#hoping i can force some food down then.. draw.. a lil at least.........

[lilxberry]

Lost Then Found - Bofur

Requested By: @prestongoodplayisbabey​

Could I have a Bofur x reader where the reader gets lost (she’s part of the company) and when Bofur and the rest find her she’s eating a bear she caught with her own hands? I loved ur fic for @iwazoomingouttahere 💕

It’s probably a little different to what you were expecting but who doesn’t love a surprise amiright?! Also, I’m really glad that you liked the other fic so much that you wanted to request something for yourself so I hope that you like it

Warnings: A lil bit sad, wouldn’t say angsty though. Fluff. Mentions of death (animal). Mentions of blood. Mentions Bofur without his hat lmao. I think that’s it, don’t quote me on that.

Words: 2,713

Pairings: Bofur x Reader (female reader)

_______________

It was definitely NOT your fault when you had become separated from the company. Everyone takes a wrong turn occasionally and loses the entire group they were travelling with. Right? It’s not like you heard a strange noise a bit away and went to investigate and when you returned, you found that they pressed on without you. If anything, it’s THEIR fault you were now separated from you. The big knuckleheads are completely oblivious sometimes. Anywho, that isn’t the point. It most certainly, definitely, absolutely WASN’T your fault.

Honestly, you actually had no clue in which direction they took off in but nevertheless, you followed your gut. They’re quite the noisy bunch so it shouldn’t be too hard to find them if you were on the right track. So, when you hear no rowdy group of 13 dwarves, a hobbit and a wizard, you deducted that you either went the wrong way of they finally learnt the meaning of the word silence.

_______________

You huffed as you sat down on the damp ground as you were surrounded by forestry. The towering trees and shrubbery provided great cover for when you slept alone at night. You brought your knapsack that contained your bedroll over to your side where you rested against the mossy tree. You wrestle your bedroll from its confinement within your sack and roll it out, ready for when you rest when it gets darker.

As you finish up sorting your sleeping arrangement, you turned and looked at the slight clearing which you’ve chosen to set up camp before groaning slightly and setting out ready to find whatever you could for kindling the fire you plan to build. You set out slightly away from where you’ve set up your bedroll and knapsack and begin searching the ground for anything that isn’t to damp and will burn.

All you can think about as you collect fuel for your campfire is of the company, more specifically, a certain dwarf who had captured your heart with his whittling, singing and goofy hat that never leaves his head. You sigh, wondering if he even cared that you had disappeared, if any of them cared really. You had been separated for almost a week, surely, they noticed at least.

You shake your head. ‘Of course, they care.’ You groaned as you realised you practically came to a standstill as your mind wandered instead of doing what you intended on doing so. You look at the singular stick within your hand and huff. “It’s gonna be a long night…”

_______________

Bofur’s mood had been off lately, everyone could tell, especially his brother and cousin. They all dearly missed Y/N and were concerned about where she is now and whether she is safe, but it’s Bofur who’s losing his mind over his missing One.

Bofur knew the moment he first laid on the girl that she was his One, he almost instantly confided in his brother and cousin about the subject. He even asked Balins’ ear off over what he should do. He loved how Y/N’s smile always happened to brighten up his day, or how her laugh could lure any man for it was easily mistakable for a sirens call.

He even loved how she was the only person to truly make him flush a deep red. She matched him perfectly when it came to humour, making him flush when a sarcastic, dirty joke passed her lips.

The dwarf sighed as he sat himself down on a log beside his cousin and the young princes’. The three all shared a concerned look towards each other then turned their gaze towards the love stricken, hat wearing whittler.

“Don’t worry Bofur, we’ll find her.” Fíli spoke, placing a comforting hand atop his companions’ shoulder, offering a sympathetic smile.

“Yeah. She’s probably right on our ass knowing her.” Kíli joked, attempting to lighten the mood. Bofur could only offer a solemn shrug and a smile that couldn’t meet his eyes. The brothers turned to Bifur, hoping he would know what to say.

Bifur shook his head and shrugged his shoulders ever so slightly before looking towards his cousin and offering him the most comforting of smiles he could muster up. “We will find her soon. I promise cousin. We will find your One.”

Bofurs’ smile a tad bit more genuine at his cousins’ words. He sat up that little bit straighter before standing and facing towards Bombur who stood near the campfire. “I’m gonna see if Bombur needs help lads, thanks.” And with that, he slugged his way over, looking down towards the ground and sighing out deeply.

“Where the bloody hell are ya, lass…”

_______________

You head away from your camp and towards the deeper parts of the woods, ready to hunt for your meal. Crouching low to the ground, you spot small tracks, a rabbit most likely. You slowly and quietly followed the small tracks, hoping to come across meat for your food.

A small crackle within the bushes before you forced you to snap your head up. You smiled victoriously as you raised your bow and arrow, steadying your breathing, bringing your elbow back past your ear, forcing you to stare down the length of the piercing wood with a steel pointed head. ‘Got you, ya bastard.’

Just before you released your arrow to send the arrow piercing through the air, the small rabbit emerged from behind the bush, standing on its hind legs, revealing itself as not a small rabbit like you intended to find but a large, burly bear covered in a dark, fur coat.

You fell backwards from your crouched position on to your behind, clamping a hand over your mouth, your breathing becoming increasingly heavier, almost hyperventilating. Your eyes were wide with fear as the bear raised its snout into the air and sniffs, almost as if it were searching for you. You slowly crawled away backwards, putting some distance between you and the beast.

Your efforts had practically been futile.

The bear whipped its head towards you in a flash, staring at you for moment, a moment where you could only hold your breath and pray to whatever God could hear you. The beast released a loud, ground shaking roar, a heavy growl underlining it before it burst out into a run towards you. You scrambled to stand quickly and take lengthy steps back as you drew your sword, unsheathing it from its position at your hip, your bow and arrow long forgotten on the dirt ground.

It lunges towards you and you let a piercing scream tear its way through your throat. You drove your sword up into the chest cavity of the beast as it fell down from the force of its attack, impaling the beast on to your weapon.

It bawled out and whimpered in pain as it laid dying atop of your smaller form. You struggled to worm yourself out from underneath the beast and laid yourself beside it, sprawled out like a starfish and chest heaving heavily as your tried to catch your breath. “I’m sorry…” you whispered to the bear, a tear escaping from the corner of your eye.

You rolled on to your side and slowly came to a stand. You retrieved your dagger from your belt and stepped closer to the corpse. Embedding the blade into the bear, you began to skin and salvage any possible meat from the beast, your body quickly being covered in the luke-warm crimson liquid.

“I’m so, so sorry…”

_______________

The company had sat around the fire, eating whatever Bombur had been able to form into an appetising broth when they heard the loud roar of a beast. They all momentarily paused, all either halting their chewing or stilling the movement of the spoon coming closer to their mouths.

Their eyes travelled along each other as they sat a few moments in silence, some slowly lowering their bowls down, cautious if any over the few decibels they were making would draw whatever it was to them. But once they heard the feminine scream moments after, they jumped up and raced towards whatever they hoped to find.

Everyone was hopeful that it was their missing lass, all the while they wished it weren’t. The scream could never be a good sign. Bofur was the first to spring to action and burst through the treelines to head deeper into the woodland. All he could think is that his One could be in danger and he isn’t with her to protect her.

The others followed suit, rushing towards whatever it was. They dodged and weaved through trees and climbed over and under branched and roots. They ran and ran until they came across the carcass of a bear, a large one at that. It was partially missing some fur along with most of the meat that once encased its bones.

They searched the area, high and low. As Kíli crouched low towards the ground, he noticed the strange disturbances the ground had gone through. He assumed it was that of someone shuffling backwards in a vulnerable state. He brought the scuffle evident in the dirt to Thorins’ and the companies attention.

They backtracked the marks in the dirt and found where they had started, near a bush. They continued to search but one discovery had sent everyone into a state of panic and fear. Your bow and a singular arrow.

“She must’ve been here. You cannot deny it is hers!”

Finding your own tracks that came from your boots hadn’t been difficult to do. So, with that, they hastily followed your footprints, double and triple checking they were on the right track. A million thoughts whirled through their heads. What had happened? Were you alright? Had you been injured?

Bofur felt an array of emotions as he tailed the company, perplexed about what he had hoped to find. He so desperately hoped it was you, but what if they found you in a condition they so desperately didn’t want to come across. What he didn’t want to come across. He would never forgive himself if you had been injured or worse, never forgiving himself for not being able to protect you. His woman, his One.

He prayed to Mahal all throughout their search for you and soon, he found his prayer answered. There you were, sat beside a small campfire atop a thick coat of black fur, turning large chunks of meat over the fire, roasting it for your meal, all the while you were still covered nearly head to toe in nearly crisp dry blood.

Bofur dropped his weapon to the floor and rushed over to you, causing you to jump near enough a foot off the ground. “Mahal, Y/N, I’ve been worried sick!” He enveloped you in a bone crushing hug, dis-concerned about the blood, your shocked face and the other members who watched on. He pulled back ever so slightly and cup your face in between his hands, staring at you intensely. “Where did you run off to?!”

You swallowed down the dry lump that had formed into your throat and looked into his eyes, the other members of the company momentarily forgotten. “I uh-I heard a noise, so I went to check it out and when I came back, you guys weren’t there…” you trailed off, tears forming in your (E/C) orbs, threatening to spill at a moments notice. “I…I thought you guys didn’t care…”

The dam had broken and you now openly sobbed, tears had begun to stream down your face like salty waterfalls. Bofur had reacted quickly, bringing you into yet another hug, seeming more desperate than the last. You clung on to him like a scared child would cling on to their mother as you wept and wept into his chest. The other members all watched with saddened eyes, their hearts breaking the slightest at the thought of you thinking they hadn’t cared that you had disappeared.

“We’re right here lass, I’m right here. It’s okay, I’ve got you.” Bofur whispered sweet, soothing words in your ear as he laid a gentle kiss upon your forehead. “I ain’t ever letting you out of my sight ever again, ya hear?” You sniffled and even released the faintest of giggles as you lifted your head up to look Bofur in the eye. He smiled down at you and you could do nothing but return it with a tiny one of your own. “Aye, there’s my lass and that beautiful smile. Not as beautiful as mine though.” He spoke to you with such love and care.

You had laughed once more, always thankful for Bofur and his attempt at making others smile. “I missed you.” You whispered, leaning your forehead against his own.

He beamed towards you as the words passed your lips. “I missed you more, amrálíme.” He spoke not even a decibel louder than you before planting his lips firmly against your own. You froze, shocked by what was happening, but before you knew it, you melted into the kiss and matched his passion and love, raising your arms to wrap loosely around his neck.

The company all had smiles etched across their faces, some of them cheering and realising high pitched wolf whistles. You two broke the kiss as if remembering you were surrounded by others. You flushed a deep red whilst Bofur only seemed to beam towards you once more.

“I would like it if you would allow me to court ya and braid your hair, lass.” He spoke with such confidence that it almost made you neglect the pink tint his cheeks adorned. All you could do was nod and smile sheepishly as your blush intensified. He grinned from ear to ear and kissed you once more, one you happily returned.

Parting, he stood and extended his hand down towards you. You placed your smaller hand into his own before his encased yours and pulled you gently to stand beside him. As soon as you gained your balance, Bombur had rushed towards you and crushed you in his own embrace, him clearly missing you a lot just like his brother. You chuckled as you hugged him back, the company also finding Bomburs affection amusing. It even elicited a deep, throaty chuckle from the ever-brooding Thorin.

You all headed back towards the camp the company had set up, not without grabbing your belonging along with the meat and fur you obtained for the bear you had the misfortune of running into. Bofur had a protective arm around you the entire time, not even removing himself from your side once you had reached the camp.

Bombur and Bifur had taken it upon themselves to cook yet another meal for the company, seeing as you had salvaged much meat from the beast. You all sat and ate, they barraged you with questions about the week you had been separated from them. They even asked about the bear you had taken down and how you lugged so much its meat back towards your makeshift sleeping area.

As you talked and talked with the company on how you had no clue if you were even heading in the right direction towards them, Bofur stared at you lovingly, afraid that if he were to blink, you would become separated once again.

He thanked Mahal a million times over in his head, thankful that they had found you again, that he had found you again. He smiled, removing his hat which he then proceeded to place atop of yours. It fell past your eye, obstructing your vision, causing you to push it up whilst you giggled.

Bofur released a chuckled of his own as he brough you further into his side and rest his head on top of yours. “Amrálíme?”

You smiled as you hear his hushed use of the affectionate name. “Yes Bofur?”

“I love you.”

You turned and looked up at him through your eyelashes, that hat of his threatening to fall over your eyes once again and smiled. “I love you.” You snuggled further into his warm, loving embrace and you both sighed in happiness and contentment.

He’ll be damned if he ever got separated from his One ever again. And Mahal help whoever stands in his way.

_______________

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First fic uploaded in 2021, lets gooooo!

It’s a little different to what the requester probably envisioned but the overall plot is still there so all I can hope is that they like it

BRO I HATED THAT I HAD TO WRITE ABOUT KILLING A BEAR, THAT SHIT SAD BRUH lmao

I hope you all enjoy

As always, constructive criticism and requests are welcomed and greatly appreciated :D

#bofur #bofur x #bofur x reader #bofur the dwarf #x reader #x female reader #x fem reader #x fem!reader #the hobbit #the hobbit fic #the hobbit fanfic #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit x #the hobbit x reader #fluff #thorin's company #thorin's company x reader

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers GRAND EDITION for Switch ;; More, Blood ー Yuma Dark [Prologue]

Monologue

ーー That burning feeling inside my throat,

is the sole thing which vividly remains in my memory.

Crackling flames flare up. 

People scatter about, tears streaming down their faces

as they call out someone’s name.

And I, ran straight towards

said fire.

It’s hot. So incredibly, unbearably hot.

Yet, I desperately dashed forward.

Swallowed by the flames and smoke, 

I could barely still see my own feet with my dried out eyes.

I could barely even breathe,

as the heat assaulted my throat.

Even so, I attempt to shout.

ーー Wanting to find someone.

ーー Wanting to save someone.

???: ( ...Who? )

( Who am I looking for amidst the flames? )

???: ーー ...ar!

???: ( I don’t know. I can’t remember. )

( Who was I searching for? Where was I? For whoーー? )

???: Bear!

ー A young Yuma wakes up and finds himself in town

Lucks: You’re awake?

Bear: ...Boss...

Lucks: Are you okay? You were groaning in your sleep again. (1)

Bear: Yeah...

*Rustle*

Bear: ...What’s with that face, huh? Whatcha grinnin’ for?

Lucks: It’s because you always look like you’re about to cry when you sleep. What’s wrong? Did you dream about your mommy again?

Bear: ...As if! Don’t treat me like a kid!

Lucks: Haha! My bad, my bad! Come on, eat this. It’s today’s grub.

ー He throws some food at him

Bear: ...Where did you pick up fresh bread?

Lucks: I didn’t pick it up, I secretly took it. Of course...Making sure nobody saw me?

You should hurry up and learn how to steal food (2) without getting chased after as well. I’m sure you’re fed up with getting beat up after being caught?

Bear: ...

Lucks: Well, it’s a common beginner’s mistake. Come on, just take a bite already. I’m sure you’re starving after tossing and turning around in your sleep?

Bear: ...Thanks for the food.

Lucks: Now I think about it, quite some time has passed since you hit me up, huh? You still can’t remember anything?

Bear: ...Nothing.

Lucks: I see. Well, if only it was that easy, huh? Have your burns healed yet?

Bear: They’ve gotten way better thanks to the medicine you gave me.

Lucks: I see. Isn’t it rough to be missing your memories?

Bear: ...Well...It is, but...

But, I don’t want to force myself to remember either. I feel...comfortable staying here with you after all.

Lucks: You get to eat without getting beaten up as well, huh?

Bear: ...That’s not what I meant!

Lucks: Haha, I’m joking. Well, if that’s what you want, you can stay here as long as you’d like. The gang likes you as well.

It’s just...Things may not stay this peaceful for long.

Bear: Did something happen?

Lucks: There’s been suspicious movements amongst one of the gangs at the neighboring city. The one lead by that nasty guy sporting a mohawk (3).

Bear: Aah, that idiot whose hair looks like a chicken’s?

Lucks: Yeah...He has already done a number on three of our gang members. If they won’t back down, we won’t be able to avoid a conflict forever.

Bear: Hmph! I’ll take them on at any time! They may think they’re strong together, but they’re no match for us!

Lucks: Haha. When it comes to your built and vigor, you really are formidable. You’re totally one of us now.

...Honestly, I know that continuing doing this won’t solve anything.

Bear: Boss?

Lucks: Say, Bear? Do you like this city?

Bear: ...What do you mean?

Lucks: Exactly as I said it. Take look at those worn down streets and houses. ...This city has started to rot.

All of the aristocrats and politicians keep on running their mouths about revolution or reforms and how it’s all in the best interest of the people but...This is the reality we have to face.

In the end, it’s only the rich people who get to benefit of it. (4) On the other hand, the number of children like us who end up on the streets is only rising. 

But no matter how ashy and grey the city gets, only the sky is still...

Look, it’s this blue...Underneath the blue sky who doesn’t belong to anyone, status or family does not matter.

I believe that all humans are equal and deserve to be free.

...However, I am also aware that such utopian dreams will never come true in this rotten city.

Bear: ...

Lucks: That’s why I’ve decided I will guide this country towards the right path.

To achieve this, I have to fight my way to the top. Of course, using a method other than violence.

Bear: ...Seems like you have a long way ahead of you.

Lucks: It’s frustrating but I’m still a child right now. I’m not stupid enough to think I can win against adults who have political power. I know that this will be a long fight.

But you know, I also want to know just how far a single orphan raised in the filthy slums can go.

Now that I’ve told you all of this, you’ll have to watch me till the very end, Bear. From your VIP seat right next to me.

Bear: Hah, I just hope you don’t drag me into the grave with you.

Lucks: Just give up if that happens. You were out of luck, getting picked up by me.

Bear: ...Guess so. I do feel like I owe you one. 

A huge debt, for giving me a place I can call my own...That is.

Fine then, I’ll stick with you. Until the day...This world changes.

ー The screen fades to black

Yuma: ( Exactly, that was our dream. )

( For us brats who had no money, let alone power, changing the country, or even the world, that was the real Utopia. )

( ...However, it’s strange. )

( Boss, I’m sure you can do it. That’s what I ended up thinking. )

Monologue

A city thorn apart by the destruction of war.

in the very corner of the slums laying in the very back of said city,

that is where I lived at that time.

About my life before that,

I could not remember a single thing.

At some point, I found myself laying on the ground,

of this filthy back-alley. Why was I here? 

Where did I come from?

I did not even know who I was. 

That’s the kind of situation I found myself in.

ーー Yo, what’s up?

A young boy called out for my puzzled self,

greeting with a tone,

as if we had been long-time pals.

That was Lucks.

ーー Got nowhere to go? 

Come with me then.

The moment he spoke those words without asking about what happened,

without a single hint of hesitation. 

I was at a loss for words, 

deeply moved by this boy.

I felt indebted, as well as respect for him,

even a little envy...

But the most accurate way to describe it, would probably be admiration.

And that is how,

I decided to live alongside this person,

who was the leader of a gang.

Based on my physical appearance,

I was given the nickname ‘Bear’.

ー The flashback ends as the scene shifts to the hallway

Yui: Haah...

( It may have been decided by drawing a card, but how could I have picked such a scary-looking person... )

( He punched me when I was brought here, and he goes around calling people ‘Sow’... )

( I wonder if I’ll be okay, having someone like that watch over me...? )

Yuma: Hold it, Sow! (5)

Yui: ...!

Yuma: Don’t just be wanderin’ ‘round like ya own this place! If ya wanna have a look ‘round, at least ask me for permission first!

Yui: ( Speak of the devil...! )

Yuma: Che. Ya really not tryin’ to hide that you’re displeased, huh? ...I’m not exactly thrilled to have to babysit ya either, ya know!?

But well, guess I have no other choice. 

Oi, I’ll only tell ya this once so listen up. These are the rules attached to becomin’ my personal toy.

Yui: Toy!?

Yuma: I’m not wrong, right? My own toy which I can use as I please, whenever I want to. That’s what ya are, right?

Yui: I-It’s my first time hearing about that...!

Yuma: Do I really need to go out of my way to tell ya? That’s what Sows (6) are for, right?

Yui: ( ‘Toy’ and ‘Sow’...That’s just too cruel... )

Yuma: What? Got a problem with it, huh?

Yui: R-Rather than a problem...

Yuma: Aahn!?

Yui: ...!

( Uu...Yuma-kun really is scary with that tall physique and loud voice of his...! )

Yuma: ...

*THUD*

Yui: !!

Yuma: Can’t hear ya very well!? This toy came with a mouth, didn’t it!? Speak up a lil’ more, aahn!?

Yui: ( He’s even more scary when he towers over me like that...! )

I-It’s...nothing...

Yuma: Che, you’re so annoyin’. If ya can’t say, don’t try and mutter a halfbaked response.

This is exactly why I hate chicks who just stand there pissin’ their pants the whole time.

You’re on the same level as a farm’s pig if ya can’t even voice yer own opinion out loud.

Listen up, Sow. Watchin’ those kind of people makes me gag.

Yui: ( He doesn’t have to put it so bluntly... )

( ...However, it’s true that I’m frightened and that I can’t talk back... )

Yuma: Haah...What a fuckin’ pain in the ass.

If it turns out ya don’t taste better than Sugar-chan, I really got the short end of the stick.

Yui: ( Sugar-chan...? Could he be talking about sugar cubes? Also, he’s eating them plain... )

( I wonder if he likes sweet stuff...? )

Yuma: Well, I’ve got no other choice now that I’m chosen. There...!

Yui: Ow...!?

( He strongly wrapped his hand around my throat...!? )

Yuma: Woah there, don’t make a fuss. I’m actually holdin’ back so I don’t snap it in two.

If ya struggle too much, I might end up puttin’ in some strength.

I might just break yer neck even if I didn’t mean to?

Yui: ( I don’t want that...! )

( But it hurts and it’s hard to breathe, so I can’t just keep still...! )

*Thud*

Yuma: Did I not just tell ya to keep still!? ...Che, ya really are a pain. Come on!

*Rustle*

Yui: ( ...He loosened up a little. It’s somewhat less painful like thiーー )

Yuma: Dont get the wrong idea.

You’re a damn infuriatin’ woman. But it seems like ya are the chosen Eve after all. I’ll handle ya with care for now.

Well, either way...Ya chose me. Even if it’s a drag, I can’t alter said truth.

Yui: ( I didn’t choose him myself though... )

Yuma: That being said, ya better try yer best to become a toy to my liking, capiche? 

Yui: Why...me...?

Yuma: Hah. Haven’t those Sakamaki’s already treated ya badly plenty of times anyway?

Yui: That’s...

Yuma: What? Tryin’ to play hard to get now? Don’t cause me any more trouble!

*THUD*

Yuma: Come on. If ya understand, do as I say. If so, I’ll treat ya decently. Hehe.

Yui: ( ...! )

Yuma: Looks like ya don’t like the ring of that? Heh. Perfect. 

