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miracleweaponhunt · 3 months

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Miracle Weapon Hunt chapter 28: Extreme Thirst

Roxanne woke up with an overwhelming stale sensation in her mouth. An extreme thirst had overtaken her, and she needed to act on it. She went down to the dining room where a cooler of water was waiting, and she took a glass and calmly sat down on a table. She opened her phone to check the time as nobody was up outside of a few servants making sure everything was up to par. It was only 6:24 in the morning. But below the clock at the top of her phone was a little notification.

6 messages-unknown number

Roxanne hesitated for a second but opened it up.

‘hey its willow’

‘im like realdrunk right now’

‘ur like so hot its insane’

‘during the ball 2merro lets sneak out and kiss’

‘or maybe more hehe’

‘k I gotta sleep leters xxxxxxx’

Roxanne just stared at the phone as she sipped her water. Then she remembered. Her and Willow started making out when they were drunk. And she wanted to go further. The next in line to the throne of Vannana. Thoughts of sitting by her filled her head before she could even think them. Forever. Wait, forever? Willow was cool, sure. But forever cool? Not really? Maybe? She was better than Dermot and Dakarai combined, that was for sure. But then she had to consider…

“What you starin at?”

Roxanne made some kind of incoherent noise when her ship of thought crash landed. Zach’s hulking figure was casually looming over her as she clutched her phone to her chest.

“Just got some messages from a friend!” She answered quickly.

“Ah, got it.” Zach nodded calmly, taking out his own phone and looking agitated at the screen. “Damn it Marcel, what’s up with you?”

“He’s Luminita’s dad, right?”

“Leader of Sangaria, yeah. Hasn’t been returning my messages since yesterday.”

“You think something happened?” Roxanne asked.

“Well, I’m fairly certain that if something major happened to him then Luminita would let me know. Which just leads me to ask what’s happened to the guy.”

“Maybe he just left his suit shopping to the last minute?” Roxanne asked.

“You know, that is something he would do.” Zach chuckled with a quick rub of his chin. Before his chuckle evolved into laughter that shook the staff member next to them.

“Yeah, that’s probably it!” He remarked, wiping a tear from his eye. “Now, I swear I had something to ask you…ah yes, it was for your friend Julian!”

“I can tell him for you.”

“Well, he used to be a Battlestorm, right? And they’re helping me with something back in Fightston, so maybe I could rush them over to…”

“No no!” Roxanne interrupted quickly, panic building up in her throat. “He wouldn’t want to bother anyone with short notice effort like that! You just enjoy yourself and wait for your friend!”

Zach nodded slowly. “Well, I’ll leave you to whatever you’re doing. Now, what’s good for protein?”

Roxanne was left to her phone, and her next reply to Willow. Couldn’t hurt to try taking it further, right?

‘Sounds good, meet you there’

She quickly snapped her phone shut in a manner she found quite stylish, and then opened it to make sure the force of the closing didn’t break anything. It didn’t, so all was good.

“Ah, miss Roxanne.”

Roxanne turned around to see Freyja standing over her with a look of approval.

“Always good to see someone committed to waking up early.” She stated.

“Um, thanks?” Roxanne replied.

“Actually, while I have you up, I have some news to deliver. A request if you will.”

“Okay, what do you need?”

“I was talking to Rory for a while, you see. And he wants to talk to you during the meal before the ball later on. So if you would be so kind as to indulge him, that would be great.”

“What does he want to talk about?”

“I’m afraid I wasn’t given specifics.” Freyja answered, making a strained expression as she did. The most expressive she’s seen her yet.

“I mean, I’ll probably be able to do it, doesn’t seem too hard.”

“Excellent. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some preparations to attend to.”

She gave a small bow to Roxanne, and Roxanne tried bowing from her seat. She could tell it just looked awkward.

“What was she saying to you?”

Roxanne recognised Willow’s voice, and slowly turned around to face her. Play it casual, nothing too try-hard.

“Something about needing to talk to Rory later, I think? Wasn’t really listening, she’s a real piece of work.”

“Yeah, she really is.” Willow sighed, squinting at the door. “So, your friends deep sleepers?”

“Julian is, Cassandra’s usually pretty on top of things.”

“Awesome, less time in the dress.”

Willow sat next to Roxanne, and Javier sat down next to Willow. Willow was still in a white t-shirt and sweatpants while Javier was in a blue t-shirt with some cartoon characters she didn’t recognize and shorts she wasn’t entirely sure wasn’t just underwear.

“The dress?”

“You know, the dresses we picked out and are gonna have to wear for the whole day?”

Oh yeah, those. Willow’s dress had pretty colours but looked really tight in the waist area. But hers was honestly really nice, especially when her necklace was added to the equation.

“I’m just wondering what business you have with Rory of all people.” Javier finally added to the conversation. “Have you two ever spoken before?”

“Don’t think so, no.” Roxanne replied with a shake of her head.

“Maybe she wants him to see your busted leg?”

“Why would she want that?”

“Guilt trip him into something relating to the weapons, maybe? I honestly have no idea.”

Willow got a buzz on her phone, throwing her head to the sky as soon as she read it.

“It’s mom. We have to get the suits on.”

A short while later, Roxanne was fitted into her gown with the help of a servant, stepping out when done. Opposite the dressing room was a mirror that covered the whole room. After looking at herself, Roxanne thought she looked even better than the first time she tried it on. She compared the colour of the gem in the necklace to that of the dress. Willow and Cassandra stepped out a few minutes later. Willow looked at herself in the mirror and approving her look, but her gaze quickly shifted to Roxanne looking at herself. Cassandra gave herself one good look before leaving to the main hall. When she stepped out, Julian was already there casually waiting with Javier while one of Willow’s siblings were talking to them. Mostly to Julian.

“Yeah, Luca and I haven’t talked in a while.” Julian said to a teenage girl sitting next to him.

“But you two were the skyspace’s…”

“Ultimate power couple, yeah. But hey, things change. And now I’m just a humble doctor helping the next generation of heroes.”

“And you’re single?” The girl asked.

“First off, you’re like twelve.”

“I’m fifteen!”

“That’d still get me arrested. And to get back to the original question, I’m in a great relationship with miss Cassandra over there.”

“Oh hey, you’re willow’s sister.” Cassandra said as she sat next to her boyfriend.

“Yeah.” She sighed.

“Elena, are you doing much?” Freyja asked softly as she walked by them with a few people in tow. They seemed to be in bright green jackets and casual jeans, with one holding a mic and one holding a camera. One their sleeves were the letters ‘SNC’ ShiShi News Central. Oh boy.

“Not really.” The girl said.

“Then please guide our guests through the castle and try to answer any questions they have.”

The cameraman turned his camera to Julian’s already tired face.

“Excuse me, mister Julian Torres!” The man with the microphone yelled out. “How does it feel after being brought back to adventuring after your apparent retirement?”

“It’s…certainly stressful.” Julian sighed. “There’s a lot of issues that come with it. Like fighting off the Legion, making sure your weapons are always secure, that kind of thing. But there’s one part that’s just absolutely awful.”

“Which would be?”

“When some doofus with a camera insists on shoving a camera in your face and asking questions when you haven’t even had to chance to get some water.”

“There are more interesting things on the third floor!” Freyja announced from behind. “And Elena would be more than happy to show you!”

“Sure, let’s go.” Elena said flatly, getting up and escorting their new guests up the staircase. The cameraman took interest in the staircase and it’s vibrant blue carpet, as well as the highly detailed banister.

“Hey, mind if I get some water?” Julian asked a servant sitting next to them.

“Certainly, sir.” The young looking waiter affirmed, walking to fulfil his request. Freyja went next to him.

“I want you to wait that man’s table at the next meal. Be sure to keep all alcohol away.”

“Understood, lord Freyja.”

#my writing #writeblr #writing #creative writing #fantasy #webnovel #writers on tumblr

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tennessoui · 3 years

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1. Soulmates AU please! It is definitely my guilty pleasure trope

hello im only three months ish late maybe four but this is also 3.4k long and it's just wild i mean we're talking soul mates, superheroes, rushed world building, superhero names this is a trip this is something i wrote after waking up from a four hour nap this ever had a chance and also it's sad

1. Soul Mates (+ 42. Star Crossed Lovers)

“You shouldn’t have come,” Obi-Wan says harshly, pulling the children--they’re just goddamn children--into his apartment and slamming the door behind them. “Did anyone see you?”

The children--all four of them--stay quiet. Obi-Wan wants to wring their necks. He knows why they’re here. He’d rather them die on the streets than suffer through what they’re obviously here about.

But if that were really true, he would have just left them on his doorstep.

“Did anyone see you?” he asks again.

“Not that we noticed,” one of the girls in the middle says. Shili, dressed in a blue and white striped sensible jumpsuit and sporty cape. The leader of the new generation of superheroes and she sounds like she hasn’t even hit puberty yet.

Obi-Wan is suddenly very, very tired.

“Kam,” Shili gestures to the person next to her and a little behind, a tall boy with a helmet covering his face and white and blue armor covering the rest of him, “says he didn’t pick up anything with his sensors. We were safe. We’re not trying to get you caught, sir. We just need to talk to you.”

“You could kick us out,” the other girl points out, crossing her arms over her chest. She’s not even bothering to wear a domino mask, but Obi-Wan doubts very much he’s looking at her real appearance. She’s Mirial, of course.

Which makes the other boy in a padded white and orange suit Mando. Four of the fifty or so remaining Jedi superheroes are in his house.

Obi-Wan sighs and turns to pad down the hallway. “Shoes off,” he calls behind his shoulder. “And does anyone want any tea?”

“No thank you,” Shili responds politely, falling into step behind him.

“Sit,” he tells them roughly when he notices the four of them standing awkwardly in his cramped dining room. “Sit down.”

He puts the kettle on anyway, and bangs around the cabinets for a few seconds to find an unopened bag of chips and a sleeve of probably stale cookies.

He doesn’t have much else to offer them though. Not now.

Weren’t you the one always telling me to eat my vegetables? A laughing voice murmurs into his ear. Look at you now.

Obi-Wan has to stand for a second in his small and dirty kitchen, chips clutched in one hand and cookies in the other, and breathe for an impossibly long moment.

This is why he had not wanted to ever see another Jedi in his life. All they brought with them were questions and ghosts.

Obi-Wan has enough of those as it is.

The kettle goes off and he pours the hot water into his mug. The cowardly part of him that hasn’t faced a fight in ten years now wants to wait here until the tea has finished steeping and then think of a thousand other excuses to not ever leave the kitchen again. He's good at thinking of excuses. He calls them reasons and lives his life with them.

But he has always known someone would eventually come looking for answers. That had always been one of the prices he knew he would eventually have to pay.

He notices immediately upon entering the dining room that they’ve saved him a seat, if it counts as saving someone a seat when they’ve rearranged the chairs so one is on one side of the table and the other two are squeezed opposite it.

“I hope you don’t mind that I’ve brought snacks to my own interrogation,” he says blithely, depositing them onto the table in front of the children.

Kamino stares intently at them for a second, and then nods once to Shili, who reaches out to open the bag of chips. In a show of good faith, she takes one and eats it. Obi-Wan can’t see her eyes underneath the white lenses of her domino mask, but he’s quite sure she hasn’t stopped looking at him once.

“Are you sure you do not want tea, now we have established I am not going to poison you?” he asks, crossing his ankles and taking a sip from his own mug.

“It’s a bit too warm out there for hot tea,” Mirial says disdainfully, looking at her nails. “You know, what with the world on fire.”

“But I’d take an iced one, if you have it,” Shili leans forward.

Obi-Wan pauses, drink halfway to his mouth.

He sets it down gently on the wood of his table. “Ah. Going straight in, aren’t we?”

“There’s not much time for anything else,” Mando says, and at least he sounds a bit apologetic.

“A weighty statement from someone who can manipulate time itself,” Obi-Wan hums.

“Only for a few seconds,” Mando mutters behind his helmet, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“That’s because you don’t have much in the way of training, young man,” Obi-Wan tells him gently with a hint of steel behind it “Back in my day--”

He cuts himself off. He doesn’t know why. Clearly, they know who he used to be. Otherwise they wouldn’t be here. He’s really just delaying the inevitable, but his throat feels tight. This truth, so long unspoken, is hard to drag into his mouth. And yet, every second he doesn’t speak it, it’s bashing itself to death against the backs of his teeth.

“Would you like us to tell you what we’ve found out about your days?” Mirial asks, looking up from her nails. “Would that make it easier for you, Ilum?”

“Meer--” Shili starts to say, reaching out to touch the girl’s arm, rein her in, but it’s too late.

The planes of Mirial’s face change and shift and suddenly for the first time in ten years, Anakin Skywalker is sitting across from him. “Would you like to talk about the old days, or would you like me to talk about the old days?” Mirial in Anakin’s smooth baritone asks.

It’s cruel. It’s so cruel that for a second Obi-Wan wishes his heart could just stop from the pain of it all. “Please put that away,” he tells the tabletop coldly. “And please. Do not call me that.”

“Meer,” Shili murmurs, and there’s a shift in the air.

When Obi-Wan looks back up, Mirial is back to the way she always appears in press releases, green skin and all. “That was a decent impression,” he tells her. She bristles at the perceived slight, but he holds up his hand. “But when I knew him, his eyes weren’t gold. They were blue.”

“Mustafar has had golden eyes since he joined the Imps,” Mirial argues back in a way that reminds Obi-Wan of another young teenager, who never could learn how to take criticism well.

“And he was someone else before then,” he tells the girl. “He had another name and he had a mother and he had a soulmate and a--fiancee and everything.”

His hands have started to shake, so he clasps the mug tightly, though it burns him.

“Tell us,” Shili insists forcefully but compassionately. Obi-Wan had wondered before why they had chosen to make the girl whose only ability is to fly the leader of the newest Jedi team, but it must be that. It must be her compassion. “Please. You’re the only one who can.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan says. “I know. I’m the only one who is left. But if I am to demask myself, I will not do it to a table of strangers.”

The children turn to look at each other. Kamino cocks his head at Shili, who inclines her own head. Mirial shrugs. Mando shakes his head once, but Shili seems to override him, because she turns back to Obi-Wan and takes off her domino mask.

“My name is Ahsoka Tano,” she says, stumbling over the name. Obi-Wan wonders how many times she’s unmasked herself before. “Or Shili.”

She nudges Mirial, who sighs. “I’m Barriss,” she tells him grudgingly.

Kamino takes off his helmet to reveal a strong-jawed boy with a blond buzzcut. “His name is Rex,” Ahsoka says. “He can’t speak except through minds.”

Obi-Wan blinks in surprise at this. He had known that Kamino had an advanced sense of the senses, could tell something’s molecular makeup just by looking at it, could smell a gas leak from two miles away, etcetera, etcetera, but he hadn’t known the boy could communicate telepathically as well.

“And I’m his twin,” Mando sighs, taking off his own helmet and revealing a startlingly similar face, marred by a scar just across his temple. “Cody.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” Obi-Wan tells them, drumming his fingers on the table. “You know already. I fought under the name Ilum. I could--”

He searches for words to describe his own powers, and settles instead on a demonstration. With a flick of his hand, the liquid in the mug rises and freezes into a miniature wave, suspended in the air.

He lets the ice drop into the mug, and inclines his head to Ahsoka. “Iced tea?” he asks wryly.

“Tell us about Mustafar,” Mando demands. What a heavy thing to carry, Obi-Wan finds himself thinking. The knowledge of all that time.

What Obi-Wan wouldn’t give to be ten years younger again. Not to even change anything, though he would be stupid to not try to. But to just enjoy the moment for what it had been in the end: just a moment.

“We didn’t call him that then,” Obi-Wan sighs and rubs a hand over his face. “We called him Iego in uniform, and Anakin in civvies.

“He was...radiant. In battle and off the field. I was the leader of our team for six years until Anakin came along. And I just knew as soon as I saw him that he would take everything from me. But he wouldn’t have had to take it. I would have given it to him right then.”

“I didn’t think he was that attractive,” Ahsoka mumbles, and then slaps a hand over her mouth as if afraid she’s spoken out of turn and ruined the story so completely that Obi-Wan won’t say anything else.

Instead, Obi-Wan laughs but it doesn’t sound much like a laugh at all. “Well, to each is his own, of course,” he says when he thinks the hysteria has worn off. “And finding out he carried my soul mark certainly helped.”

The room is blissfully silent, which Obi-Wan is beyond thankful for. He just wants to let those never-before admitted truths hang in the air, just for a few more seconds. He almost wants to say them again actually. Anakin Skywalker is my soulmate. Anakin Skywalker carries the same mark I carry, and he always has.

“But…” Barriss says slowly, “But Mustafar’s soulmark is on his neck.”

“It’s not,” Obi-Wan murmurs, staring at the wall behind their heads. “What he has on his neck is an ice burn scar in the shape of a hand. In the shape of my hand. His actual soul mark is on his mid-back, right over his spine.”

“You tried to kill your soulmate?” Ahsoka gasps, looking horrified.

Obi-Wan smiles with no joy behind it. “I tried to save the world,” he corrects her gently.

“You said earlier…” Cody speaks up. “That Mustafar--that Anakin had a fiancee. It wasn’t you, was it?”

“No,” Obi-Wan admits. “I never told him. I...couldn’t. I wanted to wait I suppose. I. Well. My soulmark is identical to his, but it’s on my thigh. And. You know what they say about a soulmatch whose marks aren’t in the same spot.” “Star crossed,” Ahsoka whispers.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan confirms. “I decided to wait. I was a few years older than him, he had so much to learn, he needed a friend more than he needed a soulmate. I had a long list of reasons, all as iron-clad as the next. But they were excuses. I was afraid. This man, my soulmate, could control fire and sunlight itself. He burned with passion, shone with power. And I...I was cold. Too pragmatic, too quick to criticize when he needed praise. The marks were just marks. Maybe they fit together, maybe they matched. But I was terrified that we wouldn’t.

“And by the time I thought to tell him, he came to find me instead. He was in love, he said. He had been seeing a girl for months and was going to ask her to marry him. And I suppose I must have asked about his soulmate, because he told me he would rather never know his soulmate, if knowing meant losing her.”

So. So Obi-Wan had let him go, though that part doesn’t make for a good story. He had distanced himself as much as he could get away with, which is not much really, seeing as how Iego and Ilum fought best when they fought together.

But in the end, his heartbreak had been too much, even for someone as cold as Obi-Wan had been known to be. He’d put in for a temporary transfer. A remedial medical leave, a Jedi-sanctioned sabbatical so he could ostensibly connect with himself and his powers. Nothing longer than a year.

You’ll miss the wedding, Anakin had told him, heartbreak shining in his own eyes.

But his heartbreak had been nothing compared to Obi-Wan’s, and so he had left. He had needed to. It had felt like rending his soul in two, but he had.

Two weeks into his stay at a different Jedi training base, Obi-Wan had died in an explosion. “That hadn’t been Jedi sanctioned,” he tells the children in front of him wryly. “We thought it was an accident at the time, but there were too many coincidences. Too many casualties.” But Obi-Wan’s death had been the only casualty Anakin had felt. It hadn’t mattered that someone had managed to restart his heart only a few minutes later. He had died. He had died and Anakin had felt his soulmate die. He had burned his fiancee in his own uncontrollable agony. She had not survived Obi-Wan’s death, even though Obi-Wan himself had.

“I...I don’t know what happened. Still. It’s been years and I have thought of little else. She may have been standing too close to him when it happened. Or...the house may have caught on fire and she was trapped inside. Or...I don’t know. I don’t know,” he spreads his hands palm up on the table and looks at the faces of the children.

He sighs and continues. There is so little left in the story now. “The Jedi Order decided to tell the press that there had been no survivors, though there had been a few. We couldn’t know if the Imperials were behind the attack or not, so we had to be careful. The survivor’s families were told, and their soulmates. Officially, I had no family. I had...no soulmate. They didn’t tell anyone I had survived. Ilum died in that explosion. Still to this day, he's dead.

“Anakin had always been absurdly powerful...and dangerous. He’d killed the love of his life, had felt his soulmate dying, and then...heard that I too had died. The first two had destabilized him, but my death and the Jedi Order’s staunch rejection of his request to see my body, to give me a funeral...it made him even more vulnerable to outside manipulation.”

“The Imperials….” Cody murmurs.

Obi-Wan nods, lip curling up. “The Imperials,” he agrees. “The timeline is fuzzy. I spent a good part of these weeks partially dead, one foot in both worlds. I didn’t know what was going on. When I was well enough to watch the news, the Jedi told me there was a new super villain working with the Imperials, going by the name Mustafar. I trained to kill him as he was helping the Imps decimate the Jedi. All of my old team was dead. Anakin was missing. I didn’t--”

He cuts himself off and runs a hand down his face. The children are waiting on his words. He’s telling them why they’re fighting wars adults should be fighting. He’s telling them why they’re out in the field after only a month or less of training. He’s trying to tell them why he isn’t out there fighting with them, but he knows already they won’t accept his excuses.

