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shyficwriter · 3 years

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Shots

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Yondu x Reader, guest starring Peter

Summary: Based on this prompt from anon: "Reader gets drunk for the first time - like REALLY drunk - and Yondu does nooot like it"

Author's note: Title sucks but I couldn't think of anything better. I was actually drunk when I wrote most of this (it's when inspiration finally struck to fulfill the prompt lol) but I obviously finished and edited it sober. That being said, I feel an obligation to say that the things Reader does in this story aren't necessarily written from experience, I was just trying to think what the most embarrassing things you could do while drunk would be lol. Enjoy!

Word Count: 2,470

One thing was certain, and it was that Yondu was going to shove his arrow up his ravagers' collective asses.

Yondu had long suspected you wouldn't be able to handle your liquor ever since you became old enough to drink. He noticed how you always got tipsy after just one beer, however luckily, you always stopped after around two, so it had never really been a problem.

Until tonight, that is. Because everyone was celebrating a big score gone well and Peter thought it'd be fun for you to take shots with him and the guys. Now Yondu had to deal with you being drunk off your ass.

He had pulled Peter aside and growled at him to knock it off earlier that night after he noticed you taking the first shot, saying, "The girl can't handle her liquor, boy! Don't be giving her any more, ya hear me?"

This was met with Peter calling Yondu overprotective, but he ultimately conceded and swore that he wouldn't give you anymore shots.

But Yondu hadn't said anything about Oblo, Tullk, or Horuz, had he?

The others thought it was real funny how giggly and expressive you'd get when drunk, so it didn't take much convincing from Peter for them sneak you shots when Yondu wasn't looking.

By the time Yondu noticed what had happened he was pissed.

He marched over to where you sat next to the guys. You were laughing your ass off at a dumb joke Tullk made, and you were surprised when you saw him and the other three jump up and high tail it out of the way without explanation.

Then Yondu sat in front of you.

"Heyyy!" you giggled, playfully shoving the captain in the shoulder. "Wassup?"

Yondu's eyes narrowed. "How much did you have?"

"What?"

"How much to drink, girl. I know they were giving ya shots, how many?"

You giggled and pretended to look yourself over. "I dunno what ya mean, I haven't been shot." You then preceded to laugh your ass off at what you thought was a hilarious joke.

"PETER!" Yondu snarled, looking around but unable to find the Terran. Kraglin happened to be walking by just then so he settled for pulling him in to see if he could answer the question. "Krags, did'ya happen to see how many she had?"

Kraglin was startled at having been suddenly jerked towards the two of you, but he answered as honestly as he could. "I'm not exactly sure, Cap, but I think I did notice her have at least four? Maybe five? Why?"

Yondu released the first mate's sleeve and sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose. "Dammit. I'm gonna kill Quill." he said, before standing and pulling you up from your seat. "Come on. Yer going to bed." he said gruffly.

"Aw! But I don't want to!" you whined as he dragged you from the bar, unable to even really walk straight.

"Tough." Yondu said. "I don't like ya getting drunk like this. It ain't good fer ya. You'll only get into trouble."

"But ya let the other guys!" you pouted as the doors swung shut behind you and Yondu.

"They can handle it. Ya can't." he said flatly. Almost as if on cue you stumbled and almost brought the two of you down. This caused you to giggle madly as Yondu lost his grip on you.

"Catch me if you can!" you squeal in delight as you take off down the corridor.

Yondu swore under his breath as he ran after you. He might've called his arrow to stop you in your tracks, but he was worried that your drunk ass would accidentally run into the flarkin thing if he stopped it in front of your face to halt you.

Luckily for him you weren't exactly fast in your drunken state and he caught you quickly, grabbing you about the waist and pulling you back.

You squeaked at the contact, batting him away. "That tickles! Don't!" you giggle, squirming away.

Yondu rolled his eyes and sighed, moving his hands to instead rest on your shoulders as he steadied you.

The next couple minutes were relatively quiet, you were just softly giggling and babbling about nonsense while Yondu kept guiding you down the corridor to your quarters.

You were about halfway there when you were hit with a sudden and bad urge to pee. "Wait a sec." you drunkenly slur to your guide and before Yondu could even react you had already pulled down your pants and had squatted to take a piss in the damn hallway.

Once Yondu realized what was happening he jerked back and looked away, both not wanting anything to splash back on him, and also obviously not interested in looking, grateful that your jacket had blocked anything he might have seen before he reacted and looked away. He pinched the bridge of his nose as his face flushed with embarrassment and irritation at the situation, but there wasn't exactly a whole lot he could do about it in the moment, it had just happened so quick. He waited until he heard you stand up before looking back.

"I can't believe ya just pissed on my floor." he grumbled, side-stepping the mess and calling up Kraglin to send someone down to clean the ... "spill..." in the corridor leading towards the crew quarters.

He finally got you to your quarters and ushered you inside so you could sleep it off. He started to nudge you towards your bed when you suddenly announced you were going to be sick.

Yondu's eyes went wide, and not wanting a similar incident like what had happened in the hallway he quickly ripped a nearby trashcan from the floor and shoved it towards you.

After you had finished vomiting you placed the trashcan back on the floor and stumbled back into a seated position on the bed. "I don't feel well..."

"Gee, I wonder why." Yondu said bitterly, arms crossed over his chest. "Ya need to go to bed."

Just then your eyes flew open and you dumped yourself onto the floor, pulling the trashcan back towards you as you began to vomit again.

Yondu sighed. If anyone were to ask him about what he did next he'd deny it. He knelt down next to you and gently pulled your hair back so that you wouldn't get sick into it, and there he stayed for a good bit while you emptied the contents of your stomach.

When you had finally finished you sat up and leaned your back against your bed. Then, almost as if noticing Yondu for the first time you leaned into him and hugged him tightly.

He was almost warmed by the gesture, but then to his chagrin, you started bawling.

He made a grimace but returned the hug tentatively, occasionally giving gentle pats to your back with a "There, there." not really knowing what else to do.

Well, except for one thing. He glanced up to see the door was still opened, and without disturbing you too much from your places on the floor, he kicked it closed. No way in hell was one of his crew going to walk in on this scene and see him being all soft and shit. No way.

Eventually you did start to quiet down and then Yondu attempted to gently prod you into standing up so you could get into bed. Unfortunately for him, you only mumbled nonsense and nuzzled in closer like he was a damn teddy bear or something. So, he gently pried your arms away from him so he could stand up before helping you to your feet.

He had gotten you halfway into bed when it happened. You got sick again. Only this time you didn't use the trashcan. You got sick on him.

Yondu's stomach churned but he kept it together, Taking a not-so-deep breath (because of the smell) to keep himself from angrily setting off. There'd be plenty of time to yell at you in the morning, he reasoned.

He quickly put you the rest of the way in bed and luckily you seemed to fall asleep the moment your head hit the pillow. However, not before mumbling out a, "Night, dad." Yondu raised an eyebrow in surprise, but didn't give himself time to dwell on it. He was eager to leave and get cleaned up.

He was about a quarter of the way to his quarters when he came across a laughing group a ravagers cutting up and being silly in the corridors. It was Peter, Oblo, and Kraglin, and they all stopped laughing when they noticed both the murderous look on their captain's face and the mess of sick on his clothes as he approached.

Yondu didn't stop to talk. Merely glared at them as he made his way past. "Not. A. Word." he growled at their surprised faces.

They obeyed, but it didn't stop their giggles once they thought he was out of earshot and they put two and two together. You were really gonna get it in the morning, they thought.

***

The next morning Yondu gave extra cleaning duties to Peter and the other ravagers who got you plastered the night before. He didn't say it was punishment for what happened, after all it wasn't like there was a rule against it, but they still knew he was mad. He had woken them up at 5am to tell them to get started while everyone else slept in, after all.

He called you into his quarters shortly after and you made your way over hungover and groggy, the previous night mostly a blur.

You lightly rapped on his door to announce your presence and flinched when you were met with a loud "Come in! It's open!"

You opened the door and groaned as you entered the room that Yondu had made uncharacteristically bright by seemingly turning on every freaking light he had. Through squinted eyes you made out the form of your captain and you cringed again when he called out in a booming voice, "Have fun last night?" making your temples throb.

Basically, Yondu was being a dick.

You grunted in response and he spoke up again. "So, ya remember anything from last night?" he asked, randomly speaking certain words louder than they needed to be, just to make you further regret your hangover.

You rubbed a hand over your eyes and made another grunt while shrugging your shoulders.

"What was that? Couldn't hear ya." he said, a slight smirk playing over his lips.

You groaned and spoke up, "I dunno. Had some drinks with Peter and the guys, went to bed?" You honestly didn't know why he had to call you in so damn early. Whatever mischief you got up to with the guys couldn't have been that bad that this couldn't wait until noon.

"Oh hoho, no!" Yondu laughed almost bitterly, clapping his hands together with a loud pop that made you flinch in pain from the loud noise. "Ya did a lot more than that, missy."

You just stared up at him weakly, half not giving a shit & wishing to go back to bed and half worried you had done something either dangerous or embarrassing.

"I s'pose ya don't remember getting sick all over me?" he asked.

Your eyes flew wide, your former grogginess forgotten. Oh no. Please let him be joking. "I'm- so sorry." you stammered, both in embarrassment and in concern for how he was going to deal with you for that. Surely you wouldn't get off scot-free for vomiting on your captain. "I- sorry- I-" you didn't really know what to say. You had apparently thrown up all over your captain the night before. What could you say?

"Oh that ain't all." Yondu said in a tone that was obvious it was about to get worse.

Your stomach fell. What could possibly be worse than having drunkenly vomited on your captain? You could feel your cheeks turning pink as you cringed and asked, "Do I wanna know?"

"Prob'ly not, but I'm gonna tell ya anyway." Yondu said, his hands on his hips. "Ya remember when ya pissed in the hallway?"

Your face turned scarlet. "What?! Please tell me you're joking."

"Nope. Ya ripped yer drawers down and popped a squat right in the corridor."

You covered your burning face with your hands. That. That was what could be worse than throwing up on your captain- literally pissing on his floor in front of him. This was so humiliating, and it only got worse once you realized you probably did it in front of the rest of the crew too. You lowered your hands and asked, "Oh god. How many people saw??"

Yondu wanted to scare you a bit and tell you that you did it in front of the whole crew, but he saw tears start to form in your eyes and just couldn't bring himself to do it. "Lucky fer you, no one but me. Ya did it when I was dragging yer ass to your quarters to sleep it off. Ya didn't get sick on me til after that."

Oddly enough, that didn't make you feel much better. You tried to wipe the tears from your eyes. "God, I'm never drinking again."

Yondu scoffed with a laugh. "Yeah, I've heard that one before. Ain't no one who's ever said that follows through though," he chuckled. He expected you to laugh too, but he made a grimace when he saw how miserable you looked. "Aw, come here." he said, pulling you into a hug. "Look, everyone's done embarrassin' shit when they're drunk. It's just part of life. It ain't the end of the world."

You sniffed. "Even you?"

Yondu rolled his eyes and begrudgingly answered. "Ya brat. Even me." He could tell you wanted to ask, but he moved the conversation along, moving to hold you out at arm's length. "Better?"

You sheepishly nod and say, "I guess..."

"Good. Ya can be off then."

You looked at him in confusion. "You mean I'm not in trouble?"

Yondu laughed. "Well, from the look on your face, I thought the humiliation was punishment enough, but since ya asked I guess I can assign ya extra kitchen duties this week. Ya can fill in tonight through Thursday for Gef."

You grimaced but accepted your fate. "Yes, sir," you say before turning to leave his quarters.

Yondu chuckled and shook his head after you closed the door behind you, flipping off some of the unnecessary lights. There may be some hiccups now and then, but his not-so-little girl wasn't turning out too bad.

And even though he knew you'd deny it sober, he was proud you called him dad.

But he'd be damned if he let you drink with Peter again.

#gotg #guardians of the galaxy #gotg fic #fanfic #yondu #yondu udonta #yondu x reader #drunk #drinking #peter quill #ravagers #reader is a ravager #fluff #embarrassing #fanfiction #dad!yondu #papa!yondu

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peachbear88 · 3 years

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So This is Love (Pt 5)

Inspiration: Only Us - Dear Evan Hansen

Throughout the next few months, you. notice a change in Wanda. She trusts you more, trusts everyone more, even if it was only a little change. You're delighted to discover that she's making an effort to bring the walls down and let people in, slowly but surely. Of course she still has boundaries but a lot less now, especially when it comes to you. The two of you became inseparable, wherever she went, you were by her side. When she couldn't sleep, you were there, comforting her. During missions, you were there, protecting her (it was more like her protecting you). Whatever the case, you were there to assist her. However, this all changed on one fateful night.

"Alright, what do you want to watch?" You ask as you pull the blanket down, engulfing the both of you in a fluffy mess. "Have you ever seen 'Dear Evan Hansen'"? She looks up at you with those huge puppy eyes, making your heart melt just a little. "Can't say I have. What's it about?" She lets out a squeal of excitement before snatching the remote control from your hand. "You'll have to wait and see." She grins before settling back down into the couch, unaware of the stupid grin on your face as you watch her bounce up and down with the energy of a thousand suns. "Alright squirt, you better hope for your sake that I like it." You tease, slinging your arm around her and you take note on how she flinches a little but leans into you. The musical sends her through a whirlwind of emotions and you can't deny, you did tear up once in a few minutes.

"The ending is so sad!" Wanda bawls as you pat her reassuringly on the shoulder, passing her a tissue with your other hand which she gratefully accepts, blowing her nose violently. "There there." You coo, checking the time only to realize that it's 2:00 in the morning. "I don't see why you like that musical so much." You get a warning glare to which you raise your hands in surrender. "Alright I better get you to bed before Steve murders me for being such a bad influence." She squints at you, her nose wrinkling which makes your heart flutter. You stand up, offering her a hand. She grabs your hand, pulling herself up, only to falter in her step, falling on top of you. "Ooh..." You groan, the air knocked out from your body. You open your eyes to find Wanda's face only inches from yours. Your brain kicks into high gear at her sudden closeness. You notice the little flecks of blue in her bright green eyes, the way her cheeks are flushed, the light freckles on her face. You're frozen, staring right into her eyes until you chance a look at her soft, pink lips. She notices the shift in your eyes and instantly rolls off of you, jumping to her feet. "I... uh- I'm going to go to bed. See you later." She mutters, a frown pasted on her face. You pull yourself into a seating position, grumbling to yourself. "I didn't even do anything."

Wanda spends the next few days avoiding you at all costs. Of course the team notices. I mean, how can they not notice that the duo were no longer conjoined at the hip but standing at the furthest ends of the room, making it their mission to be as far apart as possible. Nobody bothers you besides the occasional sympathetic glance. Your habits change from laughing and joking with Wanda and the group to opting to sit out on missions and team activities, and stay in your room.

Finally, Nat (being the badass she is) has enough of your mopey, lovesick behavior. You're sitting on your bed, reading a book peacefully when Nat storms into your room, slamming the door with a harsh BANG. It no doubt attracts a lot of attention but Nat couldn't care less right now. "Alright, you're going to tell me why you and your best bud over there are trying to keep 15 miles between the two of you and why you're dragging yourself around like some lovesick puppy that's missing a leg. You gape at her. "Uh, you ever heard of something called privacy?" You exclaim, shutting your book. She glares at you, unamused. "Answer the question Y/N." You sigh, placing your book back on the nightstand. "I don't even know what I did. I gave her a hand up, she tripped and fell, she crushed me, I looked at her lips and-," Nat interrupts, her eyes gleaming. "You kissed?" You wrinkle your nose in disgust, chuckling. "No you weirdo. She just rolled off me and left. And here we are, with her avoiding me like I've got the plague." She flashes you a sympathetic look. "Want me to talk to her?" You look up, giving her a small but grateful smile. "That would be really great." She gives you a gentle pat on the back before swiftly exiting, giving you one last fleeting glance.

