#traced over a base for her body but drew everything else myself

[sir-sillybunny]

my fluttershy design :0

#havent drawn in forever lol #traced over a base for her body but drew everything else myself #ill probably infodump about my version of the mane 6 and my ver of equestria soon #mlp #my little pony #fluttershy #flutters #mane 6 redesign #fluttershy fanart #fluttershy redesign

[ethanharli]

Requested: On Tumblr; May I ask for a Giyuu x male!Reader smut? Perhaps the reader being a little rough with Giyuu please?

Pairing(s): Giyuu Tomioka x Top Male Reader.

Warning(s): NSFW/SMUT, Bottom Tomioka, Energetic reader, Choking, Slight dirty talk and degradation, Hair pulling, ✨ Aftercare. ✨

DNI; if you use she/her pronouns.

A/n- I'm such a slut for this man smh

___________

I couldn't help but smile brightly when I saw Tomioka a little ways away from me, we were assigned a mission a couple of days ago to a quiet town in the east, where a demon has been taking young drunks and since I got here a day or so before him I made sure to look around and get familiar with the area. So I gently tapped my index and middle fingers together as we approached each other, seeing the slightest of smiles tug at his lips once he saw me, "[Y/n], you burned Wisteria incense?" He asked, now looking up at me with his usual stoic expression and all I could do is let out a small 'Mm-hm!' With a quick nod and a wide grin, not being able to speak much due to my damaged vocal cords. So taking a step closer I leaned down besides his ear not noticing the sudden stillness of his body as I spoke, "Should give us a bit more time to search around" My now deep and raspy voice wasn't something I had gotten used to yet, and it didn't help that I couldn't speak any louder then a whisper. However I did catch the small hitch in his breath, causing me to frown a bit as I pulled away and looked at him, his face was flushed and his lips were slightly parted, his gaze was fixated on the ground and I could finally see just how still he was standing.

It was only when I pressed the back of my hand to his forehead that he finally looked back up at me with slightly widened eyes. "You're warm, maybe you're sick?" My throat slowly started to itch again and I had to resist the urge to scratch at the scar along my throat. It was quiet concerning though, Tomioka has been getting warm like this a lot recently, I've tried to ask others about it to but they would just give me a knowing smile and tell me everything's alright, but that didn't stop me from worrying. I'm pretty sure it started around the time I was at the butterfly estate since Shinobu was helping me with my throat and damaged vocal cords. "Maybe you should sit this one out, I don't want you getting hurt" The worry in my tone was clear, but Tomioka simply took my hand in his and leaned up to place a gentle kiss on my cheek before pulling away, "I'm fine [Y/n], now let's go look around."

Stubborn bastard.

I couldn't help but sigh and follow after him, not wanting him to get lost since he's only just arrived. So while it was still light out I showed him all the important places where the demon might be hiding or might target next, taking an occasional look around at all the Wisteria incense I put out to see how much longer we had left and finally talking with some of the residence here, which luckily didn't end to badly since Tomioka had to do most of the talking. Nevertheless we eventually came up with a plan, "So we're going to tail a drunk?" I asked, looking at Tomioka with a slightly disapproving glare, not really wanting to use a towns-person as bait and I could tell that Tomioka new what I was thinking when he rested his hand on my shoulder, looking up at me with those beautiful dark blue eyes that practically own me at this point. "I won't let them get hurt, I promise" Even though he sounded confident I still held my doubts, but with a heavy sigh I traced the back my fingers along his jawline, pulling him in for a sweet but gentle kiss, "You're lucky I love you cause if it were anyone else I'd probably strangle them for even suggesting this idea."

I could practically feel the way my heart fluttered at his sudden chuckle, the sound of it so foreign since he rarely ever shows emotions, and I couldn't help but pull him back for another quick kiss, before heading off to my station, "Stay safe." It was the only thing I could hope for as I stood at the back of the bar, I was thankful that there was only one due to it being a small town but that didn't make the situation any less dangerous. The incense finally wore off as the stars danced across the midnight sky, while I sat myself down on the roof, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious or even just someone leaving and so far everything seemed alright, until a shadow flickered from the corner of my eye.

In one swift movement I drew my blade and slashed it at the demon who managed to jump out of the way just in time, now standing from my seated position I narrowed my eyes at the ugly bastard, "So you're the one that's been eating all these people?" I asked calmly, trying to raise my voice a little higher so I could be heard, and I couldn't help but raise a brow in confusion from the way she suddenly swayed, a deep blush now coating her grayish complexion. "It's a pity your a Demon slayer, with a voice like that I'd love to have you in my bed" I couldn't help but feel slightly uncomfortable about her suggestive tone and lustful gaze, but something in the back of my mind nagged at me. So trying to brush it off I rushed at her, dodging any hit she sent my way while she managed to dodge my attacks as well, "Sorry lady but I already got a lover, and I don't plan on letting you live tonight." Her smirk only seemed to grow at my words, as I closed in on her, hoping she wouldn't notice the way I was backing her into a corner, "Then they must be real slut for you hm? Wanting nothing more than to get off to deep voice of yours-"

Blood splattered onto my cheek and clothes as I cut off her head, "Demon or not, no one talks about my lover that way" I sneered slowly feeling my anger subside as I watched her burn away. Though I couldn't deny the fact that her words got me thinking, and eventually led me to connecting the dots about Tomioka's recent actions. So when the male appeared beside me with worried eyes I couldn't help but smile and nod my head before sheathing my blade, I also convinced him to stay the night with me since we've been away from one another for so long, and maybe for the fact that I wanted to figure something out.

-----

I didn't bother to dry my hair as I walked into our shared room, spotting Tomioka sitting on his futon with a book in hand, gently flipping through the pages as I made my way over to him, "[Y/n]?" Ignoring the call of my name I happily moved myself between his legs while pushing him onto his back so that I could rest my head on his abdomen. "It's been so long.. Since we've last seen each other" I mumbled softly, wrapping my arm around his waist so that I could hold him closer against me, while my other hand slipped under his robe and gently traced small circles along his skin, smiling when I heard a sigh of content slip past his lips. However I couldn't help but trail my hand up higher as I lifted myself onto my knees, looking down into Tomioka's slightly widened eyes with a small smirk tugging at my lips.

"And it's been even longer.. Since I heard those pretty moans of yours" I could feel the way his body shivered under my fingertips and it only caused my smirk to grow as I attached my lips to the base of his neck, dragging my teeth and tongue along his pale skin, not wanting to leave a single place untouched while my hands opened up his robe. Gently tracing my fingers along his toned abdomen and pushing my thumbs against his hardened nipples, as I bit into his shoulder, drinking in the way he moaned my name with a choked gasp. "[Y-Y/n].." The way my name rolled off his tongue nearly caused me to growl as I captured his lips with my own, dragging my tongue along his lower lip before I took it between my teeth, giving it a soft tug. While my hands traveled down to his pants, slowly pressing my fingers under the band as I pushed my tongue past his parted lips, slowly losing myself to the taste of him as he pressed his hips against my own.

"Now now baby, there's no need to rush" I whispered against his lips as I slipped off his pants, noticing the fact he wasn't wearing any undergarments and the way his cock slowly started to leak pre-cum. "Already? I barley even touched you" The teasing tone of my voice forced a whimper past his throat as I wrapped my fingers around his cock, pressing my thumb against the slit and smearing his pre-cum around it before licking it off my fingers. "[Y-Y/n] please" I couldn't help but drag my tongue along my upper lip before leaning down to kiss along his jawline, threading my fingers through his soft black hair. Tightening my grip I yanked his head back, "Ah-!" His sudden moan caused my heart to thump and my core to tighten, reminding me of the uncomfortable erection in my pants while starring into those beautiful dark blue eyes of his.

"Now be a good boy and suck" I growled, pressing my fingers to his slightly parted lips as he wrapped his hands around my wrist and wrapped his tongue around my middle finger, skillfully coating my fingers in his saliva and I couldn't help but press the pad of my finger against the back of his tongue, hearing him gag a bit as he stuck out his tongue and looked up at me with a hazy gaze. "Absolutely stunning" I breathed out, instantly moving my hand so I could capture his lips with my own, feeling our noses slightly bump against each others as I took his lower lip between my teeth and trailed my hand down to his entrance, carefully circling my finger around the rim. "Are you ready?" I asked, looking into his eyes for a brief moment, waiting for his consent, "Yes- Please hurry.." He whimpered out as I nodded, slowly pushing my finger in so I wouldn't hurt him.

His soft moans and gasps caused a slow heat to rise to my face as I pushed in another finger, moving them in a scissoring motion to make sure he's stretched out enough to ensure I wouldn't hurt him, "Hah! F-Fuck, [Y/n] pl-please just fuck me!" I couldn't deny his pleading tone and immediately went to pull off my clothes, throwing them off into some other part of the room as Tomioka wrapped his legs around my hips, causing my cock to rub against his entrance. A low whimper slipped past his lips while I hooked one hand behind his knee, pushing his leg towards his chest as I positioned myself at his entrance, looking into his eyes for a brief moment before slowly pushing it. "Ngh- Hah!" The sound of his moans and the way his walls quickly tightened around me caused a low gutteral goan to rip past my throat, and I couldn't help but bring my hand up to wrap around his throat, as I've done many times before, watching as his pale skin turned a deeper shade of red as he wrapped his hands around my wrist.

"Damn, such a slut for me aren't you?" I smirked, fully pushing myself into him as I dug my fingers into the sides of his neck, making sure not to press against his throat as I began to rock my hips, searching for that one spot that always had him trembling beneath me, "Hah- Ah, [Y/n]!" Ah, there it is. Loosening my grip on his neck I pounded into him, aiming for his prostate as his moans and whimpers echoed throughout the room, my name rolling off his tongue like a prayer, causing my core tighten from the sound and the addicting way his walls tightened around me with each thrust. "Fuck.. You feel so good baby" I practically growled out the words through panted breaths, leaning down to press sloppy open mouth kisses along his shoulder as he desperately tightened his grip on my hips, "I'm, I'm going to-" His body began to tremble under me as he looked up at me with hazy eyes and a silent plead. "Go ahead baby, cum for me" Digging his nails into my wrist he came on his lower stomach as I quickly came after him, heavy pants slipping past both our parted lips as I pressed a gentle kiss against the newly formed bruise on his neck before reaching for the towel I was supposed to use to dry my hair an hour ago.

"Giyuu, are you okay?" I asked while cleaning us both off, noticing the way he was practically half-asleep already. "Yeah, just a bit sore.. But it was worth it" Not wanting to embarrass him I merely nodded my head, pretending I didn't hear that last bit as I laid down beside him, pulling the cover over our bare bodies. However I couldn't help but smile as he snuggled against my chest while I gently traced small circles on his hip.

"I love you.."

"I love you too Giyuu."

#x male reader #giyuu tomioka x male reader #giyuu tomioka x seme male reader #giyuu tomioka x top male reader #giyuu tomioka x dom male reader #x seme male reader #x dom male reader #x top male reader #demon slayer #demon slayer giyuu

[abbysfrenchbraid]

Kissed by a Wolf - Chapter 11

masterlist

it’s 1:40 am and I finally finished proofreading this thing, thank god. in this chapter eivor and the reader fight it out, then fuck it out.

content warning for choking/breathplay, nudity, rough lesbian sex, spit and just general filth. if you’re not into that, you can stop reading when the reader and eivor go back to their hut and come back for the next chapter.

inspo pic by @classicnovaproductions​

Sapphism

“What are you talking about, Eivor?”

You were standing with your back to the wall of the longhouse, Eivor’s hands pinning your shoulders to the cold wood. Her eyes were full of rage and her face completely white with anger, making the red rune on her forehead stand out even more.

“I’m talking about you snuggling up with that little roach all day. Were you actually right where you belonged when I pulled him off of you the other night? Have I made a fool of myself chasing after you while you enjoy yourself with Norvid?” She spat out his name like a curse.

“Eivor, I did nothing of the sort! He apologized to me this afternoon and I forgave him, he was a drunken fool after all!” You shot her a meaningful look. “After that, he just kept appearing at my side, which was neither my desire nor my fault!”

She shook her head and now there was not only anger but also hurt in her gaze.

“I had you on my mind all day, through everything, and I come back to see you huddled together with Norvid, whispering sweet nothings and not even noticing me. What is it, did he offer you a bed to sleep in as well? Was I just a temporary solution until you found something better?”

You had enough of this nonsense. In one quick motion, you slammed down your hands on Eivor’s arms so her elbows bent and she had to let go of you. Then you grabbed her and pulled her around you, knocking her against the wall and pressing your forearm against the base of her throat. Her eyes widened in surprise. She could have easily fought you off and thrown you halfway through the village, but she stayed where she was.

“That’s enough!" you yelled. "I have never shared more than that stupid drunken hug with Norvid! He is a nice person and he just so happened to turn up at all the wrong times today. But that does not change how I feel about you! Put yourself in my shoes, I spent all day waiting for you!" Y ou added more pressure to your arm on her throat and saw the anger in Eivor’s gaze fade slowly, leaving behind only confusion and sorrow.

“Imagine running to meet your lover and being greeted with a blonde corpse!” You slapped her chest in frustration, tears streaming down your face. “I thought you were dead! Do you have any idea how that felt? And when I finally saw you, you did not even look at me, not a single word of greeting. You did not even give me a chance to comfort you, to tell you what I had been waiting forever to tell you! Instead, you run away as soon as you see me talking to Norvid and ignore me for the rest of the day. And now this! What gives you the right to insult me like this, to put all the blame on me when all I wanted was to be yours ?!”

You let go of her and pressed your palms to your cheeks, trying to regain control of your breathing. Eivor stared at you, a storm of emotions washing over her face. You tried to swallow the lump in your throat.

“I wanted to tell you today. Tell you that I am ready to face this new year with you at my side, that I choose you for now and forever, that there is no one else I would rather give my heart to.”

Your chest was convulsing from the cries you were trying to hold back.

“But I cannot give you my heart anymore...” You let out a desperate sob and Eivor’s eyes widened in fear. “- because you have already stolen it from me the day you rescued me from my terrible fate and brought me here with you. I am yours, I have always been only yours. Why can’t you see that?”

Eivor pushed herself off the wall and started pacing back and forth. You turned around to her, waiting for the final blow. It felt like your heart was slowly eating itself, the pain was unbearable. Finally, the warrior turned to you.

“Freya’s tears. I have been so stupid.”

She took a few steps toward you and fell to her knees in front of you.