Ya should have just been honest back then. Don’t be havin’ regrets now...!

ー Yuma bites her

Yui: !!

( Ow...! He suddenly...! )

Yuma: Nn...Nn?

Yui: ( Uu... )

Yuma: ...Haah...Heeh...Guess this is to be expected of Eve? Ya taste quite nice.

Nn...Hah...Amazin’...The blood’s so sweet...Just like sugar...No, even sweeter?

I wasn’t lookin’ forward to havin’ to watch over some chick’s sad ass but...Hehe, in this case, it might actually be kinda fun.

Yui: Please, stop...

Yuma: Hah, already havin’ regrets? Didn’t I tell ya...!?

Yui: Uu, ah...!

Yuma: ...Hah...

Yui: ( He keeps on thrusting them in and pulling back out...I’m becoming numb from the pain... )

Yuma: Hehe...I think it’s annoyin’ when a woman goes quiet after I yell at her, but I don’t dislike chicks who keep silent durin’ this kinda thing?

I wouldn’t mind if ya expressed yer desires, or let me hear some nice cries...tho!

ー He pushes Yui away

*Rustle*

Yui: Kyah...!

*Thud*

Yuma: I’ve had enough. I’m sleepy too so I’m done for today.

Well, guess now ya just have to try yer hardest to be in my good grace, huh?

Yui: ...

Yuma: Hehe...See ya, Sow.

ー Yuma leaves

Yui: ( ...No matter where I go, I always get treated like this. )

( Although I still can’t believe...I actually want to have my blood sucked myself. )

( If I could, I’d honestly love to go to a world without any Vampires... )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) The verb うなされる or ‘unasareru’ refers to both ‘having a nightmare/bad dream’ as well as the noises and movements accompanying it.

(2) He uses the term ‘to supply’ or ‘to raise’ here, but it is obvious from the context that they are stealing food. 

(3) They describe his hairstyle as トサカ頭 or ‘tosaka atama’ with ‘tosaka’ referring to a cockscomb.

(4) Literally he says they are the ones who ‘get to suckle the sweet nectar’. 

(5) そこの or ‘soko no’ is a set phrase shouted when you want to stop somenoe in their tracks. You will often hear it being used by the police and such when they spot someone suspicious. Usually it is combined with 君 or ‘kimi’, in which case you can translate it as ‘You over there!’. In this case, I had to alter it a little because he uses Yui’s nickname ‘Sow’. 

(6) The word メスブタ or ‘mesubuta’ technically means ‘Sow’. However, it is also a common slang word to call somewhere a ‘whore’ or ‘slut’.

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<- [ Yuma prologue ] [ Dark 01 ] ->

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #yuma mukami #more blood #diabolik lovers translation #mbyumadarkprolog

[sugar-petals]

BTS Scenario: Taking Care of Them When They Have a Cold

↳ ♡ NOTE ⇁ time for fluff. autumn season is coming, let me set the mood right here, we’re going cozy 🍂

warnings ⚠️ hurt/comfort, brief mention of sexual tension

⌈jimin⌋ ⇢ Jimin’s cold is unusually subtle. In terms of visible signs, it’d take some time to notice it for someone who doesn’t know him or doesn’t check just how heavy another person’s breath is going. But feedback? You will definitely get. Compared to how he’s pouting about it, which will melt your heart is what I’m saying, the symptoms are understated in comparison to the other members. Taehyung’s cough can shatter an entire neighborhood, Jimin sneezing is as graceful as a gazelle. Mind you, his nose is runny, and the slight fatigue of the first two days isn’t negligible, but the major thing to actively mend is more psychological than physical. In other words, his body does its thing, you don’t have to overextend yourself. 

That’s what you have to figure out first to really take care of him properly. After laying him down and bringing both snacks and liquids, talking is what he needs rather than ten thousand types of medications and cool towels all over him. Jimin doesn’t want to see you become sick as well so you don’t sit up close, but at talking range, and you text a lot during the day while you work. He’s worried about not being able to practice and hopes the cold doesn’t show in his appearance. You assure him it takes five days at best and he is okay again and promise a lot of kisses. With that prospect, healing is even sweeter. And, you know the guy, Jimin misses seducing you, so.

⌈taehyung⌋ ⇢ Absolutely enjoys being babied ten times out of ten. Nothing better than you preparing a hot herbal bath. Rosemary, thyme, camomile. The steam spiraling off the water surface looks so relaxing in the candlelight, the classical music you put on sways him into a trance, he lays there for half an hour just motionless. He gets a little tray of coconut cookies on the bed stand, you play the guitar to him, you massage his feet before he sleeps… Which, and he hates admitting it, makes it nice to be sick. By all means not because of the fever, but the extra attentions, the hot chocolate for bed. Taehyung thinks about that twice and concludes something. He doesn’t want to get a cold just to receive this treatment. Not for his own health nor to worry or overwhelm you, he’s not gonna guilt-trip you into being a servant. 

So, you agree for later: It’s good to treat him sporadically just because, whenever and wherever, cue Shakira. That Taehyung so enjoys a good healing and mending time and it just explodes when you both have a reason to, that’s rather something to expand to the whole relationship. Taehyung will do the exact spoiling for you, with a romantic twist the way you know him. It doesn’t need a sickness to resort to doing nice things for your partner. At the end of the day, the body will remember it and get sick again because it sees what it gets through being ill. That’s something to squarely avoid doing, a random gesture is good for its own sake, amen.

⌈yoongi⌋ ⇢ Grumpy, murmuring, disgruntled he can’t work without getting a headache, needs a lot of silence to recover so he curls up on his own with earphones in and fifty playlists on repeat. He’s like tch, only thing I need is tiger balm to whip me back into shape. Or… wait. Wait a second. A cup of steaming hot coffee with extra foam he will not reject. Or a plate of fried rice. Anything fried and super crispy, really. Yoongi likes those things, especially when prepared by you. Nothing is more honoring. Actually? I’ll change the initial statement. Yoongi does accept some help. You simply gotta find out his catnip I mean favorite dishes and either know the place to order it from or have some kitchen basics down. Nothing super fancy though, it doesn’t need a God’s Menu. The right seasoning does the trick already. 

He wants it mega spicy, sweating out the cold is the way to go said Yoongi’s mom back in the day so he goes by that motto. Love starts in the stomach for felines. If another BTS member drops take-out at the door, even better, that uplifts him greatly. When he munches, that’s the most gratifying thing in the world. Yoongi wants you to eat with him by the bed so that means chili in the bedroom but screw it. All that food and you cranking up the heater distracts Yoongi from his cold and some head pats have him on his way to recovery. And, by the way. He’s kinda turned on by you cooking for him so… the frustration is real, you’re gonna fuck like rabbits once he’s okay again.

★ ⌈namjoon⌋ ⇢ The friendly giant will stay in denial about his cough for at least three days and walk around with way too much medicine in his system. He begs for someone to relieve him, mostly himself, but all those sky-high standards are in the way. Responsibility! Hard work and endurance! Solve it in your head! What is the spiritual reason for colds? How many pills keep you awake for an all-nighter to write an album in one go? What’s next on the schedule? So it goes on, you know the deal with Joonie. You have to kick that leader butt so he finally enters the healing cave under the sheets. Don’t kick too hard though, he doesn’t have Jimin-level cushions. He topples over into his sheets fast anyway, he’s that level of exhausted from his own suppression. 

The story goes on, Namjoon feels extremely guilty for getting pampered and still ponders the reasons why he is ill rather than slowing down a minute and closing his laptop for a hot second. It gets a little awkward unless you figure out your secret weapon. What he feels better with is you reading him stories while he rests on the sofa. I’m not kidding. Or if you’re busy or he wants to be alone, audiobooks. That input is like a lullaby to Namjoon who gets knocked out by the soft whispering only to descend into 12 hours of sleep. Ah, he’s namjooning. Yep. His cold will force him into resting, but by the time he recovers, he is six books wiser and has had the pleasure of listening to your voice which he finds soothing. Thankful he is, anticipate an expensive present and flowers.

★ ⌈jungkook⌋ ⇢ Meal and fluid intake: Quantity explosion! Wow, wow, and wow again, the sheer amount that he can snack and turn into what seems even more muscle and more sweetness. Guinness World Record. He knows his system is currently resetting, he wants to hand it the building blocks, he knows the math. Yes, even sick Jungkook is the cutest foodie in the world. Yes, he will eat his veggies. He worries about not being able to work out so you at least help him stretch his legs ever so slightly in bed. He’s missing his boxing gloves like crazy, he wants to see the members in the practice room, he wants his milk. The latter is easy to get for him, and FaceTime comes in handy. 

Namjoon does a little motivational speech, and Jungkook feels better almost instantly. Later on, you have to scold him — well, just a little bit — for getting up in all that enthusiasm to do some of his routine on the second day, but he already knows it’s not good for him to get his heart rate up like that. He patiently snuggles in a cocoon of duvets with only his eyes being visible. Until, finally, his red lil’ nose goes back to normal and his lungs feel a lot lighter. Jungkook really hates being dizzy, so it’s a weight off his hunky shoulders all right. Then, he can join you at the dinner table for a double portion of extra Parmesan Spaghetti, and you settle on the couch to bingewatch romantic animes and any Studio Ghibli movie in history.

★ ⌈jin⌋ ⇢ It simply can’t be helped, he even wants to make this funny. Humor really is a never-ending well, Jin is Spongebob’s long lost cousin if you go by his amount of meme talk. He calls himself Rudolph the Red-Nosed Jindeer, stuffs handkerchiefs into his nostrils, draws smileys on his knees with the cream usually meant for a dry philtrum (he now has very hydrated knees, how about that), does impossible contortions to find the right sleeping or reading position. Honestly, you don’t really have to take much care of him nor worry, Jin will cure himself through laughter. The power of positive emotion. Entertainment is nothing to provide for, he’s a one-man show after all. Jin is the least bored when he’s sick among the group, however! It needs someone else to exchange with, you know. No punchline without an audience. Listening is the best thing. 

Sit, lean back, see what he has to say. The only thing you gotta actively do is stop him from choking on his own spit after a particularly dead-on joke. Maybe it’s introducing some room for serious time that helps Jin enter a different track. I can imagine that. Some talk about memories, talk about sorrows and issues. Jin is a complete man, but he still has plenty of ’em, demons don’t evade handsome people. And those need to be talked through in a silent minute. Jin also enjoys movie nights with a cup of tea in one hand and syrup in the other, that’s the go-to way to unwind. You can finally go all out and pour him his tea, bake for him, serve some self-made popcorn, extra sticky and sweet, oh yum.

★ ⌈hoseok⌋ ⇢ If Jimin and Hobi ever get colds at the same time, this will be the poutiest contest. They’re the most vocal about it in the group. Hoseok, and that will come to surprise you a little, becomes needy. Not at the beginning where he’s confused and emotional about what’s going on with him (someone who works this hard and needs a fully functioning body is thrown out of their lane even by the slightest symptom), but shortly after. You’ll come to understand how sensitive his body is, almost as perceptive as Jungkook’s actually. His body blows up with a strong fever, a hot man heating up even more is just an explosion of physics. 

He needs handkerchiefs, he needs tons of water, he needs music to distract him a little, he needs a heating blanket for his feet once the fever is gone. Granted, every sick person depends on those things, but Hoseok is someone who calls out of the bedroom often because he ran out. He’s not afraid to ask for things unlike Namjoon who would refuse out of overt politeness. You certainly have a lot to do because his cold comes in strong so it’s important you enjoy taking care of him and don’t do it out of obligation. Quality time is what we’re talking about here. It’s not about you doing the things, it’s about the presence. That’s why Hoseok will use his money well and always order proper take-out that’s not just classic fast food, you don’t have to cook or anything.

related: putting bts to sleep after a hard day 

© 2017-2020 submissive-bangtan. all rights reserved. no reposts allowed.

#bts headcanons #bts scenarios #bts scenario #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts #bangtan #bts imagine #bts domestic au #bts hurt and comfort

[daily-dose-of-sweets]

Cat Lover

James Aubrey X Reader

Summary: Based on Season 10 Episode 9 “The Mutilations of the Master Manipulator” You are there when they find the little orange tabby, Skinner. When Hodgins can’t take him, you offer up your home. You just have to convince Aubrey that it’s a good idea.

Words: 1444

“It sounds like something’s in here…” Hodgins mumbles softly as he turns his flashlight towards the other side of the garage.

You tilt your head, eyes scanning for any signs of movement.

“Whatever it is, it could be the source of the predation we found,” you ponder out loud, thinking back to all the marks on the body.

Hodgins hushes you, and out of the silence you hear a quiet creaking coming from the cabinets. Your eyes widen, darting over to meet his. There is definitely something in here. With a quick shared nod, the two of you creep forward, footsteps silent on the concrete. You keep your flashlight focused on the door as he reaches out.

“One…”

Your shoulders tense slightly.

“Two…”

What could be in there? A possum? A skunk? Neither sound too scary but the suspense is putting your nerves on end.

“Three!”

Hodgins rips the door open.

“Meew”

You gasp as an orange, furry head pokes out from the cabinet, wide eyes darting between you and the entomologist. Oh my gosh.

“It’s just a cute little kitty!” You squeak as Hodgins reaches up and scruffs the little guy, pulling him down into his arms.

What an adorable little cat! You crowd in close, gently scratching beneath his fuzzy chin. He immediately starts purring like a motor, eyes squinting with content. Gosh, how can one cat be so cute! You could literally die.

“Poor things probably been trapped in here ever since Fairbanks died,” Hodgins says.

A small pout pulls at your lips when you think about it, “I can’t imagine being locked in such a small space for that long. You poor baby…What are we going to do with you?”

You can’t just drop him off at a shelter, there’s no telling what kind of home he’ll go to! Or if they’ll even keep him. The poor cat’s already been through so much.

“I would say I’d take Skinner here,” Hodgin hums, frowning as he looks down at the creature, “but unfortunately, Michael Vincent is allergic. What about you?”

You take a moment to think it over. You’re currently living in an apartment with Aubrey, your boyfriend. It’s not super big...but Skinner would probably be happy. You’d get him plenty of toys and the fanciest cat food, he’d live like a king! Plus, the idea of snuggling down on the couch with the orange fuzzball to read a book seems too good to pass up. Yup, you’re convinced! Now you just have to convince Aubrey...later.

“I’ll take him home,” you grin and sweep the cat out Hodgins’ arms, letting him curl up into your chest, dirty fur and all, “Once we get him a good bath and make sure he’s clear of evidence at least.”

What a perfect little friend to have! You’ll get him a nice collar with a bell, a cat tower that reaches all the way to the ceiling, and maybe even some of those designer shelves meant just for cats! Then hopefully he won’t get bored while you and Aubrey are at work.

“I found a tablet in the victim’s house,” Aubrey declares as he comes into the garage, stealing your attention away from your new roommate, “I think this might explain…”

The brunet comes to pause when he looks up to find you, cat tucked comfortably in your arms.

“That’s a cat…”

“Correction!” You grin, albeit a little sheepishly, “This is Skinner.”

Aubrey spends a moment just staring at you, like he’s processing what you just said and the fact that you seem to tighten your grip stubbornly around the cat. Choosing to not address it just now, he clears his throat and brings his attention back to the tablet.

“I think this might explain all the screaming golden girls heard.”

With that, the topic is dropped for the moment, and you all crowd around the screen to watch a video play out of a young woman pleading with the camera.

---

“(Y/n)...I’m not so sure about this.”

Aubrey addresses you at the entrance to the lab, arms cross over his chest. You trot up to him, Skinner tucked in your arms, this time clean and well-fed. Aubrey’s light eyes stay locked on the cat, hesitant but not completely closed off. This is your chance!

“Please Aubrey?” You pull out your best puppy dog eyes, looking up at him pleadingly through your lashes, “Look at him, he’s so handsome...almost as handsome as you.”

The faintest flush spreads up his neck as he glances away from you, tense shoulders loosening a fraction. A grin breaks out across your lips. He’ll totally break.

You tug at one of Aubrey’s arms, forcing it down so he softly grips your waist as you lean into his side. His gaze turns back to you sharply, brimming with suspicion.

“Imagine it, both of us on the couch, curled up in a blanket, with a huge tub of popcorn while we watch a movie, and lil’ old Skinner here snoozing away between us, purring and happy because he has a home again,” you persuade him softly, “We can be his home, Jay.”

Aubrey begrudgingly looks down at the tabby, eyes narrowed as if he’s trying to decide if the small, fuzzy creature is a threat. Skinner tilts his chin up, sensing the gaze on him, and turns his wide, green eyes on the FBI agent. You watch intently as Aubrey clenches his jaw, holds it for a moment, before the tension completely drains from his body. You can barely contain an excited squeal when he reaches down and gently scratches the top of Skinner’s head before smoothing a hand over his back.

“He is pretty cute…” he admits quietly, as if he doesn’t want you to hear him.

“Is that a yes, then?”

There’s a solid moment of silence before Aubrey finally nods, “Yah, we can take him home.”

The excitement finally takes over as you go into a little dance, careful not to upset the tabby though. You wrap your free arm around your boyfriend, leaning up onto your tippy toes to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you, Jay!!”

Aubrey can’t help but grin when faced with your overwhelming joy. He watches as you lift the cat in both hands, giving him a giant kiss on his fuzzy head before wrapping him in your arms again. A small chuckle rumbles through his chest at the slightly perturbed face the cat pulls.

“Looks like I have two boys to shower with affection now, huh? Isn’t that right Skinner?” You ask, purely talking to the cat, before you side glance at Aubrey, “Hope no one gets jealous…”

The bunet laughs again, shaking his head as he tugs you back to his side. You giggle as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head, hand gripping your hip a little tighter than before.

“The moment you start giving that cat more attention than me, I’m kicking him out.”

There’s a hint of humor in his words, so you know it’s a joke. Either way, you could never love anyone or anything more than you love Aubrey. He’s been there for you in all the good and bad times. Through rough cases and loss. You may love Skinner a lot already, but no one will ever match up to Aubrey.

“Ready to go home, Jay? Get Skinner all set up, maybe watch Aristocats, so he feels welcomed,” you suggest as you curl further into your boyfriend’s side.

“Of course, we can’t have him getting the wrong idea, after all.” Aubrey stays close as the two of you make your way out of the Jeffersonian, arm still wrapped around your waist, drawing you closer when the winter cold hits you. “Oh, by the way! I heard about this new restaurant-”

Your heart flutters at the excited gleam that fills his eyes when he starts telling you about the newest place that opened down the road from your apartment. You can’t help it, he looks so cute when he gets excited about something. You really got so lucky, meeting Aubrey and falling in love.

Skinner starts purring loudly against your chest, and when you look down, his eyes are set adoringly on your boyfriend as he continues to talk, telling you all about the menu and possible golden finds. You obviously don’t know what the cat is thinking, but you’re sure he already loves the man just as much as you do. It’s hard not to, after all.

It seems like you’ll be the one competing for Aubrey’s attention, not the other way around.

#Bones #bonestv #bones reader insert #james aubrey #aubrey #x reader #reader insert #james aubrey x reader #aubrey x reader #s10e9

[ambersky0319]

Remus ducks out because of how everyone else makes him feel, and by the time they notice, it's because Deceit is panicking. Patton tries to say it's fine that he's gone, that he was only bad for Thomas, untill Roman grows sick and looses his color. Deceit tries to leave to find Remus but Patton tries to put it off thinking Roman will suddenly get better.while that happens Logan leaves and journeys into the falling apart imagination, to find a young Remus crying, yelling out for Roman -Rayne

Warnings: Unsympathetic Patton, Minor blood(it’s literally brought up once in very very little detail), lmk if there’s anything I should add!

Masterpost 

———————————–

It had been a happy day.

The sun was shining through their windows from Roman’s part of the Imagination, Patton was making lunch for everyone, Logan and Virgil were having a light debate about something that really didn’t matter while Roman doodled in his sketchbook.

Roman barely even noticed himself that he was starting to feel a bit off. It could have been the fact he didn’t eat breakfast, so he just pushed aside his inability to come up with anything interesting as just his brain saying he needed food. No one noticed Roman’s occasional shift and grimace or the way he looked slightly too pale.

They ate their lunch and continued with their activities, except Roman only felt worse after he had eaten. He doesn’t say anything as he moves on from drawing in his sketchbook to working on the script for their next video. But his hand trembles over the notebook and he feels chills roll down his back despite the house being fairly warm. Roman bites his lip, trying to force his hands to steady, though he only fails. The living room is fairly empty now though, Logan had escaped to his room to work on schedules, Patton was cleaning the kitchen, and Virgil was napping on the opposite side of the couch. So no one noticed Roman only growing worse and worse. And Roman just assumed it was one of his off days.

No one noticed, at least, until late afternoon.

Deceit had rushed into the light commons, looking behind every piece of furniture and swearing profusely when he didn’t find what he was looking for. Deceit didn’t acknowledge that he startled Virgil or that Patton had scolded him for cursing.

“Deceit, what’s got your snakes all tangled?” Roman asked when Deceit had checked behind their TV. Deceit’s eyes snapped to him and somehow grew even wider.

“Roman? What’s wrong with you?” Roman frowned when Deceit didn’t answer, so he turned his head a bit too quickly and huffed. The action, however, made Roman feel a bit nauseous, and he refrained from reaching up to cover his mouth. He was fine!

“Nothing, just an off-”

“Oh my God, Roman you’re turning gray-” Virgil was the first to point it out, scrambling over on the couch to get to the princely side. Patton was suddenly in the living room upon hearing this.

“What’s all the ruckus kiddos?”

Deceit just shook his head. “I need to find Remus- this isn’t- fuck this isn’t good,” Deceit made a beeline for the stairs, but Patton blocked his way.

“Deceit, what’s going on?” Patton kept getting in Deceit’s path any time Deceit attempted to pass him, and the dishonest side let out a frustrated growl.

“Patton there’s no time!”

“If you just told us-”

“Remus is fucking missing, and Roman is suffering because of it! What’s not clear to you?”

“So your solution is to go invade the Imagination? Roman’s fine! And I’m sure Remus is just planning to come and attack one of us again, there’s no need to worry.” Patton had rolled his eyes as he spoke, crossing his arms.

“Um, Pat?”

“Not now, Virge.”

“But-”

“I said not now!” Virgil flinched as Patton raised his voice, his grip on Roman accidentally tightening and Roman whimpered ever so softly. Patton took a deep breath. “Roman will get better, today’s just a bad day for him! He said so himself!”

Deceit looked past Patton, to the top of the stairs. He made brief eye contact with Logan before the logical side disappeared around the corner, and Deceit huffed loudly.

“Fine! But I’m not leaving until Remus comes back, alright?” Deceit’s voice was just slightly too loud, loud enough to cover the sound of a door closing upstairs. Deceit trudged over to the couch, settling on Roman’s other side.

Roman was looking far worse. He felt as though he could get sick at any moment, and Virgil had been right, he was turning gray. His sash was already a dark and unsaturated red, and his skin was growing paler by the minute. But Patton just waved it off with the explanation maybe Thomas was just losing some motivation, it wasn’t something new, and he went back to cleaning.