They shouldn’t have to.

“They gave me a new uniform and a new name,” Obi-Wan picks up the story. “Hoth. And I went off to kill my soulmate.”

“But you didn’t,” Barriss says, and she sounds vaguely confused and vaguely accusatory.

“I almost did,” Obi-Wan admits, like it’s a sin, like it's salvation. “Everything about him was different. He was not the passionate but warm boy I had known. He was a forest fire. A volcano. And Mustafar’s fighting style was completely different from Iego’s. I only realized it was Anakin--my Anakin--when I managed to knock his mask off. I had my hand around his throat, but when I realized who I was fighting...I let go. I couldn’t kill him. Even after everything he did. Even knowing...knowing Iego was gone.”

The dining room is silent for a second, before three voices burst out angrily at once.

“Why aren’t you helping the Jedi?” Ahsoka asks the loudest. “Hoth--Ilum, Obi-Wan. We need you. Mustafar--the Imperials...they’re not going to stop. They’ve killed so many Jedi. We need you to help us.”

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan says. “I cannot.”

“You used to be a hero,” Barriss accuses. “Now what are you? A hollowed out, sad man.”

“I was never a hero,” he snaps. “I followed orders. Anyone can do that.”

“You were the best,” Cody says quietly, cutting Obi-Wan to the bone. “You led the Geonosis team for six years. I studied you in class. You were...the best.”

“I wasn’t,” Obi-Wan disagrees just as quietly. “But perhaps you all are.”

“You haven’t even told us any weakness we could use against him in battle!” Barriss shouts, standing up suddenly, which causes the chair to clatter over. “You’ve been no help at all! I’m leaving, this is a waste of time!”

“Barriss--!” Ahsoka cries after the girl, grabbing her discarded mask and taking after her.

Cody opens his mouth and then closes it. He jams the helmet back onto his head. “The soulmark. You said it’s on his hip?”

Obi-Wan smiles mirthlessly. Cody is trying to see if he can catch him in a lie, if this is actually good tactical information or not. “It’s a few inches below his shoulder blades, right over his spine.”

Cody nods once and then files out, leaving Obi-Wan alone in the room with the silent, still helmetless Rex.

“I just told him how to kill my supervillain soulmate,” Obi-Wan tells Rex, even though he’s really talking to himself. “Soulmarks, even dead ones, are extremely sensitive. If Anakin had hit me with his fire on my other thigh, I would be dead. Not just crippled. Muscle, young man, doesn’t grow back easily.”

He rubs a hand over the leg in question, staring down at the uneven way his pants lay over the old injury. It aches from the walking he’s forced it to do today, from trying to walk normally im front of these powerful strangers.

Rex taps the table to get him to look up, and then gestures to his own eyes.

“I?” Obi-Wan asks, confused.

Rex rolls his eyes and then mimes writing something.

“Ah, there should be a pen and pad in the kitchen?” he trails off as the teenager goes to retrieve the aforementioned things.

It takes a second longer than it should, and he comes out carrying just a slip of paper with his helmet forced back onto his head.

With a flick of his fingers, the paper’s lying on the table and Rex is following his teammates out the door and out of Obi-Wan’s apartment and hopefully out of his life forever.

Curious, Obi-Wan grabs the note and unfolds it to read.

We thought Musta. had yel. eyes because all the top Imps have yel. eyes. But if Ankn had blue eyes, then mybe none of the imps should have yel eyes.

No one knows what sidious power is -> what if it’s mind control?

Obi-Wan puts the note down onto the table with shaking hands. He wishes desperately he had never read it.

Because those words plant a seed of hope in his chest he isn’t sure he’ll be able to live without now.

What if Anakin--his Anakin--what if he’s in there still? What if Obi-Wan had abandoned him to ten years of brainwashing and mind control with not much of a fight at all?

But more pressingly, what if there’s hope for him? For both of them? Still, after all this time?

#asks #my fics #look i did another prompt #obikin #superheroes au #i was thinkin of the robert frost fire and ice poem when i went to sleep #and this was the result lmao #obviously they end up together #idk what to tell you #probably big moment for anakin who still thinks obi-wan is dead #for him to show up ten years older than he ever thought he'd see him #limping and being called hoth #i liked the superhero names being after the planets they're from (i mean mostly #iego is cause of the angels thing and obi-wan is like oof hes radiant hes great hes an angel)#hes a mass murderer (again) is what he is #god i hope this fic makes sense its 4:41 #prompt fill

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seancekitsch · 3 years

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Out of the Rain: a Marko x Reader fic

Warnings: bloodplay goes without saying bc vamp, rough sex, dirty talk, semi public sex, telepathy?? me projecting my music taste on this fic again. drug use, fast and loose use of vampire lore bc when i write i am god and u cannot stop me. also can u tell i have like…. v clear descriptions of the setting like i used to work at the place im describing but its not in california

No one had come in for hours. What's the point of staying open? You dim some of the lights in the store, which is one of three head shops in Santa Carla, but the only one open late. You're not really sure why this is the only store that stays open, why everyone else if worried about the three am walk back to their car on a weekend night. You've never seen anything of suspicion, just sometimes that biker gang watches people shuffle out. That was almost comforting, though. People didn't like those guys, so no one would make you use your switchblade if they were around.

The bright while fluorescent lights of your typical daytime ambiance faded away, and now green light bathes you in the “mood” lighting your boss thought was a good idea. The green lighting reflects off of the glass counters, shining it back at the ceiling and making everything that much more green. It fits, you think with the overall vibe of the store. The stale scent of weed, gently and miserably covered up by some nag champa incense, always burning in at least four different spots within the store. You'd long since gotten used to the smoke in your eyes. The music does everything to add to the ambiance. You always have full control of the music in the shop, usually because no one else is willing to take the night shift in Santa Carla. In fact, most of the boardwalk shops had a revolving door of night shift workers. You never got why, something clearly spooks them that does not spook you. Whether that makes you brave or stupid, you dont know. Jefferson Airplane’s Surrealistic Pillow pumps through the speakers in the store. But I suppose no one knows, you're my plastic fantastic lover.

The rain batters the boardwalk outside, a roar much different than the typical hustle and bustle of drunk teens, of the cliques and crews that come in and out; the few that sit and snicker in the doorway, never entering. Some too afraid to be associated with the implication of being spotted in the shop. We sell jewelry and vinyl too, you always say, when they balk at the idea of being in the same room as a bong or incense.

But then there's the other group that stands and idles in the threshold, also not entering. It's that biker gang. Four guys, a girl, a kid. Maybe he’s the brat of the girl and the one who takes himself too seriously, but maybe not. She looks too young for that. They'd been hovering around quite a bit lately, always after dark. You’d spoken to them, at least the ones that are talkative. The hair metal wannabe and the cute short one. Paul and Marko. You knew the dark haired one was Dwayne, but all he ever offered you was a curt nod and a tight lipped smile, respectful but indifferent. They're nice, not worth the spooky reputation they have. Any time it's not just you at the shop, your boss tries to spook them away. Good thing your boss isn't here tonight, because one of them is prowling around the storefront in the rain. That is, if it's not your spliff induced haze playing tricks on you.

No, one of them is out there. Without his little pack. The cute one. Marko.

You walk over to the door, which you haven't had propped open since the rain trickled in as a drizzle at the beginning of your shift. At least he had enough sense to be huddling under the awning. Fuck, he’s handsome even when he looks like a drowned rat.

“What are you doing out here?” You scrunch up your nose as you ask.

“Y’know, waiting for you to show up.” Wanted a look at that cute ass.

You blink at him. Did he really just say that?

“Okay… well, you know it's raining out there, right?”

“I might,” he offers noncommittally, eyeing the spliff still in the hand that's not holding the door. If it were anyone but him, you'd probably get fired for it.

Why is he just hanging around out here? That's hella weird. His curls are getting matted to his forehead, slick with rain, his jacket starting to look a little sad.

“C’mon in, Marko. It’s too wet out here. You’ll fuck up your jacket.” You nod towards the interior of the shop holding the door open as he passes you.

Wrong move, sweet cheeks.

“What did you say?” What did he mean, wrong move?

“I didn't say anything,” he offers nonchalantly as he thumbs at one of the tapestries on the wall. A garish mess that’s supposed to be the worm from Alice in Wonderland, but it’s distorted by a botched tie dye job of dark muddy colors. Every time you look at it, you assume one of the day workers did it.

“No, you said something.”

“Do you want me to say something?” there's both a threat and an innuendo in his tone. Maybe you do, but you just laugh, a sharp exhale through your nose, and bring the spliff to your lips again as he follows you deeper into the store.

You jump up onto the counter next to the ash tray, easy reach for each time you need to ash.

“So why are you really here?” your eyes narrow at him, kicking your sandal off on the floor where it lands a few inches from his boots. He looks uneasy in the space, like for all the wild shit you assume he’s into, he might not actually belong in it. He sways a little to the music, perfectly in tune with the rhythm. You sway along too, and suddenly he fills the space like he belongs. He just needed someone along for the ride with him.

“Do you ever come around during the day, or just at night because I’m so fun?” You’re teasing him, but it’s a nice easy feeling between you.

“Not really a sun guy,” bullshit, he would look beautiful with a tan, “but I do drag everyone here just to see you.”

“Awww, all for me? Do you have a crush, Marko?”

It’s more than that. You hear the words clearly, but his smile doesn’t move. You kick the other sandal off.

“I can hear you, I don’t know how, but I can. I bet you can hear me too.”

I can. You’re wrong about the tan thing.

You straighten up, mind clearing as you blurt out your next question. Something absolutely stupid.

“So what are you, a vampire or something?” he laughs at you, but his big toothy smile doesn't reach his eyes. No, there's something predatory, extremely dark in his eyes. Otherworldly.

How could you guess?

“Well, that for one big fucking clue.” You ash the spliff for the final time, leaving the roach in the tray. You would think you’d be more surprised, more upset that you just found out vampires were real, and that you were in the same room as one. You have to say, weirder things are probably afoot in Santa Carla. Murder capital of the world can’t all be from some rowdy teens and a ten year old.

“You do those surf nazis?” is all that leaves your mouth. You kind of hope it was. They were the fucking worst. Racist, misogynistic, destructive. You’d had to threaten them a few times to leave your store on your shift.

“The—? Oh! Surf nazis. Yeah that was us. Ate a few of them.”

“Good for you. I mean— murder. bad. But they were nazis, and now they’re dead. so…” you trail off. Not really sure what to say next, but then you keep going. Remember everything you know about Marko.

“No, no I mean, it makes sense. Right? You and the guys only hang around at night. Aren’t vampires solitary hunters though? I don’t remember Dracula being in a frat.”

“They’re my pack. We take care of each other.” He says it with such fondness and devotion.

You feel a pang of jealousy run through you. You work alone for the most part, live alone, you’ve got friends but they’re all over the place. He belongs to something.

“And you're down with this?” he’s legitimately asking. You nod. You don't really have a choice, you're down or you get eaten, but like genuinely you are down with it. If he was going to eat you, he probably would have by now. There's probably a reason they've been hanging around the store, and in your sightline while you close up. You're putting things together.

“Like really?”

“Well, you haven't made me a kebab yet.”

He shrugs, frowns.

“Could still skewer you on something.”

Laughter erupts from your lips while you roll your eyes, music to Marko’s ears. This is why he took a shine to you, it's easy to get along with you, and you're not one of his brothers.

Something heavy falls in the room, and it's not the haze of the incense. He steps towards you, big blue eyes raking over your body, but always coming back to meet your gaze. He closes the space between you, easily fitting between your thighs; the rough patches of his jacket brushing against your bare skin where your shorts ride up. He leans in, like he's about to kiss you, and against all better judgement, you're going to let him.

You're going to let him.

The record skips. He holds out his hand, more like a gentleman than a biker gang killer, and helps you off the counter.

“Hold on, let me pick out a new record,” you turn without waiting for his confirmation, not at all surprised when Marko follows hot on your heels to the back room. Your boss’ office, the record room. Whatever you wanted to call it. His hands ghost over your arms as you push past the wooden bead curtain to enter the room. You can feel his presence close enough to touch. That's it, right where I want you. There’s his voice again.

He lets you actually pick out a new record. You slide it out of the sleeve and walk it over to the player. The static buzzes and pops as the needle finds the groove.

“Ocean Rain, you heard it?” No. He shakes his head, and you can feel it as he leans into your back.

“Echo and the Bunnymen. They've got a new album coming out this year.”

You turn to face him and his fingerless leather glove clad hands cover your cheeks.

He kisses you gently, tenderly. Not at all the way you’d expect. He’s eager, kissing like there’s something to prove. He licks his way into your mouth, tongue pushing your lips apart and you let him. His arms tighten around you as you kiss, tongues now greeting each other playfully. Your tongue explores his mouth, running along each and every tooth in his mouth. Huh, no fangs, you realize, and maybe he isn't actually a vampire. As if he reads your mind (maybe he does), he pulls away.

“They're, uh, hiding,’ he nods, almost to himself more than you. You nod as well, slow and uneasy, not quite believing him, but he pulls you back into a harsh kiss, more of what you expected. His hands roam your body as yours bury themselves in his curls. Still damp, but long and beautiful just as well. He shrugs the jacket off his shoulders, and his hands only briefly leave you to throw it and his gloves somewhere else, leaving him just in a thin white tank top. His mouth leaves yours to trail lower, kissing your neck. Your pulse point. Fucking irresistable. No, that's definitely his voice. Is this the end? Could be.

“I can smell you, hot stuff,” he moans into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You find yourself gripping onto his shoulders a little tighter, but he lets you sink. He guides you, again more gently than you thought he would; bare knees brushing the threadbare carpet floor before you plant yourself. You look up at him through your lashes and he all but bites back a groan.

“You gonna join me down here?” You lick your lips, waiting for something.

“Nah, I’m gonna let you have a head start,” there's a joke in his tone. You're learning that’s normal for him. He’s silent, or playing jester. It’ll be interesting when you let him fuck you. Shit, did he hear that?

“Quit thinkin’ so loud!” he runs an affectionate hand through your hair. “But yes, I heard you. Glad you're as eager as I am.”

That's encouraging. You take your time undoing his belt, connected to faded and soft leather chaps, not bothering to push them down his thighs before you move to the top of his jeans, teasing your fingers at the skin just above the waistline. He shudders under your touch, extremely reactive. Does he get touched like this often? Or is it just quick fucks? You don't want to think about who else he might be doing this with, focusing again on his body, and all of the offending clothing covering it. You unbutton them slowly, teasing. For a member of the undead, he seems to be out of breath under your movements. The zipper is pulled down just as slowly. You run your palms flat along the bottom of his stomach, to his hips before pushing his jeans down to around his ankles, hooking his boxers on your finger along with them. He’s beautiful, and you can help but stare. Hard, eager, and thick, greeting you with a small trimmed patch of golden blonde curls. You wrap your hand around the base.

You never expected a vampire to whimper, but that's exactly what happens when your tongue darts out of your mouth to lick the head of his cock. Quick, tentative little lick, testing the waters. Your tongue swipes across the slit at the tip of his thick member and his hands animate like you flipped a switch, rising up, going to your hair, rising up again, slamming down against the desk. Your boss’ desk. You lick a long stripe to the underside of his cock, paying close attention to the prominent vein there.

“So good, so good, oh you feel so-” he pants out, hands white knuckling the edge of the desk. Heat pools in your core, loving that he’s so vocal. Fuck, if he could just keep speaking. Your other hand moves to your shorts, sloppily and hastily undoing them and wiggling them down to your knees. You wrap your lips around the head of his cock and sink down on it, taking him as far as you can, until you couch when he hits the back of your throat.

“You look fucking beautiful like that. Please move, Please move, you’re so fucking good at this.”

You do, starting to bob your head up and down on the length of him, hollowing out your cheeks and flattening your tongue against him, cupping and massaging his balls in your hand. Your free finds itself between your legs, rubbing gently at your clit, stirred and encouraged by his praise.

“Does sucking me off get you hot and bothered?” Yesitdoes.

You keep bobbing your head, rubbing your clit, eyes trained on his until his eyes squeeze shut. His cock twitches in your mouth.

“Don't wanna- don't wanna finish in your mouth,” he’s urgent, grabbing you by the chin and pulling your mouth off of his cock. He pushes you back by your shoulders, letting you guide yourself back to lay on the rug. He pulls your loose shorts easily off your legs and settles himself between your legs, too eager to bother with removing his boots and everything.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for so long. Do you know how bad I wanted this?”

“Fuck me, Marko, dont say it. Just do it,” youre breathless under him, wanting nothing more than for him to be fucking you. He pauses.

“I dunno…” his thumb swipes up along your clit, drawing a whine from your throat, “For some reason I think you like it when I say things.”

You nod, knowing words will fail you. And he gives you what you want, lining himself up and sinking into you, groaning as he buries his head into the crook of your neck.

“Oh I knew your pussy would feel like fucking heaven,” he pants against your neck, pressing a harsh kiss to the underside of your jaw. He sets the pace quickly, unmerciful and fast, fucking hard and deep into you. His hands push up your thin tee shirt, and you can feel his sigh of relief when he gets a handful of bare breast. He doesn't have to deal with a bra tonight. You hike your knees up, opening yourself as much as you can to him, wanting him to fill you to the brim. He looks into your eyes while he fucks you, which comes as a surprise to you. Maybe it shouldn't. You wonder what it would be like to be a victim of his. Does he treat them well? Have fun with them like this? Or is he vicious? You don't know if you could picture him like that… vamped out.

“What does it feel like?”

“What?” he thrusts sharply, snapping his hips into you, making you yelp.

“To be fed on, but not to die.”

Are you serious? You hear him in your head.

YesIam. He thrusts like that again, earning an identical yelp, now coupled with your thighs squeezing him around the middle. You're close already, and he can tell.

He nods, a question; You nod, confirmation.

He pulls at the neckline of your shirt, already scooping so it doesn’t ruin, and exposes your shoulder. Somewhere non lethal. His other hand comes up to grip your jaw, covering your neck but being careful not to squeeze it. You hope he bruises your jaw, you realize. A physical way to feel him when dawn comes. He slows his pace to a rocking, grinding into you, staying deep.

Then he bites. Stars erupt behind your eyes, and it feels like your blood has turned to seltzer. Every nerve in your body is in overdrive as you moan and shake and come undone around his cock. You're the kind of girl that comes from the bite of a vampire, apparently. He doesn’t let up. You can faintly hear him moaning against the open wound in your shoulder, and you hope you taste good to him. He licks the wound a few times more, softly, carefully, like he’s trying to soothe you when he finally lets you come down from your high.

When he pulls back to let you see him, his features are gruesome, full vampire with sharp brows and cheekbones, pointed nose even that much more so almost birdlike. Fangs and bottom half of his face covered in blood.Your blood. He’s panting like an animal after the kill. But he doesn't scare you. Maybe he should, but he doesn't. It's just Marko, no matter what, and if he wanted to eat you he would have. Several times now. His hand finally releases your jaw, to wipe the blood from his face. He wipes his hand then on your face, covering you in your own blood, hot on his fingers and palm.

“Fuckin sexy,” he pants, voice deeper and distorted. His thrusts speed up, trying to find his own release as your nails dig into his back, maybe making him bleed as well. You feel the rug burn forming on your back, you feel tears in your eyes. It's never felt this good with other guys.

When he comes, he comes with a howl, buried deep inside you as he shouts and shivers then stills above you. Your chest is heaving, trying to regain yourself as his face slowly fades to normal, and he slumps down on top of you. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, near the wound he tore open, now no longer bleeding. He mouths at any bare skin he can find, lazy half kisses as he spreads more mess and blood on you. Your fingers find his curls again, winding them around your digits as you stare up at the sickly green mood lighting bathing the walls of the room.

An hour later, Marko is helping you lock up early.

He makes sure to dump out all of the ashes from spliffs and incense, makes sure the vinyl is all in its right place while you make sure the register and inventory is all in its rightful place and order.

“You’re dangerous, you know.”

“Me?” you scoff, “That rich, coming from you.”

I’d do a lot of things I’m not supposed to for you. You kinda don't want to ask him what he means by that. For some reason that feels like a conversation you shouldn't have tonight.

He leaves the store before you, holding the door open for you and letting you lock the doors. He slings an easy arm over your shoulder, not bothering to shield either of you from the rain as he steers you towards your car. You can feel the rain cleaning your face, the blood flowing away and saving you the shower you were going to take before collapsing into bed tonight.

“Where’s your bike?”