“Oh Y/N, I have been so terribly wrong. Gods, I was blind. Blind with love, with passion, with jealousy. I should have trusted you more, but I was so scared of losing you, I could not see that you felt the same. My love, will you forgive me one more time? I know I do not deserve it after all the pain I have put you through -”

She fell forward and wrapped her arms around your hips, pressing herself against your legs and looking up at you, her cheeks wet with tears.

“Please forgive me Y/N, forgive me for my foolishness! I promise to cherish and care for you for the rest of my life and eternity in the afterlife, I promise to never doubt or hurt you again. Just please, please, take me back. I love you!”

You gently placed your hand on the top of her head and traced the red sigil on her forehead with your thumb.

“Get up,” you whispered softly.

She stood up and took both of your hands into hers. Her skin was warm and rough, her fingers calloused from hard work and fighting. Her eyes were full of desperation and you could feel her breath on your face.

“I forgive you. I wish I could say this was the last time, but I know I could not hold the worst crime against you for long. Our hearts are bound together, as painful or wonderful that may be.” You brushed a strand of that beautiful blonde hair behind her ear.

“I love you, too, Eivor. I will love you fiercely, deeply, and sincerely until this world turns to ashes and even after that.”

Your hand rested on her cheek. Carefully, you raised yourself on your tiptoes, your faces now at eye level, Eivor’s shaky breath dancing over your lips. Time seemed to stand still when your lips finally met. Eivor’s lips were incredibly soft and did not move against yours, not yet fully taking in what was happening.

You kissed her again, with a little more pressure this time and finally, your drengr reacted. You both drew in a breath at the same time, desperate, as if you had been underwater for too long and now finally breached the surface. She wrapped her arms around your waist and pulled you in, her lips still innocently closed until you ran the tip of your tongue over them. She opened her mouth for you and for a moment, you both just breathed each other’s air. Then Eivor pressed her lips to yours again, her tongue pushing against yours as she pushed you back against the wall.

When your back hit the wood, you let out a small whimper and Eivor immediately pulled back, concern on her face as she cupped your cheek with her hand.

“Have I hurt you?”

“No,” you mumbled before wrapping your hands around the back of her neck and burying your fingers in her beautiful blonde hair, gripping it tightly and pulling her closer. Something changed in her expression, a spark ignited behind those icy blue eyes and she kissed you fiercely, teeth clashing together and her tongue dancing around yours as her hands on your back wandered lower.

You lifted a knee to her side and she immediately picked you up, wrapping your legs around her waist and pressing you against the wall. You felt almost drunk, completely encased in the beautiful chaos of the last minutes. Was this really happening? Eivor rolled her hips forward against you and you sighed into her mouth. Yes, this was real. The tension between your legs was getting more unbearable by the second. You grabbed another fistful of hair and pulled the drengr’ s head back so she had to stare up at you, her throat exposed and her jawline as sharp as a knife.

“Take me to bed, Eivor.”

You could actually see her pupils widen, her eyes almost completely black as she slowly let you down. She took your hand, then you both walked in silence, passing the great bonfire and the people around it without paying them any mind, and finally rushing up the path to Eivor’s hut. She opened the door with shaky fingers. The room was dimly lit by the fireplace and Birna was still laying on Eivor’s clothes. You sighed in relief - you would have felt guilty for banishing her from the bed.

You had just stepped over the threshold when Eivor turned around, pushing the door shut behind you and trapping you between her and hard wood yet again. You leaned your head back against it and let your eyes wander over your lover’s face, her smooth forehead, her fiery eyes, the deep scar on her cheek, her chiseled cheekbones, the other small scar splitting her upper lip. You could not imagine how much pain and violence Eivor had seen in the course of her life.

You lifted a hand and slowly drew your digit along the scar on her cheek. She closed her eyes. You went on to her lip, feeling the notch where the scar was, a healing cut on her bottom lip, the soft skin on her chin. She swallowed as your hand wandered lower to her throat, caressing the little dent between her collarbones and then slowly pulling the strings that held the fur around her shoulders, loosening the knot and letting the fur fall to the floor.

In turn, Eivor gently slid her hands under your coat and slipped it from your shoulders. She smiled as her hands encased your waist, content with your choice of clothing.

“Beautiful,” she mumbled as she loosened the golden buttons on the short, pale blue overdress, pulling it over your head and throwing it to the side. You were left in the forget-me-not-blue long linen dress that was closed with a golden brooch at the back. Giving Eivor an eager smile, you turned around and placed your hands on the door while you waited for her to open the brooch.

She gently brushed your hair to the front before opening the clasp and letting the dress slip to the floor. The only thing still covering your body was a long strip of linen wrapped around your hips and covering your most intimate places. Eivor softly whistled through her teeth and you suddenly remembered the runes Valka had painted on your skin. You could feel the drengr trace them with her fingers, slowly wandering down your back until your entire body was covered in goosebumps.

You turned back around and Eivor let out another small, surprised noise when she saw the rune on your chest. She lifted a hand and placed it between your breasts, closing her eyes as she took in the warmth of your skin. You opened the clasps on her belt and the holster around her chest, letting the heavy leather fall to the floor, then you pulled on the strings that closed her pants. They immediately fell to the ground and Eivor, now only wearing a tunic, stepped out of them, pulling you with her toward the bed.

She let you sink on the mattress first, then she lowered herself on top of you, her legs intertwined with yours. You placed both of your hands on her face and pulled her in for a kiss. It got heated quickly, the pressure of her thigh between your legs a godsend. When Eivor pushed her hips forward, grinding into you, you moaned into the silence, immediately covering your eyes in embarassment. What were you, a little harlot?

Eivor gently took your hand from your face, grinning down at you.

“Don’t hide. I love hearing your voice, especially when it tells me how good I make you feel.”

Before you could reply, she had pinned down your wrists next to your head and started kissing your jaw and your neck, nipping the soft skin there and sucking on it, making you arch your back involuntarily. You had to fight not to cry out when Eivor rocked her hips forward again, her hot breath in the crook of your neck and the skin tingling where she had bitten into it. Your fingers found her tunic and pulled it toward you, revealing the same undergarments and a tattooed back, muscles dancing under pale skin. Eivor let out an annoyed grunt and ripped the tunic over her head, throwing it to the side before returning to you.

She kissed her way down your chest, grabbing one breast while sucking on the other and leaving red marks where her mouth had been. You had seen those marks on some of the other maids and stableboys before, but you had never understood how they had come by them. Now you knew. Oh, what a beautiful pain.

Eivor’s lips wandered lower, softly kissing your stomach while your fingers frantically worked the linen around her chest until the strip finally loosened and you could pull it off. She was now kneeling between your legs and you felt a strange thill come over you. How perfectly scandalous, how hot, how wonderfully forbidden this moment was. Flushed and spread out before her, your Viking lover gloriously decorated with tattoos, her breasts illuminated by the light of the fire, her small, hard nipples standing out in the cool air.

She lifted up one of your legs and kissed her way from your ankle up to your hipbone, then her nose wandered over the thin fabric that still separated her from you. You knew far too well how drenched the linen was, how wet you were with anticipation, ready for her to take you, to do whatever she wanted with you.

But Eivor was slow, she was careful and gentle. You knew she was still scared of hurting you. You lifted up your hips and caught her gaze as she began to tug on the linen, revealing you in your entirety.

“I am all yours,” you whispered. “Only yours.”

She nodded, her eyes nothing but dark abysses of lust, and lowered her head, her breath on your sensitive skin sending shivers up your spine. Finally, she opened her mouth and dragged her tongue all the way from deep between your legs up to that sensitive spot that was already pulsating in tune with the drumming in your ears. You could not resist pushing your hips up against her and Eivor took that as a final yes, wrapping her arms around your legs and holding down your hips as she attacked your core with her mouth.

Her tongue that had been so soft at first was now roughly pressing against your folds, tasting your juices, prodding into you, and making your gasp her name. You lost all sense of direction and reason, dragging your nails over her shoulders and fighting against her hands on your hips, burying your fingers in her hair as you begged her for more. She took her time driving you to the brink of madness, one moment licking you with broad strokes, then flicking the tip of her tongue over that little bundle of nerves, then pushing it deep inside you, making you jerk up and fall back into the soft pillows. You were yearning for her to fill you, to put those long, strong fingers to use, but you could not bring yourself to ask.

When Eivor finally looked up at you, you saw a vicious gleam in her eye that could mean nothing else but her already knowing what you wanted and toying with you anyway. She knew you were still shy despite everything and she would not go any further without you asking for it.

“Eivor… more… please,” you mumbled while taking her hand and pushing it down between your legs.

“What do you want, dove?” She was teasing you and she knew you would have to oblige.

“Your fingers.” You felt yourself blush, but before you could think any further Eivor had pushed a slender finger inside you, just halfway, looking up at you as her pink tongue slowly ran up and down over your folds. Your breath stopped as you watched her push in further. You were mesmerized by her eyes, her magnificent mouth, and her digit that slowly curled inside you. Slowly, you let your head fall back and closed your eyes, feeling Eivor pump her finger in and out a few times before adding a second, stretching you out while dragging her tongue over you lazily. Your eyes rolled back into your head as she started stroking you faster, her mouth joining in the rhythm of her fingers until you started to feel a familiar pull between your hips, all of your muscles beginning to flex and cramp up as your breath got quicker and your whines louder.

You pushed yourself up on your elbows, looking down at Eivor as you came closer and closer, your legs starting to shake on her shoulders. There was an explosion of heat in your core, sending sparks through your limbs and making you cry out in ecstasy. Eivor was still caressing you with her tongue, your flesh becoming more and more sensitive until you had to push her head away, breathing hard and not yet fully in control of your senses.

The blonde gave you a devilish grin and made her way up your stomach, then she kissed you hard. You could smell yourself on her skin and taste your juices on her tongue. It was incredibly dirty and so, so heavenly. Eivor wanted to roll off of you but you held her close.

“Lay on me, my love. I want to feel you, to prove that this is real.”

She hesitated for a moment, then she lowered herself down on you, resting her full weight on your body. You felt as if she might crush you, but it was the most wonderful feeling. You could feel her heartbeat echoing through your chest, the thin layer of sweat between you both, her hips pressing down on yours, her thick thighs between yours. Slowly, your hands wandered over her warm back, exploring the soft skin interrupted by old scars, the tiny hairs at the back of her waist, the linen still covering the parts of her you wanted to see the most.

Your hands wandered lower, caressing her firm, round ass and squeezing it playfully. Eivor immediately rolled her hips forward, chuckling into the crook of your neck. You hooked your thumbs under the linen bandages around her hips and she lifted them slightly so you could loosen them and pull them off to the side.

She let herself roll off to the side, one leg still between yours, both of you completely bare now.

“How do you feel, little dove? We don’t have to do anything you do not want, we can just sleep.”

Sleep was the furthest thing from your mind. You brushed some stray hairs out of Eivor’s face.

“I feel reborn. You truly are a master at anything involving your hands.” You grinned at her and she had to smile, too. You could almost swear she was blushing.

“Eivor, I never want to sleep as long as I can love you. I want to explore every inch of your beautiful body, I want to learn about every kind of pleasure from you. I want you to show me heaven with a single twist of your fingers.”

She placed the tips of her digit and middle finger on your bottom lip. You slowly opened your lips and sucked her fingers into your mouth, your tongue pressing up against them. Eivor’s mouth hung open in awe, her breath hot on your cheek. You kept eye contact as you sucked her fingers in all the way to the knuckle, your hand slowly making its way down her toned stomach. She was paralyzed by your gaze, incapable of doing anything but letting out a shaky sigh as your hand finally found soft curls and her hot, wet cunt. You had never felt anything like it. You wanted to make her feel the way she had made you feel before, make her moan your name, taste her and feel her, fuck her until she lost her mind.

You dropped her fingers from your mouth while pushing the leg she had draped over yours away so she lay open and bare, her legs spread wide for you. You drew your fingers along her drenched lips and she sucked in a breath through her teeth. Without thinking, you pushed two fingers inside her, moaning as you felt her soft walls encase you. Eivor gasped, pressing her forehead to yours. Slowly, you pulled your fingers out again and played with her pulsing lips, choosing to torture her some more.

“Again…” Eivor whispered. “More. Please.” She stretched her neck to kiss you and you dragged your tongue over hers, pushing your fingers inside her at the same time and relishing at the sound of her moaning into your mouth. Her cunt made a deliciously filthy noise as you continued to thrust into her, plastering wet kisses on her neck and chest.

Your drengr was writhing beneath you, her breath quick and her hands all over you as your mouth finally reached her hips. You dug your fingers into the firm muscles of her thighs as you settled between her legs, then you lowered your head and inhaled the wonderful musk of your lover, the familiar mix of sweat and tree bark, pine soap, and the sweet scent of her juices. Eivor was getting impatient, burying her fingers in your hair and pulling you toward her, yearning for some kind of friction.

With a sigh, you obliged and dove in. You had never even seen another woman’s private parts before, let alone touched them, but somehow it was the most natural thing. You dragged your tongue over her slowly, then you spread her lips with your fingers and began swirling your tongue around her pink nub, answered with hissing and cursing from the top of the bed. You decided to take it slow, lapping at her at a more moderate pace and massaging the insides of her thighs with your hands.

“More, please... Y/N, your fingers…”

You ignored her and when she pushed her hips up against you, you stopped altogether, giving her a stern look. She mumbled an apology and you had to force yourself not to laugh. She was all flustered and sulky, strands of hair sticking to her sweaty forehead, her cheeks flushed and her stomach convulsing every time you touched her. You began your slow pace again, your hands resting on her hips. She groaned but did not dare to rush you again.

Finally, you ate her out harder and faster, sucking on her folds, pushing your tongue inside her, drowning in her wetness and in sweet bliss at finally tasting your lover, having her all to yourself. You dragged your nails along the inside of her thigh and Eivor started whining as you caressed the skin just next to the center of her pleasure.

“Please, Y/N, dove, please don’t make me wait any longer, this is torture!” she cried out, her voice breaking in desperation.

You pressed your tongue to her pulsing nub and slowly pushed two fingers inside her. Her cunt sucked your fingers in eagerly, contracting around you as Eivor moaned in relief. You curled your fingers upward and she cried out your name, grabbing your free wrist so hard you were certain she would leave a bruise. Having found her sweet spot, you continued to fuck her while leaving lovebites on her hips and thighs, the sting making her hiss and close her thighs around your head. Her moans got raspier, her breathing faster and her curses more ungodly.

Just when you thought she would reach her peak, she hooked a leg under your hip and flipped you both around in one swift motion. You were now lying on your back and Eivor was straightening up on top of you, her thick thighs framing your face and her shins pinning your shoulders to the mattress. You took in the breathtaking view, her flushed face, looking down at you with blown pupils, her round breasts, her slender stomach, and her throbbing heat right over your mouth.