-

In the Imagination, things were falling apart just as quickly as Roman was getting sick. Logan hated the Imagination, it was no place for him. But Deceit would know if Remus was just pulling a prank on them, and Logan knew Remus wouldn’t go as far as to make Roman sick. Patton maybe, but not Roman.

The ground shakes softly under Logan’s feet as he walks briskly through what was once a forest. Roman’s forest. The trees are almost regressing, some turning into saplings while others disappear below the ground in front of his own eyes. He passes a lake that turns smaller and smaller, first going dry before refilling with dirt. And then the color. Everything was void of it, and Logan knew that wasn’t right. Roman’s land was vibrant and loud and alive. Nothing was supposed to be dying in his part of the Imagination.

It’s when Logan gets closer to the border, everything now looking like an empty field, that he hears it. A wail that could shatter glass in an instant, and Logan’s running towards it, calling out for Remus.

As he gets closer, he realizes the wails aren’t just cries for help. They’re cries for Roman.

Logan nearly trips over the curled figure, but he stops before he can hurt them. And the cries momentarily quiet into soft sobs as they look up at Logan.

“You’re not- you’re not Roman-” he hiccups and the young figure finally registers in Logan’s mind as Remus. Except… he wasn’t Remus anymore, not the one Logan had been expecting to find. Still, Logan crouches down so he’s at eye level with the child.

Logan tries to keep his voice as even as possible. “No, but I know where he is.”

Remus’s eyes darken slightly, and he looks down, sniffling as he tries and fails to wipe away his tears. “So he did leave me? The bright man made him leave?” He asked softly, looking back up to Logan with tears still streaming down his cheeks. Logan tilted his head.

“The bright man?”

“Yeah, in the- the light blue shirt! He wanted to take Roman- I haven’t- where is he? He left me, didn’t he?”

Logan had thought he had felt rage before, but that was nothing compared to this. “You mean Patton took Roman?” Remus seemed to think for a moment, and then he nodded, and it took all of Logan’s energy to not curse up a storm right then and there. He tried to keep a neutral expression. “I don’t think he wanted to leave you, Remus, in fact, I think Roman would be very happy to see you.”

“But what about the bright man?”

Logan reached out to brush away Remus’s tears and push his hair from his face. “Don’t worry about him.”

“But what if he hurts me- he took Roman away because he didn’t like me- I was bad! What if he does it again?!”

Logan offered a small smile, hoping it looked reassuring. “As I said, do not worry about him. I’ll deal with him if he tries, okay?” Remus bit his lip, a bit too hard as a small bit of blood seeped out from under his teeth. Logan sighed softly. “Remus, do you want to see Roman?”

Slowly, Remus nodded, and Logan scooped him up off the ground just as the area around them was turning white. “Hold on tight, okay?” Logan mumbled as Remus buried his face in Logan’s shoulder, nodding, and Logan sunk out, holding the child tightly in his arms.

It had been a happy day.

———————————–

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[pettrichore]

dunno if i’ll be able to finish this. but so like dabihawks au where like. dabi does his research aka when he was touya he was with his dad once during the whole takami thief thing and met keigo. flash forward he doesnt believe a thing about this hero hawks. sees him for the fabricated person he has become. and eventually hawks sees dabi for who he really is and was and like vigilante-ish dabihawks. bits about the au and the snippet i wrote under the cut.

cause this shit gets LONG af

hawks feels fake. doesnt rlly know who he has even become

the commission kinda forced a lotta habits out of him and completely molded him into who they want him to be

he barely even finds his name to be anything more than a stranger’s name at this point. 

anyway so dabi p much knows who he is. does his own digging. and kinda puts some pieces together and sees how fake hawks is

hawks barely even knows if he shows any genuine emotions at this point. he’s kinda at a breaking point where he cant recognize himself and separate keigo from hawks. feeling like hawks has just swallowed him whole

he does show genuine things though. sometimes says or does shit out of line but he tends to have obedience beat into him even if he sometimes has a bit of a mouth on him. it’s mild tho

at the start of dabi working w hawks, hawks was very careful

it kinda progressed into keigo coming out more around dabi even though it was in bits and pieces

anyway dabi puts two and two together and realizes him and hawks are pretty similar and instead of seeing him as a traitor (though he’s sure that he’s not 100% on their side) he sees him as someone who can fit in with the misfits and he can p much fully convince hawks to ditch the bs

so the confrontation happens (see ending snippet) and hawks is like wtf just happened

and p much eventually there’s some tender moments between dabi and hawks and hawks ends up explaining how used he’s felt

he has been molded into the perfect obedient soldier; maybe sorta kinda explains that the commission is having him do double agent duties and instead of reacting badly dabi is p receptive and doesnt just try to kill him. instead he can see how badly hawks wants to break out of his cage and fly free and he deeply feels for that and knows how that can feel and is like aight well fuck them

so hawks kinda double agents on the commission?? 

and he does end up meeting the LoV and like sees how human they are

but also he’s like damn son but okay i dont agree w everything

and dabi is like yeahhh same ??? idk they are a means to an ends for me but also not lmao 

and then there’s some dabi spilling his guts as they get closer and get more intimate and very much boyfriends

and hawks is so livid and he cant help but fuck around with endeavor the next time he sees him. and like he’s just so much more distant to him. he can’t begin to wrap his head around it. and he’s so broken that like.. the one person that he saw as his true hero. that “saved him” is a horrible person behind closed doors

the one person who he was inspired by and agreed to join the commission’s forces for is just horrible

there’s just a lotta solidarity between hawks and dabi and a lotta shared anger and hurt

and they’re boyfriends and it’s great but also like hawks isn’t a horrible person

neither is dabi ??? i mean listen they’ve both killed ppl. they probs will continue to kinda do it. but it’s always just horrible ppl

like listen killing ?? not great folks??? but also like idk man.. 

they also def leave kids outta this 10000% 

anyway p much they end up ditching the LoV too. try to get some of them outta that shit. like toga who has become like a sorta lil sister for dabi in a way

they both just feel so horrible and gross seeing kids get into that shit

also like the girl needs some HELP. some therapy and rehabilitation idk

idk i love the morality shit with the LoV but might not play with it too much here

anyway they end up doing their own thing and the commission is quick to denounce him and just ruin his image

and try to kill him lmao they made him a perfect hero which could be a perfect villain and if he isn’t working for them he’s working against them (i mean he is) and needs to be Stopped Permanently

anyway here’s the snippet. my single brain cell that helped write this has left my body:

At this point, Hawks wasn’t so sure he was even real. His existence felt fabricated. Each smile or joke carefully placed. Each movement was calculated. He didn’t act out of line. His interviews were carefully thought out months in advance if not lies that he himself began to believe after years of telling them. His penthouse had just enough “personal” touches that when he had a spare moment to invite someone over it actually seemed like it could be a home. Hawks’ original motivations were squashed and were pushed aside unless they created an interesting story. His natural mannerisms that came with his mutation quirk were learned to be suppressed. Hell his own name sounded like a stranger’s to his ears. That is if anyone even knew it. 

“Is there anything real about you, hero,” Dabi spoke. His back wasn’t fully to Hawks, left side presented to him as he set a framed graduation photo down and fully faced the winged hero. Dabi stuffed his hands in his pockets and tilted his head to the side some, waiting for an answer. Hawks snorted and gave him an unamused look.

“I’m as real as they get, hot stuff.” He kept a casual air about his words, hands spreading out in surrender. “Not sure what else you expect.”

Hawks was on edge, but he wouldn’t let the villain know it. They were supposed to be meeting soon, but once again the villain pulled something unexpected and had been waiting for Hawks in his own apartment. Hawks’ feathers twitched slightly, sharpened edges ready for the command if it came. Dabi leveled him with an unimpressed stare. There was a moment where their gazes met in an intense battle, though Dabi’s look softened as he broke out in a lazy grin.

“Y’know... You might be just as much of a mystery as I am, Pretty Bird.”

“I think I’m a pretty open book myself.”

“I think you like to let people think that.”

“And I think you’re just trying to fuck with me. Can we just get to what you came here for? I had a looong day and kinda wanna get some food and some sleep.” Hawks punctuated his words by stretching his arms up high before shedding off his coat, goggles, and headphones. He tossed the coat over the back of his couch and dropped the gear onto the end table. He hoped Dabi would just drop this whole line of thought, take this as some sort of submission, and be satisfied enough to leave. 

Wrong.

“Oh, we can get to that later… You, on the other hand, are much more interesting.” He moved closer, hands coming out of his pockets as he crossed the room to stand a few feet from Hawks. 

“I’d love to be a great host and entertain you, but unfortunately I wasn’t expecting any guests today.” Hawks crossed his arms and watched Dabi carefully, eyes narrowing some in challenge. 

“That’s too bad. You know, I’ve been doing some research on you. I don’t quite think you are who you say you are, Hawks.” The winged-hero tensed just ever so slightly before forcing his muscles to relax some. He didn’t like the way things were going. While Dabi’s fire was his ultimate weakness, he’s sure that he’s fast enough to put a sharpened feather to his throat and end this all here and now than Dabi would be if he wanted to put the spy to an end.

“And who do you think I am then, Dabi?” He raised an unruly eyebrow. His primaries ached to shoot out and end this, poised at the ready.

Dabi blinked slowly, bright turquoise eyes disappearing for a moment before shining under heavily lidded eyes. His grin stretched a bit wider, tugging on where healthy skin met the grafts. 

“I think you aren’t the hero you put out there… Or the person you say you are. You like to say a lotta nothin’ don’t you?” Dabi stepped closer and Hawks’ fingers twitched but his arms remained crossed.

“I think you like to pretend to be this airhead bird. Like to use that name. Like to look like you’re the perfect little hero... You’re good at it, too. You aren’t though, are you… Takami Keigo.” 

Hawks had a primary feather in each hand, on pressed to Dabi’s throat. It pressed in just enough to draw some blood from the marred skin grafts. He could feel the heat radiating from Dabi’s skin and particularly from the small flames in each of his palms, but the villain made no move to use it against him. He just continued to grin. 

“What’s the look of surprise there, Birdie?” Dabi purred. 

“How do you know that name?” He demanded, crowding further into Dabi’s space. 

“Like I said, I did my research. Now unless you want to end up on the crispy side of cooked, I’d ease the fuck up,” Dabi’s voice took on a slight bite towards the end and his grin lessened. “And here I was going to tell you that you can meet the boss finally. Thought you might be real League material.”

Hawks instincts and mind screamed to press the sharp feather further or at least hold his position, demand answers. His judgment told him to ease off and soften the feathers once more. Hawks didn’t move too far from Dabi, though the primary feathers in his hands softened and returned to his wings. The heat radiating off Dabi died down along with the flames in his hands. Steam left his skin as he killed the flames. 

“Much better… We don’t want any incidents like that when you get to meet the boss, right? You’re lucky I’m a lot more patient.” Hawks wasn’t sure what this was all about but didn’t argue with him on that point.

“Glad to see your fake little hero persona is starting to crack.”

#long post #dabihawks #dabi #hawks #todoroki touya #takami keigo #dabi is a todoroki #dabi is touya #my writing #speaks #bnha au #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia

[clansayeed]

Bound by Destiny II, part 1 ― Chapter 30: The Last Act part 1

PAIRING: Kamilah Sayeed x MC (Nadya Al Jamil) RATING: Mature

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Destiny II, part 1 ⥽

While struggling with nightmares of lives she’s never lived, a shadow from the past looming over her city, and the proposed idea that her life may just be a little bit too weird to handle alone, Nadya makes sure to tell herself that everything is perfect just the way it is. If only. When the self-proclaimed King of Vampires (and Maker of her sometimes-girlfriend and always-boss, can’t forget that little tidbit) Gaius Augustine returns intent on claiming Manhattan as the throne that was promised, she and her friends find themselves forced into the task of saving the world. But with millennia-old vampires and an Order of hunters on their heels as well as allies hiding catastrophic secrets at their backs… it won’t be an easy task. Too bad destiny didn’t exactly ask for her input.

Bound by Destiny II and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the Bloodbound series and spin-off, Nightbound. Find out more [HERE].

TAG LIST: @googlesentmehere, @cess02, @hellyeah90sbaby

*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Destiny II tag list!

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

Now that they're back on the surface, everyone struggles with the things they learned down below. Things they learned about Gaius and the First, things they learned about each other, and the ones they learned about themselves. But the worst is yet to come.

[READ IT ON AO3]

“That’s enough. Give it here.”

“No,” she shakes her head adamantly; the sudden dizziness tries to argue right back at her, “no I just needed to sit. I can do a little more.”

“I’m certain you can —”

“— then keep —”

“— but you need to rest.”

Her voice cracks in a whimper. “I will, I promise I will — but —”

“Enough,” Cadence snaps, stern only because he has to be; because this isn’t the first time Nadya’s tried to give more blood than her body can function properly without, “I won’t hear any more of it. You’re still weak, and this is a good amount… should last us the next day or so while you rest up.”

At least they’re both well aware of who exactly he’s talking to; and just how not-over-with this conversation actually is. They’ve had ample time to talk (read: argue) while he draws her blood with a steady, never-wavering focus. He knows she’ll argue this until she passes out from the blood loss. Just like she knows he’s only disagreeing  with her because he feels like he has to. To get back on everyone else’s good sides.

Though… what did those look like, again? She’s starting to forget. Probably because she hasn’t seen them in a long long time.

Even if he’s still radiating frustrated vibes Cadence stays professional; every bit the real medical doctor as he eases the needle from the inside of her elbow and quickly staunches the last few drops with cotton. All of it methodical, perfectly normal blood-donating stuff. Until, that is, her vampire medic catches his thumb between sharpened teeth and nips the smallest of cuts. Just a drop is all it takes; one little red line swiped over the puncture mark and presto vanish-o.

A rueful smile tugs against her unwilling lips. She’s the farthest thing from a making-jokes mood but any time it happens they’re always in Lily’s voice. It’s such a comfort right now — they have no idea.

Cadence transfers her blood from the bowl to an empty blood bag; that gets traded out for the one from yesterday in one hand and the funnel on the drying rack by the sink in the other.

“Can I come with this time?”

Nadya’s caught him off-guard; faltering steps and his shoulders squaring off like he has an answer on the tip of his tongue, only to remember that he’s a good man.

“Just… don’t tell the others.”

Crossing her finger over her heart, she nods. “Promise.”

He makes her hang back five steps from the door while he opens it and makes sure the coast is clear. A stupid precaution in her eyes; if there really was a Feral vampire on the other side she doubts a door would be enough to hold the thing back. Her friends only have her best interests at heart, though, and she knows it. It’s just… fear makes people do weird things.

It can make them act out; be cruel… or unleash a vengeful bloodthirsty warlord on the woman who took away a century of his life.

Finally Cadence steps inside. He holds the door open and she ducks under his arm to squeeze through.

“Hey Lil’.”

She has the same first thought every time: she looks like she could be sleeping. Only Lily doesn’t sleep on her back, she sleeps like a dragon in a hoard of pillow-treasure. So this must be some other girl, is always the next idea. But that’s wrong too.

This is Lily; here and real and colder than the chilly bedroom when Nadya sits on the bedside and takes one hand in hers. And no matter how much this sucks it’s better than the alternative. Nadya knows they’re doing all they can here; like driving in an endless fog.

Cadence makes quick work of propping Lily’s mouth open with the funnel and getting this over with as fast as possible. Nadya would do the same — but because that’s just plain disgusting. Her friends keep these trips short and quick because they’re all still so weak. They can only resist open, fresh-ish blood for so long.

Together they watch, and wait; and Nadya never looks away from Lily’s closed eyelids. Part of her hopes and wishes they might twitch — or better, fly open. The rest isn’t sure what exactly would open those eyes. That’s the part that keeps her quiet.

Minutes that feel like hours that feel like years later, when there’s nothing left in the bag but veins made by the plastic, the vampire takes out the funnel and gives Nadya a generous bit of space for her patience.

Nadya moves closer; leaning and tugging out a wadded fistful of tissues because there’s something so wrong about seeing her blood dribbling from Lily’s lips. “I know you didn’t wanna get blood on this jacket,” she teases, “but frankly the fact that you still have standards after wearing it underground is a ‘you’ problem.”

Her lower lip wobbles. Keeps her from saying anything more — and Nadya has so much more to say. She only wishes she could punch the words out of her stupid stuck throat.

“You just keep getting better.” There are still times where Nadya wakes up fresh from living-nightmares of Lily’s body convulsing, drenched in sweat, black disease creeping up through her body and spreading like a mold. And while they have no real guess as to whether or not Nadya’s blood is reversing the corruption, they don’t know that it’s not. They do know that it hasn’t spread any further.

That’s more than enough reason to keep trying.

A few more tissues dab away little wet spots Nadya almost thinks are sweat on her brow. But then one falls on her hand. And another. And another. So she wipes her eyes instead.

“Just keep getting better — and when we get home I promise I won’t complain about your gamefest junk food trash for a whole month. Or…” because she can feel the judgment—really she can, “like not to your face anyway.”

She doesn’t expect a response, nor does she get one. Life isn’t that easy. “Love you,” Nadya says instead, someone has to have the last word, and with one last kiss to her forehead and and Cadence leave Lily alone in the cold and the dark.

Cadence, perceptively, gives Nadya her space back in the kitchen. He busies himself with the fridge door and cabinet and then there’s a glass of apple juice in front of her that Nadya would definitely prefer to be wine. She takes it with a nonverbal shrug of thanks.

“Ahem.”

“Hm?”

“Drink.”

Don’t think — drink.

Nadya flinches at the memory. Involuntary, no doubt about it; but Cadence sees it clear as day. Doesn’t see much point in hiding the hurt that flashes dark over his eyes.

She feels bad enough about it to down the entire cup in one fell swoop.

“Sorry… about that.”

“For what?” He shrugs her off with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Nadya watches owlishly as he goes to rinse the dish out. Can’t shake the sneaking suspicion that he’s glad for any reason to keep his back turned.

“Cade.”

Who’s a little too heavy-handed putting the glass aside to dry; thankfully the bottom is solid enough that it doesn’t break but there’s always next time. Nadya waits — gives him time to compose himself and turn back around before she’ll keep going.

Instead he grasps the counter’s edge like it’s the only thing keeping him from floating off into the void of space.

“Do I sound like him?” he asks, and when his voice cracks he sags against it even more. “And please… please spare me the false confusion.”

You know exactly who I mean, is what he doesn’t say. The irony that he’d just tried to pull the same thing isn’t lost on either of them.

It’s a relief though. To not have to… ignore it.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I want an answer.”

“Well —” Nadya worries her bottom lip; finds a small chipped-off spot on the floor tile and speaks to it instead, “— I mean yes, of course you sound like him. You’re the same… you know what I’m trying to say.”

They weren’t the same, though. That’s why this is so hard on him. Why his shoulders are shaking one wrong word away from a total episode.

“You have the same voice — his accent wasn’t quite right but, uh, yeah.” He doesn’t stop her, so she doesn’t stop. “But if you’re asking me if I looked at him and couldn’t tell the difference between you two? Cadence… that was the problem. That’s what we were all struggling with. The way he talked, how he carried himself; it was all just too strange. Too much, I think.

“I couldn’t see any of you in him and it—it was scary.” I thought I’d somehow killed you. Thankfully Nadya’s able to bite that particular confession back and swallow it down. She’s hurting him enough.

Though she almost doubts it — when Cadence finally glances at her in profile. Hair covering most of his eyes but not so much that she misses the flicker of hope there.

“You’re telling the truth?”

“I’m gonna pretend that doesn’t offend me.” His look turns imploring; desperate even. “Yes, I’m telling the truth. Cynbel was a jerk — pretty much the anti-you. And… yes, he got us out of there alive and yes he helped me try to save Lily even when the others wouldn’t and—and I don’t regret any of that. Not for one second.

“But I also don’t have the words for how relieved I was to see you wake up the other day. None of us knew what would happen while you were unconscious all that time. Serafine looked close to pulling out her hair.” Two beds, two friends. And two monsters that could have come out on the other side instead.

“Even I’m not sure I really know what happened,” and everything on his face screams about just how much that worries him, “the last thing I recall clearly was being in the front hall, back at the Manor, and running forward as you were attacked. Then…”

He tries to find the words. Nadya gives him the chance because she knows what that’s like. The confusion of knowing you were awake; you were there… and then suddenly doubting everything in your head because that’s no longer the case. But Cadence comes up short, to his chagrin, and just ends up looking like a fish out of water.

She knows that pretty well, too. “It happened. Nothing we can do will change that now. So now we just…”

BANG.

Another flinch — Nadya doesn’t even realize what she’s doing until her hand is deep in her jacket pocket with the metal ridges of Cadence’s switchblade handle digging into her palm.

“I have a few more we could try,” comes Serafine’s voice from the front room, “they are… distant, but not unfriendly.”

“No, no way.”

Adrian’s sigh is soft and weary. His voice so quiet that Nadya almost doesn’t hear him at all. “Jax, it’s not like we have a ton of options.”

“We don’t need options. We need decisions!”

Great. More arguing. She and Cadence glance at one another in silence. Should we go in there? We should. Do I want to go in there? No, no I don’t, but we have to. You take Raines, I’ll take Matsuo. Ugh, fine!

The taller goes first — not that it was planned. But it gives Nadya the chance to look Serafine over without Serafine doing the same. Just as she suspected — and just as it’s been every time she thinks no one is watching — the vampiress goes on alert the moment his foot crosses the threshold. Cadence is a trooper, though, and gives her about as much attention as he would the ugly flowery wallpaper.

He turns to take up a chair; isn’t even sitting down before the look is gone from the woman’s furrowed brow. Replaced by a weary smile that instinctively checks Nadya over for signs of (more) damage. “Sounds like you three had another fruitful evening,” he remarks dryly. And gets three nasty stares for his troubles.

“You think this is a time for jokes?” she snarls. But he doesn’t bat an eye.

“I think it’s too damn depressing right now to do anything else.”

Jax resumes his pacing near the window. Nervous energy desperate for an outlet; because somehow fighting back literally hundreds of Ferals was something he could get over in a week and a half. Adrian sits leaned over in his armchair, elbows on his knees and such a crumpled, forfeiting look to his soul that Nadya feels some of it seeping into her pores.

“Adrian?”

He lifts his head with a visible effort; too heavy for him to hold high like the Adrian she knows. She’s seen this look in his eyes before — when she had been returned from Gaius’ grisly dinner party. How is it so much has happened, so much has changed, yet she still feels so helpless to make it better for him? “What can I do?”

Nothing, and they both know it. Her hand, only half-reached out in offering, slides into his. When he squeezes it’s borderline painful, but she endures. Taking a moment to gather himself, Adrian wets his lips before speaking.

“Something isn’t right. It just isn’t… I feel it,” he grabs his middle with his free hand, “in here. I’ve exhausted every resource pooled between Kamilah and I in the last hundred years. Dozens of networks, forgers, freelancers. There’s just no way they’d all be gone. Not without reason.”

Nadya lowers herself to sit on the arm of his chair. “So we still haven’t been able to get what we learned about the stake to Kamilah, then.” Their faces say it all.

“Do we have any other options?”

