#sorry the lighting sucks but also I’m not getting up to turn the overhead light on I’m COZYMODE. its pink not red jsdhksfkj

[sanchoyo]

can we please have a picture of the live laugh love mr. worldwide banner? i'm so curious by your description of it

Oh of COURSE

I have no idea why someone would donate this to a thrift store bc I would Never get rid of him. He is next to my bed to protect me while I sleep :)

#sorry the lighting sucks but also I’m not getting up to turn the overhead light on I’m COZYMODE. its pink not red jsdhksfkj #I’m sure u can find this on redbubble or smth it’s a very. internet object yk #I have a LOT of weird little thrifted items like this around my room :3 this is possibly top five material tho #sanchoyoanswersasks #hope u love him as much as I do #also he’s huge the pic doesn’t do the scale of this thing justice I swear lol #I was shocked to find him in My Small Town….how did he get here what’s his STORY #theres a small blue paint splat on him too..who did that #im leaving it on of course bc it has character

[mattscoquette]

“ 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝜗𝜚 “

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: stoner!matt x girly!fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you need to get your mind off things, so you call matt for a midnight smoke sesh. inspired by this post by @v1xyboy9

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut (no actual sex), oral (male receiving), fingering, thigh riding, use of pet names, weed, smoking, no use of y/n

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.9k

𝐚/𝐧: HAPPY 4/20!!!!! this is kinda short sorry but i thought it was too long to be a little blurb so here u go 😝😝😝 i wrote and edited this today before i went into work so sorry if it’s kinda bad 😭😭 i also haven’t smoked in SO LONG lol so sorry if i wrote anything wrong. hope u all enjoy !! love u all sm <33 also thank u for 500!!

xoxo ₊˚⊹ ୨ৎ

⋆。˚ ౨ৎ

the low thudding of the bass coming from matt’s car speakers filled your ears as you watched him rolling a joint, his eyes squinted and tongue poking out. his brown hair flopped into his blue irises as he fixed all of his attention into rolling you the most perfect blunt for your first. you played anxiously with your fingers as they sat in your lap atop your white pleated skirt matched with a baby pink sweater, a contrast to matt’s grey sweats and black tank top. his silver chain dangling from his neck caught the overhead light from the car, a quick beam of the reflection catching your eye. matt looked up at you as you flinched

“you okay, princess?”

“matt,” you whined, blushing, “stop calling me that.”

matt smirked, returning to the rolling tray on the center console in between you too. “sorry princess”

“matt!”

you and matt were mutual friends. you met him a couple times at parties you were dragged to by your friends, only sharing quick greetings with one another. he did, however, always have a cloud of smoke around him and joint rolled tightly that he kept tucked behind his ear. the past couple of weeks, you’ve been overly worried about school, your upcoming exams, and life itself, for that matter. your friends suggested you tried smoking to try to calm your nerves, and matt was the first person you thought of. so here you were, sitting in the passenger seat of his car while it was parked at the beach, watching a boy you barely knew roll up weed.

“ta-daa” you heard matt sing out, holding up the newly rolled joint between his fingers. you turned your body towards matt, looked at it curiously, taking the paper from matt’s hands and examining it.

“it’s just weed, princess, i’m not trying to kill you,” he spoke, ducking his head down a little to try and get your gaze back on him. he giggled when he say your facial expression at the nickname. “here, i’ll light first.” matt said, extending his arm out for you to place the joint back in his hands.

matt leaned his seat back a little, relaxing, as you watched as he placed the papers in between his pink lips, bringing the lighter up to set the end aflame. he inhaled deeply, opening his mouth a moment later to allow thick white smoke to come out. he took a couple more hits like this, then passing it over to you.

“just suck in and inhale,” he told you, watching as you brought the joint up to your mouth, “it may burn a little.”

you nodded, bringing it in between your lips and doing as matt said. upon first inhale, you immediately coughed up smoking, handing the joint back over to matt as you reached for your water bottle in the cup holder. he laughed, rubbing your back as you were hunched over, coughing your lungs out. “you’re okay, it’ll get easier as we go.”

you nodded again, taking a large sip of water. matt inhaled a couple more times then handed it back to you. you gulped, trying once more to inhale the weed.

“don’t suck in as much this time, princess,” matt said, earning a glare from you. he laughed, and you brought the joint up to your glossed lips, placing it in between them and doing as matt said. “good! now inhale.” he cheered, you complying and blowing out a cloud of white smoke. you repeated this action a few more times, passing it to matt once more.

“sorry i got my lipgloss on the blunt.” you apologized meekly, looking at matt.

“you’re okay.” he smiled, taking a deep inhale of the weed.

you two passed the joint back and forth until it ran out, already starting to feel the affects of the weed a little. you watched matt intently as he inhaled, letting smoke pour out of his mouth as he examined the blunt as it came to his end.

“do you trust me, princess?” he asked, his blue eyes, now slightly red, meeting yours. you nodded. matt smiled, sucking in the last of the burning weed, and brought his hand up to the back of your neck. he pulled you into him across the center console, his mouth mere inches from yours. his nose filled with the scent of your vanilla perfume, his thumb moved to your bottom lip, opening your mouth up. he leaned in, blowing the large cloud of smoke into your mouth. your eyes fluttered closed, inhaling the smoke that was just in matt’s mouth. you leaned back a little, letting the white clouds leave your smiling lips.

you both giggled, feeling the weed starting to kick in now.

˳·˖ 𓂃✧

a good forty five minutes had passed now, and you and matt both leaned your seats back, looking up at the stars through the open sunroof of his car. you two were currently discussing if goofy was a dog.

“matt,” you laughed, turning your head to look at him, “how can he not be a dog?”

“because,” he sighed as he brought his hands up to rub his eyes, “he wears a hat and drives a car! plus, pluto’s a dog, and he’s mickey mouse’s pet.”

he brought his hands off his eyes, meeting your gaze. you shared a look for a moment, before bursting into a fit of laughter. “that’s weird,” you admitted through giggles, “what the hell is goofy?” you both continued laughing hysterically, matt even leaning over and clutching his sides.

after calming down finally, you and matt both continued talking, matt looking over at you every couple minutes to steal glances at you. the blunt had smudged off some of your lip gloss, but your constant sips of water kept you pink lips shiny. your sweater had tugged off your shoulder a little, exposing the white lace of your bra strap. the later it got, the more you slid down in your seat, and the more your skirt rode up. matt looked at your bare thighs, his imagination running wild at the thought of what they’d feel like wrapped around his head. he closed his eyes and sighed, trying to ignore the twitching he felt in his dick.

you noticed matt’s behavior changing a little. “you okay, matty?” you lightly rasped, your throat beginning to run dry from the laughing and burning feeling that still lingered a little. the sound of your voice went right to his dick, the bulge in his sweats growing more.

“yeah,” he exasperated, unable to keep his eyes from running up and down your body, his lips parted slightly as he sucked in a deep breath. you turned your body to look at the boy, bringing your one leg up to sit on it as you peered over at matt. his chest heaved up and down, breathing heavy while you noticed his now hard erection poking out of his sweatpants.

“matt,” you began, inching closer to him as your hands moved to hold your knee against your chest. “do you want help?”

he looked at you, his pupils blown out and eyes red and hazy. he nodded slowly, watching while you cupped his bulge over his pants, palming him slightly.

“shit, princess,” he groaned, tilting his had back and his eyes screwing shut, his hips bucking up into your hand involuntary. you continued to press down lightly on his dick, before running your freshly done nails up to the waist band, dipping your hand below his boxers. you wrapped your hand around his dick, pumping him beneath his sweatpants. you ran your thumb back and forth across the tip, your fingers becoming coaxed in his precum. you pulled your hand out, sucking it off your fingers while giving matt doe eyes.

you repositioned yourself in the seat, so you were now sitting on your knees. you leaned over to matt, ducking yourself down to pull his boxers and pants down mid-thigh. his dick sprang free, red and throbbing. you gave matt one last glance before taking his cock in your hands, kitten licking around the tip. he moaned, his head thrown back as he moved his tattooed arm to hold the back of your head lightly. you teased him for a few minutes, giving small licks and kisses to his dick, earning whines from the boy. you flattened your tongue across his cock before deciding to lick a stripe up his length. you licked your way back down to the tip, taking his dick into your mouth. matts hips jolted up into you, his dick going further down your throat. you bobbed your head up and down halfway before fulling taking him, gagging on his cock.

“fuck, princess, just like that.” matt sighed, guiding you by the back of your neck up and down on his dick. you moved your hand up to cup his balls as you continued to deep throat him, your tongue swirling around his dick. “’m so close, don’t stop baby.”

you felt matt’s free hand to move up and cup your ass underneath your skirt, giving it a hard squeeze. you moaned, the vibration sending chills throughout his entire body, drawing matt closer to his orgasm. he held your head against his dick, bucking his hips into you as you flicked your tongue across his tip. he groaned lowly, drawing out a long “fuckkk.” his hips grinded slowly as he came, shooting white spurts of cum down your throat. you licked him clean, kissing his tip before pulling off, opening your mouth to show him you swallowed.

you sat up, his hand still under your skirt as he breathed heavily and met your gaze. he brought your lips into a messy kiss with his, while he pulled you onto his lap, straddling his one thigh. he squeezed your ass then gave it a light smack, causing you to gasp. this invited matt to stick his tongue in your mouth, tasting himself. your tongues clashed around each other, exploring this insides of each others mouths as he began to grind your hips against his leg. matt moved his lips from your mouth to your neck, leaving hard kisses down to your exposed collarbone. you moaned, continuing to rut your hips against matt’s thigh, trying to gain some sort of friction.

“do you want help?” matt mumbled into your neck, mimicking your words from earlier. you whined in response, feeling matt’s thumb dip below your panties, rubbing in small circles at your clit.

“shit,” you gasped, wrapping your hands around his neck as your hips continued to rock. you both looked down at the sight of matt’s fingers going to work underneath the white lace of your underwear.

“feel good, princess?” matt teased, holding your waist firmly. you nodded, pressing your lips to his once more. you two exchanged quick, yet sloppy, kisses back and forth, moaning into one another’s mouths as you felt matt’s teeth catch your bottom lip, biting down slightly then running his tongue along it. you grinded down in circles against matt’s fingers and thigh, bringing yourself closer to your undoing as your stomach began to tighten. his hand moved back down to your ass, gripping it hard as he kept your hips grinding into him. you moaned, feeling yourself let go all over matt’s fingers, riding yourself slowly against his thigh as you came down from your orgasm.

you pulled away, the windows beginning to fog from the body heat you two emitted. the music still played quietly in the background as you tried to regain your breath. matt brought his fingers up from underneath your panties, bringing them up to his mouth and sucking the arousal off. “we should smoke together more often, princess.”

Ⓒ 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄 | taglist

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬:

@alorsxsturn @sturniolossss @cammie4298 @bussybandit1 @amorttentia @franticroads @sturnsssbow @cams5sos @strombolilovr @st7rnioioss @junnniiieee07 @mattscurlygirly @simply-a-simper @sturnrc @sturnifyed @freshlovie @imwetforyourmom @69isabella69 @mattsturnxoxo @stonermattsgf @pettydollie @fawnchives

#𐙚 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ #‧₊˚ 𓂃 𝜗𝜚 #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #Spotify

[beababoobies]

can you write for a vox x fem! reader for an enemies to lovers?

for sure! Sorry this one’s a lil shorter, I have no clue how to write enemies to lovers.. but I tried for y’all! Also, Just for setting purposes, I made Reader the overlord of basically just, hell’s music. Thought that might be a good rivalry dhdkdjsid. :) 

Battery-Powered Love

Vox X Fem!Overlord!Reader. words : 1k warning for slight manipulation.

You let out an impatient sigh as you check your watch. You had been called to this stupid fucking meeting - which you didn’t want to go to, because god knows how much you hate the Vees. But not a single one had shown up - not even the one you could slightly tolerate, 

Velvette. Not even Valentino - god knows he was up to other than torturing Angel - and you hoped to Satan that it would be anyone but Vox. Anyone but Vox would be okay. An assistant telling you that you got your schedules mixed. Maybe even just a flat out no show. That would be fine. 

But just as you thought that - a swing of the door pulled you out of your thoughts, and as you looked up, just to your luck, the flat-screen TV of a man you loved despised more than you’d ever be able to express in a business setting was greeting you with the smuggest, ugliest, most shit-eating grin you’d seen on his face in a while. This meant one of two things. Bad news, you owed him something, or He wanted something from you and was trying to play nice. 

“Good Afternoon, My Friend!” He said as he pulled out a chair opposite to you, resting his clasped hands on the table, putting on that insufferably fake classy act on. Like he didn’t want to shoot a bullet through your dead stare. Because he believed in reputation. Having a reputation in hell is like having a designer bag to carry your groceries. You don’t need it, no one actually cares if you have a one, but it makes you feel more special. You grimaced. 

“You’re already ten minutes late, Vox.” You said with a sigh, putting your feet up on the table lazily, leaning back with a tilt of your head, arms crossed to your chest. “Get on with it. I actually have things to do.” You snarled out, sighing as you leaned your head back on the chair, refusing to actually look him in his digital eyes, opting to stare at the stupid ceiling instead.

“Well, you are quite forward today, aren’t you?” He said with a small chuckle, trying to suck up his own ego for his professional reputation. He may have power, but you hold at least a quarter of his everything under your own music. He swallows thickly before continuing, adjusting his bow tie and straightening out.

“As you know, Alastor is back in town. So we- “ he started with bated breaths, before you promptly interrupted him with a snort. “Okay, I’m gonna stop you right about there.” You said with a chuckle as you let your eyes fall back on him, raising your eyebrows, tilting your head. “I am not getting involved with him. I have records to sell. I have an afterlife to live, until at the very least the next extermination.” You said with a heavy sigh, pulling your feet off the table and standing up, hands still crossed tight over your chest. 

“The reason I’m not dead is because I can recognize when someone can fucking kill me, Vox.” You continued, making your way to the door, turning back to look at him while you spoke. “If you expect me to-“ and it’s your turn to get cut off as he stands up as well, doing his off-putting electricity thing, teleporting from the security camera right in front of the doors, blocking your path. 

“Tsk-tsk-tsk, you’re so quick to assume.” He chuckles, rolling his eyes playfully. “I don’t want you to go and fight him, darling.” You grimace as he starts with the pet names, rolling your eyes and staring at the floor, refusing to look him in the face again. “I want you to silence out his… propaganda.” He hums as you try to walk away from his bickering and nonsense, only to have him teleport straight back in front of you using the overhead light on the ceiling, causing you to stumble back slightly.

“That’s getting involved. A path to getting my screams played for everyone in this circle of hell to hear? No.” You say flatly, grimacing at him as he chuckles darkly, leaning on one hip as he looks you up and down, smiling. “But there’s so much we could offer you.” He starts as you try to walk away from him again, just to bump straight first into his chest all over again. 

“Maybe you could become one of the Vees. Valentino, Velvette, Vox, Y/N… you just have to think of a new, catchier name.” He says with a small sarcastic giggle, leaning down and looking at you with those stupid droopy eyes he always used when he wanted something out of you. The reason you always refused to look at him properly. You snapped your head away quickly, running for the door.

Running straight back into him. 

“You can’t just try to fucking - seduce me into doing your bidding! Jesus - fuck!” You groaned as you ran straight back into him, starting to fall onto your back, before he grabbed your hand, pulling you up and against him, one hand tightly on the curve of your waist, smiling down at you. 

“I’m not trying to seduce you for this in particular.” He said as you looked up at him with wide eyes and a small panicked expression, trying to think of a way out as blush spread across your cheeks, trying to pull your hand away from his to no avail. “I have much better reasons for seducing you, love.” He hums out, and you shut your eyes tight. 

Don’t fall for his trap. For your own sake. Don’t. 

“C’mon, give me a try, love” he purrs out, and you decide you at the very least have to assert some sort of dominance in this situation - you can’t get your way out of his terrifying grips - you can’t stop looking in his eyes - and so you do the last thing you wanted to - or maybe the thing you’ve been wanting to do ever since he walked in.

You pulled him down by his arm, lips pressed right against his, almost getting shocked by the electricity flowing rapidly though his veins, his own eyes wide - before closing them slowly. That was the absolute last thing he expected you to do - but he isn’t complaining. Tugging your harder again him, smiling against your lips. You pulled back, breathing heavily.

“I’m guessing that’s a yes, darling.” 

#hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #vox #vox x reader #vox x you #hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin hotel #hellaverse

[ourtearsofrain]

Feel Good (D.R.W)

Summary: You help your boyfriend release some energy after a long day.

Pairings: Danny Wagner x reader

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff

Word Count:  3.2k

Warnings: cussing, smut (18+ minors DNI), oral (M receiving), M!sub 

A/N: Could not get the image of Danny looking like this as you suck him off out of my head so I had to write something. Also, please read the smut psa section in my masterlist post!

As your boyfriend smashed out his last drum solo of the night on the stage far in front of you, signaling the end of Highway Tune, lights began flashing as his brothers added to the cacophony of sound by playing random notes on their bass and guitar, the crowd erupting into a roar of cheers. With one final “Thank you everyone, and goodnight!” from Josh, the lights cut from a fiery red to a deep blue, and the four men waved their goodbyes as they set their instruments down and walked off stage. As soon as the stage was clear, the arena’s overhead lights came flickering back on, basking the crowd in bright white light as people shuffled their way towards the exits. You held back, figuring you were in no rush and the security would give you less trouble as you made your way backstage after the swarms of dedicated fans asking for copies of the set list had died down.

After 10 minutes, you figured enough people had left and began your decent to the floor, beginning to regret your decision to sit in the nosebleeds directly across from the stage as you attempted to step around the pools of spilled beer splashed across the stairs. Danny had offered you a spot at barricade, front and center directly in front of him, or off to the side of the stage in the wing, but you had declined both offers. You didn’t want to spend not only the entire opening act as well as the show, but also an hour before the show started, cramped in between screaming fans that had camped out the night before to get those spots, or chance being in people’s videos and pictures as you watched from the wing.

You made your way across the arena floor towards the barricade and show your backstage pass to a security guard standing by the gate; he takes it and lets you pass after thoroughly examining it for longer than you thought necessary. You make your way through the twists and turns of the corridors, attempting to remember where the dressing rooms were, eventually giving up and asking a stagehand to point you in the right direction. After thanking her profusely, you make your way towards where you hoped she had said they were.

Too lost in thought attempting to remember the exact instructions given to you, you suddenly run head first into Sam as he exits his dressing room in a hurry. “Shit, I am so sorry.” He starts, not realizing who he ran into. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Wow don’t sound excited or anything, good to see you too Sammy. Great show tonight.”

“Sorry, I don’t mean to sound disappointed that its you or anything.” Pressing his fingertips into his forehead firmly, he squeezes his eyes shut and sighs. Opening them again he continues, “And thanks, although your boyfriend seems to think otherwise. He’s being a real piece of work right now so just tread lightly. You looking for him?”

“Yeah, I am actually. Could you point me in the right direction? I cant seem to find my way around this place at all tonight. And wait, what do you mean? What’s wrong with Danny?”

“I think he tried a new brand of drumsticks for tonight’s show and they kept breaking, something about them being ‘Cheap pieces of shit’. I don’t know, he was pretty fed up after his third pair snapped at the very end of Highway Tune.” He begins walking away from you backwards, towards where you thought the performer’s entrance must be. “Anyways, I’m too tired right now to try and talk to him more so, and I mean this with all the love in my heart, he’s your problem now. His dressing room is 2 doors back, good luck.”

You throw a weak smile in his direction as he continues backpedaling. “Thanks Sammy, goodnight.”

“Night kid.” And with that, he turns around and disappears down the corridor.

Walking over to the door Sam had said belonged to Danny, you take a deep breath, attempting to release all the tension from your body before bringing your fist up to the wood and knocking three times. “Who is it?” You hear your boyfriend’s voice snap, although muffled by the barrier between the two of you you noticed he sounded strained and angry.

“Just me love, can I come in?” You ask softly, hoping your calm responses and tone will help deescalate your boyfriend’s mood, or at least not further frustrate him.

“It’s unlocked.” He replies, and you try the handle, slowly opening the door to find Danny standing in front of the dressing room’s vanity, still shirtless after the show and bent at the waist to look in the mirror, aggressively scrubbing at his eyes with a makeup wipe.

“Hey hey hey love slow down, you’re going to rub your skin raw.” You say as you close the door behind yourself and briskly make your way over to him, grabbing his hand to stop his attack at the smudged makeup surrounding his eyes. “Let me help you, sit down please.” As he follows your instructions, taking a seat in a chair closest to the vanity, you grab a new wipe, leaning down and cupping the side of his face with one hand as you begin to gently take his ruined eyeshadow off.

Closing both of his eyes, he lets out a long sigh, and you can see his body relax under your touch. After a few quiet minutes, he says, “Thank you.”, voice barely above a whisper.

“Of course, love." You discard the used wipe and grab a new one to begin on the other eye. "I ran into Sam in the hall, he told me about the drumsticks. I’m sorry they were frustrating tonight, is there anything else bothering you, or was it just that?”

He takes a sharp breath in, irritation painting his features as he recalls the events of that day. “It was that and its just been a long day. The twins have been bickering all day over the smallest things, and I think Sam has been instigating for entertainment. Either that, or he can’t read a fucking room. I’m running on like 5 hours of interrupted sleep, so I guess I have been more easily agitated. Like I said, it’s just been a long, frustrating day.” He opens his eyes after you finish wiping the last of his makeup off, tossing the stained wipe into a nearby trash can and taking a seat in his lap, straddling him. You place your hands on his shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze as he brings his hands up to your hips. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to complain about everything today. Really, I’m alright now.”

“It’s alright, I don’t mind listening, and I appreciate you telling me what’s bothering you. Is there anything I can do to help?”

He sighs, letting his forehead fall forward to your shoulder. “No, I don’t think so. Venting helped, like I said I’m alright now. Just want to get back to the hotel and take a hot shower.”

You move one hand to the back of his head, and begin lightly smoothing your hand over his hair, playing with some of his curls. “Alright, then let’s get your things and head back to the hotel. You can take a nice hot shower, and then we can curl up together and pass out. How does that sound love?”

“M’not tired.” He mumbles into your shoulder. Pulling away, he looks at you with a slightly defeated expression. “You’d think I would be after getting shitty sleep and having a long day but, as much as I want to, I don’t know if I would be able to sleep any time soon. I don’t know, I feel like I still have so much pent-up energy left over, I need to do something to get it out.”

As you look down at your boyfriend beneath you, you remember how you felt tonight whenever the screens on either side of the stage showed him; how the light caught his sweat-soaked skin, how his arms looked as he played, how his tongue poked out from behind his teeth whenever he was caught up in the music, and how he threw his head back, mouth open as if an unheard moan was escaping him, as he pounded out the finale. A mischievous smile crosses your face as you bring your hand at the back of his head back down to his shoulder and continuing its decent, joined by your other hand as you slowly run them down his pecs and out to his sides. They come to a stop on his hips, just above his belt. You lean forward until your lips are centimeters away from his. “I think I know how we can fix that.” you whisper, lips brushing his.

“Oh? And what-“ he starts, before you cut him off with a searing kiss. As the kiss becomes more desperate, his hands grip your hips and you grind your hips down onto him, causing his mouth to fall open slightly as he lets out a quiet moan. You draw back, letting your eyes roam over him, from his flushed cheeks and blown out pupils, down his chest, and eventually landing on the area of his metallic pants just below his belt buckle that's becoming more and more strained by the second. You bring your gaze back up to meet his, as he looks at you with a needy want painted across his face.

He clears his throat, attempting to clear his head as well. “How about we… uh how about we head back to the hotel now and… and continue this there?” he breathily stutters out.

You lean forward once more, catching his lips with your own quickly. Keeping your face mere inches from his own, you reply, “Sounds like a plan.”, voice laced with desire. You stand up and begin collecting his belongings scattered around the room, finding a sweater and tossing it towards him, still seated in the chair. “Well?” you ask expectantly, “Are we leaving or not?”

He zones back in, having been lost in his thoughts of what you could possibly have in store for him, and frantically pulls the sweater on, getting up from the chair and making his way to the door with you by his side. “You sure you don’t want to change into sweats or something?” you question, letting out a small laugh of amusement from how eager he was to leave the arena.

“Nope, I’m alright.” He insists, despite his failed attempt at discreetly loosening his pants by pulling down on the fabric at his crotch.

“Alright,” you shrug, “Your choice.” He holds the door open for you and as you pass him you lean in, whispering, “Doesn’t matter much anyways; they’ll be coming off sooner or later.”, continuing out the door and towards the hallway you had seen Sam go down earlier.

“You coming love?” Looking back you see Danny still standing in the doorway, face flushed and lips slightly parted. He snaps his attention back to you and nearly slams the door, quickly making his way to your side, slotting his hand into yours as you exit the arena.

-

The second the door to your room closed and both of your shoes are kicked to the side, your hands are planted firmly on his chest, shoving him against the nearest wall. He lets out a surprised gasp before you connect your lips with his, one of his hands coming up to tangle in your hair and the other on your lower back, pressing you flush against his front. You playfully bite down on his lower lip and feel his hardening dick twitch as he lets out a groan. Your hands roam downwards to the hem of his sweater, and your lips leave his long enough for you to pull it off his arms and over his head. He replaces his hands on you as you begin nipping at the sensitive skin on his neck, eliciting a soft sigh as Danny leans his head back until it hits the wall behind him.