“I flew here,” he says with that devilish smile, and you're really not sure if he's joking or not. Your arm sneaks its way into his jacket and wraps around his waist, holding him close as he makes sure you get home same. Marko makes you feel calm, in a way you didn't feel before you moved to Santa Carla. How long had he been waiting to make his move? And does this mean he and his brothers would be coming around more often? Maybe being more friendly towards you. Each step towards your car feels heavy; You don't want to go home alone without him, but somehow you know he won't come with you.

“Will I see you again?”

He grabs your car keys from your hand, and sticks them in the door handle. Of course you will.

Right. You just have to be near the beach at night. You know, where you work.

He kisses you full on the mouth, holding you close and tight, like you could slip away at any second. When he finally lets you go you pull away to be met with his face, full on grinning, his eyes still closed from the kiss. He doesn't look like a killer.

Marko watches you as you pull open the door to your car and more or less throw your ass into the seat. He holds the door as he gives you one last smile, and says:

“You know, you should never invite a vampire into your life. Renders you powerless.”

And he winks.

#marko lost boys x reader #lost boys x reader #marko lost boys #my work

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crispyjenkins · 3 years

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Omg! Dookus padawan au is fabulous! I love it! Although now im curious about how melida daan would go with a more confident obi and a master whos supportive of him and listens

(i originally planned this to be a dramatic harrowing recounting of obi’s time on Melida/Daan, but it did not turn out like that ಥ_ಥ

thank you for enabling me with this au, anon, i love it so much and i somehow don’t write little-shit-obi nearly as much as i should. i hope this satisfies! ( ˘ ³˘) bonus nield ‘cause he’s dead in dha kar’ta and i got big sad about it)

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"Obi-Wan, did you fuck the Mand'alor."

Obi-Wan grins at Nield from the cell across from him, sitting in half-lotus like any proper Jedi on a routine kidnapping, and Jango sighs in the next cell over.

"You overestimate how much either of us would like that," Obi-Wan chirps, even though they all know that's not really what Nield is asking.

And he makes his feelings about that clear, leveling Obi-Wan with an unimpressed deadpan that Obi-Wan really doesn't think is warranted. "Is this what you thought I meant when I told you to lay low?" he asks gruffly. "Become the youngest Jedi Master in two centuries and shack up with another Anti-Republic System's leader?"

Jango slants a look at him. "What do you mean 'another'?"

"Well, technically, Nield, I never shacked up with you either," Obi-Wan reasons. "And you were only governor for about three days."

"That still counts!"

"De'jate werda, this is about the Young?"

"Language, dear," Obi-Wan chides blandly, and Jango throws his stale roll at him through the bars; it misses him by a foot anyways. "But yes, I'm afraid so. I did tell you the Daan regularly kidnap me for ransom from the Jedi, didn't I?"

Grumbling, Jango flops against the back wall to scowl. "I was under the impression they had stopped after your Cerasi renamed the planet."

"They did," Nield pipes up, poking at his own inedible roll. "Since I'm here, it probably still does have to do with the leaders of Tahl, but why they nabbed your boyfriend is beyond me."

Jango rolls his eyes. "Probably because I was with him when they grabbed him."

"Don't sound so put-upon, we hadn't seen each other in months." Aside from a single holocall before Obi-Wan had gone undercover with a Mid-Rim diplomatic convoy, both he and Jango had been too busy to take the time off for even a quick visit, and they'd had all of twenty minutes together before their kidnappers had broken into Jango's apartment on Coruscant. They had been in the middle of dinner and everything, and Obi-Wan mourns the tiingilar left on their table.

Though, he supposes, he had made it with Rodian chillies instead of Mandalorian ones just to kark with Jango, so Maker knows if it had even been edible.

Snorting, Nield runs his hands through his hair and leans as far over as he can to look down the halls of their cellblock, as if he and Jango hadn't already done that. "I imagine you haven't broken out yet because you're the only one of us in cuffs?"

Obi-Wan helpfully raises his bound hands to show him the new-fangled force-suppressing manacles that have become more popular over the last few years, what with the sudden spike in number of Jedi. "I’ve never seen them before," he offers. "They're not nearly as strong as Ventress' collar, but I'm afraid I'm of no use to you unless we get them off."

Nield sighs. "I said to lay low, Kenobi. You were the one to bag Ventress?"

"I didn't exactly have a choice in the matter, my dear: she rather forced my hand."

"No, no, we're not glossing over this again," Jango growls, getting to his feet to lean on his bars so he can glare at the both of them. "Why'd you tell him to lay low? When did you tell him to lay low?"

“I’ve been telling him for years!”

“But especially since the last attempt on Cerasi’s life.”

“Ner ca’tra,” Jango sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Do you have a bounty on you again?”

Nield waves emphatically, as if finally proven right. “‘Again’! What does he mean ‘again’, Obi-Wan?”

Rolling his eyes, Obi-Wan knows it’s not nearly as bad as they’re both making it out to be. “To my knowledge, no, I don’t think I currently have a bounty out on my head, and Neild, it would only be the second time.” He unfolds himself and pushes upright, stretching his legs before sticking his bound hands through the bars. “Now, if you two would stop nagging, I need you to try shorting out the locking mechanism with your water cups.”

Jango sighs but still moves to grab the single cup of water that had been in the cells when they arrived; Nield stays at his door and scowls. “You’re not sure if it’ll work?”

Obi-Wan raises a brow. “No, I’m actually quite confident it will: Quinlan and I have escaped the Daan twice like this. I just wasn’t sure if your arms would reach.”

“Ha ha,” Jango drawls, sticking his own arms out to try and reach across the narrow walkway between their lines of cells. “Was that before or after you liberated the planet.”

Nield is absolutely no help, groaning and laughing both as he ducks back to get his own water. “I’ve yet to meet this mysterious Quinlan that you assure me is actually real, but it’s been a decade and a half, ‘Nobi.”

He sniffs in offense, stretching out as far as he can for Jango to tip his cup over his wrists. “He’s doing it on purpose. Quinlan Vos is never more amused than when he is making my life more difficult, so I’m afraid he’s been avoiding you, my dear.”

“A likely story,” Nield snorts, and his significantly-longer arms easily allow him to pour his water directly into the locking mechanism. It starts sparking immediately, Obi-Wan jerking to the side to protect his face while Nield yelps and pulls back.

Feeling the Force rush back into his bones like a splash of tihaar, Obi-Wan easily snaps the cuffs down the centre and kicks open his cell door.

Obi-Wan wasn't even supposed to be here, but when he's on his way back from Ilum to finally build a second lightsaber so he can move up from the jar’kai practice ’sabers Master Windu has him using, the Force sidelines him by forcing the Crucible into an emergency landing for the first time since Huyang's creation. A problem with the hyperdrive or something, nothing crucial to replace, something easily fixed once planetside, but just bad enough that they have to land on the nearest planet to fix it.

Where Qui-Gon Jinn just so happens to be already on a mission attempting to rescue another Jedi master. Where there are actual children fighting for control of the capital city.

It takes Obi-Wan less than an hour to find Jinn and the Young, and perhaps an hour more to decide he would be sending Masters Tahl and Jinn back to the Temple without him. Master Yan would understand, it would hardly be the first time he had taken advantage of his master’s absence to do what the Force was telling him to.

He is there a month before Master Yan returns with four Jedi Masters and their padawans, and permission from the Senate to aid the Young until a treaty could be reached. Obi-Wan is frankly too intimidated by his master securing the warrant nobody had managed to in seventy-five years to ask just how he’d done it; and Master Yan doesn’t scold him except to tell him in no uncertain terms that he is never to trust Qui-Gon Jinn’s judgement on anything to do with children.

Luckily his following lecture about the faults of jar’kai and the importance of proper dueling technique is cut off by an ambush from the Melida, and he never gets back around to it even after the Young retake the planet. Obi-Wan is still unsure whether he prefers the three days of sexual education he gets instead, when Cerasi admits she had caught Nield and Obi-Wan kissing in the hall after her election.

Yan meets them outside, not looking very surprised to see them simply walking from the brig that had been their home for the last eight hours. Their human kidnappers are cuffed and being processed by a pair of Judiciary Branch clerks Yan had evidently brought with him, which would rather explain why there had been no one to hinder their escape.

Raising a brow, a million questions in the simple gesture, Yan holds out Obi-Wan’s cloak, waiting for him to put it on before giving him his ’sabers as well. “I fear I must apologise, your honor,” he rumbles like the words simultaneously amuse him and burn his mouth. “My former apprentice still has not learned how to keep others safe from his continued imbroglios.”

Jango snorts, accepting one of Obi-Wan’s ’sabers to hold until he can get his blasters back; Nield’s eyes almost bug out of his head. “Do we know what they were after?”

Yan’s lips curl almost-mockingly. “A trade agreement, I believe. President Cerasi and the Delegates of Tahl had already turned them away, so they thought to strong-arm the Melidaan system instead.”

“So you weren’t even a political prisoner,” Obi-Wan teases a Nield already burying his face in his hands, “just a familial hostage, my dear.”

“Shut him up before I do,” Nield tells Jango.

Who simply smirks and holds up his hands. “You overestimate how much control I have over anything he does.”

“Maker, he really does have you wrapped around his finger.”

“To be fair, I’ve known Jango far more intimately.”

“I’m leaving,” Nield announces, spinning on heel to stalk towards the rescue cruiser from Tahl despite knowing Obi-Wan simply means he’s never had visions of Nield, even as far back as the Civil War.

Jango leans over and surreptitiously whispers, "Was Nield the bad wall-makeout?"

"Maker, he was horrible, my dear."

Mando’a: Mand’alor — “Sole ruler”, contended ruler of Mandalore. "De'jate werda" — "By the Great Darkness", slang from Concord Dawn, used as an expletive similar to "Christ!" or "Good lord." tiingilar — Mandalorian casserole specified to be “blisteringly spicy” ner ca'tra — “my night sky”, intimate term of endearment tihaar — Mandalorian strong clear spirit made from fruit

*also obi is a master earlier ‘cause of his clairvoyance, since i’m subscribing to the “you become a master jedi when you master a part of yourself” version of the master trials in this. anyways.*

#crispy writes #prompt fill #melida/daan au #dooku's padawan au #soft and gay all around #little shit obi is everything and i don't write him enough #prequel trilogy #au #jangobi #jango fett #obi wan kenobi #nield of the young #cerasi of the young #cerasi renamed the planet tahl (ღ˘⌣˘ღ)#and the system to melidaan #cerasi is alive and president and WILL send the entire jedi order to rescue her idiot brothers #yan dooku #i... keep forgetting how to tag my own work

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scholarlypidgeot · 3 years

Text

Prompt 10.

“You don’t need to leave so soon.” He gently pried the book open in her hands. She wanted to pretend it was against her will as her eyes fell to the page. “You said it yourself: the library may have more books, but these archives are flowing with forbidden knowledge. Just a few more minutes- another peek.”

She couldn’t stop her eyes from resting there, for a moment. The words were in Aurbean, and she wasn’t yet fluent, but she knew a few of them. After final battle - War of Seven - moved chief city - present day. She knew already that if she took the time to actually puzzle through it, the words might come to make sense. The temptation nagged at her - he was right, nobody would know. But her limits... She knew what she wasn't ready for. The fear of misunderstanding had been beaten into her head by her training so far. If she didn't know her limits, it was better to underestimate than overestimate.

The book thumped shut, and Pat didn’t let Drake stop her from sliding it back onto the shelf. When she opened her eyes again, the disappointment on Drake’s face was obvious.

“Not to your...taste?” he asked, and then licked his lips while he reached for another volume. “This one seems to be in the Standard-

“Don’t belittle yourself like that!” Drake put his hands on her shoulders, and his smile was genuine, if a little unnerving. “I’ve heard you, Trisha! You’re one of the smartest people I’ve spoken to in- a long time. I believe you could do anything you put your mind to.”

Part of her wanted to be afraid of his excitement, but the rest was touched. Perhaps it was just her vanity. He’d only known her for a few hours after all- but if he thought she could, could she really say no to him?

“Not- yet.” She hesitated. “I appreciate the enthusiasm, Drake, but I don’t think I’m ready...yet. A little more research into language, culture, history - just for context -”

“Just think about it! This is an opportunity to open a door you didn’t expect to be open. What do you want to know?” He took a deep breath, then said, “If you knew you were going to die soon-”

“Morbid, but okay.”

He laughed before picking back up, “What would you want to know? What would you want to read for your last lesson?”

She stepped back, out from between his hands, and he let her go. Then she took a long, deep breath, and it tasted like stale air and ancient books. When she first came to the University, that might have been a difficult question. But she’d been thinking, lately. About life. About what it meant to be a Keeper. What it meant to remember, and what might happen if that memory couldn’t be shared.

“I wouldn’t want to read anything. I think if I knew I was going to die, I’d want to hear something, to be given a story that maybe I alone would get to Keep. I’d want to learn the kind of secret that should die with me.”

He was quiet for a few moments, and Pat gently slid the book he was holding back on the shelf. And then, slowly, he smiled, a broad and toothy grin that seemed more like a show of force than one of joy. And when he did, a deep, cold certainty settled in her chest with such force that it left her momentarily in shock.

“You should have a seat then, Trisha. There are a few things I’ve wanted to get off my chest anyway.”

------

@irishironclad - I accidentally deleted your ask but this one's for you!

@that-catholic-shinobi @a-beautiful-crow @bespectacled-ghost @borgesperovago @distance-does-not-matter @mad-ad @ps-im-blind - if you'd like to be added to/removed from this list please let me know!

Thanks for the prompt! Feel free to send more!

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justoneday-namjoonii · 4 years

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forgive me

anon request: “I really love the way you write angsty stuff so if u want, can u write a scene where jungkook is like involved in illegal stuff like drugs or maybe he's a hitman, Y/N and Jungkook have a conflict about that because she's not happy with what he does, he gets hurt a lot but he enjoys his job and doesn't wanna give it up cuz he loves the thrill. It can be an emotional scene where Y/N tells him that she's afraid of losing him because of what he does. Honestly come up with anything, I don't mind 😂”

prompt: Jungkook is a druglord, you’re a waitress at a shabby burger place. He loves what he does and even though you try to ignore it, it scares you. You fear you’ll lose him if he doesn’t quit and he’s all you have. Your so called family are full of lies and if it wasn’t for Jungkook, you don’t know where you’d be. You wonder every night if the sirens you hear are for him—you pray it’s not for him. Secretly, he feels the same about you.

pairing: Jungkook x reader

genre: angst, drabble, mental health issues, mentions of murder, mature subject matter

author’s note: For the anon who requested this, this is for you! I hope you enjoy~ did i watch Truth be Told and decide to make the OC a twin? yes, yes i did

When you opened your eyes, you started to feel around for your cellphone. When you couldn't feel for it, you rolled over and yawned, it's probably under the bed. That's where its gonna stay too. As soon as you got home from work, you fell face-first into your bed and taking a shower was the last thing on your mind. But now you're feeling the stale department store smell on your clothes. It takes about two minutes for you to roll out of bed and realize you that Jungkook should have been here by now. You grab your phone and see two missed calls and a text from 2 hours ago.

jungkook💖💫: im sorry ill be over a little later baby, something came up

jungkook💖💫: i miss you angel

You smile, he always misses you. And you miss him too, but you know he's probably out there in the slums of the city, doing what he does. How you lucked out with him, you have no idea. One night you were trying to call an Uber to get home from a birthday party at the club. It was around midnight and you had to work so you couldn't hang with the hardcore crowd. You went outside to call for a ride but you were being watched. Some guy kept catcalling, just outright harassing you. It was the scariest night of your life. You were telling him to leave you alone but he was drunk or high, either way, he wasn't all there. He snatched your phone. Just when you thought he was going to grab you, a black sports car, one you would have had to work two lifetimes to afford, stopped at the light. And before you know it, the man trying to get you is being dragged into the alley where he probably would have taken you. You remember being frozen, all you could hear was cursing and blunt force. The mystery man, whose car is still in the middle of the road, emerges from the dark corner between the buildings.

You were completely taken. The smile, the hair, the tattoos, and dangling earrings, paired with a striking gaze—he was an angel. He was so beautiful and he was just looking at you stand there with your mouth open.

"If there's one thing I hate, oh here you go," He hands you your phone and you get a nice look at his hand tattoo, "it's motherfuckers who can't leave women the fuck alone. Sorry you had to deal with that, but he won't be bothering you or anyone else after tonight, or use his hands again," He sighs, fixing his clothes a bit and wiping the blood from the corner of his lip, "are you okay?"

"Yeah, thank you," You slip the phone in your bomber jacket pockets, "not a lot of people would stop a stupid guy from bothering a girl they don't even know."

"Yeah, I'm Jungkook by the way," He introduces himself with a smile, situating his nice clothes, "do you- Um, did you need a ride? I'm not a creep I swear," He holds his hands up in surrender when you furrow your brows at the suggesting—great, now she thinks I'm a pervert.

"I didn't stop that guy as blackmail to get laid, I just-" He pauses to grapple for the right words, "I saw you just standing on the curb and I know it's not safe out here-"

"If it's not any trouble," You interrupt his rambling, "I live about 15 minutes away, I was gonna call a ride but if you don't mind, I'd appreciate it. My name is Y/n, by the way."

That night changed your life forever. It was the first time you had wanted to kiss a stranger, the first night you ever came close to a soulmate. He confesses to having seen you in the club, he was at the bar, refusing offers from every girl from the bartenders to cougars out on the town, at least that's what you always thought. In that little fifteen minutes, you got to know very little about him but you felt so comfortable sharing things about yourself when he asked. He dropped you off and said if you ever needed anything, to give him a call.

You never got to use the number because you ended up seeing him again. He showed up to your job, but he wasn't there for you, he was there for one of your money laundering and pill-popping associates. You were taking a break and for some reason, the break room was eerily empty. After you heard gunshots and the whole store went into chaos. You remember trying to leave and suddenly being swept away and into an outside electrical room apart of the building. You calmed down enough to realize that it was him but you were baffled.

"What're the odds that you would work at the same place as that bastard," He fiddles with the gun, tucking it to his side and flipping on the safety and pulling off his mask with a toothy grin, "do you remember me?"

"You?... Jungkook, how did you- Why are you-..." You make a small step back and swallow, scrambling to think of something to say. "Have you been following me like some creep?!"

"No! this is just a run-in by fate, I swear I didn't plan it. I'm not even supposed to still be here but I couldn't just leave, not without saying something to you."

"Okay...What do you want to say? I have to get back on the clock." You look him up and down, his all-black clothes and heavy boots intimidating but alluring in many ways.

"Wanna grab a coffee?"

For some reason, you said yes to the familiar stranger.

"Sure- I mean no! No, I can't Jungkook, I have to get back to work-"

"Trust me, just come with me," He extends his hand for you to take and smiles, "you won't regret it."

You took his hand and never looked back.

* * *

Nights like this.

When it's too early to ruin his life and too late to pretend like he wouldn't care. So when he shows up to the lounge to enforce an unpaid debt from a client, he leaves with bruised knuckles, two grand, and a rush of adrenaline. He went a little hard on the guy, but can you blame him? He messed up his plans. Tonight is date night, also known as 'crash at your place' night. It worked out though, you had to work late so he wouldn't be too tardy. Judging by the fact that you haven't answered your phone, you must be knocked out.

He slips his hand into his pocket and fumbles with his keys until he finds the one to your apartment. When he walks inside he hears the sink on and smiles to himself, you must've just woken up.

"Baby, it's me," He announces himself, "how was your day?"

"Fine," You step out in your work clothes, still trying to get your earrings out, "as fine as a day working for the devil could be."

"That bad?" You take note of the silk black shirt that's rolled up to his elbows, letting you see his beautiful sleeve of tattoos. When he comes dressed like this, and smelling like smoke you know he's been out into high-end clubs. The way some of the women look at him makes you feel small and a little self-conscious. But he always reassures you that you're who he wants, not some woman who sees him as an experimental one-night stand. When he tells you to meet him in the restroom because he needs to tell you something, you're reminded that you're all he wants.

"She screwed the schedule. My only day off was taken because her favorite, Kasey, has to go out of town."

He unbuttons the buttons on his shirt with deliberate fingers. "You walked out on a job for me before, remember that?" He smiles, letting his shirt fall from his shoulders like a dream. A bruise on his upper arm catches your attention but you don't say anything. "If you're not happy, just leave. I can take care of you, you can be my sugar baby."

"Yeah, my step-mom would love that, I could see it now," You cringe at the thought, "Hey, just a heads up, I'm not working or married but I have a sugar daddy who pays all my bills and lets me use his money for free, oh, he's also a drug lord. She'd really think highly of me then."

"Fuck Carol, she's a judgmental priss anyway," He comes up to you, hands finding your waist, "why do you care what she thinks about you?"