“Yes!”

“No, we don’t!” Adrian’s anguish hardens into anger faster than Nadya has time to process. He rounds on Jax hard and resolute. “Because that is not an option. Not after everything they’ve sacrificed.”

She peers between Serafine and Jax over Adrian’s shoulder. “What are you talking about?” And anger or not, Adrian isn’t scaring Jax off of his plan easily.

“We need to go home.”

Oh. “But…”

“But what, Nadya? What? Because you’re dead worried, just like I am, hell just like you are, Raines. We don’t know anything — and we have a pretty clear answer on how to fix that. We go back and we help them there, on the home front. And when we know we’ve got our foot in the door then we get back to this Eternal Tree and Gaius-stake. But there’s no stake in the world that will help if we lose the city in the process.”

He burns with passion and conviction. This is Jax; of course he does. Even Nadya finds herself shifting on the cushion, weighing the pros and cons of his argument. “I want to Jax—I do.” And here come the dang tears again. “But what about Lily? If things are really as chaotic in New York as Cade said —”

“— oh they are —”

“— if they are… we need to keep her somewhere steady, and try everything we can before it’s too late. We wouldn’t be able to do that.”

Nadya tries to meet his eyes but the rebel doesn’t make it easy on her. At least he’s staying silent on purpose; that means he agrees with her whether it helps his case or not.

“I can’t… keep…” Jax’s voice shakes like an earthquake, “running and abandoning the people I promised to protect.”

That same passion and conviction suck the sound out of the room; make it so his hissed anger and clenched teeth sound loud enough to make her ears ring.

“Once was too damn much. I’m not gonna do it again. Not when it makes sense to go back and fight.”

“I’m not sure it does.”

He scoffs at Serafine’s words. “Of course it doesn’t, not to you. All you European vampires know how to do is run and hide.”

Even Cadence looks at him in surprise. “I don’t think that’s really fair… the world is different here.” But he should have kept his mouth shut. Now he’s a target.

“And you sound like you’re conveniently forgetting why that is.”

“I’m not.”

“It wouldn’t be the first thing you’ve forgotten when it suited you.”

Nadya blanches. “Whoa Jax — out of line!”

“No… he’s not.” He’s rattled Cadence; that much is obvious. But unlike he had back in the kitchen, this time the man swallows it down and raises his chin high. “I read the same books you did Matsuo. And maybe I haven’t said it enough, or maybe you weren’t listening the last dozen or so times, but I couldn’t apologize to any of you more than I already have — even if I wanted to!”

He stands, towers over Jax specifically but he holds his ground. Later on — like way way later on and under better circumstances — Nadya’ll remember this and admire him for it. But right now he just looks like a moron.

“You’re angry,” Cade continues, “I get that. Fuck, do I get that. You’re a man in control of his life; his strength. You made your place in the world to spite anyone who told you that you couldn’t. But this—this anger—comes from powerlessness.”

“You don’t know shit.”

“You can’t protect the people you love. And what you can do — it’s taking too long. Try waiting a hundred goddamned years! I did everything I was supposed to and what did I get for it? I got a fat load of bullshit! I gave up a life! I gave up a wife!”

Nadya, Adrian, and Serafine all gasp. Did you know about this? Nadya gives a wide-eyed look to Adrian — but he’s just as surprised.

You’re angry. Well look who’s angry now.

Jax couldn’t care less. He snarls, fangs bared. “Are you seriously making my shit about you right now?”

And… Cadence isn’t. Cadence doesn’t. He shrinks away, all six feet of him seeming to curl in on himself. But he won’t back down.

“No, I’m telling you what you need to understand before anything more happens. Because there will be times your anger seems to come from nowhere; times where the only thing you can think, feel, bleed is a part of that rage. Of feeding it and letting it grow. But that’s all it wants from you. It wants to consume, to live. And there will come a time when you let it at the cost of everything you know is right.”

He shoves a wide hand against Jax’s chest. The man stumbles only barely. “You know what you want isn’t right, Jax. You know it puts you in power, and you know fighting will add fuel to the fire. But you also know all that will do is win you the battle and lose you the war. You’ll fight, and be angry, and still lose everything. But hey…” —stepping back, hands held up in surrender— “you fed the anger. It got what it wanted. You didn’t.”

If anything the argument could be made that Cadence’s (admittedly decent, in Nadya’s opinion) impassioned speech on anger only served to make Jax angrier. Until he surprises them all — and possibly even himself — and stands down.

His nostrils flare; the epitome of restraint.

“I can’t — no, I refuse to sit here with my thumbs up my ass for one more night. No more running around playing hide and seek with a bunch of cowards. They need to know what we know. So how do you suggest we get that in gear?

“We don’t even know if anybody’s still alive.”

“They were the last time I saw them,” says Nadya quietly; almost like an afterthought. It’s like remembering something from a long time ago. The boundaries of it blurred between the waking world and the one of dreams.

Adrian’s hand rests on her knee. “Well, yeah Nadya, we all saw them.”

Oh. She swallows around the sudden lump in her throat and looks away to hide her guilt.

“Unless…” because he’s Adrian, and Adrian knows her so well, “there’s something you’re not telling us…”

“It’s not that I was trying to hide it, I promise —” she throws a hand back towards the depths of the flat, “— I told Lily. But with everything that’s happened, and we needed to focus on Gaius and the memory of the First, and…”

“None of that matters now.” Serafine steps forward; her voice low and soft but that doesn’t make it any less commanding.

“But you need to tell us what you saw.”

Nadya nods.

It’s easier than she expected. And that’s not something she gets to say often. At first it’s a struggle to get everything right; she tells the ending like the beginning and can’t help but feel like she forgets something crucial. But like every other memory or vision once Nadya starts she finds that the words want to be spoken. The events want to be told.

Even if, in their wake, there are only more questions and the same amount of answers.

Beside her, Adrian’s got his deep-thinking face on. At least one of them is. “When was this, again?”

“I don’t know, that’s the hard part. I couldn’t get a date, or figure out if it was before or after Cade was here, or…” Her voice pitches in obvious distress. Immediately Adrian goes back to the soothing motion of running his thumb over her knuckles. It’s a big help, honestly.

“That’s okay. It’s more than we knew before.”

“The question is…” Serafine raises an eyebrow, “can you do it again?”

Can she? Nadya has no idea. This isn’t like with Serafine; she has no hands to hold. And this isn’t like with Gaius; she doesn’t have an entire library and a bloodline to help give things focus. But none of that really matters now.

“I can’t afford not to try.”

She wanders, dream-like, through the vast emptiness of the castle. Her feet feel as light as air. Nothing like the memories she’s used to — she’s already wading deep enough to drown and still can’t tell whether or not this is real.

At least Nadya is familiar with this part of the castle. The decor is changed, more deserved and tailored to fit the overall ‘modern tribute to history’ of the rest of the estate; and there are no more velvet ropes to deter curious minds from closed doors. She may not be lost but that doesn’t mean she knows where she’s going.

But Nadya doesn’t have time to doubt herself. Kamilah doesn’t have time for Nadya to doubt herself. So she lets her feet take her where she needs to go. Following the grand staircase just off of the main ballroom all the way up, then one floor more, to a set of wide double doors at the far end of the hall.

The chandelier lights catch on the nearby plaque; movement shifts in their dazzling twinkle. She whirls around, fearing for a moment for something behind her, but the corridor is abandoned. It’s just her here.

It couldn’t hurt to double-check. And she’s glad she does; Nadya catches her reflection in the sheet of polished gold and freezes in her tracks. Because that’s her reflection. Nadya’s eyes and mouth both wide with surprise. Not Kamilah’s — Nadya’s.

That can’t be good, she thinks fleetingly. But it doesn’t matter. She can’t let that stop her.

Not now.

She reaches for the gilded handle and pushes the door open to the Banner Westbrook Memorial Library.

In here, everything is exactly the same as before. From the polished display cases to the shelves lined neatly with tomes of all shapes and sizes. Muscle memory even tries to tug her away — just for a moment — and around the corner where it feels like just yesterday Adrian had healed the bruises on her neck.

Just the other day… and a lifetime ago.

But that’s not where she’s supposed to go, she’s pretty sure, and the impulse passes — easily forgotten. She keeps her feet on the path but doesn’t know where they plan on taking her. Not until she catches sight of a familiar pair of doors tucked away in a darkened corner near the back.

When Nadya enters the portrait hall, she isn’t alone. A familiar figure stands at the very end; his back turned and relaxed in a slight slouch in his gait.

Gaius doesn’t need to turn around, though. His portrait, regal and looming like a giant, does a fine job of glaring at her on its subject’s behalf.

Nadya steels her nerves and keeps moving. She comes up next to him in a way she wouldn’t dare in person. Close enough that a slight shift of her feet could knock them together; like an ‘oops, my bad’ moment on the average subway commute. Don’t ask her why she does it — she couldn’t tell you. But maybe when she looks back on it she could say it was an act of  courage. A way to prove to herself that she’s no longer the girl running scared through museum shelves, or the one who jumped away from the mere memory of him.

Beside her, Gaius shifts his weight from one foot to the other and takes a slow, rich-person-pretentious sip of the liquor in his hand. It’s jarring — no — disturbing to see him act so… normal. Even Kamilah tended to unintentionally do her best impression of a living statue when she wasn’t doing anything in particular. But save breathing, here Gaius looks like an ordinary man.

And he is neither.

“Do you remember how it felt, that first taste of the potential of your power?”

Just like that all of her fear rushes back in icy floodwaters. Forget wading, she’s outright drowning. From the inside, somehow. Like it’s taken hold of her veins and filled up her belly and throat and now with nowhere to go but back down into her lungs.

What are you doing? You’re not really here, remember?

Oh, her…self… actually makes a really good point. She’s not really here. Gaius is alone — though she’d been aiming for a memory involving Kamilah and this is definitely very much not that but if she can’t get one simple thing right she might as well return to the others with something. Information on Gaius’ plans, movements, acts will have to do.

So… wait. Who is he talking to then?

Gaius waits, and waits, and waits for an answer that doesn’t seem to be coming. So unless the painting is going to start talking —

Then he looks down at her. At Nadya, not through her, and all bets are well and truly fucking off.

She backs away fast, practically tripping under her own feet until her sweating palms collide with the texture of dried oil paint of some vampire she doesn’t recognize. Who cares about any other vampire — Gaius can see her. How the hell can he see her?!

Gaius who just watches, cool and impassive, and clucks his tongue when she jostles the frame at her back. “Careful now, Nadya, that piece was the work of a master painter—and a dear friend. I would hate for your clumsiness to ruin it from so far away.”

So far away… “I’m… not really here?” The same mantra, but now, aloud, she’s uncertain. He’s not exactly the agreeing type.

“Of course not. How would such a thing be possible?”

“I’ve seen… a lot of impossible things lately.”

That earns Nadya a hint of a smile around the lip of his glass. “No doubt you have. Paris has always been a city of unimaginable wonders; wonders that pay no mind to the realms of dark and light. And with someone as well-traveled as our dear Serafine to show you around? Oh you must have been having such a wonderful little trip.”

She wants to shut down, to find the remote and turn this awful show off; to reach out and see if she can grab his throat like she can the painting frame and squeeze like that would do her any good.

But there are are a lot of things Nadya wants. She wants Lily to be better with the snap of a finger. She wants Lily and Mari to be able to hold each other again, wants Kamilah in the safety of her arms and vice versa. She wants Cadence to find peace and Jax to find purpose and Serafine and Adrian to get back to the way they had been before the dumb trip down to the dumb crypts.

Just because she wants something doesn’t mean she’ll get it, though. Not without a fight.

So no matter how much she wants to take off running (mentally, physically, psychically) back to Paris and the others and away from Gaius, who knows where they are and who they asked for help and knows exactly how scary that is to think about — she can’t yet.

Not without a fight.

Nadya knows full-well she can’t outwit him in word games. So she defaults to a classic man-deterrent — she straight-up ignores whatever he says.

“If I’m not really here, how can you see me?” How can you talk to me? Why aren’t you currently killing me? The important questions.

Her deflection doesn’t go unnoticed. Gaius is too good for that.

“You tell me.”

“Wow, you’re so original.” She replies, and gives possible the most dramatic eye roll of her life. He doesn’t even flinch. Darn it.

Instead Gaius shrugs it off. “I would have thought that by now you were tired of being on the sidelines of your own life.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Really?” His face falls in mock sympathy. “You don’t find some truth to the sentiment? Or are you as blind in the mind as you are in the eye — to the repeated pattern of events that constantly spiral out of control but never fail to pluck you up into the chaos as they go?”

Nadya keeps her back up against the wall; somewhere safe where no one can sneak up behind her. Gaius is dangerous enough no matter where he is. “You know… I’ve had kind of a long week. I’m really not in the mood for your weird word puzzles.”

“They aren’t puzzles. I couldn’t speak any plainer if I tried.”

“Then I really feel bad for anyone who has to talk to you for longer than five minutes —” —a beat— “— myself included.”

“Maybe this will give you clarity, then. Aren’t you tired, Nadya Al Jamil, of having the events of your life told to you? It seems to be the only constant, to the outside observer.”

Which makes her snort a little too loudly. “I hope you aren’t talking about yourself. Most of the crap going on right now is your fault anyway.”

“I know,” he inclines his head, “so I ought to know better than anyone, wouldn’t you say?”

Nadya doesn’t say — but they both know why that is. He’s right. “I’ll give due credit to your natural curiosity. You’re always asking questions — not necessarily the right ones, or at the right time — but your take initiative to seek out the knowledge you need. But you never really seem to find it for yourself, do you. You simply fumble along on your fragile little mortal body until someone comes along and takes you by the hand. It’s convenient… I’ll give you that too.

“But if there’s one thing I’ve come to loathe about this new century; the age of technology and modern conveniences, is exactly that. Because convenience breeds laziness; breeds contentment and expectation.” His upper lip curls — and just like that his charming little smile becomes a wicked discontent.

“Here and now you wait on bated breath for me to just tell you the answer. You are the driving force behind everything—everything that has happened and all the things yet to come. Our little tête-à-tête included… but you do not so much as lift a finger to seek your own truths. You would rather they be given to you.”

It’s funny — here Nadya had been ready to accept that this will be the best she gets out of her attempt to breach the psychic barrier and find Kamilah, and to maybe give Gaius a few rousing sassy jabs she wouldn’t dare be brave enough to say in person while she’s at it. But she’s not the one doing the jabbing. Short, sharp and shallow wounds that make her red in the face with her fists balled up tight at her sides.

“You have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Well, no, that’s entirely false. I know everything about you, my little Bloodkeeper. Even things you don’t know about yourself.” Gaius’ eyes flicker red then, so quick and subtle that Nadya doesn’t think he’s even aware it happened.

“Especially things you don’t know about yourself.”

Her face burns hotly. “And that’s my fault? I didn’t choose to be this. Actually — that was you who chose for me.”

“You can tell yourself that if it helps. Though I can’t say denial makes for the strongest of moral codes.”

“You wouldn’t know a moral code if it poked you in the butt.” Did she really just say that?

The same question is written across his brow as it arches high, dark and neat.

“So when you abandoned the city you yearn so desperately to protect, was that a part of your morals?” No… he’s not… “When you willingly turned tail to run; when you left your friends, family, and… those you feel affection for behind. All part of this upstanding moral code of yours?”

He’s baiting her. Voice lilting, little finger tapping mutely against the side of his tumbler. The picture of easy breezy conversation and he knows it.

She won’t stoop to his level. Nadya answers him honestly; “No, and to tell you the truth I’d give up a lot to have never gotten on that plane. But I shouldn’t have had to leave. Your vision — your perfect vampire world — it’s impossible. I wouldn’t have needed to leave her behind, Gaius, if you weren’t so hell-bent on following in the crazy footsteps of a madwoman.”

The glass shatters in Gaius’ grip. Thin little lines of blood seeping through the crevices in his fist, drip-dripping down onto the no doubt expensive and antique floor runner. His hand snaps open like a trap, and the last shards of broken glass fall from his unmarked hand.

There isn’t a fleck of light left in his eyes.

“Watch your tongue.” And for just a moment, or a shadow of one, Nadya swears she can hear the tiny waver in his voice. Not enough to matter, or be symbolic of anything. But enough to prove a point.

In that shadow of a moment he’s not Gaius, King of Vampires; he’s Gaius, Rheya’s devoted Soldier. Powerless to save her and always—forever—too far away.

Nadya dares to step forward. “Why,” she challenges, “did I say something wrong?” Gaius raises his chin, looks down on her more than he already is; classic power move and she sees right through it.

“Because I don’t think I did. It’s your fault we had to leave, which means it’s your fault Kamilah had to stay behind, and all of it because you’ve spent three thousand years following some version of Rheya’s crazy plan — her failed plan to boot.”

“You know nothing of which you speak.”

“What does that make me then,” she asks, “Am I a blasphemer, Gaius, because I don’t blindly follow the Church of the First Vampire?”

Gaius’ voice rings in her ears. Not the one here in front of her; he doesn’t have the passion for it. But the Soldier, righteous in that cave and ever-loyal at Her side. She’s hearing a memory.

“Blasphemer!” Echoing out in her mind; filling her with conviction.

“Traitor.”

“Is Kamilah a traitor for what she did to you? Not locking you away — that didn’t matter. But she was supposed to be your Queen… until she wasn’t.”

“Insolent little —”

“Coward!”

“Oh no you don’t — I’m not done yet.” She actually interrupts him; even Nadya has a hard time believing it. But that’s nothing compared to Gaius, who looks like he’s just been run over.

“And Adrian too, right? Because you and I both know he was never as loyal a Soldier to you as you were to Her. Then again—talk about high standards. Why do you think that is? Why did you try to build a Soldier only to end up with a coward?”

His crystalline eyes go wide. This close Nadya can see the whites all the way around; the hint of the tip of his fangs between parted lips. This time it’s the King of Vampires who steps away, not the little mortal girl. But with the same traces of fear lingering in the air.

And Nadya? She has absolutely no regrets.

Well… maybe one or two. Especially when, finally, Gaius smiles.

“I see.” He shouldn’t be smiling. That doesn’t stop him. “That’s a very… unique selection of words Nadya. Paris has made you quite the young poet from the sound of it.”

She swallows audibly. Where the heck did that confidence go, and can it come back?

“It’s a beautiful city,” she agrees though every word is laced with caution like a thin film of arsenic, “I found it especially helpful in jogging some old memories.”

“I look forward to hearing more about them.”

“Uh…” Suddenly it almost hurts to look at him; like he’s burning alive inside — a sun in flesh. Nadya looks around desperate but in vain; the only eyes that stare back are frozen in time and place. Not even the familiar face beside Isseya’s stoic likeness can help her now.

“I don’t plan on staying — I shouldn’t even be here to begin, so...” You know.

Oh, he knows. There it is; knowing shining through all across his face. It occurs to Nadya then, when it might be two seconds shy of too late, that she’s the one out of the loop.

“Maybe not tonight, but I have every confidence I’ll be seeing you very soon.”

He looks like his soul is on fire but that doesn’t change the fact that the hand he reaches up to brush a thumb across Nadya’s cheek isn’t anything other than ice cold. He whispers, like an afterthought; “And with so much for you and I to catch up on… after all these years.”

Gaius can touch her.

Gaius can touch her.

Nadya makes a run for it. Sprinting back down the length of the room to the doors both barely hanging ajar. What am I doing? I need to wake up. How do I do that? Figure that out later! RUN NOW!

Holding her hands out in front of her, Nadya prepares to scramble a flight to safety — and collides with solid stone instead. A stone that grips her upper arms, feels her shaking, and looks down with ancient, distant eyes riddled with confusion.

“Nadya? But how —” Valdas cuts himself off before he can fully ask, and looks between her and the approaching Gaius with uncertainty. Realization comes over him and eclipses the muted melancholy; a shadow over the moon.

Nadya would have struggled if she had the time. But things are always moving a little too fast for her these days. And here, in this semi-reality where she’s both at Marcel’s castle in New York and in the apartment in Paris, is no exception.

As it is, she barely manages to wrench one arm from his grasp before the Trinity vampire tugs her by the other. His breath and the whiskers of his beard tickle in her ear. “Remember what I told you—” Then the scrape of millennia-old callouses on fingertips presses at her temple.

Nadya’s eyes fly open. The sting of unshed tears finds release, warm tracks carving into her cheeks. She wishes one would warm the place where Gaius had touched her cheek, but wishes don’t always come true.

She can still feel it. Still see the details in his irises, and that awful light glinting in his eyes.

“I don’t like that face.”

Jax’s surly comment brings her back. Back from where she doesn’t know — doesn’t want to. All she knows is she’s back, all four limbs and ten fingers that wind their way into the fabric of Adrian’s jacket and refuse to let go.

“Hey, hey,” he shushes her; pets her head slow just like Lily would, “you’re okay, you’re okay now. You’re back here, you’re okay.”

He’s stayed kneeling by her side this whole time, apparently. Not just a tether to Kamilah and home but to Nadya herself. Right now Adrian’s hand on top of her head might be the only thing keeping her from dissipating into oblivion.

Serafine is in the same seat across the table; looking like she doesn’t know what to make of Nadya in this state. Join the club sister.

“There is — hein, where are you going?!”

Just like she had in the portrait hall, Nadya takes off without looking back. Her limbs prickle, angry pins and needles demanding she slow down. But she can’t. She’s still… not here, not here, not anything. But in all she doesn’t know, the one thing she does is easily plucked from the air.

“I need a window.”

“Oh, I think she might be sick.” Says Cadence with an audible cringe. Nadya ignores him.

“A window! Now!”

She’s been wandering this apartment like a ghost for the last week and a half; she knows where the windows are. But between her sleepy limbs and the feeling of drowning in her own lungs it takes Nadya more than a little effort to find them.

“Open the damn window, Raines!”

“Jax, I swear —”

But Adrian puts his frustration aside — for her. For his worry for her. In a blurred step he passes her by and unlatches the window, pushing it out wide open for her the moment she arrives at the ledge. Nadya collides with the sill hard enough to knock the wind (and nonexistent watery fear) from her lungs; leaving her breathless.

“What do you think you’re doing, foolish girl?” Serafine keeps going, keeps scolding her — but she’s just wasting her voice. It buzzes like a fly in Nadya’s ear; fading, fading, then gone altogether. All of their questions, guesses, demands end the same way.

Pure silence. She shreds through it with her tongue like a knife.

“He said he’d be seeing me ‘very soon.’”

Her friends exchange similar glances. Worry on fear on an understanding because who else would she be talking about? There’s only one man that makes sense.

“That’s not possible Nadya.” Adrian tries his best to reassure her — but his own hand betrays him. This time it rests on her far less steady.

“Moreover it’s not happening. So why don’t we close the window, get something in your stomach, and…”

His voice trails off; watching, transfixed, as Nadya lifts her arm out from the window. Her finger pointed to the slumbering outer-city streets below.

A tiny red light moves in the darkness, flickering and spluttering on its dying breath. The cigarette filter serves one last inhale before being tossed in a small arc to the pavement underfoot.

A sleek, expensive shoe comes down and grinds the last of the embers into powder.