Eivor wasted no time getting back to where you left off, grinding down on your face and almost smothering you with that perfect, swollen cunt. You gave up any autonomy and just opened your mouth, reveling in the softness and the sweet and sour taste of her juices on your tongue. Eivor leaned back and braced herself on your hips. She looked glorious riding your face, her long blonde hair falling over her shoulders and shining in the light of the fire, the droplets of sweat on her chest sparkling like diamonds. She threw her head back and moved faster, her moans getting higher and higher as you tried to control your breathing. You would have been happy to die right there on the spot, smothered by Eivor’s thighs as she found her release on your tongue.

And she did find it, panting and moaning on top of you, her legs beginning to shake as she pushed down into your mouth, her body twitching and her hands digging into your hips as she rode out her high. Breathless, she fell to your side and lay splayed out on her back, her eyes closed as she tried to regain control of herself. You were just as thunderstruck, staring at the ceiling and trying to comprehend how monumentally your world had changed in the course of an hour.

“You’re going to be the death of me, little bird. Tell me who taught you to torture a woman like that, I will kiss them and then rip their head off.” Eivor’s voice was shaky and as you turned your head, you could see her thighs still twitching. You reached out and gently brushed your fingers over her pulsing mound. She jerked up and slapped your hand away.

“Don’t make me punish you. You’ve done enough.” Her expression was stern, but her eyes were still cloudy from the high. You just threw her an innocent smile and she gave you her wonderful crooked grin.

You sat up. How could you tell her that this was your first time without scaring her off? She had been gentle with you at first, yes, but that was surely because she knew of her own strength and did not want to hurt you.

“No one taught me," you said. She raised her eyebrows.

“So you just naturally know your way around a woman’s loins and did everything right from the first time?”

You lowered your head.

“Well, you tell me. Did I?”

She sat up as well and lifted your chin with her fingers, forcing you to look at her. The fire lit her face from the side and her eyes were practically smoldering.

“Are you telling me this was your first time? Come on, don’t joke about those things.” You swallowed.

“It was. Forgive me for not telling you, I thought it did not matter. You were perfect, everything was perfect.” You cupped her cheek with your hand. Her expression was a mixture of disbelief, concern, and astonishment.

“Freya’s tears,” she mumbled, “you should have told me. I would have been more gentle, more careful. My love, did I hurt you?”

You smiled at her, overwhelmed by your love for your gentle warrior.

“Eivor, as I said, you were perfect.” You crawled on her lap, straddling her thighs while holding her face in both hands. “In fact, you were almost too gentle. I am not made of glass, my fierce drengr .”

You licked your lips, grinding your hips against her. Eivor rolled her eyes at you. She wrapped one arm around you and held you tight to her chest, then she pushed herself up with the other and scooted up to the headboard, leaning her back against it. She ran her fingers through your hair, looking up at you in awe.

“Y/N, you are incredible. You amaze me every day.”

You placed a soft kiss on her lips before moving on to her jaw and down her neck.

“I’m learning from the best,” you mumbled against her skin and gently bit down. A small moan escaped Eivor’s lips and you rolled your hips forward again. Her hands wandered up your thighs and around to cup your ass, gently at first. As you left another love bite on her neck, her grip on your ass tightened and she began guiding your hips, rocking them against her, grabbing your cheeks so hard you felt your already wet cunt open up for her.

You moaned and pulled her hair back so she would look up at you. You could see her strained throat contract as she swallowed. She opened her mouth and you let a string of spit drip from your bottom lip onto her tongue. Her eyes were full of raw desire, a hunger that you had only seen in them when Eivor had set out for her last raid. A wave of heat came over you and you lowered your head, running your tongue over your lover's and mixing your spit with hers, your tongues dancing between you as more blood rushed between your legs and you could feel your own wetness run down your thigh.

You placed one leg between Eivor’s and began rocking back and forth on her thigh, her hands so tight on your ass you knew she would leave more marks. As you looked down, you could see her skin glisten where your dripping cunt had slid over it. The sight only made you hungrier and you pressed down on her, groaning at the friction. You grabbed Eivor’s jaw and made her look at you, then you pushed your thumb into her mouth, watching as she sucked on it, her hands never leaving your body. God, she was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

One of her hands wandered further down between your cheeks and suddenly you felt her fingertips at your entrance. You let out a deep, almost feral moan as you pushed back against her and they slid in easily. Continuing to rub yourself over her thigh, you arched your back so Eivor could go deeper and she did, pushing them in to the knuckle and twisting them until your eyes rolled back and you could not even scream, your lungs giving out at the overwhelming sensation.

“More,” you whispered. Eivor grabbed you and threw you to the side. You landed on all fours, her fingers still inside you as she knelt next to your hips and thrust into you from behind. She added a third finger, filling you up, stretching you, and making you cry out first in pleasure, then in pain when her hand came down hard on your ass. You pressed your face into the mattress to stifle a scream. The sting was delightful.

Eivor was ravenous, thrusting into you at a relentless pace, slapping your ass again and again, the sound ringing in your ears and the sharp pain making your blood rush. You were almost there, a whining, moaning mess beneath your warrior, and she knew. She reached around your stomach with her other hand and began rubbing circles into your pulsing flesh, brushing the rough pads of her fingers over your sensitive nub, riding the knife’s edge of not enough and too much. You saw nothing but red, heard nothing but the wet sounds of her fingers pumping in and out of you and her groans, then something inside you dissolved and your high hit you like a gigantic wave. It knocked the wind out of your lungs at first, then it made you scream out, Eivor’s fingers pressing on the perfect spots inside and out as your juices covered her hand and you collapsed on the bed, devoid of all control of your muscles.

Eivor lifted you up with ease, pulling you into her arms so your head could rest on her shoulder and pulling the thick quilt over your body. Her fingertips caressed your back as you fought for air and she pressed her lips against the top of your head, humming into your hair.

“I think you broke me,” you mumbled, your voice cracking. Eivor chuckled and pulled you closer.

“I think I finally wore you out for the first time. I always wondered during training how much you would take without complaining or tiring, now I know.”

You wanted to protest, to tell her you were still ready for more, but you could not even lift your head. Instead, you sighed and asked for a kiss. Eivor smiled at you and gently pressed her lips against yours.

“Sleep now, my precious dove. We have all the time in the world.”

The last thing you felt was Birna jumping on the bed and curling up at your feet. You had completely forgotten about her. Sending her a mental apology, you drifted away into a dreamless sleep.

-

When you woke the next morning, you were no longer in Eivor’s arms. Your eyes flew open in alarm - had she left again? But she was still next to you, a thin blanket covering only her legs and hips while her bare chest lay free, her muscular arms thrown over her head. Her long, blonde hair was splayed out on the pillow around her head, making it seem as if she was blessed with a halo. Her breath was deep and steady, her mouth hanging slightly open. God, she was a sight to behold.

The next thing you noticed were your sore muscles. Every part of your body hurt, partly still from training, partly from what had happened last night. You felt blood rush to your cheeks at the thought of what you and Eivor had done. How excitingly forbidden, how perfectly blasphemous, how deliciously vulgar it had been to finally give yourself to the woman you loved. And for her to give herself to you as well. You laid flat on your back and stretched your arms over your head, trying to get rid of some of the pain, but it was no use. You closed your eyes and before you knew it, you had fallen asleep again.

The second time you woke, you kept your eyes closed for a moment longer, drinking in the beauty of the morning. The fire was crackling again - Eivor must have already woken up and started it - and the air was so warm you had balled up the blanket next to you in your sleep and now lay naked on the mattress. You could feel Eivor lying next to you, the heat radiating off her body and her breathing, now different than before. She was no longer asleep.

“I know you’re awake,” came her voice from next to you and you opened your eyes, turning your head to look into the deep blue eyes of your lover. She gave you a vicious smile.

“Spread your legs.” You blinked at her in confusion, instinctively closing your thighs at first. Blood rushed right to your core and you noticed how swollen you were, your cunt still sticky from last night’s juices and already wet again, ready for your drengr to take you. You felt untamed and fantastically filthy.

“Eivor, I’m still so sore from yesterday,” you whined, but you knew your eyes were saying something entirely different, wandering over her lips and down to her breasts, finally resting on her hand that casually waited on the bed between you.

“Open up,” she ordered, her voice deeper and more stern. Slowly, you opened your knees and let them fall to the side, the muscles in your thighs screaming at the strain.

Eivor’s hand began to move over your breasts, your nipples hardening right away at the mere thought of her touch. She rolled one of them between her fingers and you gasped at the sensation. Her fingers slowly brushed over your stomach and hipbones, then she scooted closer, bracing herself on her elbow and cupping your mound with her hand. You could not keep your hips still and they buckled up into her touch.

She hummed in satisfaction, then one of her fingers dipped into your pooling wetness and dragged it up between your folds. You bit your lip to keep yourself from crying out, but Eivor gave you a fierce look and you let your mouth hang open, taking a deep breath to brace yourself for what was to come. Before you could tell what was happening, she had pushed three fingers deep inside you, sending shockwaves through your body. Eivor swallowed your moan with a deep, wet kiss, then she began pumping her fingers in and out at an excruciatingly slow pace, opening you up for her and making you hers.

After a while, she sat up and knelt between your legs, her eyes fixed on your swollen cunt and her fingers inside you. Slowly, she reached down and her hand vanished beneath the dark curls at her center. She looked down at you through half-closed eyelids, her tongue quickly running over her bottom lip before she let out a low groan. Part of you wanted to get up and touch her, another part wanted to lay down and watch her in all her glory.

Eivor made that decision for you when she lifted one of your legs and scooted closer, straddling your thigh at first. Then she rolled her hips forward against you and your cores suddenly touched. It was like nothing you had ever felt before. Hot and wet, her pulse beating against yours, connected at your most intimate points as Eivor let her head fall back and groaned your name. You quickly found a perfect pace, both of you grinding your hips together and interlocking your fingers with each other as your voices got louder and your moans got higher.

You were close and you could tell Eivor was, too. You wanted to reach the peak with her, to experience this high together. She lowered her head and your eyes met. Her movements got smaller and she increased the pressure, the smacking noises of your cunts rubbing against each other filling your head along with the rush of your own blood.

“Come for me,” Eivor growled and just like that, you were over the edge. You held on to her hand for dear life as you watched her arch her back and cry out on top of you, both of your moans and whines building a beautiful song of pleasure.

Your warrior collapsed on top of you and you relished in the feeling of her weight pressing down on your chest, her body encasing yours and shielding you from the world while you laid in intimate togetherness and breathed each other’s air.

After a few moments of silence, Eivor let herself fall to the side and stroked your cheek with her thumb. Her gaze was full of love.

“You are the best thing that has ever happened to me,” she whispered.

“I love you,” you whispered back, wrapping an arm around her waist.

A meow from the door made you both lift your heads and look over to a grumpy Birna. Eivor laughed.

“I’m sorry my dear, I will free you in a moment. You will get a feast from me tonight, I promise.”

She turned to you.

“Fancy a bath?”

-

Author’s note: As always, thank you for reading, I hope you’re doing well! If you like my work, feel free to drop me a message or buy me a coffee 💕

#eivor x reader #lady eivor x reader #eivor wolfsmal #eivor wolfkissed #eivor wolfsmal x reader #f!eivor #f!eivor x reader #ac valhalla #assassins creed valhalla #assassinscreedvalhalla #im so tired #fluff #angst #smut #good night

[jadelynlace]

a dead woman tells no tales / vikings fiction

series based on Lady Lazarus, a poem by Sylvia Plath.

chapter two / read chapter one here

synopsis: He left you for dead and now you’re back.

author’s note: the one small detail the reader has, is that she is a red head. smut below the cut.

pairing: Ivar x Reader

✄

There was an ache your feet contained, moving out of memory down the path but you could not recall why this one seemed to be so long. It was childish, your torment and exhaustion, heavy and foul in your heart but you moved forward, incurable search looming across your eyelids. “I will get help,” were the last words Ivar had spoke to you, the last time you were both in the realm of relishing in a life ahead. You spent many nights in those rocks, the moon looming over you and help never came. The tale that churned through the village at the time was how you wandered off into the woods and never returned back out. A victim of the elements, or hungered animals, perhaps gone to another establishment. You wondered who believed the petty story, especially since you knew of the best routes to take through all forests and hillsides from your upbringing. You ached to know why Ivar never brought back help.

*

The center of how the flowers bloom always caught your eye—spreading for their destiny to be taken away in the brisk spring wind when it would roll through. Your invisible business helped the sun stretch a bit higher, the sky lighting with the same passion that drove back your arrow; the relished sight of her reflection in the puddle of blood. Perhaps you could splash in it before the beasts had gone to lap it dry.

“You have been quiet for a woman of your beauty,” A sudden voice drew your immediate attention, your spot close to the woods that held your secrets as you watched the display of celebration before you.

“I have been watching,” You answered.

“And what is it you are watching for? How to enjoy a moment of celebration?”

“I am watching,” You repeated.

“When you have finished watching, perhaps you would care to come to my quarters,” The man finally spoke, curling the tone of his speech to lace your hair, intertwining the strands of amber.

“I would care not,” But your simplistic spite fell on ears that had long since been drowned with the mead, the man grabbing the neck line of your garment and lifting you.

“I am tired of chasing you to no avail. You are a fighter as I have seen, fight back,” He demanded, pushing you to lay across the ground, clad of covered feet stomping towards how you are positioned for him. “I would like to see the fight you speak of,”

“I watch and I learn,” You hissed, brushing the soot from the fabric of your clothing.

“You do not learn to fight by observing,” He laughed as you stood.

“You learn weakness,” You answered, still not backing from how his eyes watched you: how the silk of the dress hung to your breasts, how your fingers were long and nimble, neat and clean nails and he imagined what else your body could offer.

“Just like how everyone is weak to the end of a blade?” He snickered, the flash of the metal dancing daintily in his grasp.

“Yes, just like how everyone is weak to the poison in their mead,” You promised, a simple smile adorning your face as you crept back into the darkness of the night; only tossing a final look as the man began to gasp, his organs curdling as his body crawled towards his grave.

*

You visit Ivar’s quarters at night, dawned down the great hall as you creep along the floor. Ivar seated around an assortment of furs as you press the door open to catch him. 

“You haunt me,” He say lowly, a gaze torched through the blue eyes he owns as he has his head tipped towards where you stand.

“An evil spirit would haunt you, Ivar,” You state, “A spirit that wants revenge...have you done something you regret?” You ask, your feet taking you to the ledge of the place he sleeps, but his hiss simply stops you.