You start to trail your lips down his neck, over his collarbone, between his pecs, and down the center of his abdomen, stopping yourself on your knees at the base of his happy trail, just above where he needs you most. With his chest already rising and falling rapidly with shallow anticipatory breaths, you slowly run your hand from where it rested just above his knee upwards along the top of his thigh. It comes to a stop on his dick, and you run your hand back and forth over it, squeezing gently. His moan is followed by a breathy “Please...”. You stand and bring your lips to the shell of his ear, relishing in his small shiver from your breath on his skin.

“Please what?”

“You…” he pants, “You know what. Stop teasing.” You turn away from him, beginning to walk across the room, leaving him whining at the loss of contact. He grabs your wrist, stopping you about a foot away from the bottom of the bed. “No, wait!” he sighs. “Please… please make me feel good, love.”

You turn, giving him a wolfish grin. “Now, was that so hard?” Pulling him towards you, you turn the two of you and lightly push him towards the bed, causing the back of his knees to hit the base of it. You move your hand to his cheek, holding the sharp edge of his jaw and bring his face towards yours, keeping your eyes locked on his blown-out pupils. “Don’t worry baby, I’m going to make you feel so good.” you whisper before shoving him backwards onto the bed.

He lands on his back and slowly moves up until his head is resting against the headboard as he’s propped up on his elbows, one leg bent at the knee. You gradually make your way up the bed on your hands and knees, coming to a stop between his legs as you begin another attack on his lower abdomen, lightly sinking your teeth into the soft flesh there before soothing the sting with soft kisses. His fists grip the sheets as you pull your mouth away and leisurely undo his belt buckle, undoing the button of his pants and drawing the zipper down. You maintain eye contact with him as your hands find his waistband and hook your fingers under the hem of both his boxers and pants, taking your time pulling them down his legs as his cock springs free of its constraints. Once free of his clothes, you grip his thigh with one hand and take him in your hand with the other, causing him to gasp at the contact. You look him in the eyes as you lick a stripe up the underside of him from base to tip, swirling your tongue over his already leaking head. You finally wrap your lips around him, sinking down and taking him all the way despite your gag reflex screaming at you to stop.

“Oh my fucking god.” he moans, squeezing his eyes shut and letting his head fall back. You pull yourself off him completely, causing him to open his eyes in surprise and groan in protest.

“I want your eyes on me until you’re cumming down my throat, got it? You’re not getting shit if I don’t see you watching how good I’m taking you.” You wait for a response, cocking an eyebrow when you don’t get one. “I said, got it?”

“Yes. I got it, I won’t look away I promise. Please keep going.” His whine turns into a loud moan as you sink back down onto him, his cock hitting the back of your throat. You bring your head back up, your hand pumping his base as you hollow your lips around his head, bobbing up and down. He struggles to keep his eyes on you, but keeps his promise as you continue fervently sucking him off, his knuckles turning white as he fists the sheets below him. “Fuck baby, that feels so good.” he gasps as you let out a hum of satisfaction. “Just like that, oh fuck I’m so close.”

You moan at his words, the vibrations sending him over the edge as he screws his eyes shut, his back arching off the bed as his head loudly hits the headboard and he lets out a string of moans and curse words, and you feel his hot release coat the back of your throat. His arms give out and he collapses fully onto his back, panting heavily as you pull off of him, cleaning any remaining cum off him with your tongue.

You move up the bed until you are laying on your side next to him and gently brush a stray strand of hair behind his ear, cradling his cheek with your hand and turning his face towards yours as you place a gentle kiss on his forehead. “How about we go take a shower and get you better cleaned up, love?”

He opens his eyes, squinting at you in blissed-out confusion. “What about you? You took care of me, now it’s your turn to feel good.” he half-whines.

“Tonight was about making you feel good, baby. You’ve had a long day, you need rest. We can cuddle up and fall asleep right after we shower; I’ll be alright tonight, I promise I don’t need anything right now.”

“Fine…” he grumbles. “But I’m gonna repay the favor sometime soon.”

You laugh, “Sounds like a deal.”, gently kissing him before getting off the bed and pulling him to the edge, leaving him sitting there as you strip your own clothes off. Once undressed, he wraps his arms around your abdomen, pulling you in between his legs as he peppers your stomach with soft kisses. You let him, placing your hands in his hair and playing with his curls for a few moments. “Alright, c’mon. Let’s go.” you say as you grab his hands and unwrap him from yourself before tugging him to a stand. You let go of one hand as you make your way towards the bathroom, pulling him along behind you.

You shower in comfortable silence, finally finishing 30 minutes later after frequently interrupting your routines with short, lazy make-out sessions. You dry off and change into your PJ’s, him in nothing but a pair of loose sweatpants, and you in light shorts and one of his T shirts, and complete your nighttime routines side by side. Once finished, Danny crawls into the bed, holding the sheet up for you as you crawl in next to him. He wraps his arms around you, drawing you into his chest in a bear hug and you bring your hands up to rest on his chest, forehead against his collarbone as you tangle your legs together.

You’re the first to break the silence; “Love you.” you say, voice barely above a whisper as your breath fans across his chest.

The last thing you hear before drifting off into a warm, deep sleep is his sleepy response of, “Love you too.”

#fic #greta van fleet #greta van fleet fan fiction #gvf fic #daniel gvf #greta van fluff #greta van smut #gvf smut #danny wagner x reader #smut

[auckie]

Finished my boys back panel for his new apartment. After it cures more I’m gonna install it, then the drainage layer (which I absolutely don’t need) and then the substrate. I was gonna make the bottom water proof but decided to just go with a protective mat instead. I don’t think I’ll be able to take it apart later but maybe it’ll be like. The last thing I ever move idk. Then Ill put up the UVB, his lamp, I miiiight have a heat mat on the bottom just in case but probably won’t ever use it idk, and finally his giant fucking water dish and ugly bottom hide. Then I’ll see if I can fit some of the roof/side climbing limbs I had planned. Was gonna drill them in but I don’t think the pvc will allow for it. I might try more foam/silicone *and* a bit of drilling, but we’ll see. Then the top leaf coverage (silk plants lol), and finally his giant cork log. I was also planning on putting some tiling over his ugly hide, or just replacing it completely bc he has the wall one plus the log. I also gotta test the weight capacity of the wall log tomorrow after curing. It’s resistant to heavy tugging, and he really doesn’t weigh *that* much but you never know the kind of stress he might put on it. It’s low to the ground so it wouldn’t be catastrophic but it would be difficult to fix. Eventually I would like to go full naturalistic and add plants and bio active substrate. Moving water is beyond my skill capacity/willingness to learn or spend so the static dish will have to do, but I am interested in a mister even tho I know it’s not necessary. He’s been doing well with my humidifier and just some sprays, wet corners, and the dish, but if I do pursue plants it may be crucial. Granted I know scale rot is something people warn about but I figure if I keep it high then I can avoid laden substrate. Plus the drainage layer would help.

I even bought a kitchen scale to weigh him. I was gonna get a temp gun too but that’s kinda absurd since I got like, two different humidity gauges and a temp regulator + thermometer. if I have room I may also try a slight rock border at the bottom of the back panel but I’m not really like. Interested in using foam again, either panel or expanding. Bc it sucks and i despise it. Silicone too honestly, even the aquarium rated stuff which is easier (imo) to get off skin. My dad REALLY wanted to use caulk but I was like hell no. I’ll resort to shelf pins/rivets for support before I try that lol.

I just scrolled up and realized the pic is so dark bc I just turned the overhead light off and didn’t have flash on but I’m so tired and sweaty I don’t care. It’s a cork bark/spanish moss/sphagnum moss back wall but it does just look like a mess of leaves and shit from the pic. I started really clean and then got progressively sloppier as time went on

Here’s a before progress pic SORRY for foot

And here’s snoopert head. He’s getting upgraded from 60 gallon to 120. Tbh if I had the room and money I’d totally have gotten the 240 one

Fuck snoopy

[bettysupremacy]

Battle of the bands

Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader

Requested by: @sydshea thank you so much!! This idea was adorable.

Summary: Eddie and Y/N hate each other, but what happens when they’re forced to see each other daily because of 4 meddling pre-teens?

Warnings: mentions of food and going hungry, cursing, fem! Reader, Max and R are close, some angst, mostly fluff I’d say. Tell me if I missed any!

A/N: i love max mayfield, also, I’m scared to post this.

6.6k words.. I went overboard.

The orange overhead lights reflect down on the dingy bar, buzzing and flickering from old age. It casts shadows on the grime of the establishment, the years of muck Miss Lee can’t wipe away with a wet dish rag. But it’s also what makes this bar so familiar, homelike, with its flaws.

Even so, The Hideout isn’t at peak homeliness right now, not with two indignant voices cutting through the quiet of closing time.

“You’re so full of shit, Munson.”

“I’m full of shit?” He scoffs, “we clearly won that.”

The argument playing out is futile. She won, he didn’t, and he can’t accept it. There’s nothing he can say or do that’ll change it. Most customers have left though, so Eddie doesn’t feel as bad for the public conniption he’s having right now.

“You’re such a sore loser, it hurts to watch.”

“I am not a sore loser-“

“Then what is this, Edward?” She thrusts her hand between them, back and forth, as if the argument will materialize before them. He always hated when she used his full name. “You’re such a great sport that the moment I get off stage you’re demanding my win- my bands win, was a rig?”

He takes a step back. It sounds so cruel coming out of her mouth. And wasn’t he being cruel? Following her around demanding she admit his set, that had significantly less covers, was better then hers. They had never been outright friends, but damn, couldn’t he have just been happy for her?

“No, I-“

Arms wrap around Y/N from the back, squeezing her in childlike glee. She blinks from being pulled out of the argument, not from the unfamiliarity of the arms. She knows who’s warm fidgeting fingers are being pushed Into her stomach.

“You won!” Max’s words come out muffled, face squished into the leather of Y/N’s jacket, but she can still detect the elation in them. It sends waves of warmth through her chest.

This is a rare outing for Max. She had to beg, plead, and bargain with Max to come watch her perform tonight. She refuses to let Eddie Munson ruin this.

She turns in her arms, squishing Max’s cheeks together childishly, watching as Max laughs deep from her chest.

“We won, baby!”

“I could argue with that.”

Her head whips, “Cork it, Munson!”

Max ignores him, arms still wrapped around Y/N’s stomach, chin now digging into the older girls chest.

The wicked smile on Max’s face gives away any secrecy to her schemes. “Can we get celebratory ice cream?”

Y/N yanks on a red pigtail of Max’s. “Who’s paying Maxie?”

“Steve.”

“Oh, then definitely.”

“I heard my name?”

Max is sucked into a conversation with Steve. Quick banter flying back and forth as Max tries to convince Steve that he definitely said he was buying them ice cream earlier.

Y/N notices Eddie from the corner of her eye, grabbing a guitar case, and walking out of The Hideout with the other members of his band. Sad, but none so much as Eddie, they pat backs and mumble reassurances to their oldest member.

Something tugs in her heart. Irritation maybe? But it feels different. There’s more ache and confusion than Irritation. A longing to run out after him and beg for forgiveness.

But what did she have to be sorry for? Winning the local battle of the bands? Doing a better cover of War Pigs than him? No, Eddie could come and apologize on his own time.

“I never said that?”

“Yeah, in the car, while we were passing steel works”

He looks at her unblinking, racking his brain for any sort of memory that backs her up.

“Yeah you did.” Dustin’s voice chimes in, walking up after saying goodbye to Eddie.

Did he really?

“Where were we passing?” He asks skeptical.

“Uh- steel works was it?” Dustin looks to Max for any sign of a hint, shoulders squaring more confidently when she nods profusely at him.

Steve sighs loudly, “Fine, but eat quick and don’t let it drip. I’ve gotta get you shitheads home before curfew and I don’t want my car sticky. Got it?”

Both the children give barely coherent shouts of agreement, before running to Lucas, evidently telling him what they scammed their poor old babysitter into.

Steve turns his head to Y/N, quippy insult towards the kids dead on his tongue when he notices the far look in her eyes. He nudges her with his elbow gently, quietly begging for attention.

“You ready to go? I heard a rumor that I said yes to ice cream while driving past steel works, I’m not sure it’s true though.”

She nods, looping her arm through his.

“What should I get?”

“What ice cream?”

They start walking to the doors. “Mhm.”

“You know what I’m getting.” He looks smirky, and she knows exactly where this is going.

“Don’t say it, Harrington.”

“That eggnog flavor sounds real goo-“

She smothers her hands over his mouth, giggling like a maniac.

“That’s nasty. You’re nasty.”

He licks her palms and a twinge of disgust laces through her giggles. Pulling her hands back quickly, she tries to wipe them on her jeans, but he grabs her wrists gently and wipes her palms on his polo.

“So nasty, I know, I’m sorry.” He’s giggling too.

This was the first time she almost realized her staggering feelings for Eddie Munson.

—

The second time was at sticky hot a pool day.

She’s laying in Steve’s backyard, red bikini on, and matching red heart sunglasses adorning her face. Max lay next to her, in the new purple bathing suit Y/N had bought for her at the mall last week.

The purple makes your hair pop out, she had insisted, so Max let her buy it.

She’d even borrowed purple heart sunglasses from Y/N, sliding them on in the mirror of Steve’s cold bathroom, feeling pleased when she saw how well her and Y/N matched.

When they’d been standing in the kitchen and Y/N had pulled them out of her bag, she said “If you want them, of course.”, like she wasn’t everything Max yearned to be. She had narrowly missed Lucas and Mikes popsicle sticky fingers when they had asked for a look.

“Come in the water?” Lucas yelled out, hopeful and rosy, watching his girlfriend lay a towel next to Y/N. Max gives a curt shake of her head, ruby-red pig tails bouncing and glimmering in the sun.

“I think I’m gonna lay out for a little.” She had her hand up, shielding her eyes from the sun.

And with that, she laid back down, pushed her glasses up, and clicked play on her Walkman, not noticing the disappointment on her boyfriends face.

The older girl watches him swim towards Mike, dejection clear in his shoulders.

She knows that I’ve been doing something wrong, but she won’t say anything.

Y/N wrinkles her nose at Kate Bush again, but ignores it. Max has been putting the money Y/N spent on her new Hounds Of Love cassette to good use.

“He’s cute.”

“Huh?”

“Lucas. He’s sweet on you.”

Mortification sweeps Max’s face.

“What?” Y/N teases, “Haven’t yo-“

Affronted shrieks suddenly bubble past her lips at the feeling of cold water cooling on her warm skin. Max, who had been caught in the crossfire, isn’t as upset as Y/N. The water had felt nice after so long in the sun, but affronted shrieks leave her lips as well.

What if her cherished new purple glasses had been ruined?

Lucas rolls his eyes at his girls obvious display of impersonation.

Eddie stands there in the July sun, entirely too happy with himself, water gun hanging limply at his side.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

She wipes off her lenses with a part of the towel that managed to escape the spray of water, and slides them back on.

“Are your frames wet, baby?” She mutters to Max, waiting for the shake of her head before looking up at him again, offended.

He’s not wearing jeans, she notices.

The black swim shorts with skulls hug his thighs perfectly, cinched at the waist. When he brings a hand to his eyes, squinting at her through the sun, his black Metallica shirt rides up, showing her a very obscene view of his happy trail. The shoes on his feet aren’t his normal reeboks, they’re flip flops. And he’s got a towel tucked under his right arm, the same one he’s got shielding his eyes from the sun. He looks good.

He isn’t blind to the way she checks him out, head to toe, and he isn’t going to let it go unnoticed either. But, a wry “I know I look good, sweetheart.” Is hesitated on his tongue when he looks her up and down himself.

Shit, He thinks, that red bikini.

“Hello?”

He makes slow eye contact with her, and then with Max, who’s looking almost as offended as Y/N.

“I saw an opportunity and took it, Fast Times.”

If Steve had heard him say that.

“Fast Times?” Max asks, confusion threading her eyebrows together.

The boys in the water, save Dustin, are giggling, and embarrassment pools in her belly. Thick and warm. Thick and deep. It rises into her throat like bread rising in an oven, making it hard for her to speak or think of a witty response.

“Wow, nice one John Bender. Is that one original or did we steal it from Steve?” The end of the sentence didn’t sound as mean as she wanted it to sound.

“Your boyfriend Steve?” Eddie scoffs jealously, “If I’m John Bender, who does that make you? L-“

“Hey, hey, hey.” Steve’s voice comes from behind them, “What’s going on out here?”

Both Y/N and Eddie look like deer caught in headlights, two reprimanded children that don’t know what to do with themselves.

Robin is behind him, wearing a black one piece. She was going to lay out with the girls before they got in, but was caught up with Steve in the kitchen.

“Well?”

Max had seen the embarrassment on Y/N’s face when Eddie had given her that nickname. It was weird though. It seemed more like a cat call on his tongue, rather than an insult.

“Steve?” Max ask’s. Everyone looks to her, confusion clear on their faces.

“Yes?”

“What’s Fast Times? Like the movie Fast Times at Ridgemont High?” Innocence seeps and clings onto every word, “Cause Eddie just called Y/N ‘Fast Times’, and I was confused cause I’ve never seen the movie.”

Truth be told, Max actually hadn’t seen it, and she certainly doesn’t know what Pheobe Cates does to her red bikini at 53 minutes 5 seconds. But it seemed derogatory, and she wasn’t having it.

The boys in the water are stifling their laughs now, wet hands grasping at their mouths, as Eddie glares.

“Hey!” Robin points an accusatory finger. “Stop laughing, or I’ll eat the last two purple popsicles myself, and you’ll be left with orange.”

Giggles can no longer be heard.

Steve takes a better look at what Y/N is wearing, to the red bathing suit that’s still clinging to her. The cough he covers up is noticiable.

Is he kidding? Robin is disgusted.

“Nice one, Steve.”

“I didn’t even do anything.” He has the gall to give her a bewildered look.

Eddie takes this as a chance to peak at the crimson polyester again. Fuck.

He looks away, an abashed pink blotching onto his cheeks.

“Really?” Steve asks Eddie.

He doesn’t know if he’s referring to the joke or the way he just eyed Y/N, but he’s going to assume the latter, because of the sickened look on Robs face.

“It was a joke! Way t’rat me out, Red.”

“Don’t blame this on the kid.”

She smiles pridefully.

“Not around the kids. I’m serious.”

He turns back and walks into his house again, hand on his hip the whole way there.

And like that, the quick moments where Y/N may have thought she felt something for Eddie were gone. Gone with the 30 minutes of peace she had before he showed up.

—

The third time, her obliviousness smacked her so hard in the face, she stumbled back.

Hot summer days in Hawkins almost always mean you have plans, especially when you’re the co parent of four fifteen year-olds.

Dustin and Lucas had been on her doorstep 8am sharp, rattling off day plans loudly, like it was well into the afternoon.

“-And we figured, after we pick up Mike-“

“And Max.” Lucas chimes in.

Dustin turns his head, looking personally victimized.

“You didn’t let me finish my sentence, if you had-“

“I was just reminding you.”

“I didn’t need reminding. Don’t do tha-“

Their bickering continues, back and forth, back and forth, as Y/N rubs sleep from her eyes with the back of her hand.

“Are you even listening to anything we’re saying?” Dustin and Lucas look at her, accusation clear in their eyes.

The slow tired eyes blinking back at them confirm it, she hadn’t been listening.

“It’s okay,” Dustin starts politely, “I’ll just tell you the plan from the beginning. So-“

“No! No, no, no,” She sticks her hand out to quiet him, “I got the part where-“ she pauses, “And then you said-“ another pause and eye rub, “Yeah, so just pick up from the part where we pick up Maxie.”

They stare at her in bewilderment, and her chest tightens with doubt. They didn’t say anything about Max, did they?

“You said we’re picking up Max, didn’t you-?”

Dustin cuts her off, “No, yeah, so basically-“ he rattles off the day plans again, pausing in increments to make sure he’s still got her attention.

She invites them inside in the middle of Dustin’s monologue, watching the way he doesn’t break his talk as both boys toe off their shoes well-manneredly, before walking deeper into her house, clad in just socks.

“Did you two have breakfast yet?” She asks, hanging around her stairs rails, before she goes upstairs to change.

They both eye her suspiciously.

“Are you offering to cook for us?” Lucas holds back a grimace.

Dustin smacks him in the chest and glares, “We haven’t. We would love it.. if thats what you were offering.”

She looks between the two boys, Lucas’s grimace is peaking through.

“No, I’ll buy you two McDonald’s.” She starts hopping up the stairs, yelling out “They stop serving breakfast at 10am right?”

“Yeah!” Dustin’s excited voice rings out, “And it’s only 8:30!”

Oh joy.

—

“Max orders pancakes with extra syrup on the side, and orange juice.” Lucas whispers in her ear as she pulls up to the drive through.

“Did you just tell me Max’s order?”

“Yeah?” Did he do something wrong? “I-“

“I know Max’s order, Lucas.”

“Oh. Okay, then.” He sits back in his seat, buckling up again as she pulls towards the window.

“Yeah, Lucas,” Mike mocks, “She knows Max’s order.”

“So, I’m gonna drop you guys off at Steve’s before I get Max.” She drives around the building, towards the main road.

“What? Why?”

“You won’t all fit in my car.” It’s a good excuse, she has to admit.

“But-“

“I know you like the way daddy cuts your pancakes, but mommy has to do it today, cause I’m dropping you off at his house first.”

Dustin grumbles.

—

First thing she sees when she pulls up is Max’s Madrid skateboard, abandoned and upside down on the cement path to her home. The yellow wheels more caked with dirt then she remembers them being last time.

She can still hear Max’s staticky voice from months ago. She had called Y/N whining and complaining, in the middle of the night, to tell her how her mother lectured her for leaving it in this very spot.

Come on Max.

She goes out of her way to walk up the crunchy gravel and pick it up, hands scratching at the rough surface of its grip. She flexes her fingers, shifting them uncomfortably. It’s wet, though it hasn’t rained in a week.

Gross.

She takes a peak at her fingers, startled to find different shades of sticky red coating them.

There’s blood on it.

“Max?” She yells, running into the home, fear spiking through her as she thinks about Max alone in here. Alone and hurt. But no one’s home.

“Max?” She yells again, it’s frantic, and cracks halfway through at the way her breathing has picked up. She spins looking for any sign of her.

“Max, baby? Are you outside?” The skateboard is discarded in the grass as Y/N jogs behind the trailer, and then back to the front.

There’s a sob. A choked, struggling sob, from the left end of Eddie’s trailer, and she runs towards it.

“Max-?”

She pauses at the scene before her. Max is propped up against the end of his house, two bloody knees bent so that her arms can hug around them, while Eddie crouches to console her.

“She told me to be more careful, Y/N told me not to skate on the gravel.” Her shoulders are shaking so hard Eddie brings a hand to one, giving it some pressure like that’ll help. “I should’ve listened, I should’ve- she’s going to be so mad.”

“What?” Eddie asks, teasing tone peaking through unwillingly, “She won’t be mad. She’ll get really concerned, and have that look on her face- you know the one?”

“The one where she?” Max mimics a face, humoring him, but Y/N can’t see it.

“Yes!” He takes his hand back, to stick it over his stomach as he laughs. “And she’ll be really bossy to everyone who isn’t you, and take my shitty bandaid job off to clean your battle wounds diligently.”

The mention of her cuts has Max looking down at her throbbing palms for the first time.

“My hands.” Max sobs, sticking her palms out for Eddie to inspect. She can’t see, but judging by the look on his face, they’re just as bloody as her knees and cheek.

He sucks in air through his teeth, shaking his head morosely, “I’m no doctor, Red, but I’d say amputation is a serious consideration right now.”

Her laugh is a startled half laugh - half sob.

He takes her wrists into his hands gently, blowing on her scrapes lightly. “Does that feel good? Hmm?”

She nods, sniffling, and he lets go of her wrists to grasp at the underside of her knees. It’s a careful inspection, eyes drifting over the damaged and bruised skin.

He blows lightly at her knees too, thumb absentmindedly coming up to brush some dirt away. “Does it hurt?”

She nods again, realizing he can’t see it, and letting her raspy voice mumble “Yes.”

He looks up at her in pity, eyes catching on the checkered scratch bleeding down her cheek and forming in a drip down her chin.

He grabs her chin in his large hand, wiping the blood off with his thumb, and moving her face too the side. “Oh, what are we going to do with you?” He shakes his head.

Standing up, he brushes the blood off on his jeans, before holding his hands out to her.

“Up you go, Pippi Longstocking, can’t you stand?”

Max nods, letting him grab her elbows to avoid the injuries, and pull her up into his grasp.

“I’m gonna get you a water bottle, it’s too hot out here.”

It hits Y/N so suddenly, the ardor.

Hits her harder than the water from Eddie’s water gun. Harder than Steve shoving her into his pool. Harder then the embarrassment of yelling with Eddie in The Hideout.

It bubbles in her stomach like soda, rising into her chest and popping. She brushes her sweaty palms off on her summer shorts, desperately trying to get rid of the tingle embedded in her palms.