Non-Reader POV

Wanda looks up to hear a gentle knock on her door. "Come in." She whispers. The door swings open to reveal Natasha. Wanda's heart falls a little as she hoped it would be you knocking on her door. Nat makes her way over to Wanda's bed, sitting down beside her. The two sit in a comfortable silence before Nat breaks it. "So... You want to tell me why you're avoiding Y/N?" She takes a shaky breath before answering. "Because of this feeling. It's not normal. It's exciting but terrifying at the same time. I guess you could call it love." Wanda appears to be on the verge of tears. Nat schooches closer to her, wrapping a firm arm around the younger girl's shoulders. "She's a good person, I know but I can't help but fear that one day, she'll be gone and I'll be thrown back into the hurricane of regret and remorse." She sobs, burying her head in Nat's shoulder. Nat doesn't reply, choosing to just hold her closer, occasionally muttering words of comfort. Unbeknownst to both of the women, you've been right outside the room, listening to Wanda, your heart cracking with every word that slips from her mouth.

"Nat, I really don't want to go outside." Wanda complains, as Nat hauls ass to drag Wanda to the balcony of the Avengers Compound. "Come on, I swear it'll be worth it." Nat groans, dragging a skeptical Wanda with her. Nat shoves open the balcony door and Wanda steps outside. "Wow..." She breathes, taking in the gentle fairy lights strung around the edge of the balcony, the thin plaid blanket covering the cold concrete floor and you, standing behind a portable piano.

Reader POV

"Thanks Nat." You wave at the ex-assassin, giving her a friendly smile. She winks at the both of you, stifling a laugh when she takes in Wanda's frantic expression. "Nat. Don't. Leave. Me. Here." Wanda whispers through gritted teeth. "Don't worry, you'll be fine. Have fun you two!" She smiles before locking the two of you out on the balcony. "Traitor." Wanda sighs, eliciting a giggle from you. She looks over at you and reluctantly sits down on the blanket. "So what's up?" You decide to go straight to the point. "I heard your conversation with Nat the other day." You mumble as you fiddle with the piano. Her eyes widen, a mortified expression plastered on her face. "I uh... I wasn't really sure what to say so... I decided to do this instead." You continue , taking a deep breath and before she can interrupt, you let your hands flow, playing a smooth string of chords.

"I don't need you to sell me on reasons to want you."

"I don't need you to search for the proof that I should."

"You don't have to convince me."

"You don't have to scared you're not enough."

"'Cause what we've got going is good."

"I don't need more reminders of all that's been broken."

"I don't need you to fix what I'd rather forget."

"Clear the slate and start over."

"Try to quiet the noises in your head."

"We can't compete with all that."

"So what if it's us, what if it's us, and only us.

"And what came before won't count anymore, or matter."

"Can we try that?"

"What if it's you, and what if it's me, and what if that's all that we need it to be?"

"And the rest of the world falls away."

"What do you say?"

You stop singing, your throat parched, your eyes watering slightly but all that matters is the chestnut-haired, green eyed girl in front of you. By the looks of it, she's as moved by the song as you are. She stands up, lip trembling before throwing her arms around you in a bone-crushing hug. "Ribs." You squeak, and she laughs through her tears, giving you one last squeeze before releasing you. "You remembered the musical. You said it was boring!" She sniffs. You stare at her adoringly, wiping the tears from her eyes. "So what do you say?" You grin at her cheekily but she beats you to it, leaning in and kissing you. Your eyes widen before you relax, leaning into the kiss, your hands on her waist, hers resting on your shoulders.

Little do you know that Steve and Nat have been watching your little performance and needless to say, it left Steve in tears and Nat with a soaking wet shirt as Steve sobbed into her chest. "They're both growing up s-so fast..." He hiccuped before sobbing uncontrollably again. "There there." Nat sighed, patting him halfheartedly on the back. "They'll be fine." She smiles watching the two of you pull away and watch the stars with the occasional adoring look at each other.

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

Part 5! Wow! Damn I'm writing too fast for my own good. I just wanted to know, would you guys like for me to make a sequel series to this series or just write the rest of the story all in this one series? Because I got ANGST and DRAMA planned my dudes. Let me know!

Taglist: @username23345

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda fluff #wanda maximoff #marvel #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff x you

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honeybeethewriter · 3 years

Text

wearing my heart like a crown

Ship: Luckae/Kaeluc

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 1K+ Words

Tags: Angst, Hurt/No Comfort, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Delusional Fantasizing, Yearning

Read on AO3

Some days, Kaeya can handle things well.

"Take that!"

The children gathered on the steps overlooking the Knights' training area clap and squeal in joy. The playful and strong Captain Kaeya has incapacitated his opponent, a poor young knight, by caging his legs in a block of ice.

The knight loses his bearing and falls flat on his face, followed by another chorus of childish giggles.

Kaeya taps the tip of his sword on his head.

"I win."

Kaeya waves to the children and bows dramatically, even makes a show of spinning his sword with his usual flamboyant flourish before tucking it away.

Behind him, he hears a familiar voice address him.

"Captain." Jean's tone is stern but mostly exasperated. She sighs. "You know you're not supposed to use your Vision training the new recruits, correct?"

It takes Kaeya a moment to reply, making faces at the children delighted at his impression of Jean scolding him. Eventually, he turns around, his gaze traveling almost lazily to meet Jean's.

"Oh, right! Right. Pardon me. I admit I just can't help participating in some light hazing when the newbies just look so cute shaking in their boots."

Jean shakes her head. "Hurry and put away the training equipment. We have a meeting to attend."

Some days, Kaeya can handle things well. Really well.

(Almost disturbingly well, actually.

Not a single soul in Mondstadt was left unaware of the tragedy that befell the late Master Ragnvindr; one son leaving without a word soon after and the other son brutalized and left licking his wounds with no more family fall back on.

And yet it wasn't even a week later when the lonesome Kaeya was already back on his feet and dancing through town again. All smiles, teasing winks, and an incredible ability to put anyone at ease despite the circumstances.

Good for him, everyone had thought, that he could recover so quickly after everything he'd been through. Sure it was a little strange just how well he was taking things, but why wish the boy more grief? If he's fine, then that's just for the best, isn't it? Isn't he?)

And this is because Kaeya, as it turns out, is a daydreamer.

A natural born charmer, Kaeya charms even himself. Charms himself with visions and fantasies of red hair and the smell of charcoal and grape stained fingers. Tricks himself with these beautiful lies.

All in order to get by. And, with varying degrees of success, he does.

Except for today.

Kaeya knows why his charm isn’t working today. Of course he does. The reason had been poisoning his body with... with... with something nasty, something unbearable this entire past week. And that is: exactly a year ago today, he lost every that’s ever meant anything to him.

And Jean grabs him by the arm on their way out from the Knights' headquarters after their meeting with a disgustingly sympathetic look on her pretty face. Kaeya has to swallow down the bile traveling up his throat from how much he hates it.

Stop looking at me like that. Stop acting as if there’s something to feel bad about. Stop making it harder to pretend. Stop it stop it stop it stop it stop it stop it—

I’m fine.

“I’m fine.” Kaeya’s voice is soft, calm when he says it.

And Jean—believes—Kaeya. Has her worries and her doubt washed away because in that short moment (just in that moment), Kaeya’s charm kicks in successfully, the kind of successful where both Jean and Kaeya really believe it.

He’s fine.

"I'd offer to buy you a drink if you didn't already have one." The boyish face these words come from looks up at him through half-lidded eyes, obviously already tipsy, Kaeya can tell, from the pink in his cheeks. "Might you accept my company instead?"

A little bit taller than him, muscular but not too bulky, a charming splatter of freckles over the bridge of his nose—and striking red hair.

Kaeya knew before coming here that spending his night at Angel's Share would be incredibly stupid. Why would he come to a place so deeply connected to —, everything about this tavern just reminds him of —, but maybe if he drowns in enough wine he can pretend he’s actually with —

Yes, incredibly stupid, yet here he is. Because he wants to be drunk. Because he figures being a miserable little boy watching painful memories play out at the bottom of a wine glass is well-earned punishment for a sinner like him.

But a sinner always falls for temptation.

“I’ve been waiting all night for you,” Kaeya slurs, flirtatious and breathless. “No need to act all coy. I’m an impatient man, remember?”

Redhead blinks, blushes, and gasps in astonishment. “So you do remember me. Oh, wow.” Kaeya is slowly nodding along to every word, mindless, gaze unfocused and hazy. “I know I’m just a humble merchant and you’re a dashing knight, but I figured I’d, uh, shoot my shot when I saw you sitting here. Ah, ahem, you’re the prettiest man I’ve ever seen and—“

“Don’t you wanna fuck me already?”

Redhead blinks once more, blushes even deeper, then stutters flustered affirmation as Kaeya grabs him by the front of his tunic.

Hot puffs of breath tickle the side of Kaeya’s neck. Warm, so warm. The broad chest snug against his back pushes him flatter against the alley wall with every thrust.

Kaeya arches his back, tenses every muscle in his body, then reaches a hand between his legs to stroke himself to completion.

His body aches.

Perfect.

Calloused hands turn his face to the side and suddenly he’s being kissed. Kaeya’s vision comes back into focus and he sees—green eyes hidden beneath locks of red hair.

"Get off me." Kaeya's voice is soft.

The man—not Diluc—hums in confusion. "O-oh, sorry, am I hurting you?”

"Get the fuck off me!" Ice like daggers fly through the air where Kaeya has swung his arm about in anger.

The man scrambles away, hurrying to pull his trousers over his hips.

Kaeya falls to his knees. Tastes gravel on his tongue.

It's several hours later before he's able to drag his body to his woefully empty apartment.

*:･ﾟ✧

"I'm sorry."

Kaeya buries his head into Diluc's chest, the thudding of that familiar heartbeat like the sound of a lullaby. His tears soak Diluc's shirt, his tight grip threatening to rip the fabric, and he vows to never let go again.

"I'm sorry too, Kaeya."

Kaeya bawls. Almost screams. He cries so hard his head pounds, but the warmth encircled around his waist is all he cares about.

"Don't leave me, don't leave me, don't leave me...."

The arms tighten their hold.

"I won't."

The blooming in Kaeya's chest fills him with happiness, but bites him at the same time.

Kaeya trembles, curls into himself, makes himself smaller, like a little boy on his bed.

"Thank you," he croaks into his bedsheets, lamp grass petals scattered all over, the crushed stem rubbed into the cloth. Kaeya inhales the sugary scent of nectar. "Thank you for coming back to me."

#fanfic #kaeluc #luckae #angst #kaeya #diluc #genshin impact #my writing

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whimsimmortal · 4 years

Text

Plot Bunny

Wow, I’m alive! And posting fanfiction on tumblr, as if I have any idea what I’m doing!! Please check it out on AO3, where I am actually capable of navigating the website: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27441853

Plink. Another small, innocuous sound scarcely registered past Danny’s homework-induced stupor. It could have been a stray raindrop or a kamikaze bug. He had more important things demanding his attention; namely, the book report due tomorrow. This was at least the fifth time he’d rewritten the same paragraph. Words had lost all meaning to him by this point, but he was so close to finishing.

Tip-tap. Clonk, the noise emitting from the bedroom window insisted. He glared suspiciously towards the disturbance, envisioning ethereal arrows or blob ghosts intent on breaking in. He hadn’t sensed anything ghostly nearby, but given his luck, the paranoia was usually warranted. Emitting a groan from the depths of his soul, he rose from his desk to inspect the noise. He spared a second to stretch and shake the pins and needles out of his fingers, trying to wake up. Just in case it was something serious, y'know. Tink. “Alright, jeez, I’m coming,” he muttered, pulling back his curtain.

There weren’t any ghosts, of course. That was somewhat of a relief, even if going down swinging was preferable to succumbing to a failing high school education. The early sunset gleamed amber off the windows across the street, and the sky was clear, except for— chink— the pebbles bouncing off his window. A lone kid was standing on the sidewalk below, no older than eight or nine. He looked vaguely familiar. He was pulling his arm back to throw more stones and bawling his eyes out.

Danny yanked open the window, sliding up the screen to fully stick his head out. His core vibrated, unsettled. There wasn’t any obvious danger, and the kid didn’t look hurt. Where were his parents? Why was he here? “Hey! What’s wrong, buddy? Are you okay?”

“You, you, you,” the kid tried to start, but great hiccupping sobs interrupted him. He scrubbed his face with his fists, obviously trying to regain his composure. “You’ve gotta send the ghost hero out!”

Danny jerked back, unintentionally smacking the back of his skull on the underside of the window. Well, now he was awake. What? “Uh, a ghost? Here? No, there isn’t—I can’t—what are you talking about?”

The boy was right up against the side of the house now, sniffling loudly and staring straight up at Danny with wide, sad eyes. “Please?” He whined, winding his hands up in the fabric of his sweater nervously.

Well, now he was stuck. Some random kid was going to out his whole identity, but the urge to help was almost overwhelming. “I can’t—there can’t be any ghosts here, but give me a second and I can just come down?” He offered. “Do you want me to find your parents?”

“Noooo!” The kid wailed and stomped his foot, banging on the wall with his tiny fists. “Don’t lie to me! I’ve seen the superman ghost go in there! Let him out! I need him!!”

Oh, crap, someone was going to hear. This kid’s parents were going to freak out, or his own parents were going to notice, and what if they took that kind of claim seriously? Shoot. Literally. He chuckled nervously. “Hey, hey, shhh, okay! You win! I’ll, uh, summon him, or something! But you have to be quiet, or you’ll, y’know, scare him off.” The child nodded solemnly, wiping his nose on the back of his sleeve and stifling his sobs.

Danny ducked back behind the curtain, gracelessly crumpling to sit with his back against the wall. He ran his hands through his hair. He’d been seen? When? He’d tried so hard to be careful, and use invisibility whenever he was close to the house. Maybe he’d gotten lazy. Maybe, sometimes, he let the promise of sleep take priority over precautions. Stupid. He smacked the palm of his hand into his forehead, frustrated. How long had this kid known? Who else had he told? He couldn’t just scare him into silence, he was too little. That was just messed up, he’d give him nightmares or something.

He wasn’t going to figure anything out by sitting here moping. He triggered the transformation, the familiar prickling electric feeling swiftly replaced by the soothing cold. He turned to peek over the edge of the window, checking for anyone else around. It was still just the same kid, kicking at a pebble on the concrete while he waited.

He floated down slowly, not wanting to startle his impromptu visitor, who turned and saw him as he touched down. The little guy gasped, forgotten tears slipping away from unblinking eyes.

“Hi there,” Danny prompted gently. “Were you looking for me?”

The kid kept ogling, mesmerized, and a few seconds passed by before he could shake himself out of it. “Wow, you’re the real superhero guy,” he whispered reverently.

Oh. That was pretty cute, actually. He couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, that’s me. You can call me Phantom,” he offered.

“I’m Wyatt,” the kid mumbled, covering his damp cheeks with his hands shyly. He tipped his head down, still staring through his eyelashes.

A neighbor’s front door opened down the street, and Danny swiftly disappeared. Wyatt startled, blindly swinging his hands back and forth through the seemingly-empty space. “Wait! Come back!” He recoiled with a yelp when his blundering reach made contact with the specter.

“It's okay, I’m right here,” he reassured the kid. “But we can’t let people know I’m here, okay? They’ll—um. I’ll get in trouble.”

Wyatt squinted, reaching forward again. Danny offered his hand, and the little fingers gripped his glove tightly. He looked like he was offering the empty air a fist bump. “Right,” the kid agreed earnestly.