“I regret nothing in the path to greatness,”

“Do you regret not getting me help?” You finally ask. His shoulders sag briefly before he straightens himself up, a thin line of artwork catching the faint glow in the orange cast of the lingering fire. “Do you regret not speaking the truth about what happened?” Ivar only swallows thickly.

“Is that why have you come all this way to me? For revenge? Or for a different ending? I will kill you myself if that is what you are seeking,” Ivar growls as he raises. You notice the weight on the pillar he holds, how the legs he held so much hatred for are covered with iron as he clunks towards where you stand.

“I would like that Ivar,” You whisper as you watch Ivar’s face contort: his brow creasing to a sudden look of sadness as he catches the flames that crackle behind you. “You will do great things, Ivar the Boneless, but I have seen the gates of Valhalla, and they offer nothing that I can not get for myself now. I want you to remember one thing Ivar: everything always returns,” You hand moves on its own accord towards the chiseled cheekbone, streaked with petty battle scars but he flinches quickly from your touch.

“What have you done with the woman I once knew?” Ivar asked when his eyes finally catch yours. “I am a cripple and you…” His voice trails off as it dances between you two, soaked up completely by the moonlight. “You are back,”

“You need to rest Ivar. I will be gone in the mornings, and you can go forth,” You answer watching Ivar cast a look to where his body should be stationed: gorged in the warmth of the fur as the nightmares swamp through his mind for another night, but instead his hand catches yours as it retreats back towards your hips.

“You are back,” He repeats as the tone softens to such an extent you consider perhaps, someone else in the room is speaking for him. “Would you lay with me?” Ivar requests. “And give me that to remember on my voyage back?”

The room wafts against your nose the smell of him, you cannot explain the scent that has always reminded you of the man you knew, but your search for it came with no promises until you had moved to be next to him. Another couple of logs placed along the amber flames before you hear Ivar groan softly as the limp limbs he carries finally halt their torture to have their rest. The shine of his blue eyes are on you as your feet carry you back, a quick clicking from his tongue halting you in your attempts to pass him. Leveling to his gaze, he taps his own shoulder as your mind catches clue of his poem regarding the fabrics you wear. You carry on the next few moments untying how your dress has been formed, pulling the ends before it drops to your feet. Ivar’s eyes do nothing other than widen at the sight of your body bare for him, the clean, close shave of your mound and the lone traces of the injuries undetectable in the low light.

There’s a scream in your mind to climb over him, smother his body with yours and bloom pleasure between the two of you. There’s an even fainter call to struggle with him, stuffing the furs into his mouth to suffocate the voice that had been calling in your dreams since the nights you spent in the field. You body can do neither as his eyes fixate on you, a soft turn of his head as you find him studying you in beauty, your body written in a language for him to decode.

“What caused that scar?” He asked suddenly, finger outstretched to the crease across your hip bone as it slithered across the supple flesh on your inner thigh.

“A blade,” You response as you hear the man before you chuckle.

“A blade from whom?”

“A man who tried to have his own way with me,” You replied. “More than once,”

“Is he dead?” Ivar asked lowly.

“I poisoned him,” There’s a sick grin that claims Ivar’s mouth as you speak before him, a tick in the bones of his jaw as you spin the tale on to him of your efforts to harm anyone who has tried to harm you. Ivar must wonder why you have gone so long and spared him.

“Lay with me,” Ivar finally repeats, pushing back the mounds of fabric across the bed. As you round the structure, folding your dress neatly to rest across the far table, you still feel the climbing sting of Ivar’s gaze over your bare back. Trickling down the swell of your behind and over your legs, catching your chest in the light as another low hum slips on account of his studying. It does not take too much more of his wordless expressions to send the faint glint of arousal to slide through your womanhood, slipping across the plains of your thighs as you settle near his body. Ivar makes no motions to touch you, sliding down as one arm rests behind his head, the other caught in a line over his chest.

“This does not seem of something that would be memorable, Ivar,” Your voice catches his brows to raise as you too rise onto your forearms. “May I?” You ask as the pads of your fingers come to trace along the hardened length of his arm. He hums in compliance as you turn the limb from your path and gather yourself to rest along his chest, his arm coming back to circle you as half of a halo. His other arm wastes no time to complete the path as you sigh, breath fanning across chiseled muscles and lingering ink. He seemed stuck on how to continue, his arms still resisting to trace your body before you peak up to look at him. “I am not fragile, Ivar,” You whisper. Ivar turns his head slightly to catch your eyes, the faint pooling of the ink across the blue oceans as he watches you rise again, a throw of the blankets back before you’re across his hips.

“You misbehave,” He says to you.

“You bring it out in me. Do you not wish to lay with me like that Ivar?” You ask. But you get no immediate answer.

“You know that answer. But...there are many things you have missed in the time you have been away,” Ivar starts. “I—” But his words die against his mouth as you press your lips along his, sinking a quick pressure of your teeth into his bottom lip as you pull away. Room is limited as Ivar’s arms stabilize you against his chest, holding you there as if he fears you will simply float from his grasp before his mouth is hot against yours. The faint rocking from your hips catches him as his lips falter, his hands not ceasing as they explore every trace of your skin. “You will be disappointed,” Ivar whispers softly enough you almost miss his sentence.

“Can you not feel it? How my body responds for you Ivar?” You ask puzzled the lone pressing of his prick takes your notice from where you have your body spread. Ivar’s mouth parts as you grind your cunt where he grows, his head sinking back across the furs with a simple low moan of your name. You want to peel away the rest of what covers him, but the closer you drew to his lower legs the further Ivar went from you. His eyes situated with lust as your finger danced by his knees quickly dissipates until you pull your hands back to his chest. “Let me pleasure you, Ivar,” You say sweetly. “I will not undress you any further,”

Before you can sink down across him, Ivar stills you, watching how your breasts pebble to his touch, slipping his hands between your legs as your wetness collects along his digits. Your moan is matched with his alike, impatient to continue with his thumb still circling your clit, his own way with you tingling the sensation to bloom at your tailbone as your thighs start to shake. Ivar’s name falls from your lips in a moan as he studies you while you come, the simplest pressure from him still causing such a delicious outpour. You can feel his cock twitching, aching to be touched with the fluid pebbling from its head. Through still pleasure drunk thighs you sink across him, the sting of your walls spreading catching you to halt before he’s fully inside of you. A watchful face of concern as you hiss briefly at his size, finally sheeting him fully inside of you. Your tightness stills Ivar completely, a low moan dribbling from his lips as his chest heaves, tensing through his abdomen as your fingers dance over him. As the pain fizzles to spread a hum of glorious pleasure through you, your hips move on their own, Ivar’s hands gripping your breasts as they bounce slightly, your head tipping backwards. Still stuck watching you before you lean closer to him, his mouth hungrily taking yours as you feel him move his own hips towards you.

No words are exchanged, soft noises from both of yours mouths to be eaten back up again as you feel another wave roll towards you. Ivar’s arm lock around you and your climax hits you, his own pulling a release from his shaft as he fills your walls with his lips still stuck to yours. Breathing each other’s scent in as the final flames go out with the smell of sex through the air. Ivar makes no hurry to have you leave him, his cock softening as you nuzzle his cheek.

“Why must you leave?” You find yourself asking.

“I have a kingdom to return to, my people and my queen,” Ivar suddenly admits.

“You have wed?”

“Yes,” Ivar answers as you slowly pull back. “I told you that you would be disappointed. Freydis is with my child,”

“Freydis?”

“Yes,” His answer pierces your heart, not out of the sorrow of having then lost him to another woman, but of the battles you know he has no knowledge of. You laugh suddenly, a joyous giggle, trying to move away but he stops you. “Please stay, Y/N,” Ivar whispers.

“She is not with your child Ivar,” You find yourself suddenly spitting from your lips, wishful that you could stop them as your laughing dies to an end. “She has been laying with the baker’s son, and she is with his,”

Tagged:

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#vikings #vikings fiction #vikings au #ivar the boneless #ivar lothbrok fanfiction #ivar lothbrok #ivar au #ivar lothbrok x reader #ivar ragnarsson #ivar ragnarsson fanfiction #ivar ragnarsson smut #ivar ragnarsson x reader #ivar x reader #— i am i am i am. ( my writings & creations ) #a dead woman tells no tales

[thirstyfortaglines]

Welcome to the Wangsheng Family!

This is a 1.5K word Hu Tao x fem!reader fic. Contains adult content. This is my first time writing yuri content so I hope you enjoy.

“So...am I hired?” I reclined from my hunched over position, hastily attempting to organize my papers. Today I sat before the director of the Wangsheng funeral parlor, Hu Tao, in the hopes of getting a job. After reviewing the papers, Hu Tao nodded, finally looking up at me. “You definitely meet the basic experience requirements, but I’d like to get to know you a bit more before making my decision,” she stated in a professional but friendly tone. “What do you mean?” I asked, taken off guard by the question; I had never made it this far in an interview, and it showed. “Well, you must be a strange soul to seek work at a funeral parlor. What brings you here?” she pressed on, an eyebrow quirked in my direction. “To be honest…” I started slowly, scared of revealing too much, “this is the last place left for me. Everywhere else I’ve applied has turned me down for one reason or another, which is why I really appreciate your consideration, miss Tao.”

“Peculiar indeed...well, your application shows you’re more than capable of handling this position-” she had only just started, but I was already jumping out of my seat in celebration. “Thank you so much Director, I promise to be a hard working employee for you” I felt tears start to form and reached for her hand, only to be met with a wagging finger and a mischievous look. “While you have some experience, I have to make certain you’re emotionally strong enough for this job; this line of work can be very taxing and I have to make sure you’re up to snuff” she finished, standing and looking down at me. She then explained to me that she would need to conduct some examinations on me as a test of my metal; had I been less desperate for the job, I might have given it all a second thought, but I was too afraid of her changing her mind to show any bit of hesitation. And so, with a final locking of the doors, I was subjected to Hu Tao and her onslaught of trials.

“Is all this...necessary?” After having agreed to her testing, Tao handed me a blindfold and asked me to wear it. She then explained she was going to apply different types of pressure to my spirit which may cause me to lash out, and so she told me to sit down and tied my hands behind the chair. “To fully bring out the essence of one’s soul, they must first be deprived of the material world and be relieved of their earthly desires” the Director said hauntedly over my shoulder, as if to be spooky and get a rise out of me. Though I could not see, I could definitely hear the things going on around me.

Especially the sudden breathing against my ear. 

“What are you-” I spoke out, startled by the sudden heat in my ear. “Hey, stop moving! You’ll ruin the ritual” she whispered hurriedly into my ear, hushing me. After a few moments, I felt what seemed to be her chin resting upon my shoulder, and with it came the brush of her hand up the sides of my arms. “Tell me,” she began to speak in a low hum, “what is your desire?” Truthfully, I did not have many desires left: I had already settled down in Liyue harbor, my debts had been paid off, I mostly had everything I needed-. “My my, you’re still a virgin?”

The question rang out in my head as blood rushed to my cheeks and made my face flush with embarrassment. “W-why does that matter?!” I stammered, though I already knew the answer in my heart. “To work here, you must be capable of freeing yourself of all desire,” she started, finally untying my blindfold, “and so, we’ll have to do something about this lust of yours.” At that moment, the look in Tao’s eyes changed to something more...enchanting; my entire body was lit ablaze under her gaze, with every new location she brushed her fingers against bringing new life to my skin. “Looks like you’ve finally loosened up” she said after some time, cheerily as ever, slowing her exploration of my body for a brief moment. Though I was still bound in my chair, I reveled in this moment; the director was right, this was exactly what I wanted, no, needed. I let out a long winded sigh as Tao traced the back of my head, resting her hand at the base of my neck with a coaxing but firm grip. Her thumb played at the base of my hairline as I tilted my head back to fully feel her touch, the feeling of being held ringing throughout my entire being. What I wasn’t ready for was the kiss.

Hu Tao leaned over my shoulder and planted a kiss, square on my lips. Shock overtook my body, swiftly followed by a maddening desire for more as she drew away; I nearly lept out of the seat, chasing after her fleeting lips. “Haha no need to rush, I’ll give you some more” she teased me, but I didn’t care anymore; all that mattered to me in that moment was having more of her to myself. Perhaps it was only minutes, or maybe hours and hours had passed already, but all I knew was that I was exhausted from the kissing alone. I was dizzy and light-headed, so when Hu Tao slipped from my side, I didn’t even notice. Only when I saw her little hat pop up at my lap did I realize, and the smile she wore told me there was much left in store for this “test”. “So,” she said, her eyes bright and smile wide, “are you ready for round two?” “Round...two…?” I was still attempting to catch up with everything going on but Hu Tao continued full steam ahead. Though I was still seated, she had no intention of stopping, raising my one leg over her shoulder, and pushing the other aside to give her more room. “It’s safe to assume this is your first time, right?” she hovered above my panties, breathing heavily and arousing me further. “Y-yeah, what about it?” I tried to sound confident, but my inexperience shined through as brightly as her eyes, enticing Tao to take advantage. “Well then…”

“Allow me to be your guide~”

She lifted my skirt with a look of anticipation written all over her face, followed by a more quizzical look. “Say, are you a vision user by any chance?” she asked, somewhat abruptly. “No, why?” I replied, equally as confused, though still awaiting more of her touch. She smiled wryly at me and continued, “It’s just so wet down here, I thought you surely couldn’t have been this excited by my kissing alone, you must be a hydro user. Glad to know I still have my touch.” Embarrassment once again coursed through my veins, with Hu Tao still sitting between my legs, attempting to console me while concealing her own laughter. 

“Ready?” she looked up at me with a strong gaze, crumpling any opportunity to defy her. I nodded meekly and watched as she descended once again to between my legs. A cold sensation suddenly began rubbing against my clit, contrasting heavily with the hot air being breathed along my thighs. Despite my attempts to contain my enjoyment, a moan of pleasure left my lips as the teasing continued. “My my, did you enjoy that? My hand is absolutely soaked!” Hu Tao giggled, removing her hand from the area and tracing my thighs with the tips of her fingers. The sensation was so stimulating I got goosebumps all along my skin, begging to be touched, teased, and toyed with more. Once I was amply excited again, Tao gripped the sides of my drenched panties and slowly pulled them off, as if to remind me she was in control this entire time. “I think,” she said, hovering dangerously close to my sensitive pussy, “it’s time I dig in.”

The moment her tongue entered me, I screamed as I came. Not once had I ever considered myself a “quick shot”, but in that moment the stimuli got to me and Hu Tao showed now mercy; she continued her attack on my sensitive parts, alternating between her fingers and her tongue, forcing me to cum many, many times. At some point she doubled up on her assault, using her tongue on my clit and reaching deep into my pussy with her fingers, drawing out an aggressive moan from me and completely draining me of all my stamina. The cycle went on for hours: Attack, Cum, Tease, Repeat. And I loved every second of it.