She wants this. This domesticity with Eddie. It hurts to think about, she’s been shoving it down for so long it threatens to make her lightheaded.

Watching him treat Max like a China doll. Blowing cold air on her wounds and distracting her from the pain of them. Him telling Max he’s getting her a bottle of water, to stave off dehydration in the Hawkins July sun.

She stumbles back, she needs to get out of here, she can help Max when Eddie gets her to her own home. She can’t face Eddie, not like this. The trash can lid behind her feet lodges under her foot, skewing her balance, throwing her on her ass.

“I know I’m a good doctor, but geez Ladies, get in line.”

She looks up dazed, Jesus fucking Christ, the universe can’t let her have one thing?

“Shit, are you okay?” Eddie drops the act, concern peaking through more.

“Yeah,” She rasps, “I’m.. I’m good.”

Max and Eddie reach her and he holds out a hand. One hand under Max’s armpit, the other being graciously offered to her. She looks at him like she’s seen a ghost.

“I don’t think you’re okay.” He says gently, bending to grab her hand off the hot asphalt. She snatches it. An instinct, rather than rejection. “Nope. You’re feeling fine.” He looks at Max, giving her a crooked grin, wild bewilderment in his eyes.

“Did y’see that, Pip?”

The warmth of a palm against his own makes him flinch. Looking down, she’s got her right hand in his left. It’s hot because of the asphalt below her, but he can’t bring himself to care. The way her fingers are curling gently around his own, tugging in want, is enough to make his head foggy.

“Are you gonna help me up, or what?”

He grips her fingers tighter and pulls her up, staring at their entwined hands. Somethings shifted, and he can feel it.

“Thank you, Dr. Munson.” She can’t look him in the eyes, opting to focus on Max. “C’mon, Maxie. Lets get you cleaned up.”

Her arms are opened wide and Max hobbles into them, letting Y/N guide her to the house. Looking back, Y/N sees that Eddie hasn’t moved. He’s standing in the exact same spot, staring at his left hand.

“Are you coming in?”

He looks up quickly, “You want me to?”

She cant even be offended by the stun in his voice. “Well, someone needs to hold down the patient.”

Max swats her arm. “No one needs to hold me down.”

—

“Stop bleeding, clean, disinfect, bandage. Stop bleeding, clean, disinfect, bandage-“

Y/N try’s to remember the order of treating a wound. Stop bleeding, clean, disinfect, bandage. Or was it stop bleeding, disinfect, clean, bandage?

Eddie throws his head back dramatically, with his hands over his eyes. “Oh my god. Get to it already.” His knee is bouncing impatiently and Y/N didn’t even know that could happen standing up.

“Can you shut the fuck up? Cause I know what I’m doing.”

“Sure you do. Misses disinfect, bandage, clean, stop bleeding-“

“No way that came out of your mouth and you thought ‘yeah that sounds right’”

Eddie flushes in embarrassment, deadpanning “Your patient is dying on your watch.”

Max watches them bicker in confusion, from atop her bathroom sink. She thought they despised Eddie, right? That was the whole mission, wasn’t it? And sure, they were bickering like two school children right now, but she couldn’t have helped but sense something deeper in it.

Something that’s been compressed. Something close to fond.

It’s like watching an old married couple fight.

There’s affection under all that squabbling, and Max isn’t sure how she hadn’t seen it before. Maybe it was because they hid it so well, or maybe it was because the two besotted teenagers were really just that unaware of their own feelings.

Oh my god, Max thinks, they’re idiots.

“Hand me the antiseptic.”

“The what?”

“Big red spray bottle.”

“Im not stupid, you don’t have to say it like that.”

“What else was I supposed to say? You don’t know what antiseptic is.”

“It was the tone.”

She ignores him, placing her hand on the back of Max’s head. “This is gonna hurt, honey.”

Max grimaces at the pet name being used in public, well, in front of Eddie.

“I can take it.”

“I know.” She murmurs, focused on pointing the bottle in the right direction. “Shit, I’m sorry, does it burn much?”

Max’s face scrunches tight in discomfort.

“Way to go, Dr. L/N.”

“I didn’t see you holding down the patient, wasn’t that like, your only job?”

Eddie falls silent.

“I’m gonna do your hands now, baby, deep breath.”

She’s more prepared this time, both Max and Y/N. She sprays it and Max’s eye twitches, but not much else.

“Can you get the bandaids for me, Eddie?” Y/N looks up, quickly, before looking to Max. “Jem and the holograms or teenage mutant ninja turtles?”

Max frowns.

“What is it, Hon?”

“Do you still have the Tom and Jerry pack in your car?”

“Yes. Eddie, they’re in my glove compartment, under the books ‘n stuff.”

Eddie. He doesn’t think that he’s heard her call him by his nickname.. ever. And now she has. Twice.

Munson, Edward, John bender, but never Eddie. It flows so easily off her tongue. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. He’s heard his name in plenty of different mouths, but this one was by far his favorite.

He makes eye contact with Max over Y/N’s head. Both of their eyes widened by the same slip up. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

“What?” Y/N looks up.

“Nothin, nothin.”

He walks out, a lightness in his step that has Y/N raising her eyebrows at him.

“What’s up with him?”

“Eddie?” There’s a hint of knowing in her voice that Y/N doesn’t like.

“Who else?”

“Do you give all your patients attitude?”

“I apologize.”

She swipes the counter clean. Toilet paper and alcohol pads crushed cruelly between her fingers.

“So,” Max kicks her heals against the cabinets, looking so faux innocent, Y/N can’t help the bemused smile growing on her face.

“Yes?”

“When’d you get interested in Munson?”

A startled gasp is ripped from Y/N’s throat.

“I mean, I thought we told each other everything!”

“We do, Maxie-“

“I told you when Lucas kissed me in the empty chemistry lab! I told you when I caught Billy and Samantha Keegan in his car after school! I told you wh-“

“Max!”

She’s worked herself up to the point of tears. Frustration that Y/N hasn’t told her about this bubbling over, like a shaken soda, and threatening to leak out of her eyes.

This is so stupid, Max thinks*, So what Y/N didn’t tell her one silly little thing? It’s not like they’re real sisters.*

The last sentence sticks in her head, winding tighter and tighter around her, like an unwelcome hug. It squeezes air out of her, head fuzzy with shallow breaths.

It’s not like they’re real sisters.

“Max, baby, what’s going on?”

“It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid.” Y/N reassures, “If it’s making you feel like this, it isn’t stupid at all.”

“I just-“ Her arms itch to wrap around herself, but her wounds halt it. Her eyes close, frustration and impatience getting the best of her.

“Remember what Ms. Kelley said? You gotta open up with me, tell me what’s wrong, tell me if you’ve been feeling.. bad.” Oh nice one.

“I don’t like Ms. Kelley, wait-“ Max’s opens her eyes confusedly, “How do you know about Ms. Kelley?”

Embarrassment floods Y/N’s features, nose scrunching like a girl who just revealed something she shouldn’t have.

“Remember when I went to your parent teacher conference for you?”

“Oh my god.”

“I was worried, baby!”

Max recoils in embarrassment, the back of her hand coming up to cover the bridge of her nose. Y/N grabs her wrists, careful of the un-bandaged wounds, and tugs.

“She came up to me and asked if I was your sister, obviously I said yes, and we talked!”

“You talked?” The look on her face is nothing but alarmed, but she can’t deny the warmth swarming her chest. Obviously I said yes.

“She caught me up on what she’s working on with you, and she may write me letters-“

“Letters?”

“Just like- how you’ve been, and a copy of your current grades.”

“Holy shit, that’s got to be illegal.”

“Not when I’m your sister.” She gives Max a goofy smile.

Max glares with no real heat. This whole time she had someone looking out for her. It wasn’t just a drunk mother who doesn’t care about Max’s grades. It wasn’t just an absent mother who was almost never home, leaving her to make dinner for herself.

It was Y/N, who was her older sister at parent teacher conferences. It was Y/N, who came over at 9pm with groceries and take out when Max called her hungry one night. Max’s mom hadn’t gone shopping in the last week, and the last thing she had eaten was soggy pizza and tater tots, at 11 that morning.

Guilt chokes Max.

She wasn’t alone. She had Y/N, who took her back-to-school shopping when her mom was at work. She had Y/N, who kept up with her therapist and schoolwork, making sure she kept on track.

She had Y/N, who was her sister.

She flings her arms around her startled older sister, ignoring the searing pain in her hands when it makes contact with the cotton of Y/N’s shirt.

“I’m so sorry.” Max sobs into Y/N’s hair. “I’m s-so sorry.”

“What on gods green earth could you be sorry for?” She wraps her arms around Max, swaying soothingly.

“You told me not to skate on gravel!”

“I’m only a little upset about that!” Y/N jokes, though, it doesn’t land. “I’m just glad you’re okay, Maxie. Banged up, yes, but okay.”

Max sobs again, shoulders racked with them.

“I don’t appreciate you enough.”

“You appreciate me just enough! You have nothing to feel sorry for.”

“Not even for getting blood on your shirt?”

“Oh now you’re crossing the line,” She chastises, pulling away with mock disgust on her face. Max laughs wetly, watching her try to see the back of her shirt.

Turning back she’s satisfied when she sees the smile on Max’s face. She wipes the tears from Max’s cheeks, shaking her head no when Max opens her mouth to protest. “No, not even for getting blood on my raggedy tee.”

“Because you’re my sister?” Max asks, embarrassed when she sees the realization click in Y/N’s head.

“Oh Max.” She pulls her in for another hug, nuzzling her chin where Max’s neck meets her shoulder. “Is that what this is about?”

Max shrugs, noncommittally, wrapping her arms around Y/N again. “Maybe.” It comes out an abashed whisper.

“Oh baby, oh baby.” Y/N rocks them, “I love you so much.”

“But-“

“No!” She pulls back abruptly, holding Max’s shoulders. “No buts! I’d adopt you if I could.”

“You would?” Max yearned for the picture of it.

“Uh, yeah?” Her face twists. “And every night we would eat pizza, and use red vines for straws, while we watch movies that Steve would let us borrow from family video.”

“I’d love that.”

“I don’t think CPS would.”

Max cracks a grin. “I love you.”

“Don’t.” She shakes her head. “I love you more.”

“Eddie is taking a long time.”

“Christ almighty.” Y/N looks at the Scooby-Doo watch the kids bought her for Christmas. “What’s taking him so long?”

She looks around the bathroom before looking back at Max. “Should I check?”

“Yeah,” Max croaks from crying. “He’s probably snooping in your car.”

“Oh my god, he is.” She stands up abruptly, patting Max’s head, before rushing out the bathroom door.

He’s leaning against her passenger door, back against the window, legs crossed casually, reading a magazine she left in her glove compartment.

Nothing will beat the horrified look on her face when she walks closer and sees which one.

She lunges for it, grasping air when Eddie easily swerves her.

“Nuh- uh” Eddie taunts, lifting the arm with the magazine into the air.

It flies high above their heads in the unforgiving grip of Eddie’s hand, wind flapping at the flimsy pages. The brazen smolder of the critically acclaimed musician mocks her.

Special Issue: The Hottest in Music, Movies, TV

The Rolling Stones

Heart Throb:

Bon Jovi

He walks over to her, closer and closer, until she takes his place against the car.

“You’ve got a thing for Jovi?”

This is so humiliating, this is so humiliating, this is so humiliating.

“Dustin told me that you had a thing for Kirk Hammett, but Bon Jovi?”

Dustin! That fucking traitor.

Pelvis to pelvis their hips touch, close enough to be indecent. She watches as their hip bones jab into each other.

He searches for her eyes. “He kind of looks like me, no?”

The smile on his face is awful.

“No, he doesn’t.” She jumps for it, but Eddie moves his arm out of reach. “He’s much cuter then you. Hand it over, Edward.”

“He doesn’t?”

“No. Give it.”

“Maybe it was something about the hair?” He presses. “I don’t know, Y/N. Maybe if it was just Kirk, but Kirk and Jovi? I think we’re seeing a pattern.”

She covers her eyes, embarrassment heavy in the movement. “I don’t have a thing for you. Please give it to me.”

He hands her the magazine, biting his tongue when she snatches it. “What if I wanted you to?”

“What?”

“What?” He looks around confusedly, “Was it something I said?”

“You’re so infuriating.” She tosses the magazine into her car and turns on her heel towards the house.

Quickly, he grabs her wrist, pulling her just as close as she was seconds before.

“And you’re just as pretty as the day I met you.” The magazine gave him a newfound confidence that Y/N thinks no one should have. “How’d you manage?”

“You’re sick and insane.” She scoffs, pulling her arm. How dare he fuck with her feelings like this?

He doesn’t let go.

“You’d let Bon Jovi kiss you?” He pushes hair from her pretty face, tucking it behind her ear.

She sputters. “That is none of your damn business.”

“Would you let me? I’d argue that, that is my business. Being me n’all.”

Startled is the only thing he can read on her face, and any other day he would’ve laughed.

“No?” He looks for her eyes, he won’t kiss her without complete consent.

She shakes her head confusedly.

“No you wouldn’t kiss me, or no you would kiss me?”

“No, I would.”

He taps his ear, moving it closer to her lips. “Speak up baby.”

She pushes his head away, humiliated. “Fuck off.”

“Okay, okay, I heard you. I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not.”

“I’m not sorry I heard that. You’re right.”

“I can’t stand yo- mhph!”

His head duck downs quickly, taking her lips to his. The momentum has her quickly grabbing his biceps for support, before kissing back with the same force.

It’s a hard kiss, not rough, but hard.

Her knees buckle and she’s ever grateful for the way the metalhead’s hips are pushing hers against the car. His hands slide from her jaw to the back of her neck, fingers tangling in hair.

They pull back and look at each other with wild eyes and kiss bitten lips. There’s something in his eyes she can’t decipher, and doesn’t have time to, because of the way he leans down to take her lips in his again.

She can feel his smile against her lips.

“Was it like kissing Bon Jovi?” He asks, pulling back and thumbing at the cherry chapstick she left on his lips. The dazed look in her eyes has him pleased with himself.

“No, it was like kissing you.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“I think you’re cuter then Bon Jovi.”

Something shoots through his heart. Damn Cupid.

“My hair has got more volume, I know.”

She laughs, clutching onto his arms, and turning her head away. He wished that she was still looking at him.

Attention hungry, he moves his face into her view. “What?” The smile on his face in infectious, “You think his hair is better then mine?”

“No.” She lets him grab her chin and look at her, giggles still bubbling to the surface. “You’ve got a better voice too.”

“I do?”

“Yeah, ‘specially when you sing that one song and-“

“What song?”

“I was about to sing it for you.”

“Terribly sorry, go on.”

She shakes her head amusedly. “The one where you go ‘your love for me has just got to be real, before you know the way I’m going to feel,’”

She looks at him for any confirmation that he knows the song, but he pretends to be unaware so that she’ll keep singing. It’s not the prettiest singing voice she could do, but she hasn’t really fully recovered from the kiss.

She huffs, but the smile she can’t wipe off gives her away. “‘I’m going to feel, I’m going to feeeeeel, oh yeah!’”

“Oh! That song!”

“Yeah,” She looks very unimpressed. “That song.”

“I sound good singing it?”

“Don’t know how I won over you.”

He clutches his hand to his heart, closing his eyes and shaking his head morosely. “Don’t bring that night up.”

“But-“ Shes huffing giggles again.

“Nuh- uh.” He brings a silencing finger to her lips. “You wound me.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Your idiot.” He corrects firmly, planting a kiss on her jaw.

She tilts her head for him. “Such a loser.”

“A loser that you kissed!” He pulls back and she pulls him closer, nuzzling her face in his warm chest, sighing out exasperatedly.

“You know, I-“

“Hello?” A voice rings out, annoyance heavy in it.

Y/N startles, “Shit! Max.”

—

“There’s been an energy shift.” Max wryly drops.

“What?” Y/N looks up from the Tom bandaid she’s sticking above the Jerry bandaid, on Max’s knee.

“What are you talking about, Pippy?”

“There’s been an energy shift,” She looks between them, “You two kissed.”

It’s actually not so much of an energy shift, rather then Max watching them outside the window, but it’s fun to fuck with them. Also, what did they think they were hiding, with the pink sheen on Eddie’s lips?

“Eddie I think our patient is going insane with the pain.”

—

“You kinda look like her.”

“Who?”

Max reaches over to the bandaid Y/N is about to pull the backing off of, plucking it out of her fingers.

“I absolutely do not.”

“What!” She snatches the bandaid back from Max, squinting at it. “You don’t see it?”

“You only think I look like Miss Vavoom because I’m a redhead.”

Y/N cocks her head before sticking it to Max’s awaiting cheek, “Yeah, maybe you’re right. But also that green shirt is really bringing it all together.”

“I guess.”

“You should be her for Halloween!”

“You and Eddie should be Tom and Jerry!” Max says with faux excitement.

“Okay, all right,” She stands up, knees popping, and pats Max’s knee. “let’s get in the car Miss Vavoom.”

“Don’t call me that!”

Y/N helps Max limp to the car, newly covered in Tom and Jerry bandaids. Elbows, knees, palms, and shins covered in dogs, cats, and chicks.

Eddie, who started the car for them, is looking guilty as ever from the passenger seat.

“What is it, baby?”

Max blinks, appalled. “I thought I was your baby?”

“I’m so sorry.” He looks so ashamed it scares her.

“For what?”

“I ate a fry out of the bag.”

“Oh fuck off.” She laughs, starting the car annoyedly.

He grabs her hand off the steering wheel and takes it into her own, pressing his lips to it. “I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not.”

“No I’m not.”

#stranger things #eddie munson #stranger things 4 #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie x you #sister! max mayfield #max mayfield

[ebitchwriting]

Dragged Into The Blood

Story Summary: Never staying in one place for long, moving nearly every year, Lea Anderson was used to impermanence, chaos, and having to leave everything behind at the drop of a hat. Lea never expected that she would be kidnapped and wake up in a rusted, decrepit prison cell because of a madman's delusional belief in eugenics and cleansing the Earth of imperfection. By herself, with only the clothing on her back, she will have to rely on luck and logic to escape before she's killed or worse. Chapter Summary: Finding an escape from this compound was easier said than done when everything was locked, and the captor was seemingly watching their every move, pulling their strings where the captor wished. More than that, it was getting harder for Lea to hide her true nature from her fellow prisoners, and there seemingly being a feral creature around every corner, ready to tear them apart. How long could Lea keep her mask up in the carnage? Chapter Warnings: blood, gore, guns, death, and sensory overload issues.

I'm back! After a month! Sorry, an ice storm hit, which led to me losing power for 12 days. Then I noticed how literally every single chapter has typos or weird nonsensical crap in it because, apparently, Grammarly sucks now. So once I got power back, I obsessively started to go over each chapter and edited out all the mistakes until it was acceptable in my eyes. And, in all honesty, my MA Apprenticeship overwhelmed me as well. Regardless, I'm back with a new chapter and working on the next! However, I will be changing my upload schedule to once a month rather than once every two weeks to account for the apprenticeship, this fic, and also the passion project of my own epic fantasy world. Anyway, enjoy the chapter, and let me know what you think of it!

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16.

Chapter 15: Locks and Keys

No one said a word as Claire took the first step forward. No one said a word when they pushed past the door and entered yet another ominous, dark hallway, lit only by the flickering overhead lights. Moving slowly, cautiously, anticipating someone or something to pop out and attack them. Yet, with each step, nothing jumps out of the shadows. Leaning against the wall behind Claire as she peered over the edge, there was still nothing. Turning past the corner, everyone stayed eerily quiet, not wanting to tempt fate. 

‘… And whoever is puppeteering us…’ 

Lea couldn’t help the twitches at every distant screech. Wails reverberated off the walls, and it was impossible to tell where they originated. Eyes wide beneath the cover, darting back and forth as she shuffled forward. 

‘… The doors conveniently unlocking… that butchered guy dropping as soon as Claire grabbed the keys… the fact we found each other damn near immediately… There is no fucking way that whoever kidnapped us isn’t watching us right now...’  The corner of her mouth twitched into a grimace. Back taut, feeling like a thread threatening to snap under the tension. 

‘… This is actually worse than Wesker… at least that fuck couldn’t be bothered to keep tabs on me after… that…’

Another corner. Another stop to peer over the edge for anyone or anything malevolent. After a moment, Claire silently begins moving again. Moira tentatively followed, honey eyes alert and darting around the dimly lit area. Lea languished behind, struggling to keep her movements calm and controlled. 

‘… They always have a goal… no matter how fucked it is… there’s always one… I’m swear if it’s godhood again…’   

Claire pushed open the red-lit double doors, the hinges groaning, timed almost perfectly with the low wailing of something far in the distance. Every hair not singed from Lea’s body stood on end as a rush of frigid air poured out from what looked like the remains of a morgue. Teeth chattering, shivering hands reaching up to rub at her shoulders. Lea’s clothed gaze stared enviously at the other two and their jackets. 

“Hey, what’s your name?” Moira whispered, rushing towards the knocked-over desks, rummaging through the drawers as fast as possible with shaky hands. The corners of Lea’s lips curled into a vindicated smirk at the sight, rubbing at her shoulders as she trembled. 

“It’s L-” Lea froze, eyes falling to the floor as she tried to focus on what I.D. the B.S.A.A. supplied her. She cringed with every second that passed as Lea struggled with her memory. 

“… Uh, you alright?” Moria asked, giving her a quizzical look as she moved across the room, idly looking over the counters for anything useful. 

“Yep! It’s… um… Lana… Westerna.” Lea awkwardly drawled out as the name finally resurfaced, instantly burning with embarrassment when she peeked at Moira’s incredulous face. 

“… Like from Dracula?” Moira asked, quirking up an eyebrow at her, eyes meeting cotton. Lea could feel the heat radiating off her cheeks as she blushed harder from the embarrassment. 

“At least they didn’t name me Lucy,” Lea tried feebly to laugh it off, her attempts at laughter sounding painfully forced. Lea cursed under her breath for jokingly suggesting that name and her inability to use the correct tone. 

“Shh, we still don’t know what’s out there. Come on.” Claire warned, the octaves of her voice falling down a few notes for a moment. The two quickly finished giving the room a once-over before falling back behind her. 

Out and around the corner, the group found a ladder going down. Lea rises to the tips of her toes, peering over Claire’s shoulder to the lower platform. A surprisingly small room, hardly lit by fallen lights, just as run-down as everything else in this building. Her gaze locked with the two corpses on either end of the room. One covered in a bloodied and dirtied white tarp. After a moment of focusing her gaze, she recognized the fallen butchered guard as the other corpse. 

“Alright, we made it. Key’s over there.” Claire breathed a sigh of relief, stepping down a few rungs of the ladder before gripping the sides and sliding down. On the other hand, Moira chose to go down each rung, complaining about the smell. After a pondering second, Lea slid down like Claire, not wanting to waste more time than necessary. 

Tentatively stepping toward the butchered guard, about fifty feet away. Forty. Cries of agony, but the other two didn’t hear it.

‘… Not safe yet…’

Thirty feet. Twenty. A loud crash that as all flinching back. 

“Shit, what was that?” A scared muttering nearby, Moira, perhaps? Or was it herself? It certainly wasn’t Claire. 

Ten feet. Five. Then, finally, they’re at the body, the air thick with apprehension as Claire kneels and inspects the corpse. The more experienced woman grimaced slightly at the sickly-sweet stench of death but ignored it. 

“The key’s gone.” 

‘… The keys aren’t on the belt… did it fall to the ground..? No... nothing… not a damn thing… maybe it’s caught..?’ 

Claire pulled out the handgun from the guard’s belt, quickly ejecting the clip and inspecting it alongside the chamber of the 9mm. Lea’s eyes were trailing upward, looking at possible hooks and crevices. A shuffling step backward echoes in the room. 

“Do you, uh… are you gonna use that?” Moira asked timidly, her voice just wavering a little bit. Shuffling of fabric, something plastic being clicked open. 

“More reliable than any person,” Claire responded without a beat. A click, then something being pulled out from under the corpse, quickly followed by something plastic clicking close and something heavy being holstered. More shuffling steps backward. 

“If you say so,” Moira said, her tone wary but dropping the subject. Lea opened her mouth to ask Moira a question when a metallic glint caught her attention. The keys, hanging off the side of a rusted water tank. 

“I found the keys!” Lea excitedly announced, pointing at the rusted tank with a smile. A smile that fell as soon as she turned around and was met with the confused gazes of the other two women. “Uh… I really don’t need much to adjust to the dark…” Lea mumbled under her breath, reaching a hand to scratch at the back of her head. 

“Moira, shine on light on it, will ya?” Claire asked, unholstering her gun. Lea didn’t miss how Moira’s amber honey eyes flickered with fear as they locked onto the 9mm. After a moment, the pixie-haired girl shook her head and pointed the flashlight at the water tank. Lea quickly raised her hands to cup her ears and turned away from the pair. 

A jolt of pain shot through her head the second the trigger was pulled, followed by a high-pitched ringing muffling all other sounds. The jingling of the keys as they were quickly scooped from the ground was barely audible, much less the loud, mechanical beep of the nearest door being unlocked. Lea shook her head, rubbing at her ears as if that would make the ringing go away quicker. 

