯

📹Camcorder◯

📽Projector◯

🎥Film camera◯

🎞Film◯

🎬Clapperboard◯

🎭Comedy and tragedy masks◯

🎫🎟Tickets◯

Objects

📱🧻Everything from smartphone to toilet roll◯

🧸Teddy bear▢

🧷🧢Everything from safety pin to baseball cap◯

👑Crown▢

🎒💍Everything from backpack to ring◯

💎Diamond▢

💄👓Everything from lipstick to glasses◯

🕶Sunglasses▢

🥽📁Everything from goggles to folder◯

🕶Newspaper▢

🗞🔎Everything from rolled-up newspaper to right-pointing magnifying glass◯

🔮Crystal ball▢

🧿🔓Everything from Nazar amulet to open lock◯

Symbols

There are no compatible non-repeated Emoji here.◯

Flags

Aaaaand none here either.◯

Feel free to let me know if I got anything wrong.

#emoji #emoji mashup #cursed emoji

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romantichopelessly · 3 years

Text

Line Without a Hook

Happy holidays @romanapologist ! I am so so so sorry that this @sanderssidesgiftxchange gift comes to you so late, but I am very bad at checking my email and just found out that I was going to be your pinch hitter. I hope that you enjoy this Intruality hurt/comfort anyway. It came with some help from my wonderful friend @sunshineandteddybears as well.

Words: 2.6k

Summary: When Patton's entire world view is challenged--when he doesn't even know who he is supposed to be anymore, help comes from an unexpected source. Maybe things can be okay after all.

Warnings: This is hurt/comfort, so there is a happy ending. Before that there is descriptions of intrusive thoughts, guilt, depression and negative self talk.

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Morality was a bit more complex than Thomas had been led to believe when he was younger. No, a lot more complex. When Thomas was just a kid the rules were clear cut. Simple. Don’t fight with your brothers. Do as your parents tell you to. Respect your teachers. Say please and thank you. Don’t lie.

Or do?

Were even those simple, childhood rules concrete anymore? Janus’s words suggested otherwise. And from what Patton could tell, the snake-like side was right. Had been right for a while now, just muffled by Patton’s own ignorance and… pride. His insistence that he had to be the one to help Thomas out of every situation. Was the foundation that Patton had built everything on--Thomas’s feelings, his motivations, his perception of the world--even stable?

Patton himself sure wasn’t.

Even now, sitting in his sepia-toned room, surrounded by stuffed animals and memorabilia that could usually comfort him, when Patton closed his eyes, he could see the green on the edges of his vision. He could hear his own voice, distorted and croaking, feel his heart racing again, the knowledge that he had hurt Thomas, his Thomas, and that he was responsible for years of grief-

Patton choked back on a sob. The lump in his throat was almost unbearable. He pressed his mouth into the back of his panda pillow pet to muffle the sound.

The only thing worse than sitting alone in his room with the crushing knowledge of his failure was the possibility that someone would hear him and come to check on him. The idea of one of the other sides--one of his friends--seeing him like this, weeks after the incident, was unacceptable.

He could just imagine the look of pity that would cross their face. Roman would look so heartbroken to find Patton in such a state. Virgil would probably extend the same amount of kindness that Patton had always shown when he found Virgil in the midst of a panic attack. (But had Patton been kind to do so? Or was it just another form of selfishness? An act born out of guilt for shutting Virgil out for so many years. Was Patton only kind because someone told him to be once? Did he actually love any of them at all? Or was he just destructive?) Logan- Patton was ashamed to admit that he was not sure how Logan would react. He was sure that it would be heartachingly sweet, though. He would probably say something poignant and true that would make Patton feel stupid for ever feeling bad in the first place.

If one of the d- the others found Patton…

It wasn’t like Patton had been avoiding them. In fact, in the days following the… incident… Patton had gone out of his way to seek them out. Janus had been wary at first, and it broke Patton’s heart a bit. The look of distrust in his two-toned eyes. The slight curl of his lip. Confusion? Suspicion? Patton couldn’t tell at the time, and although it had replayed again and again in his mind ever since, he still was not quite sure.

He liked to think that he was doing the right thing now. That he could make things right.

But who was he to judge that anymore?

It was obvious, now, that he had never known what was truly right. He was only just deluded enough, just stupid enough, to assume that his function as Thomas’s Morality was infallible. But his versions of right were wrong. Catastrophically so. Up was down. Left was right. Black was white. Or was gray the new goal? That sounded like something that Janus would say. He was still confused about it.

He was just so stupid.

Another sob was stuck in the back of Patton’s throat. His eyes burned, shame and guilt curling in his stomach in an ugly flash of putrid green and black.

He had carried Thomas’s heart on his sleeve and on his shoulders. And he had buckled under the pressure.

And now Thomas was cracked. And no one knew if it was fixable, least of all Patton.

Grounding. Patton knew, distantly, that he needed to ground himself. But it was borderline impossible with tears clouding his vision and pooling in the frames of his glasses.

How could anyone ground themselves when it felt like the ground was opening underneath them?