“Seriously,” Danny pressed. “You can’t tell anyone that I li-” he bit his tongue. Don’t say ‘live’. That’s so dumb. “Uh. Hang out here sometimes. Not even your friends, okay? Promise?”

Wyatt’s little dark eyebrows drew together, and despite his trembling chin and small stature, he looked profoundly serious. He shook the hand. “I promise.”

Well, that would have to do for now. “Thanks. Uh, what did you need me for?”

The kid’s eyes immediately started to well up again, but he squeezed Danny’s fingers and pressed his lips to put on a brave face. “C’mon, Phantom, you’ve gotta-” he sniffed. “You gotta save Fuzzy,” he warbled, turning and pulling. The ghost floated behind like a balloon on a string as the pair stepped down from the curb, heading across the street.

Oh, man, if this was about a dead pet, he wasn’t sure what he was going to do. That was closer to Jazz’s expertise. He swallowed his mounting dread. “Who’s Fuzzy?”

Wyatt’s face scrunched up. “He’s my bunny,” he explained, looking away. “I was just tryin’ to show ‘im to Audrey, and—and then,” he sobbed. “He went under the house! And he’s gonna get lost and stuck, and I’m-, never-, gonna see him ever again!” He let go, burying his face in his hands and howling.

Danny rested a hand lightly on Wyatt’s little shoulder, throat tight. He’d never had a pet like that, but he could understand the fear of losing loved ones a little too well, and empathy always felt more forceful when he was in ghost form. Probably something related to ectoplasm being shaped by residual emotional energy, blah blah ecto-science theory. “Don’t worry, we’ll find him.”

The unusual duo walked two more houses down the block and cut through a side yard to a modest backyard, strewn with outdoor toys and an overturned wire fence—likey an outdoor pen for Fuzzy. An even younger girl sat on the paved patio, chewing on the end of her braid. She leaped up as they drew close. “Wyatt! I told my dad about Fuzzbutt, and he’ll call the—um, animal people. But they’re not here yet. Did you find him?”

Wyatt glanced a little to Danny’s left with a guilty expression. Well, crap, so much for his secret. He bit his lip, trying to keep his cool. First things first. A cursory scan of the area didn’t show anyone else in the immediate vicinity, so he faded back into visibility. The little girl—‘Audrey’, he guessed—gave a muffled shriek. “Ghost man!”

“Hush,” Wyatt scolded, voice quavering. “He’s a secret.”

“Oh,” Audrey whispered back. “Hello, mister normal guy man. I think you’re cool.” She beamed up at him.

“Hello, small ordinary human,” Danny quipped, and Audrey giggled delightedly. Wyatt dropped to his hands and knees, crawling up to the house, where a gap between the foundation and dirt was evident. The other two peeked over his shoulder, but there wasn’t any bunny visible past the darkness.

“Fuzzy,” Wyatt choked out. “Hang in there, we’re gonna rescue you!”

Danny turned intangible, letting his molecules seep down through the dirt past the level of his nose. He drifted close to the base of the house, juicing up the glow from his eyes. “Just wait here, okay?” Two grim, round little faces nodded back, and with that minor assurance, he delved beneath the house.

The weight of the floor above loomed. It was claustrophobic, like being buried… well, half-alive. The musty, dank mildew smell was gross, even though he wasn’t breathing. He could taste it. “Here, bunny, bunny,” he muttered. Please don’t be hurt.

A tiny pair of eyes reflected green through the gloom. The little ball of fluff was backed into a corner, and it snorted like a tiny angry bull, stomping its feet. Danny hadn’t even known rabbits could make that sound. It probably didn’t like his creeping, unnatural aura, like most rational animals. “Shhh,” he cooed, reaching for the tiny, grubby ball of fluff and dimming his glow. “I’m not gonna hurt ya.”

Fuzzbutt wasn’t convinced. In a courageous move, it darted through Danny’s forehead, wedging itself under a crooked board and squealing. Danny reached easily through the plank and wrapped his hands around the unhappy creature, sharing his intangibility. It writhed and fussed, trying to bite through his gloves. “Stop that!” He clutched it close to his chest; if he dropped it here, the stubborn thing really would be stuck. He swooped back out into the backyard, startling the anxiously waiting kids.

Audrey shrieked and tipped over. Wyatt recovered first, leaping to his Velcro-sneakered feet expectantly. “Is he okay?”

Danny recovered a more solid form, holding up the wiggling rabbit. Wyatt gasped, fresh tears glittering on his eyelashes. He reached out for the beloved pet, unable to contain his joy at the reunion. “Fuzzy! You’re okay! I love you, Fuzzy!”

“Let’s go inside first, so he doesn’t get away again?” Danny suggested. The last thing anyone needed was an instant replay. Audrey darted to open the back door, and Wyatt led the way inside. He sat on the wooden floor with open arms, and as soon as the door was firmly shut again, Danny deposited the squirming animal into his lap. Fuzzy looked marginally more content to receive numerous sloppy kisses from his adoring owner. He was actually a pretty cute little guy, black and white like a panda.

Even footsteps padded around the corner. “Wyatt, baby? Did you find-” the woman’s question cut off abruptly as she noticed the glowing stranger in her living room.

Crud. At this rate, the whole block was going to find him out before the week was up. He edged back a little, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, I was just, um,” darn it, wrong persona. He cleared his throat and squared his shoulders. “Doing my heroic duty, ma’am,” he finished in a falsely deep voice.

Audrey giggled (he didn’t sound that bad!), and the woman smiled nervously. Wyatt hopped to his feet, still cradling his bunny. “Mama! Look, he saved Fuzzy! I’m gonna rename him Fuzzy Phantom,” he declared.

Mama Wyatt dutifully stroked the bunny’s dusty ears. “Fuzzy Phantom needs a bath,” she commented, before looking back up to meet Danny’s eyes. She held out her clean hand, and it took him a second to recognize the offered handshake. He started to reach back, thought twice about his messy glove, and hastily peeled it off to shake her hand. Her fingers were delicate, but they didn’t falter at the chill. “You look taller on the TV,” she joked lightly. “It’s nice to meet you. Phantom, right?”

He nodded. “Uh, it was nice to meet you, too, Ms.-?”

“Sylvie Rosales,” she supplemented. Audrey snuck around her to flounce deeper into the house, taking the adult’s distraction as an invitation, and Wyatt started to follow her, but hesitated. He snuck a hand out around Fuzzy to tug on Danny’s arm, so he leaned down accommodatingly.

Wyatt stood on his tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Can I come see you sometimes?”

Oh, heck, no. That would be truly asking for disaster. “No,” he quickly replied, but before Wyatt’s pout could evolve into a true objection, he added, “but if you really don’t tell anyone how to find me, I could drop by sometimes.” He looked towards Ms. Rosales. “If that’s okay?”

Wyatt looked over to his mom pleadingly, stars in his eyes. What have I gotten myself into, Danny wondered, but he couldn’t help feeling charmed. Ms. Rosales looked like she was thinking along the same lines, with her thin-lipped smile and folded arms. “As long as you don’t cause any trouble,” she hedged.

“Thank you!!” Wyatt hugged Danny spontaneously, smushing his face into his shoulder. Fuzzy grunted his objection.

Danny ruffled the kid’s mop of hair. “I should get going. Take care of Fuzzy,” he grinned, pulling away. “And stay safe,” he added in his false baritone with a mock salute.

“You, too,” he heard Ms. Rosales call after him as he phased through the wall. He looped above the street once cheerfully before disappearing to sneak back home. He’d left his window open; rose-tinted light and a handful of moths had spilled onto his bedroom floor. This time, he didn’t reappear or turn back until he’d stealthily drawn the window and curtains closed.

He still had an hour or so to plug into his homework. He hummed as he started back in on the paragraph he’d been stuck on. It didn’t seem as daunting now, even with the lost time and near reveal. He’d have to keep an eye on his nosy little neighbor, but in the end, maybe it was the moments like today that made the whole gig worth it.

#Whimsi writes #Whimsi forgot how she wrote her tags #Danny Phantom #fanfiction #fluff #cute #wholesome #drabble #plot bunny

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vee-angel · 4 years

Text

Non-consent Nancy (part 2, repost)

(Technically this is part 3, I just posted part 1 and 2 as a single post)

CONTENT WARNING: This story focuses on a lesbian black woman who fetishizes rape, misogyny, racism, and abuse. This section briefly checks in with her recently raped Jewish friend, but the bulk of this section will focus on Nancy violently abusing and raping a young female-to-male transgender person.

And if you happen to be the type of person who might feel bad about getting off to a hate-crime (or you’re just a decent person who enjoys indecent erotica), consider donating to Trans Lifeline at translifeline.org

(Part of the Pervert Pentet Series)

Chapter 1, part 3

Nancy got a warm, fuzzy feeling when a mutual friend texted her saying that Hannah had been attacked and was presently being treated for her injuries at the hospital. She rushed out the door, eager to see the damage inflicted on her close friend.

She headed to a room on the second floor after a brief consultation with the hospital receptionist, Entering, she saw Hannah sitting in the bed; her spirit broken and so was her beak-like nose. The normally large protrusion that jutted from the center of her face was now swollen to even more ridiculous proportions. Nancy couldn’t help but let a laugh escape from her throat, but quickly stifled it, putting her hands to her face and passing it off as a cry of horror.

Hoping to add to her pain just a little bit more, Nancy rushed to her side and flung her arms around the little kike, squeezing her face tightly against her large breasts. She twitched and pulled away, obviously in pain.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I should have realized you’re not really touchable.” Nancy was proud that even now, she could drop subtle, subconscious jabs showing how repellent she thought Hannah was. “What happened, Hannah??”

“Somebody posted my pictures online. The ones I sent to you.” Her voice was even more whiny than normal; she sat hunched, staring down at her knees. “I don’t know how they got them, but they were giving out my address, too!” She began to weep. “Someone was pretending to be me, saying that I wanted to be… That I wanted this to happen. What’d I do, Nancy? I never did anything to anybody that would make them want to hurt me like this!” The sobs escalated to an ugly bawling.

Nancy sat, pulling her face into an expression of concern. She handed a tissue box to Hannah. “People will hate you no matter what you do. Some people just get off on hurting the weak. There’s not much you can do about that fact.”

Everyone hates you, you’re weak, you should give up hope; Somehow Nancy had managed to word those sentiments as though they were aimed to comfort.

After a few more moments of Hannah wiping the tears from her twisted, squealing Jew face, she turned back to Nancy, “I really appreciate you being here for me.”

“Of course! You’re one of my best friends. If you ever need to talk about what happened, I want you to know that I’m here for you, day or night.”

The two women spoke a few minutes longer, until Nancy elected to leave to make room for Hannah’s family, who had just arrived. She certainly didn’t want to get trapped in a room reeking so strongly of kikes.

She attended classes until late afternoon, at which time she popped over to her apartment to pick up the spy-cameras she’d had overnighted, then went back to the rape-crisis center hoping that Darla would return. She didn’t, but at least Nancy got some practice secretly surveilling some of the girls that came in.

That evening, she began to feel antsy. After all the delights she’d had the luck to witness in the last few days, she was starting to feel restless. She needed someone to rape.

She had a dating app in her phone that she’d set up under a fake name. She scanned through the few women who’d messaged or admired her, none of them were especially appealing. She decided to look at the males, thinking that maybe she could rape-bait one of them into assaulting her; it wasn’t exactly what she wanted, but then again, the wants of a man, especially a would-be rapist, would always surmount hers.

That’s when she saw it. A little cuntboy who called itself Angelo. If this thing thought it passed for male, it was sorely mistaken. She scanned the confused dyke’s profile and found the term “f2m” hidden at the bottom. Based on the message she’d sent Nancy, it seemed the desperate little twat was a little girl-crazy.

Nancy had a plan. She wrote back to Angelo, saying how handsome ‘he’ was, and how she’d love for them to get together soon.

The next evening, Nancy made her way to the restaurant that Angelo had picked out for them. The tranny cuntboy was already waiting on a bench out front. It sheepishly stood and introduced itself with a voice awkwardly forced into a lower register, then gave a quick, awkward hug before beckoning Nancy to join it inside.

A few inches shorter than Nancy’s statuesque frame, dirty blond hair cut short and neatly parted at the side, freckled cheeks beneath green eyes, and rather stylishly dressed; a white button-down shirt whose top two buttons were flirtatiously undone beneath a charcoal suit that actually managed to fit over the freak’s boyish frame. Angelo was just her type, not that Nancy would admit to the attraction.

Nancy had leaned into her femme side. A short, flowy, scarlet dress adorned her dark-chocolate skin, accessorized with a layered gold necklace and a druzy ring carved from a single piece of amethyst.

Angelo seemed eager to please, though just slightly on the timid side. Nancy laughed at “his” jokes, touched “his” hand from across the table, and looked down with a demure smile each time their eye contact lingered. She hoped her flirtations would speed the evening along.

Less than ninety minutes later they were walking into Angelo’s third-floor studio apartment. The room was tidy, with a muted color scheme and modern decor seemingly devoid of a woman’s touch. With a giggle, Nancy was upon the little cuntboy as soon as the door closed behind them, pushing it invitingly toward the bed centered against the rear wall of the room.

“Hang on a second.” it said.

Angelo stood, taking a zippo lighter from the bedside table, and lit a series of scented candles organized neatly around the room. It then hung up its coat and laid on the bed. Nancy crawled on top, her toothy smile ravenous with a hunger for what was to come.

Nancy kissed the dysphoric dyke hungrily, her hands frantically kneading across the flesh, moving downward until she felt a large silicone cock-and-balls that cuntboys like Angelo sometimes wore inside their underwear to play at being real men. She let out a little squeal of delight, pretending to believe that the thing in Angelo’s underwear was its own and not some dress-up toy ordered from an online costume shop for freaks.

She moved downward, gingerly unfastening the button of the slacks and pulling down the zipper. She stood briefly to yank the pants off with dramatic flair before playfully hopping back onto the bed, Angelo’s feet straddled between her knees.

“Wow,” Angelo said, almost breathless at Nancy’s forceful passion. It reached toward a drawer at the bedside table, “Let me get the, uhh, ya know.”

“Mmm, of course. I bet you need the magnum size.” She said, rubbing the front of Angelo’s grey boxer-briefs. She dipped her fingers into the waistband and pulled down as her face descended.

Then suddenly her expression changed. “What the fuck is this?” she demanded as she seized the realistic silicone genitals and held them accusingly above Angelo’s suddenly confused face.

Nancy threw the fake cock forcefully onto the bed and yanked the boxer-briefs down to the knees. “Oh my god! You’re a fucking girl?!?” She shouted, her lips curling in disgust at the last word.

Angelo sat up, her hands darting to her underwear to re-dress herself, Nancy responded by slapping her hard across the face. Angelo looked scared, and helpless. “You lied to me, you tranny cuntboy freak!” Nancy spat the words at her, before literally spitting in her cowering face.

“Please don’t call me that!” Her voice was cracking.

Angelo yanked her feet out from under Nancy and crawled off the bed, pulling her underpants up in the process. He wiped Nancy’s saliva from her eye and tried to compose herself. With still panicked breathing, she pointed at the door and tried to sound authoritative. “You need to leave right now.” she was actually shaking, “Get the fuck out of my house.”

While Nancy hated the ghetto-monkey dialect she had grown up hearing, she found it useful when the occasion arose that she needed to assert a sort of primal authority. Still, she couldn’t help but speak with her erudite style of slow enunciation and clearly articulated consonants, “You had best get that base out of your voice before I shove that fake cock up your bitch-ass, you tranny, cuntboy motherfucker.” Nancy took slow, menacing steps toward her as she spoke. Angelo retreated.