Turning around, the three started making their way back. Fifty feet, forty. Lea nervously glanced around the room as she followed Claire, her nerves filled with urgency. Memories start flickering in the back of Lea’s mind, sidestepping her attempts to shove it down. Thirty feet, twenty. The temple, bullets flying back her head, debris coating her lungs, blood dripping down her hands. Ten feet. 

The door crashes open, practically hanging off its hinges, as another mutilated shell of a person starts wailing, spewing blood and saliva everywhere. Without waiting another second, Claire aims and shoots, the bullet lodging in its throat and sending another jolt of agony through Lea’s head. Lea’s clutching at her head, hardly aware of the whine that escapes her lips. 

A hand grips her shoulders, and suddenly, she’s being pulled along and toward the ladder. Someone’s shouting voice warbled as if from underwater, the horrid ringing muffling anything identifiable. Snapping back into action, Lea climbed the ladder as fast as possible. Sprinting down the hall, skidding around the corners. Eyes locked forward, ignoring everything behind her. 

Slamming past the door and entering the frosted morgue, skidding to a stop at the sight of another one of those creatures baring its teeth at Claire. Lea’s eyes went wide. Claire lashed out with her knife before Lea could try to launch herself forward. She slashed the cheeks, forcing the thing to clutch at its face. Spinning around, Claire kicks at the thing, sending it back into the knocked-over trolley. 

Claire looked over her shoulder, shouting something indiscernible back at the two girls before running again. Lea’s eyes flitted to the mutilated body in the corner for a moment before going against her instincts and following Claire and Moira. 

Through the double corners, swerving around the broken door hanging off its hinges and down the hall. Skidding around the corners to a screeching stop. There was no one in sight except another one of those monsters. It shrilly cried out, charging her. 

Lea cringed at the sound but forced herself to slip into a fighting stance. Closer and closer, leaving bloody footprints on the linoleum floor. Shoulders tensing, eyes locking with a bloated, malignant form. As soon as it reached out to grab Lea, she grabbed the closest arm, flipping and slamming the body into the ground. One swift stomp to the skull, crushing it beneath her heel. The ringing still hadn’t let up, but Lea could feel the crunch, the wet slick of blood and tissue. 

‘… Doesn’t matter… need to find the others…’ 

Lea’s eyes roamed the corridor for anything familiar. After a few seconds, a flash of movement. Eyes snapped to the barred windows, and heaved a sigh of relief at the sight of auburn hair and a dirtied hoodie. 

Relief was short-lived as the door at the end of the corridor flew open, and another one of those creatures toppled out. It wasted no time to start sprinting at Lea. Just as Lea slipped back into fighting stance, a shot rings out, the bullet lodging in the eye. The teen flinched but forced herself to close the distance, grabbing and slamming the skull into her knee. Once, twice, thrice, then it went limp.  

A hand grabbed and pulled on Lea’s shoulder, and it took everything in her to not twist it off, focusing instead on the flash of auburn hair and blood-spattered leather jacket as they started sprinting again. Lungs burned with every breath, muscles aching with every step. Mind blank for once as her gaze is locked forward, uncaring of whatever is behind her. 

Another walking, screeching horror charges from the opened isolation rooms. Another shot rings out, bringing the monster down to its knees. Instinctually, Lea swings down into its temple with her shin, bringing it down. From the corner of her eye, she saw Claire quickly searching for something in the isolation room. 

Before the three could continue their escape, something leaps out from the dark. Without thinking, Lea pushes Moira out of its path. Within a second, it tackles the teenager. She reaches out with her hands, keeping it as far away as possible. It clawed at her with its gored and reeking hands. Lea gagged at the stench. From behind the writhing creature, Lea’s covered gaze caught the glint of the barrel pointing at the thing. She ducks her head to the side, squeezing her eyes shut. Another shot, and the splatter of something hot and putrid coating the back of her head and shoulder. Lea pushed the corpse off and flung herself back onto her feet. Running.  

Slamming past the blue door, sprinting up the stairs. Claire practically rips the key from her pocket, shoving it into the lock and unlocking it. Yanking the key out of the lock, her hands push the door open, and all three rush past the threshold, slamming and locking the door behind them. 

Moira and Lea collapsed, heaving and trembling, while Claire leaned against the door. Lea cupped her ears, closed her eyes, and focused on breathing through her mouth, trying to not gag at the never-waning scent of decay and excrement. The slowing thrum of her heartbeat. The feel of her now sweat-slick skin and sticky hair. Slowly, the high-pitched ringing ebbed, and the mumbling curse words of Moira right next to her brought Lea back down to the present. Behind the stained cloth, Lea opened her eyes, taking in the image before her. Moira, on her hands and knees, dry heaving and cursing up a storm that would put a sailor to shame. Claire, leaning against the door, breathing slowly and deeply, eyes closed yet focused. 

After another blessed minute of rest and silence, Claire’s cerulean eyes opened, darting between the two younger women. She knelt, helping Moira back onto her feet before switching to Lea, offering her hand and a tired but warm smile. Tentatively, Lea took Claire’s hand and pulled herself up. They all exchanged glances with each other before Claire took the lead, slowly walking down the new corridor. 

They had barely turned the corner before coming upon another corpse. However, Lea wasn’t focused on the fresh carnage but rather on the extended barrel of a shotgun that lay just out of reach of the gnawed hands. Very little of his blood contaminated the gun, only the barest amount on the handle. Claire grabbed the weapon and slung it over her shoulder before moving past the body. Lea couldn’t help but notice how Moira’s already pallid skin grew greyer at the sight of the weapon, honey eyes locking with it as the three turned the corner. 

Claire swipes at the wooden crate, shattering the fragile wood. She knelt to rummage through the debris before picking up a small pack of shotgun shells. She holstered her 9mm and grabbed the shotgun slung over her shoulder. 

“You need a gun too, Moira,” Claire said flatly as she started loading the shells. Moira froze mid-step, eyes going impossibly wider. 

“No, I really, really don’t. Sorry, I don’t do firearms.” Without a beat, the words rambled out of her mouth. Her eyes fell to the ground as they seemed to grow distant, far away. “Not after what happened,” Moira asserted in a hush, her arms crossing over her chest, almost as if cradling herself. Claire swiped the knife through two more crates, grabbing another pack of shells and a handful of green herbs. 

“Shit, I’m sorry. I forgot.” Claire turned, looking at the brunette. She let out a small sigh as her eyes trailed to the floor, pondering momentarily. “Maybe we can find you something else.” Claire raised her eyes to try to meet Moira, but the brash young woman scoffed, brushing past Claire. 

“No, I’ll just… be on flashlight duty or something. It’s fine.” Moira insisted, despite the waver in her cadence. Walking over to the surprisingly intact storage shelf in the corner, rummaging through the cluttered boxes for anything useful. There were a couple of 9mm bullets, which were hurriedly handed off to Claire. Then, there was something small and blue glinting in the light, but it was pocketed away before Lea could look at it. “Nice,” Moira pulls out the discarded and surprisingly not dirty or rusted crowbar from behind a few boxes on the bottom shelf. “Blunt weapon. I can do blunt weapons.” Moira moved to the other side of the room, inspecting the bright blue graffiti on the wall. 

‘… What the fuck happened…’  Lea wondered to herself as she observed the pixie-haired girl walk over to the door, using the crowbar to rip off the nailed-on bar. 

‘… I need to step up and get my shit together…’  With a muffled but loud grunt, Moira ripped the bar off, breathing laboriously. 

“Lea,” Claire quietly called out, her voice slightly hoarse. Lea stopped, turning her clothed gaze towards the more experienced woman. “You know how to use a gun, right?” Lea’s gaze fell to the shotgun still in the older woman’s hands, the barrel pointed to the ground. 

“Oh, uh, yeah. My uncles and aunt taught me, but I only know basic shit.” Lea said awkwardly, bringing a hand to the nape of her neck to rub at it. “I’m fine with the shotgun. It’ll give me more distance.” Claire nodded, handing the gun and shells over to Lea. Claire moved to the door, motioning for the two younger women to stay close behind her. 

As soon as they pushed the door open, they were met with the menacing sight of flickering lights, blood stains drenching the walls and ground, and a lone figure dressed in something white and poofy. In an instant, Lea’s jaw dropped in horror as she processed that it was a little girl. Before anyone could react to the sight, the girl ran off, eerily silent. 

The three froze, staring ahead where the girl was for a long moment. Claire slowly started inching forward, the others shuffling behind her. 

“Clarie, you saw that, right?” Moira tentatively asked as the group turned the corner, careful not to step into the coagulated blood puddle. Rounding the corner, the dark hallway was nearly entirely silent, save for the rasping yet even breathing of dozens of probably more of those things. Were they resting? 

“Yeah, I saw… something.” 

“Something? That looked like a kid.” Lea snapped before remembering that the two couldn’t see as well in the dark as she could. “Fuck, I hope that’s not a kid. She doesn’t deserve this… no one deserves this.” Lea tacked on, feigning uncertainty as another rush of anxiety flowed through her veins. 

“Are you sure, Lea?” Claire paused, turning to face the teen, tone deadly serious yet unjudging. Lea inhaled sharply before nodding just as sharply. “Then we need to keep an eye out and bring her with us. No sudden movements, don’t yell, and stay calm.” Claire flicked her eyes between Lea and Moira, not moving until they both nodded or made affirming noises. 

Bizarrely enough, no child was in sight when the three crossed the next threshold. The prison door was sealed and barricaded with large metal crates. There were no crevices she could have hidden in, nor lockers or unlocked crates. After a moment, Claire sighed dejectedly as her cerulean eyes trailed over to a metal divider lifted just slightly so that someone could crawl underneath it. 

The group fell back into the routine of breaking the wooden boxes and searching the crevices between the metal crates. Luckily, the search yielded more ammo but did nothing to ease the dread settling in their guts. 

‘… There’s no way that kid is infected… too quiet… too good at hiding…. how long has she been here..?’  The thoughts rolled uneasily through Lea’s mind as Claire and Moira started to lift the metal divider to eye level. Lea quickly slid under the divider. She gripped the bottom edge of it, holding it up while the other two crossed over before letting the barrier slide down as quietly as possible. 

The horrid stench of dried, old excrement got more potent with each and every step up the stairs, making Lea gag under her breath. The rasping yet even breathing also got louder as they made their ascent, leaving no doubt in her mind that there were at least a dozen more of those poor bastards throughout this new area. 

When they reached the last step, Lea immediately recognized this area as an abandoned detention center. Like every other room in this hellscape, blood and dirt caked the walls and floor, though some stains appeared fresher. The stench of urine and fecal matter emanated from the locked solitary cells, strong enough to force Lea to breathe through her mouth to avoid its inescapable odor. The hanging lamps didn’t even flicker, so the only light source came from the tiny slivers of sunlight shining through the barred windows above. As Lea walked underneath one of the slivers of sunlight, she shivered in the minuscule warmth the feeble ray provided compared to the desolate prison. 

A familiar electronic screech from a radio filled the relative silence, shocking them to a halt, heads whipping around to find the source of the noise. 

“Fear what you will become and become what you fear.” A husky feminine voice languidly said, slightly distorted by the radio waves. Claire lifted her now orange wristband to her ear quizzically. 

‘… She’s the bitch… I can feel it in my bones…’

“Are you afraid? You can tell me. Talk to me.” The mysterious voice continued, taking on an almost hissing, cold tone. With every word the mysterious woman said, the more her suspicions started nibbling at the back of her mind.

‘… Why does she sound so familiar..?’

“Those bracelets change color in response to fear.” The voice cryptically trailed on, frustratingly holding only clues and yielding no answers. Even though Lea couldn’t see the face of their captor, she could envision the sadistic smile painting her lips. 

“And who exactly are you?” Claire demanded, not an ounce of fear in her tone. Eyes hard, lips pressed into a firm frown, Lea practically sees the fury rolling from the woman in waves. For a moment, she was envious of Claire’s fearlessness and collectedness. Why couldn’t she be like that?

“So much suffering… you don’t even know what to be afraid of yet.” Just as suddenly as the melodic voice had come, the voice went silent, leaving the three with even more questions as well as a palpable and undeniable atmosphere of annoyance. The more experienced woman rolled her eyes and started walking again. 

“Was she talking to us or at us?” Moira vented, rolling her eyes as the group entered the next room, a dark room lit by a singular fluorescent light in the corner, otherwise devoid of objects. 

“At us. She was definitely talking at us.” Lea concurred, walking over to the desk off to the side. Immediately, she took the map to the detention center before opening the drawers. She grimaced as she noticed that the drawers held nothing. “Here, found this,” Lea said, walking up to the leather-clad woman and handing the dirtied parchment over. For a moment, Claire said nothing nor moved, just stared again with an exhausted expression. 

Scrunching her eyebrows, Lea’s eyes traveled over to where Claire was staring. Immediately, she understood Claire’s expression. There was a path, possibly an exit, barred and locked off. Just next to the doorway were gears, clearly missing two vital parts. 

#dragged into the blood #original character #resident evil #resident evil revelations 2 #claire redfield #moira burton #a03 link #a03 fanfic #canon compliant #resident evil fanfiction

[talesfromlordaeron]

Bai’s Apprentice Part 11: Victory or Death

((Author’s note: another long chapter... There should just be one last chapter after this one (maybe an epilogue, possibly... maybe...). Thanks for sticking it out... we’re almost at the end, y’all.))

“Sen’Jin Village is under attack by the Alliance! Sen’Jin Village is under attack by the Alliance!”

The air grew cold and heavy around Bai as the war horns and the warning cries echoed across the valley. Next to her, Zully had grown pale, a look of horror and panic in his eyes. “Zully’s home...” he said softly. “His family...”

A flash: hordes of undead Scourge crashing through the gates of Silvermoon. Bai’s mother, standing at the front line with the other Farstriders, her bow drawn as she took her final stand... her final breaths...

Bai shook the memory from her head. “I’m sorry, Zully,” she said, resting her hand on the young troll’s shoulder. “All we can do is hope they’ll manage to escape.”

Zully yanked himself free of her grasp, the fear quickly replaced with a startling amount of fierce determination. “We have to help dem!” he declared, running toward the sheltered exit of the Valley of Trials.

“Zully, wait!” Bai shouted, Blinking after him. “Zully we can’t, come back -- it’s too dangerous for us!”

"We have to try, mon!” Zully shouted back, without slowing his pace.

“Zully, no -- stop!” Bai couldn’t keep the panic out of her voice. “You don’t understand -- if these are Alliance adventurers, we truly don’t stand a chance against them. I just told you, I’m not experienced at battling other adventurers -- and if it’s a full raid group preparing to assault Orgrimmar, we’ll be outnumbered anyway!”

Zully spun on Bai, anger in his eyes. “You just be tellin’ Zully earlier how you didn’t like feelin’ powerless when da Scourge attack your home. How you be trainin' to be a powerful mage so you can defend da people ya love. And now you be tellin’ Zully not to do the same? You be standin’ here wanting Zully ta do nothin’ when his home is under attack?”

Bai took a step back, feeling almost as if Zully had physically slapped her across her face. “And I also told you what happened when I rushed in without the training or experience to properly defend even myself,” she said, trying to muster some anger in return for how Zully was almost weaponizing the experiences she’d just told him about; instead, her voice only conveyed sadness and pain. “I’m not telling you that you shouldn’t try to defend your home -- I’m telling you that you can’t. It’s impossible; neither of us are strong enough to do anything other than get ourselves killed.”

“And didn’t ya just tell Zully dat adventurers don’t be dyin’ right away? Maybe you be right and Zully not be strong enough to take down da raiders. But maybe he can distract 'em long enough for his family to escape. And if you be too scared to help him, he’ll do it wit’ or wit’out ya.” He stood for only a second longer, his determined stare challenging her to argue the point, before turning and running off once more.

Bai squeezed her eyes shut, remembering again the pain of having her soul torn again and again from her body, the cold numbness as she stumbled through the darkness of the spirit world, the spiral of the Twisting Nether overhead threatening to suck her severed spirit away into oblivion for all eternity. The warmth of his guiding Light bringing her back over and over... until he was no longer there to guide her and she was forced to do it on her own, time stretching onward as she staggered alone through the lifeless dark, hoping she could make it back in time...

She shivered, forcing herself to run after Zully. He was too kind and pure a soul to have to go through the fear and agony of being in that horrible purgatory; she had to change his mind and stop him before he got himself killed.

It took a few Blinks for her to catch up to him; by that time, Sen’Jin Village was just a short distance away. Pillars of smoke rose into sky as fires threatened to consume the straw-thatched roofs of the wooden huts. Raucous war yells in Common punctuated the screams and cries of panicked and dying trolls.

“Zully, listen to me,” Bai said, desperation seeping into her voice as she ran alongside him. “If you truly want to help your village, you have to listen to what I tell you: do not engage the raiders. We’ll do nobody any good if we die out here. We’ll go in, try to put the fires out, find what survivors we can and help them find their way to safety. Do you understand me?”

“Yes mon, Zully understand.”

“Good. I mean it though. Whatever happens, don’t attack them.”

As they ran into the village, Bai came to a stop and began chanting an incantation; in front of her, the water small pond in the center roiled and rose into the air, shaping into the form of a water elemental. “Aranal!” she commanded, gesturing the elemental toward the nearest -- and largest -- of the burning structures. Sprays of water burst forth from the elemental, beating the raging flames down.

Zully, meanwhile, darted in and out of the various buildings, yelling something Bai couldn’t recognize -- probably in Zandali, and probably seeking out familiar people. Bai realized that by this time, they had heard almost no people... but the number of bodies strewn about...

She gritted her teeth, directing her elemental to the next burning building. First things first -- she had to stop the fires from worsening and spreading.

Zully staggered out of yet another hut, coughing harshly as he tried to wave the smoke from his face. “Fa’da! Ma’da!” He staggered to a stop next to Bai, wheezing harshly. “Bai, dey ain’t here, Zully can’t find dem anywhere...”

“Help me put the fires out, we can look for survivors when the village isn’t in danger of burning down entirely,” Bai instructed. Channeling her emotions into ice, she shot a Frostbolt at some of the lingering flames. “Use your Frostbolt on the smaller fires -- the heat will melt the ice into water and dampen the flames.”

Zully did as instructed, turning toward the last of the burning buildings and shooting off Frostbolts, stumbling over the practice incantations as he did. Bai could feel her control of her elemental slipping, and knew it wouldn’t be much longer before the bonds holding it together fell from her grasp entirely. With one last surge of effort, the elemental lunged at the final building, its body dissolving and crashing as a wave into the side of the structure. The fire sputtered under the onslaught of water, sizzling as the flames flickered into nothingness.

Bai heard the thundering of hooves approaching, along with a defiant yell in Zandali. She and Zully turned as one as a troll sprang out of the shadows of one of the buildings -- a rogue, no doubt, having been hidden much of this time. “Zul’lhor, what are you doin’ here mon?”

“Fa’da!” Zully yelled back, relief pouring down across his body as he let out a sigh of relief and slumped down beside her. “Tank da loa you made it--”

Bai saw it first, a barely perceptible shift in the air behind the survivor. “Look out!” she screamed--

The air shimmered and a snow leopard -- having been hidden in stealth -- snarled into existence, pouncing toward--

Bai grabbed Zully and spun him away, shielding him with her body from what she knew was coming.

Behind them, a horrible crunch, wet tearing and a scream of pain choked out far too soon... the thundering hooves came to a stop, as voices in Common cheered and laughed and celebrated. “She flushed another one out, did she?” one yelled, the dwarven accent unmistakable. “Aye, rip open that nasty troll, tear his flesh from his limbs like they do to us--”

In her arms, Zully let out a howling wordless scream that was equal parts unbridled rage and unfathomable anguish; in her mind, her own matching screams from years ago, watching the ghouls tear her mother limb from limb. She gripped Zully tighter, as much to hold herself together as him.

Beneath her, she felt the fire build and flare throughout his body, a searing pain that forced her to let go lest she be consumed by the flame herself. Shoving her aside, Zully spun towards the leopard, blood dripping from its jowls as it feasted on its kill, the hunter and the other raiders behind it. A swirl of flame engulfed his body as he --

“-- ZULLY NO--”

-- thrust his hands forward, channeling the full maelstrom of infuriated grieving fire into a massive beam of searing energy. The hunter caught the full blast, eyes widening in shock as he staggered backward and fell to the ground, flames scattering around him and scorching the clothes and mounts of the nearest raiders.

For the briefest moment, time came to a stop, and Bai saw the look of surprise in the eyes of the raiders -- twenty, maybe thirty or more of them -- as everyone took in the surprising amount of sheer force and firepower that just came from this young troll.

And then she felt the shift: a change in the aura of the raiders, almost as a deepening red cloud enshrouded the raid. At the same time, Bai felt the shift in herself, the shattering of the magic around her and Zully that kept them protected while in the Horde’s own territory. And now, they were vulnerable: two inexperienced mages against an entire raiding army of Alliance adventurers.

Running on panic and instinct, Bai grabbed Zully and Blinked them toward the ocean. Unlike in Dalaran, there were no corners to hide behind, no crowds to get lost in; they would be overtaken in a matter of seconds. Getting underwater was their one hope at survival -- but even then, Bai feared it wouldn’t be enough, that she was only delaying the inevitable.

If they died, would she even be able to guide both of their spirits safely back to their bodies...?

She Blinked again; no time to think. She could hear the leopard gaining on them, magic fueling its muscles to sprint ahead of its master. “Keep running!” she screamed at Zully, shoving him ahead while she spun to face the cat head on.

“Bai--”

“RUN!” she bellowed. She watched the leopard sprint closer, closer, and then hit it with a powerful Frost Nova, instantly freezing its paws to the dirt. The leopard yowled in pain and surprise, body twisting madly as it struggled to break the ice trapping it in place. Bai spun back toward the shore, Blinking once to catch up with Zully as she grabbed him and lunged into the ocean. “Look for air bubbles as soon as we go underwater,” she instructed. “If we make this harder on them, maybe they won’t follow.”

Zully let out a sound that closely resembled a “ye” as he struggled to swim alongside her. Belatedly, she realized she didn’t even ask if he knew how to swim at all; what if her attempts to protect him only hastened his death by drowning? She forced her panic down, forced back the memories of screaming children and shrieking gargoyles and the cracking of shipboards. “Deep breath now,” she said, drawing in as much air as she could and diving downward, Blinking and pulling Zully under the water with her. She had no choice; this had to work.

Only a few meters down, she felt the first arrow pierce her leg. Biting back an outcry of pain so she didn’t lose her air, Bai channeled as much mana as she could muster into a protective shield around them. She couldn’t maintain this for long, especially not against an entire onslaught, but it would have to do. She kept pushing deeper, looking frantically about for any source of air she could use to bolster them. She felt Zully tighten his grip around her hand. Please hang on, she thought. You can do this, Zully. Just hold your breath a little longer.

Another sound, this time of a blast of boiling water bouncing off the Mana Shield she’d conjured. She felt the strain on her reserves; she couldn’t take much more of this. Please please please, this HAS to work...

Another barrage of arrows; one hit her shoulder, and she immediately felt the seep of poison making its way through her bloodstream, causing her vision to waver and her stomach to turn. She Blinked again, then faltered; she hadn’t propelled herself and Zully forward nearly as much as she’d hoped, and now the dizziness and nausea was causing her to become disoriented. Fighting back the urge to vomit, she risked a quick glance over her shoulder and saw that three of their pursuers had jumped into the water after them: the dwarf hunter, a human paladin, and a gnome mage -- all of whom had the ability to quickly close the gap between them. Another shape took form behind them: a manatee, closing in even faster. A druid. Bai’s heart sank; she couldn’t outrun a druid in aquatic form.

Abruptly the druid shifted into a new form -- an owlkin -- and Bai reacted out of instinct. She pulled Zully into her arms and used Ice Block, a last-ditch effort to shield them form the inevitable attack by encasing them both in a solid block of ice.

She saw the shimmer of white light hit the surface of the ice, the arcane energy from the Moonfire crackling harmlessly across the frozen barrier. Just beyond, their pursuers came closer, biding their time as they waited for the ice to crack and break on its own. Bai fought back tears as she watched their distorted forms circling like sharks, waiting to finish off their prey. These horrible, bloodthirsty people... almost as bad as the Scourge, she decided.

She felt Zully trembling in her arms; she couldn’t tell if it was from hypothermia, fear, or if his oxygen reserves were tapping out already. Maybe all three.

She couldn’t let him die. Not here, not like this, and certainly not to these monsters calling themselves “adventurers.”

A loud pop as the first of the cracks appeared in the ice. They were almost out of time.

There was only one option left. Bai channeled the last reserves of her energy, tapping into the ley energies she could sense around them. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she realized what she was doing was dangerous -- trying to cast a portal while they were still encased in ice. She could feel the edges of the portal ripple and push and strain against the confines of their frozen tomb. They couldn’t fit through it, not like this... their only hope was if it would spring into a large enough size the moment the ice broke for them to slip through.

Another pop, an echoing crack. Bai sensed the edges of her vision start to darken as she strained against the effects of the poison and the effort of holding the portal and her own growing need for air. She willed herself to hold on just a little longer.

Finally, the ice broke with a deafening crack. The edges of the portal burst outward and -- without waiting for them to stabilize, there was simply not time -- Bai gave one last desperate kick forward, shoving herself and Zully through the opening...