"I don't care what she thinks, but if she finds out she'll tell my dad and I don't want to hear it from him. If he pretends to not be disappointed by the lesser-twin one more time, I'll actually cuss him out...He's such a liar, he lied to my mom and he lies to me.”

"Quit saying that," Jungkook grabs you under your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist so he can sit on the edge of your bed, "you're not the lesser-twin, you're the cute and sexy twin." You sit back on his thighs and you both laugh at his attempt to lighten your mood.

"Well, I'm not a successful surgeon and I'm broke as hell, but at least my boyfriend thinks I'm cute." His hands find their way to the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head, revealing a disappointing tank top.

"See, this is disappointing. Why are you wearing a tank top? It's a hundred degrees outside." He sighs, looking up at you like a pouting little kid.

"Because I want to," You grin, brushing his hair from his brows, revealing a scratch, "you're cut."

"Yeah, had a run-in with an old friend, we're obviously not friends anymore."

"You should take me with you on these deals and stuff, I'd make a great bodyguard for you," You joke, "if you showed me how to use a gun."

"You?" He giggles at the image of you secretly acting as a bodyguard, a dagger, and a gun in a garter under a skintight dress. "That's not a bad idea, they'd be too distracted looking at how fucking beautiful you are to see you as a threat."

"Yeah, I always saw as the Bonnie & Clyde type of couple," He leans up to kiss you and you smile through it before he pulls away, "eh, you need to shower, you smell like weed."

He furrows his brows, a snarky smile on his mouth. "And you smell like French fries, but I still kissed you.”

"Touche." You can't argue with that, the French fries smell gets to you too.

He picks you up, carrying you to the bathroom with a beaming smile.

"Let's shower then."

* * *

A deal went bad, he got grazed by a bullet and spent a few hours at the emergency room.

When he pulled in to the driveway and saw your car, he sighed in relief—he was hoping you'd come. After work, you had come by earlier to clear your head and take a breather from your cramped apartment and rowdy neighbors. Ever since his 'new position' he was put up in this huge mansion, equipped with a full staff. Luckily, they were off tonight so no need to keep quiet.

It's getting late and you've been trying to watch a baking show to stay awake but it was getting difficult. He hadn't called or answered any of your calls or texts. When you hear the garage door open, your heavy lids lift and you yawn, trying to wake up so you can tell him how your day has been.

He opens the door with a deep sigh and he's glad you can't see the thick white bandage on his upper arm and tired shadows under his eyes because of the dim lights. "Jungkook, it's so late..." You mumble, sitting up. "what took you so long?"

"Yeah, baby, I just had a mix up with someone who owed the group a lot of money, they, uh- They opened fire and we had a lot to clean up." He offhandedly mentions that and goes to the bathroom to change and you just wait for him.

The painkiller is wearing off but he manages to brush his teeth and slip into some sweats and a t-shirt. After flicking the light switch off, he falls into bed with a heavy exhale. Glad to finally have him close so you can tell him about your terrible day, you turn to hug him, and instantly a wince of pain leaves his mouth.

"Sorry," You giggled, thinking he was just kidding until you see the bandage on his arm, "Oh my gosh," You sit up, hand reaching for his bandage with concern in your brows, "what happened?"

"It's nothing baby, I was grazed by a bullet and had to go to the ER," He spares you a weak grin, hand rustling through his damp locks, "but it's nothing, I feel fine."

It's always nothing to him. You lean down and place a gentle kiss on his forehead, one he would normally place on you. Nights go by and you know he's out there risking his life, not thinking how devastated you would be if one night he doesn't come back.

He caresses the apple of your cheek, lips parting when sits up to try to kiss you, but you pull away.

"Hey, I've had a long day I just want to kiss you," He sits up now, "talk to me."

"Talk to yourself, I'm going to sleep."

"Where the fuck is this coming from?" He glares at you, tone firmer than before. "Y/n, cut the crap. What's the problem?"

"Jungkook, there's no problem I just worry about you."

"I don't mean to make you worry," He speaks softly, "but you know this is what I do, I can't stop now, even if I wanted to."

"I know," Sadly, "but you're all I have."

He tilts his head, a bit confused. "What happened?"

"My sister called when I got off of work. My dad isn't doing well, his liver is in terrible condition and he needs a transplant...He's on a wait-list now."

Knowing the severed relationship you have with your family, he treads lightly when requesting this. "Do you want to go see him?-"

"No!" You snap. "Why would I want to see him? This is what he gets for killing my mother."

"Y/n, you don't mean that..." Jungkook gets uncomfortable when you enter that head-space, you become ruthless in your words and your eyes glaze over with something he has yet to understand.

"Why not? It's true. He was cheating on her, that's why he never came home and she thought something was wrong. So drove out in the middle of the night during a storm and ended up crashing into a tree, because of him. My sister has always defended him, but I think it's because she didn't like mom either...The two of them may have cried at the funeral but I know them, they were glad she left us. That's why I need you, Jungkook, I don't have them or want them..."

"Y/n, you have to learn to forgive them for whatever you think they did, it's going to drive you insane if you don't...Fuck them, spend your energy on us, okay?"

"I'm already insane, I'm with you, aren't I? You come close to being killed every week, and it bothers me to think you might not come home...But I'll go through that if it means I get to have you, I love you, I only love you..." You lay your head on his shoulder.

He’s your angel.

You aren’t sure what you are to him.

#jungkook scenario #bts drabble #jungkook drabble #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #Bts angst #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #jungkook mafia #jungkook hitman #bts hitman au #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #this wasn't supposed to be a murder mystery but idk #i was getting unhinged vibes #like the oc #shes a little crazy

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bringingglory · 3 years

Note

Hey bestie, for the fanfic ask thing I’ve got these for you: 🖊 (if you don’t have a snippet then just like describe a scene you’re excited for, and you know which fic I’m asking about lol) ✨ 🍰

aldkjfhasdf hey bestie, my love, my light, asjdfhlaskdjf thank u in so much for this ask <333

🖊 Post a snippet from a current WIP.

okay first of all, this whole scene feels so embarrassing bc its SO SAPPY. like, i would have posted a more comedic scene, but all the funny college crack shenanigan scenes are very unpolished rn so uhhhhh have gross sappy corny scene instead alkdjsfhasdlk while this scene is slightly less unpolished than my other scenes, it is still subject to change bc, yknow, rough drafts

“Iwa-chan!”

Hajime spun around to see Tooru sprinting towards him from the baggage claim.

A breathless laugh bubbled out of his chest. “Oika—”

Tooru dropped his luggage handle and threw his arms around Hajime’s neck.

Hajime let out an oof before he caught Tooru and wrapped him in a hug.

“Iwa-chan,” he breathed. “I’m in California!”

“Yeah, you are,” laughed Hajime. “I can’t believe you’re actually here.”

The smell of Tooru was overwhelming. He smelled like the stale recycled airplane air that came from a fourteen hour flight, but he thought he could smell the beach sand on him. Tooru was tanner than when Hajime had last seen him, and he could see the faintest freckles dotting the back of his neck, and even though his hair had turned a lighter brown from the sun, his shampoo still smelled the same.

Standing in the middle of the airport pressed chest to chest with Tooru was addicting, but Hajime was afraid that if he didn’t pull away soon, he wouldn’t pull away ever. But when he tried to take a step back, Tooru tightened his arms.

Hajime froze. “Uh, Oikawa—”

“Be nice to me,” Tooru mumbled into his neck. “I missed you.”

Ohhh, this was so bad for his heart.

He hesitated for a moment before tightening his arms again. “I missed you, too.”

He could feel Tooru’s smile spreading across the skin of his neck and his heart stumbled in his chest. Hajime let them stay like that for another second before he pulled away.

“Okay, let me go now,” he said. “We should stop blocking the way.”

“Fiiiine.” Tooru pulled away with a dramatic sigh.

✨ Choose three adjectives to complement your own writing.

sdfhalskdjfa feels weird saying positive things about urself bc im terrified of sounding arrogant but uhhhh alkdjfhaldskfdsalfjsdflkjhdalksjfhalksjdfhlkads okay

1. comedic - or at least i try really hard to be. i really try to put humor in a lot of my fics bc i don't want to make stuff *too* serious or dramatic, plus i think having light-hearted moments makes the serious moments hit a little harder. or at least i hope they do akljdsfhlaksd

2. conversational - idk if this is a good adjective? but it's a thing that i kind of strive to make my prose to be. like, ever since i read the wings of fire series in 7th grade, i've noticed that the prose itself is conversational or it has a v specific voice (i dont mean like character voice, but that counts too) and i really liked that so even though i write p much exclusively in 3rd person, i always try to make the prose a bit conversational, if that makes sense (not that 3rd person is commonly voiceless, but like u tend to get more voice in 1st person stuff). god i hope i dont sound like an asshole aldkjfhasdkl

3. poetic - this is a VERY recent thing and also my writing isn't always poetic, BUT every since that One Summer Day last august where i decided to learn how to write poetry, i have learned to write more poetically and sometimes it shows in my writing via the convoluted metaphors i come up with alkdjfhasd. ofc my writing isn't always poetic, so im just saying that this is v much a sometimes thing. and uhhhhh, i also literally cant come up with any other adjectives lol

🍰 Name one of your fave comfort fics (doesn’t have to be your all time fave).

THIS ONE OH MY GOD

so this is a super cute solangelo fic and who doesnt love solangelo BUT the part of this fic that makes it a comfort fic for me is all of the FRIENDSHIP and the HUMOR.

so a quick summary of this fic is that nico di angelo gets stuck in a time loop bc of aphrodite, and he can't get out of it until he figures out his "love troubles." she catches him when nico's trying to run away (he's running away bc will "rejected" him).

and so there's a lot of cute stuff about love and realizing people care about you and family and helping people and also it's just funny, like the scenes with hades and nico were p funny. it's overall just a fun romp and a light-hearted story and i just love it so. so much. i reread it when i feel sadboyhours or something bc i genuinely just love the friendship and everything about it.

once again, eye of my apple, life of my light, thank u so much for the ask bestie <333

ask game

#asks #ask game #spiraling-galaxy #my writing #ksdflkajsdfh feelin uneasy about the 2nd ask lads #feels weird describing my own writing in a way that is intentionally positive #rlly hope i dont sound arrogant lol #i tried to make it more like 'things i try to do' instead of 'this is exactly how my writing is'#idk no rambling tags silly fool #akljsdfalkdsf #yes thank u for the ask <5

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thebluestbluewords · 3 years

Text

I haven't watched D2 in almost a year please forgive me

This is 1800 words of NONSENSE about PIRATES except there's actually no named pirates appearing in this section yet.

He’d been taking a walk.

The isle isn’t safe, obviously. It’s a prison colony, full of the worst of the worst, shaken up and left to stew in their own anger and his family’s incompetence for twenty years. Of course it’s not going to be a safe place for little Auradon boys to linger.

He’d gone less than a block. Hadn’t been planning on going any further. It’s an emotional whiplash, going from being upset because his girlfriend is secretly using magic to cope with Auradon life instead of just talking to him about it, to breaking up because she’s decided she can’t cope with life outside of the place she grew up.

It’s oversimplifying. There’s a lot more to it than just not being able to cope, but it’s hard to see that through the sheer hurt that’s stuck in Ben’s chest. They’d been doing well, until all of sudden they weren’t, and there was no time in between to try and fix things. Always jumping to the most extreme solution, that’s Mal. And it’s something he likes about her, usually! She’s got wild solutions for things, and she’s able to come up with the most outrageous ideas and play them off like they’re absolutely nothing, and she--

Doesn’t want to live in the same country as him anymore.

Yeah.

So that sucks.

Bringing Mal back home is more important than whatever concerns he’s got about their romantic future together.. No matter what’s going on emotionally, it’s still not right to leave her alone back on the island that they just brought her over from. There’s garbage burning in the streets here! The food stalls all have signs about limited supplies and taking what you can get, and the amount of knives and weapons on the average person walking down the street here isn’t exactly unexpected, but it’s just… it’s a lot. It’s not like he’s completely unaware of his surroundings! On the isle of villains, it’s important to stay alert. He gets that. It’s just that emotional turmoil, combined with the little fact that he’s all of sixteen and he’s pretty sure his heart is breaking, might be distracting him. Just a little bit.

Nobody ever expects to be grabbed by a giant guy and yanked into an alley, okay?

“Urg?” Ben manages to say, around the hand that’s being clamped over his mouth. “Eahhh?”

“Don't talk,” the mystery voice behind him directs. It’s not the person who’s holding him, so that’s bad. Being outnumbered is bad. “We’re taking you to see our captain, and if you run we have instructions to make that...significantly more difficult for you.”

Ben nods. There’s something tapping threateningly at his kneecaps, and he’s pretty sure he knows what the voice means by making it harder to run. He’s broken a bone once, when he was a kid and tried to climb the tree in his mom’s favorite glade, and fell out. If riding back to the castle with a broken arm had hurt, he doesn’t even want to imagine what being dragged along by a villain with a broken leg might feel like.

“Good,” the voice says, like it’s funny. Oh. They don’t use that word here, so it’s a joke about him. “We’d like to bring you back in one piece, your highness, so just keep cooperating and maybe this won’t go so bad for you after all.”

“Mmh” Ben agrees. He’s sort of afraid to nod, in case the arm around his throat tries to squeeze any harder, but it feels like a good move to go along with whatever this pair wants. Oh god. Hopefully it’s just the two of them, and then whatever captain they’re bringing him to.

There’s definitely more than just the two of them.

Oh no.

The big guy, or maybe a girl, actually, it’s sort of impossible to tell with the way he’s just being held against some very large and solid person, starts to tie his hands behind his back.

Okay, there’s the panic now.

Ben wants out, he wants his hands, he wants to breathe, he’s-- okay, hyperventilating doesn’t help anything. He’s been taught how to break out of hand ties, but it’s not going to help if there’s another person right there, and they’ve already said to cooperate, so--

Breathe.

“Should we just drug him?” someone is saying. “Might be faster than all of this tying and blindfolding business.”

“I dunno if I can carry this much deadweight, bro.” another voice says. Still not the person holding him still. So there’s at least three of them, great. “He’s pretty big for a prince charming.”

“I can carry ‘im” says a new voice, and oh, this is the person holding him, finally. There might be just the three of them. Not that it makes much of a difference, but it’s some sort of knowledge that Ben can cling to here. “Get his hands and feet, and I can do it.”

“‘on’t enfg.” Ben manages, around the hand that’s still clamped over his mouth. “omise.”

“Gil, just let him talk,” the first voice says again. “He’s obviously not going to stop trying, so just, give him a little air.”

“‘Kay,” the holding-person (Gil, the big one is Gil) says agreeably. “Hey, I wasn’t holding you too tight, was I? You can still breathe, and stuff?”

“I can breathe,” Ben says, once he’s gotten in a good lungful of air that doesn’t taste like stale sweat. “I won’t try anything, I swear.”

“Ooh, he swore,” says the bro voice, clearly delighted with this turn of events. “I think we might need a little insurance for that, little prince.”

There’s some sort of motion, and then a noise that sounds an awful lot like a knife being sharpened, and then a bright, sharp pain in Ben’s side.

“Hey!” the first voice says, clearly annoyed at this turn of events. “You didn’t have to stab him! Uma wanted him brought back in one piece!”

“He won’t be able to run this way,” the bro says, sounding annoyed. “It’s not gonna hurt him, just make it harder to run. It’s barely a scratch.”

“He’s bleeding. You’re gonna leave evidence.” the first one, who seems to be the brains of the operation, says. “Hey, no, don’t make that noise. Shut up. Look when you did!”

Ben doesn’t want to be making this noise either. He’s just as unhappy as the ringleader is about this, really. He didn’t want to get stabbed.

“Oh my evil, just pick him up, Gil.” the first person says. “Hey, prince charming. We’ll get you stitched up once you’re down at the ship, okay? Just like, shut up about it. You’ll be in worse shape if we drop you here for someone else to find, and they won’t be so nice about keeping you alive either.”

It hurts. Jesus fucking christ, it hurts. “You stabbed me?” Ben somehow warbles, between the fucking agonized breathing he’s doing to try and get the involuntary pain noises under control. “You fucking- stabbed me?”

He’s being lifted off his feet now, and cradled up like a baby against somebody’s broad chest.

“Just a little bit.” the bro-voice says as they start moving. “Insurance, bro. Can’t have you getting away from us now, ya know?”

“I just said I wouldn’t run.” Ben points out, gritting his teeth against another jolt as the person carrying him picks up speed. “I wouldn’t’ve lied about that if I knew you were going to stab me.”

“Get over it.” the brains of the kidnapping says. “Drop him in the cart Gil, we can just wheel him down the rest of the way.”

They tie him to the mast.

“Can I take my phone out of my pocket first?” Ben asks, as they’re pinning him down to tie him up again, more efficiently this time. “It’s going to leave a bruise if I keep it there, and I don’t care if you want to break it or sell it or anything.”

The pirates find this absolutely hysterical.

They do let him take his phone out of his pocket first, so that’s something.

Being kidnapped is sort of boring, when it comes down to it. The pirates are clealty waiting for something, but it’s not entirely clear what. True to their word from earlier, they do let someone (a girl with messy black hair and a bright red bandanna, who doesn’t seem especially fazed by the situation as a whole) slap a bandage on him. It’s not quite as good as not being stabbed in the first place would have been, but the girl had poked around for a while and announced that he didn’t need stitches, and then done what seems on the whole to be a very tidy job of cleaning and wrapping the cut.

It still hurts, because some lunatic with a knife did in fact stab him, but after the morning Ben’s had so far, things are honestly looking up.

One of the pirates sits down next to him.

“Want some water?” they ask, holding out a battered plastic cup.

Huh. “Um, sure?” Ben says.

The pirate tips it up to his mouth, and lets him get in a good three or four swallows before pulling the cup back and throwing the rest over his head.

“Uma’s still out.” they inform him. “But we’ve sent a runner down to the chip shop, so she should be coming up any minute now.”

“Uh. Okay.” Ben says. “Is that your captain?”

The pirate looks at him. “Yeah,” they say. “She is.”

There’s some sort of challenge there, but Ben is so far out of his depth right now that he can’t even make out what the shape of it might be. “Does she have demands, or something?” he asks. “I can’t guarantee that they’ll be met, but if you send a message out to my father he’ll probably give you something in exchange.”

The pirates stares up at him, shaking their head slowly. “Unbelievable,” the pirate says, “Fuckin’ Auradon kids. Do they really keep you stupid on purpose over there?”

“No?” Ben tries. “I can try to bargain for whatever you want. There’s some privateering work off the southern isles right now, and I don’t know that they’ll take kids on their own, but we’ve been working towards isle reform policies and there’s a pretty good chance they’ll go through in a few years and--” Shut up, the lunatics who kidnapped (kingnapped?) you don’t care about legitimate privateering work and the slow, torturous process that’s been trying to push isle reforms through the council while still only controlling about 40% of the vote. “Um, that is, we can meet your demands.” Ben finishes. “If you have them.”

The kid shakes their head again. “Unbelievable.” they say again, and leave.

Okay, then.

#my fic #descendants fanfiction #descendants fandom #I set out this morning to try and write some confusingly sexy kidnapping fic and I don't think this is quite what I was aiming for

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deathflares · 4 years

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» ffxivwrite day #22 — argy-bargy

wolexarch, very briefly hinted thanuri, 930 words, T.

note: this is an immediate sequel to matter of fact, and though it can be read as a standalone, you may want to read that one for context.

[ao3 mirror]

"Cussing, angry Shiori is usually eight drinks Shiori,” says Alphinaud, “but this… particular type is one I'm not yet familiar with, I'm afraid."

"How do you know this," Alisaie asks. Alphinaud's expression immediately goes vacant, the look in his eyes not unlike what G'raha has seen in soldiers after actual wars. He doesn't answer. Alisaie doesn't ask again.

The party has mostly dispersed by the time the children leave G’raha alone, now with some extra braids in his hair and a flower crown over his head that he feels is mildly embarrassing but can’t really bring himself to remove either way. He sits by one of the furthermost tables in the area that Shiori had retired to and now all the Scions are lounging about and nurses his stale, lukewarm glass of wine, feeling too tipsy to care.

Shiori and Thancred are still dancing—or not so much dancing as they’re flailing about and laughing like children, which is pretty amusing to watch, if a little uncharacteristic. He buries the part of him that feels jealous, seals it in a box and ships the box off to the Empty, then lets himself just sit there and enjoy the atmosphere. Peace, at last—what an odd thought it is. For so long he had pictured this day, but never had he dared to imagine he would live to see it. Yet here he stands, alive and well, the Sin Eaters gone and the Eight Umbral Calamity prevented, dwelling in dangerous thoughts of maybe, maybe being free to do what he truly wants to do, from now on.