“That’s it, I’m calling the police!” She hurried over to the slacks that had been tossed across the room, squatting down to reach into the pocket. At that moment, Nancy threw a meticulously practiced roundhouse kick that caught the little girl-faggot just below the ear. Angelo was left slowly writhing, half-conscious on the slate tile floor.

“I told you what was going to happen, didn’t I, cuntboy?” Nancy reached down and raked her fingers through Angelo’s dark blonde hair before her fingers formed into a fist; dragging her by her hair, she forced her back onto the bed before yanking her boxer-briefs down and off in several successive, violent motions. She continued holding the tranny face-down by her scalp with one hand while she grabbed the fake cock with the other. She drove her knee into the cuntboy’s ass to spread it wide enough to expose her tight, pink asshole. When she began stuffing the soft rubber cock into her, Angelo seemed to regain her senses. She started thrashing, but Nancy overpowered her and began shoving even harder.

“No! No please! You’re hurting me!” Angelo tearfully cried out as Nancy’s french manicure scraped against her anus with each push. Nancy smiled with satisfaction as the confused boy-girl begged for the violation to stop.

After several agonizing seconds, Nancy had finally stuffed the last of Angelo’s packer up her ass. She released her victim and stood back to take in the sight of the broken bitch. “Flip over and show me your pussy.”

The little cuntboy closed her eyes tightly, as if trying to block out the world. Nancy grabbed her hair again, yanking her to her feet. She punched the girl hard in the face twice, the crystalline points of the amethyst druzy ring leaving deep wounds that would heal into permanent scars across her freckled cheeks.

“Lay down and spread your legs!” Nancy commanded. The terrified girl finally complied, blood dripping from her wounded face. The sound of whimpering providing soundtrack for the sight of the pink cunt, adorned with a neatly trimmed layer of wispy blonde fuzz.

“That’s fucking disgusting. If you don’t even know how to shave a pussy, than you don’t deserve one.” Nancy stomped over to the night-stand to grab the zippo lighter, then returned to the foot of the bed, pinning Angelo’s legs wide against the mattress with her knees. This ensured that the tranny wouldn’t be able to close her legs as she flipped open the lighter and ignited the flame. Angelo looked down in horror as Nancy brought the flame against her sensitive, pink cunt.

The bitter smell of burning hair filled the room as the boy-pussy went aflame. A panicking Angelo tried to sit up, but was met with Nancy’s strong, steely fingers clamping around her windpipe and pinning her to the bed. The pathetic twat thrashed frantically, she didn’t know whether to try to snuff the fire that was blistering the skin of her labia, or rip away the vice-like grip that was crushing her throat. In the end, she succeeded at neither.

The fire, thankfully for Angelo, went out after several seconds. The skin of her vulva was left bright red, with various round spots of white where the damaged skin was beginning to form blisters. “You know, if you just wore a skirt and shaved you cunt like a good girl, I wouldn’t have to do this for you. But you’re too fucked in the head to do that, aren’t you?”

Nancy released her throat, the tranny cuntboy had a coughing fit. Her legs were still pinned open, driven painfully wide by the pointed knees driven into the nerve-laden tissue of her inner thighs. She finally took a few gasping breaths as she realized that Nancy was still holding the burning lighter.

“I’m doing this to help you get better, you know. You’re probably going to be tempted to try to turn that little clit of yours into a full fledged dicklet sooner or later, so…” she paused for just a moment to forcefully blow out the flame of the zippo, leaving only the glow of hot-red metal where the flame had been, “let me remove the temptation.”

She drove the hot metal firmly against Angelo’s skin. She screamed as her clit turned to smoke; Nancy muffled the screaming, pressing her hand over the girl’s mouth. Even the half-silenced shriek was almost loud enough to drown out the wet, popping sound of boiling skin.

A few seconds later, she pulled the hot metal away, having left most of its heat in Angelo’s destroyed clitoris. Little bits of burnt flesh snapped off and stuck to the lighter. Upon examining the wound, she was satisfied to see a rectangular reddish-pink pit where the flesh had been, shiny-wet inside and wreathed with ragged black edges.

The toned, statuesque rapist needed to take a moment to catch her breath; they both did. She stood, closing the lighter and tossing it on the bed. She took a brief moment to stretch while she listened to the frantic screaming sobs as Angelo clutched her devastated genitalia. Nancy looked down with a smile to see the fake rubber penis peeking out of her asshole as she heaved with tears.

She had almost forgotten about that! She pinched the soft rubber tip and yanked the full mass out of the boycunt’s twitching asshole. Almost reflexively, Angelo seemed to reach out for it like a toddler who’s favorite toy was just stolen away. She watched as Nancy held the phony organ at arms length and walked over the the adjoining kitchen. There was a brief pause in the sobbing as Angelo tried to divine Nancy’s intention. A new wave of disbelieving shock came over her as she watched the piece that defined her identity dropped into the sink drain and Nancy’s finger moved swiftly toward the switch of the garbage disposal.

“NO! PLEASE!!!” She screamed like a little girl watching her teddy bear being eviscerated. Her voice was soon drowned out by the grinding sound as the only intact set of genitals she had left was turned into mangled rubbery slivers by the spinning metal blades.

“For someone who thinks they’re a boy, you sure cry like a little girl!” Nancy snapped.

The broken bitch-boy managed to whimper out “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry? Sorry for lying to me, sorry for being a fucking pervert, or are you just a sorry piece of shit?” Nancy spat the words as an accusation.

“I’m so-oo-orry! Plee-heease! Please… just leave me alone.” Angelo barely managed to articulate the plea through the tears that streamed down her bloodied and battered face.

“You want me to leave?? I thought you wanted to get laid, you pathetic little dyke. What, am I suddenly not pretty enough for you anymore?”

“Why are you doing this to meee?”

Nancy rolled her eyes, “Okay, fine. You’re little pity-party worked. I’ll fuck you, you don’t need to beg.”

Angelo looked confused as Nancy advanced. She scrambled backward on the bed, leaving crumpled piles of sheets in her wake. Nancy grabbed her ankles and dragged her down forcefully before hopping onto the bed herself; her dense, muscular form crushing little Angelo beneath it. She began kissing the girl, tasting the salty combination of blood and tears as Angelo clenched her lips and eyes tightly. Undeterred, Nancy reached down and forced two fingers into the mutilated cunt below. Angelo twitched in fresh pain as she was roughly finger-raped. Kissing her way down the cuntboy’s neck and chest, she arrived once again at the mutilated pussy. From this angle she had the leverage to properly fist-rape the little tranny.

She added two more fingers roughly inside and began pushing. Angelo twitched violently at the painful new violation. Nancy encountered resistance when her bulky druzy ring pushed against the back edge of her hole.

“You’re ring! Please take off your ring!” Angelo regained her senses just enough to make the seemingly reasonable request not to be fisted by sharp points of rock. Unfortunately, Nancy didn’t feel very reasonable at the moment.

The fingers were roughly withdrawn, but only so Nancy could take a firm jab at Angelo’s mouth, splitting her lip and shattering a few of her teeth with the pointed formations of amethyst. “Don’t you dare tell me what to do, faggot!” She jammed her hand back up the girl’s burned and blistered vagina, her ring slowly scraping its way inside of her with a series of sudden violent thrusts. Angelo began screaming again as Nancy buried her hand wrist-deep inside of her.

“If you don’t shut the fuck up, I’m going to slit your throat.”

Angelo quickly grabbed a pillow to scream into as Nancy resumed her violent assault on her cervix. She punched in and out, making sure to bruise and scrape every inner surface with the crystal shards she wore as jewelry. After a few minutes of vigorous thrusting, she heard the dyke-faggot’s voice give out. She withdrew her hand, now slick with crimson blood whose hue was deepened upon her chocolate colored skin.

She looked down at Angelo, still pouring tears and blood and snot into the pillow and asked, “Well? I need to get off, too. Come here and lick my pussy.” She lifted the front of her blood-red dress, the wet streaks on her hand leaving barely noticeable stains. Beneath was a form-fitting pair of white cotton panties.

“I said lick my pussy, Angelo.” She demanded with a sneer.

The defeated form slowly dropped down from the bed, walking on her knees over to where Nancy stood, waiting. Nancy dipped a finger down and pulled her underwear aside, revealing the firm, flawless skin of her coffee colored labia.

Angelo opened her mouth and hesitantly moved it toward the neatly formed, feminine flower. Just before her tongue made contact, Nancy shot a stream of pale-yellow piss straight down Angelo’s throat. She began to cough and turned away.

Nancy grabbed her head angrily with both hands, “Don’t you dare turn away!” She forced the tomboy’s face back into the path of her urine. “Open your eyes! Open your fucking eyes!” She pried her date’s eyes open and shot salty piss straight across the green irises. When she was finally done using Angelo’s face as a urinal, she threw her onto the cold tile floor and gave her a couple of firm kicks in the torso.

Finally satisfied, she looked down at the sad, tormented form. She listened to the small, heaving tears of the thoroughly raped woman at her feet, her ragged voice periodically went silent. It was as if she was having a conversation with some unseen entity, and responding only in the language of weary sobs.

Nancy smiled, “Thanks for buying me dinner, Angelo. I had a great time tonight.”

With that, she left.

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tickletastic · 5 years

Text

Just Like Old Times

Title: Just Like Old Times

Rating: G/SFW

Warnings: Spoilers maybe?

Word Count: 1493

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy

Ship: N/A

Summary: A giggly, drunk Five accidentally reveals that he is definitely still devastatingly ticklish, and that is information his family could definitely use to their advantage.

Notes: So TUA was so good, and I’m glad that there are fics about it now. I wrote a fic about the comic when I had my old blog, but I can’t find it, so enjoy technically my first TUA fic!

“Hello?” A confused voice rang from the other side of the call.

“Uh? Hi?” Diego replied, confused as to who was on the other end of the line.

“Hi, this is Killjoys bar, there is a…. child here? And he is very drunk, he’s informed us to call this number.”

Out of all of the people who could have been in the house at the time, of course Diego would be the one to pick up the phone for this late night call. Diego groaned, but a slightly amused smile found its way to his face. “Alright, thanks, I’ll be right there.”

On his way to the bar, Diego couldn’t help but wonder how Five got the drinks in the first place. Who would give a seemingly 13-year-old that much to drink? And on top of that, they had plenty of drinks at home, why did his brother feel the need to go out? It was odd, but nothing about the Hargreeves was normal anyway, so Diego quit paying it any mind. He pulled up to the bar and parked at the curb, walking in and looking around the dim place.

He walked right up to the bar and examined the stools, until his eyes fell on his rosy-cheeked brother, his head in his arms on the bar. Diego walked up to him and cleared his throat, but his brother didn’t perk up.

“Hey buddy, we’re gonna go home,” Diego spoke out loud. Poking his brother in the side.

“Hehey! Thahat tickles,” Five giggled out, lazily swatting at Diego’s hands. His head perked up, and Diego noticed the uncharacteristically large smile on his brother’s face. “Oh, hi Diego.”

It had completely slipped his mind how ticklish Five was because of how long he had been gone, but he kept the thought at the back of his mind. Diego couldn’t help but smile himself when he saw his brother’s giggly face, but he knew he had to get Five back to the house before anything happened.

“C’mon Five, we’re going home,” Diego told him, tugging his arm.

“I don’t wanna go!” Five slurred, trying to tug his hand away, grabbing his drink with his other hand. His words didn’t hold much weight since it seemed he still couldn’t stop giggling for no reason.

“No, no, come on kid, we’re going,” Diego said, this time using both of his hands to poke at his brother’s sides.

“Hehey dohon’t cahahall me kid!” Five squealed, trying to catch Diego’s hands but failing miserably. Five continued to try to put up his fight until Diego’s hands made their way under his arms. “OHOKAY! Stahahap!”

Five slumped off of his chair, drunkenly swaying back and forth. He tripped over his feet a few times until Diego finally got fed up and ended up carrying his brother out of the bar. Not as eloquent as Luther, instead of Luther’s method of the firefighter hold, Diego found it effective to just sling Five over his shoulder.

When they got back to the house Five instantly finds a garbage bin to puke in, still giggling every once and a while as he goes to his room to sleep.

Diego laughs to himself, before leaving to attend his night’s plans of crime fighting.

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

Three weeks later Diego finds himself in the house with Five, Klaus and Luther.

Today was a rare day, because Five happened to be in a rather playful mood, something that had been rarely witnessed since his return. When he awoke, he decided to wake Luther up with a rather chilly surprise of a cold water bath- in his bed. Klaus hadn’t gotten it much better, as he had been sprayed with a water gun filled with a mix of vinegar, raw egg, and dish soap. Diego was weary, because he knew that his brother would mess with him sooner or later.

Diego was polishing his knives when Five had appeared behind him, poking his sides and shaking him. The knife fell to the ground with a clatter, and the handle separated from the blade as Diego covered his sides with his hands.

When turned around, Five had teleported to the other side of the room in order to avoid the wrath of Diego. He laughed a little, and looked at the knife on the ground, Diego was nowhere near as entertained.

“That was one of my favourite knives you little shit!” Diego exclaimed, picking up the pieces of the knife and placing it on the counter.

Five shrugged, a smirk on his face, “Well it doesn’t seem like it was too sturdy.”

“You’re going to get it,” Diego threatened, Malice in his eyes.

“First you’re gonna have to catch me.”

With that, Five was off, teleporting up the stairs and around various places in the house.

“You can run all you want Five! I’m going to catch you eventually. Even if I don’t catch you today I will eventually!” Just was Diego screamed out to his brother, he heard a loud thump.

“I got him Diego,” Luther’s voice called, as his footsteps were heard coming down the stairs. He was holding Five above the ground by his wrists, while Five squirmed like a worm on a hook.

“Thank you Luther, I recently discovered that our dear brother is still just as ticklish as he used to be, do you care to help me teach him a lesson?” Diego inquired, basking in the look of panic that took over Five’s face.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no!” Five yelled, struggling against Luther even more.

“Why thank you Diego, I would love to,” Luther grinned, feeling good about getting to be playful with his brothers for a change, instead of constantly broody.

“I definitely wasn’t eavesdropping, but could I help dear brothers?” Klaus asked, walking into the room.

“Sure, we could use the help,” Diego confirmed.

Luther put Five down on the ground, pinning his arms above his head. Five is still flopping all over in an attempt to escape the oncoming torture from his brothers.

“Ready Five?” Diego teased, looking down at his brother. Klaus, Luther, and Diego’s fingers were each posed above Five’s body.

“Wait! Wait, wait, wait!” Five screamed, shaking his head.

“Alright, what are we waiting for?” Diego questioned, lowering his hands.

“You don’t have to do this, alright? I won’t do ihit agahahain. Hehehehey!” Five giggled, as one of Klaus’ fingers traced small shaped along his hipbones.

“Sorry buddy, couldn’t hear you,” Klaus spoke, adding the rest of his fingers into the mix. Luther and Diego took that as their cue too, and they started to let their fingers go to work.

“Dohohohohon’t!” Five giggled, kicking out his legs.

Diego’s fingers were clawing across his ribs, while Klaus was drilling into his hips and Luther was letting his dull fingernails trace Five’s collarbones.

“Aww, is wittle baby Five a little ticklish?” Klaus taunted, his fingers moving down to his brother’s thighs.

“YEHEHES YEHEHES! JUHUHUST STAHAP!” Five screeched, moving his body as far as he could from all of the torturous fingers.

Diego, Luther and Klaus couldn’t help but smile down at their brother. It was rare that their family would have any times that weren’t completely serious or angry. This felt that a breath of fresh air.

Diego started laughing at the site, his fingers running over Five’s tummy. “How are you still this ticklish Kid? It just doesn’t make sense. Shouldn’t you have grown out of it by now?” Diego teased, swirling his finger into his brother’s belly button.