By the time she had finished, I was drenched in sweat and my own fluids, fatigue overcoming my every muscle. “Seems like you’ll be a great fit here” the Director stated, standing up to face me. I gazed up at her as she placed a hand on my bare chest, leaned in, and kissed me. The feeling lingered on my lips as she made her way towards the door. “You start next Monday” she said behind her, halfway through the door. “T-thank you ma’am” I called after her, scrambling to get my clothes back on.

And that’s the story of how I got a job at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor.

Todaloo~

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #hu tao #hu tao x reader #mod hoh

[the-melting-world]

The Empress | Side B: “The Fear”

Art by @markmefistov

~ In which a humble gardener opens Strength’s Door…

The Trio Appearances: Kipling | Khleo | Ozy

Arcana LI appearances: Asra | Nadia | Muriel 

Track Origins: “The Fear” by Ben Howard

Not sure if this is the right track? The full album can be found here: The Empress

cw: none

~ 2k words

After Kipling, Ozy, Nadia, and Asra return from the underwater library, Ozy leaves Kipling with the gauntlets, reminding her that he still has to show her how to permanently unlock her third eye.

“Trust me, Kip,” Ozy said with a reassuring smile, “once your third eye is open, you’ll have a much better time navigating the portals.”

With that Ozy let Nadia escort him back inside the Palace. Earlier in the library, he and Kip had agreed to save their lesson in grey magic for the next day. Kipling appreciated Ozy’s patience with her. She could tell he wanted her to be as comfortable as possible before they started unpacking everything from the past.

She was grateful to him for that.

***

(Nadia’s POV)

Nadia walked with Ozy back to his chambers. When they arrived, she waited by the door while he removed his gauntlets and set them aside on the dresser. Nadia wasn’t sure why she hadn’t yet left the grey mage to his business. Her agenda was packed with meetings with foreign dignitaries and not to mention she had a desk full of letters that needed responding to.

And yet, there were other things clouding Nadia’s mind. Like intricate spiraling details across a pearly, artificial surface that stretched so far in every direction. 

“That machine in your library,” Nadia said, starting quietly at first. “The one underwater. Is that where it’s meant to be kept?”

After Ozy took off his gauntlets, he rolled his wrists a few times and walked back towards the Countess.

“The Nautilus? Yes, that’s its primary function – traveling through water. Makes it easier for deep sea exploration.”

This piqued Nadia’s interest even further. “A vessel that never needs to surface?”

Ozy was standing before the Countess now, his expression friendly and eager to keep engaging with her on the topic.

“It does! But not often.”

Nadia hummed. “I see. Like a whale. Or a turtle.”

A soft glimmer flashed behind Ozy’s eyes, as if he were thinking of the same comparisons.

“Yes. Exactly.”

Nadia, who was content to invite Ozy to walk with her, said, “That’s fascinating, Oz. What an incredible find.”

Ozy fell into an easy stride beside the Countess, his hands tucked comfortably in the pockets of his crisp pants. “Hm. Thank you, but I didn’t stumble upon that vessel. You did.”

“What do you mean you…” Nadia slowed to a stop. Ozy mirrored her and turned so that he was facing her, his lip quirking in what she read as a hopeful challenge. That’s when Nadia quickly assembled the pieces of his implications.

“Oz… do you mean to suggest that you built such a thing?”

Ozy looked off to the side rather sheepishly as he shrugged his shoulders.

“Abaco helped.”

Once again, the grey mage had left the Countess at a loss for words. 

As if to put her at ease, Ozy added, “I built a lot of things over the years, Countess. Fixed a lot of things.” His hazel eyes drifted skyward. “Broke a lot of things too now that I think about it.” His hand wandered up to absently scratch at his five o’clock shadow. “Mostly because I ran out of stuff to fix. Not really any other option in that case but to break some things. Otherwise I wouldn’t have…” Ozy’s speech turned into uninterrupted mutterings.

Nadia realized he would have never stopped if she hadn’t said, “Oz, please.” 

That was enough to call back his attention.

“As long as you’re here,” Nadia reached for both of Ozy’s hands, “I want you to call me Nadia.”

Ozy looked down at where she held lightly onto his long fingers, and then back up again. 

“Oh. Like Asra and Kipling do?”

Nadia gave a deliberate nod. “Yes.”

Ozy blinked, the confusion written plainly across his face. “But they’ve known you longer.”

The Countess shook her head. “I know it might seem strange, but that does not matter to me.”

The grey mage was silent for only a moment before he grunted in gentle understanding. He pressed his rather nimble fingers more firmly against Nadia’s.

“You’re ambidextrous,” Ozy noted. “Like me.”

Nadia couldn’t help her face from heating slightly at his observation.

“You’re correct about that.... How did you know?”

Ozy continued to test and trace his fingers around the Countess’. 

“These hands have solved a lot of puzzles. To the point where it’s impossible for them to ignore the details in fact. So… Nadia,” he locked eyes with her, his gilded lip curling into a soft smile, “what’s the story with your hands?”

Nadia grinned, trying to gauge the line where Ozy’s friendliness blurred into flirtation. 

“I’m not sure if there’s a way I can express this without sound like I’m bragging, but my hands do know their way around a workshop.”

Once again, Ozy’s eyes lit up. “A workshop, really? Will you show me?”

Nadia gently guided her hands out of Ozy’s and up around his bicep, linking her arm through his.

“I can take you there, but I won’t be able to join you again until late this afternoon. I have a city to help govern as you might have gathered.”

“Right.” Ozy said with a respectful nod. “You don’t have to worry about me, Nadia. I can always find ways to keep myself busy until you return.”

“Oh, Oz.” 

Nadia thought back to that vessel, immense and pristine, resting at the bottom of a deep pool. 

“I have no doubt about that.”

***

Kipling noticed that Abaco didn’t follow Ozy and Nadia when they left the garden. The bird was content to stay behind and play with Taro and Faust. There was something Kipling found soothing in watching the three familiars interact. So she sat there right in the grass next to a hedge of snowball viburnums. 

Asra, who knew Kip’s behaviors very well by now, was happy to take a seat and curl up right beside her.

“Asra, there’s something I have to tell you.”

The magician breathed a sigh of relief, hoping that it wouldn’t show. He wrapped his arm around Kip’s shoulder and placed his other hand in her lap. “I’m listening.”

In the past, Kip had looked elsewhere, anywhere but directly at Asra, only occasionally flicking her gaze up to meet his. That wasn’t the case this time. Her syrupy brown eyes were fixed on him as she spoke. She seemed determined to give him her full attention.

“When you came by Muriel’s cottage, did he tell you about the reading he gave me?”

Asra swallowed. “Yes. But only a little. He said you drew the Empress.”

“Reversed,” Kip clarified. “I’ll be honest. I’ve been neglecting to tell you the whole truth about Ozy and Khleo… well, Khleo specifically.”

“You don’t talk about them much,” Asra noted. He also didn’t miss how Kip’s eyes would glaze over whenever Ozy mentioned the umbra’s name.

Kip sighed. “I’m ready to talk about them now. Asra, I knew Khleo for a long time before meeting Ozy. They kept my secrets, they were the one I confided in whenever I needed it. When Ozy came around and I didn’t want to have anything to do with him, it was Khleo who taught me about kindness and acceptance. I don’t think I can explain how close we were…”

“You loved them. You still love them.”

Kipling could tell by Asra’s tone that he must have known all this time.

Kip took a moment to work out the tremors in her upper body. Asra squeezed her hand in reassurance.

“We never confessed it aloud, but the day that Khleo was taken by the Door, I was so sure that they were going to say it first.” Kip caught a sob. “There just wasn’t enough time.”

Asra pulled Kip until her face rested against his collarbone. He removed his red scarf and wrapped it around her shoulders. By now the three familiars had gathered onto both of their laps. Taro was determined to soothe Kipling with her head nuzzles and soft chirps.

While Asra rubbed her spine, Kip managed to choke out, “When I portaled to Strength’s gate, I saw Khleo and those feelings were still there, Asra. I don’t know what to do. I know I’m supposed to go see the Empress, but I want… all I can think about is…”

“There was something else Muriel told me,” Asra said. “On the morning you left, the ground all around his cottage was covered in daisies. They could have only come from you. He said there were so many of them, magically conjured to stay in bloom for much longer than normal.”

“Daisies,” Kip sniffed. “They were in Strength’s realm too.”

“Well, they’re all around us right now.”

Kip opened her eyes and sat up. Asra was right. The magical daisies had appeared in the garden. There were thousands of them, packed so tightly it was almost impossible to see the grass.

It wasn’t unnatural for Kip’s green magic to behave in this way. Most of how she managed it was based on her emotions. But she had never seen anything like this.

“Kip,” Asra said, “what if you used the daisies to find your way back to Strength’s realm?”

She tore her eyes away from the flowers and looked at the magician with a mixture of uncertainty and surprise. “You think I should go to Strength’s realm? Without Ozy?”

Asra nodded, his lavender eyes serious. “I’ll go with you.”

“But what if–”

“It was you who said that you can’t bring yourself to meet the Empress right now. What if drawing that card means that you have to face your feelings about Khleo before moving forward?”

Kip’s drew a heavy breath. There were so many what ifs. What if Khleo didn’t remember her? What if Strength tried to bite her head off again? What if…

“Kip.” Asra placed his hands on either side of her face and steered her into a kiss. “I’ll be there with you. We fought the Devil, remember. We can pay Strength a visit. We’ll come to the front door this time instead of dropping out of nowhere. If she doesn’t want to let us in, then she won’t.”

When Asra put it like that, the stakes didn’t seem so high. 

Brrrrr.

Kip looked down to see Taro holding up her new pair of gauntlets. Faust bobbed her head in encouragement and Abaco fluffed his feathers once before using his beak to flick a switch on the gauntlet so that it hummed to life.

Once Kipling had donned them and stood up, she took a deep breath and did her best to rely on what she knew. To her amazement, the gauntlets made it so much easier to detect the control pad that opened the Doors.

Kipling activated the invisible motherboard and gasped when she saw more daisies growing spontaneously in the air. They shot off a few feet to Kip and Asra’s left, circled once and then again in a double ring – the outline of a Door.

“That must be the way to Strength’s gate,�� Asra whispered. 

Kip’s gauntlets gave a sharp whine as she felt them tug her towards the highlighted portal. Asra followed behind Kip as she drifted in that direction. Abaco flew ahead, tweeting madly and whizzing to the path of the daisies. 

Kipling reached out until she connected with the lever handle to the Door. She found it easily, as if a magnetic force linked her gauntlet to the portal. 

Then Kip pushed until the lever rotated. The Door squeaked as it opened. That magnetic tug was back, but this time it wanted to get away from Kip. She tentatively released the lever and watched as the door snapped open. Wider, wider, wider – 

“You have to lock it, Kip!”

Kip gasped at the memory of a younger Ozy hollering at her while a storm grew over their heads. This sparked a second memory of a Door that grew too great for any of them to handle. She couldn’t let that happen again. 

Kip glanced over at Asra and remembered. She would never let another Door take off with someone she cared about.

Her gauntlet glowed brighter. Kip listened to the hum…

The gardener caught the lever before it could get away from her and spin completely out of control. She sensed a new type of pull and followed it, anchoring the lever into a small depression that wasn’t visible to the naked eye.

Glittery light sparked all along Kipling’s knuckles. Abaco was absolutely delirious with excitement. The daisies dissolved, but there was water on the other side of the Door, churning smoothly, without turbulence.

Through the tunnel of seawater and shimmering light, Kip felt the call of clear summer skies and rolling hills blanketed in wildflowers.

#arcana albums: the empress #arcana albums #the arcana #kipling the apprentice #ozy the grey mage #asra #asra alnazar #nadia #nadia satrinava #my writing #the arcana fanfic #the arcana fic #asra the arcana #nadia the arcana

[feeling-weirdy]

I loved your Halloween fic!!!!

Would you consider writing a follow up where Wanda and Vision finally get to walk down the yellow brick road 😉😉 once trick or treating is done and the kids are asleep? Maybe they have to take a shower to get all the makeup and stuff off???

Love everything you write!!!

Make sure you check out part 1 first!

Explicit for suuuuure

"Looks like the kids are down for the count. I never thought a sugar crash would be our saving grace, but there you have it."  Vision plopped himself on the bed, straw pieces littering the bed with every movement.  He and his costume had been positively spent and he found himself no longer caring where the bits of his costume fell.  “The night is officially over.” 

Wanda came in from the bathroom, meticulously removing both of her earrings with a thoughtful glance.  "That wasn't too bad now was it?"

"You do have to admit...”  Vision grunted softly, pushing himself up so that he was leaning on his elbows against the bed.  “Your costumes are a bit...outdated."  His face scrunched at the word, his lips tugging outwards as his eyes scanned her perfect form.  The blue and white checkered pattern suited her quite nicely, a small slip of fabric hugging her waist together in a most delicious way that only stopped once it twisted around itself to form the bow that sat at the small of her back. 

"Outdated?”  She scoffed, making her way towards him.  Placing the earrings on the nightstand, she leaned over him and placed one delicate kiss on his lips.  “I think you look quite handsome if I do say so myself."

"Mm, thank you, darling."  As she pulled back, he followed her sneaking in one last kiss before she stood up straight. “Yours is definitely worth all the fuss.  I think I could get used to seeing you in little numbers like that.”

“Oh yeah?”  She giggled, sauntering toward the bathroom with exaggerated movements. Her hips swung back and forth as she peered over at him with a loving glance. "Maybe you should help me get this little number off then. Find something else you'd enjoy more?" Wanda leaned against the bathroom door, daring him to follow after her with teasing eyes.

Vision cocked his head to the side, a knowing smile gracing his lips.

"Pretty sure we're supposed to follow that yellow brick road, hm? You wouldn't want to keep me from finding my way home, would you Mr. Scarecrow?"

Vision chuckled, pushing himself to his feet as he closed the distance between them. "I'm pretty sure we can drop all that, yeah? Maybe it's not quite as sexy as I thought it was." Slipping his hand around her waist, he used his right to trace the edge of her jaw, pulling her lips up to meet his.

"Worth a shot." Wanda shrugged, grinning up at him. "Maybe we should just...take this off and put things back in order."

"I think that would be for the best."

They kept their eyes locked on each other. Wanda reached around her back, slowly undoing the bow that kept her little dress tight around her body. She turned, silently asking for help with the zipper. Vision complied, brushing her hair out of the way as he steadily pulled the zipper all the way down her back.