So absorbed in such thoughts, he fails to notice an approaching, drunk menace, thoughts coming to a halt only when she’s already standing—or rather, wobbling—right in front of him.

“Exarrrch,” she slurs.

G’raha blinks. It takes that exact amount of time for her to throw herself into his lap, hands gripping the collar of his robes. Her cheeks are flushed and her breath smells like ale and by the gods she’s too close. G’raha’s hands automatically land on her hips to catch her, mind going blank.

“M… My friend—”

“G’raha Tia,” she says, “you,” jabs a finger on his chest, “are a fucking idiot.”

“Uh,” G’raha answers eloquently. Somewhere behind them, Thancred laughs. Alisaie eyes them with an expression that can only be described as disgust, and takes a very long chug of her ale.

“I can’t believe you were going to—get yourself killed for my sake,” she mutters, “that you dared hide yourself from me and pretend you didn’t know what I was talking about when I asked about you, right to your face—”

He swallows. “I truly am s—”

“Shut up,” she growls, “I’m not done.”

G’raha looks around for someone, anyone who might help him in this time of need, but the Scions are either watching with barely concealed amusement (Y’shtola, Urianger), definitely not concealed amusement (Thancred), barely concealed horror (Alisaie, Ryne), or quiet resignation (Alphinaud). G’raha accepts his fate.

“You think you’re so smart, with your schemes and your half-truths and—” she pulls at his hood, bringing his head dangerously close to her chest which, okay, “your stupid cowl? If you had actually died I swear to all the gods I would have found a way to bring you back so I could kill you myself—”

Shiori proceeds to yell at him for several minutes, and G’raha sits in silence as she tells him in about sixty-three different ways how much of an idiot he is. Briefly, a part of him wonders if he actually enjoys being berated like this—which, granted, might be a bit of a dangerous thought to have when her hips are hovering so close to his loins.

“And that one time back in Mor Dhona when you got that disgusting slime all over my robes because you decided to go off by yourself and fight two morbols at once and I had to go rescue you, you im—imbe—”

“Imbecile,” G’raha suggests.

“You imbecile—”

Ryne fidgets, looking equal parts amazed and terrified. “Um,” she says, “is she—usually like this? When she’s drunk?”

"Cussing, angry Shiori is usually eight drinks Shiori,” says Alphinaud, “but this… particular type is one I'm not yet familiar with, I'm afraid."

“I do believe someone ought to give our friend some respite,” Y’shtola says, though she makes no move to do so herself. “I’d say he has suffered quite enough.”

Shiori turns. “And you,” she snarls, pointing at Urianger, “if you lie to me again, I swear I’ll make your arse as flat as those cards of yours, Thancred’s laments be damned—”

“Alright,” says Thancred, suddenly very intent on getting Shiori to stop talking, “I think that’s quite enough, my friend.”

“No,” Shiori says, still comfortably sat on G’raha’s lap, “I have words for all of you—except you, Ryne, you’re an angel and I love you—”

“I… have to agree, my friend,” Alphinaud interjects, “that’s enough argy-bargy for one day, I’d say.”

“What the fuck is argy-bargy, Alphinaud,” Shiori deadpans. Alisaie cackles.

She does, eventually, get off his lap, after a couple minutes of insistence from the twins and some stumbling. He sighs and drinks what remains of his wine in a single gulp when she does.

“Feeling alright?” Thancred asks, moving to sit next to G’raha and offering his own half-full bottle of wine to him.

“I’ve been better,” G’raha answers, pouring himself a new glass.

Thancred laughs. “Don’t you worry, my friend,” he says. “There’s plenty more of that, ah, fire in her. I’m sure you’ll be able to coax it out eventually.”

Thancred leaves then, still laughing, leaving G’raha to choke on his wine and wonder why the gods have chosen to torment him so.

#final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #final fantasy 14 #ff14 #ffxivwrite2020 #my writing #this was a good prompt lmao

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rosaline-kei · 4 years

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Mistletoe

Disclaimer: I do not own Shinegki no Kyojin / Attack on Titan, nor its characters.

Fandom: Shinegki no Kyojin / Attack on Titan

Type: One-Shot

Synopsis: Armin, Eren, Mikasa were about to give their gifts to their captain until… they heard a certain shorty's name, accompanied with the words, "You got to KISS under the mistletoe!"

Rated: T

Pairings : very very very minor Levi Ackerman / Hanji Zoe

Read it also on / Leave a Review at:

Ao3 or FF net

Author’s Note: SIGH IM SO LATE ITS NOT EVEN CHRISTMAS HERE WHERE IM FROM ANYMORE SMH IM SO DISAPPOINTED IN MYSELF KHJJuuha anyways, happy late holidays and merry late christmas. I wrote this two years ago on ff net so its cringe. And my lazy ass isn’t in the mood to correct minor mistakes in this fanfic sigh fml. anyway enjoy and im sorry for this cringe

It was that time of the year again. Christmas. Most soldiers had the day off and went back home to visit their families and celebrate Christmas with presents and cookies. Joy and laugher, and so on. But, those who had lost their families had nowhere to go, did they? Thus, remaining on duty. A cruel truth, but it wasn't that bad spending it with their comrades, especially a certain group of three close friends.

"Eh… why do we have to this again?" Mikasa groaned.

"Because it's Captain Levi's birthday! And Christmas. And you already got him a gift, and we have the job of delivering the others' gift since they were 'too scared' of Levi… he isn't always pissed off." Eren sighed shaking his head while Mikasa only rolled her eyes, "I got him a gag disguise, Eren." Mikasa spoke, not really spoiling her gift considering she didn't bother wrapping it.

"And why did you get that for him again…?" The blonde asked, who accompanied the two since he had nothing else to do, plus he got him a chess set, seeing that he might as well get him something out of respect. "Well…" Mikasa mumbled, flashbacking to the day where Levi and her had a squabble about Eren's safety and treatment since he was a titan shifter, and it somehow ended with the words, 'you can make me wear a gag disguise and that brat would still listen, obey my orders and be afraid of me.'

"I question that, at myself too." Mikasa sighed quietly whereas Eren shook his head in response. "He obviously won't like whatever all of you got for him, he likes cleaning supplies!"

"And you got him..." Armin trailed off as he saw Eren's nod, before he responded, "Yep, cleaning supplies… anyways let's just drop the gifts and go to the cafeteria, I heard they aren't giving out stale bread today." Eren shrugged as the two agreed.

Once they reached Levi's office, they were about to knock on the door until, they heard a loud, over-enthusiastic voice emitting from his room, which was of course, Hanji. "C'mon Levi!" She pleaded. "But Levi… You got to KISS under the mistletoe! It's the rules!" Hanji exclaimed which caused the three to halt in their actions, looking at each other, confused.

"Did you hear that…?" Mikasa whispered, sounding both curious and extremely puzzled at the fact Levi, THE LEVI, who was a grumpy shorty, was about to kiss someone.

"Y-Yeah…" Armin stuttered. "We should go… what if it's Captain Hanji who's going to kiss him…? Let's not bother them…" Armin spoke, not wanting to get in trouble, especially on Christmas.

"Wait no. I have to see this." Eren spoke as he peeked through the small crack through the slightly opened door. "But Eren, Hanji sounds drunk… what if they… uh—"

"Shh, Hanji's always drunk! Now let's listen." Eren spoke as he shifted a little for the two to have space to press their ears against the closed door to listen to their rather intriguing conversation.

"Well… I mean, it is definitely is something interesting…" Mikasa admitted as she shifted, listening to them as well. Armin sighing, finally giving in to mostly curiosity, as he started to listen too.

"Hanji. The first thing I see when I arrive is you drinking alcohol in MY office? What kind of crappy joke is this?" Levi grumbled rolling his eyes. "And Kiss? You must be crazy if I'm going to kiss anything as filthy as that." Levi added as Hanji groaned.

"It's not all that filthy!" Hanji pouted as she poured a glass for Levi. "Let's drink birthday boy!" Hanji exclaimed almost too loudly, giving him the, 'I know you want it' look before Levi clicked his tongue as he took the glass from her as he started chugging it down his throat.

"I knew you wanted it."

"Shut up."

"If you kiss then sure." Hanji smirked. "I know you'd definitely want to go further after…"

"…How many glasses did you drink?" Levi asked, raising a brow.

"… fifteen…" Hanji hiccuped.

"Wait, so Captain Hanji and Levi are a couple?" Eren spoke, sounding rather shock at such a couple combination.

"Well, I mean Levi and Hanji have been meeting quite often, or so I've heard…"

"I thought it was to discuss paperwork..?" Mikasa retorted, reusing to believe that Hanji's taste in men was so low, like Levi's height. "And Levi's personality is kind of…"

"Captain Levi isn't that bad Mikasa!" Eren said rolling his eyes. "But… even for Hanji's standard… I thought she was into crazy men?"

"Well… opposites attract…" Armin shrugged.

"Shh… they're talking." Mikasa hushed the two.

"Hanji. I'm not doing it." Levi snapped as he chugged down another shot, still sober as always.

"Pleaseeeeee Birthday boy!" Hanji begged again.

"Don't call me that, it's weird." Levi grumbled.

"Hmmm? Is Levi in a bad mood?" Hanji asked chuckling.

"I'm always in a bad mood for f—"

"Yeah but you look like you're in a worse mood… because your precious brats didn't get you anything even though you just went gift-giving a couple moments ago?" Hanji chuckled, knowing he went out and bought them gifts which he personally went and placed them in their own rooms, but of course, respecting their privacy by not touching anything at all. He just placed it there and left. Levi clicked his tongue. "Shut up. They worked their asses off, it's just stuff on sale." Levi retorted, though Hanji knew he was probably still sad they got him nothing, especially when Hanji found his new squad had a rather peculiar but somewhat close bond. "There, There…" Hanji sighed as she took another shot as she patted Levi's back in a comforting manner. "Well. Either way… You're still going to kiss under the mistletoe. If you aren't going to, I'll—"

"Achoo!" A certain blonde sneezed.

"Shit." Eren cursed as Mikasa quickly hurried up to her feet signalling the two to do the same as she heard footsteps nearing the door.

Almost in a blink of an eye, the door opened as the brunette and blonde quickly got onto their feet.

"And what do you three want?" Levi grumbled, still in a bad mood. "I already have my own problems, and you three eavesdropping isn't going to do shit for me and—"

"We, uh, got you gifts." Eren spoke as he held out wrapped up presents that were from him and the other squad members, Armin and Mikasa doing the same as Levi's eyes widened. "Oh." He said simply before taking them. "Say thank you!" Hanji yelled to him from the inside as Levi clicked his tongue agitatedly as he glared at Hanji for a second before turning his focus back to the three. "Thank you… I didn't expect you guys to—"

"Neither did we, we overheard your conversation about your gift-giving." Mikasa interrupted as she handed him the gag disguise she got, Levi blinking at her gift, not knowing she'd have taken his statement that seriously, and was about to make one of his sarcastic comments until he smelt detergent. "Is that detergent…?" He asked as Eren nodded almost too cheerfully. "I know you like cleaning and—"

"I do, but detergent? Really? Who gets a gag disguise and detergent for a gift?" Levi spoke as he eyed the blonde who tensed up. "I uh— got you a chess set…" Armin spoke, assuming he wanted to know what he got.

"Well, at least someone has a normal mind here." Levi sighed before looking up at the three. The three expecting a lecture but instead they were greeted by a smile, which shocked them. "Thank you, really…" Levi mumbled quietly as Hanji chuckled softly as she watched the whole thing. "You guys are dismissed now, I'm sure you have better things to do." Levi spoke, not wanting to waste their time anymore, assuming they had plans.

"Wait." Armin spoke as Eren continued. "We were wondering… are you and Captain Hanji together?" He asked as Levi tilted his head as he let out a, 'huh?'

"Well, we heard about you having to kiss her under the mistletoe—"

"What? No. That idiot threw a broom at me when I walked into the office and asked me to kiss it since I was standing under that mistletoe thing with it that she had set up." Levi sighed, explaining it to them thoroughly, not wanting them to have any misconceptions.

"Oh…" The three spoke in sync as Levi made a 'tch' sound before turning around. "Now go away, before I report to the superiors that you eavesdropped a Captain." Levi threatened as they nodded before walking off, not wanting to run a hundred laps or something in the snow. "Thank you for your gift though!" The three exclaimed their thanks in advance, and wished him a happy birthday as well before they left wondering what he got them.

"You love them and you know it." Hanji chuckled softly as Levi rolled his eyes before sitting back down as he poured another shot for the two. "Shut up and drink, before I make you kiss the broom instead." Levi grumbled, hoping the three wouldn't come up with any rumours about him kissing a broom, if they did, he was sure to make them run a hundred laps during the next Christmas.

But he was thankful, thankful for his own reasons.

But if he had to be honest, he kind of enjoyed Christmas and his birthday today.

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lgchunji · 4 years

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✧ .・゜゜trainee mission 004, rap performance; i hate performing

no one will even remember you. you’re going to be great! well, did you practice hard? you’re already the bestest!!! what if they laugh at you? agh. . . hunji took a deep breath. he felt his stomach turn over, like after a meal meant for two being swallowed all at once. he could not pay attention to the other performers. he could not pay attention to anyone at all. the room spun. his head spun. hunji took a deep breath. he wobbled whilst sitting down. his insides all spun and spun and spun. his head rolled around to whatever rhythm was around him. it spun. he spun. he felt something coming up in his throat-

“chwe hunji?” he looked up. he gagged. his eyes were wide. he swallowed what was in his cheeks and nodded. he slowly stood up like newborn giraffe. in the silence of the room, he bent down, with vascular, shaky hands, grabbed his water, and sipped. just a little sip to get the acid out from his mouth. his stomach churned sour milk. he swore he had not eaten all day. why was it acting up? “chwe hunji, with haste.” they asked. hunji nodded. he could feel himself panting. sweat beaded on his head. he took to the middle of the room. a microphone, and a stand, perfectly at his height. his knees, beneath his layers of clothes, wobbled with his head. for weeks he had been preparing. since he heard he would be performing, he worked hard day in and day out. the song, streetlight, was second nature to him now. he sang it in the car, on his jog, and in his sleep. he rapped. he sang. he mastered the music. at one point, it had become so easy, he made a quick remix of the chorus to keep his brain entertained. he wore what he always did. his brown shoes, his dark blue jeans, his white button-up, a brown vest over it, and an orange-brown jacket on top. the shoes gave him an extra inch of height. the jacket was only a few inches from the ground but was left unbuttoned. his round, brown glasses truly made him look like a grandpa. he even had a scarf earlier in the day that was orange and brown plaid. he had to remove it as to not choke on his own vomit. he was mentally prepared. he was physically comfortable. why did his stomach churn? why did it squeeze? it felt like a heart, pumping in and out in and out, swishing his insides to and fro. he could feel something rising. the song began. he could hear the cracks. the little aches, the little sounds of the music. he swallowed. he put his head down. his forehead touched the mic. he closed his eyes. how could he bare anything when everyone was looking? hunji took a deep breath. “like a streetlight.” it was the first time he ever sang in front of anyone- “like a streetlight.” -except his mother and sisters. “after the end of a lonely day, “standing vacantly. . . a deep breath. “in the middle of the lonely night, “and try to smile brightly.” he gently held the mic with two hands. everyone else puffed into ash. he only heard music. his eyes were shut tight. tight, tighter, until they stuck themselves in that position. his voice warmly embraced all who heard it. his voice was slow, melodic, and full. it was so full. it was so, so full. it was his song. it would carry him. he squeezed the mic. his eyelids began to peel apart from one another. he looked ahead. where had the judges gone? there were empty seats around him. he leaned in closer he dropped one hand from the mic. “i don’t want anyone to see how incredibly weak i am. “to the people who relied on me, that’s a contradiction. “acting strong, acting like i’m not hurting, acting like nothing is wrong, “i just wanted to be someone else’s strength. “i cant be the reason that they lose strength.” i can’t be the reason that mom died. “i don’t have the courage to make 'you can reply on me' the other way around,” because then who would she have? “the pain silently grows locked in a room in my heart without a way out.” he gasped for air. he threw his hands down and scorched all before him with a fire in his eyes. “when you hold it in as much as you can you grow numb to it, “i guess i can still take more because i can still hold it back.” his neck and ears were pink. “a bandaid over a wound will always fall “i put this on in a rush but it really fell off quickly.” he gestured to his head. “the rain water pools on top of this worn roof,” he slid his hands down his front. “and it knows me all too well, slipping in through all the cracks,” he grabbed and yanked his own hair, one hand on the mic. “i need someone before i collapse.” the desperation in his voice rose, “ask me again if i’m okay, please, anybody-.” he ripped the mic from the stand and stepped aside. he hardly sang but cried for help, he looked a judge in the eyes, “like a streetlight,” he hit himself in the heart as hard as he could. me, me, me. “like a streetlight,” he moved to the trainees on his left, “in the middle of the lonely night, i still just look bright.” then the ones in the back, “at the end of a lonely day, “ and the kids along the right, “standing vacantly. . .” he stood up straight and his nose became red. he slowly turned to the judges. he stood on the other beside of the mic stand once more. “in the middle of the lonely night, i try my best to smile brightly.” his lips frowned. were they even listening? can you even hear me? he lunged forward, “unable to rely on anything, “i chose to only rely on myself, “by now that i’m shaking, “who can i even hold on to for support?" he gasped like he was drowning. “in front of the shoulders i’d rested my hands on, “my shoulders are now drooping even further, but,” he grabbed his hair. he spun away from the judges, “who cares?" “i cant let it out, he begged the trainees to listen, “i cant let it all out,” why weren’t they moving? “and the pain i couldn't let out starts blaming me,” was no one hearing him? “when i keep breathing this,” his hand shot to the sky and he sang to god. no one else was listening. “-stale air, it goes beyond being unconformable and im left gasping for air,” his entire being drooped to earth. “i end up bothered by things that shouldn't matter,” “and they end up mattering even though they shouldn't.” he turned to the judges. where else was there to go? “even though peoples eyes aren’t on me their gazes sting,” “thinking they might keep watch and see the expression ive kept hidden slip out,” a true, honest, look at the trainees beside him. he stared. “im afraid, yeah, im afraid.” he stood straight. his head stared forward but his eyes fearfully shut. he shook his head. he looked down as his back-up, pre-recorded self took his place. why am i even doing this? why am i here? mom’s gone. the girls are fine. no one likes me. i don’t like anyone. i hate performing. i HATE performing. i’ll never debut and i’ll never make money and i’ll never be happy but isn’t that just life. . . it’s my turn. “like a streetlight,” no one listens. “like a streetlight,” and it’s okay. “in the middle of the lonely night, i still just look bright,” he looked up. he opened his eyes. the pre-recorded vocals joined him. because someone has to listen. someone will know. someone has to know. “at the end of a lonely day,” his voice rose. “standing vacantly. . .“ can someone hear? “in the middle of the lonely night, “i try my best to smile brightly.” it’s okay, hunji, i can hear you. you’re doing amazing. is there anything you want to talk about? hunji’s eyes welled up. his face reddened and he scrunched his nose. “like a streetlight, “like a streetlight, “in the middle of the lonely night, i still just look bright “at the end of a lonely day, “standing vacantly. . . “in the middle of the lonely night “i try my best to smile brightly.” he moved around the room, begging someone to listen. there were clear streams running from his eyes. his lips were already puffy. his voice was still smooth. he shouted with the song, as he rehearsed, but it was so, so, fully different. he shouted accusations to the world. to an empty corner of the room, where no one could turn away, he begged, “like a streetlight, “like a streetlight, “in the middle of the lonely night, i still just look bright “at the end of a lonely day, “standing vacantly. . .” a weep. “in the middle of the lonely night “i try my best to smile brightly!” and with a frown on his face, sweat in his hair, and his organs depressed, the song came to an end. he took a deep breath. his eyebrows furrowed. his eyes drilled into the piles of ash that slowly rose to form humans again. he was angry enough to scream and those who held the future in his hands and he did not at all care. he turned to them. a small applaud came from the other kids. it was much quieter than the other claps other trainees got. he half-bowed, eyeing all those in charge. image be damned, he had something to say. he would never regret his performance. “thanks.” he put the mic back. he took his seat. his stomach was too exhausted to move. everyone knew everything; what was there to toss and turn over?

word count (not including lyrics): 1,192 word count (including lyrics): 1,702 points: +6 lyrics, +3 notoriety

#puke //#✧ .・゜゜solo #lgc:traineemission #✧ .・゜゜events #( why did i do the performance first???? uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh )

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anastasiaskarsgard · 5 years

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TO THE ANON THAT ASKED FOR A SMUTTY CHEATER BILL STORY HERE YA GO. I INITIALLY DELETED THE REQUEST BECAUSE I DONT CONDONE CHEATING BUT THEN I THOUGHT, ITS FAN FICTION. NO ONE TAKES IT SERIOUSLY AND IVE GOTTEN A FEW REQUESTS FOR THIS SO HERE YA GO.