She doesn’t recognize the man — but she doesn’t need to know who he is; what he is shown in red eyes that flash and fade back to the play-act of a mortal. His shoes are dark, his suit is dark; the close-cropped and almost military shave of his hair is dark, too.

But not his smile. That is warm, inviting even in the black of night. Like the cherry-end of a cigarette.

The woman who comes up beside him, though — there’s no mistaking her.

Isseya looks up first. Locking gazes with Nadya, no searching needed. The sickening truth right before their very eyes. They knew we were here.

Gaius’ laughter still thrums in her blood. His words burrow deep in the marrow of her bones.

“I have every confidence I’ll be seeing you very soon.”

#bloodbound fanfiction #kamilah x mc #choices fanfiction #adrian raines #gaius augustine #jax matsuo #lily spencer #serafine dupont #bloodbound mc #mc: nadya al jamil #oc: cadence smith #oc: valdas #oc: isseya #fic: oblivion bound #oblv: bound by destiny ii #oblv: new chapter #; my fics

[creativeskullcreations]

Outside chapter 13: Moving in

And here's chapter 13 everyone! The climax for the arc is coming soon, so hold onto your Puppets everyone!

Although I may or may not put up Happy Times episode 3 first, depends on what I feel like writing these next two weeks. So, y'know, keep an eye out. :D

The next day started easily enough. Will and Stacy ate breakfast, and the set up the bedroom for Scout to stay in. Stacy saw no point in forcing the Puppet to hide in a bag all day again, when they could simply let her stay in the bedroom instead. She set up the laptop with Netflix, and made sure the Switch was all charged up for her to play on when she got bored of movies. She even asked what kind of snacks she'd want, though that didn't get a reply.

Still, they managed to get her settled in and locked the door just in time for Lisa and Mason to show up. Though Lisa was more than a little curious about it.

"So." The blonde started, quirking an eyebrow. "Why'd you lock the bedroom door?" Her tone was teasing, but Stacy felt a cold rush of fear from what she might think if she found Scout. Would Lisa run? Or would she be violent to Scout? Or worse, would she want to play dress up with her?

No. Under no circumstances should Lisa find out about the Puppet. Not yet, and not now.

"It's just a mess from last night, so we figured we'd be polite about it." Stacy told her, the lie she'd practiced coming easily. Will knew the story too, and had even checked it for holes.

"Oh, please, you two are as vanilla as fresh milk." Lisa countered, and Stacy panicked. The one thing they hadn't considered! "What are you hiding in there? A puppy? Or maybe a kitten?" She looked excited, and Stacy could feel a headache coming on.

"Nothing you need to see, Lisa." Will told her as he walked past. "Now, are you gonna help us out or not? I want to get this done today, so I don't have to pay extra for the truck."

"Fine, fine. But I am so gonna find out what you guys are hiding in there!" She promised. Stacy just scoffed as they followed Will outside.

"Good luck." Was all she said, even knowing Lisa would only take it as a challenge. She had faith, though, that her friend wouldn't be able to beat it.

Not that it stopped her from trying, of course. Lisa was nothing if not determined.

And so, in between carrying boxes into Will's house, the attempted to see what was in the bedroom. It started simple, with just trying to see through the keyhole or under the door. And then Mason caught her outside, trying to look in the window.

"Okay Lees, seriously?! Are you high? Because this seems like the kind of thing only High Lisa would do." He scolded as he dragged her back inside by the arm. Luckily Will and Stacy weren't nearby, or she'd be getting a double helping of Disappointed Glaring. No, they were getting ready to go buy everyone Subway, which was real nice of them if you asked Mason.

"Lil bit." She admitted. "But don't you wanna know what Mr. and Mrs. Vanilla think is kinky?" Mason just sighed, rubbing his eyes as she continued. "I'll bet they aren't, really. I think they adopted a pet! Which would be really weird for Stacy, since she doesn't like animals."

"You're such a fucking motormouth when you get high." He groaned before practically flinging her into the armchair in the living room. He grabbed his phone and put on a random YouTube video. "Watch that and try to sober up a bit, okay? And no more trying to look in their bedroom, you fucking weirdo."

"Yeah okay..." She mumbled, already entranced by the cat video. Mason smirked as he went back outside to see their friends off and double check the U haul for any forgotten boxes. He caught them just as they were getting into Will's car.

"We'll be back soon." Will said as Stacy climbed in the passenger seat. He himself was already in the driver's seat, food list clutched in one hand. "Stay out of our bedroom. And my basement."

"Will do boss!" Mason agreed, then watched them go. He checked the truck, finding no boxes. He closed the door, then went back inside to wait for Will and Stacy to return.

He went to the living room, only to find Lisa not where he left her. the only thing on the arm chair was his cell phone, neatly placed in the very center. He swore and picked it, shoving it in his pocket as he rushed to the bedroom door. She was there, of course, kneeling in front of it as she picked the lock. She looked up as he approached, looking quite cheery.

"Now's our chance!" She hissed excitedly as she worked the door. Mason grabbed her arm, trying to pull her away even as she kept working.

"Lees, no! You don't know what could be in there!" He insisted, but she pulled back. He didn't fight her too hard, not wanting to hurt her, but she was quite obviously out of her mind.

"C'mon Mason! Don't tell me you're not curious!" She grinned as she broke free, and finished unlocking the door. "Ooooh, what if it's that weird occult stuff they're into? That could be fun."

"No, it wouldn't!" Mason had seen things, back when Will had first started his hunting hobby. Things that still gave him nightmares sometimes. "We shouldn't open that door."

"Too late!" Lisa exclaimed gleefully, shoving it open and peering inside. Despite his protests, Mason did too, curious as to what exactly Will would allow to be kept in his bedroom.

'Maybe it is just a puppy or something. God I hope that's all it is.' He thought desperately, tensed to run at the first sign of trouble.

For a long moment, nothing happened. There was no movement, and the bedroom looked just like it always did, though with an open laptop and a Switch on the bed. Mason sighed in relief, and went to close the door.

"See? Nothing there except a computer and Nintendo. Now, let's close the door and lock up again before they get back and we get in trouble." He closed the door, completely missing the small figure that sneaked out as he did so.

"Pfft, lame." Lisa knelt down and began to try and re-lock the door. "I thought for sure there'd be a dildo or something on the floor, at the very least!"

"Yeah, well, there's not. So let's never mention this to anyone ever, okay?" Mason asked, turning and going into the kitchen, only to freeze at what he saw there.

"Ugh, fiiiine!" The blonde groaned as she finished up. She stood up, only to find her friend standing stock still in front of the kitchen counter. "Uh, Mason?" She joined him, only to stop and stare too.

"Nobody fucking move!" It was a small blue hand puppet with purple hair. It was pointing  a large kitchen cleaver straight at them, and glaring with angry yellow eyes. It looked mad, madder than Mason could remember any other doll looking.

And it was the cutest thing Lisa had ever seen.

"You're so adorable!" She squealed, making both puppet and Mason jump. The puppet readjusted it's grip, now pointing the knife at her while Mason stared at her with a dumbfounded expression.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" He yelled. "We're being mugged by a possessed puppet, and you think it's cute?! Lisa!"

"But look at it! It's got little mitten hands, and some of the most realistic hair I've ever seen! It's so cute!" She reached for it, only drawing back when it swung the knife wildly at her hands. "Aw, I can't believe Stacy never told me about you!"

"How fucking high are you?!" Mason asked at the same the Puppet yelled "Get the hell out of my house!"

A dull thump sounded behind them, and the two humans turned to see Will staring at the Puppet in shock, Subway bags on the floor around him. "She has a knife." He muttered, sounding just a little bit broken. "Why does she have a knife? I  hid all the knives."

Stacy came charging around him, more bags hanging from her arm. She went right pass Mason and Lisa, and grabbed the knife away from the Puppet. She set it down on the counter then grabbed the Puppet up and hugged her close, though she resisted.

"They broke into the bedroom!" She insisted, jabbing a mitten hand at the two. "They broke in! I didn't break out, I swear!" Her voice held a desperate edge to it, one that made Lisa feel bad for being curious at all. For one white hot second, she worried Stacy might be the type to punish the poor thing for this.

"Scout- Scout it's fine! I'm not mad." Stacy turned to glare at Lisa. "At you, anyways." She finished, a stern tone to her voice. Lisa knew immediately she had to try and defuse the situation.

"Aw, c'mon Stace! You can't fault me for thinking you guys were hiding something in there. And, I was right! You were hiding this adorable little thing! How could you do that to me Stacy?" She gave puppy dog eyes, but her friend just sighed.

"You're lucky I only have one hand, or I'd smack you." She deadpanned.

"Fair enough." The blonde grinned. "Let me make it up to you. I can make this little cutie some new shirts, so she's not wearing that filthy one all the time."

Stacy paused. She... didn't actually know if Scout could take off her shirt. She supposed she could always wear any new ones over it, but wasn't sure.

"I don't know..." Stacy said out loud. She looked over to where Mason was helping Will pick up their food, a quiet conversation passing between them. She wasn't too sure what they were talking about, but figured it had to be Scout.

"Aw, c'mon! It shouldn't be too hard. What is she, about American Girl doll size? I make clothes in that size all the time for my sisters."

"...I'll think about it." Stacy finally said, as Scout climbed up onto her shoulder, and to the top of her head. The Puppet pulled on her hair, but Stacy was able to keep herself from reacting to the pain. It wasn't that bad, compared to what she'd been through already. And she didn't want to remove the Puppet anyways, in case she went back to being a recluse.

Lisa helped get some plates set up and distribute the food, chattering all the while about all the clothes she was going to make for Scout. Shirts, hats, even tiny mittens for when it got cold out. Scout found it all very absurd, although Stacy seemed interested in it.

'I'm not going to need those things anyways. Why is Stacy even humoring her?' Scout watched as the Hosts all sat and started to eat, still perched on her Host's head. She desperately wanted to try what they were eating, but turned away when Stacy offered her some. 'You don't even want to stay. No point in trying it anyway. Besides, it's just dumb Host feed.'

After lunch Mason and Lisa left for home, with Mason promising not to let Lisa have anymore weed. Meanwhile Will went to return the big truck they'd used, leaving Stacy and Scout alone. The Puppet took the time to look around, noting how many boxes there were stacked against the walls. Some of them had writing on them, but many were blank. Stacy sighed as she took in all the blank ones, hand on her hip.

"Would it really kill him to label things for once." She muttered, then gave Scout a grim look. "He did this when he moved up here. Didn't write down what was in a single box, and then ended up buying a lot of stuff he didn't need to simply because he couldn't find it." She grabbed a small knife out of her pocket, opening it with some difficulty, then jabbed it into one of the unmarked boxes. "Let's see which one of these has my comics in it..."

Scout watched her open the box from the couch, listening to the noises of frustration when what the Host wanted wasn't there. She wasn't deterred, though, and quickly moved to the next unlabeled box after scrawling on the newly opened one with a smelly black marker. Each new box held either a groan of frustration, or a shout of excitement as Stacy searched through each one for what she needed.

"Y'know, this is almost like Christmas. Except, more annoying cause I'm trying to find my stuff, rather than getting new stuff." She said after a while of of box opening. She finished writing and turned to the Puppet, who was absorbed in one of the comics she'd found. Speaking of, we'll probably be going to my grandpa's cabin with my family for Christmas this year. I should probably figure out how to tell them about you."

"Why?" Scout asked. She didn't see a point to

"Well, you'd be coming with us, obviously." Stacy told her, and the Puppet felt herself freeze up at the implication. The Host didn't notice. "My brother, Danny, he's gonna love you!"

'No I'm not.' She thought sadly as the human rambled on about her brother. 'I'm not going anywhere else if I can help it.'

Her plan had been working, quite well actually. She'd felt tired, lethargic even. And each movement had felt more and more difficult as time passed, to the point where she'd been sure it was about to end any day.

And then Stacy's fucking friends had opened the fucking door, and Stacy had grabbed her. Now she felt stronger than ever, and her plan was ruined.

No, she realized suddenly, while Stacy continued talking about her parents, not entirely ruined. She remembered something Riley had told her, before she'd been stitched to her very first Host. The bond relied on physical contact, but also proximity. Her energy would drain faster if she was further away.

"Hey, Host." She piped up, interrupting the human, who turned to look at her with a confused(and slightly hurt, but Scout ignored that) expression.

"Hmm?" She tilted her head, still bent over a half opened box. When Scout didn't answer immediately she started to get worried and straightened up. "What? Is something wrong?"

For a moment, Scout didn't speak, staring down at the colorful pages spread out in front of her. She didn't want to do this, but wasn't any other choice. Not for her, anyways. Never for her.

'No turning back now. This Puppet's going down! Before anyone else gets hurt...'

"Do you think we could have a window open tonight?"

#hello puppets #outside #fanfiction #scout #stacy stein #will carson #Lisa Montgomery #Mason Kamiya

[yamithediaperdork]

It’s a living (Ben 10 omiverse)

it was a nice and peaceful day in Bellwood for a change, though considering it wasn't the main stream universe's Bellwood that made a degree of sense. In fact even as the main verse Ben sat across from his counterpart, enjoying the Mr.smoothies of universe 23 they could both relax as Seven-seven and Tetrax had decided to stay on earth and work as a team with 23, so were out patrolling. "So, not that it's not awesome to see you from time to time..but usually you showing up means something about to go all fucky fucky...Sooo what brings you here?" 23 asked. "things don't ALWAYS go bad when i show up!" Ben protested, huffing a little. "Mmmhmmm..So you showed up and I get attacked by my future team mates..you show up and the Ben war..you show up and Mad Ben.." 23 said, counting off on his fingers. "..Damn uh.. well I promise, no world ending stuff this time." Ben said, sweat dropping. "I uh.. ok so i told you I recently moved out and got my own place right?" "And yet you haven't invited me back once." 23 said and blew a raspberry to show he wasn't really offended. "eheheh well fact of the matter is I mightttta gone a little beyond my means and kinda sorta..I'm like a week from getting kicked out." Ben said, poking his fingers together sheepishly. "Heh, and what, you want a place to crash?" "welll more thinking maybe since I've been helping you and all that jazz, you could spot me a couple of grand to get me in the clear and stuff?" Ben asked hopefully. "eh..I learned the hard way not to loan friends money Ben. it's why me and my Gwen aren't on speaking terms." 23 said, then took a big drink of his smoothie. "however, I AM willing to help you MAKE the money you need, and more." "...Doing what?" Ben asked, confused. "Cuz gotta say, I've tried the retail thing back home and when you have to stop doing stock to fight alien invaders, you don't keep your job for long." "Pffft as if I'd let you work retail! Nah man! You know I've leveraged my frame and endorsed a TON of things right? Part of how I'm rolling in dough? Well I got this one wanna be sponsor who I'm not big on the product, but they are offering a crazy amount of cash. I figure they'll settle for the Ben of anther universe, you do the gig, we split the money 50/50, and everybody wins." 23 said, taking out a note pad and a pen. "Look uh, not to sound ungrateful, but if I'm the one doing the modeling or whatever, shouldn't I get more then half? and what are you writing down?" Ben asked. "That's how much your half of the deal will be, and I think you'll find it more then fair." 23 said and smirked. Ben frowned and picked up the piece of paper, looking down, then did a double take as his eyes went wide. "Holy crap! what am i modeling off? Missiles?!" he asked, his voice going higher then normal. "nah, no weapons of mass destruction in that sense.. though bet you'll still clear rooms." 23 said and gave a impish grin. "You'll be working for huggies." "..Say what?"

After half a hour of back and forth, and Ben admitting he really didn't have a better option, the two took off, transforming into XCLER8 and Speedyquick instead of hailing a cab and made their way to the huggies headquarters. since 23 was used to this sort of thing Ben mostly let him talk over the contract and tried not to get boarded out of his mind as they talked returns and profit margins, only tuning in when the executive they were talking to (who if Ben didn't know better, he'd swear was this universes version of Charmcaster) brought up diaper usage. "Of course seeing your other self in our new line of Lil' stinkers would do wonders for our promotion of them, but if we could show them being used it would really help sell other points. we're taking photo shoots for magazine spreads and of course some tv and internet ad's. the more you and your client can promise us in terms of selling these diapers are for big babies who need to be put in their place, the more zero's we can add to your check." She said, smiling. "Wait..as in..you know.." Ben interrupted before 23 could talk, and unable to say what he was thinking, and blushing badly, he make fart noises with his mouth. "Heh, yes, we want you to go dooty in your diaper." Hope said, smirking and watching the two boys reactions. "N-No way! I mean I'll wear them and crawl around and stuff, but I'm NOT taking a dump in diapers!" Ben huffed and crossed his arms, shaking his head and well, looking just perfect for the target audience. "Maybe I should give you and your client a moment to talk this over. we can make a deal without the diaper usage but it's going to cut into the bottom line." Hope said and got up and left the room. "Can you BE anymore of a brat?" 23 hissed at Ben. "But..but..she wants me to-" "Yes, I know. I was there. Look Ben, I'm putting my neck on the line for you here, if my other sponsors hear about what a crabby brat your being here, it could affect me. Also your the one who came to me for help, so wouldn't like crapping yourself in huggies and making a boat load of cash once be better then doing a bunch more commercials to make the same amount? And who the hell from your universe is gonna see you doing this anyways?" 23 asked. "But I don't wanna poop in a diaper!" Ben whined and shook his head. "and you can't make me! so th-" he started to add, then suddenly he was yanked out of his chair and over 23's laps. "W-what are you doing?! and when the hell did you get so strong!?" "I've been working out since the mad Ben thing. and I'm gonna do what anyone does with a whinny brat.." 23 said and smirked, tugging down the back of Ben's pants. "I'm gonna spank you." Yanking Ben's skid marked stained briefs up and giving the bigger boy a wedgie and exposing those cheeks, 23 paused. "Last chance to be a good boy and let me handle this." he said. "Y-You don't have the balls!" Ben cried out, his voice carrying. "I gave you a chance." 23 said and shrugged, then brought down his hand on Ben's bubble butt over and over, turning the cheeks nice and red as Ben bawled like a baby.

Since the office wasn't sound proofed, and many people knew that both of the Ben's were in the office, it attracted A LOT of attention as the bigger Ben's voice filled the floor with the sounds of wails and there was the unmistakable sound of buns being tanned. Hope smirked as she listened, feeling she had pegged the relationship between the two boys right, and waited till there was just the sound of the bigger Ben sobbing before going back into her office, and fighting back a chuckle as she saw the bigger boy in the corner, his pants in his chair and his undies still hiked up. the boy had his nose to the corner and his hands on his head, and was whimpering and sobbing gently. "I'm sorry for that, somebody needed a attuide adjustment." 23 said. "oh don't be! I just wish we had recorded that! would of been perfect for the set up of a commercial!" Hope said and chuckled. "well I can always spank him again." 23 offered, chuckling to as Ben whined loudly from the corner. "So, may I assume that your both on board with widdle Benny making uh-ohs and tinkles in his diapers?" Hope asked. "I dunno, Ben, are you ok with messing your diapers?" 23 asked. "Y-Yes! No more spankies!" Ben cried out, his hands going from his head to covering his poor buns. "i think that answers your question." "excellent, then I'll draw up the contract, and if we hurry we can have Ben in the studio in about 2 hours. Make sure he gets LOTS to eat, we wanna show off how the Lil' stinkers hold up to even the biggest messes." Hope said. as 23 and Hope chuckled, Ben whimpered and found himself sucking on his thumb having ALL the regrets.

a hour and half later and a semi pot belly Ben was leaning back in his folding chair, in front of the set and belching off and on. He still hadn't been able to reclaim his pants though he'd been allowed to tug the wedgie out at least, though this just got loads of comments about how diapers might be a good full time choice for him. Ben had swallowed back any come backs or threats he had in mind as every time 23 was quick to pat his still sore booty. going on Hope's advice 23 had forced Ben to chow down, though while the catering table was set up with all sorts of awesome snack foods, including Ben's favorite, chilli fries, it was the large pyramid of at least 23 jar's of prune baby food that 23 had directed Ben to, helping the bigger boy and spoon feeding him as the crew setting up the large nursery chuckled. "Come on ben, one jar to go. you can do it." 23 was saying, grabbing the last jar and smirking at Ben's baby food covered face. "D-Dude..I'm not joking..if I eat one more bite I'ma hurl." Ben whined. "that's what you said two jars ago." "by all means, call my bluff, just when your wearing baby food on your shoes, remember i warned you." Ben said with a weak smile then a LOUD and nasty belch. 23 made a face and waved the air in front of him. "Man, if it smells that bad now.. Maybe i should excuse myself to the other room when you crap yourself." he teased. "N-no way..if I'm doing this..you're watching AND smelling!" Ben whined and Belched again. "Can i get something to drink?" he asked. instantly he realized he should of worded his request better as 23 got a large baby bottle filled with what was hopefully milk, and popped it in Ben's mouth. it only took a few sucks on the nipple to realize that of course, it was formula, and Ben scuched up his face. "Hehehe I have to say Ben, you are JUST too cute like this. I might have to try and lock you into a long term agreement here." 23 teased then winced at the glare Ben gave him. "Kidding! Kidding!" pushing the bottle out of his mouth, Ben went to say something but was cut off as Hope strolled onto the set. "Ok people, time to make some magic. baby Ben, we need you in wardore." she said then pasued. "Oh, Do you know how to put a diaper on?" she asked, suddenly looking sheepish. "N-No." ben whined and a loud toot came out his bottom. "Oh er..I don't think we have time to teach you before you unload." Hope said, holding her nose. "it's ok, I'll diaper the big baby." 23 said happily. "of course you will." Ben muttered, but let himself be lead off to a side room where there was star on the door, with his name on it. "great...I'm about to become famous as a diaper boy.." Ben whined. lead inside 23 just chuckled. "Mr.Devil, he's ready for his close up."

The diaper was MASSIVE, and for a second both boys just stared at it, wondering if Ben was gonna be able to even walk in the thing. it was easily the equal to 10 normal diapers layered together and was a soft baby blue (whether that was a marketing choice or just when they had been making these things expect 23 to model them, neither boy was sure) anther loud toot from Ben's back door which sadly filled the small dressing room had both boys holding their noses, and broke them out of their trance. "I..I don't wanna do this. I'm scared." Ben whined, looking at 23 with pleading eyes and starting to squirm in a way that told him their deadline was coming up fast. "Sorry buddy, we signed the contract. but I'll make sure this goes as fast as possible. all you have to do with whimper and cry, and act like you've been acting, and I'll be doing the voice over." 23 said and reached up, patting Ben's head. Ben whined but let himself be laid down on the teddy bear print changing mat on the floor and just lifted his arms to let 23 tug his shirt off. "we're gonna have to enroll you in a exercise program if we need to keep feeding you like this." 23 teased, noting that while Ben wasn't chubby, he had enough pudge on him to look a bit like baby fat, and the baby food in his tummy wasn't helping. Sliding Ben's undies off 23 tossed them in a trash can behind him, then unfolded the massive diaper as Ben whined. "W-why'd you toss out my undies? A-and were are my pants? F-For after?" he asked, feeling so small and helpless as 23 lifted Ben up but his legs to get the diaper under him. "hush, you let me worry about that..though..heh.." 23 paused the look down at Ben's exposed crotch. "Didn't know you shave." "I uh..haven't gotten my pubes yet.." the bigger in so many ways, but not where it counted boy said. "well that explains your cute widdl-" "Watch it!" Ben huffed and for the first time moved to use his Omimatrix. "Ok ok..Sorry." 23 said sweat dropping. "I've had THREE girls interested in me by the way, so it can't be THAT small!" Ben added and 23 smirked and powdered him lots. "And how many of them saw you down there?" 23 asked, as he tugged the diaper up. "and of those that saw, how many stayed interested?" with the diaper tapped up Ben sat up with a bit of effort, but was blushing and wouldn't look 23 in the eyes. "L-Let's just get this over with." Ben huffed and tried to get up on his own, only to keep falling back on his puffy butt. "That's what I thought." 23 chuckled and then held out his hands, Helping Ben get to his feet. the bigger boys BIG diaper had his legs spread and Ben was barley able to waddle, several times needing to stop and take 23's hands as they made their way out onto the set. 'If i make it though this I'm moving to a smaller apartment so i never have to ask this son of a bitch for a favor again.' Ben thought.