“Shuhuhut uhuhup! I’ll kihihihill you!” Five threatened, his words holding no weight.

“You know,” Luther began, looking at the faces of his brothers, “When he’s laughing like this and not being completely grim, he’s kind of adorable.”

Five’s face got even redder than it was before, and he shouted out more threats towards his ‘evil’, ‘sadistic’ brothers.

As much as they were enjoying torturing their brother, Diego figured it was almost time to stop. “I think it might be time to go in for the kill.”

Everybody stopped, Luther placed his unmoving hands on Five’s upper ribs, Diego placed his hands on Five’s knees, and Klaus’ found their way to the sensitive toes of their brother.

“Any last words?” Luther asked, a smug look on his face.

“You’re all traitoHOHORS! DOHOHOHON’T! PLEHEHEASE!” Five squealed, his eyes went wide and suddenly shut tight, as he continued to attempt to struggle.

“IHIHIHIHIHIM SOHOHORRY! PLEHEHEASE!” The smile on Five’s face was wide and contagious, as well as his giggly, boyish laughter. His face was tomato red and tears of mirth streamed down his cheeks.

His brothers didn’t let up until a few minutes later, their fingers easing to a stop, Luther letting Five’s hands out.

Five curled up into a bawl, giggling maddly, the wide grin still on his face.

“Ihihi-I hahate you guys.” He exclaimed, holding his knees to his chest.

“We love you too, Five.”

#the umbrella academy #ticklish!five #diego hargreeves #number five #five hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #luther hargreeves #TUA #tickle fic #tickle community #tickle fiction

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djarin-skywalkers · 5 years

Text

Title: A New Life

Rating: General

Word Count: 5,702

Characters: Anakin Skywalker, Padme Amidala, Luke and Leia Skywalker

Summary: In a universe where Anakin never turned to the Dark Side, he and Padme enjoy a little domestic bliss. Little glimpses into the lives of the Skywalkers. An AU past Revenge of the Sith.

Notes: You don’t have to read the other parts for it to make sense but it would help for some context.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

The doors hissed open and the first thing Anakin noticed was the unsettling silence and emptiness of the room. He froze in the doorway, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the room.

What was usually a room filled with life and energy was now strangely empty.

“Padmè?” He called as he took a few steps into the room. The continuing silence unnerved him further. There was not even a trace of C-3PO who was always loitering around the apartment and never failed to greet him when he returned home.

His tension rose as he continued cautiously into the room.

His attention was quickly drawn to the rustling of the curtains. His heart leapt into his throat and his hand reached to his hip for a weapon that was no longer there.

He bawled his fists instead and his eyes narrowed as he slowly approached the window, ready for a fight if need be.

There was no sign of a break in at the window. His eyes scanned the room once more and his gaze settled on one of the doors open just a crack.

There were a few horrifying seconds where his mind pieced together what might have happened.

Then there was another rustle of the curtains and he quickly glanced between the door and the curtain.

He was filled with an overwhelming relief and knew at once precisely what, or who, was hiding behind it.

His body relaxed, fists unclenching and a smirk tugged at his lips.

He leaned in toward the window to examine it once more and then folded his arms over his chest. “Hm...I suppose there's no one home.”

He received the intended result: a tiny little giggle from behind the curtain.

There was one final rustle of the curtains and then with a loud battle cry, a dark haired bundle of energy barreled out of the curtains and latched herself to his leg. “Gotcha!”

He let out a playful yelp and stumbled on his feet and his daughter burst into giggles.

He grinned down at her. “You sure did, little Le.”

She grinned triumphantly, her arms still wrapped tight around his leg.

His eyes narrowed playfully and he outstretched his arms toward her. “And now.. I'm going to get you!”

She squealed as he leaned down, prying her off his leg and swooping her up in his arms.

“Daddeeeeee.” She squealed as he squished her to his chest and she wriggled incessantly in his grip. Finally she stopped wiggling with a sigh and just fell limp in his arms, lolling her head back to look at him.

“Hi Daddy.”

He smiled and kissed her nose. “Hello Leia.”

The smile he loved so much lit up her face. “Did I scare you?”

She had no idea how much she really had. His grin grew a little at the vague memory of those first few months of freedom at the Jedi temple. Oh he had taken his Jedi training seriously, after all it was a promise to his mother, but for the first time he was free to be a kid and he often played little, mostly harmless, pranks on Obi-Wan. His daughter had clearly inherited that rebellious streak, which often times gave him more headaches than smiles but in this case, it was definitely a smile.

“Yes,” he muffled a laugh at the memory, “Yes, you did.”

She giggled again in delight and then leaned in and wrapped her arms tight around his neck. “I missed you, Daddy.”

He tightened his hold on her and kissed the top of her head, his heart swelling. He never knew he could love someone so much as he loved Leia and Luke.

He thought he had found the purest of loves in Padmè, and indeed he loved his wife more than the galaxy itself, but the love for his children was a brand new feeling he'd never tire of.

They relied on him, cherished him. They expected nothing of him except to be their father, to love on them, and care for them, which he was more than willing to do.

They threw tantrums, and at times could be very defiant and wear his patience very thin. A majority of the time, however, when they invited him to play with them, or curled up in his lap or beside him in bed to take a nap, when they just wanted a hug, or whenever he could make them laugh and their faces lit with joy, it made his entire world.

He would protect them until his last breath and couldn't imagine his life without them. The very thought of it was chilling.

His nightmare hadn't returned but he spoke with Obi-Wan to satiate Padmè's (and his own) concern.

Obi-wan gave him the same answer that Padmè had - that his fears were for naught because Palpatine was dead and reminded him that they had burned his body - but promised all the same that he would keep it in mind.

There were almost times he wished he were still a Jedi, if only for the access it gave him to the greatest intelligence center in the galaxy.

He'd learned a lesson in patience and humility by having to go through and rely on Obi-wan for information.

He knew he wouldn't trade a moment of his life with his family to go back to that life.

“I missed you more, Leia.”

His jobs gave him a brief respite from constantly dealing with demanding three year olds but without fail by the end of the trip, whether it was hours or days, he was more than glad to be home and have his children in his arms again.

“Leia, what are you doing?” He asked in amusement as his daughter began to climb up his shoulder.

She was half hanging over his shoulder, Anakin's hand tight on the back of her dress, when she gave up with a sigh. “Daddy, can I please go on your back?”

He laughed quietly. “Oh that's what you want, is it?”

“Yes, Daddy, pleaseeee.” She began to wiggle against his shoulder and he grunted as her hip dug into his shoulder.

“Well because you asked so nicely…”

He secured her in his grip and then leaned forward until she fell back into his arms.

He gave her a quick grin and she grinned back. Then he swung her around to perch on his back and she squealed, the noise pulling Padmè out of another room.

“Anakin?”

He made sure Leia’s arms were wrapped tightly around his neck before he turned around to face his wife.

Padmè's face lit up in smile. “I didn't even hear you come in.”

He flashed her a smile. “You must have been busy. This little monster certainly heard me.” He lightly pinched Leia’s thigh and she squeaked and giggled, kicking her legs.

“Not a monster, Daddy.”

“No? Then what are you?”

“I am a girl and...I will kick a monster’s butt.”

Anakin laughed heartily. She certainly was his daughter alright. “I know you will, Leia.”

“I'm up to my ears in work.” Padmè sighed and shook her head but smiled as she approached her family.

“And you, little girl,” she gave Leia a playfully stern look, “were supposed to be napping.”

Leia pursed her lips and rested her chin on her father's shoulder. “Daddy's home!”

Padmè's face softened and briefly met Anakin's eyes. “I see that,” they shared a smile, both glad that he was. Padmè then looked back to her daughter, “and you wanted to say hello, didnt you?”

Leia nodded and tightened her grip on his neck.

“Well,” Padmè smiled sweetly, “that's alright then. I want to say hello to Daddy too.”

Anakin's smile widened and then he closed the distance between him and Padmè to give her a quick kiss in greeting. Anything more was impossible with a toddler hanging on his back.

Leia gasped quietly and Anakin grunted as she dug her nails into his neck and tried to climb forward in order to reach his face. “I did not give a kiss to Daddy!”

“Le, honey not so tight...here,” Anakin trapped his cheek and Leia smiled and pressed a sloppy kiss there.

“Thank you, Le.”

“Welcome!” She beamed and then settled back down against his back.

“How was the run?” Padmè asked, recapturing Anakin's attention.

“Oh it was very successful...a smooth trip.”

Padmè narrowed her eyes and hummed skeptically.

“Really?”

Sometimes he hated how she could see right through him

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Well for me.”

Padmè sighed in exasperation. “Ani, what did you do?”

“I can't help it if some other ship gets in my way.”

Her eyes widened in faint alarm and he raised his hand in assurance. “They're fine! Their ship on the other hand...they just might have to call for a ride is all.”

“Anakin,” she sighed again, “you have to behave yourself. That can't be good for business.”

“On the contrary it's extremely good for business, the people that hire me know their precious cargo is in good hands. The best hands in fact. No pirates are getting ahold of what I have.”

“No pirates.” Leia lifted her head with a small growl and a serious furrow of her brow.

“Right, Leia. No pirates.” He nodded seriously. “It's my job to protect the freight.”

“Until you take down the wrong ship.” Padmè said pointedly.

“That won't happen, I know what I'm doing.” He said dismissively.

Padmè shook her head slowly. “Leia, tell your Daddy he's silly.”

Leia giggled and lifted her head. “Daddy, you're silly.”

He pursed his lips and gave her a sideways sour look and Leia buried her face in his shoulder, stifling a laugh. “Turning my daughter against me. Nice.” He sighed and looked back at his wife. “Padmè, there's nothing to worry about, I take my job very seriously. Besides, protecting cargo means I can't fight. I won't engage unless there's need to. It's just….flying freighters are boring most days so I can't pass up a little... fun when it comes my way.”

“Fun…” She echoed dubiously and crossed her arms lightly. “I thought you have plenty of fun. Fun, for example, is hanging off of your neck.”

Anakin carefully craned his head to the side, grinning at the side of his daughter’s face. She leaned forward to catch his eye and they exchanged a look of mischief and amusement so nearly identical there would be no question of their relation.

He suddenly swung her around again so she was now cradled in his arms and before she could protest, began to tickle her belly.

She let out a loud squeal of laughter and wriggled in his arms.

“Fun, huh? We have lots of fun, don't we Leia?” He grinned down at her as he continued to mercilessly tickle her sides.

“Nooooo!” She squealed in between peels of laughter.

“Leelee?” A sleepy voice cut through the noise of laughter and Anakin paused his tickling to glance towards the children’s bedroom where Luke was standing in the doorway, rubbing his eyes with one hand and clutching onto his blanket with the other.

“Hi baby.” Padmè greeted sweetly with a smile. “Look who's home.”

Luke blinked, registering his father's presence and then a smile split across his face.

“Daddy!”

He dropped his blanket and ran at his father.

Anakin, being the very skilled father of twins that he was, very quickly perched Leia onto his right hip and then opened his other arm to Luke.

He grunted at the weight of two toddlers as he lifted Luke onto his other hip.

Luke threw his arm around his shoulder and grabbed onto his shirt with the other.

Anakin smiled down at him. “Did you miss me, Luke?”

Luke nodded vigorously and then rested his head on Anakin's shoulder.

Anakin dropped a kiss first to his son's head, “I missed you too,” and then his daughters, “I missed you both very much.”

“Why did you go a long time, Daddy?” asked Luke in a small, curious voice.

His smile slowly fell. He hated leaving them most of all because of how much they missed him. They had Padmè of course and he knew they loved their mother but he had been their primary caregiver for three years.

The first time leaving them had been the worst, for himself and for them. He warned them the night before and left early in the morning before they woke up, thinking it would be easier for them.

He was barely off the planet before he sensed their dismay. He was half tempted to turn around and go back, he'd had three years to become almost mentally synched with his children’s emotions and it was excruciating to sense their pain. Padmè called him magic because he could often sense a tantrum before it happened. He was just extremely in tune to their emotions, could sense their pain and their joy.

While it did sometimes help to stop a tantrum in its tracks, it did absolutely nothing to help his own anxiety. He should have been used to being separated from his family. He left his mother behind for ten years, he constantly left Padmè during the war but he hadn't had a full day away from their children since they were born.

The part of him that was excited to get back into a ship with Artoo at his side fought hard against the part of him that didn't want to leave his children.

Thankfully the nervous tension eased the further he got from Coruscant and he was able to fully enjoy his first trip away.

That trip, and most trips, were only a day or two at most. He insisted upon it at first so he wouldn’t have to be be away for too long. This particular trip had him away for almost two weeks.

“Well, you remember my job don't you, Luke?”

Luke lifted his head and nodded. “You're a pilot!”

“I am,” he nodded, “and sometimes people need me to fly to places that are a little far away.”

“Why?” A favorite question recently for the both of them and Anakin loved their curiosity and loved even more being able to teach them more about the universe.

“Do you remember the holo I showed you of the galaxy and how many planets there are?” Both the twins nodded. They loved looking at the holo and asking him about each one he'd been to.

“Some planets are very far away and they need some help sometimes. So it is my job to go and help them.”

“Isn't that nice of Daddy to do?” Padmè asked them. “He brings food, water and supplies to people who don't have a lot of it.”

“You do?” Luke asked, eyes widening in wonder.

“I do.”

“Daddy.” Leia pulled back to look at him with full admiration “You are a very nice Daddy.”

Anakin laughed. “Well thank you, Leia. I'm so glad I have your approval.” He looked back to Luke. “So do you understand why I have to be away sometimes?”

“Uh-huh.” Luke nodded. “You help people.”

“Yes and I know it feels like I'm away for a long time but I promise I will always come back to you because you know what?”

“What?”

He leaned his head in until he pressed his forehead gently to his son’s and met his eyes. “Being with you is my absolute favorite place to be.”

“Really?” Luke smiled.

He lifted his head and nodded. “In the whole wide galaxy.” He promised.

“Me too?” Leia piped in and Anakin looked at her with a smile.

“Of course, you too. Both of you and your Mama.” He looked up to meet Padme’s eyes and when she smiled he gave her a quick wink.

Leia rested her head against his shoulder and he briefly rested his cheek against her hair.

“So,” he looked between them both, “what did you two do while I was away? I know that Mama must have done many fun things with you.”

“Ummm….” Leia lifted her head and looked up thoughtfully.

“Where did we go yesterday Leia?” Padmè prompted her.

She gasped excitedly as she remembered.“We went to Mama’s work and I got to sit at her desk!”

“You did? Oh I bet the senate loved that.” Anakin shot his wife a knowing smirk.

“They weren't thrilled but I had to go in and I had no one to watch them for the day and they were on their best behavior, weren't you?”

The twins both nodded. “We were very good,” Leia said, “and Mama said I could be like her when I'm grown! I'm gonna be a sennytour.”

Anakin smiled fondly at her. “I have no doubt of it, Senator Skywalker. The best senator there ever will be!”

Leia nodded her head once, matter of factly but then furrowed her little brow seriously and told him, “But not better than Mama.”

“You're right...Mama is a very good Senator but you know what? I think you could be just as good.”

“And so do I.” Padmè agreed with a smile, coming up to place a loving hand on Leia’s back. “I told her that the Senate would be very lucky to have a girl like Leia.”

Leia beamed proudly.

“And Luke too, if he wanted to but he was a little bored, weren’t you?” Padmè asked her son.

Luke shook his head. “Not bored!” He exclaimed and turned exuberantly to his father. “Daddy, did you know there are lots of ships that fly outside Mama's window?”

“Are there?”

“Yeah, so many! Even more than at our window!”

“He couldn't keep his eyes off of them...like father, like son.” Padmè commented quietly and Anakin gave her a brief loving smile before turning his attention back to Luke.