Did he even deserve to be grounded? Didn’t Patton deserve to feel this way? After everything that he had done to Thomas, to Virgil, by ignoring his obvious discomfort at Patton’s over exuberant displays of love, to Janus, by pushing his contributions aside for years, hell, even to Logan and Roman. Not to mention Remus, who Patton still did not have the guts to spend more than ten minutes alone with. Who was so, painfully, obviously bereft of love and craving attention. Who looked at Patton like he was a friend, like he was something to smile at, even though Patton had shown him time and time again the exact opposite.

A gasping sob wrenched its way out of Patton’s chest before he could muffle himself with his panda. He didn’t deserve that kind of a second chance. He really, really didn’t.

He deserved nothing other than to sit here alone in his room, with nothing other than his own guilt.

In fact, Patton should probably just stay there, in his room forever. He could do his work as Thomas’s heart and emotions from here, and really that was all that he had ever been any good for anyway.

There was a loud POP from the far side of Patton’s room that startled him into raising his head up from his pillow pet.

Across the room, just beside the door, stood Remus. Patton blinked, stunned. His hair was disheveled, which was not out of the ordinary, the silver streak that ran through his brunette locks sticking up in a wild cow lick. The purple eyeshadow that encircled his eyes gave the unique impression that he was startled. Or perhaps deranged.

“...Remus?” Patton’s voice came out in a weak, watery croak that made him wince. Tears were still fogging his vision, so he couldn’t quite see Remus’s reaction to such a sad sight.

“Pattycake?” The usually taunting nickname sounded surprisingly… soft. The Duke’s voice was almost… gentle. It nearly shocked Patton into stopping crying. Nearly. “What’s up?”

“I’m fine.” Patton responded immediately. Reflexively. He didn’t even bother to try for a smile though, even he knew that it would be weak.

“Don’t try that.” Remus’s voice was steady. He still hadn’t moved from his station at the door. “I could hear you bawling your eyes out from the hallway.”

Patton closed his eyes. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. He had been too loud. They had probably all heard him in here, crying like a baby over his own stupid mistakes. And now Remus was here, and could see him, all blotchy and red in the face, his hair messy from when he had been running his hands through it earlier before covering it with the hood of his cat hoodie. Remus was here, and he knew that Patton wasn’t okay right now. Remus was here, and he sounded… sympathetic.

Patton sniffed pathetically. “I’m sorry.” Remus blinked this time, tilting his head at an awkward angle. He looked confused. Patton continued on. “I didn’t mean to be so loud.”

Remus was silent for a moment. Patton took a couple of deep breaths, trying to stop himself from crying.

“Can I come sit with you?” Remus asked.

Patton swallowed. There was no use in denying the Duke. He pulled his knees closer to himself and gestured to the open space beside him. Remus had crossed the room in an instant and dropped unceremoniously down next to Patton.

“Who upset you?”

Patton looked up, surprised once again. It wasn’t unusual for Remus to say shocking or surprising things, he embodied Thomas’s intrusive thoughts. However, the level of… concern that Remus was showing at the moment was not something that Patton expected.

“If someone said something to you, I can remove their toenails and glue them to their forehead for you.”

Patton bit back a wince. That was more like the Remus that he was becoming used to.

“No one.” Patton answered, truthfully. Remus looked skeptical, so he continued. “No one said anything to me, really. I just… Get down sometimes.”

Remus looked confused. “You mean like depression?”

Patton curled back at the word, as though it were a physical blow.

“Well, fuck, Patty!” Remus sounded much brighter now, and when Patton looked back up, he could see that the other side was smiling. “You could have just said so!”

“It’s not just… that.” Even now, Patton was unable to say it. Unable to admit to it. “I’ve been… thinking.”

“Sounds dangerous.”

The joke startled a chuckle from Patton. It was choked and sad sounding, but it made Remus wiggle proudly nevertheless. Patton sniffed again. “No, not like that, sorry. I just mean that I’ve been… thinking about Thomas. About everything that’s been changing lately.” Patton stared across the room at a painting by 12 year old Thomas that was hanging on his wall. “About… how I’ve been holding him back. I can’t stop thinking about it, no matter what I do to try and fix things.”

“Then don’t!”

Patton blinked in confusion, tilting his head in confusion as he sniffed one more. “Huh?” he couldn’t help but mumble out. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t try to fix things.” The Duke grinned widely, showing off teeth. He seemed so proud of himself, but Patton was still confused. How could he not try to fix things? He kept messing things up, so he had to find a way to do it right this time. He needed to. “But-” A hand clamped onto his back, making him startle and tense. It left just as quickly as it came, Remus pulling it away as if he had been burned.

“Oops, sorry. Forgot to ask if that was okay.”