Hope grinned ear to ear and had some of the photographers snap shots of Ben needing help with walking, before coming over with a baby blue bonnet and bib that had white text in comic sans, that read BRAT. Ben would of argued about the add ons, since he was pretty sure that hadn't been in the original deal, if it wasn't for the fact he was using every ounce of control NOT to mess himself too soon and have to start all over. "There we go, don't you just look adorable~" Hope teased and tickled Ben's chin. "A-Ah.S-Stop that..w-we hafa hurry up..I..I can't.." Ben whined and rubbed his tummy, a muffled fart coming out and making hope take a step back. As they started to film, Ben for the most part blissfully blacked out, but of course got to watch the commercial after, with everyone praising him on what a good boy he had been.

"Hey everyone, Ben 23 here, and bringing you yet anther great product. So, brats, we all know one and we've all thought about putting them in their place, but where do you even start to get what you need for it?" Came 23's voice, on a screen of black. "Well the answer for that, Is huggies. That's right, the same company you've been trusting to look after your little bundles of joy is here to help you put those same bundles of joy turned into over sized brats back into little baby's." the screen came into focus and there was Ben, a glazed look in his eyes and holding his tummy, in all his big baby glory. "Most of you know about my other universe counterpart, but what you don't know is that he's a grade A BRAT. as a favor to his friends back in his verse, we're giving Baby Ben the punishment he deserves. isn't that right baby ben?" 23's voice asked as Ben whined and pouted. "Pwease, no wanna go poopies! I'm sowwy!" Ben cried out. "now now Ben, you don't want anther spanking do you?" 23's voice asked, and it was the yelp of fear that sold it as Ben totally lost control. the camera zoomed in as the back of Ben's diaper rapidly started to expand, and loud gross farts were heard. Ben for his part was face down ass up, and pounding a fist on the floor as he filled his diapers, crying and howling but really, it only made the shot better. "Lil stinkers is made with a new material that allows for up to 40 times the normal amounts of waste, which means even with 22 jars of baby food in baby Ben's tummy these diapers won't leak, or your money back." 23 said. the diaper only started to take on a dirty stain of brown in the back as the material reached down to Ben's knees. "with our new smell block guards in the diaper, you'll only get the faintest whiff of the the mess the big babies made. Sure it spares the brat but if your brat is anything widdle Benny here, you're gonna be punished enough changing him." with a few last sputtering farts Ben was apparently finished and sucking on his thumb as he got up on his knees, looking to the cameras. "C-Change pwease?" Ben whined. "Oh silly Ben, if we just changed you right away, where would the fun be in that? with added rash protection built into the diaper, along with bratty baby brand powder, Our little Benny can go 12 hours without a change!" hearing that Ben bawled again, both hands coming up to his eyes and there was just no two ways about it, he looked like a giant baby. "See you in 12 hours little guy! enjoy your poopie diaper." 23 said cheerfully. Ben's cries were muted as they went to the last of it. "Lil stinkers by huggies. put your brat back in diapers, and in their place. Available at a super market near you in two weeks."

Ben naturally wasn't actually kept in the poopie diaper for 12 hours, though they did take the chance to get all the pictures they needed for him in his poopie diapers, with 23 posing in some of them with him. Such as having Ben in his arms, Ben over his lap and pretending to give him a messy spanking, and of course 23 pulling the back of the diaper open as Ben sat on his ass, hugging a teddy bear and sucking on a pacifier and 23 holding his nose. If 23 was being truthfully though he was glad he was wearing his baggy pants as the site of Ben like this almost had little hearts in his eyes and he was tempted to try and keep Ben like this. Still a contract was a contract, and once they had enough footage they got Ben changed into a clean diaper but out of the bib and bonnet, and with his t-shirt back on. Ben was actually in the crib that was part of the set up when he came out of it, the staff and Hope and 23 where having a few drinks. "C-Can somebody come let me out? And.. get me big boy undies and pants?" Ben called, using the crib railing to haul himself to his feet but swaying dangerously if he let go, so knowing he couldn't get out. if the crew heard him, they ignored him and kept talking among themselves and laughing, annoying Ben. "I SAID, SOMEBODY LET ME OUT!" Ben yelled and stomped a foot, slipping and falling on his padded rear. "oh great, the baby is awake." 23 said, smirking and winking to the crew who all laughed. "Your not freaking funny! Let me outta here NOW or I'm going way big!" Ben growled and started to fiddle with his watch. "Way big?" a crew member asked. "as in he's gonna be a big boy?" "No! as in the alien who's 100 feet tall!" Ben huffed and got the watch ready to go. "-sigh- I'll handle this." 23 said and walked over, holding his hands up. "heyy heyy..it's OK Benny. we don't need to bring aliens into this. you're all done here and we'll cash your check at the first bank of Ben then you can go home. OK?" "i want outta this diaper, I want outta this crib! and i want big boy undies and pants!" Ben huffed, keeping his hand over his watch. "heh, your terms are agreeable. we only re-diapered you because you were out of it, and I don't really wanna change anther poopie diaper." 23 lied. He would of totally loved to keep changing Ben's diapers but clearly the little guy had been pushed to his limit.

As it turned out they couldn't find pants in the studio for Ben, or a pair of undies so the poor hero ended up standing in line with 23 at the bank in his t-shirt and diapers, which normally would of caused problems but with 23's technically owning the bank, it was brushed over. The first thing they did after getting the check cashed was go shopping and get Ben a pair of sumo slammer boxers, then off to the food court for him to get the taste of the baby food and formula out of his system, though he wasn't able to eat his full order. 23 joked about how they should of gotten him a happy meal as he wiped up the chilli stains off of Ben's face. after that it was time to go home and Ben gave 23's hand a shake. "..ok, you saved my ass from having to move back home..buttt don't expect me to come back here till this ad campaign is over and done." Ben said. "heh, come on, didn't a SMALL part of you have fun?" 23 asked. "hahahaha NO. Today was the most horrible day of my life, and with the shit I've been though, thats saying something. Maybe you can come over to MY universe sometime and be a diaper boy for me though." "heh. or just show up with a diaper bag." "..Shutting up." with that Ben went back to his home universe, very much richer. Or so he thought.

as it turned out their money while looking the same on the outside, was made differently and raised all sorts of flags when Ben went to go and deposit it in his universe. there was a public cry of outrage that a hero like Ben would try and destabilize a local economy like that, and there was talks of official charges of counterfeiting and maybe even jail time. Not even able to get his cash back, and the Plumbers having to give him the cold shoulder publicly to save face, Ben decided to take a little bit of a vacation (2-7 months while the plumbers legal team got him out of the mess) back in universe 23, figuring that 23 owned him, AND wanting to give him a piece of his mind.

"baby Ben! back so soon?" 23 asked, delighted as a red faced Ben made it to his pent house. on the way over Ben had been recognized, teased and scolded for not being in his diapers and had seen billboard with him in all his blacked out diaper baby glory. "ha.Ha. we have a problem." Ben said, and then nodded to 23's couch. "mind if I take a seat?" "Only if you promise not to make a puddle." 23 joked, but moved aside as Ben came in and flopped down. Ben spent the next 10 minutes explaining out what had happened, as 23 looked upset and shook his head. "Man, that sucks. I'm sorry, i didn't know!" 23 said. "well, I need a place to stay for a little while till i get the OK to go back..so I was wondering if y-" "would put you up here for a few months, heh,. that can be arranged. don't think you'll be able to get a place on your own here unless you just did more commercials though, rent in the city has gone up since i live here." "Not like i have a penny to my name anyways, and was gonna ask if you'd rent me a place..Buttt staying here I guess won't be so bad." Ben said with a little smile. "there is a small price I'd like you to pay..But in return for humoring me on this onnnne tiny little thing, I swear you'll want for nothing while staying with me. all the junk food you could want and any video games, the whole nine yards." 23 said, blushing a little now. "..why am i getting a bad feeling about this?" Ben asked. "well see.. they didn't need the stuff they used in your commercial after you left..so they gave it to me for free..and you were just SO god damn cute.." 23 said, getting up and leading Ben to yup, a recreation of the nursery from the set. "FUCK NO!" "oh come on Ben! i promise! no baby food this time and pop in your baby bottles! Pleasssse?" 23 asked, bringing his hands together. "why in the world would i agree to do that for a few months? I could just go do anther commercial, then get my own place here!?" Ben pointed out. "one, because as your agent I control whether you do anther shoot, it's actually part of the contract, two, if I tell my bank not to cash your check who else do you think will cover that much. three, and this is the kicker. where else can you go to with ease to hide out? you really think mad Ben is gonna welcome you with open arms?" "..Fuck my life!"

And so one week after promising himself he'd never be a big baby again, Ben found himself in two of the thick blue diaper's  and in a t-shirt top, crawling behind behind 23 and pouting like crazy. "Don't you think top is over kill?" Ben whined. "I'm the one paying for them. so just shush and look adorable." "Not funny." Ben pouted and then realized it would be harder then hell to get off and on the couch's and just sat on his diaper butt in the living room. "So what d-" "I want chilli cheese fires, I want a two liter of coke, and I want the latest sumo slammer game five minutes ago!" Ben huffed then grinned. "..Demanding aren't we?" "and i quote: I swear you'll want for nothing. I want all of that." Ben said smugly. "you know, i could of just spanked you." 23 teased, going to grab the phone and make the food order. instead of Ben telling him off however, the threat had a amusing and smelly effect instead. Ben froze at the memory of that and then well, with him being double diapered it was a little hard to tell since there was no smell, but 23 could of sworn Ben just got a little taller. "heh, Did somebody just make me a present?" "NO!...yes." "Good boy. I'll change you after you eat, if your a good boy." 23 said and winked. "...this is gonna be a long 2 months."

the end?

[kn1feinthec0ffee]

in too deep (part 5) - jules

jules x reader

TW: drugging

warnings: beating, homophobia, threat of death, i think that’s pretty much it??

notes: ooooohhh we’re getting closer to the end! not that i’m excited for this to end, but i’m just excited for you guys to see it

i really hope that me putting homophobia in this story doesn’t make you guys think i’m homophobic bc that’s the farthest thing from true. since i changed the gender of the mickey stand-in, i felt like it might be more interesting to add another dynamic into the story so it wasn’t just a word for word copy of the original except with a girl, bc that seems really one-dimensional to me. i feel like i need to put one of those things they have in movie credits like “the views in this film in no way reflect the views of the studio that produced it” kinda thing

also i think this may be my favorite part that i’ve written, bc if you didn’t notice, i’ve never left the reader’s perspective during the whole thing, so i had to improv a bit during the parts of the movie we didn’t get to see with mickey, and maybe i’m just a lil proud of myself :’)

******************************

for the first time since you came up with your brilliant plan to siphon the gas, you actually felt a glimmer of hope. jules was smart, she’d surely find a way out of the house; and she was damn loyal, too, so you knew there was no chance she’d leave you behind. 

sadly all those hopes were dashed when you heard the basement door creak open again. 

fuck, this whole plan was dependent on the fact that no one else came downstairs! your hands clammed up, your heart rate quickening as footsteps descended the stairs, stopping dead in their tracks once they reached the bottom. 

  “where the hell’d that little bitch go?” george roared, scanning every nook and cranny in the basement to see if jules was hiding anywhere. “answer me!”

you stayed silent, more out of fear than some sort of strategy. you quickly realized this was the wrong decision as george viciously backhanded you across the face. your head whipped to the side, eyes blinking back into focus from the impact. you felt something sticky on your lips and realized it was blood. 

  “you’re so angry,” you groaned. “why? just ‘cause you’re shooting blanks?” you pouted in mock sympathy. this sudden boost of confidence seemed to be a mistake as you saw george’s expression shift into a dangerously content one. 

  “i’m gonna rip your fuckin’ heart out.” your face dropped as he spoke. “i understand you not wantin’ to tell me where she is. in fact, if i were in your position i suppose i’d do the same. but god almighty i’m gonna watch ya’ die. i’m gonna hurt ya’.”

you were stunned into silence but you decided saying something, anything, would be better than nothing. “she’s gone, man. you just need to give it up.”

this seemed to strike a nerve in him. he turned towards you again and delivered another swift slap, knocking the wind out of you. he smacked you again, the back of your head knocking into the pole and causing your consciousness to fade for a moment. 

  “you think i’m full of hot air, don’t you? only good on roughin’ you up?” he asked rhetorically. “you know i worked as a door-to-door salesman for a few years? learned a lot, but the most important thing i learned was how to read people. and at the end of the day, you’re just an open book, sweetheart.”

the name sounded like poison dripping from his lips. it made you sick, that name belonged to jules. 

  “i know your type, believe you me, i’ve seen quite a few in my time. you see, you like to think you’re tough, strong, resilient, but at the end of the day, you just value her life above yours.” he laughed to himself. “am i right?”

he chuckled again when you didn’t answer. “that’s alright, you don’t have to answer, i know i’m right. well, you people are more loyal than i thought. guess i gotta give credit where credit’s due.”

  “fuck you.” you spat. “don’t fucking talk about her like that.” he stood up again, this time grabbing something from a shelf before making his way back to you. 

  “alright, no more pussyfootin’ around, time to get down to business.” he revealed the knife, positioning it under your ear as he prepared to slice it off. 

  “sheisn’tgoingtothecops!” you breathed out quickly, hoping he’d let you keep both ears with the statement. 

  “what? what’d you say?” he seemed caught of guard by the sudden admission, backing off of you. 

  “not yet, anyway.” you took a moment to catch your breath. “i told her to wait. yeah, we got a little meet up spot. now if i don’t show up there in an hour or so, then yeah, cops galore. you’re fucked, buddy. but, if i do show up, we just continue on our way like none of this happened.”

you took another shaky breath before you continued. “if we’re being honest here, i don’t want the cops involved any more than you do. y’know, the whole ‘not gainfully employed’ thing? the cops aren’t a huge fan of that one.”

george seemed to take this into consideration, nodding quietly to himself. “what about sweetiepie?”

  “her? i don’t give a fuck about her, she’s the whole reason i’m in this mess.” you winked at her, hoping she’d understand the message. 

george snapped the blade shut, producing the key from to the cuffs from his jacket pocket. 

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

  “any last words for this son of a bitch?” george asked gloria as he trained the pistol on you.

  “oh, i do wish you’d handled things differently. we could’ve had somethin’ beautiful here.” she smiled sadly, mourning what could’ve been. 

  “i’ll see you in hell,” george mumbled as he opened the door for you. you stepped into the doorway, only to stop dead in your tracks when you heard your girlfriend’s voice. shit.

  “stop, don’t kill her!” jules shouted from the top of the steps, baby doll in hand. “i will smash it!” she held it over the railing, dangling precariously above the hardwood flooring beneath. 

  “whew, that was close.” george laughed, closing the door behind you. “unhand my baby!” gloria whined. 

  “alright, missy, calm down. no one’s gonna get hurt.” he kept the gun aimed at your head, but gloria quickly pried it out of his hands and took a shot at jules. she crouched to shield herself from the bullet that thankfully missed, but in doing so let go of the baby that plummeted to the floor, shattering into hundreds of pieces. 

  “get your ass down here or i’ll blow her brains out!” george shouted gruffly as jules descended the staircase. she ran to you, hugging you close and helping you to stand on your injured leg. 

gloria rushed out of the room, bloody pieces of ceramic in hand as george turned back to you. “look what you gone and did. what did i do to deserve you two?”

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

  “cooking’s a zen art for my dear gloria. i’ve found there’s a method to it: the more upset she is, the bigger the dish it takes to pull her out.” george explained. “needless to say, i think the two of you just summoned up a banquet.”

the two of you had been crudely duct-taped to some chairs in the dining room, forced to listen to the stuffy dialogue between the husband and wife. “why? why do you keep her down there?” jules asked. 

  “it’s not what you think.” he looked over his shoulder to make sure she wasn’t listening. “my gloria, she’s always wanted a child. unfortunately, the good lord did not have that in his plans for us. so, i had to take matters into my own hands.”

  “oh, so you kidnapped her.” jules stated bluntly. george glared at her, but continued his explanation. 

  “as you get older, things get... complicated, and i swear to god i had no ill intentions. i just wanted to make my wife happy.” he smiled. “and she was for a bit, until she started to remind her of what she couldn’t have. she asked me to make her go away, but i couldn’t bring myself do that, so the basement is our compromise.” 

  “dinner is served!” gloria announced, wheeling in a cart full of dishes of shepherd’s pie. she placed one on everyone’s plate before she sat down. they quickly said grace before digging into their food. 

  “so are you guys gonna kill us or...? what’s the deal?” jules asked matter-of-factly. you wanted to nudge her shoulder and ask her what in the hell made her so bold, but you didn’t want to cause a scene. 

  “george, you didn’t tell them?” gloria asked confusedly. “i wanted to make ‘em squirm a bit,” he smirked. 

  “t-tell us what?” you cursed yourself for stuttering but you couldn’t help it, it came out when you were anxious. 

  “we’re not gonna kill you.” george mumbled, almost sounding disappointed. “i said we’re not gonna kill ‘ya, what are you deaf?” you stifled a grin at jules, not wanting to change their decision to set you free. “we’ve decided that, despite your piss-poor behavior, the logistics of it just don’t make no sense for us.”

  “sooner or later someone’s gonna come lookin’ for you two. now, i can hide a body like the easter bunny hides an egg, but the two of you have been sweatin’, spittin’, and pissin’ all over this place.” he paused to take a sip of his drink. “anywho, i’m bound to miss a spot. i figure we have a better chance of hitting the road. we’ll give it 48 hours, tip off the police, they’ll come by and pick ya’ up. i reckon you’ll do some time for whatever the hell you two did, but at least you’ll still be drawing breath. so congratulations, you should be thankful. you just won the damn lottery.”

jules spared a glance at you as if to say, what now? “take your time eatin’ you got another couple days in those chairs.” george muttered as he took another bite of his meal. 

screw it, you thought. we’re hungry and going to jail in the next two days, what harm could a nice meal do? you both picked up your forks and knives and tucked in to the plate in front of you. you nearly let out a moan in satisfaction as the food hit your tongue. you scooped up more greedily as you had no clue if and when the next time you’d get fed would be. 

  “wait,” jules swallowed the food in her mouth. “what’s gonna happen to her?” gloria glanced over to george, waiting for the answer to the question as well.

  “well, i’m sure they’ll put her some place nice. these orphanages, i hear they’re like five-star resorts.” george answered. 

  “does that upset you?” gloria turned to jules, a smile of mock empathy on her face. “anything’s better than down there.” jules mumbled. 

  “you got a heart of gold, jules. is your full name julia?” jules nodded in response. “my mother’s name was julia. she had a good heart, too, you remind me of her.”

  “she died of cancer when i was real little. it was a slow, painful process, but i was with her every step of the way!” she grinned as her husband blew her a kiss. “the day before she died, she told me to look in the closet, that i’d find a special surprise for me in there. it was a package, wrapped up nice and pretty, with a tiny card with my name on it. she insisted i opened it, so i wiped away my tears, tore open the paper and there it was. a doll.” 

everything stilled. every sound, the scraping of cutlery on the plate, the sound of everyone breathing, even the breeze blowing through the window decided this was a nice time to take a break. 

  “she said it was a magic doll,” she continued. “that no matter how sad i became, and believe me, i became very sad, i’d always have him with me. my ethan.”

your gut instincts finally kicked in as you spat out the food that was in your mouth, the gross pile of chewed up beef and potatoes looking oddly blurry to you. jules looked equally as mortified, probably even more since she was the one who brought about the end of the magic doll. 

  “and she was right; he was magical. and you took him away from me.” she grinned her creepy stepford wife grin once more. jules mumbled something but everything sounded miles away from you as your head swam. 

  “wha-what is this?” you slurred, the bright colors of the table morphing into one another. 

  “this is a drug overdose, y/n.” he chuckled when you sluggishly turned your head towards him. “i know, i know, i fibbed about lettin’ you live, but see, you had a veritable pharmacy in that bag of yours. you two just munched down enough pills to put a bull to bed,” his voice muffled into indiscernible nonsense, though you knew he was still speaking. 

  “f-fuck you,” jules managed, still keeping her head up. you, on the other hand, were slumped over, teetering on the edge of unconsciousness. 

george got up from his seat, pulling your head up by your hair. “not so tough now, are ya’?” he jested. 

jules muttered something in your defense, but as soon as your head dropped, you were down for the count; just missing the hopeful ring of the doorbell, possibly signaling you might live to see another day. 

******************************

i should probably put a link to previous parts at the top but i have no clue how to do that lol

tags: @emmyrosee​ @flowers-in-your-hayr​ @willyourecognisemee​ @bill-skarsgard-owns-my-ass​

#jules #jules x reader #jules oneshot #jules imagine #jules fanfiction #jules fanfic #jules fic #jules villains #villains #villains 2019 #maika monroe #maika monroe character #my writing

[aswithasunbeam]

hamilton spending his birthday in bed with eliza and the kids doting on him would make the cutest lil story!

I felt suddenly inspired to write this! Hope you enjoy!!

Of Sprained Ankles and Ice Cream

[Read on AO3]

Rated: Teen and Up

Summary: Alexander spends his 40th birthday trapped in bed with a badly sprained ankle. Thanks to his loving wife and family, however, the day turns out far better than expected.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Eliza demanded.

Alexander gave her a guilty glance over his shoulder as he continued to wrestle unsteadily with the stuck bedroom window, his bandaged right foot hovering an inch off the floor. “It’s stuffy in here,” he said. “I wanted some fresh air.”

“And you couldn’t wait two minutes for me to come back? Doctor Charlton just said you should stay off your feet as much as possible.”

He shrugged, then pulled at the window with renewed force. “Can you help me? I can’t quite get the leverage I need.”

She shook her head as she moved across the bedroom to assist him. Ever since Robert Troup had brought him home from the fire patrol with a badly turned ankle from a spill on the icy streets, it was all she could do to keep him still. She’d get him settled with his medicine, some tea, and a book, his leg comfortably propped up on just the right number of pillows, only for him to leap back up insisting he needed a different book, paper, any excuse not to stay in place.