“One day you might be able to fly one. Would you like that?”

Luke’s eyes widened and he started bouncing excitedly. “Yeah! Fly like you!”

“Well hopefully not exactly like you.”

Luke frowned in confusion. “Daddy is the best pilot in the whole galaxy!”

Anakin felt a swell of pride at his son coming to his defense and raised his brow at Padmè, waiting for her response.

“Yes, darling, he is a very good pilot but he also is a crazy one.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I have fun.” Anakin told Luke quietly with a smirk and Luke grinned back at him.

“It means he gets into trouble.” Padmè countered quickly, giving him a look.

“Oh…” Luke looked at his mother and furrowed his brow thoughtfully and then nodded in resolve. “Well I'm gonna be a good pilot like Daddy but not get in trouble. I don’t like being in trouble.”

Padmè smiled and gently rubbed his leg. “That's my good little man.”

“Spoil sport.” Anakin muttered and Padmè shot him a look, to which he morphed into a grin.

His carefree smile was so captivating, even after three years, she couldn't help but smile back. She would never grow tired of watching the man her husband had become free of the pressures of the Jedi.

The twenty five year old father was more reminiscent of the nineteen year old she married, before the Clone Wars, before the nightmares, before Palpatine.

He had matured, mostly, but Anakin's recklessness was something that would never change. Though he was admittedly more careful knowing their children waited for him at home.

Leia suddenly started to wriggle against his arm, her face pulled in all different directions and she let out soft little grunts.

“Are you alright, Le?” Anakin asked, smirking in amusement.

Leia sighed. “Daddy your arm is hurting my butt.”

Padmè stifled a laugh behind her hand and Anakin raised a brow.

“Your butt is hurting my arm.” He countered.

“No, your arm is metal, Daddy it can't hurt.”

He chuckled low in his throat and smirked at her. “Well you are a smart girl, aren't you?”

Leia beamed proudly and he laughed again, kissing her forehead. “Alright down you go, Miss Skywalker.”

He knelt down to release them both and once they were on their feet, they looked up at him and he placed a hand on each of their backs and smiled.

“Now, go play.”

The twins grinned at each other and then ran off together full of giggles.

Anakin watched them go and then straightened up with a low groan. He was still in great shape but holding two three year olds for more than a few minutes took its toll on his body.

He then turned to Padmè and she met his eyes with a smile. Without another word they rushed toward one another.

As their bodies softly collided, Padmè wound her arms around his neck and his arms wrapped tightly around her waist.

“I've missed you.” She sighed against his ear, tangling her fingers in his hair.

He closed his eyes and kissed the side of her head. “I've missed you too.” He held onto her for another lingering moment and then pulled back to look down at her.

“It's lonely on those trips.”

“Even with Artoo?” She asked, her lips pulling up in a small smile.

“Artoo is great company but he can't entertain me the same way you can.”

Padmè raised her brow and her smile grew as she started playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “I don't think you would want that kind of entertainment while you're flying.”

He returned a smirk of his own and leaned in until their lips were barely separated. “I'm a man of many talents.”

“Well I know for a fact that would not be good for business.” She added breathlessly.

A low laugh rumbled in his chest. “Perhaps you're right about that. That's alright, it just gives me something else to look forward to when coming home.”

He emphasized his words by pulling her hips to his.

Her arms tightened around his neck and wordlessly closed the remaining distance between them.

He kissed her deeply, making up for the days they were apart with passion. She sighed against his mouth and practically melted into his arms.

They almost became lost in one another if not for the the delightful screeches of their children pulling them back to reality.

Breaking the kiss, they both turned in their direction and smiled as they watched Luke and Leia running around with toy ships Anakin had made for them.

“Where is Threepio?” Anakin wondered as he scanned the room and noticed the droid was still peculiarly absent.

“Oh, the children were asleep so I had him run a few errands for me. He should be back soon.”

“Errands, huh...only one of his favorite things.” He looked back down at her with a smile.

She lightly shrugged. “He was happy to, at least he seemed to be with the lack of both you and Artoo.”

Anakin raised a brow. “Threepio? Are you sure you’ve got the right droid? He complains about a lot.”

“Hm...yes...and I wonder where he learned that.”

“Hey!”

She laughed and drew in closer to him. She lifted her hand to smooth away the frown lines on his face which did soften at her touch.

“Threepio is a wonderful help while you are away and he definitely learned that from his creator.”

His lips twitched in a smirk and his grip tightened on her waist. “I can only take so much credit...he was just a bunch of old parts I put together. He spent an awful lot of time with you and you are wonderful influence. I would know…” He trailed off as he began to lean in towards her and she smiled as she leaned in towards him.

He sensed the danger before he knew what it was; there was the sudden flicker of fear in Padmè’s eyes as her vision flickered past his shoulders and then a loud bang behind them.

“Anakin!” Padmè shouted in the same second he spun around, flinging his arms out in the direction of his children.

They clung to each other on the floor, quivering and whimpering, their tiny hands thrown out towards the bookcase that was now suspended in air midway toward toppling to the ground.

A few books and various objects slipped from the shelves, clattering to the ground around them but the heavy shelves had been stopped from falling on them.

Anakin's brow pressed together in concentration and Padmè rushed around him, running to gather her children in her arms.

The bookshelf quivered and Anakin concentrated on getting it upright again as Padmè carried the crying twins to the couch.

“It's alright, you're okay.” Padmè soothed them, pressing each child's head to her chest, running her hand over their hair, pressing kisses to their heads.

Anakin narrowed his eyes and released his hold on the bookshelf once it was once completely upright.

He scowled thoughtfully at the bookshelf and then walked over to his family.

Padmè glanced up at him, eyes wet with unwashed tears but filled with relief.

He forced a small smile to his lips and took the seat to her right.

Luke lifted his head as soon as his father sat down. “Daddy…” he whimpered and rolled over to reach for him.

Anakin gathered him into his arms and Luke clutched to him, burying himself against his chest. “Everything alright, Lukey boy?”

He whimpered again, eyes red rimmed and tears rolled down his cheeks, his body still quivering.

He held up his hand which seemed a little red from it's impact with the bookshelf but otherwise unharmed.

Anakin gently cradled Luke's hand in his own and gave him a gentle smile. “What this? That's all?”

He kissed the palm of his son’s hand. “There….you're okay, son.” Luke sniffled but gave a watery smile in return.

As Luke settled back against his chest, his smile faded as his mind replayed the event that just happened.

He felt the small disturbance in the Force, had turned around, noticed the bookshelf, and reacted accordingly. However, while his use of the force did stop the bookcase from falling, there was also something else acting upon it.

His mind flickered to the image of his children, their hands outstretched, a reflex to protect themselves from the danger threatening them.

The truth hit him hard and fast. His children had used the Force.

He held Luke a little tighter, resting his chin gently atop his son's head, rubbing his back as he slowly calmed.

As the fear and adrenaline of the situation faded, and the twins recovered from their tiny shock, they started to grow a little restless in their arms.

“Are you okay, Leia?” Padmè asked, giving her daughter another thorough check for any visible injuries.

Leia nodded, sniffling quietly. “Yes, Mama.”

Padmè smiled softly and used her thumb to brush away the remaining tear tracks on Leia’s cheeks.

“Good.” She then pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Can I go play again?” Leia asked and Luke lifted his head, looking over to his mother, also eager to hear the answer.

“Yes you can but no more running, okay?”

Leia nodded. “‘kay.” She looked over at her brother and they shared only a look, their faces melting into smiles and they climbed off their parents’ laps.

Anakin leaned forward, resting his elbows on his legs, his brow furrowed.

“Is something wrong Anakin?” Padmè whispered, voice laced with worry as they watched their children run back off to their play area. “They're alright. You saved them.”

Anakin sighed. “They are unharmed, yes, but Padmè…”

Anakin glanced meaningfully towards the children who were already full of smiles and had poured out a box of blocks between them.

“They used the Force.”

Padmè's eyes widened and glanced between him and the children. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” He turned back to her. “I was not the only one acting on that bookcase. They reacted only to save themselves and I doubt they could have supported it without my help but it was their initial reaction that kept it from toppling immediately. When you took them away, I felt it release and I knew...they had a grip on it too.”

Padmè sat in silence for a moment, observing the children playing and her brow slowly pressed down. “But they're so young…”

Anakin inhaled and crossed his arms lightly. “It's not unheard of...the Sith themselves even discovered force sensitive children not much older than Luke and Leia and given my high midichlorian count, I knew they would also be force sensitive. I was keeping an eye out for it but I still didn't think…” he sighed again as he rested back.

Padmè frowned thoughtfully. “Should we contact Obi-Wan?”

Anakin's face twitched and he scoffed quietly. “We don't need Obi-Wan.”

“Anakin, he's our friend.” She laid her hand gently on his arm.

“Yes but I am their father.” He said almost harshly and at Padmè's look, his face softened and he gave her an apologetic look.

The thought of handing his children over to the Jedi was not an option. He regarded Obi-Wan as a friend and took to heart his mentorship but refused to allow the same teachings for his children. “We don't need to involve the Jedi in this. I can handle it.”

“Okay.” She said softly and gently squeezed his arm. “I trust you, Ani, but what do we do? They are just barely three years old, they're not going to understand the power they have.”

“It's a part of who they are, Padmè, we can't suppress it.”

She slid her hand up his arm, sensing his growing agitation. He was tense but calmed at her touch.

“I don't want to suppress them but I want them to be safe. They are so young, Ani, they won't understand what they can do, or how to use it…”

“I can teach them. They're smart, Leia was practically running before she could walk and Luke not far behind her.”

“I know you can and I know how smart and clever they are but they're still just babies. You were nine when the Jedi found you.”

“I had no idea what I was capable of until I stated training under Obi-Wan. We don't know the full extent of their abilities yet and I don't think they even know what they did. I don’t think we have anything to worry about just yet but we can test their midichlorian count and go from there. I didn't think a test would be necessary until they were older but clearly to have it manifest so early it must be high.”

A smile slowly pulled at his lips as the full weight of the situation seemed to finally sink in.

“Our children are special, Padmè.”

His children were becoming more and more like him, possessed the same gifts he had, and now he had the chance to train them how he wanted. There were no rules of the Jedi to stop him.

Padmè also smiled but hers was more hesitant. “Of course they are.”

“They will need to be trained. Not yet,” he assured her as her eyes widened, “They're still young and they seemed to only call to the force out of instinct. One day, though, they will realize what they can do and they'll need to know how to use their abilities safely. I'll keep an eye on them because once they do realize what they can do they'll start experimenting. I haven't used the force much since I left the Order, I really haven't had the need, but maybe I should start to.”

He pressed his lips together thoughtfully and slowly rose to his feet. He took a few steps forward, turned his hand behind him and almost immediately a book flew into his open hand.

He tightly grasped it and turned around to present it to Padmè with a small grin. “If they see me using it, it won't be strange to them, and they'll be excited instead of afraid when they start to notice they can use it too.”

“Ani,” She slowly stood and walked over to meet him, “I agree with you and I think that is a brilliant idea but please... don't show off.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Show off?”

She gave him a knowing but loving look. “Anakin, you are the biggest show off I have ever known and it worked for me, sometimes, but we do not need our small children trying to show off for you.”

“Simple and easy…” he turned a smirk down to the book which was now levitating just slightly above his hand. He kept it suspended for a few seconds and then slowly lowered it back to his palm. “No harm done.”

“Thank you.” She let out a small breath of relief and smiled. “When they're old enough I'm sure you'll have more than enough time to all show off together once they know what they're doing.”

“Yes.” He looked up and over to where they sat, helping each other build a building out of blocks. Luke handed Leia a small piece to carefully lay on the top. Her little tongue slipped out of her mouth as she balanced on her knees trying to carefully place the block on top of the ever growing pile. Upon the successful placement, she plopped back down with a pleased grin and reached around to hand Luke the next piece.

“It's not that time yet.”

She saddled up to his side and wrapped one arm around his back while the other rested over his heart. She rested her head on his shoulder. “Yes, let them remain our babies for a little while longer.”

Part of him couldn't wait until they were older, to see who they would grow into, so he could do train with them but his chest also tightened a little at the thought.

The last three years had already passed so quickly, the day they were born seemed as if it was just yesterday. Yet there he stood already contemplating their training.

They were granted the carefree childhood he had never had and he was not about to take any of that time away from them.

#anidala #anakin x padme #fanfiction #star wars #sw fanfiction #sw au #mine #the skywalkers

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coyotescribbles · 6 years

Text

It’s more of That Thing, sorry not sorry =w=

Serafina was tired. So of course the orderly was being pedantic and their bags were nowhere to be found and nothing was going right...

"What do you mean, our bags aren't here? They came on board the same time we did...!"

"Ma'am, if you'll just hold on a moment-"

"No, I will not hold on a moment! That's my - that's my baby's stuff! How could you lose-"

"Ma'am, please-"

"Mama! Mama look! A lion!"

"Hold on - not now, baby...!"

Serafina stopped short as soon as the words left her mouth, realizing that the cheery little voice hadn't come from the carseat just behind her, but rather from somewhere off to her left. Her heart leapt into her throat as she turned sharply, and she didn't have time to stop herself from choking out "Jesus Christ!" at the sight of her little Nalah nestled into the arm of a giant of a Sangheili.

Suddenly, a careless orderly was the least of her worries as she abandoned her carry-on bag and the carseat and rushed to meet him halfway.

"Oh - oh my god, Nalah-!" She could barely get the words out. "Oh god, I am - I am so sorry, I didn't even notice - I am so, so sorry...!"

"It's quite all right," he chuckled softly in surprisingly clear English, as he gently transferred her giggling daughter into her arms; "she was no trouble at all."

That may have been true, but it didn't stop Serafina from shaking like a leaf and clutching the little girl tightly to her side. "I - I - I'm still... God I'm sorry... This - it won't happen again..."

"Please, relax," he laid one hand gently against her upper back and steered her back towards the shade of the canopies; "she caused no trouble, and was in no danger. All is well."

"Right - right..." she took a deep breath to steady her frayed nerves as she placed her daughter back in her carseat, but it was all she could do to stay on her feet when all she wanted to do was sit down and burst into tears. The Sangheili must have noticed her distress, because he seemed reluctant to leave, though clearly he had better things to do than... babysit.

"All is well, is it not?" His voice dropped to a soft rumble as he lowered his head closer to hers, a concerned look in his yellow eyes.

Serafina couldn't help it; she tried to swallow the growing lump in her throat, but the tears overflowed anyway, and suddenly every frustration from the past few hours came pouring out in one long, barely-coherent, blubbering mess. And when she finally ran out of words, she just sat down on the dusty pavement next to Nalah and buried her face in her hands.

"I can't - I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she sobbed, scrubbing at her face with the heel of one hand; "I - I'm just..."

"Very tired, I understand." There was a faint rustle as he crouched down beside her. "You've come a long way on your own, and it has not been easy, but it will be all right. Will someone be coming for you?"

She could only shake her head - mentally, though, she was berating herself. To come all this way, with nobody to help her and nothing to her name but a few hastily-packed bags that were mostly Nalah's things and that were now missing, and now here she was, bawling her eyes out in public, in front of some Sangheili whose name she didn't even know...!

There was a long stretch of silence, broken only by another soft little rustle - Serafina looked up and nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw another pair of bright golden eyes peering down at her from the big male's impressively-large headdress. It took her a moment to register that... that was a very tiny Sangheili, hiding in the dense ruff of rusty-red fur. She almost laughed, but it came out more strangled than anything.

The elder Sangheili regarded her thoughtfully for another moment, then slowly rose up, and extended a hand to her. She blinked in confusion, but... hesitantly, placed her shaking hand in his, and let him pull her carefully to her feet.