Here’s part 1: https://anastasiaskarsgard.tumblr.com/post/188138288236/this-is-a-really-involved-request-so-im-breaking

And here is PART 2

Warning!!! Smut 18+ mature content.

As we pulled into the parking lot, everything hit me at once. I had literally witnessed my dog get murdered, the man I thought was perfect was Satan himself, I have no belongings, I don’t know anyone but Randi here. But then I remembered all the good like I was free, I’m not dead, I have the best friend in the whole world, I already found a job and got paid a lot for basically getting to be near the hottest guy ever and there’s photographic evidence, and literally the world is my oyster. I even get to go to Canada! Hayden Christensen lives there! I look over at Randi and can’t help but laugh when I see her sassy face. She is not a fan of feeling sorry for yourself. “Sorry, I’ll stop. They’re happy tears! I swear! I’m so happy I have you, and we’re going on this adventure. I’m just grateful.”

“Wow. Don’t cry Bitch. You’ll fuck up your make up.” my best friend joked.

I chuckled, and gave her a hug, then stood straight out of the car and let her lead the way to see if everyone had gotten a table together in Mortons.

We found everyone taking their seats. I took the closest open seat next to the photographer and Randi sat between Andy and Bill across from us. I didn’t want to look at Bill and have Randi give me shit, so I read the entire menu like 3 times to avoid looking up. We all ordered, and then Andy had the idea for everyone to introduce themselves:

“Ok since everyone is from all over the place, let’s do a fun little ice breaker. I’ll start. My name is Andy, I’m from the beautiful country of Argentina and I’m a Director as I’m sure you all know, let’s be more original, I know! Name your fear! I’m afraid of drowning.”

“My name is Randi, I’m from Kalamazoo Michigan, I’m an artist and I’m afraid of flying.”

“Ok hi everybody! I’m Bill, I’m from Stockholm Sweden, I’m a human and I’m afraid of being alone.”

I giggled like an idiot, froze and looked over at Randi, who was smiling at me, shaking her head. Dammit.

“My name is Barbara and I’m Andy’s sister, and I am afraid of creepy crawly things.”

“I’m Maria from Brazil, I am photographer and I fear bad lighting and flaky models. Thank goodness for Liv appearing like magic and save the day.” She smiled at me warmly and squeezed my hand.

I felt everyone’s eyes on me, and could feel my heart pounding in my chest. I couldn't bear to look at Bill or Randi, so I stared down in my lap and could feel my face heating up. “I’m Liv from Las Vegas, I guess I’m a model for now and I’m afraid of being a failure, velociraptors, roller coasters, centipedes and public speaking.” I chuckled uncomfortably. I ramble when I’m nervous.

“I’m afraid of velociraptors as well,” Bill laughed. “Jurassic Park ruined me as a child.”

Everyone laughed heartily at Bill’s expense but I felt appreciative of him making my ridiculous fear seem more credible and drawing attention away from my obvious nervousness. I snuck a peek at him and he winked at me playfully.

I didn't know what to think of this beautiful man. My initial reaction to him had been negative. He seemed like every other snobby Hollywood type, complete with crazy girl problems, but as the day progressed, he surprised me over and over with how genuine he seemed to be.

As lunch went on, Randi and Maria were talking technical terms, so Bill and I looked at each other and just smiled and shrugged our shoulders. It wasn't like we were being ignored, just everyone except us was wrapped up in their own conversations. I was content with that too, but then an ice cube flew into my cleavage.

My eyes shot open and I observed a very amused Bill trying to contain his laughter but not doing a very good job.

”I promise I’m not an asshole. I have just been trying to get your attention since we got here. So how long you been in LA?” He asked me like i was the most interesting thing he’d ever encountered.

”What time is it? Less than 24 hours.”

His eyes went wide and he choked on his drink a bit, then began to laugh at himself . ”wow, and you already booked a major job? Who is your agent? Are you an actress or just gorgeous... I mean a model.”

”you are super smooth Bill. I’m kidding! Don’t pout you’ll get wrinkles.” I had to give him some shit. “I don’t have an agent because I don’t have any interest in fame at all.”

He looked impressed by that for some reason. ”so what brought you here?”

”Randi is my best friend, and I needed a change of scenery.” I said making sure to avoid eye contact. I knew I was just being paranoid, but I felt like he could look into my soul, with the intensity he was looking at me with. I’m a terrible liar, so I’m convinced if I look at him, he’ll see I’m not being honest. I didn't want to mention the literal hell id escaped to be here.

I could still feel his gaze on me, and I caught Andy looking between us with an unreadable expression. He's a director so he probably can read people really well.

Shit. I’m probably just being my normal neurotic psycho self. No one probably gives two shits about me, and this is all in my head. These people are famous and successful. I’m just another one of the millions of girls that they encounter in LA.

Maria tapped my shoulder. “Hi honey, can you switch seats with your friend? I want to show some my work?”

I smiled and agreed, but the butterflies in my stomach were going crazy as I took my seat by Bill. He was texting so I got my phone out to play a game or two. Suddenly I felt Bill’s leg press up against mine. I looked over at him, but he just continued with his phone, but was clearly smirking. Just then The food arrived and I was famished, so all other thoughts were abandoned.

“Wow! You eat real food!” Andy exclaimed.

“Oh it’s not fair! Liv has always eaten whatever she wants and doesn’t gain a pound.” Randi whined.

I blushed feeling all the attention on myself again. I wanted to fade into my surroundings like a chameleon. “I like to eat.”

I looked at Bill and he was off his phone but I could tell he was watching me as he ate.

“What?” I asked finally, when he didn’t stop looking at me.

“You’re very interesting.” He said.

“How?” I scoffed.

“Well for starters you’re drop dead gorgeous but you don’t like being the center of attention. Am I right?”

“I wouldn’t go with drop dead gorgeous, maybe conventionally attractive. There’s not really anything wrong with me, but there’s nothing to write home to your mother about either.”

He chuckled. “See? There you go again. You’re humble and funny too.”

I could feel my face burning so I excused myself to go use the restroom, but Bill said he’d show me where it was since he needed to smoke and make some calls.

I was fully aware where it was, but agreed and figured I’d let him show me. He turned before we reached the bathroom and he opened a door that appeared to almost blend in to the wall, revealing a very plush, luxurious bathroom with a large vanity.

“Oh my gosh is this like the Secret VIP potty?” I asked. I had always heard about secret lounges and VIP cool stuff so I was ecstatic to actually see one. I probably seemed like such a dork but I didn’t care.

“Something like that.” He said following me inside and locking the door behind him. I turned around to tell him there only appeared to be one toilet, when he took a couple steps and closed the distance between us and kissed me, pinning me against the wall.

He pulled back and looked down into my eyes, “I’ve wanted to do this since I saw you.” He said deepening the kiss again.

I stepped aside to move out from under him and caught my breath. “Your girlfriend though!”

“It’s over with her. It’s been stale a long time” He said as he wrapped his arm around my waist. “Don’t worry, I'm sick of her. I much rather have you. Do you have a boyfriend?” He pulled me against him again and my God the man was so good looking.

“Nope. I’d have kicked you if I did, I’m not a cheater.” I couldn’t believe his lips were on me. I tried to think and get ahold of myself and be rational, but as he kissed down my neck and groped my breasts, it was getting hard to remember why this wasn’t the best idea ever.

“. Listen, you’re very attractive Bill. Like best looking guy I’ve ever seen attractive, and I’m flattered, but we should get back. They’re gonna wonder.”

“This dress is killing me though, and youre so so beautiful.” He groaned lustilly, as he slowly slid my dress’ strap down, continuing his way down, kissing down my throat to my chest. He exposes my breast and looks up to make sure I wasn’t going to object, but when I just bit my lip, he placed his mouth on my nipple, suckling at my breast. He releases it with a popping sound, and slips a hand under my skirt, rubbing me through my panties, as he sucksin a breath through his teeth, before going for my other breast. This motherfucker is gonna kill me. How can one man be so hot and what did I do in a past life to deserve this shit? Seriously universe? How do I carry on knowing his tongue was on my nipple?

He hiked my skirt up to brush his fingertips across my folds. He bit my bottom lip and then pulled his hand out from under my skirt, and sensually tasted his fingers before leading me to the large round cushioned ottoman at the vanity, trying to get me to sit.

“What are you up to? You’re - this is so bad.” I tell him as he pushes me down lightly as he kisses me passionatly.

He looked deep in my eyes. “Please let me taste you and make you feel good. I don’t expect anything from you and I don’t do this type of thing ever, but I’ve honestly never wanted to see what someone tastes like more in my life.”

FUCK. Who in the hell could say no to that?

All I could do is nod, too shocked to fully comprehend that this was really happening.

He got on his knees in front of me and I couldn’t help but admire his gorgeous features. As crazy as it sounds, he had the most beautiful bone structure; severe and angular, yet it was offset by his big green eyes with their long sweeping lashes, luscious plump full lips, and adorable perfect little child-like nose. His hair was silky and thick and he smelled like mint and soap.

I watched as he pulled my underwear off and placed them in his pocket, before leaning me back with one hand, as the other lifted my dress. He bit my inner thigh gently, but still sent a thrill up my spine causing me to visibly shudder.

“I haven’t even started yet,” he smirked up at me cockily, before pressing his mouth to my sex before I had time to reply. I’d had my pussy eaten before, but nothing like this. There was no sign of nervousness or insecurity that some men display when they go down there. Like you can tell they’re not sure what the fuck to do, but Bill was sure of himself and seemed to genuinely love doing it. He was so enthusiastic and it felt so amazing. I never had done something like this in my life, and wouldn’t even kiss on a first date, yet here I am. I was scandalized and aroused, and so close to an orgasm it was shocking.

“You gonna cum for me baby?. I love how you look right now.... Cum on my face.... please?” He pleaded and pushed another finger inside of me. I couldn’t look at him. It was all too much.

I let out a moan as he moved his fingers and tongue in such a combined effort, that I reached out and gripped his hair, pressing his face against me as my release crashed down on me, violently shaking me, and making everything go white, as it wound down. It was seriously one of the most intense orgasms I’ve ever had, and it took me longer than a polite amount of time to realize I was still holding his face, and immediately released him”I’m so sorry, I didn't realize I- .”

“Sshhh.” He said chuckling and came up and kissed me deeply. “Can you taste yourself on me?”

I nodded shyly, looking away to break eye contact. He was so intense and I wasn’t sure what he would want me to do to return the favor.

He put his finger under my chin and pulled my face back over to look in his eyes. “You’re beautiful.”

I looked back at him, waiting to see what he did next. I was surprised he wasn't taking his pants off, but was too shy to try and take them off myself. I really wanted to though, and that surprised me. I wanted him to fuck me and wasn’t going to think about it, just do it. Like Nike.

He stood up and helped me to my feet, and helped smooth my dress out. He pulled me into another kiss and I could feel how excited he was.

“Let me make you feel nice now.” I mentally scolded myself for saying something so not sexy but just looked up at him with my best doe eyed look.

“You’re so cute. Don’t worry about me, just yet. I don’t want a quickie in a bathroom with you, I want like a bed and many. many. hours. I want to impress you.”

“I’m fucking impressed Bill.”

He chuckled and bit his lip, and you could see the wheels turning. “I really want to fuck you but I also don’t wanna be too long and full disclosure, Andy threatened serious bodily harm not to touch you. Said you’re a heartbreaking man eater.”

“Randi advised me to avoid you because you’re a foreign actor that’s too good looking for his own good. You’re obviously a monster.”

We both got a good laugh out of that.

“What’s your phone number?” He asked taking out his phone.

“I don’t currently have one. I need to get one. I lost mine yesterday.”

He looked at me incredulously. “If you don’t want to give me your number it’s ok.”

“No. Take Randi’s number, that’s the phone I was using earlier anyways, that way you can call, cuz I don’t have a pen or anything.”

“How about your email, and then you can send me your number when you get it. Randi might catch on if I call her phone.”

“You’re so smart! You’ll see me in a week on your new movie too.”

“Really? That’s the best news I got all day but if you think I’m waiting a week to be inside you, you’re insane. Now go, just say I went to smoke and make calls if they ask where I am. I’ll give it a couple minutes.”

I gave him my email and walked out the door to go try and act like the hottest fucking thing to ever happen in my life, didn’t just go down. When I turned the corner, I nearly threw up and cane to a screeching halt. I met eyes with the estranged exgirlfriend. I didn’t wanna seem weird so I smiled and sat down to finish my meal, since turning around and running the other direction might bad. I mean as far as I was concerned he was single, so I had no reason to feel guilty of anything. And I didn’t plan on admitting that happened to anyone, so not telling her was totally fine. She tapped on my arm and I cautiously turned to her.

“Did you see Bill by chance?” She asked politely.

“He said he was smoking and making some important calls when he left the table earlier.”

She laughed a little and rolled her eyes, “that man and his cigarettes! I blame Hemlock Grove for turning him into a chainsmoker. He’s probably smoked two or three in a row.”

“All this talk about smoking makes me want one, I’ll go find him. Excuse me ladies.” Andy said, as he quickly walked towards the exit to find Bill.

“He’s probably going to warn Bill that I’m here. We got in a fight earlier and he can be such a brat. Watch when he comes back, he’ll pretend like nothing happened.”

Maybe she didn’t realize he really was done with her. She had a funny accent so I assumed she’s Swedish too. He was probably her only friend out here so I couldn’t help but pity her.

“Between silent treatments and smoking, Bill would be dead by morning.” Randi said with a mischievous wink.

“Oh if you could see his hissy fits, they’re the worst!” She enthused. “Anything in his hands he’ll throw and if it’s something like a sandwich or drinks and won’t hurt you, he’ll throw it on you. But then if I try and ignore him, he’ll lay on me like a big dead weight until I speak.” His girlfriend said, laughing hysterically. Everyone joined in telling stories of past boyfriends that were grown men, having varying degrees of tantrums, but I just sat silently. My ex story wasn’t funny.

Andy and Bill came back and I could feel an anxiety attack creeping up on me.

I looked up and Bill was staring at me and I looked to Randi and she had a puzzled look on her face. In an effort to not give anything away to her, my eyes shot back up to Bill.

Bill looked furious. He seethed animosity and I just looked down at my plate to avoid that glare. I wasn't sure if I was the cause or she was, but I desperately wanted to run out of the place screaming and looked at Randi again pleading with my eyes to go. She seemed to catch on and I tried to keep it together.

His ex got up and rushed over to him. Just as I looked up, she planted a soft kiss on his cheek. My eyes narrowed involuntarily as he glanced over at me, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from him. His girlfriend grabbed his face and kissed him right on the lips.

I felt like I was going to throw up. Tears threatened to spill but I held them back as I stared at my lap. I kept seeing Bill’s eyes as he looked up at me from between my legs. Flashes of him pinning me to the wall, or oh my fucking god! My underwear are in his pocket!

My pussy is on his face too and he just kissed her.

He seemed so genuine, but he was an actor, what did I expect. Faking Feelings and emotions was how he paid the bills. I couldn’t believe how stupid and guillable I was! He probably got off on this shit. Poor woman. I was exaggerating when I’d said he was a monster but goddammit I was right!!!

”Ok thank you for inviting us and I can't wait to see whoever is going to join us in Toronto, but Liv and I must be off for an important appointment and then packing.” Randi said her goodbyes as I walked around the table and stood beside her, keeping my back to Bill.

”Bye everybody. I had fun” I said Sweetly and then I turned on my heel and walked past Bill without a glance.

”See you two in Toronto.” Bill called after us, and even though I refused to look at him, I could feel his eyes burning into my back as we walked away.

#bill skarsgard #bill skarsgård #bill skarsgard au #bill skarsgard asks #my writing

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mellz117 · 4 years

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Mellz plays KH Re:Com on PS2, Reverse/Rebirth (Riku’s campaign) Part 2

Yeah I hate Larxene. She’s mean for the sake of being mean, she has no redeeming qualities. Xemnas at least has a goal, Larxene is just an asshole just to be so. She reminds me of Agent South from Red vs Blue, whom I also can’t stand lmao.

Now that THAT’S out of the way....

Check out part 1 of Riku’s campaign if you’re joining me for the first time! Also linked there is the beginning of my time with Sora’s part of the game. Otherwise, let’s continue.

……………………………………………………………………………………………

Snibbs shout out to you for warning me about Wonderland. LETS GO THERE RIGHT NOW!

Ok I think I know that you meant. I have like 20 cards but only 9 show up in battle.

Oh wow ok. I only ever have 9 cards to work with in Wonderland which sucks against the boss. So I died.

I'm getting so mad right now. I died 4 times. Ok. After reaching the next floor a cut scene plays and Lexaeus tells Zexion that Vexen is dead, which he already knew because "his scent is gone". Some convoluted bullshit gets talked about, if the hero of light loses his path the Organization might find use for the hero of darkness. If the hero of light goes astray YOU STILL HAVE ROXAS.

……………………………………………………………………………………………

So I'm at the Olympus Colosseum and after a while I started wondering out loud

"Can Dark Firaga heal Hades?"

And my sister, who's been eating Ferrero Rocher says "Dark Ferrero?"

Thanks, Rose. Do they make Ferrero Rocher with dark chocolate? I kinda want that.

I do not struggle with Hades at all. Ever. Especially when I don’t have a stupid DUCK casting fire spells.

……………………………………………………………………………………………

When we finish the Colosseum Riku meets Lexaeus, who's already got his tomahawk out. He's ready to kick ass and take names. Nobody here has any time to stop and smell the white, ceramic roses do they?

He calls Riku an infantile coward (a wussy baby) and battle ensues.

Oh ho-ho on battle attempt number 5 we both had one hit left in our HP bars. Guess who won!

NOT ME!

Death count with Lexaeus was 6 after a bunch of grinding. My card count wasn't a problem it was my HP.

Jesus christ, Lex. Hes 15, give him a break. No, not shatter his back on the ceiling...

Well now you done it. Ansem took over and kicked your ass for Riku.

Rose: "Sorry, Ansem, I don't think you're his type"

Please stop talking. Seriously. Someone call the feds omfg

Zexion laments Lexaeus’s defeat. He sounds so sad about it. Were they close?This melancholy mood is quickly shoved aside when Axel appears. They both casually discuss who of the remaining Org13 members in this castle is gonna die next. Zexion leaves to confront Riku himself.

It doesn’t take long before Marluxia's dead, which is enough power to SHAKE THE WHOLE CASTLE and Zexion shows himself to Riku. "Sora's destiny is to fight the darkness, including you, Riku". he says and peaces out until we get the Destiny Islands.

Poor Riku, constantly being bombarded with reminders of his mistakes. These bad guys REALLY like to give him a hard time. LET HIM LEARN WITHOUT HURTING HE’S TRYING HIS BEST.

The Darkside is also a super easy boss. Especially at this point in the game. It's like a bull against a mouse, and the mouse wins. The mcguffin card showed up at the end when it wasn't necessary but I used it anyway.

There’s a door. Oh I get a choice? I don't remember that door. I always just went up to "Sora". What happens if I pick the door?

God damn imagine how BEYTRAYED Riku feels, thinking Sora has turned against him. Hm, well Sora sure knows how it feels now Riku does too!

He looks so sad...

A figment of Kairi appears before Riku. “There is no power than can defeat you” she says. So Riku is OP? She means like, one nor the other has to be his downfall. She tells him the darkness will make him stronger but that’s what ANSEM has been telling him this whole time. And Riku just believes this illusion of Kairi… why? She’s parroting Ansem and Riku’s like “...Yeah that sounds legit”

……………………………………………………………………………………………

What does darkness smell like? Like a damp towel? Stale potatoes?

Battle ensues. So I didn't realize Zexion was stealing my cards to use against me. So what a surprise when I paused to do something and he's got Soul Eater in hand!

Upon exiting the Destiny Islands a cutscene in the darkroom plays. Zexion is scared half to death by Repliku before he realizes Axel is there too. Oh how short that wave of relief lasts... Axel manipulates Repliku and has him kill Zexion. Axel is a bastard. How would killing Zexion help Repliku? What does he know too much of? Isn't he still loyal to Xemnas? Or did he defect like Marluxia and was considered a traitor? Is AXEL even still loyal to the Organization at this point?

Poor Zexion.

The disembodied voice of Ansem Seeker of Darkness calls out to Riku. "Who's there?!" Riku asks, totally forgetting the fact he has seen this man talk with this voice. Canonically it's the same voice. It may be different to the audience but in canon it's the same!

Mickey is at full opacity.

I really like seeing this side of Riku, more silly and cute.

Riku just really needs a hug.