Slipping his hands beneath the fabric, he ran his cool digits along her skin, tracing the indentation of her back until he reached her shoulders. He flicked the straps off of her shoulders allowing the entirety of the dress to fall to the floor, revealing her voluptuous body.

He allowed his fingers to explore her skin, tracing over the patterns of her black bra. With a soft sigh, she turned in his arms, stretching her arms around his neck and pulled him down for another kiss.

"No fair," she breathed against him, peering down at his still clothed body.

Vision laughed. " I wouldn't even know where to begin to take this thing off."  He raised his arms slightly, feeling as if he had been sewn inside this blasted thing, and as the person who did the sewing, she knew full well what she had done.

"Can't you just...?"  Wanda's eyebrows danced, moving in all sorts of directions in implication. "Plus...you gotta change...all that anyway." She circled her finger around his face, a dazzling smile crossing her face.  "If I'm going to make love to my husband then I'm going to make love to my husband."

"Ah...right." His human disguise dissipated, giving way to the reddish-purple tint of his normal outward appearance. Changing forms gave himself the opportunity to shed his costume, leaving him in nothing but his black boxers. His wife gazed up at him, her approval evident.

“Much better...”  

Vision set to work where he left off earlier in the night, peppering kisses along the nape of her neck.  Teasing his cool fingers along the sides of bare skin, eliciting all sorts of sighs and squeaks as he made his way around her body.  He could feel Wanda’s warm fingers make their way along his hard chest, the temperature difference sending shivers through his very core.  Soft moans escaped her lips, nagging him on until it was his tongue trailing along her soft, delicate skin.  While he couldn’t taste in the same way a human could, he could still feel the metallic tang rest along his tongue.  He could take in her heat if nothing else, only growing more pronounced as he made his desires known.

Not allowing himself to rush, Vision took his time as he worked his way up her neck drawing out all sorts of delicious noises from Wanda’s lips as she wrapped her arms around him.  Her fingertips scraping along the sensitive part at the base of his neck only driving him mad.

Finally making his way to her mouth, Vision crashes his lips to her, his hand trailing back down to the tip of her waist as she pressed against him.  The passion between them built by the moment, pulling each other closer until air no longer existed between them.

Wanda hops and wraps her legs around his waist and he carries her to the bed, stripping off her panties in one quick motion.  She arched her back, hurriedly removing her bra, never breaking their kiss as he climbs on top of her.  Tossing her underwear to the side, she allowed her fingers to explore his body once more, reaching down to tease him through his boxers.  A powerful feeling exploded within him as she ran a finger along his cock, coaxing him forward.

Happily obliging, Vision pressed himself against her center, teasing the folds with the bulge keeping them apart.  The feeling of her warmth against his swollen muscle drew him, easily phasing through the last of his clothes until he was completely engulfed within her.

Despite her attempts to keep herself quiet, Wanda’s whines dripped from her lips unashamed as he buried himself within her.  She bit her bottom lip, digging her fingernails into the plates on his back as she braced herself for the friction that built up between them.

He kept a steady rhythm, her warmth drawing him deeper as he gripped the sheets beneath them.  Wanda traced her fingers along his cheeks, pulling him down for another hungry kiss.

They moved together, keeping a uniformed pace as he closed the distance between them again and again.

Vision could feel as she reached her climax, her walls tensing against his member as she tried desperately to keep herself quiet for their children’s sake.  She never could quite get that right, though they had been lucky those same children were hard sleepers.  He hurried his pace, hoping to help her along as she fell over the edge.

Her breathing staggered, her heart rate increased as she began to convulse, biting her bottom lip to keep herself from screaming as he chased his own release.  Vision was never far behind, her soft and desperate expressions only pushing him faster towards his own convulsions.  

His systems erupted with pleasure as his programming replicated the experience of an orgasm.  The intense feeling overtook him, squeezing his eyes tight as he allowed it to wash over him.  Wanda’s fingers danced along his arms, determined to catch her breath as his movements slowed.

Vision kept himself towered over her as she caught her breath.  She leaned her head back for a moment, sweat peppering her brow.  “Now we’re definitely going to need a shower.  Care to join me?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Vision answered, pressing his lips hard against hers one last time into a deep kiss.  Even after all this time together, her kisses sent electricity throughout his entire system.  They spent a moment just absorbing each other in a truly blissful, happy moment.  With a smile and a quick kiss on the nose, Vision pulled away from her as she giggled beneath him.

Following her to the bathroom, the two spent the night consumed with one another.

Check out my other drabbles here or feel free to request some!

#scarletvision #wandavision #the vision #wanda maximoff #rini drabbles #scarletvision smut #sitcom au #look this is your one smut prompt for now #don't test me #writing smut makes me so nervous lmao

[jiaraendgame]

Manipulation — Part One

Summary: Why Rafe Cameron took an interest in a Pogue is unknown, but a year later a bad decision has a good outcome when a golden boy from the Cut makes an unwavering impression on this lost girl.

Warnings: Angst, sad, drug use/abuse, swearing, underage drinking, peer pressure. (I think that’s it?? If I missed anything for the warnings let me know)

Word Count: 3k+

A/N: This is a song fic based on Manipulation by Beartooth.

***Part one is all Rafe x Reader flashback. Part two is where JJ comes in. Oh and there is like a 2.2 second scene with Platonic!JB x Reader in this part.***

This is my first time writing for OBX and in general posting fanfiction for the world to see. So apologies cause it’s definitely trash. I just want to say a BIG thank you for the few people here who encouraged me to write and have fun. Also a BIG thanks to my best friend and beta reader @john-benderr for hyping me up and always supporting me and my silly antics. Hope you guys don’t hate it, I tried my best. Let me know what you think???

Gif credit: @toesure

I hesitated, got lost again

You saw me as wounded prey

I was a wreck, I was a bloody mess

And you couldn't look away

The Boneyard designated party destination here in the Outer Banks. The ultimate summer hang-out spot for some guaranteed wild moments. Even if you could point out every Kook, Touron, or us Pogues from the Cut, it was usually a good time. You never know what’s gonna happen on any given night, but you are sure to find people from all walks of life on this island congregating and partying. This is where you found yourself tonight, at a kegger ready to forget the responsibilities you held at least just for the night. The air was warm, and the party's noise swam through your ears, drowning out any reservation you usually have for yourself. You wanted to drown in this wave of overwhelming senses. The crackles from the fire, the music you swayed to, the sounds of people mingling and cheering, it swallowed you whole as you finished off another cup of bitter liquid. Was this your third or fourth cup from the keg? You don’t really remember anymore, but nor do you care. All that mattered is you were loosening the jaw you had tightened all day and was forgetting about the pressures you were facing at home. Nothing here mattered more than being free.

At this point, you had more than a buzz going on, but nothing was stopping your fun just yet. You clumsily weaved in and out of people working your way back to the keg ready for another round. You usually never drank alone, but tonight you weren’t in the mood for friends. At least that’s what you told yourself. In actuality, everyone you hit up to come tonight ghosted you or had some lame excuse as to why they couldn’t come. So you bravely chose to go as a one-woman show ready to conquer the party on your own. Never thinking that this night would lead you down a rabbit hole, you would never be prepared for. Stumbling forward lost in your thoughts, you slur your words to the tall and tan brown-haired boy with his button down shirt half-open handing out drinks from the keg.

“Hey man, hand me a refill, yeah?” Your sloppy words spill out of your mouth, letters all jumbled together barely coherent to the untrained ear.

The brown-haired boy looked at you a tinge of concern in his eyes as you were visibly wasted and clearly on your own tonight. You don’t know why it mattered. It’s not like everyone else wasn’t just as sloshed as you were.

“Uh, you sure you can handle another one, you look… well, you look pretty faded.” 

The boy’s sentiment meant well, but it did nothing but annoy you. Why did everyone think they had to take care of you? Don’t they know you are beyond capable of doing so yourself? You work your ass off to keep everything in line, you can cut loose every once and awhile. Your inner voice of reason started to rear its ugly head, briefly reminding you how utterly irresponsible you were being. Listen to the boy, go home. You don��t need this. Stop acting so tough you aren’t that strong. It’s okay to feel the way you do. Quit while you’re ahead.

Quickly shoving the paranoia that began to rise in your chest, you knew if you could still feel the panic, then you weren’t drunk enough. Looking back at the boy, he was still eyeing you hesitantly when you finally sharpened your tongue and spoke again.

“Please, I know how to handle myself, pretty boy. I’m just living a little is all.” The attitude in your voice is far from pleasant.

Why were you so rude to the kind boy who clearly was watching out for your well-being? You should have listened to him. You shouldn’t have drunk this next cup. Maybe it was just the catalyst for the events that proceeded to perspire.

“Listen just… just gimme a refill, and I’ll be on my way. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about me. I can handle myself, I swear.” While you wanted to sound sure of yourself and maybe even a bit assertive, you could tell he didn’t take you seriously at all.

Your amplified brash persona needed work clearly as it fooled no one while you were blurring the lines of reality and fantasy with each drink you took. The boy looks at you, and the small line starting to form behind you. He sighs to the side as he fills a cup with the amber liquid, finally obliging to your commands to avoid further conflict. While handing you the cup, he speaks once more before you swivel on your heels.

“ Hey, listen... if you need someone to bring you home later or whatever, just come find me. The names John B.”

You stood there bewildered for a moment, unsure why someone would have concern over you. You were just a drunk partygoer at the beach for some fun, why did it seem like you were so different than the others around you? You could take care of yourself you always have, but regardless it was a kind gesture. You felt a pit in your gut for being rude to him moments ago. You couldn’t answer him, you just looked in his eyes and shook your head with a softened smile. Hoping he would understand, you appreciated his offer.

New drink in hand, you stumbled to a clear spot on the beach and plopped yourself down into the ground. Removing your sandals, you buried your toes in the soft sand closing your eyes, taking a swig of your drink. You felt the air on your skin as you leaned your head back. A new sense of calm washed over your body as you faded into the scenery. Sip by sip, you felt all your grievances escape your mind. Nothing would stop you from releasing your mind tonight even if it tried to crawl it’s way back up the hole you shoved it down. If each sip of liquid kept the beasts at bay for just a moment, the tranquility you felt was worth every bit of hell you’d wake up to tomorrow.

You broke me down

So you could take me out

Lost in thought, you lay your body back into the sand, staring up at the stars in a dazed state. Not noticing the pair of eyes that have been watching you for quite some time. From a distance, a seemingly put-together boy traced his eyes along your body. Staring at every curve, every feature, watching every action you took, he knew he had to talk to you. What better time to make a move when you were finally alone, away from the hustle and bustle of the kegger and laying out on the beach staring up at the sky. 

He’s been keeping an eye on you all night, watching you get more faded with each sip of every drink you took. Alone at a party, you don’t see that often around here. Everyone always pairs up fast, even if you did arrive alone. You well, you were different. Something about you drew this clean-cut boy to you, and he wasn’t quite sure why. Something about your solitude reminded him of something he couldn’t quite place a finger on. Or maybe it was how he watched you spiral, falling with no safety net beneath you. He decided tonight he would be the safety net, he would catch you, even if you didn’t ask.

“Hello, beautiful…” A voice speaks out, startling you as your eyes crash open. A light chuckle passes the boy’s lips at your shock. 

“Sorry, darling, didn’t mean to startle you.” He smiles, flashing his gorgeous white teeth at you. “I saw you over here alone and thought you could use some company.”

You blink a few times, trying to focus your blurred vision. A boy whose outline was hazy hovers over you, still smiling that bright smile. However, something felt underlying off about his sheer confidence. It wasn’t much longer until you put two and two together. The boy in the salmon-colored polo shirt and the khaki shorts that stared into your eyes was the infamous Kook prince himself, Rafe Cameron.

Any other day of the week, you’d loathe the boy in front of you, he always caused trouble for anyone who came from the Cut. He bathed in his arrogance and condescending words. So why has the prince of Kooks wandered his way over to you was the million-dollar question. One that you’re not sure you’ll ever get the answer to.

You lifted yourself into a sitting position and still have yet to speak a word to the polished boy in front of you. He speaks once more, trying to pry words from your mouth with every smooth sentence he spoke.

“Aw come now, a gorgeous face like that shouldn’t be scowling by her lonesome. Let me join you, they always say misery loves company.” The tip of the boy’s tongue brushes his top lip as a sly smirk pricks the side of his mouth.

You cock your eyebrow up, but still, motion for the boy to sit next to you. You didn’t think you were scowling, but the more you focused your mind, it became clear you weren’t suppressing any of the facial expressions you thought you were. The alcohol tore down your mask a little more than you would have liked. 

You finally spoke to the boy poised next to you, studying the side of your face. “Who says I’m miserable, what if I just want the company?”

A chuckle passes his lips, he knew he had his hooks in you now. You turn and face Rafe, knowing full well that engaging with him is a terrible idea, but sometimes you craved a little danger in your life. Danger, like getting involved with a Kook named Rafe Cameron, would entail. If it distracted you even just for the night then why not go all out, he was looking rather charming tonight.

“Ah, well, aren’t we all a little miserable? I mean, no one’s perfect, right?” His breathy words cause the curiosity inside you to rise. 

Was the always well kept and confident Rafe Cameron telling you he and his Kook lifestyle wasn’t perfect? 

 It had to be the alcohol talking. It’s burning through your veins, making you actually consider speaking to someone so deviously pristine. Part of you believed it was to forget your troubles, the other part wondered what lies beneath the surface of the self-proclaimed prince. The more you gazed at him, the more sweetness you saw, but it wasn’t just that. There was something else about Rafe that you couldn’t quite put your finger on, but maybe you two had more in common than you thought.

“Please, Rafe, don’t give me your pity party parade. People like you don’t know real misery.”

“On the contrary little dove, he who you see before you has many layers, my rips, and tears, however, are patched up and easily hidden. Yours, however… well, yours are prominent and hanging by threads.”

Ouch. There is the haughty personality that you knew would peek out eventually. The sting of his words appeared on your face as he tries to console the wounds he inflicted.

“Everyone is tattered and worn little dove; it’s how you patch those tears that matter.”

“What are you getting at here, Rafe? Cause it seems to me, despite how sweet you think your sentiment is, you just don’t know how to truly console someone you see as lesser than you.” You want to keep your annoyance you have with Rafe, but with each comment and... and that nickname, he cracks your shell a little bit more.

“I don’t believe you are less than me beautiful, I just…” He sighs. “You’re right, I’m not good at consoling others.” He pauses briefly before he continues, knowing he has to bring himself down a level or he won’t get anywhere with you.

“How’s this then… how about instead of talking we just keep each other company? You don’t even have to speak to me if you don’t want to, though I’d prefer it if you did.” A small wink is shot your way.