"Come, I cannot leave a young mother in such untenable straits. Even if I thought it wise to do so," his voice took on a gentle humor, "my wife would have my hide, if I tried."

"Oh-" Serafina balked suddenly, "I - I can't - I couldn't impose like that - I -"

"Nonsense," he interrupted soothingly, "'Amaasai Keep would not have extended its welcome to refugees if we had no room for them. You will not be the only human there, nor will young Nalah be the only child, as you've surely noticed by now."

She felt - she didn't know how she felt, beyond the fact that her mouth felt bone-dry. "Are - are you sure...?" she asked, though she was already fumbling with her carry-on and the carseat - which he extracted from her shaking hands with what was quickly becoming a characteristic gentleness. Nalah, who'd been quiet the whole time, let out a delighted squeal as she kicked her feet; her laugh was echoed by the Sangheili child, and that coaxed a watery smile from Serafina.

"My dear," the elder rumbled with a smile of his own, "I insist."

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septic-heart-and-mind · 7 years

Text

“Sam” - Jack and Wiishu Mini-Fic

I don’t know what gave me this idea but I think it’s super cute! ^-^ Hope you like it! :D

Jack and Signe’s little boy, Sam, was now four years old. Just like his father, Sam was a happy bundle of energy; he would run around and play excitedly, like he would never get tired. It was now a sunny day, and the three of them were out for a walk together. Little Sam was running ahead, giggling as he sped along.

“Slow down, sweetheart!” Signe called out to him, wanting him to be careful. He appeared to take no notice as he carried on at the same speed. “You’re gonna end up hurting yourself,” she continued concernedly. He did slow down for a while, but he starting running again when he saw some ducks up ahead.

“Ducks, ducks!” he shouted enthusiastically.

“Sam, don’t run so fast,” Jack called.

“I wanna see the duuuucks!” Sam replied excitedly. His little feet continued to hurry forwards - until he slipped. He crashed to the gravel and started to cry. Jack and Signe rushed to his side.

“I told you not to go so fast,” Jack said to him as he knelt down. “Where does it hurt?” he asked caringly.

“My knee!” Sam sobbed. Jack drew back Sam’s trouser leg to have a look and saw some blood from where Sam had caught his knee on a stone. “It hurts, Daddy!” Sam cried.

“Aw, it’s alright, little man,” Jack comforted him. Signe took off her backpack and began rummaging through it.

“I think I have some plasters,” she announced as she searched. Moments later, she took out a little box - exactly what she was looking for. She took one out and knelt down at Sam’s side. “Let’s make it all better,” she reassured Sam. He sobbed a little more as she put the plaster on.

“Ow!” he whined in pain. She finished putting on the plaster, and then kissed his little knee.

“There, all better now,” Signe said gently.

“Will you be more careful now?” Jack asked Sam.

“Yes,” he cried in reply.

“Good boy,” Jack smiled. Once they stood back up, Sam reached his arms up to his father. “C’mere you,” he said as he lifted Sam into his arms. The little boy rested his head on Jack’s shoulder, his hands clinging to him. “It’s alright,” Jack soothed him as they walked again, putting his hand gently upon Sam’s head. “I got you.” Jack kissed his head, and Sam began to calm down. “I know what will cheer you up,” he stated with a smile, before doing an impressions of Sam’s favourite cartoon characters. The boy began to giggle.

“I know, do your Mark impression!” Signe suggested, “He loves that.”

“Alright,” Jack chuckled, following it with his imitation of Mark’s laugh. Sam’s giggles were louder and brighter this time; he had certainly cheered up! When they were close to the ducks, Jack decided to put Sam down. “Be careful now,” he advised as he lowered his son to the ground. Sam walked calmly to see the ducks, even making sure that he wasn’t too close to the water.

“I wanna go in!” Sam chirped.

“You can’t go in the water,” Jack responded apologetically.

“Whyyy?” Sam whined.

“Because you can’t swim yet, sweetie,” Signe explained.

“But I wanna be a duuuuck!” he cried.

“You wanna be a duck?” Jack asked.

“Yeah,” he bawled.

“You can be a duck,” Jack said, “Ducks walk too!”

“They do?” Sam checked excitedly.

“Yeah!” Jack replied.

“What sound does a duck make, Sam?” Signe asked him.

“Quack! Quack!” he answered joyfully, bouncing. He giddily continued to repeat the word as they continued walking, sometimes giggling again.

“See? You’re a duck!” Signe said to him brightly.

“Quack! Quack!” he continued. “I want bread!” This addition amused Jack and Signe. They had some bread with them, in case Sam decided he wanted to feed the ducks.

“Are you a nice duck?” Jack asked. Sam nodded. “And how do nice ducks ask for bread?” he added.

“Can I have bread, pleeeeease?” Sam politely requested.

“Yes,” Jack answered with a smile.

“Nice ducks can have bread,” Signe agreed as she got some out for him. “Here you go,” she said as she handed a piece to him. “What do you say?”

“Thank you!” Sam replied. After having a couple of bites of bread, he then thew some towards the water at the ducks. Sam did this until there was only one little bit left; he decided to eat it instead, but it didn’t quite go down right. Sam stopped walking. Jack and Signe immediately turned to see if Sam was alright, and very quickly realised that something was wrong. It wasn’t long before they could tell that he was choking. Jack went down to his level and began to slap his back to try and help dislodge the obstruction.

“It’s alright, honey,” Signe reassured Sam, although her voice slightly wobbled with worry as Sam still couldn’t breathe. It seemed futile at first, but soon Sam began to cough and the piece of bread shot out of his mouth. He immediately began to cry. “Don’t cry, sweetheart, it’s okay now,” Signe comforted him, but Sam wept loudly.

“It’s all better now,” Jack reassured him, rubbing his back gently. “You’re alright.”

“Come here, darling,” Signe said as she took the little boy into her arms. She stood up and held him close, rocking him slightly. “Shhh, it’s alright. Mummy’s here.” She shushed him as they continued to walk slowly, but the poor child didn’t stop crying. It wasn’t long before her phone rang, and she wanted to answer it in case it was important - but she didn’t want to abandon Sam the way he was. She turned to Jack helplessly.

“I’ll take him,” Jack offered. “C’mere,” he said as Signe carefully handed him to Jack. Sam still cried as he held onto him. “Alright, little guy. Alright,” Jack soothed him softly, stroking Sam’s head. “Shhhh.” It was as though nothing would calm him. “You’re alright,” he continued to comfort him, gently rubbing his back. “I know it was scary,” he sympathised, “But you’re alright.” Sam quietened a little. Jack began to softly and slowly hum the tune of ‘All The Way’ to him, gently rocking side to side. Sam’s crying eased gradually, his tight grip on Jack loosening. He eventually fell quiet. Jack looked and saw that the boy had fallen asleep with his head on his shoulder. He smiled and placed a loving kiss on the child’s head. Signe was soon finished on the phone, and she smiled too when she saw Sam sleeping peacefully in Jack’s arms. Jack and Signe kissed each other, before continuing to walk and make their way back home. By the time they got there, he was awake and energetic again. When they arrived, he ran into the house. Jack locked the door and he and Signe entered the living room. He was about to question where Sam was, but then they could hear Sam’s feet pattering around. Jack chuckled, before going out to the kitchen to find him. But before he got there, they heard a loud thud followed by Sam wailing. The two of them dashed to him, and found him on the floor by the kitchen counter.

“What you done to yourself now, you poor boy?” Jack asked as he went down to his son’s level. Sam just howled. “Where does it hurt?” he prompted him gently.

“There!” Sam sobbed, his hand on his head. Jack gently moved his hand and saw a little bump on Sam’s head.

“You’ve really been in the wars today, haven’t you, eh?” Jack said to him fondly.

“It hurts, Daddy!” he wept.

“Aww, I know,” Jack replied with sympathy. “We should put some ice on it,” he added to Signe.

“Yeah,” she concurred, before leaving to get some for Sam. She got a little ice pack and wrapped it up, took it to the kitchen, and placed it on the boy’s head.

“Owww!” he cried, pushing it away.

“I know it hurts but it will make it better,” Signe explained.

“Nooo!” Sam whined agitatedly, trying to dodge her hand as she tried to put the ice back on him. Jack gently held him still and Signe carefully reapplied the ice pack. Sam cried louder in complaint.

“You need it to feel better,” Jack reminded him gently.

“I don’t wan’ it!” Sam bawled.

“I know,” Jack understood, “But it’ll stop soon.”

“I don’t wan’ iiiiit!” he cried again, slightly kicking his legs. But the longer the ice was on his head, the quieter and stiller he became as he grew used to it. Eventually he was like a statue, and only quiet little tears fell down his face. After a while, once it had been long enough, Signe took the ice away.

“Good boy,” she praised him.

“You’ve been brave, haven’t you?” Jack concurred proudly.”And do you know what brave boys get?” Sam shook his head. Jack picked him up, and opened one of the kitchen cupboards. He took out a tin and removed the lid.

“Cookieeeee!” Sam squealed. He took one of the cookies happily. “I got a cookie!” he said with excitement.

“That’s because you’re a brave boy,” Signe responded cheerfully.

“You’re our little soldier,” Jack smiled, “Our septic soldier.” Cookie still in hand, little Sam threw his arms around Jack, who snuggled him affectionately.”Give Daddy a kiss,” he said lovingly to him. Sam happily gave a kiss to Jack, before nuzzling into him again. “And you,” he added, smiling at Signe. She went closer to him and they shared a tender kiss. Jack put his arm around her and she cuddled him; the three of them were huddled up together with love radiating through them. The bad things that had happened that day didn’t seem to matter to them anymore, because they had each other.

Having a four year old nephew definitely helped me write this :)

#jacksepticeye #wiishu #septiishu #septiceye sam #just another mini fic for you guys #i did a thing #i hope you like it #i think it's cute

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lets-get-sirius-about-stars · 7 years

Text

Little Talks (A Makayla Fray story)

Anon: “an imagine with one of your DC oc plz X'D with a humen friend with no power just a Cinnamon rolls begin cute and stuff just make me happy . ♦=♦”

Schninner: AHHHH!!!! PEOPLE LIKE MY OC AND IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY!!!! I’m gonna do some Makayla Fray back in the day before the whole Prale kidnapping and she was still a little one, I’ll also be introducing a new character! So I hope you like it anon! :D

(OO! PS, there is going to be quite a few time lapses in this story, just to help keep it moving along, so whenever you see those wonderful long lines that separate paragraphs, keep in mid that some time has passed)

(P.S.S. HOLY CRAP! THIS TOOK FOREVER TO MAKE! The inspiration fairy has been avoiding me lately, and for that I apologize, but I’m gonna kick it into overdrive tomorrow and ATTEMPT to finish the remaining requests, wish me luck!0

OC(s):

Makayla Fray/Little Leaguer/Red Comet

Lucile Tylers

Warning: None…..????

Word Count: 2426

Tagging @maruthor @preppygothica @the-singing-canary @cuddles-for-cassie @royslittleharper

Master List (DC blog) Master list (OC Blog)

Like this story? Then you should check out my OC blog @lets-get-sirius-about-stars

Day 1

Lucile Tylers didn’t belong to a rich family, or a poor one either for that matter. Her parents made a decent amount of money, enough to pay the bills, feed four hungry children, and pay the bills with a small treat here and there for their lovely children. Lucile had a good life with a wonderful family, but of course, being the youngest of four, she didn’t often think that was so. Being at the young age of 4, she often didn’t get much say in what family events they went to. An event that he simply detested, was their daily walk to the park.

Her parents had insisted on these walks, informing the children that it was “a healthy habit and helped strengthen relationship with fellow family members.” Which left Lucile grudgingly walk to to overly crowded park in the spring, fall, and summer seasons. Most children would love to visit the park, but of course, Lucile wasn’t most children. While her other siblings ran around the play set, squealing like mad men, she had always tottered over to her favorite tree, plopped down, and began drawing with the Crayola crayons and notebook she continuously brought with her.

The daily visits to the parks went by identical to the last, the arrival, the tree, the drawing, then departure. Every day the same, that is, until, she met the her.

The day started off like all the rest, with the arrival, tree, and art. Lucile had opened her box of crayons, contemplating what color cat she would draw today, and that’s when she heard foot steps near her, stopping directly in front. Lucile reluctantly looked up from her sketch book, expecting to see one of her tanned siblings, instead finding a pale peach skinned girl. She had slightly curly dirty blonde hair pulled up in pigtails with a sturdy build and pale green eyes.

“What’cha doin?” The girl asked, cocking her head to the side in curiosity.

“I’m coloring a picture.” Lucile stated matter of factly before returning her attention back to the pretty purple she had chosen for her cat.

The girl remained where she was standing, silence fell upon the children, save for the frequent squeals from the children playing on the equipment nearby.

“Can I watch?” The girl inquired.

Lucile glanced up from her picture briefly, “Sure, I guess, if you want.”

The girl smiled happily, bounding up next to her and sitting down, her green eyes intensely studying the picture. Lucile continued drawing, trying not to let the blonde’s gaze mess up her artistic flow.

All was silent between the children, that is, until the green-eyed girl let out a happy gasp, “Oh! I get it! You making a purple kitty cat!”

Lucile smiled proudly, nodding.

“That’s so cool! I love purple, ‘cause blue and wed make it, and those two are my favoritest colors.” The girl paused, thinking before continuing, “What’s your favorite color?”

Lucile paused, pondering this question, “I like the rainbow.” She stated as if it were obvious.

The blonde scrunched up her nose, “You can’t choose all the colors, that’s cheating!”

Lucile shook her head, “No it’s not, it just means I love all the colors equally!”

The girl contemplated this for a bit, but then shrugged, “Okay, I guess that makes sense.”

“Vincent, Cody, Lila, Lucile! Time to go!” Mrs. Tylers called.

Lucile’s head perked up, the corners of her mouth turning downward into a frown, “I have to go.” She said sadly to her new friend.

The girl frowned as well, “Aww man! That stinks!” She says, getting to her feet and helping Lucile up.

“I’m Makayla by the way!” She told Lucile, once she was standing.

“Lucile!” She happily replied.

“Well, maybe we can play again soon…?” Makayla questioned, while walking with her new friend toward the rest of the Tylers.

Lucile nodded, “We come here every day! So maybe I will see you again!”

Makayla beamed, bobbing her head up and down enthusiastically, “Yeah!”

Off in the distance, Lucile heard a male’s voice call out Makayla’s name. “Oops! Gotts go too! See ya later Lucile!” She quickly said before darting off in the other direction.

Lucile smiled, watching as the blonde pigtails bobbed up and down until she could see them no more.

Day 7

Lucile sat there, her head resting on her knees and letting her silky black hair fall over her caramel colored shoulders, salty tears covered her face and nose running uncontrollably. She couldn’t believe them; how could they do this to her! Did they hate her?

“Hey Lucile! What color cat are you drawing…” Makayla trailed off upon seeing the tears on her friend’s face. She ran up to her, not asking any questions, and hugged her.

“Th-th-they broke a-all m-m-m-my crayons!” She bawled, hugging her right back, her head buried into the blonde’s shoulder.

“Who did? Your brothers?” Makayla inquired, patting her friend comfortingly.

Lucile let out a strangled “uh huh” and continued sobbing.

Makayla’s small face screwed up into a scowl, “well, they are butt heads.” She stated angrily.

The dark-haired girl simply nodded, not being able to voice her anger towards Cody and Vincent, but Makayla didn’t seem to mind, she stayed with her, letting her cry onto her shoulder until it was time for her to leave.

Day 8

Lucile leaned up against her tree, her arms folded bitterly across her chest as she watched her siblings play. She was so engrossed in imagining her brother Vincent getting chased by an angry pack of her purple cats, that she didn’t notice Makayla excitedly bounding over to her with her hands behind her back.