Inside the mages sanctum within the Sunfury Spire, Narinth, the city’s portal trainer, yawned sleepily as she watched the tired scene play out in front of her. The day was the same as it always was... Elrodan continued to “practice” his various Polymorph spells on Aurosalia, who protested every time but continued to agree to be his test subject... meanwhile, the other mage trainers studied their tomes and tried their best to ignore the louder mages in the midst. And then there was her, tasked with maintaining the portal to the Blasted Lands and occasionally teaching mages how to tap into the ley lines of Azeroth to find their way back to Silvermoon. It was all incredibly boring, and some days, Narinth wished that something new and exciting would happen to bring some color to her day.

In front of her, a portal shimmered into view and began to expand. Again, nothing new; mages brought people into Silvermoon on a regular basis. She suppressed a yawn, and instead straightened up, fixing a fake smile on her face as she prepared to welcome whatever traveler this was to the city.

The portal widened further, bulging as if holding back some great force. Narinth frowned; this was... unusual. Was the mage on the other side struggling to tap into the ley lines properly?

A deep rumble echoed from the portal, drawing the attention of the other mages. The portal swelled massively, rising above the floor slightly. Narinth took a step backward, alarmed and almost frightened at this unexpected turn of events. Whatever was about to happen...?

With an echoing bang, the portal burst open, a massive deluge of water exploding outward and gushing into the room. Aurosalia let out a scream as she snapped out of the giraffe polymorph, the torrent of water sweeping her, Elrodan, and one of the mage trainers closest to the archway out into the main room. Narinth grabbed desperately onto the side of the archway to keep from getting swept away herself as the relentless onslaught of water continued to surge out of the oversized portal.

As Narinth watched, two people -- a sin’dorei and a troll -- tumbled out of the portal; both looked barely conscious. The sin’dorei was familiar; Narinth recognized her as someone she had personally trained; the troll was not. Clearly the sin’dorei had been the mage responsible for this portal. In her half-drowned state though, she didn’t look capable of closing it.

Bracing herself, Narinth shoved herself against the current, struggling to reach the portal so she could close it before anymore damage was done...

Bai could barely tell which way was up as she and Zully tumbled through the portal and the flood of water into Sunfury Spire. She must have briefly blacked out, because the next thing she realized, she was being sat upright by one of the Royal Guards. Beyond him, she could see the portal trainer struggling to close the portal that Bai had opened, fighting against the unending flood of water from Durotar’s ocean shores.

Bai tried to stand up, to help close the portal and the flood she’d inadvertently created, but her body refused to cooperate until the portal was closed and the flood of water had instead become a soggy trickle sloshing across the floor. What finally prompted her to move was the sight of Zully laying in an unmoving heap just a few meters away.

“Zully!” she gasped, pulling away from the guard and forcing herself to move toward him. Fear crawled its way into her throat... surely, after all of that...

She saw him move, slowly raising himself up on shaky arms as he started coughing up water. She made it to his side just as his arms gave out, catching him before he hit the ground again. For what felt like an eternity, she patted his back as he continued to cough and gag, forcing as much of the water out of his body as he could. Finally he collapsed into Bai’s arms, trembling as he wheezed in exhaustion. He stared up at her with bloodshot eyes and an almost detached expression.

“Are you alright?” Bai asked worriedly.

“Tink so...” came the hoarse reply. “Alive at least... you be ‘kay, mon?”

“I...” She wasn’t; not really. Squeezing her eyes shut against the tears, she hugged Zully tightly. “Well.. we’re alive and that’s the important part.”

“Y... yeah mon... we... we be alive...” She felt his body slacken in her arms. “But Zully’s family... his father... dat leopard... we couldn’t... Zully couldn’t...” His voice trailed off as he buried himself deeper into her arms, body shaking with quiet tears.

Guilt and empathetic pain crashed down on her. “I’m so sorry, Zully...”

She heard a splashing behind her, and suddenly-- “WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!”

Bai tensed and looked up; she felt Zully shift in her grasp as he, too, looked in the direction of the angry voice...

Bai found herself staring into the furious glare of Grand Magister Rommath, standing chest-deep in the pool of water that occupied the bulk of the now-flooded floor pit of the Spire’s throne room. Behind him, Ranger General Halduron Brightwing and -- Bai’s blood ran cold -- Regent-Lord Lor’themar Theron were slowly wading their way toward her and Zully, pushing aside scattered cushions and furniture floating in the water, their expressions unreadable but somewhere between shock and anger. The guards who were normally stationed in the throne room were clinging to the ramp leading to the Inner Sanctum and the Orb of Translocation that connected Silvermoon to Undercity.

“Is this your doings, mage?” Rommath snapped at her, eyes flashing angrily. “Do you have any idea the amount of chaos and destruction your carelessness has caused?”

Bai sank dejectedly, unable to form any words with which to defend herself. “I apologize, Magister... General...” The last words came out at a near-whisper: “Your Regency...”

“Do you think a mere ‘I apologize’ will excuse this... this... deplorable conduct?” Rommath continued, his voice growing even harsher. “And of course this is how a representative of the Kirin Tor must think is proper behavior for our city... but a sin’dorei like you -- you should be ashamed of yourself, disrespecting us in this way. I have half a mind to report you to Rhonin himself!”

Bai lowered her gaze to the floor, fighting back tears of frustrated defeat. She and Zully may have been out of danger... but they were clearly not out of trouble.

((To be concluded...))

#bai's stories #world of warcraft #wotlk #warmane #fantasy rp #mage

[slasherhaven]

Hi! Can you Do a Bo Sinclair soulmate imagine where the reader meets him while she’s with Carly, Wade, Nick, and the rest? Maybe where you feel your soulmates pain, or something. Sorry if this is too specific lol.

Bo Sinclair X Reader

Soulmate AU: shared pain and shared scars:

You had been friends with Carly for a little while now, which was how you got invited on the group’s road trip. You weren’t a massive fan of football and didn’t care much about the game you were going to see but you thought that getting away could be a little fun.

It was the night before the game when the group decided to camp out for the night and keep driving in the morning. After setting up the tents, you all sat around with drinks, talking among yourselves. 

As the group talked and laughed, you held your wrist in your hand, gently tracing the faint scarring with your thumb, an absentminded habit you had developed years ago. 

“Damn, they look nasty” Nick’s voice made you look away from the others and towards him, seeing how he eyed your wrists. 

“Leave her alone, Nick” Carly scolded her brother, already knowing about the scars you had received due to your unfortunate soulmate. 

“Are they yours?” Nick asked, completely ignoring his sister. You weren’t sure whether he was genuinely curious or actually trying to get under your skin. 

“...no” you answered honestly. 

“Unlucky bastard” Nick muttered before turning his attention back to his drink, like your conversation never even happened.

With everyone’s attention going back to more light-hearted conversation, you looked down at your scarred wrist and sighed. 

Carly had once asked you if you held any resentment for your soulmate, as have others in your life, and you had been perfectly honest with all of them. You held no resentment, you weren’t angry with your soulmate, you were nothing but sympathetic towards them. It wasn’t their fault that somebody hurt them like this, you just hoped that they had been able to get away from it.

Though, you doubted it. The injuries aren’t as frequent as they were in childhood, however they still occurred and they could be pretty bad. Once, you had even woken up in the middle of the night, bleeding from what looked like a knife wound.

“Here” Carly’s voice brought you out of your thoughts, making you look up to see her standing beside you with a smile. You returned her smile and accepted the can of beer she held out to you.

Opening the can, you hissed slightly as your thumb slipped and you cut yourself on the sharp metal, cursing your own clumsiness. You brought your thumb up to your mouth before lowering it again, taking a sip of your drink. 

- 

“Ah shit” Bo quietly cursed at the sudden stinging sensation in his thumb, it wasn’t particularly painful, just a shock.

He lifted his hand, noticing the slight cut on his thumb, and sighed. His soulmate must have done something stupid but he couldn’t find it within him to feel annoyed about it, not after everything he must have put them through.

He would probably be returning the favour pretty soon, since Lester had informed him of a group camping out nearby, they should be coming into town pretty soon. 

-

After the car broke down and everyone decided that there was nothing they could do to fix it, a man named Lester had offered to take three of you into a nearby town so that you could visit the garage there. So, you, Carly, and wade ended up walking into the town that Lester had left you on the outskirts on.

Walking under the hot Louisiana sun, you had to pull your jacket off and tie the sleeves around your waist. The three of you headed straight to the garage, which was easy to find, but found that there was nobody there. 

“Maybe there will be someone in the church?” Wade suggested, nodding towards the church at the end of the street.

“I’ll stay here in case someone comes back” you offered, thinking that the owner that Lester mentioned could be back any minute. 

“You sure?” Carly asked, not too sure about leaving you alone in a strange place. 

“What’s the worst that could happen?” you shrugged.

Carly and Wade nodded before heading to the church to find somebody who could help while you waited at the garage.

You sat down on the curb, glancing around the street. From where you were sitting, the church was just out of sight but you could see the top of the Wax Museum in the slight distance. Ambrose was a small town, extremely quiet. It almost seemed empty, only the sound of birds flying overhead breaking the silence. 

After a little while of waiting, you started to wonder why your two friends hadn’t come back. Surely they would have found somebody by now and if they hadn’t you thought they would come to tell you that. You were just about to go looking for them when footsteps caught your attention. You looked in the direction of the church, seeing a man in a full black suit walking towards you.

You paused for a moment, just staring at him as he approached. It felt like the air was sucked from your lungs, like the earth stood still just for a moment. The strange feeling was all consuming, you didn’t notice the falter in his steps that suggested that he might have experienced something similar. The sensation reminded you of the description Carly had given you when she was explaining what it’s like to meet your soulmate. Though his casualness in his following question made you doubt it. 

“Can I help you?” the man asked with a charming southern drawl. 

“Do you work here?” you asked as you stood up, dusting off your shorts. 

“Own the place” he nodded before walking over to the garage and unlocking the front door. “Are you here with two friends? I didn’t catch their names” he asked, nodding at you to follow him inside. 

“Yeah, Carly and Wade. You saw them?” you nodded as you followed him into the garage, feeling some relief to be out of the harsh sun. 

“Said they needed a fan belt, I sent them up to the wax museum to kill some time before I could help them. Didn’t realise they left someone else waiting here” he explained. You frowned a little, it would have been nice of them to have let you know rather than just leaving alone on the curb. 

Shaking the thought away, you put another smile on your face. “I’m Y/n, by the way” you introduced yourself politely, holding your hand out for him to shake. 

“Bo Sinclair” he introduced himself and took your hand, giving you a firm hand shake. His charismatic smile remained on his face, something closer to a smirk than a friendly smile. His name spoken in that alluring southern accent. You simply couldn’t help but be a little charmed by him.

His smirk faltered for a moment as he glanced down at your hands, noticing the scars that wrapped around your wrists. He paused for a moment, holding your hand a little too long as his gaze lingered on the scars. 

Bo didn’t comment on it, so the small feeling you had that his man could possibly be your soulmate left your mind. There was no way he didn’t recognise them if he had the same ones. They were too unique.

In that case, you figured his staring was just because of the scarring. You had experienced people staring at them from time to time, wondering how you got them, but you never let it bother you. You weren’t ashamed of them. 

Bo plastered the smirk back on his face as he released your hand. He couldn’t help but catch himself stare a little. You didn’t hide the scarring like he did. Yours were also a little fainter than his, probably because you had them tended too properly unlike him and they healed better. The intense, all consuming, feeling from earlier and now seeing the scars so similar to his own. It couldn’t be a coincidence... 

“You seem a little over dressed for a mechanic” you commented to break the awkwardness, understanding the tension that had developed but the two of you seemed to move past it relatively easily. 

“I was at a funeral before you’re two friends crashed it over a goddamn fanbelt” Bo told you, irritation clear in his voice. You couldn’t blame him in the slightest. 

“Oh...I’m so sorry” you apologised on behalf of your friends, now feeling a little bad for dragging him away to fix up your car. “Who did you loose, if you don’t mind me asking?” you asked, hoping to be sympathetic without prying too much. 

“My mother” Bo told you, making you even more apologetic. 

“I’m so sorry...about my friends and that you have to fix our car” you frowned, feeling even more awful than before. 

“Ain’t your fault, darlin’“ Bo assured you, truly not seeming angry with you. 

You couldn’t help but blush a little at the petname, you just couldn’t deny feeling an attraction towards this man. Having felt an instant connection to him. It was strange, and you were already finding yourself a little longing, knowing you’ll have to leave once the car was sorted. 

“C’mon, let’s see if I can find that fanbelt for you” Bo’s smirk quickly returned as he gestured you to follow him further into the garage. “One of your friends told me what size you needed” he informed you as he started searching through his supply of fanbelts. “And...we don’t have it” he hummed.

“You don’t? What now?” you asked with a frown, having no idea what you were supposed to do now. Where the hell were Carly and Wade?

“Don’t worry, no need to frown, sweetheart. We have the rest of the delivery up at the house, we’ll have the right size for ya” Bo assured you with a charming wink.

“You could have lead with that” you chuckled to yourself, feeling relieved and trying to ignore the way he had winked at you.

“C’mon, we’ll go up to the house and get it for ya. I’ll get my brother to tow your car and we’ll get you all sorted” he told you, quickly putting you at ease and making you feel like everything was going to work you.

“Thank you so much, Bo” you sighed, giving him a sincere smile.

“It’s not a problem” Bo nodded. “We’ll take my truck, it’s just outside” he informed you, placing a hand between your shoulder blades as he guided you outside.

The two of you got into his truck and Bo started driving towards his house. Normally this would be something that you would be suspicious about but something about him put you at ease.

“Those scars of yours...they’re pretty intense” Bo finally commented on them, he needed to know what you had to say. “They yours?” he asked, reminding you a little of your talk with Nick the night before.

“No, they’re my soulmate’s” you told him, gently rubbing your wrists.

“You must have really ripped into him when you met them, huh?” he joked half-heartedly, something in his tone that made you curious.

“Oh, I haven’t met them...but I wouldn’t rip into them” you frowned at the accusation. “I’ve had these scars since childhood, which means they likely did too...it’s not their fault somebody hurt them. I’m not angry at them at all” you shook your head, clearly meaning every word you said.

“I’d be pretty pissed” Bo scoffed before his voice softened slightly, “but you’re probably a good person.”

“They were hurt by somebody, how can I be angry at them for that? I’m angry at whoever did it to them...honestly, I just hope they’re alright now” you confessed. “Just wanna give them a hug, y’know?” you laughed lightly.

“I hope my soulmate feels the same as you, they’ve probably been through hell because of me” Bo told you.

You weren't sure what that meant, of course. You didn't know what Bo had been through to worry about his soulmate's reaction to him like that but you were sure your soulmate had some similar concerns and you didn't want to pry further.

“They won’t be mad at you” you promised him with a smile.

Bo gave you a slight smile as he pulled up outside of his house, the way he looked at you leaving you curious. You couldn't quite explain it.

As Bo and you climbed out of the truck, Bo knew that you were his soulmate and that he couldn't let you go. A part of him had been relieved to hear that you didn't harbour any resentment towards him but he knew that if you didn't hate him now, you certainly would by the end of the day.

Still, Bo was selfish. He could let his soulmate, especially such a good one like you, slip between his fingers. You were his, and you had come home. He wouldn't be letting you leave any time soon.

#bo sinclair x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x reader #slashers #slasher #my writing

[fromthedeskoftheraven]

Always kiss me goodnight

Pairing: Din Djarin x female reader

Content:  Pining, kissing, mention of food, oh no there’s only one bed,   helmetless Din (but it’s dark), baby Yoda is an adorable tiny terror

Word count: ~2200

Note:  I swear I was only going to write one Pedro character fic. Has this   kind of thing been done a million times? Yes. Am I doing it once more?   Also yes. It’s self-indulgent hours and this little love letter to our favorite space dad and his green baby has been nagging at my mind since I  first watched the show.

Tagging the people who asked (If anyone wants to be tagged or un-tagged in any future fics since it seems  I’m well and truly back on my bs just say the word): @songsformonkeys @yespolkadotkitty @emesispo @beccaplaying

———————————————

Fatigue has caught up with the little green child now that his belly is full, and crankiness along with it. The Mandalorian has been known to lovingly  call his adopted son a womp rat, but when the baby gets overtired, a rancor is more like it.

This time, you can hardly blame him. The three of you have spent the better part of the day traveling, finally landing on this backwater planet late in the evening. With some searching and a small fortune in credits, Din managed to find a safe, out-of-the-way place to stay, leaving you and the child to eat and settle in while he went to scout the bounty’s location for the next  day’s work.

As the child’s fussing gains momentum, you hustle to the small sink in the corner of the room.

“We’ll wash your face and go straight to bed,” you promise him, letting the   water warm before wetting a cloth and wringing it out thoroughly.

In the mirror, your own face looks as exhausted as he obviously feels. The bed in question is little more than a pallet with a mattress and some  blankets, but it might as well be a royal welcome at this stage of the game.

Despite your gentleness, the baby erupts in an indignant whine as you wipe the cloth over his face and ears. “I know, little love,” you soothe while he struggles in protest. “Almost done.”

He quiets when you scoop him up into your arms, pressing a kiss to his fuzzy head. You hum bits of a song from your childhood, rocking him from side to side, and his little face crumples with a yawn. His tiny fingers curl into the fabric of your tunic and his head goes heavy on your shoulder, but still he fidgets, making pathetic little sounds in the direction of the door.

“I know,” you murmur again, still swaying on the spot. “He’ll be back soon.”

You’ve grown to love the child and you know he’s fond of you, but as far as   he’s concerned Din is the one who hangs the stars in the sky. He’s always a little agitated when his father is out of sight, and truth be told, so are you.

“I know what we can do,” you say. “Let’s make a plate for your buir for when he comes back. Don’t you think that’ll be nice for him?”

Neither you nor Din are sure how much the child actually understands, but you don’t let it stop you talking to him. If nothing else it makes you feel a little less alone in the long hours when Din is hunting his quarries.

His drooping ears twitch upward with this suggestion. He watches with interest as you lay a plate with some of the fresh fruit, bread, and stewed meat Din bought from the innkeeper for your supper.

“There we go. Now then, bedtime for little ones.”

You turn to survey the sleeping area with a stab of nerves. The minuscule size of the room isn’t a challenge -- the Razor Crest has made you an expert in living in small spaces -- but the lone bed is a wrinkle you hadn’t expected.

Din, ever pragmatic, had been quick to point out that it was plenty big enough for the three of you, and it was only one night. He was right, of course.

Still, you’d never been so grateful for dim lighting, sure that your secret longing for the Mandalorian was written plainly on your flustered face.

You couldn’t have said exactly when your feelings for Din Djarin had strayed  into dangerous territory. Somewhere in the months of traveling with him, caring for his child, helping maintain his ship, reminding him to eat, and tending the worst of his wounds your initial wariness turned to admiration, admiration to fondness, and fondness to something alarmingly like love.

It’s a fool’s errand.

For all his kindness to you Din is an island of a man, set apart from the world in  his shell of beskar and the even more unyielding armor of his creed.  Even if his heart is big enough to encompass the child, you don’t dare to hope there’s room for you too.

And now this bed -- this one kriffing bed -- sits there mocking you and all your silly fantasies of you and Din and the child being a real family, bound together by love instead of convenience.

You turn off the light overhead, leaving only the small, sickly lamp at the table to light Din’s way to his supper.

The mattress is clean and the blankets are a bit threadbare but soft, and the baby only has the energy to grumble a little when you lay him down on the side closest to the wall and tuck the thickest of them around   him. Yawning widely, he stretches out a hand toward you, fingers grabbing at the air.

The gesture warms your weary heart.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”

You lie down beside him and face away from the table, mindful that Din will need privacy to eat. The little body shuffles closer to you, curling into your shoulder, and a surge of fierce affection pricks your eyes with tears. You wrap your arm around the baby to hold him close as the full brunt of the long day overtakes you.

“Good night, little love,” you say around a yawn, just as your eyes fall closed.

***

You wake with a start. The windowless room is pitch black, and in the absence of any landmarks your brain races to orient itself.

At your back, the child’s soft, snuffling breaths. A well-worn blanket draped over you and a slightly lumpy mattress beneath.

The inn, you remember in a flash.

At your front...something warm and broad and solid. You’ve nestled into it  in your sleep, one arm thrown over it, your hand grasping soft fabric. A familiar, comforting scent surrounds you, a scent you cherish from laundry days and the cramped quarters of a small ship.

Oh, Maker.

You clearly slept through Din coming back and getting into bed, and now you’re wrapped around him like a second set of clothes. The rush of blood into your cheeks flames so hot you worry he must feel it through the base layers he’s wearing to sleep.

Shrinking into yourself, you begin to pull away, as stealthily as you can. If you  can just get back to your own side of the bed and brazen it out in the  morning, maybe he’ll never be the wiser.

Slowly, so slowly, you  release the handful of his shirt you’re holding and move your arm from where it’s resting across his chest...

In the darkness, a hand encircles your wrist.

Oh, Maker.

You’ve watched Din wrestle enough uncooperative bounties into the carbonite   chamber to know you’re not getting away from him if he doesn’t want you to. But his grip on your wrist is light, gentle. His thumb rests on the place where your pulse is fluttering like a trapped bird, whether from embarrassment or his closeness you’re not entirely sure.

“Din.” It comes out barely a whisper, sabotaged by the sudden dryness of your mouth. You swallow hard and try again. “Din, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.”

“It’s all right.”

His voice is a revelation. Free of the modulator’s rasp, it’s warmer, richer, somehow softer and more resonant at the same time. You’ve never even been in the same room with him when he has his helmet off, and the realization that he’s right there, a breath away, is dizzying.

Silence stretches before he speaks again, more quietly. “It’s...nice.”

Your brain fails you entirely. “Oh.”

You search desperately for something more intelligent to say, but his thumb is drawing feather-light circles over the soft skin of your wrist and your pulse is thundering in your ears. Those touches, so delicate from a man so strong, blur your thoughts like liquor and drag a confession from your lips before you can bite it back. “I’ve always wanted to hold you.”

You wait, blessing the darkness that swallows your shame,  and hope he’s not going to tell you to pack your things and find a job in this bleak little skug hole for when he leaves you behind.

Instead, you feel the mattress shift and know he’s turned toward you.

The sudden fear of breaking Din’s creed is overwhelming, even in the dark. Instinct has you squeezing your eyes shut so tightly that white specks float behind your eyelids.

“I can’t see you,” you say quickly. “I promise.”

“I know.”

His thumb moves from your wrist across your palm, uncurling your fingers to map each one in turn, trailing up to the tips and back down again. You wonder how long it’s been since he’s touched anyone’s bare skin.

He sighs, which is nothing new, but this one doesn’t sound exasperated. It sounds almost...content. “Mesh’la,” he murmurs. “Beautiful girl. I thought so the first time I saw you.”

You’re overcome with a wild, childish urge to pinch yourself to make sure you’re not dreaming.

His praise gives you a rush of courage to ask for something you’ve only dreamed of. “Din...can I touch you? Is it allowed?”

His only answer is to cradle your hand in his, bringing it to rest on his cheek.

Stubble prickles your palm as your fingers slowly trace his scruffy jawline and the thick column of his neck, savoring the feel of him. His hair is soft, long enough to curl at its nape, and when you comb your fingers through the tousled strands he makes a low, strangled sound in the back of his throat. It reverberates through your body like a bell, making your head swim with the thrill of affecting him.

You only just resist the urge to suck a mark into the spot where his pulse races under his warm skin.

Your greedy hands move on to discover a strong brow and the curved bridge of a prominent nose. A mustache frames lips that are more plush than you imagined, a note of sensuality in an angular, warrior’s face.

“Can you tell me what color your eyes are?” you ask, fingertips traveling over his cheekbone.

“Brown.”

Brown. You see them in your mind’s eye, soft and dark, expressing all the   things he doesn’t say out loud. Stroking his lower lip, you repeat his own word back to him: “Mesh’la.”

Din’s mouth twitches under your fingers. “You can’t see me.”

He has no idea. His body warming yours and the sweetness of his voice   calling you beautiful is everything you’ve ever wanted and thought yourself unworthy of having, and he thinks you’re only talking about his  face.

You cup his cheek, smile at him, even though he can’t see it. “I don’t need to, Din. I just know it. I always have.”

“You’re so good to me.” His hand catches yours in his large one, his voice   rough with some nameless emotion. “To me, and the baby. All the time.”

“You deserve everything good,” you whisper past the lump in your throat.

He’s caressing your hand again, holding it in place to press his lips to the pad of your thumb. “I want to kiss you, cyare.”

Your exhale is somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “Please.”

His hand moves to cradle your head as he closes the distance between you. If you were expecting him to pounce, you’re completely unprepared for him to linger, breath hovering over your lips for a long, agonizing moment as he brushes his nose over yours.

You’re almost startled by the first touch of his lips, a little chapped but warm and lush. His mustache is softer than you thought it would be, and so are his kisses, a series of slow, gentle presses of his mouth. Like he wants to do with his lips what you’ve done with your hands, sketching and learning.

It’s only when you slide your hand into his hair again that something inside him breaks. His arm snakes around your waist, holding you to the refuge of his broad chest as he slants his mouth over yours, claiming you in earnest. He’s possessive and tender in equal measure and the tease of  his tongue against yours, his teeth nipping your lower lip, the span of his hand on your back has you drunk on him and whispering his name between kisses like a prayer.