“We aren’t just gonna sit here in silence Rafe, I don’t want that kind of company.”

“Well… then how about we ditch the sand and trade it in for something a little more… luxurious?”

There it was, the danger you felt. An offer from Rafe Cameron to go, god, knows where to do god knows what. It excited you, the unknown world of Rafe. You hesitated, unsure if you were ready to fully plunge yourself into forbidden territory, but there it was again. The panic rising in your chest, the thoughts and stress you wanted to escape creeping up again, threatening to attack if you let them linger too long. With that, you took your red cup and downed the remainder of its contents, pushing back your burdens once more. 

Looking into Rafe’s eyes, there was a sparkle of chaos hidden deep within his soft gaze. It made you weak, it made you yearn for something more than this party at the Boneyard. With that, your decision was made. You gave him a smile and shook your head, trying to contain the eagerness you suddenly felt.

This is isolation

Kept in the dark and waiting

You're wearing the crown of kingdoms I created

Now I can't escape it

All of the light is fading

Rafe was up in seconds, extending his hand down to you; an almost menacing smirk overtook his face. As you clasp your hand into his and you’re brought to your feet, you stumble into his side, gripping tighter to keep your balance. Rafe was quick to slide his free arm around your waist, steadying you.

“I got you little dove, lean on me. I won’t let you fall.”

His sweet like honey words swallowed you now. A flush of red kisses your cheeks. Was it his promise to not let you fall or was it the nickname he spoke to you that made your head swirl more than the alcohol ever could, you weren’t sure, but you wished the feeling wouldn’t stop.

It wasn’t long before you were in Rafe’s car and driving who knows where, but what you did know was the excitement you felt was overwhelming your fear. 

“Where are we going?”

“I’m going to show you what a real party is like, beautiful.”

The compliments he kept spewing towards you, a simple Pogue girl, was astonishing. You never believed a Kook like Rafe would see you as anything but a “dirty Pogue.”

“Can I ask a question?” You turn your head towards the boy.

“Of course, little dove. Anything.” He places his free hand on your bare thigh and a light squeeze follows it.

The shiver sent down your spine, tantalized your thoughts. You no longer could think straight. He glances over to you, a smirk once more gracing his lips.

“Why little dove? I- I mean, why are you calling me that?”

“Well, I thought that was obvious, darling? You know my name, but I still have yet to learn yours.”

Your face drops at the realization that you never indeed introduced yourself to Rafe. Of course, you knew who he was, everyone knew who he was, but you? You were no one. Of course, he didn’t know your name.

“O-oh my god, I’m sorry I didn’t even realize I didn’t... uhh,” you chuckle nervously at your idiocy. “The names (Y/N).” You spit out between nervous breaths and awkward giggles. The alcohol was still strong in your system.

A light, almost innocent laugh passes his lips, looking over to you. “It’s okay (Y/N), I don’t mind giving a beautiful girl a nickname that suits her.” He winks. “In fact, I think you’re stuck with little dove from now on… if you don’t mind, of course.”

You hadn’t realized the car had come to a stop in front of a vast mansion. The architecture was beautiful and symmetric with white pillars on the outside. Perfectly kept flowered hedges and trimmed grass graces the front yard. It was like a picture, pristine and undamaged.

“I-I don’t mind no… not at all.” You smile sheepishly towards the boy as he turns the key and shuts the ignition off.

“Well, here we are… are you ready for a real party?” He asks, stepping out and quickly meeting you at the passenger side. Opening the door, he offers you his hand once more.

Taking his hand, you lean once more on his side, steadying your balance. Unsure where the night is about to guide you. Despite the pristine image outside the house once in the door, the whole feeling has changed. There were Kooks everywhere, and to say you felt a little out of place was an understatement. Loud music blared through the open rooms filled with people drinking, smoking, laughing, and smiling. Much like at the Boneyard, but the atmosphere was entirely different. 

Rafe sensed your new-found hesitation, but he wasn’t about to let you slip away. Not when he finally had you where he wanted. Pulling you closer to his side, he whispers into your ear—his warm breath causing you to gasp slightly at his now lower smooth tone.

“Relax… you can trust me.”

All you could do was shake your head. You weren't quite sure how this boy made you so weak at the knees, but you wanted to believe him, so you did.

He paraded you through the party, introducing you to the skeptical Kooks whose eyeballs felt like daggers in your chest. Their disdain and judgment of you unspoken with you wrapped around Rafe’s side.

Finally, on the last stop of the tour de la Cameron, he brought you through a room that outlooked towards the pool area. He brings you up towards a smaller group of people. Two of which you recognized as Rafe’s loyal posse. Topper and Kelce.

“Hey what’s up my man, where have you been all night?”

They exchange greetings and eyeball his new hip attachment IE you. They look over to Rafe with enigmatic smiles spread across their face, but before they could say anything to you, the boy spoke.

“Boys this is (Y/N), she came to experience what real luxury is like. So I expect her to be treated like the best guest of honor she is.”

Topper and Kelce share a glance and shrug off the ideas of Rafe, bringing a Pogue to their side of the island. They figured he had other intentions behind his new side piece. 

“Right well welcome (Y/N) I hope you’re ready for some real fun.” The boys gleamed their fakest grins towards you.

Rafe pulls you over and sits you down next to him, a clear glass table in front of you. The other two boys sit across from you. After a seemingly relaxed conversation, he claps his hands together and lets out an excited laugh.

“Alright, boys, the real fun begins.” Looking over to you, he releases your hand that you’ve been holding and pulls out a small plastic baggy with a white substance inside. He makes quick work of the substance cutting out four clean and tight lines onto the table. Rolling a dollar bill into a cylinder, he passes it over to Kelce. 

The muscular boy leans towards the table cylinder in hand against one nostril while he plugs the other. In one swift movement, the white powder was gone, and he passed the bill over to Topper. He quickly follows suit. Both the boys cheer out a sudden burst of euphoria that rattles their bodies. Looking on to Rafe as he was up next.

You pulled at his arm in shock at the site you’re seeing unravel in front of your eyes. He could see the worry written all over you.

“Don’t worry darling, a little blow never hurt anyone.” He pats your head, running his hand down your hair, and leans over and plants a kiss onto your cheek.

The sudden physical affection made you swoon as you bite your lower lip, still looking at him with concern in your eyes.

“I-I don’t know about this, Rafe.”

“Shhh, just watch it’ll be fine.”

He lowers his abdomen down with haste cleaner and faster than the previous boys; the powder is gone. Almost as if he’s done this regularly. Maybe Rafe Cameron wasn’t lying to you earlier. Perhaps he really was hiding an unseen misery. Your heart suddenly ached for the boy as he leaned up and pinched his nostrils a few times, sniffing back the remnants of the content he just consumed.

“It’s your turn beautiful. This will clear out all that misery from earlier, I promise.” He extends the rolled-up bill to you, his eyes darting down your body, trying to read your response.

You don’t speak. You just stare at him, and the boys across from you obnoxiously chuckle.

“Come on (Y/N) you’re a Pogue you should be used to this shit on the Cut.”

“Where’s your courage, girl?”

The boys tease as Rafe shoots them a glare, silencing them immediately. You reach out your hand shakily towards the rolled-up bill. Questioning why you’re even considering this. His words from earlier echo in your head, ‘you can trust me.’

“It’s easy, I promise I’ll even help you. Trust me, you’ll feel like you’re on top of the world. Once you’re there, the real party begins.”

“I-I’m scared.” You whisper to Rafe as he pulls you closer.

“No reason to be scared sweetheart, I got you. Remember, I won’t let you fall.” His hand cups the side of your face. His eyes looking deep into yours so soft and sweet as he's gently stroking your cheek with his thumb.

You take a deep breath, reminding yourself you wanted to live a little. You wanted this freedom, this danger. So it was now or never. You leaned down as Rafe bends to help you. The boy pressed one of your nostrils closed and instructed you to snort in fast and move down the line. You shake your head, confirming to him you were ready.

“Come on, little dove… let’s fly.” These were the last words you remember hearing as you snorted your first line of blow. Rafe cooing to you as you faded out. 

This isn't trust

This is manipulation

Taglist: @pit-zuh 

(Tbh I wanted to tag a few other mututals but I’m nervous so sorry!)

Part Two coming soon-ish?

#Rafe Cameron #Rafe Cameron x Reader #Drew Starkey #Rafe Cameron Fanfiction #JJ Maybank #JJ Maybank x Reader #Outer Banks #OBX #Outer Banks Fanfiction #JJ x Reader #Rafe X Reader #OBX Fanfiction #Song Fanfic #Rudy Pankow #JJ Outer Banks #JJ OBX #Rafe OBX #Rafe x y/n #Rafe x you #JJ x y/n #JJ x you #John B #John Booker Routledge #Pogues #Kooks #Kooks vs Pogues #Rafe Outer Banks #Outer Banks Netflix #Rafe Fanfiction #JJ Fanfiction

[generallynerdy]

Maybe it does all add up to a single hush (Kanan Jarrus/Cal Kestis)

Summary: 15 years after the Fall, 10 years after the death of Caleb Dume, Kanan Jarrus and Cal Kestis find each other again.

Warnings: Jedi: Fallen Order Spoilers, Implied/Referenced Character Death, cursing, brief suicidal ideation/thoughts Word Count: 5,143

Author’s Note: the effort I had to put in not to make this another series...I had to stage an intervention for myself. Anyway, I love Cal and Kanan’s dynamic, whether as partners or as friends, and an Idea struck me that wouldn’t leave. Also, idk how old most people think Cal was when the war ended based on JFO clips, but I always just kind of went with him being the same age as Kanan at the end of the war bc I love them and I need them to know each other. The title is from the poem “So They Say— They Finally Nailed— The Proton’s Size— & Hope— Dies—” by Rosebud Ben-Oni.

Read On AO3

*

When the hard part is over, Cal returns to Bracca, his new lightsaber tucked under Cere’s old robe that still smells like the Temple, with the intention of burning Prauf’s body.

Caleb still had his own robe. He kept it in the deepest part of their shared closet, bringing it out only on the worst days. If Prauf saw it, he never mentioned it, and both boys were grateful for it. There was a lot he didn’t mention.

Cal thinks, sometimes, that Prauf knew who they were before. After all, it’s hard to look at two abandoned kids in the wake of the Clone Wars that can survive being riggers and not think of the thousands of Jedi younglings that died on Empire Day. It’s even harder to ignore two lightsabers and one ratty, brown robe.

Maybe Prauf wasn’t sure.

But he had to be, on that last day, when they found that fighter. When Cal caught him with the Force. He knew then, maybe before. But he still took care of them.

Maybe he knew when the Empire showed up, when Caleb heard the roar of a TIE Fighter and looked instantly to the redheaded boy beside him like he was about to die before his eyes. Maybe that was the moment he put it all together. Or was it his last moment? When the world began to go dark and both Cal and Caleb lashed out in fury at his killers with matching, bright blue blades—did he know? Did he know that he died for the children of an already dying Order?

Standing over the bonfire, Cal holds the Holocron in shaky hands.

Did Prauf know his sacrifice would save the life of every child just like them?

Cal moves away from the flames to the gap in the ground that they’d held Caleb over, his calloused hands clawing at the Ninth Sister, who clutched his throat.

Deep in Cal’s heart, he knows half the reason he beat her was for his best friend. He’d almost given in to rage but stopped himself at the memory of him. Revenge is not the way of the Jedi. But justice is. And so is survival, these days.

Caleb’s lightsaber fell long before he did. When he did fall, he went screaming bloody murder, the noise echoing in the silence that rang in Cal’s ears.

Standing at the edge now, Cal almost considers simply...stepping off.

He can survive it. He has before. And what’s to say that Caleb isn’t waiting at the bottom?

Caleb...used to like animals, he remembers. He preferred them to plants, which are unreadable if you don’t have practise with them. Animals, like people, are complex but tell you in simple terms what they want and what they don’t want. Cal has always been better with plants. They’re simple, grounding, natural. Caleb used to tease him for it.

The only plant he ever managed to grow on this place was a seedling in a boot filled with dirt he kept in their room. It had been making good progress in their last weeks, enough that he’d actually felt some semblance of hope.

And then...and then he’d lost everything. Again.

The Holocron burns in his hand, reminding him that there is more in store for him than an endless chasm. Hundreds of thousands of Force-sensitive children are depending on him now, him and the Mantis crew.

Cal lets out a shaky breath. “I couldn’t save you,” he whispers to the wind. “But maybe I can save them.”

On the way back to the Mantis, he turns around to go find the robe and the plant in its boot. The robe smells like blaster fire and the plant is wilting but both are comforting: one because it’s familiar and the other because it’s not quite gone yet.

*

Kanan changes his name.

It doesn’t feel right, hearing his given name from anyone that isn’t Cal or Prauf. The first and only time it happens, nausea sinks in and he quickly makes the change.

Some days, he wants to go back to Bracca. Some part of him still hopes Cal survived the Inquisitors, that he’s waiting for him back at what used to be home, but the logical part of him knows that he’s not. Kanan surviving was a miracle, a fluke, and those don’t happen twice. Sometimes he wishes it had never happened at all.

He managed to save his lightsaber, as broken to bits as it was. It and the necklace Cal gave him are all he has now.

Kanan doesn’t let himself grieve, as much as he knows he needs to. He hardly did it before, on Bracca, but now he won’t allow even a tear. Surviving is the only thing on his mind, though for what he doesn’t know.

When he almost loses that little piece of metal on a string, though, he breaks down sobbing.

It’s the stupidest thing, really. All those lessons on attachment are lost on him now, as he cries over the rusted symbol of the Jedi Order on a piece of scrap metal that Cal had put on a cord for him. He keeps it close to his heart, hanging off his neck every hour of every day if he can help it, and getting that close to losing it is the last straw.

He knows now, why he’s surviving. Because Cal would want him to.

Meeting Hera is a relief. She’s kind but curious, which is more of a bane than it should be.

(Painfully, he’s reminded of himself as a youngling. His Master always said his frequent questions were what drew her to him.)

She’s the first to know about his past, both as a Jedi and a rigger on Bracca. He doesn’t think to mention Caleb, doesn’t think it would matter to anyone, not until after a mission gone bad.

Hera is putting bacta on his wounds and graciously ignoring his constant wincing when she sees it.

She points to the cord after examining what hangs on it for a minute. “For someone who’s trying to be discreet, you wear a lot of Jedi stuff.”

Kanan snorts. “Yeah, well, I won’t get rid of this one.”

“It’s important to you,” she points out. “Can I ask why?”

He hesitates, swallowing roughly. “My best friend gave it to me...on Bracca, befo-before the Inquisitors caught up to us,” he admits. “He didn’t make it.”