“Hey Lucile! I got something for you!” She chirped, a broad smile ingrained on her face.

“What is it?” She asked, her attention now fully on the girl in front of her.

“Tada!” Makayla sang, thrusting her hands out in front of her, revealing a box of 62 Crayola crayons and a notebook.

Lucile’s brown eyes widened and her draw dropped, “No way!” She gleefully shouted, taking the box from her friend and opening to find 62 fresh crayons. A giggle bubbled up in Lucile’s throat and resounded throughout the park, she through her arms around Makayla, pulling her into a tight hug.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” she squealed.

Makayla’s smile widened as she returned the embrace. “Your welcome!”

And from that point, Lucile knew that they would be best friends to the end.

Year 1

“I have a secret that I need to tell you,” Makayla stated, her face dead serious, “and I need you to promise not to tell anyone, got it?”

Lucile nodded, sitting up a bit straighter on her bed, and holding her pillow close to her chest. It was their very first sleep over at Lucile’s house, they had been giggling about cartoons and talking about Wonder Woman, when out of nowhere, Makayla had grown quiet and serious.

“And I mean no one! That means you can’t tell your mom or dad, or else Danny and I could be in big trouble!” Her voice growing slightly nervous as she continued talking.

“I promise!” Lucile responded

“Do you pinky swear?” Makayla held her pinky out to her, where Lucile swiftly locked her pinky with created an unbreakable promise.

Makayla sighed in relief, relieving Lucile’s pinky and immediately went to her left pigtail. Her fingers nervously playing with the blonde strands.

“Well, you see, it’s about my mommy…”

Year 2

A week had gone by, one whole school week in which Makayla had been gone, and Lucile had started getting worried. Not only had Makayla not been at school, but she also hadn’t been answering her home phone. She had mentioned it to her parents, but they gave the simple explanation that maybe she was sick and would be back soon, and sure enough, the following Monday Makayla had returned.

Lucile was overjoyed to see her friend, she rushed over to her, her arms opened wide for a hug, but she faltered. Makayla’s green eyes, usually filled with so much life and joy, seemed so empty and lifeless.

“What’s wrong Kay?” Lucile’s voice filled with concern.

“Danny, he-he got hurt really bad last night.” She nearly whispered, trying desperately not to let her voice break.

Lucile gasped “Oh no! Kay! Is he going to be okay?”

Makayla shook her head, ears falling silently down her face, “No, Lui, Danny, he went away. He went to heaven.” Her voice quivered, her bottom lip trembling.

Lucile looked at her friend in shock, processing what she was told,

“What should I do? What do I do!?”

Lucile did the first thing her brain told her, and instinctively reached out, and hugged her friend tight.

Makayla wept into her friend’s shirt for the remainder of recess, and continued doing so even when their class mates were lining up to go inside. Their teachers eventually had to pull her off, and brought both to the principal’s office for “disrupting the class.”

Normally, Lucile would have been screaming and hollering the injustice of this, begging the teachers for forgiveness, but she wasn’t sorry for what she did. In fact, she never would be through pout the rest of her life.

Year 7

“You’re definitely coming to my birthday party though, right Lui?” Makayla asked her friend, as she swiftly fastened her shin guards.

Lucile nodded enthusiastically, watching as her friend scrambled to get the rest of her accessories on. “Of course I’m coming Kay! What kind of person would I be if I didn’t go to my best friend’s eleventh birthday party!”

“Late birthday party,” Makayla reminded her, sliding her arm guards on, “I’ve been eleven for a week now.”

“False!” Lucile playfully shouted. “You do not turn eleven until the birthday festivities have begun! So says the party master”

Makayla rolled her eyes and laughed, “okay ‘party master,’ whatever you say.”

Makayla’s pale green eyes darted around the room, “now, where’s my… There it is!” she shouted triumphantly, snatching her mask from her nightstand. She places the black domino mask over her eyes and began tying up her hair.

“Hey, and I’m sorry again for having to bail on you like this, the League sent me a message telling me that… whatever it is… is urgent.”

Lucile pushed her glasses up and gave her an understanding smile, “It’s fine Kay, I get it! Just go off and do your hero thing and we’ll talk about your party later.”

Makayla smiled and hugged her friend, “You’re the best human being ever, you know that Lui?”

“I know,” She said, hugging her back then pushing her away, “but you gotta go! You’re already running late!”

“Right! Little leaguer, Makayla, replied, opening her window wide, she flew through it yelling, “talk to you soon!” over her shoulder and disappearing into the sky.

But that was a lie.

Later on, that night, when Lucile had finally arrived home, she found the unusual sight of her family crowded in front of the TV. Curious, Lucile made her way over to the TV then let out a horrified gasp. In front of her she saw Little Leaguer, Makayla Fray, her best friend getting pummeled to a pulp by the intergalactic bounty hunter Lobo with the Justice league nowhere in sight.

She didn’t remember much, just the blue, yellow, and red blur of her friend as Lobo picked her up with one hand, throwing her into the nearest building. The camera zoomed into the fallen hero, badly bruised, and covered head to toe with cuts. There were screams from inside the building as the pillars began to crumble, the building beginning to capsize on itself. Little Leaguer got to her feet, and stared at the crumbling building in terror for a brief second before flying into the fray.

Lucile heard the camera man talking, “Where’d she go?”

“OH LEAGUER!” boomed Lobo’s voice, the camera man swore, swiveling the camera to the bounty hunter, zooming in on his face. He stuck his nose in the air and gave a few sniffs before his mouth twisted into a horrifying smile. “Found you.”

In the blink of an eye, Lobo had crashed through the building.

Two minutes later, swarms of civilians ran from the building, screaming in terror.

Three minutes of silence.

Then a blinding light and deafening “BOOM” resounded throughout the house as the live feed was abruptly cut.

“Tony? Tony are you there?!” The newscaster’s voice frantic, the view had returned to the studio, where Iris West was wide eyed with shock.

“It seems, it seems that our feed has been lost.” She choked on her words, “we don’t know for sure how many survivors, but as soon as we know, you’ll know…”

But Lucile was hardly listening, she numbly walked away from the rest of her family, letting the tears that she had building up pore down her cheeks.

She was gone.

Seven years later

It had been years since the incident, seven to be exact, but no matter how much time had passed, Lucile always broke down on this day, the day when her best friend, one that was practically her sister, had died. Died trying to save the lives of so many people.

After Makayla had died, Lucile had made it her job to take care of her friend’s headstone, bringing a fresh bouquet of sunflowers every month.

Lucile bent down to one knee, removing the withered flowers from the previous month, and laying fresh ones down. A sad smile played at her lips, she suppressed tears as she began to speak.

“Hey Kay, I got you some new flowers, red ones this month, one of your favorite colors, remember?”

“I do.” Came a strangely familiar voice from behind.

Lucile jumped, whipping around to find a girl, no, a woman, who looked about eighteen years old, same as her. Her eyes a crimson red, hair a dirty blonde with red tips and a faint, but clearly visible scar on the left side of her mouth and color bone.

Lucile cautiously stepped forward, “Kay…?”

“Hey Lui, it’s been awh-“

Lucile didn’t give her time to finish, as soon as she had confirmation, she had rushed to her friend, pulling her into a bone crushing hug, sobbing tears of joy.

“It’s you! You’re here!” She sniffled, her tears soaking into the brown leather jacket.

“Yes, It’s me, I’m here” Makayla replied, crying as well, “I’m here, and I’m never going anywhere again.”

#makayla fray #red comet #little leaguer #my oc #requested #lucile tylers #my writing

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the--walking--daryl · 7 years

Text

The Painful Wait. PART 2 (DarylxReader)

Hey guys, here’s part two of The Painful Wait! Let me know what you think, I’ll be posting Part three when I’m finished ✌🏼 Summary: Y/N and Daryl have been close ever since the group took her in when they found her on a supply run. Daryl is extremely overprotective and when the group is attacked by a herd of walkers one night, Daryl gets on her last nerve when he locks her in a cell and refuses to let her help. They get into a huge fight and both of them say some hurtful things. Daryl goes out on a supply run by himself to clear his head, but takes longer than he said he’d be. Days go by and Y/N is a wreck. She can’t stop thinking about their fight and what could’ve been her possible last words to the man she trusts the most.

 (Set in the hiatus between seasons three and four )

Warnings: strong language, walker killings, mostly fluff and angst again. ———————————————————

It’s been forty-eight hours since Daryl’s been gone. I’ve been one the edge of my seat, nervously biting my nails and sweating in anticipation. Rick’s been letting me keep watch in the tower, so I’m the first to see him. I wanted to stay up there for longer on the first night, but Carol insisted that I get some sleep. I can’t help but blame myself. He’d still be here if I hadn’t screamed at him, I drove him away. He could be dead and the last thing I ever said to the man I love was: “Go to hell, asshole.” Beth’s been staying in my cell with me to keep me company, as I don’t sleep, and when I do, my nightmares wake me up. They’ve been different, these last couple of nights. They haven’t been about the drowning, but rather being alone in the forest, unable to escape Walkers. I keep screaming out for Daryl when I wake up, resulting in everyone else waking up. Last night, I didn’t even sleep after I woke up, because I went to keep Rick company in the tower just so I could know if he came back. But still nothing.

I stare at the bottom of the top bunk, anxiously waiting for my next shift in the tower when Beth returns from getting water.

“How you feelin’?” Beth asks.

“Take a wild guess. I just wish that I never said anything. Or that he hadn’t locked me in here in the first place.” I sigh.

“I’ve been meaning to ask… what was he doing in here?” I can’t see her, but I can tell she’s smirking her ass off.

“You really want to know?” I laugh, sitting up.

“God yes.” She eagerly replies, sitting next to me.

“Well, I grabbed a book from the library and headed back here. My shoulders were killing me and Daryl saw that I was uncomfortable and came in and gave me a back rub.” I shrug.

“Oh.” Beth’s excited posture falls in disappointment.

“Then we kissed.” I smirk.

Beth’s head whips towards me with joy, a wide, excited grin smeared across her face.

“What!?” She shrieks gleefully.

I laugh at her enthusiasm, which is actually the first sign of positivity I’ve shown in days.

“You have to tell me everything!” She cries in delight.

“Okay, so he started off by rubbing my shoulders and then he was kissing my neck,” invite my lip at the very thought of his touch. “He told me that he couldn’t stop thinking about me and that I was all he wanted. I could’ve died there and then.” I borderline squeal.

“And then?” Beth encourages.

“And you know… clothes flew off, I’m on his lap and…”

“And!?” At this point, Beth is so deliriously thrilled, I can see a vein about to pop in her forehead.

“And then Carl was shoutin’ about Walkers.” I sigh.

Beth groans and falls back, letting out a long, audible, outraged sigh.

And as if by chance, Carl walks past and throws a concerned scowl our way.

“What’s up?” He asks.

“You’re a fucking cockblock, that’s what’s up!” Beth yells.

Carl quite wisely decides to just walk away instead of asking any questions.

“Subtle.” I remark, earning a giggle from Beth.

“Anyone else know?”

“Nah, just you. And Daryl, but I don’t even know if he’s… if he’s de-”

“Don’t talk like that. He’s gonna be just fine. He’s gonna come back and you two are gonna get this sorted. Then, hopefully, you can screw. Preferably without everyone being attacked.” She jokes.

She’s right. He’ll be fine. He’s strong and smart… the man can fight through anything. I have faith in him, I really do, it’s just that he wasn’t in a good mindset when he left… he even said himself, he needed to clear his head. I just want him back. I don’t want those to be my last words to him. Not him. Never him. It’s not even just Walkers that I’m worried about. The governor is still out there. I just can’t stop thinking about the endless possibilities of what could’ve happened to Daryl. My Daryl.

The next day, Rick asks my to join him on fence cleaning as a ‘stress relief’. I oblige, because well, what the fuck else am I supposed to do? Forty minutes into killing intruding Walkers in complete silence, I begin to wonder which on of the two of us is going to bring up the elephant in the room. Rick and Daryl have the closest brotherly bond I’ve ever seen and it would break my heart to see Rick without his brother. I’m not the only on who holds Daryl in their heart, the whole damn family does. Especially Rick.

“We gonna talk about this or what?” Rick pipes up, stabbing Michonne’s sword into the ground and turning to face me.

“Talk about what? Ain’t nothin’ to talk about.” I lie, continuing to impale Walkers through the skull.

“Y/N, don’t be like that. We’re all worried. You don’t have to put on a brave face all of a sudden… you don’t think I’ve heard you cryin’ at night?” Rick says softly.

I stab one more Biter and throw my pole to the ground in frustration.

“What do you want me to say, Rick? Y-you want me to say that I can’t live without him? Because I can’t! You want me to say that I won’t give up on him until my last breath? Because I won’t! You want me to say that I’m so pathetically and tragically in love with him, that I’d rather die than go another day wondering ‘what if’? Because I am! That what you want me to say, Rick!?” I rant.

“You’re in love with him?”

Shit.

“I didn’t say that.”

Fuck.

“Yes you did… you said you’re in love with Daryl!” The excitement behind Rick’s eyes mirrors Beth’s.

“Why do people get so shocked about that, I don’t understand.” I throw my arms up in exasperation.

“Jesus Christ! Well that’s one down, one to go, right?” He chuckles.

“Excuse me?” My eyebrows knit together in confusion.

“Do you know how long we’ve all been waiting for you to admit this. You two aren’t exactly ones for subtlety, are ya now?” Rick laughs.

I stand stunned for a moment, honestly not knowing what to do with myself.

“I want to go after him. Now, tonight, tomorrow, I don’t care. We need him. You need him. I need him.” I plead.

Rick sighs and rubs his temples in exhaustion, because he’s clearly been considering it too. I walk towards him and take his wrists in my hands, only to discover that he’s shaking.

“Let’s go, Rick…” I whimper.

“We can’t… it’s too dangerous and I don’t want to leave Carl and Judith. Please understand. I have to stay with my kids. And I ain’t letting you go anywhere either. You’re family.” Rick sobs and embraces me tightly.

We collapse to the ground, still entangled and bawl for what feels like hours, until we hear screaming and shouting.

“Y/N! Dad! Hurry!” Carl hollers.

Rick and I scramble to our feet, racing over to the prison to grab our guns and knives as we see more Walkers have broken through while we were crying. More than all of us.

“Beth! Go take care of Judith! Maggie, Glenn, I want you in the towers, Carol, you and Carl take the entrance. Michonne, Y/N, let’s go kick some Walker ass.” Rick barks.

Michonne, Rick and I charge forward, shooting, stabbing and slashing every Walker in sight. Obviously, we have some pent up issues. I dart over to the fence and shoot anything that looks anything close to decomposing, but it soon all becomes too crowded. I manage to fend them off, but I fall backwards and one falls on top of me, biting and snapping at me relentlessly.

“Help! Rick! Michonne!” I scream, while desperately trying to push it off of me.

It’s teeth come within centimetres of my skin, until its efforts come to a sudden halt. I look at it’s skull, and to my delight, there’s an arrow embedded in the brain. I shove it off of my body and scramble backwards and onto my feet, spinning around to see the one thing I’ve been craving to lay my eyes on for these past few eternal days.

Daryl.

“Oh my God…” I whisper in disbelief.

He’s covered in scrapes and scars from head to toe, dirt in every crease of his clothes and skin and bruises around his eyes and on his arms.

“Daryl?” I cry out.

He rushes towards me, dropping his beloved crossbow to stop it from weighing him down. I mirror him, dropping my gun and sprinting in his direction. We collide, thrilled tears cascading down my cheeks as I grip onto his shoulders while his strong arms embrace my waist and lift me off of the ground.

“I thought I lost you.” I sob.

“You couldn’t lose me if you tried, Darlin’.” He chuckles breathlessly.

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