Patton frowned. He hadn’t meant to make the other side feel like touching him had been a bad thing. He typically loved physical affection! He just hadn't expected it, that’s all! But now he went and made Remus feel bad, because apparently that was all he could do lately-

“Anyways,” the Duke continued, his tone unbothered, “you don’t have to fix everything, Pattycakes. Especially by yourself. Sometimes things aren’t as broken as you think they are, and don’t really need fixing at all. Sometimes things fix better when you leave them alone and let time work itself out. And sometimes, you take it to a specialist who knows better than you on how to fix it.” That sounded… rather wise. It was more than a bit unexpected, coming from a side that was currently picking his nose as he gave his advice. But Patton was quickly learning that the others had more to offer than their appearance suggested.

Still... “How do I know which kind of thing this is?”

“You don’t.” Well, that was disappointing. “At least, I never do. Not right away. After a while you start to figure it out, but even then you can still mess up sometimes. But that’s okay.” Grinning a little more softly, Remus looked right into Patton’s eyes. “No matter what, you got others around who can help you. Even when you don’t think you need it, or aren’t allowed to ask for it, they’re there. Like plumbers or doctors! Better to use them than to play handyman or diagnose yourself with WebMD. Get your kids fucking vaccinated Karen!”

A startled laugh escaped Patton at that. He was a little in disbelief over the suddenness of it, but he sounded a little less like he was going to burst into more tears.

Remus seemed to take that as a victory as he cackled quietly himself. “I’m not sure if anything I’m saying makes any sense, but things are gonna be okay. Your world’s been shaken to its core, but it’s still in one piece. Mostly. Just gotta adapt now.” Patton rubbed at his eyes with his sleeve, they felt puffy and a little itchy, as he hummed in thought. “But what about Thomas and everyone else? The pain I’ve caused them…” “Did you say sorry?”

“Well, yes-” “Then the only thing you can do now is learn and work to do better next time.” Remus sounded so sure, so certain. But it couldn’t be that easy could it? “You don’t gotta keep apologizing for the same stuff. We’ve all done bad things before, me especially! Thomas is still standing, and not too worse for wear.” He couldn’t deny the truth of that. Thomas was still more or less in one piece. “He’ll be okay, and so will we. So will you.”

A small smile formed on Patton’s lips. It wobbled and didn’t go very far, but it was genuine. It was hard to shake away his worries, his fears, of the damage he caused and the future, how he’d fit in it. But Remus’s words helped. Made the knot in his chest loosen just a bit. “Thank you Remus.” The Duke stared wide eyed at him, suddenly seeming shocked and dazed. “Remus?”

The other jumped, snapping out of whatever spell he was under. “H-huh? Oh!” Dusting of pink coated Remus’ cheeks, stretched up as he smiled brightly. “Sorry. Not used to people thanking me. Also your smile is fucking adorable.” Now it was Patton’s turn for pinkened cheeks. “Oooooh that little blush is cute too! And it goes to your ears!”

Oh, that was embarrassing.

“Stoooooop!” He whined out, burying his now red face into his pillow pet again.

“Oh. Not okay to say, gotcha.” Patton’s head shot up at that, in time to see Remus frown down at his shoes. “You know I just sorta blurt out everything that comes to mind.”

“No, it’s okay.” Patton said, uncurling a little bit more. “I just felt embarrassed that’s all. It’s silly.” Remus’s frown deepened and he shook his head.

“Silly isn’t bad, but your feelings aren’t silly. So if you don’t like it, just say so. It’s not gonna hurt me any.” It was an easy out Remus was giving him, allowing him a chance to put barriers between them. But Patton was trying to move past those, wanted to move past them.

“No, it’s okay. I promise.” Slowly, Patton reached out and stuck out his pinky. “Pinky promise.” Remus snorted at that, but there was a playful gleam in his eyes. He wrapped his own pinky, that thankfully wasn’t from the nose picking hand, around Patton’s and cackled.

“In Japan, when someone makes a pinky promise they have a saying that threatens the person promising to not lie, or else they’ll cut off their finger and punch them ten thousand times and make them swallow a thousand needles.” That was a very gruesome image that Patton wished he hadn’t pictured. “Don’t worry though, I won’t do that to you. I like your hands too much.”

“O-oh?” Remus liked his hands? That was nice.. Maybe? “Why my hands?” “Well I like everything about you Pattycakes. So naturally, hands fall under that category.” Heat returned to Patton’s cheeks, blooming them in pink once more. “Awww the blush is back!” Remus shrieked with glee, kicking his feet wildly. “Wanna watch a movie?” The non sequitur nature of the question had the moral aspect blinking before he could fully process it.

“Um..” He didn’t really want to leave his room just yet, he didn’t feel quite ready. But a movie sounded nice, and he found himself wanting to spend more time in the Duke’s company. “Can we watch it in here?”

“You got it Pattycakes!”

Relief and a surprising… warmth filled him at that, his smile growing a little bit more. “Thanks.”

#intruality #remus sanders #patton sanders #sanders sides #dukality #ts patton #ts remus #ts intruality #moduke #ts moduke #Lucy if ur reading this I hope u like it #bc I did have a writers spiral in the middle of writing this bc I thought it was v bad #but I wanted to get it out to u bc it’s so late ))):#that being said I did not post something I rly think is bad sksnkxkdks I’m rambling

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