Riku is just completely overcome with relief and his legs give out on him. He’s not alone anymore. When did they get the time to bond between the end of KH1 and CoM?

I'm reading this aloud and Rose says, when I'm done. "No, no, you have to do the voice”

Ok so I went back and reloaded the save before the Darkside fight and the door just leads you to the previous room in case you want to save. Now with that over with, we go to Twilight Town

……………………………………………………………………………………………

DiZ tries to be all "ooh Im evil, I’m Ansem, be very afraid Riku". They battle pose and nothing happens for a too long an awkward moment of time and Riku sees right through this farce.

"You're not the true Ansem" ACTUALLY HE LITERALLY IS THE TRUE ANSEM THE ANSEM YOU KNOW IS TERRANORT’S HEARTLESS LMAO. Look if any of you reading this don’t know Diz and Ansem the Wise (not seeker of darkness) are the same person, what are you doing here?

Oh look it's that ho. I know I keep dragging Repliku but I'm just remembering his death scene and I'm really sad again. I honestly feel so bad for him. He needs a hug. He's super distressed and it's just so heartbreaking. Help!

“Your own darkness doesn’t scare you anymore”

“How can you tell?”

How many of you have played Sonic Adventure 2?

Repliku’s feelings of existentialism hurt me.

I stop feeling bad for him with every death I face

I was grinding for level ups and this happened

I’m barely within its despawn range lmao

……………………………………………………………………………………………

I did it! I don't know how but I beat Repliku! Guess a lot of dueling is the technique? Because I ended up doing that a bunch.

So Repliku is dying. I gave him a lot of crap and drug him through the dirt but the fate of Repliku is a heartbreaking one. He's just laying there and accepts his fate. HE DIED SO YOUNG.

I’m suddenly reminded of this omg

Let’s get back on track.

What DOES happen if a replica dies? Riku ponders as well, perhaps they go to the same place as a normal person. THIS SCENE MAKES ME SO SAD [video]

After all this anger and drama I'm glad that Riku feels pity the replica. He's not heartless. We now enter the mansion and into the... Basement? Is the pod room in the mansion’s basement?

Omg shes so cute.

She shows Riku the pod Sora’s in and Riku's wigging out, thinking Namine's done something wrong with him. Riku, you’re scaring her!

She explains what he's doing there and offers to use her power to make Riku forget the darkness. Riku is concerned he could forget his loved ones as a result.

Riku is king of sass

God damn I love this kid. Little shitlet half the time but I love him. My son. My boy. That stupid finger waggle

DIZ! YOU'RE 3 FEET I FRONT OF RIKU. JUST HAAAANNND HIM THE CARD LIKE A NORMAL HUMAN BEING. THIS AIN’T YU-GI-OH!

GEE I WONDER! Think back what, 10 years ago? Is that when BbS took place?

Riku is ready once and for all to fight Ansem and tells Mickey to stay behind because there’s no point in fighting him if Riku can’t win with his own power.

He’s like “Hey do me a solid? if I don't defeat Ansem, just kill me.”

Riku-interrupting Mouse interrupts him “Sure I’ll save you if that happens”

“No, no. If I lose, DESTR-”

-”Nope!”

……………………………………………………………………………………………

Here’s [part 3] of Reverse/Rebirth, as well as my final thoughts.

#kingdom hearts series #kingdom hearts chain of memories #mellz plays kh recom #kh recom #kh re:com #square enix #Playstation 2 #mellz post

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tickle-me-kylo · 6 years

Text

Wrong Turn (Clyde Logan x Reader)

6,854 words. NSFW under the line. Also available here on Ao3. Please leave kudos or comments if you’d like me to continue this plot line.

Hey, @Clydeloganlogan, I wrote a little story about that time we met, baby!

You were so out of your element.

“Turn right onto Old Farm Road” your GPS instructed. You made the turn and were promptly met with a spray of red clay dirt and loose gravel under your tires. You slowed the car, confused. A dirt road? That couldn’t be right, could it? You quickly swung your rental car around and the GPS tried to recalculate, but... signal lost.

Just great. Lost in the backwoods of West Virginia. Somewhere in the back of your mind, a familiar banjo tune began to play. You flipped on your high beams and managed to find your way back to the main road you had turned off of. But... where were you supposed to go now?

You saw the glow of colored neon in the distance as you rounded a curve. As you got closer, you realized it was a restaurant, or a bar, maybe?

Duck Tape?

What kind of name for a bar was that? You parked your car and grabbed your phone, praying someone in this hillbilly oasis would speak coherently enough to give you directions to the motel. You walked through the door and your senses were immediately overcome by the smell of stale beer, tobacco in several forms, and a hint of cheap cologne.

The moment you stepped inside, every head in the bar turned to look at you. It got noticeably quieter as twenty or so pairs of eyes carefully looked you over, determined you were definitely not from around there, then went back to their conversations.

Wow. Must have been because you missed the memo about it being “dirty overalls and cowboy boots Friday”.

You opted to avoid the tables and booths and decided to tuck yourself into a corner at the bar instead, attempting to be as invisible as possible. Maybe the bartender would be able to...

‘Damn. They grow ‘em big in West Virginia!’ you thought to yourself as you and the extra-large bartender locked eyes with each other for what seemed like an awkward eternity.

He was handsome, with dark hair that was a little too long (but it looked good on him), and facial hair (something else you didn’t normally care for, but on him, it was perfection). He had on an old 70s band T-shirt with a flannel shirt over it, and jeans that were just tight enough to make you notice.

It was his eyes that confounded you. Big and brown, those eyes peered at you now like a scared little kitten. Why in the hell was this Sasquatch of a man afraid of 5’2” you?

“Hi!” You said to break the ice, and you thought you saw him jump a little at the sound of your voice. “Uh... I just drove in from Chicago.I think I’m a little lost? I was trying to find Hwy 5? My GPS crapped out on me up the road from here.”

The bartender just stared. You could have sworn this man’s fight or flight response was attempting to engage.

“Yeah, so...” you continued. “If you could point me in the right direction? Also, I’m starving. Do you guys serve food?”

“Yep.” He replied, and then proceeded to turn and walk away. You sat for a moment, utterly perplexed, when you heard a chuckle to your right. You turned to the man sitting there, dressed in a grease-stained work shirt and baseball cap.

“Don’t worry about him.” The man said. “That just means he likes you. He’ll be back in a second with the menu.” He stuck out his hand. “Jimmy Logan.” He said. You took his hand and shook it. “The not so jolly giant over there is my little brother Clyde.”

“Little brother?” You said with a laugh. “What does your big brother look like?”

Jimmy pointed at you and slapped the bar as he laughed.

“I like you! You’re funny!” He said, taking a sip of his beer. At that moment, Clyde came back over, menu in hand. He looked at you, then at Jimmy, and back at you, frowned as he slid the menu in front of you, and walked away.

You looked over the menu and settled on some BBQ chicken nachos. Clyde took your order and tapped it into the point of sale computer. That’s when you saw it. Clyde had been holding his left hand behind him slightly since he’d walked over to you earlier, almost as if he had been hiding something. Now you saw why. In place of his left forearm and hand was a high-tech mechanical prosthetic. Jimmy must have seen you staring (although you hadn’t meant to).

“He’s sensitive about it.” Jimmy said. “The hand.” He tipped the neck of his beer bottle towards his brother, as if he needed to clarify who he was talking about.

“That’s understandable.” You replied. “I can’t imagine how difficult it must be. He looks like a sweet guy too. Quiet. Does he ever talk?” You asked.

“Lord, yes.” Jimmy retorted with a chuckle, and took another sip of his beer. “There are nights when I wish I could shut ‘im the hell up!”

“Good looking guy, too.” You said under your breath, but Jimmy must have had excellent hearing because he raised his eyebrows at you and grinned. You blushed when you realized you’d been heard.

“Welp, gotta make a trip to the office, then I’m heading home.” Jimmy said suddenly as he got up from his bar stool. He drained the rest of his beer in one sip when he stood, then nodded towards you. “Been nice talkin’ to you, city girl! Be safe out there.”

You smiled at Jimmy and said goodbye. He was halfway to the back of the bar when you realized you still didn’t know where the hell you were!

“Wait, Jimmy!” You called. “Can you give me directions to Hwy 5?” Jimmy turned and smiled and shrugged.

“Clyde’s yer man for directions. Have a good night, doll.”

Clyde was looking at his brother like a deer in the headlights from the other end of the bar. Jimmy just winked at him and tilted his head back in your direction. You smirked. What had that little interaction been about?

In a few minutes, Clyde brought your food.

“So, it’s Clyde, right?” You asked before he could slip away again. He nodded shyly.

“Yep.” He said. “What else did my brother tell ya’?” His drawl was slow and very West Virginian, but every syllable was enunciated as if he had carefully considered each word before speaking it.

“Nothing really,” you replied “other than you’re a nice guy, and you can give me directions to the highway.”

“Well, yeah. I reckon I can.” Clyde said. You popped a nacho in your mouth as he continued. “Where on five are ya’ headed?”

“Comfort Inn motel.” You replied.

“You in town for long?” Clyde asked, and he stumbled on a couple of the words, as if asking that question made him very nervous. You grinned.

“For a week.” You replied. “Visiting my aunt on her farm. I didn’t want to roll in on her so late at night though, so I decided to get a room.” You flushed slightly, feeling like you were oversharing. There was something about Clyde, though. You wanted to get him talking for some reason.

You chatted for a while about the town, and your aunt’s farm. You soon discovered that, just like his brother said, getting Clyde to talk wasn’t that difficult once you had him engaged in a subject he was familiar with. He would chat with you for a while, then go take care of patrons, but as soon as he was done he would quickly make his way back to you.

You noticed the more comfortable Clyde got, the closer he would get to you as you conversed. Soon, he was leaning on his forearms on the bar right in front of you so that the two of you were at eye level. It was then that you realized just how incredibly gorgeous this walking plaid-covered brick wall of a man really was.

As the night became late-night, the bar gradually emptied until it was only you and two or three locals who required little attendance. As you were reminiscing about the tire swing your aunt had put in the big oak tree at her farm (you wondered if it was still there), Clyde came around the bar and took the seat next to you.

“What made you decide to become a bartender?” You asked Clyde. You were playing with the straw from your glass of soda, twisting it in your fingers. You were nervous. No, not nervous. You were... flustered? What was this guy doing to you?

“It was a necessity more’n anything, I reckon’.” Clyde replied. “When I opened this place, it did not occur to me that findin’ a qualified bartender would be s’hard. My sister Mellie makes a dern good cocktail, but her passions lie with hairdressin’, not bartendin’. Not to mention Jimmy near ‘bout killed a guy that popped her on the rear the one night she did work here. So I did the responsible thing as a business owner, and learned to do it my own self.”

“Wait.” You said, an element of surprise in your voice. “You OWN this place? Wow, Clyde, that’s impressive!” You leaned over without even thinking and brushed your elbow against his. The metal of his prosthetic was smooth and cool against your skin. You felt him retract his touch from you slightly, although you could tell it was more of a reflex than a reaction.

“You know what I do?” You asked him. “For a living, I mean.” You glanced at him. He turned his eyes towards you in anticipation.

“I’m a physical therapist.” You continued. “Just finished school last year, but I’ve been working with the VA in Chicago for six months already. I guess you could call it an internship, but I think I’m going to take a permanent position.”

“The VA?” Clyde repeated. “You work with veterans?”

“Every day.” You nodded and smiled. “Where were you stationed?” You were making an assumption, but you wouldn’t have made a bet that you were right.

“Lejeune, in North Carolina.” Clyde confirmed your educated guess. “‘Til I was deployed to Iraq.”

“Semper Fi.” you said in reply, and the look he gave you made something deep inside you quiver. “And at the risk of sounding cliche, thank you for your service.”

“Not at all.” He responded, and his voice was soft. “Knowin’ someone sweet as you appreciates it makes it a little bit easier.” You blushed at his words, although you didn’t know why. What was it with this guy? You decided to steer the topic away from an obviously difficult subject.

"So, um…. I know I'm only in town for a week, but..." you couldn't believe you were about to say what you were about to say to a guy you'd known for only a couple of hours. "Would you go to dinner with me one night? I've enjoyed talking to you, Clyde. I'd really like to get to know you better." "Darlin', I'd go to supper with you every night and twice on Sunday." Clyde replied in earnest, and when you looked up at him, the grin on his face made your cheeks go an even darker shade of crimson. "Got your phone on you?" you asked, and he fished it out of his shirt pocket. It was an ancient model iphone with a crack that ran across the top corner. "I don't have much need for one of them fancy smarty-phones." he said sheepishly when he saw your reaction. "I don't do a whole lotta' callin' or text-messagin'." "Well then," you replied with a gleam in your eye. "Let's see if we can change that." You opened up his contact app and added your name and number, and then saved it. You leaned over so the two of you could look at the tiny screen together. You noticed that this time, when your arm pressed against his, he didn't draw back. You showed him how to open the contacts, and where you name was, and how to click the icon to call you. "Now watch this." you said. You showed him how to open the messages app. "Send me a text." He looked at you like you'd just asked him to do the impossible. "Don't you have to have two thumbs to do that?" he asked, and you almost giggled when you suddenly realized he was serious. You smiled at him and shook your head.

"Not at all. Here, let me show you.” You took his phone and put it in his right hand. "You can hold the phone and text with your thumb at the same time." You put your own phone in your right hand and demonstrated, although your tiny hands made it look awkward, and you nearly dropped your phone twice. "Well, you get the idea. And your hand is..." you stared at his hand and cleared your throat a bit when you realized you were taking a little too long to continue your thought. "bigger...I mean… big.. enough... so that you shouldn't have the same problem as I do. Give it a try!" "What should I say to ya'?" he asked, and this time you did giggle. "Anything you want! And when you're done, press that little icon right there to send it." He balanced the phone in his hand and used his thumb to type. Damn, he caught on quick. You watched as he worked the tiny phone with skill, and your mind could not help but wonder what else those fingers could do. Your phone suddenly dinged, startling you from your daydream. You read the text he sent. 'tuesday night at 7? it is italian night at the elks club and martha edwards makes a mean lasagna.' You smiled like a smitten school girl and typed your reply. 'Tuesday night with you and Martha's lasagna sounds like the perfect date.' Once you hit send, you heard his phone vibrate. He clicked and read it, and smiled like a smitten school boy. "I suppose I could get used to that." he said. "I get kind of nervous when I have to talk on the phone. Writin’ is easier. I can think about what I wanna say before I have t'say it." He was still sitting close, right up against you, and his scent - the smells of the bar mixed with his own woodsy musk - was frankly intoxicating. You felt that sensation deep inside you again. "If you think that's cool, check this out!" You turned and made a silly face and took a selfie with your phone, then sent it to him in a text. "Oh, darlin', you need ta’ stop." he said with a chuckle when he saw the texted photo. "I don't know if I can take much more. Bad enough I have to think about you 'til Tuesday night. If you send me pretty pictures..." "Who says we have to wait until Tuesday?" you said, and you could only imagine what look you had in your eyes, because when he turned to you and saw it, he froze. "I, uh..." he stammered, and you quickly realized your mistake. This wasn't some slick Chicago city fuck-boy. Clyde was a man of honor who obviously respected the women in his life, and probably hadn't had a whole lot of one night stands, if any. "I'm so sorry." you said to rescue him from the awkwardness. "I don't know where that came from. I just... I guess I'm kind of taken by you, Clyde. That was uncalled for, though. I apologize." "No, no. Don't apologize. I… I’m flattered, darlin’. I wish I was as brave as you!" he replied. His face had started to redden. "Did the Marine war veteran just say he wishes he was as brave as me?" you laughed, and he chuckled along with you. "I don't think that was bravery, Clyde. More along the lines of brazen stupidity on my part. You know what? I should get going. I'm supposed to be at the farm for breakfast tomorrow. My aunt’s pancakes are something you never want to be late for!”

“Let me walk you to your car.” he said. “Gets real dark out in that parkin’ lot.” You smiled warmly at his chivalry. When you hopped off your bar stool and turned, you were struck with the realization of just how much bigger than you he was. He towered over you by at least a foot, maybe even a little more. And dear God, he was broad in ALL the right places. The two of you walked side-by-side out to your car, and when you beeped the key fob on the rental, Clyde immediately grabbed the door handle before you could do it yourself, and opened your door. You climbed inside, and he leaned over to give you directions.

“Now when you leave the parkin’ lot, you’re gonna turn left, then take the second left, alright?” he waited until you had nodded in agreement to continue. “Take that road until you get to tha’ red light. That’s Highway 5. Take another left, and the motel is gonna be down about a mile. If you see the dairy farm, ya’ went too far.”

He gently shut the door of the car, and you promptly rolled the window down. He leaned over and rested his forearm against the door so that he was eye-level with you. “Now if you get lost, don’t try t’find yer way back here. Just gimme a call, alright?” You nodded up at him with a smile. Before he could stand, you quickly leaned over and snuck a kiss on his cheek. You thought he might burst, he looked so surprised.

“What was that fer?” he asked, but his voice was soft.

“For being a gentleman, Clyde Logan.” you said, and started the engine of the rental. “I’ll text you when I get to the motel, ok? Don’t want you to worry about me.”

“Well, I’m prob’ly gonna do that anyway, just so ya’ know.” He stood then, and stepped back from the car. “Be careful, darlin’. Watch fer’ deer! They’ll jump right out in front of ya’”

You waved out of the open window as you pulled out of the parking lot.

The Comfort Inn wasn’t quite as comfortable as you would have liked. It looked more like the Bates Motel that had had a quick slap of paint and some new bed linens applied, but what could you expect this far out in the middle of nowhere? Once the attendant had given you the key, you parked your car in front of the door to your room and grabbed your bag and went inside. Thank goodness your room was on the front side of the building, where there was some light from the big bright sign by the side of the road.

Once inside, you took a quick shower, slipped on your favorite t-shirt and a pair of boy shorts, and slid into bed. At least the mattress was fairly comfortable, and the sheets were soft. No wifi (big shock) but you had just enough of a signal right off the highway that you would be able to text Clyde. That thought sent a little quiver to a place it probably shouldn’t have.

‘Made it to the motel!’ you sent. Before your phone screen could even dim, you saw he was typing a reply.

‘I’m glad your safe. everything there alright?’

‘Yep! Right as rain.’ you wrote back ‘Took a shower and I’m already in bed. No wifi here so no Netflix tonight.’

‘Netflix. that is the movie place on the internet right?’

You smirked. God, he was adorable. ‘Yes, it is indeed that movie place on the internet. I’ll have to show you how to Netflix and chill sometime.’ you typed, knowing full well it would go straight over his head.

‘that sounds real nice sweetheart’’

Mission accomplished. Now to seal the deal. You took a selfie in the low light of the room, the tattered neck of your sleep shirt showing a hint of your cleavage, and just enough of your bare hip in the pic to get the point across without being tacky or distasteful. You attached it to the text with the words ‘Sweet dreams’.

You thought for sure you had overstepped when he didn’t answer for what seemed like forever, or maybe that he’d fainted and hit his head on the bar when he’d seen the pic. You were into your second round of solitaire on your phone when it finally dinged.

‘Darlin your prettier than the first peach of the summer.’ he typed. You assumed that was a compliment and replied as such.

‘Why thank you, kind sir. You’re not so bad yourself, you know.’

‘Oh I don’t know about all that.’ he replied and you could nearly feel his embarrassment through your phone screen.

‘Trust me, Clyde. You are a very good looking man. You know what? Scratch that. Baby, you are HOT!’ you typed back, and even added the little flame emoji at the end. Fuck it, you were going to put all your chips on the table.

Again, a long pause that made you nervous. Finally, his reply.

‘Well I’m not one to argue with a lady, so I will take your word for it.’

Damn, that hadn’t gone over exactly like you had wanted it to. Why was this guy so nice? You decided to dial it back a notch and maybe appeal to his heroic side.

‘It’s so dark out here.’ you told him in your next text. ‘Chilly tonight too. Glad you’re there to text with me or I might be scared.’

The little dots animated to show he was typing, and they seemed to go on forever. Either he was writing you a novel, or he was having trouble getting out what he wanted to say. You were betting on the latter.

‘You ok?’ you asked, ‘You can tell me anything, Clyde. I certainly haven’t had much of a filter tonight, but I can’t help how much I like you. I know it sounds silly, especially since we just met, but I was attracted to you the minute I saw you. I wish we’d had more time together tonight.’

The little dots stopped as he read your message. There was a pause, and then they started again. This time, it didn’t take long for his message to appear.

‘Me too.’ it said simply. But then, ‘Do me a favor?”

‘Of course’ you replied, silently hoping he was going to ask for another, possibly more risqué selfie (although you sincerely doubted he would).