...Apparently not quietly enough.

A little hand scrabbling at your shoulder blade brings you out of your haze. As you pull away from Din the baby is climbing over you as quickly as his short limbs will let him. He wedges himself between the two of you with a delighted coo at Din, hands flailing to find his father’s face.

Din heaves a sigh, but there’s no malice in it. “I’m here, ad’ika,” he says, with unmistakable fondness. “We’re all here.”

You can’t stifle a breathless laugh as the baby snuggles into Din’s arms, making himself comfortable for the night.

Your Mandalorian surrenders good-naturedly, wrapping an arm around you with  the child tucked safely in the middle. He presses a kiss to your forehead before settling on the pillow beside you. “Sleep, cyare.”

Drowsiness is already fuzzing the edges of your mind again, but it catches on the word he’s said twice now. “What does that mean?” you murmur. “Cyare?”

You feel him smile against your temple, one last brush of his lips. “Share my bunk tomorrow night, and I’ll tell you.”

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #pedro pascal #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x female reader #the mandalorian x female reader

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Let Chaos Reign

Chapter 3- Don’t Provoke The Bear

Summary: After getting your shit rocked by the Avengers, you now wake up in a strange new place even more pissed off then you already were. Also that one pretty looking dark haired guy won’t leave you alone.

Warning: reader being chaotic, Bucky trying his best

Masterlist - Chapter 2

Eyes still closed you can feel a soft pressure holding you up, slowly parting your eyelids, you’re soon greeted by the sight of bright lights circling you overhead, though they remain unmoving. On further inspection, once you force yourself into a seated position, you take notice that you’re in some kind of flat spherical glass holding cell.

Blinking groggily, you look down to find your clothes are all still on your body, suddenly a pang of fear hits you at the thought of your mothers necklace. Reaching for it, you’re relieved to feel it’s still with you. Thanking whoever will listen for that bit of good fortune in this otherwise adverse predicament.

Shifting your gaze back to the current situation of the room, you’re able to see around to some sort of large cavernous lab area with a multitude of that armored man from earlier, though you can tell there is no vital life that stirs within them. Guards maybe? Decoys? You have no idea.

Suddenly your eyes catch movement from the left door, a dark skinned man in black clothing and a single patch over his left eye appears. “Good morning. I’m Director Fury.” He smiles with a friendly nod, arms clasped behind his back while he walks over to you, “Or should I say afternoon?”

Getting off the elevated bed, you wander towards the thick glass keeping you from him, “Where am I?”

Fury nods, “Better question you should be asking is how long you’ve been out for, cause damn, you can sleep.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

He chuckles knowingly, “I almost couldn’t believe it myself when the team told me. But wow, holding back both Vision and Wanda for as long as you did. I’m thoroughly impressed.” He boasts for you, genuinely fascinated by your daring feat.

Right, those two.

You frown, gaze hard set and intimidating, “Where the fuck am I?”

“Well for one, you’ve been out for a whole 15 hours since they found you unconscious but alive after getting blasted by Vision and Wanda. Weren’t sure if you were gonna make it, seems the universe has yet to take you out.”

Pursing your lips together in irritation, you glare through the glass at him, “Well I’m not exactly from here so....doesn’t matter. Tell me what this place is and where the fuck I am!”

He holds up his hands, “Alright no need to get heated.” Before clasping them behind his back as he begins pacing slowly back and forth in front of you, “You’ve created quit the stir since arriving in Ireland. My intelligence first received a message indicating a storm greater then a category four hurricane, which by our standards is pretty damn massive. Soon a fun little video of you throwing some busses around like rag dolls peaked my interest. And give or take a couple days, here you are.”

Giving him a deadpanned stare, you cross your arms, “The mystery of the century. Where am I?”

“Alright fine I won’t leave you in suspense, you’re in New York State. In a very secure and safe facility home to the Avengers. Nice place huh?” He smiles, dark eyes looking elsewhere as he gives a little once over of the room.

“I’m in a cell.”

“Yes. But it’s a clean cell.”

Suddenly you slam your left fist against the thick glass causing him to flinch, “You have no right to hold me here! Release me. Now.” You growl darkly, golden irises appearing to almost glow with your building vexation.

“Can’t do that.”

“Alright then, if that’s how it’s going to be. Then I’ll do it myself.”

A second later he’s genuinely startled as you cock your arm back before slamming it into the clear thick glass. With the power of bending the material and your people’s strength, the glass cracks into a fist sized area. Satisfied with this, you do it again and again before a voice startles you.

[Miss, please refrain from breaking that. Mr. Stark has requested that you stop immediately.]

“Agreed.” Says Fury as he hustles over to the far wall, bringing his arm up to his mouth, he speaks but you can’t tell what he’s saying. What nonsense is he even doing?

Ignoring both of them, you punch the glass a fourth time before the voice interrupts again. [Miss. Please suspend your advances. Mr. Stark is on his way.]

Halting your fist from punching a fifth time, you take a step back and bring yourself to the center. Positioning yourself in a fighters stance, legs slightly bent, arms held about 90 degrees; you thrust them forward causing the metal contraption to creak and whine in protest.

Holding your arms close to your body now, you make two tight fists before violently punching at the air; the metal holding in the glass slams forcefully against the far wall. Destroying a couple of those stoic armored sentinels in the process.

“What the fuck?!” Yelps Fury in surprise as he falls to the floor from the force of the impact, “Hey! You better stay right the fuck over there!” He warns while cowering in the corner, nothing to really threaten you with but his voice. That is until he pulls out a stunted black gun, like the ones you have seen on the Norwegian police. You ignore his threats anyways.

Taking your first steps out of the desolated cell feels almost euphoric, your body embraces how strong and dangerous you feel among this place and what has presented itself to you within her walls. A man and his words, a disembodied voice telling you to stop fighting your way to freedom. Ridiculous, they have no idea who you are.

You take a single step left when the man, Fury, shouts loudly, “Stay right there!” Your eyes find the gun held tightly within his grasp, “I will shoot!”

You don’t care for this shallow warning, there are things in this universe more important then a mortal mans fearful intimidation. Opening up your palm, the gun flies out of his hands while he gasps with a start, eyes wide and panicked as you turn the short nosed barrel towards him. Closing your fist, the gun combusts to nothing more then destroyed metal and hard plastic as it clatters to the floor.

He watches in disbelief as you then turn to your left before taking the first door that reads exit above it; you wander past a long hallway until you come across a door leading to a long flight of stairs to some floor with a sign reading - Parking Area - the door is obviously closed.

This is too easy, you think suspiciously, somethings not right.

Opening up the door, you’re greeted by a large cavernous glass and metal room holding a large black aircraft on the far end, a couple more vehicles parked in various areas spread about the place. And not a soul in sight.

Hustling along into the room, you’re able to reach the door on the other side, opening it, you cautiously stick your head out. Ahead of you is a large green yard stretching all the way back to a tree line with trees placed neatly along a road leading up to the facilities main entrance area.

To your far left is a large river, but still, you have no idea where New York is. This is all unfamiliar territory to you, so finding the Ancient One is going to be a tough fucking job.

Not seeing anyone, you take your first couple steps into the open. Soon you’ve made it halfway across the grass headed for the tree line before the sound of gravel crunching causes you to pause and turn around to face the intruder.

So close. The woods are right there.

Clenching your fists, you keep a defensive stance as you stare him down, this man is undoubtedly familiar. He’s dressed in boots, jeans, a pair of cloves for some reason, and a faded grey t-shirt that’s mostly covered by his forest green jacket, while his long dark hair is washed and sits handsomely around his face. Blue eyes staring at you apprehensively, “We’re not here to harm you.” Cautiously says the man in a soft tone of voice, hoping not to provoke you again.

“Then why was I just locked in a cell?”

He pauses for a moment, “Uh, okay, yeah that looks bad.”

“Precisely.

You turn to leave, yet his voice makes you stay, “You don’t have to be on your own you know. I don’t know what you’re looking for, or who....but doing it alone will only take longer. We could help you, if you want.” He suggests with the tiniest hint of a smile. You don’t trust him.

You look towards the lake before finding his gaze yet again, your golden eyes admittedly sadder as you softly answer him, “No one can help me.”

He takes a step forward, face softening, “I felt the same way once. Alone and confused, not sure where to go, no one to trust. Believe me, it sucked......so, I’m just hoping you’ll listen. That’s it.”

“Well, I don’t particularly like any of you. And so far you’ve all gotten in my way and fought me....I have no reason to trust a thing you say.”

He purses his lips together and nods, you’ve got him there, but nonetheless he takes another step forward, “Sorry about that.” He mutters while rubbing the back of his neck, “Uh, let me try and start over....I’m Bucky. And I am definitely not here to fight you. Promise.”

Eyeing him up suspiciously, you take a step back, “Y/N Lavpranthus..of Vanaheim.” You finally reveal, albeit with a smidge of apprehension, however you are not one to hold back your own name if someone is to speak freely theirs.

Bucky nods, incredibly grateful for your calm demeanor for the moment and this first bout of information given willingly by you, though he has not a single clue where Vanaheim is, this is progress. Good progress; perhaps the team was right to send him out first as their guinea pig against the big bad wolf.

Stupid in retrospect, but so far it’s appeared an effective strategy instead of Tony’s idea which was to have Vision and Wanda knock you out again. Not an efficient way to make friends who can throw busses around like its nothing but a bag of grapes...and all without even touching them.

Bucky reveals the flash of a smile as you slowly calm your once defensive stance, though you’re still wary of his true intentions, “Y/N.” Repeats Bucky with a genuine grin as he tests out your name on his tongue, “Never heard that one before, it’s beautiful.

Taken aback by his kindness and sincere compliment to your name, you finally let your guard down, “My mother gave that to me, it was her sisters name, though she died before I met her. Guess it doesn’t matter now...” He frowns as you share a dismal look with the ground, remembering the events that brought you here in the first place. 

Family.

Soon your anger rises once more as you think of your brother, that conniving piece of shit, “Bucky....I-I can’t stay here. I have to go, you wouldn’t understand. And I don’t want you to be involved....fuck....he probably already has scouts hunting for me.”

Bucky’s brows furrow in confusion, who would you be talking about he has no idea, “Y/N, no one could hurt you here, alright. This place is pretty damn guarded. I mean, we are the Avengers.”

Shaking your head you take a step backwards, “No, none of you understand how dangerous he is, I’m lucky he didn’t kill me when he had the chance.”

“Who tried to kill you?”

Finding his worried gaze once more, you back closer towards the woods, a knowingly loathsome look crossing your features as you frown, “My brother.” And with that do you make a swift exit into the trees, out of sight in an instant.

Bucky takes a hasty step forward before looking back at the base where all of the Avengers are watching from the windows, they collectively make a go-get-her motion with their hands, indicating that Y/N is now his problem.

Fantastic, he thinks sarcastically, half the team can fly and I’m going after a demigod with family problems.

——

Jumping over fallen trees and ragged roots alike, you’re swifter then a young leopard under the treetops, it’s admittedly incredibly freeing that you almost get lost in the rush of it all as your boots pound against the leafy ground.

Arms pumping you quickly along while you run deeper into the woods, you can’t remember the last time you’ve felt so free, though your fun soon comes to an abrupt halt when something hard latches onto both of your legs, instantly you begin falling towards the quickly approaching earth.

With lightening reflexes, your hands are thrusted outwards while you emit a blast of air that saves you from suffering brain damage or a bruised face. The wind aids your body in stabilizing itself once again; now standing with your lower legs tied collectively by some metal clasp, you quickly clap your hands together before focusing your release.

The metal clamps rip apart from off of your legs, freeing you in an instant, “What the fuck was that about?” You mutter to yourself when what would you know it, there’s Bucky standing not even twenty feet from you, an apologetic look on his annoyingly handsome face.

He raises his gloved hands into the air, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know how else to stop you...”

Shaking your head in disappointment, you take a step in his direction, “Bucky, you’re going to really wish you didn’t just do that.”

“Uh.” Is all he’s able to mutter before you send him flying backwards with the force of a small windstorm, you watch in amusement as he breaks some branches on his way to the ground.

“You really don’t like following orders now do you?” He hears you chuckle, “I like that. You’ve got a brave heart I’ll admit.” He watches as you walk into view, a knowing smirk adorning your beautiful otherworldly features, “Courage, it’s good. Even after what I did to you a couple days ago, you still came to speak with me when no one else dared, it’s valiant. You would be a noble warrior in my homeland.”

Bucky could have blushed if not for the stick poking uncomfortably into his back, “Thanks....you seem like...uh....an experienced...woman.” Mutters Bucky, mentally cringing at how unbelievably stupid that just sounded in comparison with how gloriously divine you are.

You snort, “Easy on the eyes and a skilled fighter. Guess conversation is too adept for even the likes of you.”

Bucky shows you a cheeky grin as he jumps to his feet, “Well....uh...you don’t really know me that well yet.”

You laugh at his weak flirting skills, “Too bad I’ve got elsewhere to be. I bet you’re fine company.”

“Right...right, yeah...” Mumbles Bucky with a nod, not really confident he’s gonna be able to sway you completely to his side, he just needs you to come back with him to the base. That’s it, well, in a calmly manner. “Uh...do you even know where you are?”

You open your mouth to speak but pause as you actually have not a single clue where you really are, brows furrowed you answer, “Upstate New York.” Your accent dripping strong with a tinge of uncertainty that greatly annoys you.

Bucky smiles, “Do you know where that is?”

“Well.....not completely but I’m willing to find out, elsewhere. I don’t need help, believe me.”

Bucky throws his hands up, “I believe you. It’s just....I don’t think you’re gonna find your brother without a little guidance here...”

“Don’t patronize me!” You snap angrily, eyes practically glowing gold as you fill with irritation; he’s trying to distract you from your goal, you don’t need any help from anyone. Your brother would never dare ask for such a thing if he was in your place, he probably would have killed this man in the facility yard without a second thought. “You’re all just prying little bastards, I have no business with any of you when my personal quandary is concerned!”

Clearly noticing he’s struck some kind of nerve, and remembering he’s been tasked with gathering as much information about you as possible while striving for the end goal of a truce. Bucky stupidly pressures you further, “Your brother can’t be that terrible, I mean.....what did he do?” Asks Bucky with a casual shrug, a sudden pang of fear flashing through his eyes as you send him a nasty glare.

You don’t even give him a moment to react before his forest green jacket is ablaze from your quick thrust of flame out of your fist, Bucky instantly yelps in surprise before swiftly throwing the burning fabric off of him before he catches fire himself. The jacket falls to a flaming heap on the forest floor, “What the hell?!” Yells Bucky, eyes wide at your incredibly abrupt act of hostility.

Whoosh!

And Bucky’s flat on his back with you right on top of him, kneeling down to meet his startled gaze, his breath hitches as you forcefully grab his stubbled jaw. Your eyes two golden coins of tempered rage, “You have no idea what he has done to me or my realm, you’re lucky I’m not like him or you’d be a burnt corpse adding to the ash of the universe. Pray you never meet him.” Your lip quivers in angered emotion as you lightly squeeze his jaw, “And if we meet again, I assure you someone will die.”

Bucky keeps still as stone as you finally release him from your admittedly powerful grasp, soon you rise to your full height, giving him one last conflicted look before sauntering off into the bushes.

He lets out a breath he didn’t know he had, chest rising heavily as the adrenaline rush of the fire and you touching him brings him back to reality. He’s on the ground in the woods and you’re absolutely no where to be seen. Soon he jumps to his feet and jogs in your direction until he reaches a gravel road leading back to the Avengers Facility.

You’re gone, just like a phantom in the shadows, gone.

Shaking his head in frustration, Bucky treks back to the base where Steve, Tony, and Natasha are waiting for him outside, all equally curious as to what the hell happened.

“Looks like you were unsuccessful, Barnes.” Quips Tony as Bucky throws him a dirty look.

“She’s...just.....complicated.” Mutters the tired Winter Soldier with a frown as they follow him to the front doors.

——

Bucky slouches comfortably into the back of the lounging rooms giant plush couch, a heating pad seated blissfully against his bruised back from all the times you knocked his ass to the ground today. Sam, Tony, Steve, and Natasha seated in various areas around the lounging room as they give him a break to rest.

Though the peace is soon broken by the sound of Tony’s irritating voice, “You at least get a name to hold against that psycho?”

Bucky throws him an annoyed glance, “She’s not a psycho, and her name is Y/N....I can’t remember her last name. It was something Middle Earth-like I don’t know.”

“Y/N?” Repeats Steve, “That’s different.”

Bucky’s face shifts to concentrated puzzlement, “Yeah, I know....it’s just, she said Y/N of Vanaheim or whatever that means....not sure but she’s definitely not from around here.”

“Really? What drew you to that final conclusion.” Jokes Sam as Bucky mutters an incomprehensible fuck off while the Falcon chuckles.

Natasha’s voice suddenly enters the conversation, “So she’s after her brother?”

Bucky nods, “Yep.”

“And doesn’t appear to know her way around this world either?”

“Yep.”

Natasha hums in thought as Sam speaks, “Damn. I wonder what happened to her before she got dumped into our world...”

Bucky suddenly sits up, “It’s just....she said some people are probably already after her, uh....her brothers guardsman I think?”

Steve takes a step forward, eye brows raised in interest, “Guardsmen?”

Tony nods, “Or are these some type of glorified assassins? I’m just putting this out there, but we really need to get this shit under control before she ends up destroying a building next. Or these, whoever is after her, decide to...oh I don’t know...kill some civilians while they’re at it.”

Bucky’s face shifts to puzzlement, “Dammit. It’s kinda my fault she ran off.” They all give him a varying amount of intrigued expressions as he sighs, “I was just trying to get more info out of her and then I talked about her brother and she set my jacket on fire, before throwing me to the ground and roughly grabbing my face to threaten me, she was really mad too.”

Sam smirks, “Did you enjoy it. Getting manhandled by a pretty lady in the woods?”

“Sam.” Mutters Steve like a disappointed father reprimanding his son.

“Come on Buck, it’s okay, you can tell us. Was it nice?”

Bucky throws him a deadly glare, “Actually it was, I felt very loved and comforted.” He quips, voice dripping in sarcasm before a more thoughtful expression crosses his features, “But she didn’t actually hurt me. I don’t know, she almost looked conflicted to leave....I don’t know it happened so fast.” He mumbles, closing his eyes as he falls back into the comfort of the couch.

“Well as much as I’m enjoying this time together with all of you...” Says Natasha, “We now have a person from an unknown world on the loose with incredible power and the means to use it as she wants. We all know where that can lead us.”

“With more collateral damage then what Ultron gave us.” Adds Tony, “Fortunately this time it won’t be my fault...like that makes a big difference I know. Still, she’s the Avengers newest problem now and we don’t have a damn clue where Miss. Anger Management is.”

“Uh, not exactly.” Starts Bucky as they all turn to look at him. Sam raises an intrigued brow, “What do you mean, not exactly?”

“I, well uh-when she was threatening me, well one of the times she was threatening me...I was able to plant a tracker on the inside of her one pocket. Then she pushed me into the grass and ran off into the woods, I couldn’t keep up even if I tried. She was just gone, but at least I was able to do that. It’s something.”

“Barnes.” Says Tony slowly, “And you’re just telling us this now? When we could have been sending some intelligence or agents or even ourselves out to find her.”

“Sorry but I was recovering from getting beaten up by a beautiful demigod to remember so soon,” Sasses Bucky, “but yeah, that aside, she’s got a tracker on her so all I’d need to do is pull it up on my phone and I’m good to go. Well, as long as she hasn’t found it yet.” 

“If it’s just like that, you’re sharing with the rest of the class.” Says Tony while he wanders over to the television mounted upon the wall, “I’m gonna have you link with the tv, I don’t wanna miss a second.”

With a dramatic sigh does the Winter Soldier lean over to grab the thin metal device from off of the coffee table in front of him while Tony flicks on the large tv screen. Once all is set correctly and synched up, the others watch on in curiosity as he scrolls around a bit before finding the app and clicking on it, a couple passwords are sent in and accepted when the screen then shows one option labeled -Unite_1P - between two white bars within a sea of black.

He taps the label and the screen changes to a view of North America resembling that of google maps, but the screen soon shifts to zoom in on a moving pin point in red that’s traveling a couple miles far northeast of the Bronx, where it appears that Y/N happens to be trekking through some forest heading downwards towards that designated part of New York City.

Steve’s eyes trail over the red pin point, “So that’s where Y/N is going?”

“Seems like it. And she hasn’t a damn clue where she’s actually going either.”

Sam keeps his gaze locked onto the map as well, “And what does she want exactly?”

 “She said something about finding her brother but that’s honestly it, I tried to help her but it was almost pointless. She’s on her own mission now, and no ones going to get in her way.”

Steve sighs, “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“What?”

“Y/N. Someone getting in her way, someone just trying to lend a hand and she takes it the wrong way and then...”

“I know man, but I don’t think she’d do that to some innocent person. At least I don’t think she would.” Worries Bucky while everyone takes a moment to process and stare at the screen, red pin point still moving slowly towards New York City. The creak of wood is suddenly heard and all five Avengers turn their heads towards the abrupt noise of Director Fury who’s found himself a spot to stand in the large room.

“Unfortunately we don’t know that. And as the worlds mightiest heroes. It’s your collective duty to always assume the worst. She’s strong, has a goal, and appears able to get it if she tries hard enough. It’s admirable, and yes she’s no Loki...but she is a danger to Earth the less we know about her true intentions and the longer she’s out of our reach.” Explains Fury, “Barnes you’ve done incredibly well. But our apparent need for you has increased as well, so I suggest you smack on a band-aid because we’re going to have a nice civil conversation with her whether she wants it or not.”

“Me?”

“Yes you. You’re the only person she hasn’t tried to send a chunk of metal at, you got close, you got the information. We need you to do it again.”

Steve looks to Fury, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. What if she...”

“I’ll do it.....” They all give Bucky a collective array of questionable facial expressions as he shrugs, “What? I think she’ll listen, maybe, okay I’m not one hundred percent sure if Y/N will hear me out. But I gotta try right? She’s conflicted inside, she’s hurt and alone....if I just have a moment, another moment, I think I could get to her. I think she’ll listen.”

Fury smiles as Steve lowers his gaze, “That’s what I like to hear Mr. Barnes. And don’t none of you worry alright. We’ll be close, at a safer distance of course, but close in case anything goes south. Now the day is still young and we have a demigod to find, I assume you all know what to do.”

Steve looks to the array of assembled heroes, “Suite up..well actually...just Bucky.”

The designated man of the hour rolls his eyes, “Yeah, yeah, I’m going.”

-

Tagged: @buckylokisimp @diegos-butt @minigranger @bibliophilewednesday @holyhumorliteraturelight @lilacs-lavender  @a-girl-who-loves-disney @bizarrebibitch @starkssnarks @vikingqueen28 @jmstz @thehornytitties @staygoldsquatchling02 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @mischiefmanaged71​ @noragracebrewer   @atomicpersonacheesecake  @thescarlettvvitch @shawnartmendes​

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #the winter soldier x you #the winter soldier x y/n #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier #avengers imagine #marvel x reader #marvel x y/n #marvel x you #bucky barnes series #fanfiction #fanfic #series

[ezrasarm]

Big Boys Must Cry

Pairing: Benny Miller x GN!reader

Word count: 1.8K

Warnings: PTSD, depictions of violence and blood, some heavy angst but also very soft fluff to hopefully balance it out a bit, really lazy proofreading

Summary: Having lost enough sleep thinking about it, Benny realizes it’s time to stop fighting after an incident that puts people’s lives at risk. He cries in front of you for the first time and after a touching heart-to-heart, you convince him to get some help.

A/n: This was born from my own rage over the dumbass standards imposed on men not to show vulnerability cause it just makes me sO fUcKinG aNgRy and I’ve seen it hurt a few too many people I care about. Didn’t quite turn out as I had hoped but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless :)

Masterlist

Cold. Colder than when you fell asleep. You hardly ever needed the duvet when you shared a bed with Benny but for some reason you found yourself reaching for it from where you had shoved it down around your waist––Something stopped you though. Letting your fingertips follow the silky ripples in the sheets to Benny’s side of the bed you pried your eyes open when they kept reaching but didn’t meet warm skin. He wasn’t there.

The light from your phone stung your retinas when you flipped it over to check the time. The numbers 2:37 seemed to burn a blotchy purple into the backs of your eyelids when you blinked away. With a heavy sigh you rolled out of bed and padded down the hallway to where you could see the soft glow of the lamp in the corner of the living room pooling out the doorway.

“Ben,” you hummed from where you’d leaned yourself against the doorframe. His head shot up from its place buried in his hands and you swore you caught the glint of a tear trailing down the side of his cheek before he smeared it away with the heel of his palm. “You okay?” You asked, rounding the couch to take a seat next to him.

“Yeah,” He sniffed back and you knew that was a lie if you had ever heard one. “Couldn’t sleep. Didn’t mean to wake you.” He choked out a moment later, doing a very poor job of trying to cover up the waver to his voice.