The constant up and down wasn’t doing him any favors. His ankle was still horribly swollen and black and blue beneath the tightly wound bandages. He’d been in such pain that morning—pale, sweating, and sick from the constant, throbbing ache—she’d worried he’d truly broken a bone in his fall. When Doctor Charlton had finally arrived an hour ago, his face had fixed in a frown as he’d tried to ascertain that the bone was still firm. It was, he’d decided at last, but he recommended ice and bed rest until the swelling reduced.

Eliza unstuck the window with little effort, and the cold, crisp January air rushed into the room.  “There now. Come on,” she said, ducking under his air to brace him. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

He hopped the few steps back to the bed with her assistance and sat with a sigh. A rueful smile tugged at his lips when he met her eye. “This isn’t how I imagined I’d be spending my fortieth birthday.”

“I know, honey.” It wasn’t what she’d imagined either. All her plans for a grand party had been pushed aside the moment Troup had practically carried her husband through the door last week. “We’ll do something special when you’re better, I promise. For now, you need to rest and heal.”

“I don’t want to rest. I’m bored,” he complained, even as he laid back. She plumped the pillows at the foot of the bed and slowly guided his injured leg back into place. He hissed with pain when her fingers brushed against his bandage.

“I’m sorry,” she said, wincing with sympathy. “Do you want some ice? Or some more brandy?”

“Ice is what got me into this mess. And I can’t have any more brandy without eating something.”

“I’ll bring the stew back up for you, then.” He’d refused it earlier, too nauseated from the pain to have any appetite.

“I’m not hungry.” He flipped the blankets back over his lap with a frustrated huff. She could feel his mood shifting again as it often had over the past week, the pain and boredom combining to leave him supremely grouchy.

Turning to the bedside table, she poured the brandy in the glass decanter out into a small glass and handed it over to him. “Drink. You’ll feel better.”

“I can’t keep drinking brandy on an empty stomach. Are you trying to get me drunk?”

She snapped fingers. “Darn. You figured it out.”

That made him laugh, at least, some of the foul humor easing from his expression. He took a sip and replaced the glass on the table. His hand ran over the spine of the book he’d been reading, and he frowned. “I want something else, I think. Something more cheerful. Maybe Swift?”

He made to rise again, but she caught him by the shoulders. “Stay.”

“But Betsey—”

“No. You’re never going to heal if you keep putting weight on that foot. I’ll get you a different book, and anything else you need for the next few days.”

“I hate this,” he said, real melancholy leaching back into his voice.

“I know,” she consoled him. She couldn’t stand to see him so gloomy on his birthday, but she had little idea how to cheer him up.

“I feel like a prisoner.”  

The comparison sparked a sudden idea. Smiling, she pulled away from him and went to the door. Rather than go to fetch his book, though, she shut the door with a soft snap and turned back to him. His brow wrinkled with confusion.

“A prisoner, you say?” she asked, a hint of flirtation entering her voice as she climbed up next to him.  

A smile curled over his face as she leaned close, her lips ghosting over his neck. His hands settled on her hips. “Mm-hm.”

“Well, then, this won’t do.”

After a long, leisurely kiss, she brought her hands down to his and slowly pushed his arms up over his head to rest against the headboard. She held them in place with her right hand and reached for the tie to the bed curtains with her left, looping the fabric loosely around his wrists.

“Eliza?” He laughed with surprised delight, his head craning to look at the makeshift manacles. “What are you doing?”

“That’s better.” She sat back on her haunches with a grin. “You should have the full prisoner experience so long as you’re being held here.”

“I think this technically kidnapping.”

“Really?”

He nodded.

“Oh. Are you going to press charges, counsellor?”

He laughed again, beaming as he tilted his head, considering. “Being held captive by my beautiful wife? I honestly can’t think of anything better. Please never let me go.”

“Never,” she agreed, leaning over to kiss him again.

He wriggled his wrists from the loose binding and brought his hands down, one going back to her hip while the knuckles of the other caressed her cheek. She rolled on top of him, kissing him with more purpose, all thought of his injury gone from her mind as she pressed closer to him. Her leg moved as she adjusted over him, bumping against the pillows at the foot of the bed and eliciting a sharp yelp of pain from her husband.

“Ow. Damn it.”

“Sorry,” she said, rolling hastily off of him. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, bending forward to adjust the pillows propping up his foot and glowering at his injured limb. He looked up at her regretfully and repeated, “I hate this.”

She rubbed a hand over his tense shoulders, the amorous intent of moments before now gone. “I wish there was more I could do to help you.”

“You’ve been nothing but wonderful,” he countered.

She nuzzled her nose against his neck affectionately before shifting her legs off the bed to stand. “I’ll bring you your book and some ice. Will you at least try to eat something?”

He nodded. “I’ll try.”

She gave his hand a squeeze and headed downstairs towards the kitchen.

Their maid looked up from the ice cream machine when Eliza entered. For all the other surprises she’d had to table due to his injury, this one at least he could still enjoy. Smiling at the young woman, Eliza asked, “How’s the ice cream coming along?”

“Almost ready, ma’am,” Mary answered. “Is Mr. Hamilton feeling any better?”

“He’ll be all right,” Eliza said. She placed the small stew pot back over the fire. “I’m going to heat up some stew for him. He needs some food in his belly so he can take something to manage his pain. Bring the ice cream whenever it’s ready, though. That’ll cheer him up more than anything.”

Mary smiled. “I will, ma’am.”

While the stew heated, Eliza stepped out the back door and scooped up some snow to make a cold pack. Shivering, she hurried back inside, prepared a tray, and peeked at the pot to find the stew bubbling merrily. She scooped it into a bowl and carried the tray back upstairs.

“It’s cold in here, Papa,” she heard Johnny complaining as she approached the bedroom.

“Well, get under the covers,” Alexander urged. “Quick, quick!”

She entered the room in time to see her five year old burrowing under the blankets. Alexander looked over at her, utterly amused. “Careful of Papa’s leg,” she said.

“I am, Mama,” Johnny assured her, lowering the blankets enough for her to see his eyes.

“You’re right that it’s too cold in here, though.” The room was beyond chilly with the window still open. Placing the tray on the side table, she moved around the bed to close it. “That’s better.”

Alexander had pulled the tray onto his lap. “I suppose.”

She rolled her eyes. “Cold pack?” she offered, picking up the snow filled pack and holding it up for his inspection.

He nodded, mouth full of stew. For all he’d refused food throughout the day, he was eating with enthusiasm now. His pain must have eased finally. Carefully placing the pack over his ankle, she patted his knee tenderly.

“Feeling a little better, sweetheart?”

“I am,” he said, holding a hand up to cover his mouth. “Thank you for the stew. It’s delicious.”

She sat on the other side of Johnny, dropping a kiss to the boy’s curly, dark hair. Her little boy wrinkled his nose until she tickled him under the armpit. He pealed with laughter, wriggling away towards his father for protection. Alexander chuckled as he wrapped an arm around their youngest, drawing him close. Johnny cuddled up against him adoringly.

Almost as soon as Alexander had finished eating the stew, Mary came up with the ice cream in a small bowl. Alexander’s eyes lit up at the sight of the treat, just as Eliza knew they would. He’d always had a sweet tooth, generally, and he especially loved vanilla ice cream.

“Ice cream!” Johnny exclaimed, bouncing with excitement. The excited call drew her other children from their rooms, Philip, Angelica, Alex, and Jamie all standing hopefully in the doorway.

“Come in, come in,” Alexander invited. They all scurried in, settling around him on the bed, huddling close against the chill of the room. Angelica cuddled against his other side while Pip and Alex sat cross legged at the foot of the bed. Jamie, always eager as his father for sweets, sat as close as he could to the ice cream bowl. Glancing at Mary, Alexander added, “I think we’re going to need a bigger bowl, and some more spoons.”

“I’ll bring them, sir,” Mary said.

He let Johnny and Jamie have the first taste, then took the spoon back to take a big bite. “Mm-mm. There’s nothing better than vanilla ice cream.”

“On a cold January day,” Eliza added, shaking her head.

“Exactly.”

Over the noisy chatter of their little ones, she said softly, “Happy birthday, my love."

He grinned as Jamie stole the spoon away from him again. His eyes scanned over his children all gathered around him before he looked at her, love and gratitude shining in their depths. With absolute sincerity, he replied, “I think it’s one of the best I’ve ever had.”  

#hamilton fanfic #alexander hamilton #eliza hamilton #hamliza #birthday #fluff #sprained ankle #ice cream #hurt/comfort

[boogiewrites]

Who We Were & Who We Are Now 11

Characters: Forrest Bondurant x Tawny Barrett (OFC)

Word Count: 4100+

Summary: Forrest defends Tawny in a fight. Tawny defends herself and helps Forrest with the biggest fight yet, the one for his life.

Warnings/Tags: Fluff. Canon-typical violence. Graphic violence/gore. Language. Fighting. Drinking. Unwanted sexual advances. 

A/N: Memories are in italics!

Positive feedback is MUCH appreciated! Reblogs, likes, asks and comments feed me to write more! Let me know if you’d like tagged in my work.

My Masterlist.

The sun's setting and you're busy handing out drinks and food. As usual, on Friday nights Forrest sits in his office counting money and scribbling away in his ledger to get away from the noise.

For good behavior Jack is out with Junior, they'd found some girls they'd gotten sweet on and taken off. You hoped the girls would keep them straight and out of too much trouble. You'd rather him be sleeping around than gambling anyway. Whatever mistakes he made were his at this point, you'd done your part of warning and informing him.

As the sun sets the station is busy. It's the usual in and out, the dinging of the pumps that Cricket helps man, seeing to cars and answering your calls for assistance yelled out of the screen door. He had a car that he was trying to doctor up for Jack he'd given as his reason for staying in tonight, that boy was so good-natured you were thankful he could be an influence on Junior as well.

But your current problem and the opposite of being good-natured were the two men that had sat together directly in the middle of the bar all night. You'd ignored their dirty looks and suggestive glances, their rotten teeth spewing their sexually aggressive words at you.

You weren't a stranger to this, working at the bar in the city, you just hadn't run across it much here. But by their accents and suits, you could tell these guys weren't exactly from around here. Maybe not from the city but...not local at least. You whisper to Cricket if he knows the men, he says no, so you begin to become suspicious of their motives. They'd been looking over their shoulders all night, not moving from their spots and keeping you busy with requests.

As the crowd thins, those there for the food now full and gone, the ones there for the drink drunk and making their way back to their homes, these men stay. The old group of men that always play cards, now larger than usual due to it being the weekend, are still in the back walled off part of the open space, lamp hanging directly over their heads, keeping their eyes hidden with the brims of their hats as they pretend to have poker faces this many jars in as they play.

To say you're growing impatient with these men would be an understatement. One reaches over the bar as you turn to move the cast iron skillet from the stove to cool off for the night, pinching you on the butt. You swing around quickly, slamming your hand on the bar top.

"Fuckin' excuse you?" you ask, chin down, eyes burning into his.

"Aw, toots, c'mon. You've been taking care of us all night how's about we take care of you a lil bit?"

"I'll only say this politely because my mama raised me right, unlike you sons of bitches, but if you touch me again you're gonna regret it."

"Calm down there, baby doll." the other interjects, waving his hand in the air to falsely diffuse the situation.

"I ain't your fuckin' baby doll." you spit at him. "You can change your damn tone or pay up and get out."

"Why don't you get us another jar there sugar?" the original culprit says, pushing a strand of hair off your face as you snarl at him.

"You've had enough." you say, leaning forward, fearless and staring him down.

"Now you turn that sweet ass around and get me another jar and I won't cause you any trouble tonight ya little hellcat."

You inhale slowly, trying to keep your cool. "How about you turn your mangy ass around and get the hell out of here."

He reaches out and grabs your wrist tightly, slamming it down on the bar top, pulling you across it partially and the stink of him hits you hard, making you gag slightly. "That ain't no way for a little lady like yourself to be talking to a man like me baby doll. You turn me down again and I'll bring all kinds of trouble down on that pretty little head of yours Tawny." you don't know how he knew your name, but sends up a red flag. Something wasn't right, them being there wasn't right.

"And you can let me go or I'm going to yell for my boss and he'll break your fuckin' necks. That's your choice."

You see him reach for his pocket and you've been in this situation before. You grab the empty jar on top of the bar top as he pulls out a knife to threaten you. You slam the jar into the side of his face, forcing him to let you go. You hurt yourself a bit in the process, some cuts on your fingers, but this was much preferred to the alternative. He drops the knife, you grab it and step back, holding it out at the other man as his hands on a gun in his waistband, you can see the hesitancy to pull it on you in his eyes.

"Alright, you get the hell out of here!" you hear Forrest's deep, aggressive voice boom across the room.

You hadn't noticed in your scuffle, but Cricket had gone and told Forrest there were men hassling you. Forrest stands with him just a foot behind, whispering what had gone down as Forrest rose from his chair and made his way out of the office.

"They've been hasslin' her all night. She tried to cut him off, he's been getting real mouthy and tried to get handsy with her. He grabbed her, she hit him, pulled a knife on her I reckon 'cause that ain't one of yours." he says quietly.

Forrest sees the broken pieces on the bar top, the bleeding on the man's temple, your bloody hand shaking around a knife in defense and his jaw clenches. A fire roaring up within him at the thought that someone dared to even think about harming you, and in the place he owned.

"You pull a knife out on her?" You see a fire in his eyes you haven't before.

The man approaches him, hand on the side of his still bleeding face. "I'm trying to give you business and she won't sell to me."

"Well you ain't getting a god damned thing, get out." his voice so low it almost comes out as a growl.

"Ain't no fuckin' hillbilly gonna talk to me like that." he barks, draws his arm back to hit Forrest, the other man rising from his seat.

You know the other man has a gun, and lucky for you he's using the hand closest to you pull it out, letting it hang at his side, his hesitancy being his undoing. You grab the gun from him, seizing your opportunity to take firepower out of the situation and making it a level playing field. Well, as level as it could be against Forrest and his brass knuckles.

As soon as there's a punch thrown, the men in the back bolt for the door. Certainly, not the first time something like this had gone down here, they knew to get the hell out of Forrest's way. If they weren't there, they could see anything. And that's how they wanted it.

Hitting the man with the glass in his face, now split open from the brass pushing it in even deeper, he falls back over a table, smashing a chair as his limp body thuds against the floor, a poof of dust escaping as he comes to rest.

The other man moves towards Forrest, fists up and ready to fight before Forrest's eyes have left the man on the floor, he gets one solid hit on your protector, a sick crack to his brow bone, but he doesn't slow in his retaliation, the pain fueling him, he grabs the man by the shirt and shoves him up against a thick load-bearing beam, knocking off his hat and punching him over and over and over until blood poured from his face. One more good solid thwack to the temple to send him to the floor just like the other man in a hurry.

Forrest's bloody hands shake slightly as he moves his eyes to yours. It'd all happened so fast you're still stood in the same place behind the bar. You blink slowly, your eyes wide but not fearful, he nods, a noisy exhale from his lips  as he moves quickly to pull the bodies out of the station and into the dark of the parking lot  like they weighed nothing, being sure to not be easy on them as he swings them out into the cold night.

His eyes dart around the now empty station and seeing as no one was around to witness, you see his chest heave one final time before he recognizes he can stop being in defense mode.

He walks over to you, face looking much like a scolded puppy, eyes apologetic and posture slumped. His marked up hands reach out across the bar, gently taking the gun from your own bloody hands.

When you feel the warmth of his fingers around yours, you let out a sigh, letting go of the tension you held in your body that you hadn't even realized was there with a heavy sigh.

"You ain't hurt are ya?" he says quietly, a furrowed brow studying you.

"No, I...I don't think so." you shake your head, looking at the hand that had delivered the opening blow to the man now unconscious in the road. "Not too bad anyway." your lips frown as you hold your wrist of the injured hand. Seemed to just be a few cuts, nothing that wasn't superficial.

His eyes grow sadder, the anger fading as he takes your delicate bright red fingers into both his own big paws. He sees the bruises already forming around your wrist, the little gashes in your perfect porcelain skin. He grunts, lips pursing as the guilt started to hit him.

"I'm sorry 'bout this." he says softly, hands still holding yours.

"I've seen worse," you say softly, trying to be comforting amongst the chaos. His eyes shoot to yours with question. "I worked in a bar in the city for years, Forrest. I was there when it transitioned to a speakeasy." your head tilts as you nod slightly to sell your point. "I'm not a stranger to being witness to violence."

The words break his heart. A good girl like you shouldn't have to deal with things like this. What was wrong with people? ---- With Cricket sent home with a hug and a thank you from yourself. A grunt, nod and appreciative pat on the back from Forrest, you find yourselves alone.

He'd help you wash your hands in the sink first, demanding you be seen to before him, the rough pads of his fingers drawing little hisses from your lips as they worked to free the one piece of glass stuck in your skin. You return the favor, washing the knuckles of brass and then the ones on his hand.

"I'm sorry, Tawny." he says quietly, forcing it out like the words had been sitting in his throat for too long.

"You've said that three times now, hun, you ain't gotta keep sayin' it," you say sweetly, a small shake of your head as you wipe away to the dried blood from his face. "You don't have anything to be sorry for. You helped if nothing else." you say, patting his chest as you move to the table where the medical kit sat. You sit down and watch him walk over to you, shoulders still low as he speaks and eventually sits in the chair a bit too hard in his solemn mood, making it squeak across the floor.

"You came back here to get away from all this. A good woman like you deserves better."  the words make your bottom lip pout out at how heavy they sound coming from him.

You've never been called a good woman before. You'd never had anyone tell you deserved anything except 'what was comin' to you' and that means nothing but nastiness. You finish with the turpentine on his brow, sitting and holding your hand on his cheek.

"There ain't so escape from life while you're livin' it, Forrest." you're sure to make sure he looks into your eyes as you speak. You hated seeing this guilt on his face. "This is life here." you shrug. "Life ain't easy no matter where you go." you say, just a touch of assertiveness to your voice.

He grunts in response, a thoughtful look coming across his face.

"I've been to where the grass is supposed to be greener Forrest. It ain't. It's just different grass." you huff out a laugh, dropping your hand from his face. "I tried it elsewhere. Here's home. I'd rather have violence here than violence anywhere else and I don't wanna be nowhere but right here. You understand?" you reach out and put your hand over his, driving your point home.

He nods and grunts. You rise, you run your hand across his shoulders, a slow back and forth as he looks up at you, eyes wide and resembling a puppy's for a moment with you framed in his line of vision.

"I'm gonna take the boxes to the barn alright? That'll finish us up here. We both need to rest." you bend down and press a kiss to the top of his head, hoping it expressed your sentiments better than your words did.

His eyes shut as you lean close, he smells the floral scent that haunts him as he walks up the stairs at night, that lingers after you're gone. You take the kit and set it back in his office before you head out.

"I'm gonna have a smoke before bed, Tawny. You go on up after you're done, ya hear?"

"I hear you, hun." you say with sweet tone, knowing he means well. He needs to be alone to think and to be honest, so do you. ---- You're chewing on your lip as you make your way back thru the back door of the station. You'd made a few rounds in the barn, looking for the culprit of some knocked over barrels and vegetables that were scattered about. You figured it was raccoons that were the culprit, as their little thumbs allowed them to be much more mischievous than a common opossum. You kind of hoped it wasn't raccoons though, you thought they were rather humorous and didn't want to kill them, you hadn't missed that part of country life in the city. You weren't reminded of the food chain so often there like you were here.

You let the door bang behind you, turning to lock it as you call out, "Forrest? You still up hun?" You hang your coat up by the door in the hallway, walking towards his office as you saw the light was on. It flicks off as you approach, heavy footsteps headed your way. "I think we go raccoons or somethin' out in the barn. You want I should get a catalog and order some traps tomorrow? We don't have any big enough..." your voice trails off as your eyes grow wider as you realize the silhouette of a large man approaching you was not Forrest.

"I'm afraid your hun ain't here to save you this time." a deep voice slithers through the dark room and sends chills down your spine. You feel a man slip his hands around your waist and chest and you seize up at the touch.

Unfortunately for them, this wouldn't be the first time you'd fought greasy ill-intentioned hands off of you in a life or death situation. You'd made the mistake of being helpless before, and by God, you'd taken the precautions to make sure it never happened again. They didn't count on you being one of those tough country girls. You were about as far from the fainting over an insult, limp-wristed breed as they came.

As the taller man, the one whose gun you'd taken away saunters towards you, the grip around your body grows tighter from the other man. Okay, Tawny...keep your head level...you can do this. You can't be a Bondurant and let someone get the best of you, and you weren't about to take that chance.

You start to struggle against the man behind you, testing his strength as he lifts your feet off the floor to try to control you. You use this to your advantage, kicking your feet up and off his legs to kick the other man in the chest and face as he tries to close in on you. A good solid hit from your heels lands on his face, taking the pointed spike to the eye. He moves to protect himself, hunching over as you bend yourself in half, then rearing back hard and fast and head-butting the man holding you in the forehead. It hurts like hell, and by the nasty crack of a noise, it made you knew it was worth the pain. You scramble away, hitting the floor first, and hard before barreling yourself into a chair forcefully in your hurried attempts to create space between you and the men.

You move to get the knife off the counter, running back around to the tables on the other side of the room so you'd at least have the big wooden slabs for protection. The man you'd kicked, having enough time to recover lunges across the table for you. You grab a salt shaker off the table and smash it into his hand as it slams down on the table top, barely missing you. This hurts you both in the process, but again, worth the pain and creates a distraction. The other comes to your side as the man with the freshly bleeding hand shouts and squeeze his wrist. You shove your glass shard filled hand into his face as he approaches, adding more shards to the collection you were working on embedding in his face tonight.

You see the tiny rivers of fresh bright blood run down his face as your fingers dig into his eye socket and hook into his lip. You grab his wrist with the same hand quickly, wanting to make sure he understood the punishment for having touched you with this hand, you slam it against the edge of the table with another sickening smash and crack of delicate bones being misplaced as his teeth grit and he screams and spits at you, slapping at you with his other hand, hitting you in the face, trying to choke you with wild clawing and scratching but you remain vigilant. You bring his hand down again, another shout, but this time you bring the knife down with it.

The bloody scream so close to your own ears makes them ring even after the fight is over. You stab it into his hand again, but this time horizontally, taking his two smallest fingers off. This is finally enough to make him retreat, the other man looking on in shock with one good eye in horror as his partner cries and holds his wrist, shoving you into the floor to get out the building. You can't understand what he's spewing at you, but there are swears and cross words said you did understand, but they hold no weight to hurt you further.

"Fuckin' come on! We got who we came for, leave this crazy bitch, she took my fucking fingers!" he screeches, the other man quickly following suit. You sit in the floor among the displaced chairs you were shoved into. You hear their car leave, the lights bouncing down the drive and you gasp for breath. The exertion and adrenaline hit you move quickly to stand, your hands are shaking terribly, you were beat up, you could feel it, but more importantly you were alive.

As soon as your brain registers that you have all your limbs, can move them and aren't bleeding from the head from that headbutt, your mind screams. Forrest.