‘Take a look out the window.’ You furrowed your brow as you read the message. What the...? You slid out of bed and pulled back the curtain of the single window just enough to glance outside. There, on the other side of the parking lot was Clyde, standing against an old beat up pickup truck, phone in hand. You snapped the curtain closed and pressed your back against the wall, unable to suppress a giggle. Holy shit! You quickly typed a response.

‘Well what the hell are you doing standing out there in the cold? Come in here where I’m warm.’

Barely ten seconds passed before there was a tapping on the door. You opened it, making sure to stand back so no one would see you in your underwear. The room was dark, save for the little light over the sink in the bathroom which cast a warm orange glow out into the room. Once he was inside, you opened your mouth to say something cute and sassy to him, but before the words could come out, Clyde had you in his arms (both of them, you happily noticed). He lifted you up so that you were nearly face to face with him, sandwiching you between him and the door and god, he felt so good.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he devoured your mouth with his. He kissed you like he was starving, tugging at your lips, dipping in with his velvet tongue, wet and deep and delicious. For a moment, you forgot to breathe, and when you did, it came as a gasp. He took that as a sign that you were enjoying what he was giving you (yes, you most certainly were) and he continued without abandon.

You moved your hands down to venture underneath his t-shirt as he kissed you, desperate to feel the warmth of his skin. When your fingers found flesh, you felt him shiver, and goosebumps raised beneath your fingertips. You moaned against his mouth as you felt his huge right hand squeeze the flesh of your thigh, and then move up to grip your scantily clad ass. You bucked against him slightly and felt him react beneath you, the bulge in his jeans becoming even more pronounced. You backed away from his mouth long enough to get two words out.

“Bed. Now.” you said, your voice raspy with need, and being the gentleman he was, Clyde immediately complied. He placed you gingerly on the mattress, took a moment to drink you in, and then began to undress himself. When he began to remove his flannel shirt, he looked down at his prosthetic. You spoke before he had the chance to get nervous about it.

“Whatever you’re more comfortable with is fine with me.” you said, and he nodded. He undid the straps and removed the prosthetic hand and laid it on the chair near the bed, then tossed his flannel shirt on top of it. His t-shirt was next and my god, he was beautiful. You thought about helping him undo his pants (it was the physical therapist in you), but he had that down to an art form and had unbuttoned, unzipped, and shimmied out of his jeans before you could as much as reach forward to help.

You realized you were behind in the game a bit, and pulled your t-shirt over your head. Your tits bounced free and you swore you heard him squeak under his breath, but he smoothly covered it by clearing his throat. You grinned and watched him continue to undress like it was the best show you’d ever seen. And honestly, it did rank very high on the list.

He hitched his thumb into the waist of his boxers and slid them down, and it was your turn to squeak. However beautiful you thought Clyde Logan was, his cock was ten times as magnificent. If you’d had any question about whether the size of his more outwardly viewable body parts were in proportion to the less accessible ones, that answer was a resounding YES.

Just when you thought you couldn’t stand not touching him anymore, he was on the bed, his huge, warm body hovering above you. You ran your fingertips up his chest and around his neck, and when he leaned in to kiss you, your fingers found purchase in his long, dark locks. God, his hair was so soft. His lips were so soft. But there was one thing that was most definitely not soft, and when you reached down and took it in your hand, you felt his entire body react. Your fingers couldn’t even close around his cock he was so thick, and you silently wondered how it would fit inside of you. That was a challenge you were most definitely willing to accept, the thought of which sent a chill up your spine.

He balanced his weight on his left elbow above your head, his right hand exploring your body as you lightly stroked his cock with your hand. His touch was simultaneously rough and soft, and he soon had you writhing with need beneath him. Your tits, the size of which you had always been proud of, completely disappeared underneath his massive hand, and when he pinched a nipple between thumb and forefinger, you cried out in pleasure.

“I’m sorry, darlin’” he said as he raised himself up off of you a bit, thinking he had hurt you.

“No, no.” you cooed, wrapping your free hand around his waist and pulling him back to you. “That was a happy sound.” You peppered his shoulder and neck with kisses and sighed against his skin when his fingers returned to your nipple. This time, he did not stop when he coaxed out your little cries.

His hand moved down and you wondered if it was possible to actually die of anticipation as he slowly slid his fingers beneath the top of your panties. When his fingers found your slit, you moaned into his shoulder, and you heard him draw in a breath between his teeth.

“God, darlin’, you’re so wet.” he whispered in your ear, and you hummed in response.

“Mmmmm… That would be your fault.” You replied with a grin, but then he slid two massive fingers inside you and you bucked beneath him. “God, Clyde!” you exclaimed, your fingers digging into his upper arms as he explored you, his thumb gently grazing your clit in maddeningly slow circles. He worked you into a near frenzy, your breath coming in little heated gasps. And the entire time, he kissed you gently here and there, every third or fourth kiss returning to your lips.

“Do you mind if I…” Clyde said suddenly, but then paused, unsure of himself. “I mean, would it be ok if I…”

“What do you want, baby?” you asked, your lips hot against his neck as you kissed and nipped at the flesh there.

“I’m just dyin’ to taste you, sweetheart.” he replied, and his voice was deep and filled with need. The mere thought of that man’s mouth on your pussy was enough to make you whimper so there was no way in hell you were passing up his offer. You thought about the logistics for a second, given your size and his (and the size of the small double bed) and came up with a solution.

“Lie down.” You instructed as you pushed him back with your hands. He did as you instructed, and when he was flat on his back, you slid your panties off and climbed on top of him, straddling his broad chest. “You want to taste me, baby?” You asked. He nodded. You almost felt guilty for teasing him, but on the other hand, you knew it was going to be worth it. You slid your fingers down into your slick folds and flicked your clit with your middle finger, whimpering softly. When your fingers were thoroughly wet with your juices, you removed them and held them over Clyde’s mouth.

“Open.” You instructed and his mouth popped open as if you had flipped a switch. You stuck your fingers in his mouth and moaned as he sucked your essence from them. You jerked your fingers out of his mouth and he made a disappointed sound which made you smirk. “More?” You asked, and he nodded his head, eager as a kid in a candy shop.

“Scoot down a little.” you instructed and again he complied immediately and without question (damn, his obedience was really starting to turn you on!) You raised up on your knees and positioned yourself over his face. Before you even had a chance to say a word, he had grabbed your hip with that massive right hand and thrust you down onto his mouth. You gasped loudly as he worked you with his lips and tongue and he grasped you so tightly against him, you wondered how in the hell he could breathe.

The noises he was making while he ate you out were utterly filthy. Wet, sloppy sounds accompanied his grunts of pleasure, and holy shit, they were driving you mad. You slammed one hand flat against the wall behind the bed to steady yourself as you reached down to grab a handful of that ample black hair. How was he so good at this? He knew just when to flick, and just when to suck, and just when you thought it couldn’t get any better, he slid those thick fingers back inside you. You came undone — immediately and with little warning. Your knees weakened and you barely had a chance to utter the first letter of his name before you were pulled into one of the most intense orgasms you had ever had.

Clyde reveled in every second of your orgasm, and when you were done, he gently moved out from under you and took you in his arms (again, both of them) and laid you back down on the mattress. He reached over and grabbed his t-shirt from the chair beside the bed and wiped his face before laying on his side beside you, his left arm behind your head. You melted against him, his big arms engulfing you as you laid your head on his chest and breathed him in.

“I just need a sec.” you whispered. Your voice sounded dreamy and far away.

“You take all the time you need, sweetheart.” He replied softly. The fingers of his right hand were stroking little patterns on your hip, his breath hot against your hair as he laid patiently beside you, allowing you time to recover. You silently wondered how such a generous lover could still be single. Hell, was he even single? How would you know? You just met him that night, and had already climbed into bed with him. You sighed deeply against his chest. You had come to the country to escape, but you evidently had not been able to escape your own bad habits.

“You ok?” Clyde asked softly. He had heard your sigh.

“Mmm hmmm.” you hummed against his skin. What did it matter anyway? You’d be gone from this place in a week, and all of this, including Clyde Logan, would just be a memory.

Even though you were still floating from your orgasm, you couldn’t stand to make him wait any longer, and besides, his massive cock pressing against your stomach was making you horny all over again. You pushed him onto his back, still amused at how he had no trouble letting a girl half his size do whatever you wanted with him. You kissed him, and the fact that he still smelled and tasted like your pussy drove you a little crazy, causing your kisses to become deep and heated. You grasped his cock in your hand and he moaned into your mouth as you stroked him. You flicked a bead of precum from the head of his dick and then broke your kiss with him so you could lick the sticky substance from the pad of your thumb. From the look on his face, you thought he might cum then and there.

“Mmmmmm.” you cooed, your thumb slowly caressing your bottom lip, then moving down between your breasts, down your stomach, and back to his cock, which twitched with anticipation of your touch. “I think I want more of that.”

You slid your body down his and when you reached your destination, you ran your tongue up the length of his ample shaft.

“Oh god, please, darlin’!” he exclaimed, and in response, you took his cock in your mouth. His breath hitched in his throat as you ran your tongue slowly around the perimeter of the head. When you released him from the warmth of your mouth, you weren’t surprised to hear him beg.

“Please. Please don’t stop.” he whimpered, which sounded utterly delicious to you in that deep, rich voice of his.

“Hold my hair.” you instructed, and scooped your hair back so he could take it in his hand. You returned to his cock, taking it slowly into your mouth as deeply as you could, but fuck, he was so thick. It wasn’t long before your jaws ached from the size of him, but you persevered, sucking him off while you stroked the base of his cock with your hand. It wasn’t long before you were both a mess, his cock and your lips slick with your saliva and his precum. His hand was grasping tighter at your hair, his hips jutting upwards with your downward strokes, his breath fast and shallow. He was so close. You were anticipating feeling the hot stream of his cum hit the back of your throat when he released your hair and gripped your shoulder.

“Alright, darlin’.” he said, and then to your surprise. “Stop now.” you released him from your mouth and gave him a confused look.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, wondering if you’d done something that he didn’t like.

“Nothin’s wrong.” he explained. “I just didn’t want to… you know... do that in your mouth. Doesn’t seem respectful.”

You blinked at him, remembering the thought you’d had about him in the bar earlier. Respectful of the women in his life. Boy had you called it. He patted the bed beside him.

“Com’ere, baby doll.” he said, and you felt a little tingle at his choice of new pet name. “I’ve got somethin’ better for ya’ than that anyway.” The desire in his deep voice rolled through you like thunder, and this time, you complied. You crawled up next to him, but he turned to fish for his jeans on the floor. When he found them, he reached in one of the pockets and pulled out a condom. Respectful and responsible, you thought to yourself. This guy really did have it all. You watched as he rolled it on, your breath quickening as you anticipated what was next.

He was so big -- not only his cock, but just huge in general, that it was incredibly intimidating to be beneath him, especially since you were so much smaller than him. He seemed to understand that, however, and knew how to defuse it. He began a campaign of sweet kisses that trailed against your hairline, down your cheek and to your neck, where he nuzzled for a moment, making you giggle as he tickled you with the hair on his chin. He chuckled at your response and leaned in against your ear.

“If I hurt you, just tell me to stop, alright?” he whispered and you nodded in reply. He dipped his fingers into your folds, as if he were testing to see if you were ready for him. You were. You spread your legs wide so that he could move between them, and wrapped your arms around his neck as he reached down to grip his cock and...

Oh! Oh my god. You felt your walls involuntarily convulse when he pushed inside you, unused to being so full and so stretched. He began his thrusts slow and shallow and you were thankful. It was a lot to take, but his patience allowed you time to adjust, and before long, you had both legs wrapped around his hips, and were meeting each of his thrusts with your own.

You had never been fucked so thoroughly in your life. Every nerve in your body was screaming with pleasure as he drove you mad with his long strokes. The head of his cock consistently found that elusive spot deep inside of you, and each time it did, you would cry out, which would only cause him to fuck you harder. You were soon panting as he growled and grunted like a wild animal atop you, and as you neared your release, you dug your nails into his skin and held on for dear life.

“Clyde! God, baby, yes” you screamed, repeating his name as a mantra over and over as stars filled your vision as you came. The second he felt your pussy tighten around his cock he threw his head back and you felt it deep inside you as he found his release.

He collapsed beside you, a heaving, sweaty, gorgeous mess. Once he had caught his breath, he rose up on his elbow and planted a kiss on your lips, then rose from the bed. Ah. So that was it then. The door to the bathroom clicked shut and you leaned over the side of the bed, searching for your panties and t-shirt. You had just laid hands on them when Clyde exited the bathroom. You were trying to convince yourself that you preferred this — a clean break without any complications, when Clyde was suddenly on the bed again and wrapped around you like a warm blanket, his head resting on your belly. Ok. Well, complications also made things interesting. Right?

You ran your hands back through his dark hair, occasionally twisting a strand around your finger as his breathing deepened. He fell asleep, a big warm puppy wrapped in your arms. But you lay awake, desperately wondering what you’d gotten yourself into.

All of this over one little wrong turn.

#Clyde Logan #Logan Lucky Fic #Clyde Logan x Reader #Clyde x Reader #Clyde Logan Fic #Adam Driver #my fic #my writing

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dark-and-kawaii · 6 years

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Kirishima angstfluff? Please it can be anything you want *begs begs begs begs* you can delete this but myself figured to try and ask even though he isnt someone you currently writing for but if your writing wasnt so good i wouldnt have to ask and beg my english isnt vary good sorry :(

(>~

Nooooo he isn’t on the list, buuuuut since you really seem to want this I will, especially since kirishima is a baby boy.

Guess next time I’ll be adding everyone to the list… You told me to do anything so i did as i please, and i hope you enjoy dis masterpiece *wiggles arms* Kirishima is such a man!

All the female students loathed you in your class, you were too quiet for them, not only that but you were quite stunning, all the boys had taken note of it, unfortunately for you, so did the girls. Staring out the window as you sat in your seat you watched the rain fall from the sky. Noticing how the birds were taking cover in the trees, hiding from the droplets that could cause harm to them.

Hiding, something you wished you could do at this very moment. A group of girls were sitting not far from you, talking about you. Spitting out hateful remarks like, “god, if she were to be hit by a train none of us would care.” -They giggled.- “Yeah, i know right? Ugh without that pretty hair of hers i bet she would be hideous, not that its helping much now in my opinion.” -They giggled again.- “The guys only want her so they can say they’ve fucked her, i even heard one of them making a bet to see if they could.” They all laughed again once more, not caring that you could hear everything.

‘Why me?’ You thought while staring at the beautiful yellow bird.

With the ring of the bell the class had dismissed. You were gathering your things in your arms before one of the girls elbowed you hard in the side making you drop all of your belongings onto the floor. “Watch where you’re standing newbie.” The cruel girl laughed while walking out of the classroom. Kneeling down you began to re-gather her now scattered belongings.

‘I envy you little birdie, you’re able to fly and hide wherever you please. Unlike me, I’m trapped here with no one.’ Once your belongings were back in your arms you began to head towards your next lesson.

You were quietly sitting in your seat, attempting to read until you felt a paper ball smack you on the head, causing it to fall on the desk. Putting your book down you hesitantly picked up the paper ball opening it ‘Get lost’. You crumpled it up tossing it into the trash can. As you threw the paper ball into the trash you had taken note a male with grey hair was now bending down next to you.

“Hey there pretty little lady.” -Girls snickering in back- “You look awfully nice in our uniform ya know.” He said while a hand was combing through his hair. “I see you’ve been getting picked on lately, not cool, am i right?” All you could do was nod in agreement. “Why don’t i walk you to your next class? I could be like a bodyguard for you.” With a smirk on his face he held his hand out to her as the bell rang. Standing from your seat you gathered your things ignoring his hand, getting ready to walk past him you stopped at his side “If you really want to walk with me that’s up to you.” You firmly said beginning to walk out the door. “Well then wait up gorgeous.” The grey haired male finally caught up to you.

Nearing your next lesson you saw the male stick his foot out in front of you, with no time to react you had fallen over his foot. The male had “fallen” with you, only for him to land perfectly on top of you lifting your shirt for everyone to see.

Your face was white like the paper in your notebook, you felt sick and so lost. Questions spinning around in your head, why am i here? Why was i born? When will it end? Your eyes were pinched shut, all you could hear was the laughter of the male who had offer to be your bodyguard, along with a few others.

“That’s not very manly of you, man!” An abrupt shout had caused your eyes to skyrocket open. The male who had betrayed you was being launched off of you thanks to the fist that had made contact with his face.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, man!” A boy with spiky red hair had the male by the collar of his uniform. “I think you owe her an apology! And the rest of you just stood there watching and laughing when she needed help! I don’t think any of you really belong here!”

You were on the school’s floor balancing yourself on your elbows, watching as this spiky red haired male stood up for you…

‘Someone… Is… Helping me? … No! He’s probably just another jerk!’ Fearful of your appalling thought you dashed away in a frenzy.

“Hey wait! Come back!” The spiky red haired male called out to you, but to no avail, you ignored it.

You were upstairs on the roof, crouched in a corner holding your eyes. You were doing your best holding it together, but you couldn’t do it anymore, the streams of tears flowed frantically down your face and to the ground. So caught up in your emotions you hadn’t heard the roof door open and drag to a close.

“He-Hey, please don’t cry.”

A hand was placed firmly on your shoulder to comfort you, only you felt it as an attack. Startled you immediately and unpreparedly attacked his hand, cutting him ever so slightly with your quirk.

An iridescent energy spread out like feathers was released from your shoulder area, most the iridescent energy flowed graciously around you as the a small bit became hard like teeth. Resulting in you cutting his hand.

“Please, no more… Why can’t you just leave me be.” Your head was curled up in the stale damp of your skirt as your quirk flowed all around you. When a breeze blew past you it would cause your hair to glide with the wind, along with your quirk. Giving you an almost angelic look.

Kirishima looked in awe, his mouth agape. Never had he need such a beautiful quirk before. It was so strikingly beautiful, so womanly… “It’s alright, i’m not going to hurt you like everyone else. Please, don’t be afraid of me. It’s a man’s duty to protect a woman, not to cause harm. I’m Kirishima Eijiro.” He had held his hand out for you to take, waiting patiently for you to grasp it back. Yet, all you did was keep your head down, hiding your farouche expression unable to hear his sooth voice, blocking everything out.

Kirishima wanted to be there for you, someone like you shouldn’t feel pain, so when Kirishima gathered you in his arm you couldn’t hold back the sobs that broke free from your dry throat. You cling to his uniform, begging him why. Kirishima cradled you in his arms, unable to answer your pleas. He too didn’t know why you were being harrassed and pick on, the only answer he could come to think of was “I think they’re just jealous of you, i mean… look at you and your quirk. I don’t think i’ve ever seen someone radiate such beauty before, but don’t worry. I Kirishima Eijirou promise to keep you safe and out of harms way!”

It’s been awhile since you’ve felt so at ease, it was almost as if he lifted a heavy load off of your back. You quirk gathered around the both of you, in a shielding manner. Both you and Kirishima were enclosed by your iridescent wing like energy while he rocks you, one hand cradling your head as it laid on his shoulder while his other hand laid hard against the small of your back. “I’m ____-____.”

Kirishima tugs you closer, clinging to you tightly, as if he’s afraid that you’ll disappear if he lets you go. Cradling you in his arms, his breath warm against the wet stain of your cheek. “Hey, ____. I’m going to get you switched into my class… I don’t know how, but i’m going to do it! I just have this gut feeling that you’re supposed to be with me… I me-mean! I meant you, uh! I meant you belong next to me! Wai-wait! That’s not what i-” The smallest giggle escaped from your swollen lips. Kirishima was a blushing mess until hearing your giggle, looking over he saw your lighthearted eyes glistening at him. “Kirishima, thank you. I haven’t felt this wholesome in a while.” Your quirk was now descending back into your shoulders, “Im so sorry i cut you earlier, when i’m upset it’s hard to control my quirk, you didn’t deserve that.” Kirishima grinned at you, “Look, you only got me a little, see.” Showing you his hand you saw there there was a paper thin cut, but you knew that your quirk was capable of more so how was this cut so small. That’s when it happened, his hand hardened right before you eyes.

“My quirk is hardening so i was able to protect myself before it became worse. Now, whaddaya say we get you transferred somehow to my class! That way we can always stick together.”

Kirishima held his hand out to you once more as he stood up, only this time you grasped it back tightly this time around. The two of you smiling at one another as if you were both meant to be. Kirishima gave you a large grin, flashing all his sharp teeth at you.

It never occurred to you that years later you would be at Kirishima’s side, both working as pro hero’s, but it especially never occurred to you that all those years ago you were being held by your future husband, that it was your future husband who had come looking for you on the roof. After transferring to class 1-A Kirishima your then, future husband had help you learn to control your quirk and after that the rest was history.

~ admin Kiwi xo

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