“The dreams again?” You pressed. All you got in return was a broken stare. You didn’t need an answer for that look in his eyes to tell you everything you needed to know. “Ben, ever since—“ he sucked in a breath that told you you probably didn’t need to finish that sentence. “I’ve tried to be patient,” you muttered hardly above a whisper “but I can’t help you if you keep freezing me out,” You settle for. “I want to help you Benny.”

There was a long pause. You almost thought he was going to get up and leave when a strangled sob fell past his lips and instead his head fell forward notching into the crook of your shoulder as his arms wrapped around you. It was a little shocking at first, as your hands sought out his warmth through the shirt on his back and your fingers deftly traced up his spine to where they could tangle in the loose curls that tickled his collar, you realized he’d never cried in front of you. You knew he cried, he was awful at hiding it but never before had he broken like this in front of you. The realization made you clutch him to your shoulder that much tighter as you craned your neck to plant kisses in his messy hair.

You managed to catch a particularly articulated gasp from the hot breath on your skin. “I’m so sorry,” he had said and you felt your heartbreak at the words. For a moment you thought he was apologizing for this—for falling apart in front of you, perhaps he was, but with the desperation in his tone, you knew there was more to it than that. You knew he was talking about what had happened on your way home from your date almost a week ago now.

“It’s okay.” You murmur softly between each press of your lips to his scalp. “You have nothing to apologize for. You weren’t yourself when it happened,” you tried to cut the thought off at the root but he was already too far past that.

“But what if I was? What if that’s who I am? What if—“ The thought seems too painful for him to finish and he stops himself. A ragged breath shudders through his hollow chest before a whisper escapes him “I could’ve killed him.” He’s trembling as he clutches your arms now and you can feel the terror flowing off of him in waves. “I—I could have hurt you too.” He can’t bring his eyes to meet yours when you try to lift his gaze in your direction. His face is red and his jaw is clenched so tight you fear he could crack his own teeth.

You have to work to keep your voice even when you scoot closer to him so you’re practically in his lap as you cup his face. The memories of the other night are potent again. The fluorescent lights of the small convenience store overhead, the feeling of his arm yanking out of your grasp despite how hard you tried to pull him in the opposite direction, the sound of bone cracking bone when he lunged for the poor bastard that had overestimated his restraint and underestimated his strength and the echo of your own shouts for him to stop ringing in your ears.

The guy had crowded him in the line for the checkout and something snapped in him. Something you had only ever seen surface when he was deep in the throws of a fight and never quite like this. It was like he’d lost all awareness of the world around him, nothing you said or did seemed to get through. Both you and the shopkeeper trying to pry him away was little use and it wasn’t until you managed to throw yourself between them, a bloody nose from having taken an elbow to the face that he finally cracked.

“You wouldn’t have. I know you, Benny,” You murmured but his own memories of that night were rushing back to him too. Just as they had been all week, keeping him from focusing, keeping him from sleep, keeping him from looking you in the eye because all he could see was the swollen bridge of your nose that was his fault.

He had almost hit you. You had braced yourself as if ready to take it. You looked terrified… of him. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to forget that tear-stained and blood-smeared face if he tried and he knew he would never be able to forgive himself if he’d laid a finger on you. He was having a hard enough time forgiving himself as it was.

“You don’t know what I’m capable of––what I’ve done.” He seemed pained to say and you’re afraid he’s gonna pull away again and block you out like he had every other time you’d tried to broach the topic with him.

“You’re right, I don’t.” You were very well aware that there was a whole other side to your boyfriend’s life that you knew absolutely nothing about and you were okay with that. If he didn’t want you to know, you didn’t want to push him, but you needed him to talk to someone.

You’re not sure how but the sentiment seems to sink through to him because instead of getting up and leaving as you were half expecting him to do, he choked out a “I don’t ever want to lose control like that again,” that told you he must have been just as terrified in that moment as you had looked to him.

“I—“ his words caught in his throat for a second as though he were afraid to voice them out loud but he seemed committed to them nonetheless. “I think I have to stop fighting for a while—forever, who knows.”

For a second you thought his hesitancy was directed towards you. You had always been supportive of him, you were glad he had something to be passionate about and that sometimes got him a bit of cash but you weren’t ecstatic about watching him get pummeled in a cage on your nights off. You thought you had made that attitude clear to him but still he danced around the idea as though he was scared to disappoint and it’s only when the word popped into your head that it dawned on you it wasn’t you that he was afraid of disappointing.

“Look, I know you don’t want to hear this…” you began and he was already shaking his head “but I think you should tell Will exactly what you’ve just told me.”

You knew the two brothers were close, but you also knew there were some tensions between them that all the training helped them work through. It forced them to spend time together in times they wanted to least. He wasn’t afraid of letting Will down by quitting fighting, he was afraid of letting Will down by quitting them. He was afraid he’d failed him, failed to keep his head on when he knew what Will had gone through to do the same. He had promised this wasn’t going to happen and yet here he was, petrified of what to do next. “No, you know how he is, I can’t do that—“

“Benny, he’s your brother, not just your trainer. He wants you to be safe, and happy, and healthy, just like I do,” you whisper, brushing some of the stray tears from the apple of his cheeks and pressing a light kiss to his forehead. “But as much as I want to be able to wave this all away for you, he knows better than anyone else what you’re going through.” A kiss to his cheek, “He can help.” A kiss to the bridge of his nose.

He gives you a wordless nod and you press your forehead to his, squeezing your eyes shut and taking a deep breath. “Thank you for talking to me. I know it’s not always easy for you,” you hum and you really mean it. You’re proud that he’s recognizing he needs help and you're glad he was able to confide in you to get it. “We can call him in the morning, but for now we need to get you some rest.” You whisper and you feel his nod against your forehead when you go to press a kiss to his other cheek.

“I love you,” the words are frail on his lips but every bit as meaningful and you feel your mouth curve up into a small smile as you repeat them back to him before this time he’s the one to pull you into a kiss. It’s desperate and it's sweet. It’s clingy and forceful but ever so feather-light. This is your Benny, you think to yourself. This right here is exactly how you know he could never hurt you. Before you know it he’s chasing your lips as you climb out of his lap, your fingers tangled with his own as you drag him down the hall and back to bed.

“Rest,” you remind him. “We’ll finish this in the morning.”

He manages to sleep that night.

#benny miller x reader #benny miller x you #ben miller x reader #ben miller x you #benny miller fanfiction #ben miller fanfiction #triple frontier fanfiction

[spilledkauffie]

Finally Home

Pairing: Din Djarin (Mandalorian) x reader Word Count: 2.6k T/W: light smut? mentions of bruises. A/N: Taking a bath with Mando and it’s been a while since you’ve seen each other. I know it ends a little abruptly, I’m sorry, but I didn’t want to make it too smutty...that’ll come later.

It had been longer than you expected. But you tried not to dwell on that. Instead, you preoccupied yourself with scrubbing down a dish until it was gleaming nearly as bright as pure Beskar. Beskar...there you went again, but you couldn’t help it. You kept your eyes longingly fixed on the sky, hoping, wishing...little did you know today was the day. Before you knew it a familiar engine flew overhead, the craft landing was the one you’d been waiting for. Dropping the dish immediately, you rushed out the door of the humble little place you called home. It wasn’t very fancy, but it just so happened to be a perfect place for one Mandalorian to lay low. 

The engines cut and you ran closer, soon finding the figure you were looking for headed your direction, calmly and slowly. You knew he was already bracing for impact, so you didn’t make it for naught. The sand was getting everywhere as you ran towards him with a smile across your face, but for once you didn’t care. You reached your arms up and practically jumped into his arms. He was definitely ready for it, holding you tightly against him, he kept your feet off the ground as you hugged him tighter. 

Pulling back you bit your lip, but quickly wriggled your way out of his arms and backed away for a moment, playfully shoving his chest, which hardly moved him. 

“One week, one week,” you tried not to giggle as you attempted to sound upset, even putting your hands on your hips when you stepped away from him, “that’s what you told me. And what did I get? Four weeks!”

“I know,” Din nodded slowly, looking off and then back at you, “I’m sorry. I got- sidetracked.”

Sidetracked, which really meant getting himself into a dodgy predicament, having to escape, then getting into more trouble. That was the usual situation, so you went with it.

You tilted your head and sighed a long hum, dropping your arms to your sides, as you turned to walk away, “it’s fine, ya know, while you were gone,” you lifted a hand, “I did meet a very friendly young Twi’lek who-“

“You what?” The Mandalorian grasped your wrist, not too harshly, but rough enough to stop you and turn you back to face him when he pulled you closer in his direction.

You stared at the dark gleaming slits in his helmet. Lasting only a few seconds before a smile broke its way through. You were biting at your lower lip again as Din kept his hold around your wrist. The cool leather reminding you how much you missed him.

“I’m teasing you,” you admitted, sweetly giving him the reassurance he needed to hear, “I stayed where you told me to and waited for you...like always”

“Oh,” he said, gently and slowly letting you go, “right.” You could sense he was a little embarrassed at the missed cue to your teasing, but also that he could get so easily jealous.

“But,” you stepped closer, pressing up against his armour, you felt how cool it was as you traced a few scratches that indicated close calls on his chest plate, “I like that adrenaline, didn’t get your fill of it out there?”

You gazed up at the stars starting to appear over the planet with nightfall. He watched you smile up at the sky, wishing he could have taken you with him. Placing his covered hand atop yours, now casually spread against his chest, he squeezed your hand a little, never taking his gaze off you.

“Actually,...it’s been a little rough out there.”

His voice, so soft, a little hoarse, but always sincere, drew your attention back to him. You paused, dropping the playfulness, a sudden wave of reality hit you. He could have been hurt or worse, and you were teasing him. All you cared about now was that he was finally home. You swallowed harshly, and batted your eyelashes, looking down, slightly flustered at how emotional you were suddenly becoming.

“I shouldn’t have told you, I’m-“

“Don’t apologise, Din” you looked back up at him, “I’m just happy you’re back home,” you gave him a smile, this time a truly in love heartfelt smile, “I missed you so much.”

You placed your hands on the sides of his helmet. Feeling his hand caress the side of your neck, you pushed onto your tiptoes to press your forehead against his helmet’s. He lowered his head to help you out. 

“I missed you too,” he said when his hand found the nape of your neck.

It was moments like this that you wanted to stay in forever. 

“C’mon, let’s get you inside, it’s getting dark anyway,” you wrapped an arm around him, his arm resting atop your shoulder.

He always had to duck to get in, but it was quaint. You noticed he was a little slow to sit, and once he finally was, he leaned his head back like this was the first time in a long time he was actually relaxing. You smiled at him, putting away the dishes you had abandoned.

“And when was the last time you cleaned up?” you asked, “please tell me you haven’t been lodging at Dagobah again.” 

“No,” Din said, with a hint of amusement in his voice as he answered, “I wouldn’t mind some fresh water though.” 

You dried your hands and came over to him, “I’ll get a bath going, yeah? Should give you enough time to get the armour off at least.” 

He nodded, watching you walk deeper into the house. He couldn’t deny that he’d missed you, your kindness, your voice, but most of all your understanding. It seemed everywhere else he went, someone had to make light of his beliefs and practices, but here he was safe. He thought more and more about it as he removed his armour piece by piece, setting them on the table. He had no worry that someone would try and take it when he was with you. It was so secluded where you were he almost had no worries whatsoever. 

As you brought the towels down from a cabinet, you turned to notice Mando walking down the hallway, ever the swagger in his steps that he just couldn’t help. You always found it strange at first to see him without his armour, all that was left was a loosely fitted linen shirt, tucked in at his waist, his trousers with a belt and of course, his helmet. He stopped in the doorway leaning against it, watching as you set out the towels, he tilted his head. Turning to fully see him, you eyed him over. He had one knee bent as he rested most of his weight on the other, causing his hips to slant, and his arms crossed over his chest. Your lips parted at the sight of his skin where his shirt parted, revealing his chest. You trailed your gaze up to his collarbones barely peeking out from the fabric’s edge, up to his bare neck.

Mando tipped his head the other way, “liking what you see?” he teased you now.

You closed your mouth, and responded as confidently as you could, heart pounding in your chest, “I always do,” blushing, you dipped your head, walking towards the door as he entered. 

“Stay,” he said somewhere between a request and a command, once he was past you.

You turned to face him. He was already pulling his shirt over his helmet, a smooth transition as he was used to it. His shoulder blades squeezed together as he reached up, his skin was tight over the muscles flexing with his movements. “It’s been awhile,” you said timidly, pinching your pinky between your thumb and index finger, he looked over his shoulder at you silently, as you spoke, “I didn’t want to cross any lines if you didn’t want me to, ya know...” 

He gave a hoarse chuckle, “You know I don’t mind you seeing everything else,” he said, no longer facing you, methodically folding his shirt to set it aside, “so? Join me?” he looked over his shoulder again, this time his torso turning with him, flexing his beautiful abdomen.

You nodded, returning to the center of the room to remove your own clothing. Your heart raced as you lost more of your clothes to the bathroom floor. When Din sat at the edge of the metal bathtub, he took off his boots, sand coming out of one. He stared at you through the helmet as the sand poured onto the ground, you giggled covering your mouth with a hand, as he shook his head looking between you and the boot until it was finished.

He stood to set the boots by the rest of his belongings. One thing caught your attention though. Stepping closer, you hugged him very carefully from behind, kissing around some bruises he had recently acquired on spots where the Beskar didn’t quite cover. He shuddered a little from the contact of your warm chest against his back and your lips pressing warmly against him; you heard him sharply suck in a breath before relaxing. 

“Believe it or not,” you spoke softly, turning your head to the side, nuzzling against his skin, “I think it hurts me more to see you like this, than it hurts you to get these.” 

Continuing to undo his belt, not minding  your arms around him, he nodded, “I’d believe it.” Smiling to yourself and biting in your lower lip, you let him go, hands trailing down his back before you took a few steps back. Trying not to be too clingy, you knew there might be some readjusting, but then again he did just invite you to get naked with him. Either way, you wanted him to be the one to start anything, if anything were to happen. You got distracted in your thoughts, by the next time you looked over he was waist deep in the bath, slowly lowering himself into the water, trying not to disrupt the surface too much. 

His helmet made a slight clink against the edge as he leaned his head back, but you thought it was adorable. The sharp little sound of the Beskar against the metal was like a little bell to your ears. He then looked over to you, silently holding a hand out for you to join him. Walking over to the edge, you accepted his hand. Once you were standing in the water, he let go of your hand tracing it down the side of your thigh, causing water to drip off his forearm. As you lowered yourself into the tub, his hand slid down, until it was against your bent knee while you comfortably adjusted. He caressed the back of your knee softly pulling your calf up out of the water, bringing his other hand to stroke along the side of it.

You giggled quietly at his touch, “it’s been a while,” he suddenly said, voice still static under the helmet. 

“It has,” you agreed, a smile pulling at your lips.

You slipped your unoccupied foot against his leg underneath the water.. Dropping your head to rest against the edge now, your wet neck exposed as you stretched back slightly. Though you couldn’t actually see it, you felt Din’s gaze heavy on you as you exhaled and inhaled. Chest just beneath the water, almost breaching the surface when you inhaled, but not quite. 

Lifting you head, you saw you were right, he was looking straight at you, “you get lonely in space?” you asked, biting the inside of your bottom lip, never taking your eyes off him.

He slowly stopped stroking your calf, setting it back down in the water. He moved a little closer towards you, he reached for your wrists resting on the tub. With his fingers tightly encircling your wrist he coaxingly pulled you over to him, until you were straddling his waist. His hands then travelled up your thighs, until he found your hips, keeping you in place. Your skin was glistening, he brought one hand up your spine to caress your curves. Pressing his palm deeper into the small of your back making you hum a moan of pleasure. 

“Sometimes,” he finally answered, “you get lonely being grounded?”

You smiled, tilting your head back at his touch finally against you. Stroking your hands up his soaking chest and against his neck, until you reached the sides of his helmet. Water dripped off it from where your hands were now clutching it.

“Sometimes,” you answered him. “I promise you: I’ll close my eyes,” you said, eyes heavy with lust, but hands steady as you waited for his consent, “like every time before.”

“Okay,” he agreed, trusting you, as he always did.

You closed your eyes before you even began to lift the helmet. When you had it off, you held it with one hand over the edge of the tub behind him. Your other hand’s fingertips gliding up his neck, feeling him swallow before you caressed his jawline, dragging your thumb across his bottom lip, you smiled. Ghosting your hand gently against his cheek bone, your fingertips soon met his curls. Combing a hand into his hair you bit your lip and hummed. 

“You’re going to have to help me out a little bit,” you quirked an eyebrow, but kept your eyes closed as promised, “you are a bounty hunter, I doubt you’ll miss the target.”

There was a pause, for a fleeting moment you’d wondered if you’d crossed a line too soon, but before you could ask his hand was against the back of your neck pulling you down into a deep kiss. It was hardly what you were expecting him to start with. His thumb stroked your cheek before pushing back into your hair as you tried to gain control of yourself enough to kiss back. His mouth moved perfectly against yours, it was like he was never gone. 

You practically melted against him, your free hand explored his hair, wetting it with the water from your palm. Your other hand clutched tighter to the cool metal of the helmet, knuckles turning white at the grip you were giving it. His lips led the perfect motion, his hands clung to your body with a ravenous desire, you felt his abdomen tighten and his chest heave when you broke the kiss. 

Din softly tugged your lower lip between his teeth as you pulled back, cursing through a moan. You caught your breath and he kissed along your jawline. Feeling him move his leg, your body slid a little closer to his yet. Grasping the back of your thighs, his hands hiked you up a little more, setting you right on his hip bones, making you giggle his name. 

Dipping to suck at your neck, he wrapped his arms around your torso, almost pressing your chest to his. He liked the feeling of your wet skin against his. You breathed heavier bringing a hand through his hair to rest at the nape of his neck now. His kisses were hot and you could already feel the bruises they were going to leave as he took your skin between his teeth and soothed it with his tongue. 

“Din-” You sighed softly, until his lips hit your sweet spot. With a euphoric gasp, you dropped the helmet. Even the echoing sound of Beskar hitting the floor didn’t mask the sound of your pleasure. 

He pulled back, “I think I hit the target,” you heard him say, practically purring in your ear. 

#spilledkauffie #the mandalorian #mandalorian #mando #din djarin #din #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x y/n #the mandalorian x you #mando x reader #mando x y/n #mando x you #din djarin x y/n #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #mandalorian fluff #mandalorian fanfic #mando fic #mando fluff #mando fanfiction #din djarin fluff #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fic #mandalorian smut #mando smut #din djarin smut #staw wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars fic #star wars fluff

[drwcn]

maybe after today’s acls training i can finally write that chengqing ER oneshot. 

— “Patient male, mid-twenties, motor vehicle collision, eta 3 mins” 

— “What no vitals? No GCS? ETA 3 mins? Who’s on the paramedic team?!” 

— “No one….Dr. Lu hit someone with her car on her way out of the hospital.” 

【A Midnight Conversation in Your Local ER】- Complete

[1] 

The night hunt had gone to shits.

That much was undeniable.

Jiang Cheng heard the panicked shout of his disciples just as he saw the array that he had stepped on.

Fuck.

The ghost of an once mediocre demonic cultivator wanna-be was going to bring Jiang Cheng, Jiang Wanyin - the Sandu Shengshou - to meet his maker. The irony of the situation would be laughable, if he wasn’t so irrevocably screwed.

That was his last thought before his entire body was engulfed by a blinding light and the world he knew disappeared.

The ground beneath his feet gave away, weightlessness paralyzing his body though he did not fall. He felt…launched, his body warping and squeezing and stretching, the air sucked from his lungs into the endless black vacuum.

But just like that it was over. Jiang Cheng barely had time to make peace with his death before his feet touch solid earth again.

Or at least….he thought it was earth, this black, tarry hard thing striped with yellow and white. He stared at it dumbly, breathless and disoriented, barely able to react when a loud blare assaulted his senses and his world went blindly bright yet again.

This time there was pain.

Jiang Cheng clutched Sandu, ready to fight, but then his head hit the ground and everything went dark. When he woke up again, an indeterminate amount of time later, he was in a small tube and had a distinct feeling he was not wearing pants, socks or shoes.

How the fuck do you ‘scan’ a cat???  

[2]

Method actor. The nurse, from the other side of the curtain, mouthed silently.

“Sir, can you tell me your name.”

“Jiang Cheng, Jiang Wangyin.”

The resident paused, awkwardly contemplating how to continue. “Uh…..which is it? Jiang Cheng or Jiang Wanyin?”

“Jiang Cheng, zi Wanyin.”

“Traditional parents?” The resident tried to crack a joke, but it fell flat. The strange man stared up at him with a blank look in his eyes and a frown that was rapidly deteriorating into a scowl. The resident cleared his throat and cast his eyes back onto his clipboard. “Uh, ahem, just the name on your ID please.”

“My what?" 

"Your personal ID….like a driver’s license?”

“Cultivators of the gentry fly on swords or ride horses. We do not rely on carriage valets.”

“Eh… right. Uhm, can you tell me how old you are and what year it is.”

“I’m 39, and the year is jiachen.”

Lu Qi frowned from where she stood by the door, arms crossed, watching her resident and medical student work. 39? He looks like a college student. But he also thinks he can fly, so I guess age is the least of our worries. 

“Jiachen.…?”

The M3 fished his phone out from his scrub pocket pocket and typed it in. “Sounds like the ganji system, like an old timey way to record year used in the past.” He whispers clandestinely to the resident.

“….Right. And uh, do you where you are?”

The man scowled at him. “Am I supposed to?” 

The resident scribbled something on the chart, and then looked up with a plastered awkward smile. “Well, thank you Mr. Jiang for your patience. Wang Fei here is the medical student on our team. He’s going to stay and ask you a couple more questions if you don’t mind. Afterwards we’ll confer with our attending and the team will be back to see you shortly.”

As he turned away, the R3 grimaced and shared a look with Lu Qi, who was the youngest attending physician in their ER, but was not technically working at the moment and so was not on the case. And technically, as the perpetrator who hit Jiang Cheng with her car, she had a severe conflict of interest.

At least this Jiang Cheng dude didn’t seem keen on pressing personal charges against her for MVA or suing the hospital in general… but that being said…

Yeah, they’re going to need a psych consult. 

Unless he’s on acid. 

Well… okay, psych consult either way. 

[3]

"It’s okay, you can relax.” Jiang Cheng said, waving dismissively at the woman standing by his bedside. “I’m not going to take you to the magistrate for hitting me with your carriage - car. You didn’t mean to, and I just came out of nowhere.” 

“....Thank you.” 

“You’re not Wen Qing. I know that now. Your name is Lu Qi. You can call off those psychia - psych - psychics - head healers - or whatever, I’m not crazy. It’s not my fault, you just… look so much like someone I used to know."

"Wen Qing.” Lu Qi echoed. 

“Yeah. Wen Qing. She was a healer - a doctor - like you, but different.” 

“I see. What happened to her?"

"She died. Almost twenty years ago."

"I'm sorry... that's awful.” Lu Qi’s response rolled off her tongue so well, because she had said those word a thousand times during her residency. So much so that it no longer had much meaning to her. Tonight however, she meant what she said. “Were you two close?"

"No, well…yes, maybe. No we weren’t exactly friends if that’s what you’re asking. She...operated on me. Without my consent or knowledge. Took my brother’s golden core and put it in me and then lied with my brother to my face about it. So no we weren’t “close”, but Wen Qing saved my life - well the purpose of it anyway. Saved me from a life of ordinariness.” 

Lu Qi did allow herself to dwell too much on what the fuck a “golden core” was, because her gut response was almost instantaneous. “That’s shitty of her.”

She clamped down on her tongue. 

God, why did I have to say that? To his face?! He was obviously in love with this Wen Qing person and they were encroaching on some dangerous emotional territories, but Lu Qi swallowed down her caution and plowed on nevertheless. There were things she felt she had to say, and since she’d already hit him with her car, how much worse could this shit get? “What I mean is she shouldn’t have. Not without telling you. Besides...there’s nothing wrong with ordinary.” 

Jiang Cheng chuckled bitterly. “Maybe you’re right. Still...she didn’t deserve to die. What her clan did was not her fault.” 

Now that threw Lu Qi off. Did this guy...kill her? 

Lu Qi half wondered if she stumbled upon a Yakuza-esque member whose psyche finally snapped after years of murder and violence. And yet, he seemed perfectly coherent, no flight of ideas, no tangential thought, no hallucations. Even his delusions seemed...logical. 

I must be the one losing, damnit.  

Jiang Cheng scratched a little at his chest, as if palpating for the “golden core” that he spoke of. "She saved my life, but when she needed help, I couldn't save her. But, if I were to go back… I can't say I'll choose differently. My clan needed me, my clan who was almost cleansed by hers. No, no I wouldn’t choose differently. I don’t regret my choices, but I am sorry. Sorry to her, sorry to my brother. I'll always be sorry that she died, and that I failed her when she needed me." 

Jiang Cheng had no idea why he was telling this stranger any of this, but maybe after twenty years, he was finally ready to address this guilt that he lived with. I mean who else was he supposed to tell? Jin Ling? It was nice, to have that face as an audience, receiving his words of confession. 

"She would forgive you." 

Lu Qi had no idea why she was offering absolution as if she had authority in this matter, but when she said it, the conviction she felt was so real, it was almost as though some external force was acting through her.

Which was ridiculous of course, but... 