In your fear, a delayed reaction to the bloodshed you'd just seen, you stumble clumsily out of the station, bending over at the waist over the railing and throwing up. You gasp and with wild eyes, you take in the scene around you. It's silent. The night dark, snow lightly falling in what would at any other time be a serene scene makes your stomach churn again.

The only thing you see is Forrest's truck and no sign of him anywhere. "FORREST?!" you scream out like a banshee into the echoing darkness. Your hand that isn't full of glass slams against the truck hood to stabilize yourself, but no amount of bracing could've helped for what you saw lying on the ground before you as you rounded the font of the vehicle. "FORREST?!" you scream out again, the most desperate and gut-wrenching sound that had ever come out of your body. Your knees buckle on sight, falling to the ground, your bloody hands covering your mouth as you try to scream but it's choked out by a building sob.

You crawl towards him, whispering his name over and over as if it could help somehow. You want to throw up again but fight the urge as you kneel over him, hands vibrating with emotion as they delicately touch him, trying to process what had happened and what you needed to do next. His hands are tight around his throat, and his eyes open, bleeding like a stuck pig into the freshly fallen snow.

They'd cut his throat and left him for dead. If he died, you would hunt down those sorry excuses for humans and kill them in the same fashion. The rage from the thought of someone hurting him clears your head in a funny way. Forrest Bondurant can't die, you thought to yourself. He can't and you won't fucking let him.

"Forrest baby are you still with me?" you choke out, sniffling and finding his eyes, feeling for a pulse in his wrist and by some miracle, it's there. "Oh fuck. Oh thank fucking God." your chest heaves as you try to remember to breathe. "I'm taking you to the hospital," you say, as if it mattered, you didn't know if he could hear you. You'd read about miraculous things... mothers lifting cars off of children to save them, and now you should be added to those stories as you pick the big man up from under his arms and somehow manage to get him into the truck. "You can't die Forrest." you say to no one but yourself, propped him up in the seat next to you, you figured the blood wouldn't leak out as badly that way. "You can't fucking die on me, I need you." you sob, one hand on his knee as you drive that beat up old vehicle better than Jack could've ever dreamed of handling the newest, fastest car. You talk to him as you drive, mostly incoherent streams of thought, but sometimes it made sense. You kept squeezing and patting him, in case he was aware that you were there. "I'm here Forrest. I'm here sweetheart. We'll be there soon I swear. I can fix this. We can do this. Just please stay with me Forrest." you rasp out.

You park the truck just out of the light of the porch of the hospital. It occurs to you that you can't go about this in a normal manner. "You Bondurant's and your fuckin' legends." you groan, putting on a hat you found in the truck and pulling it low over your face, using a spare sweater to mask your small frame, you pull Forrest onto your shoulder, thankful for your working woman thighs to carry him with strained steps to the door. Lucky for you, a man is smoking just inside the door and they panic, dropping the cigarette and moving to pick him up. He yells for help, and you slip away back into the darkness. You see the man come out a few minutes later, looking around for whoever brought him, scratching his head in confusion and ultimately going back inside.

If he lived, he'd die as a man who walked 20 miles from Blackwater station himself with a slit throat. Seems like the least you could do was let him keep his story for himself if he did turn out to be mortal. But for once, you sure as hell hoped the rumors about the Bondurant's were true.

Ch. 12

@hardygal69 @jaegeeeeer @parlezvoustomhardy @pootle @negansdirtygirl22 @vale0413 @divadinag @emerald-bijou @emiliesnowflake

#Forrest Bondurant #Tom Hardy #Lawless #Forrest Bondurant AU #forrest bondurant x reader #forrest bondurant fan fiction #lawless au #lawless fan fiction #forrest bondurant fanfic #forrest bondurant imagine #forrest bondurant fan fic #forrest bondurant fic #forrest bondurant x ofc #forrest bondurant fluff #forrest bondurant x reader fluff #fan fiction #writing

[of-another-broken-heart]

today wasn’t... bad. 

I think. 

I dunno. 

I didn’t want to wake up, and didn’t sleep super great. 

I took too long doing my makeup and made us run late - although apparently everyone got delayed by 30-60 minutes anyway, so we ended up being early regardless. 

Lil sis threw a tantrum and refused to go. I don’t even want to dwell on it, I’m so fucking tired... but here I go anyway. She spent 12-18 hours getting ready - practicing makeup multiple times, planning outfit, sleeping - but dropped her phone in the kitchen sink somehow right before we were planning to leave and refused to listen to mom to get it drying. She needed to turn it off and put it in some rice to let the rice draw out all the moisture. Instead, she patted it dry with a towel and continued to use it. Until it forced itself off. Then she stood it up in some rice and continued trying to turn it on and use it. At which point it wouldn’t stay on, and she couldn’t use it, so she proclaimed she wasn’t going to have anything to do or anyone to talk to without her phone, so she wasn’t going at all. 

Mom had already spent the better part of the morning getting our contributions ready to go. I had thought we were leaving a bit before 1, but it turned out I was an hour off compared to my mom’s plans, so I didn’t get to help as much as I wanted and instead spent nearly the whole time I was awake just... getting ready as best I could. Hence my makeup taking longer than I’d hoped. 

We weren’t going to all lose out on the family get-together food fest, though, so the rest of us (mom, bro, and I) got out the door and spent the next six or so hours at my cousin’s house. 

A few people tried to give mom a hard time about lil sis not being there, but once it was explained what happened, pretty much all anyone could do was sigh. Mom tried to reach out (via the kids’ father) to see if lil sis had calmed down or changed her mind but... nope. Got no response from that. Then later, once dinner was properly out and everyone was sat down to eat, lil sis sent a text asking when mom was coming home - which took about 40 minutes for mom to see and respond to, what with sitting down to eat. I don’t know exactly what mom’s response was, but she offered to go pick lil sis up, again. Lil sis didn’t respond to that, either. 

Then folks started leaving. A gaggle of old-enough-to-drive kids broke off first, to shop. Then one family cluster had to go, because work. And so on, until there were only a few left, and dessert wasn’t going to happen, and clean up and goodbye. 

And I... feel really defeated for making that pie. It feels stupid. It’s just a pie. But I had to hype myself up to make it. It took multiple days. I was proud of it. It was a staple, Nana and PopPop always had pumpkin pie... 

And about 3 people even saw it. That’s it. One piece got left for my cousin’s SO, another got cut for cousin’s kid’s SO, and... the rest came home. 

So much came home. 

We (as a family) made so much food. I kept joking that no one would have to cook for the next week, thanks to the leftover situation. I mean, I wasn’t really joking. I was serious, and happy about it. The whole Fucked Brain thing I’ve got going on means I love leftovers, because there’s basically no food prep and I’m a matter of microwave minutes from a warm meal. It blows my mind when people don’t... sympathize with that. Like, I get that organizing and storing the stuff in the first place is a bit of a hassle, but the longer term time save is worth it?? Even my defunct gray head pudding can grasp that?? 

And a few people DID bring up the whole “How... are you doing?” thing, and at this point I just noncommittally wince and say “... Eh.” And if they prod, I’ll usually either begrudgingly add “The same,” or “Not great.” 

Also had multiple “If you wanna find work, NOW IS THE TIME, everyone is hiring for everything everywhere!!” from people who... haven’t actually had to job hunt in... decades?? They think that seeing a “Now Hiring” sign is the equivalent of a business taking on a small army of applicants, and that is Wrong and Incorrect. 

I got to semi-publicly update them all about that job they’d all been telling me about - how I had called multiple times, left at least one message, even sent in a resume through the business’s website, and that I’d started that whole process the day my cousin had helped me set up the doctor’s stuff - and learned the job was filled somewhat recently. It didn’t merit any other real commentary except the ignorant “just go apply to McDonald’s!” sort of thing. 

It’s weird. The whole family dynamic, with regards to age, has me very much in between my boomer-mentality family (not all of which even ARE boomers) and the “kids,” where I know the boomers don’t know shit about entry level work of any kind, but the kids have no concept of work ethic, either. (Literally two of my cousins were complaining that they got reprimanded and their hours cut for... consistently not showing up for their shifts in the first place)

And my one aunt basically tried to lecture one of them about “you just have to work hard” when the kid was complaining about her boss DOG WHISTLING at her at work instead of using the kid’s name, and making the kid do shit like payroll. Then my aunt also made some racist retort about the whistling, something like “Yeah, well he’s Chinese,” which the kid just screwed up her face and promptly informed her, “No, he’s not.” Like... I don’t even know. What the fuck. That was supposed to mean. I’m glad that it just got dropped but ??? What the fuck. 

#personal #food mention

[nymphadorathetemplar]

Some of my live reactions I wrote down while watching VLD S4

"remember purely intelligence gathering, do not engage" is that Keith? proly who else would you have to say that to (plus look how small he is compared to other two, also p sure I spotted his lil knife handle) I noticed other Marmorites have fanny packs does this mean it's a genetic instinct thing for Keith or he learned it from his mom or from dad who picked it up from mom or just a logical thing to do for those who think smart about being prepared aww Keith, need to be more sneaky dude, learn from Lance. But wonderful knife throw oh my gosh Keith, such good boy, poor boy struggling with Marmora protocol ooh boy tell him aww Shiro AWW Pidge, Lance! Please be more understanding pls don't make that face Keith can they not know about his BoM missions? oh they should, so why RAZZLE DAZZLE TIME! pfft drama queen "It's rigged to blow!" yep gotta be for sure now, this boy knows his bombs Regris... also nice parallelism from parade to mission gone wrong go Keith pls Coran "I said I don't want a lecture" oh no does he want to go grieve for Regris (and maybe blame himself? he did mention at least planting tracker fore leaving) yep Keith's da bomb boy oh poor dear you need to realise their importance of moral so you can better explain to them and they can finally understand you you tell her boy poor Shiro... imagine having to listen to your family suffer and you can't do a thing awww yissss! it had to be Shiro's mental state of mind that prevented himself "we have–... I have to take it" oh Keith Keith...no also this "catch phrase" says so much bout his thinking and personality "I can't tell you how much that means to me " screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee– *group hug* quiznakin dead I love you all! I love vld so much aww Pidge "Reunion" yas yas yas YOU STFU! you are the best nerd Pidge "hey Pidge?" Fuuuuuck (yeah fuck it at this point I'm straight up saying fuck) *sigh* feels oh dear Matt is also hot and cute, I'm Love (also is his voice  different? maybe just because he's not in terror or excitement thrill) srsly dude, easy money for info not your goods and you want to fight someone strong enough to get that security footage "auspicious occasion" need to integrate that into my vocab use for small things to makes them feel more important not just the eyes but yep no te-osh look at that girl go, saving countless lives and gaining alliances oh ho ho hacker Holts "most powerful processor" ahh wise Matt, truely a man after my heart no no no no no no no no no no no please be visiting a grave please be visiting a grave please no heart break (top 5 tragic anime death, I am so sorry I am trying not to break down over a character I've fallen so hard for) oh oh oh!!! thank you thank you thank you smart siblings so clever thank the ancients but srsly my heart, too much in a few minutes yay! Thank you thank you thank you!! "well I'm one of the paladins" smirk ahh Jinx holts "let's show em what the holts are made of" I love y'all so much bloody brilliant nerds okay okay okay cute pics but also Sheith/Broganes in background!?! Nice Holt backstory, now I’m itchin for Shiro and Keith’s so nice to know for sure how she got his glasses aaahhh ha hah! fuckin nerd such a heavy feels ep, wonderful can Haggar please realize and go back to her Honerva happy times "memory reminants deep to claw out" hmm you would know like Spirit Away radish god lift scene Hunks laugh! so pure very appropriate reaction Matt but also fuckin nerd (bet he loves anime, I would know) yes yes Lance the Allurance vibes!also a ruval has appeared? Alluraatt? Mallura? "wayward son" blasts Kansas nerdy siblings such pure excitement fuckin puns... Please Pidge may I marry your brother srsly great husbando material right there Alteans love for milkshakes and misunderstanding of them and Kaltenecker, too adorable oh That's an adorable expression Lotor hmm sad aw yeah Smirk™ no Narti please don't betray Lotor "what are we, animals" siblings, I love proud Hunk is such a good look haha he keeps trying even after he misses, like I would prefer to practice in private so so glad they got the video game working, knew the geniuses could do it hopefully it's Kova not Narti spying amazing smarties ah sibling like Lance & Pidge what where did they get second chair no pay attention this only happens when Lotor is involved aww Narti no oh ho ho Outlaw Lotor "The Voltron Show" amazing I hope it's kinda like the AtLA play RAZZLE DAZZLE! i miss keith (sorry I love him too much) "legend not documentary" LOL hahaha funny I just mentioned him "just act really moody" First Pidge now Coran, dude if two smartest people in the castle say so, it is law Keith is emo confirmed (also proof he is not an emotionless meanie) "holds bayard dashingly, oh" awwww Lancey living for the show so cute Coran. Coran please no no no don't take the suspicious drugs! no I thought of you as one of the wisest Stop! Leave Coran alone! your feelings are very validated but you do not need to continue for so long do you? you don't know his side I do not fancy this ep of putting Coran down aww Alfor fanboy Eww! No! look! the Purple alien who Lance winked at & ate Hunk's delicious food, dating a space cowboy (also can someone draw Keith or Lance or both in space cowboy gear) geez Coran that voice Thank you Rhys Lance is all about that life whaaaa okay that is an awesome performance Shiro is so acrobatic!? Look at Lance lovin it Go Go Power Rangers! cute Hunk Bii-Boh-Bi. oh my too cute Too good, Voltron on Ice stick signature signing "Loverboy Lance? It's perfect cause it's true" oh geez that is so lance but I also heard some Jeremy suave in that These nick names... amazing Shiro the Hero!! We've been saying that! Cuz it's true! aww I don't care for humerous hunk so much, being for comic relief sterotype but still cute cause it's Hunk "now put on this tight shirt and get out there" fuck. Coran knows his schist oh my lioness...pole dancing Lance Yes Please. Admire that muscle strength aww Coran please rest "except for you Shiro never you, you're our most popular character" Wow. writers tossin in that shade priorities Lance pfft that's obviously "get ready we're on in five" come on Lance oh I hope Keith saw part of their shows and is thinking fondly of his friends Varkon?!!? you think Plaxum was dreamily watching Lance? (ofc I ship it) *bii-boh-bi shurg* mood "help me bii-boh-bi, you're my only hope" wonderful bii-boh-bi, the true mvp I love this Voltron Show theme music aww I love you Coran but don't talk to Bii-boh-bi like that! ah fuck I just quietly squealed Keith to myself as an automatic reaction to seeing his face, I love him too much "Pidge and I can handle that" cute! (Punk!) "pow pow pow! easy peasy" I love you Shay! (Alluray!) aww Axca's trust for Lotor (ship? ship, I'm so sorry I love shipping) Rolo! Nyma! Beezer! daww Pidge holy crow Fandom totally predicted Matt being the smarts of Pidge with the humour & flirtiness of Lance oh what special window for the cute dog? they important or just reppin? ah I love Allura's leadership/inspirational speeches "no pressure" I feel ya Hunk Yass! Hunk smash! oh oh Female Galra Commander!! ahh cute doggie leading the charge!! "a third of the rebel forces have been decimated"...no war is truely sad "copy that we're in route" I'm still sad but Keithy! look it them so bad ass Aww yiss!! Keith is ready to pilot, gaze upon that beautiful smile of eagarness, such a precious boy *galra holding breath,sweating while hoppin away* pfffft same "see if the blades can use thier cannon to take down the sheild" woah. that voice. very nice voice also I love captain dog so much!? great thinking Allura! man they work so well as a team now, I love them so much. I've missed the full out transformation sequence aww no Zethrid, Ezor, especially Axca Keith to the rescue! smirky smirk™ woah! wicked Lotor "good" oh no oh no oh no no no, oh schist what's that mean!?!? "A new defender" who it be!?? nice sheild reflect the way I feel about Lotor is the way I feel about Yagami Light argh Zarkon actually made a wise decision ugh woah!! Lotor's determination is a match to Keith's! "awake Naxzela!" Oh shit wad up!? What she doin?? oh no please don't be a huge bomb/quintessence drainner Listen to Lance's instincts please Listen to Hunk oh good only looks like gravity field please please oh no look at Team Voltron go! come on bring on the magicalAllura No! Allura! Team! "are you okay?" Allurance!! hexamite!! Fuuuuck I hate when my bad predictions are right! Bloody bomb oh gosh oh gosh "10 solar systems" oh schist "Victory or Death is the Galra way. They never stop attacking " yes yes! exactly Keith put your galra culture thinking to good use! wow look at Keith being a great leader as soon as others don't pressure him You go Keith go be a great Leader when you need to, please recognize the greatness Shiro sees in you Look at Lance thinking awww his wonderful encouragement, this is why you are wonderful!! also great Allurance material right there! Magical girl Allura!! "Thank you Lance" "that was all You" I love them so much "What the ruggle is that?" new vocab "evasive manuvers" oh it's doggo captain coool I thought it might have been Axca "we're not going to make it" No! Please God no! Please! if this is a Keith Sacrifice, God Please No! This atmosphere I can't!!! Please No!! Don't you fucking dare make that face Keith!!!!! No!!!! aaaaaahhhhh please! No!! No!! No!! Stop making that face!! "Maybe not with our weapons" SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE– "Wait Keith what are you doing? Keith no!"!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! S A M E!!!! Holy Crow!!!! Holy Crow!!! Holy Crow!!! Holy Fuckin Crow!!!! I can not Iliterally can not all these emotions so strong and in such a short time I  am dead thank you Lotor I love you so much female commanders

"I think it is time we had a discussion" oh yes please. So good. They finally get to meet each other's beautiful faces Also I hope Matt tells the team how Keith was about to SmAsH his FigHTer into the fLiPpiNg PArTicLe BArRiEr!! Can we see the team’s reaction? Please dreamworks A much more preferable "cliffhanger" compared to previous seasons Thank you for this break seeing as I've already been slain

#Voltron legendary defender #voltron season four #spoilers #takashi shirogane #lance #hunk #pidge gunderson #katie holt #matt holt #keith #princess Allura of Altea #coran coran the gorgeous man #Prince Lotor #axca #ezor #zethrid #narti #emperor zarkon #haggar #kova #rolo #nyma #beezer #bii-boh-bi #kolivan #blade of marmora #galra #I adore vld and its characters

[sorcererinthestars]

Prompt: Fanboy!Jeremy meeting fahc!Geoff for the first time.

Continuation of my other post from before... hope that’s okay!

Los Santos - the city of thieves, crooks, and murderers. And Ramsey and his gang ruled the roost. They presided over their Kingdom with an iron fist and woe betide anyone who crossed them.

When Jeremy stepped out of the car - the Vagabond’s car - his knees were weak and he felt a little bit like he was going to pass out. His hand kept drifting to the handle of his pistol, stored under his jacket, but he wasn’t quite sure what he thought it would do. One pistol against the combined force of the Fakes? He seriously doubted he’d even live to draw it.

They strolled to an abandoned warehouse - or at least, what Jeremy had thought was an abandoned warehouse. Apparently he was wrong, or the Fakes all had a real flare for the dramatics, not just the Vagabond. When the man in the mask pushed the door open and gestured for Jeremy to precede him inside, Jeremy hesitated on the doorstep.

“Don’t worry,” the Vagabond said. It was sort of hard not to, with that voice (low and somehow both sultry and intimidating) emanating from behind him. “If we were planning to kill you, I would have done it ages ago. I’m not one for the long play - you would’ve already had a bullet in your brain.”

“...uh huh,” Jeremy squeaked, mouth dry. “Uhm... good to know.”

“Now Mogar, on the other hand - he likes to play with his food.” Now Jeremy was sure the Vagabond was laughing at him as he pushed him (almost gently?) through the door. “Now go on. Ramsey’s waiting and he doesn’t like that. He’s an impatient motherfucker.”

Jeremy slipped into the dark warehouse right as all the lights flickered on. Yeah. Fucking flare for dramatics, the whole fucking lot of them. The warehouse was empty, lights flickering shadows across the empty floor, all except two fold out chairs. One was occupied by a man in an elegant, perfectly tailored suit with an impressive mustache. He was sipping out of a flask with the Fakes’ tag on it and smirked at Jeremy as he took a few steps forward.Ramsey.

Behind Ramsey stood the most gorgeous man Jeremy had ever laid eyes on - blond hair perfectly styled, gold sunglasses, and a charming grin. He had on a tight fitting blue button down and skinny jeans and was leaning against the chair, almost fawning over Ramsey. It was a submissive position behind his boss, but anyone who knew anything knew that this was the Golden Boy with the golden tongue, whose words dripped crimson blood. Ramsey kept him, but let him have a very long leash.

Next to the Golden Boy was Mogar, just as he was described, a paradoxical man who was somehow extremely aggressive and almost innocent looking at the same time. Glasses, red curly hair, and a smattering of freckles gave him an almost baby-faced appearance while his smirk, the black eye, and the rough leather jacket he was wearing made it obvious he was not a man to be fucked with. That, and the fact that he was carrying a very obnoxious SMG.

Great. Another threat against his pistol. Jeremy was starting to wish he had never carried it at all - now it was just a useless threat.

“Sit down, Dooley,” Ramsey said lazily, gesturing to the other seat. “We want to ask you some questions. My darling second in command, JP, is coming with our helicopter, should you be willing to join us.”

“Join you?” Jeremy said with wide eyes, staring at Ramsey - the Ramsey of the Fake AH Crew - as the man smirked back at him. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t you understand a recruitment scheme when you see one, you idiot?” Mogar barked out a laugh, but was immediately silenced by Ramsey holding up another (lazy) finger, like he couldn’t even be bothered to wave his hand. Jeremy watched, in awe, as Michael’s jaw clamped shut. He still looked aggressive, but one finger shut the other up - the command he held over his crew was both terrifying and awe-inspiring. 

“Despite Michael’s -” Mogar is Michael, Jeremy thought - “rather outspoken way of saying so, yes, Dooley, this is a recruitment. We’ve seen you shoot. You’re a rather good pick for the sniper, plus you’re loud and aggressive and we need another one on the team that can go double with Mogar and cause some destruction. We have a heist planned for tomorrow night that we can brief you on if you come with us. It’s a... work evaluation, should we say. If you perform well and work well with us, you can stay. Permanently. What do you say?”Jeremy didn’t know how to respond and for a moment truly feared he was gaping like a dead fish. “Uh...”“Geoff...,” the Golden Boy said with a snicker, almost simpering, “I think we’ve broken the poor boi.” He looked up at Jeremy and Jeremy found himself instinctively taking a step closer. Almost entranced. “Come on, Lil J, it’ll be fun!” he said warmly. 

Jeremy shook his head foolishly and let out a bit of a laugh. “...why not?” he asked breathlessly. “Lead on, then.”

Ramsey, the Golden Boy, and Mogar Jones exchanged a secret smile. 

Checkmate.

#fahc #i rather like playing them as hardcore aggressive criminals #criminals who know what they're doing but also have a stupid flare for the dramatics #idiots #love them #me #my writing #prompts #tiredcosmiccat