"How do you know? You're not her." Jiang Cheng shook his head. “I wouldn’t forgive me.” 

"No, but you said she was a physician. So she should know, more than most, that sometimes there is no choosing who gets to live or die."

Jiang Cheng fell quiet at that, and his gaze grew distant. Lu Qi thought perhaps he was no longer seeing her as she was in front of him - white coat, scrubs, stethoscope -  but someone entirely different. The tension he held in his shoulders slowly eased, and he sighed. In the silence that stretched between them, Lu Qi hoped that this strange man with his strange past could find a sliver of peace. 

[4]

— Did you love her? 

— I thought so, foolishly, but maybe I didn’t. Even if I did, it was not well enough. 

— Do you love her still? 

— No... I don’t know. It’s been too long...but sometimes, late at night when Lotus Pier is quiet, I think I do. 

...

— Are you ashamed of it? 

...

— No. No I’m not. 

[5]

The patient known as Jiang Cheng left AMA, that is, against medical advice. It was the term they used sometimes for people who just up and leave without informing the team. 

Lu Qi had gone out to check on his labs, which came back with bonker numbers (I mean really, a hemoglobin of 455, sodium of 200, and a HCO3 of like...3?), but Jiang Cheng was gone from Bay 6 when she returned. The nurse made the overhead page, a code yellow was called, but four hours later, Lu Qi was ready to admit that she was never going to see this Jiang Cheng ever again. 

Somehow, she was okay with that. She had said what needed to be said.  

Her chief had given her a call on her cell and told her to go home and sleep. The guy didn’t look like he was gonna press charges, let’s count our blessings and move on. But the night had just been too damn strange that Lu Qi was all wired up from it and couldn’t possibly fall asleep. She had handover at 10 anyway. There was a change of clothes and toiletries in her bag. She could always take a shower in the anesthesia staff’s on call room and sleep until then. 

Dr. Sun was the anesthesia staff on-call tonight and was currently stuck in trauma OR. They were buddies since medschool; she’d understand.

Sighing, Lu Qi took a seat on the bench across from the bougie cafe in the lobby of the hospital. At this hour, it was the only one still open in the entire facility. The drinks they sold cost an arm and a leg, but Lu Qi needed the pick-me-up after the night she had. 

As she nursed the last bit of her matcha latte, two bickering voices pulled her attention to the front entrance. 

“Aiyo, A-Liang I already said I’m fine! I don’t need to be here!” 

“Fuck out of here with that bullshit, Chen Zhaoxi. You fell off the fucking roof! If Wu Kun hadn’t called me, you’d have gone on -”

It was him! Lu Qi shot up. It was Jiang Cheng! 

But no...no it wasn’t him. The well-dressed man dragging the second man (dressed in red pajamas) into the hospital was not Jiang Cheng. He had the same face - chiselled, handsome, scowling - but it wasn’t him. For one, his hair was trimmed short and neat, unlike Jiang Cheng who looked like he walked straight out of a BL xianxia tv drama. Secondly, his face was softer, eyes younger, and he couldn’t have been older than Lu Qi herself in her early thirties. 

“I was just trying to get to the litter of kittens trapped -”

“Yes, yes, and it was very heroic and I’m sure it would’ve made Wu Kun very horny, and you morons probably would’ve fucked once he got home had you not made a valiant attempt at breaking your neck -” 

“Excuse me,” the security guard manning the information desk chastised sharply. “It’s 4am. This is a hospital! Lower your voices, sirs.” 

“Sorry.” The men apologized sheepishly. 

Then, A-Liang, Jiang Cheng’s doubleganger asked, “Could you please direct us to the ER? This is my brother, he fell off a roof.” 

Lu Bin had no idea what possessed her to interject. “I can take you there.” 

All eyes fell on her. She walked towards them, heart pounding. 

This can’t be happening, this kind of thing just can’t happen... 

A-Liang’s face broke into a grateful smile. “Thank you, Miss -” Then his gaze trailed to her badge, and he corrected himself, “Dr. Lu. I’m Shen Liang. This is my brother Chen Zhaoxi. I think he fractured...well multiple things, please help him.” 

“Of course, come with me. Let’s get him a wheelchair. If he fractured is leg, he probably shouldn’t be walking.” 

“I didn’t fracture -” 

“You, you shut up.” Shen Liang rolled his eyes. “Don’t listen to him. He can lose three out of four limbs and say ‘ t’s but a flesh wound’.” 

Lu Qi couldn’t help but chuckle as she put an arm under the complaining Chen Zhaoxi and helped him towards the wheelchair. 

Shen Liang’s smile widened. 

[Extra]

“Holy shit, took you long enough!” 

When Jin Ling and Lan Sizhui finally dragged Jiang Cheng to their portal site, Jiang Cheng realized that the transportation talisman had created a channel through realities between what looked like two metal garbage dumpsters in a back alley behind a food establishment marked by giant yellow bunny ears.

Standing guard there, Lan Jingyi and Ouyang Zizhen were each munching on a strange layered bread and holding tall drinks contained in...what was it called again? Right. Styrofoam. 

“What is that?” Jin Ling wrinkled is nose at it. Brat. 

“It’s a Big Mac.” Replied Lan Jingyi as if Jin Ling was stupid. “And this is a milk shake.” 

Jin Ling scowled. “I said the bag of gold I gave you was for emergencies.” 

“Yeah but we were hungry.” Ouyang Zizhen defended. He neglected to tell them that the cashier had refused to accept the gold and instead asked for “cash” or “card”, neither of which they had, so Zizhen used a liiiiil confounding talisman he learned from Wei Wuxian. They did leave more than enough gold though...and that ought to cover the restaurant’s cost for their “burger”lary . Reaching into the brown paper bag he held under one arm, Zizhen pulled out a little box that opened to show pieces of... something. “These are chicken nuggets. They’re delicious! Try one! They’re really good with this sauce....hold on...” 

Lan Sizhui sighed. “We don’t have time for this. The portal will close soon. Let’s get Jiang-zongzhu home and we can sample these exotic food later.” 

The boys agreed. 

Jiang Cheng shook his head and huffed. 

#cql #the untamed #chengqing #wen qing #jiang cheng #a midnight conversation in your local er #cql ficlet #corie fics

[neonacity]

Black Daisies Chapter 5| Canzona

Preview:

“Only the dead have seen the end of war.”

An NCT mafia AU with OT23. 

Summary: Working for the mafia comes with many layers. There’s excitement, violence, loss, and betrayals. Yet there’s also friendship, family, loyalty, and code. The last thing it needs? Love and all the complexities it brings.

TW: violence, death, mentions of drugs and other illegal activities. If you’re uncomfortable with any of these, feel free to skip. Author’s note: This is purely a work of fiction. In no way am I supporting all the illegal activities and behaviors that might be mentioned in the story nor am I implying that any member of NCT acts whichever way I may write them here--they’re all sweetiepies that need to be protected.

Chapter: 1/ First Stage

Chapter: 2/Overture

Chapter: 3/The Conductor

Chapter: 4/Crescendo

The fog of smoke from the lighted cigarette mixed with the cold breath coming from blood red lips. A woman stood in a small overhead overlooking the city, watching the shadows move across Seoul like a dark cloud bidding disaster. 

The sound of gravel crunching under boots sounded from behind her. She didn’t acknowledge it at first, however, instead dropping the nearly finished stick of nicotine between her fingers to the ground. A gust of air blew the stray stub away, its embers flaring up slightly before dying out. 

“You shouldn’t have come here.”

For a moment, it was only silence that answered her. Her dress danced in the wind, its red color looking like dried blood in the darkness. 

“You were waiting...for me.”

She finally turned around to look at the guest. Her eyes, though naturally sharp, flickered with familiarity as she took in the form of the boy in front of her. 

“I know you’re about to do something silly. I’m only here to tell you to stop whatever idea you’re having right now.”

The figure didn’t move in front of her, but the way he stared at her made the distance between them almost crackle with electricity. The man’s jaw tightened, before it finally relaxed just a little bit. 

“None of NCT is planning to participate in his game.”

The woman merely raised a perfectly shaped brow, knowing that there’s more to what he is saying.

“But I—”

“Jaehyun. Don’t be stupid.” 

“Being the Don means I can do anything I want, right? So you and I can—”

“There is no you and I,” her voice, though it sounded clipped and cold in the meeting hall earlier, had a tinge of emotion this time. Is it desperation? Frustration? Helplessness?

Jaehyun took a few steps towards the smaller figure in front of him, his hands shoved deep into his pockets to keep him from reaching out to her. 

“You will be free. From him. From all of this.” 

“If you win.” 

“And I will.”

“Not after you’ve betrayed your brothers. You know what things this kind of game brings. Don’t do something you’ll regret later.”

He locked his jaw again, his expression intense even under the shadows that wrapped the two of them. Jaehyun finally pulled one hand from his pocket and moved it to touch her arm. The woman took a step back, evading his touch carefully.

“I don’t need to betray anyone. We all agreed on it. Everything will carry out as usual,” he said in a tone that sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than anyone else. As she looked up at him, she saw the same desperation in his eyes—the same eyes that used to be so innocent before they were hardened by his life in the mafia. 

“And you believe them? Look at where you are now, in front of me, telling me you’ll be doing this. You think you are the only one who has a reason to go after the position among all of you?”

“I…” he trailed off, a frown settling on his forehead. “I trust them.”

“With the way you are acting, I don’t think you are worthy of their trust at all.”

Something finally snapped inside of him and he finally closed the distance between them in quick strides. He didn’t touch her, but they were close enough to each other that the cold fogs of their breath mingled in the darkness.

“This is the only chance I have—you have—to finally leave.” 

For a moment she simply looked at him, gaze unfaltering. She wanted nothing more than to reach out to his face and cradle it, tell him everything is going to be fine, but even as a flicker of emotion slipped on her gaze, she quickly let her cold mask replace it as fast as it came. 

“I don’t need you to save me. Don’t do this.” 

Before he could say, or do anything else, she finally took a step back again before turning on her heels to walk away. Jaehyun followed her with his gaze until the darkness swallowed her retreating form. 

“Yo, you okay?”

I looked up from squinting at my computer and turned towards the boy grinning in front of me. I probably looked funny, my face all scrunched up from staring at my screen, because he broke into a laugh before dropping himself into the seat next to me.

“Ya… I know Taeyong said you’ll be our first line of defense, but you haven’t peeled your butt from your seat since last night. Relax. I don’t think Cypher is going to do anything—at least not for now.”

My squint turned into a frown and I opened my mouth to shoot back a reply. Before I could say anything though, a painful throb on my left temple made me stop. I barely slept a wink last night. I leaned back on my chair with a defeated sigh. 

“You don’t know that, Yuta. Those guys… they’re nasty. If they got the same message that we all got last night, I’m 99 percent sure they’re thinking of something to sabotage us now.” 

“Mm… were you able to hack into their system though?”

“Yeah. Their firewall sucks as usual. Nothing seems out of place for now…” I trailed off as my gaze moved across the room. From upstairs, I saw Taeyong slip out of his room in his sweats, hair messy from sleep. He ducked into the fridge on the second floor, rummaging for something there. 

After the announcement from the Don, all the members decided to stay in the headquarters temporarily instead of going to their separate dorms to ‘watch each other’s backs.’ It was a good move in my opinion, but another side of me is also a little bit nervous of having everyone around all the time. Not that I don’t like having the guys as company… but I have my personal reasons to be anxious about the recent change in living arrangements. 

From upstairs, Taeyong finally managed to fish out one of the tetra boxes of banana milk from the back of the fridge. I didn’t realize I was still staring at him until his eyes finally met mine and he gave me a sleepy smile. 

I quickly turned my eyes back to Yuta only to find him giving me a Cheshire grin. 

“What?”

“I asked you if you also tried checking temporary databases Cypher might be using but you were too busy eating up breakfast with your eyes,” he snickered before throwing up his hands as if in surrender. “I get it, I get it. All of us are handsome but you only have eyes for—” 

I quickly gave him a punch on his left shoulder as I felt blood rush to my cheeks. “I—wasn’t staring!”

“Sure, you were just drooling—”

“Hey, anyone up for some drinks tonight?” 

Our childish banter temporarily stopped as Yuta and I looked up to see a very sweaty Johnny stride through the door. He was slightly panting as he approached us, the slight flush of his cheeks a sign that he just finished his morning run. 

“Why? You going to Anarchy?” Yuta asked in curiosity as he dug his hands in the front pocket of his sweater. 

“Yeah, I have to make sure the dealers are selling the new goods well. I could go alone as usual but our Mom there,” he moved his lips to point towards a still sleepy-looking Taeyong upstairs, “said it is best to go in groups for now. You know, just to be sure.” 

Yuta shrugged. “I can go with you. I’ll also ask the other guys too. I sure need a bottle or two.” 

Johnny turned to look at me. For the first time since last evening, I felt extremely conscious of how I look. I was wearing an oversized hoodie, my hair up in a sorry excuse of a bun. My glasses didn’t do me any favors, barely concealing the dark circles under my eyes.

“You want to come with us?” he asked, smiling at me. 

“Uh… I don’t think that’s a good idea. I have to—”

“She has to watch over the rats, is what she’ll say,” Yuta interjected from his seat. He turned to look at me then with a frown. “Seriously, if you’re going to act like this, you’ll never see sunlight in the next two months.”

I opened my mouth to speak but Johnny was too quick to answer for me. 

“Great. You’ll come with us then.”

“But—”

“You can work in the club. I’ll have Jungwoo bring those mini computers you both love tinkering with. You can use them to do your magic codes and spying voodoo, right?” 

I stared at him, at a loss for words. 

“Good talk. We leave at 9PM,” he flashed me another grin and turned to walk away. I was about to give another rebuttal when my eyes landed on the way his shirt stuck to the muscles of his back. I closed my mouth and sank back to my seat. 

Beside me, Yuta was grinning from ear to ear again. 

“Don’t you just love it that we’re all staying here now?”

I turned and gave him another punch on the shoulder. 

Two hundred miles away from Seoul, a man sat back on his seat as the screen in front of him turned black. The lone light of the overhead lamp in the room made eerie shadows dance across his face as he mulled over the closing words of the Don.

“You are free to do anything you like.”

His impassive face slowly broke into a smile so sinister it almost made his angelic features unrecognizable. He has no fucking idea why the idiotic man decided to start this little game of his, but he likes it nonetheless. A chance to take over the whole mafia sounded so enticing to him that it almost made him laugh, but there’s another reason that ultimately made his blood boil in excitement.

NCT. 

“Jihoon.” 

He only slightly moved his head to look at the female who cracked the door open to his room. She had the same eyes as him, though hers didn’t look tainted with madness. In fact, it look slightly worried right now as they took in his expression. 

“You called for me?” 

“Ah, yes,” he finally turned his swivel chair towards her so he could give her his full attention. He intertwined his long slender fingers on his lap and gave her a sweet smile. 

“I need you to make preparations. We’ll be going on a little field trip.”

Her questioning gaze almost made him snicker.

“Where are we going? We have a deal to close tomorrow and we can’t—”

“Oh dear, I can’t care less about that now. It can wait.” 

The girl pursed her lips. “Fine. Where are we headed to so I can make arrangements?”

The boy leaned back on his seat, head pressed against the headrest. He grinned at her, the emotion playing in his eyes making her blood run cold. 

“Seoul. We’re going to visit some friends.” 

---

A/N: Hi everyone! Decided to post this today even though it is super short. So I’ve decided to introduce Jihoon... and I would love it if I can have a face claim that I can use for him as a reference. To those who have been following the story, I’d love to know your suggestions! This will make it easier for me to develop him because then I’ll have an idea of how he looks like. <3

Chapter 6: Rapture

#nct au #nct mafia #nct imagines #nct mafia au #nct x reader #lee taeyong #moon taeil #johnny suh #nakamoto yuta #kim doyoung #ten lee #qian kun #lucas wong #mark lee #jung jaehyun #winwin #xiaojun #hendery #liu yangyang #huang renjun #jeno lee #lee haechan #zhong chenle #park jisung #jung sungchan #osaki shotaro #blackdaisiesfic #taeyong x reader #johnny x reader #jaehyun x reader

[nat-20s]

what’s poppin everyone please have this fun lil writing warmup/short story inspired by me thinking “Dancing in the Moonlight” was definitely 100% about werewolves

~*~

“So, this your first transformation?”

The counselor? Leader? Tour guide? Asked this with a perfectly jovial tone, as if the typical social mores surrounding, ugh, lycanthropy, didn’t apply to her. They didn’t know what exact title to call her, and her name tag just said “Luna”, which, reflecting on it, either was a joke on her part or a reflection of her parents’ sense of humor.

Picking at the scabs from last month, they cringed and replied, “No. Uh. Second.”

Luna lets out a low whistle. “Oof. That sucks. Guessing you got bitten rather than inherited the ol’ wolfman gene?”

“That’s...kind of personal?”

Unlocking the front door of the log cabin that served as King Harvest’s Headquarters, Luna shrugs and says, “Shit, sorry. Forgot the whole weird stigma around your source of the once monthly nightmare, as if it fuckin matters. Also, I know, I know, ass out of you and me. Hey, you got any dietary restrictions? Gluten, peanut allergies, the like?”

Voice flat, they tell her, “I’m vegetarian,” and waits for the obvious response.

As they wander through the cabin towards the kitchen, Luna flipping on the light switches, generic club music starts to filter in. Instead of the obvious response, Luna asks, “You like veggie burgers? Or maybe pasta? I’d offer salad, but that’s really not gonna cut it for tonight.”

“I ate before I came.”

With a snort, she tells them, “Oh yeah? Did you have about 4000 calories?”

“No? Why would I have?”

Sweeping out her arm, she gestures at the food laying out on the counter and tells them, “Then eat up! 4000 is really a minimum for the night if you don’t want to feel like someone physically beat out all of your energy in the morning. 6000 is more the target area, but we got, hmm, about 15 minutes before things get uncomfortable, and half an hour max before things get dire.”

They glance down to the food, and, admittedly, the broccoli alfredo does look pretty appealing. Still, they have to ask, “Is this a cult?”

Luna lets out a bark of a laugh that has nothing to do with her (maybe) being a werewolf. “Okay, first of all, what kind of cult is like ‘fuck yeah, we’re a cult’? Secondly, despite the first thing, I can say that we’re not a cult. I know how “King Harvest: Center for Movement Therapy” sounds, both clinical and vague enough to be suspicious as hell, but I didn’t come up with the title, blame my long deceased dad for that one. Plus, ‘King Harvest: Bitchin’ Wolf Dance House’ probably wouldn’t look good on the grant applications.”

“Grants?”

“Oh yeah. This bad boy’s been publicly funded since its opening in 1972. Hence no membership fees.”

“Is that why animal control is giving out your business card? Are they one of your sponsors?”

“Nah, that’s just Jack. Me ‘n’ him go way back, hell, to his park ranger days.  I mean, yeah, I think he’ll campaign for us, but mostly I think he just hates capturing a wolf in the night only to have a naked, trembling human in the morning, and he knows that our program significantly reduces the odds of that happening, at least in this neck of the woods.”

They let out a hum, then glance back down to the food. As appealing as it down look, they’re still about..30% convinced this is an elaborate organ harvesting operation. Or sketchy sex thing.

Apparently sensing their hesitation, Luna says, “You got a favorite chip?”

“Salt and vinegar.”

Grabbing a sealed family sized bag from the overhead cabinets, Luna tosses it to them. “If you come back next full moon, either eat enough in advance or have a real meal here. That being said, excuse the turn of phrase, you should wolf that down. It’s sure as hell better than nothing.”

They catch it, and the bag opens with a puff of air that speaks to a reassuring lack of tampering. As they toss a chip into their mouth, Luna grabs a water bottle from the fridge and places it down next to them. “So? Any questions for me? We’ve still got about ten minutes before we have to go out there.”

Rolling their eyes, they tell her, “No. None at all.”

“Great! Soon as you’re done eating we’ll get you started.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“Yeah, no shit, smart-ass. Seriously, what are your, we haven’t got much time.”

“I don’t know? The whole..thing? I mean, how is it supposed to..work? Like? At all?”

“You ever see Amok Time?”

“Is that relevant?”

“It’s a yes or no question babe.”

“And if I say no?”

“Then the explanation is going to be a lot more technical and take a lot longer, ultimately to likely make less sense.”

“...I’ve seen it.”

“Great! So, Pon Farr is basically this chemical blood imbalance that results in fuck or die disorder, yeah? But then Spock neither fucks nor dies, and eventually the vulcans get their shit together and find out that an intense fight can serve the same function, and the blood fever chills out. Lycanthropy operates on a similar enough basis for comparison. You’re compelled to act out on energetically heavy base instincts, returning to the ways of the wolf or whatever. Traditionally, that’s done through running and hunting, which has, historically, been a crapshoot at best. Theoretically, sex can also get the job done, but I’m sure you can imagine how that gets extremely dicey extremely quickly. Either restraints or isolation has been implemented for a while, but, c’mon, they’re bandaid solutions, and they’re far from foolproof. Luckily for us all, my grandmother decided to connect back with her ancestors, and there was a handful of stories having huge festivals to deal with ‘moon violence’. She tried it out, and, yeah, dancing works.”

“That sounds…”

They don’t know how that sounds. Made up, mostly.

“Like a bunch of hippie bullshit? Yeah, it kind of is, Grandma Josephine was a huge hippie, but it’s hippie bullshit that works. In fact, let’s go see the others, it almost always makes things clearer.”

Figuring that whatever they’re about to see can’t be worse than their transformation last month. They head through the sliding glass door out the back, the thump of the music suddenly loud enough to be felt in their chest. The sight that awaits them makes them drop their chips and let out a gasp. Barely able to speak, they exhale out, “None of them...they’re not wolves. How..how??”

Indeed, the roughly forty people jumping to the pulse of whatever they’re listening to (some to the in house DJ, some, apparently, to what’s playing over the large headphones they have adorned), resemble the image of a wolfman much more accurately. They bare claws, fangs, elongated snouts, upright ears, and  serious amounts of hair, but they’re on two legs, and moving like humans. Some of them are even singing along to the lyrics, which really shouldn’t be possible.

Luna grins, making it obvious that she’s used to this level of shell shocks. “Ultimately, you do have to give into some damn rigorous instincts. But dancing is a human instinct, not a canine one, so you end up, well, humanoid. Pretty nifty, huh?”

“And they all..they all keep their minds? I didn’t...they don’t blackout?”

“Not since we banned alcohol in the 90s! Here, watch this.”

Luna nods her head at the DJ, and the DJ, obligingly, turns down the music for a moment. The members of the crowd not listening to their own music pause, then look towards the door. She cries out, “Hey gang! HOW WE ALL DOIN’ TONIGHT?”, and gets a mix between a howl and “WOO!” cried back. The DJ then turns the music back up, and the general movement of the crowd resumes.

They should be more skeptical. They want to be more skeptical, they were just minutes before, but it’s hard to disagree with something right in front of you. “This will work for me? I just..have to dance?”

“Well, it’s not guaranteed. Few things are. But we have yet to have someone turn violent on us. If you start to fell yourself slipping from consciousness, though, I do ask that you start heading further into the woods, as to not hurt other guest. If you find yourself just getting tired, there’s beds inside, and a fair amount of pillows around the edge of the quote unquote dance floor, if you end up in more of a nesting mood. Also, I recommend taking off your shoes before you start.”

“What? Why?”

Luna gives a pointed glance at the dancers’ feet, which, ah. They’re about twice as large as normal and at least twice as sharp. The converse on their feet would be no match. “Ah.”

“Ready?”

They shove off their shoes and place the remainder of their chips aside. “As I’ll ever be.”

Good thing, too, as they’re starting to feel an uncomfortable pressure in their chest that was the prelude to disaster last month.

Luna strides to the center of the dance floor, which is really a plush lawn surrounded by forest. The crowd naturally moves around her, and she yells out, “Aiyana! Play my song!”

Aiyana gives a nod, and the opening notes of “Dancing in the Moonlight” start to sound out. “Seriously?”

Luna shrugs, grinning like a fool, and says, “It’s a classic!”

“It’s cliché at best.”

Luna shrugs, and then begins dancing. She’s hardly elegant, but she is dazzlingly joyful in her uncoordinated movements. As the song reaches the first chorus, she gives a twirl, and in the split second it takes, she’s transformed. They blink in shock, not knowing you could transform that seamlessly, that quickly, that painlessly. Luna in half wolf form is just as expressive as the human Luna, and she gives a nod over her shoulder as if to say Come on.

Feeling somewhat foolish, they start to bop their head to the tune. Luna lets out a huff and grabs their hands, spinning them around and forcing them to get moving. At first, it’s them indulging Luna, but as they let themselves get lost in rhythm, they feel a stretching sensation in their face and limbs. It’s not unpleasant, more like when you wake up and work out the tension in your spine. They open their eyes and look down at their hands, now covered in fur in and made for slashing. It didn’t hurt. It didn’t hurt, and they’re still themselves, and they had no idea that full moons could be like this, maybe for the rest of their lives.

They turn their head to the night sky, and their body can’t help but continue to dance. Despite all their fear, all their dread, “movement therapy” worked, and they can admit, at least to themselves, that they feel warm and bright.

#my writing #nats journey into writing short stories based on 70s songs continues lmao