Her eyes are full of empathy, something she never lacks. “What was his name?”

“Cal,” he says, voice quiet. “Cal Kestis.”

“If you remember his name,” she promises, “he’ll always be with you.”

It’s not so much a Twi’lek belief as it is her own but it reminds Kanan of Grey more than anyone else. His buir. The clones subscribed to many Mandalorian beliefs, including the echoing of remembrances for the dead. Before the abrupt end of the war, little Caleb used to say his every morning with his Master and buir.

So, he decides to start again. It’s difficult, at first, to even get through the first names, his oldest names.

“Depa Billaba,” he says through tears in the quiet of pre-dawn, “Grey, Styles, Prauf...”

He stops.

It’s hard to think, even harder to say, but he knows he needs to. He needs to tell himself the truth, needs to accept the truth.

“Cal—”

He sobs, shaky and painful. His throat burns just like it did when he fell down the chasm on Bracca, screaming his head off, part out of fear for himself but mostly for fear of what was happening to Cal above him. It hurts to speak it into the world, into the Force and those marching on. Cal is among them now, he knows. He just...has to admit it.

“Cal Kestis,” he finally says, the admission wobbly and half-hearted.

He never loses the necklace again.

*

They’ve finally settled on Bogano, after wiping every trace of it from Imperial data servers. The Holocron is safely locked away in the Vault, guarded by their crew and the Binog, fondly called ‘the big guy,’ mostly by fault of Greez.

Though mostly self-sufficient, occasionally some of them will leave the planet for supplies they can’t make themselves. While off on supply runs, well, they can’t help it if some Imperials just look like easy pickings. Apparently, slavers get the same treatment because Merrin ends up a figure in some sort of oral tradition of a Tatooine family, which Cal finds hilarious. Cere is not so amused and grounds them—literally, in that they can’t leave Bogano—for over a month.

Cal spends most of it repairing old platforms and ziplines, not to mention entertaining the Boglings.

They’re fond of him, for some reason, and BD-1, who loves to run around with them while Cal works. One in particular, named Rabid by Merrin after she stole her entire plate of food, is especially loveable.

Cal snickers as he pulls Rabid off his shoulder. “I have to finish this, then I can play.”

Rabid is not pleased with his answer, nibbling at his trousers.

“Rabid,” he chides, ignoring her in favour of his work. He laughs again. “I used to know somebody who would’ve loved you, annoying as you are.”

BD, who has taken Rabid’s place, beeps curiously.

Cal’s face falls a little. He pauses in his work. “Oh. I guess I’ve never told you about Caleb, huh?”

The little droid shakes his head.

Cal never intended to talk about Caleb to anyone, really, but it all comes pouring out. He tells BD and Rabid all about his old best friend, his confidant. The story is a long one, reaching from the creche all the way to Bracca and its bitter end. By the time he’s finished, his voice is quiet and hesitant, his grief echoing through.

Rabid curls up in his lap, nudging his hand, while BD sits in front of them, tilting his head.

A little light on the side of his scope says that he’s recording. He does that a lot, Cal knows, for prosperity, just like he was programmed to. Cal doesn’t mind, really.

When he finishes, BD gets his attention by chirping.

“Huh? You have something to show me?”

BD’s projector whirrs to life and a blue image appears. It’s Cordova, again, but not a video this time. It’s only a holo, of him and another Jedi—Master Jocasta Nu, Cal realises. Master Cordova is dead asleep on her shoulder and she’s leaned over to kiss his brow.

“Oh,” Cal breathes out, something jarring in his chest.

BD-1 thinks that he and Caleb were—well, were like that.

“I—” he pauses. “I dunno, buddy. I never asked him if...but I think…”

Well. It’d be a stretch to say Cal loved him, but he certainly cared for him more than he ever did anyone else. When they were thirteen and stupid, he might’ve said he had a crush on him. After the Fall, on Bracca, he just...didn't think of it. Caleb was all he had and he clung but he never...thought about what it was, thought about what they were.

It hurts to think of now, all that he missed.

“I don’t know if I did,” Cal tells BD quietly. “But I think I- I think I could have.”

BD asks about Caleb a lot, after that. Maybe he can tell that talking about him makes Cal happy. The others know about the one he lost but they don’t ask. They all have their demons and Cal’s are just...just too great to pile on another person. BD, though, is a little easier. All he wants is to see Cal smile again.

*

“What’s this?”

Kanan doesn’t think to look up at whatever Ezra—the newest addition to the Ghost crew—has swiped from him, until he notices a weight missing from his neck. His head snaps up to where a cord hangs from Ezra’s hand.

“Give that back,” Kanan growls, not meaning to be so aggressive.

Ezra’s eyes widen. He holds it out immediately, dropping it into Kanan’s open hand. “Sorry,” he mutters, watching curiously as Kanan puts it back on.

Almost by instinct, Kanan tucks the piece of scrap metal back under his shirt and breathes out a sigh of relief. He goes back to his datapad. Then, a moment later, when he notices the entire room is still silent, he looks up. Sabine and Zeb have joined Ezra in staring incredulously.

“What?” Kanan asks, his voice back to normal.

“I’ve never seen you that mad before,” Sabine admits with a half-shrug, though her eyes betray her concern.

Zeb nods, arms crossed. “And I’ve never seen you without that thing on your neck.”

“Yeah, you even sleep with it!” Ezra adds. “What’s up with that?”

“I—” He goes to make an excuse but stops, his hand fidgeting with the necklace.

“You don’t have to…” Sabine starts to say, but he shakes his head.

He sighs. To be honest, he’s surprised Zeb and Sabine haven’t asked before. “My best friend gave it to me.”

Ezra immediately sits down across from him, eyes wide. “Another Jedi?”

Admittedly, the kid is a lot like he used to be: always asking questions, always pushing. It’s going to get him in trouble someday but for now, it just gets him more stories out of Kanan, stories about the Jedi.

“Yeah. Yeah, another Padawan. We grew up in the Temple together.” He smiles, a fickle and fleeting thing. “He was picked by a Master before me, so we were separated...at the end. But I found him again, on the planet he was last assigned. He gave me this.”

Ezra’s face is bright, curious. Sabine, on the other hand, looks prepared for a gut-punch.

“What happened to him?” she asks quietly.

Kanan exhales sharply, ruefully. “Inquisitors. After 5 years of nothing, they came out of nowhere. I never saw what happened to him. For all I know, they still have him.”

“Oh,” Ezra says, his face falling.

“You know, Zeb,” Kanan begins, not wanting to make things any sadder, “his Master was a Lasat.”

He scoffs. “No way.”

“He was, swear it on my life!” he claims, raising a hand. “First time I saw you, I thought Master Tapal came back to haunt me for being a bad influence.”

Zeb snickers. “Bad influence? You?”

“Eh, a nudge here and there. We were not good kids.”

He tells them a few stories before Sabine and Zeb are called away by Hera and Chopper, leaving Ezra and Kanan alone. Ezra makes to follow them but stops, his expression cautiously blank.

“What is it, Ezra?” Kanan asks, already knowing that he’s brimming with curiosity.

“You said he was...your best friend?”

He frowns. “Yeah, ever since we were kids. Why?”

“I dunno. The way you talked about him just reminded me of my parents,” Ezra admits hesitantly. “Sappy. Did you—?”

Kanan sighs, touching his necklace again.

He had always been more reckless than Cal, back then. He threw himself into everything, into every situation. No matter the problem or the person, he was all-in. No matter what. And that included Cal. Once he took that step, he was karked. Before he knew it, he was hanging onto the redhead’s every word.

Cal was...different. Kanan had known that for a long time but the war only brought it out.

Kanan had a stupid crush, that was all. But on Bracca, it was everything and more.

He’d known then, known for a long time. Cal had never seen it but he didn’t have to. Kanan was fine the way things were. It didn’t feel right, bringing things up after...well, after. So Cal never knew.

(Sure, he could see the past of things with a single touch of his hands but he’d always been pretty oblivious.)

“Love him?” Kanan asks, raising an eyebrow.

Ezra nods.

It’s without hesitation that he answers. “I did.”

When they go in search of Master Luminara, Kanan’s kids buy him a precious few minutes to search for a Cal Kestis in the prisoner logs. He’s not there, of course, but Kanan thinks he prefers that to a death certificate.

*

“Ho-oly shit,” Greez says over comms one day. “You guys better get up here.”

Cal shares a look with Cere, following her out of the workshop with BD on his shoulder. Merrin has already teleported to Greez’s side when they arrive, lightsabers in hand. Greez passes the young man—not so young anymore, Cere has commented teasingly as he desperately shaves away any trace of his age—a pair of electrobinoculars.

Squinting through the scope, he spies a trail of smoke on the horizon attached to a ship.

“Kriffing hells,” Cere says after she gets a look.

In all their 10 years here, no one has ever landed—or crashed, for that matter—on the planet. The few ships that have come into orbit were Imperial and always quickly dealt with before word could get out. This one, however, isn’t exactly your standard Imperial cruiser. And it’s wrecked.

“Looks like a modified VCX-100 light freighter to me,” Greez says. “It’s a nice ship.”

Merrin rolls her eyes. “Are we waiting for them to come to us?”

“Looks like we don’t have to,” Cere declares, still looking through the binocs. “They’re headed this way, six hostiles. Three humans, a Lasat, a Twi’lek, and a droid.”

Greez laughs. “A Lasat? We’re kriffed.”

“Says you,” Merrin snorts.

“I’m with her,” Cal agrees, a cocky smile on his face. “Merrin and I will take the Vault. Cere, Greez, take home. BD will lure the big ones our way.”

“You got it, kid.”

Cere puts a hand on his shoulder before he can follow Merrin—more or less, seeing as she just teleports everywhere. “Be careful.”

The worst part of intruders is that even the hypothetical good ones can’t know Bogano is here. They’ll have to knock them out hard enough for their memories to be spotty and dump them in a nearby system if they’re smart—and they are.

Cal slips on his robe, a gift from Cere, and flips the hood up, making for the Vault.

If these visitors think they can take the Holocron, they have another thing coming.

*

“Are you sure we can find help here?” Ezra asks for the third time as they approach the massive building in the distance. “It looks...deserted.”

Hera sighs for the third time. “Scanners said there were signs of life here in a higher concentration than the rest of the planet. It’s worth checking out.”

Sabine gestures through the mild fog. “There’s buildings up ahead.”

“Good, let’s head there,” Kanan says, a cautious hand on his lightsaber.

Hopping across platforms is a pain, but they all manage to make their way to what looks like a residential area. A small path digs into the ground, leading deeper inside the planet’s crust. With a look at her second in command, Hera starts toward it. However, she stops when Kanan freezes.

“Do you feel that?” he asks suddenly, squinting as he looks into the distance.

Something is...tugging at him. Something in the Force is insistent that he go...that way. The feeling of incompleteness settles inside his chest.

“No…” Ezra replies uneasily. “What is it?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know.” After a moment, he decides. “I think I should go this way. You guys go on ahead.”

Zeb scoffs. “I’ll go with you. We don’t know who lived here. Could be Inquisitors for all we know.”

“They generally prefer places with lava,” Ezra counters.

The group splits, with Hera leading Sabine, Chopper, and Ezra into the abode. She and Sabine have their blasters raised, while Ezra keeps a hand on his lightsaber. Chopper is always ready to give someone a nasty shock.

“Anyone home?” Sabine calls.

There’s no answer.

They come across a small kitchen and dining room, where two chairs are pulled out. Over one hangs a small, ratty brown robe with multiple blaster burns.

Ezra plucks it off the back of the seat. “Woah, cool,” he breathes. “Very Jedi-like, huh?”

“Leave it, Ezra,” Hera chides fondly.

“You’d best,” says another voice.

All three of them jump as a lightsaber hums to life. Double-bladed, the weapon burns bright white throughout the room, illuminating its bearer, a woman with dark skin and hair, and her companion.

“Inquisitor!” Ezra cries, lighting his own.

The lightsaber wielder’s friend fires off a blaster right at Hera, who’s shoved out of the way by Sabine. Chopper shrieks, his head spinning.

“Look out!”

On the surface, Zeb follows Kanan to the edge of the platform. There, they find a zip line, which they intend to brave before a series of chirps stops them.

Zeb yelps and lifts his rifle when a droid appears, only stopped by Kanan’s raised hand.

It’s...a buddy droid.

“Hey, little guy,” Kanan greets cautiously. “What are you doing all the way out here?”

He beeps excitedly and backs away, indicating that they should follow. With a single leap, he attaches himself to the zipline and whirrs as he zooms all the way down.

“Don’t tell me we’re following the droid,” Zeb groans.

Kanan just smiles. “We’re following the droid.”

Using the Force to balance himself, he leaps atop the zipline and begins to tiptoe his way down. Behind him, Zeb sighs but reaches up to grab the line, following right after him. They land on a platform a good distance away, where a small slope is guarded by two statues; the beings depicted are of an unknown species, one lost to time.

“I don’t like this,” Zeb says as soon as he hops onto the grass. “It’s like the start of a bad horror holo.”

Kanan snorts. “If that were true, it would be raining tookas and massiffs.”

The buddy droid whirrs loudly to get their attention and bounces his way up the sloping path, on top of which sits a fluffy native creature. Kanan doesn’t know what they’re called, but this one is adorable. She chirps at them, much like the droid did.

“Oh, you’re a sweet little thing, aren’t you?” Kanan coos, moving to meet the creature and let her sniff his hand.

She makes a happy noise and nudges him.

“Ugh,” Zeb mutters, “more things.”

The droid and the creature lead them to the entrance of the massive, ancient building that had caught Kanan’s eye from the crash site. He steps in front of Zeb, placing his hand on the runes in the rock as the Force sings. This isn’t what’s calling him, but…

“Something is here,” Kanan whispers.

“I hope it’s not something that wants to eat us,” Zeb says long-sufferingly.

The slab of rock retreats into the space above, leaving an open tunnel of sorts.

“Karabast,” the Lasat curses, “I hate Jedi stuff.”

Kanan rolls his eyes. “C’mon.”

It’s a tight fit, but the two squeeze their way through, Kanan leading the way. They exit into a large cavern filled with a few inches of water, just enough to be annoying. Standing in the midst of the cave is a figure in a brown robe. The moment Kanan spots him, he draws his lightsaber and stands in front of Zeb until he can ready his rifle, too.

“You are not meant to be here.”

Kanan frowns. “The Force says otherwise. Who are you?”

“The guardian of this vault. You need to leave,” the figure says.

From underneath their robe, they draw a very familiar weapon. With a snap and a hiss, two blades of yellow light appear. Kanan lights his own lightsaber in response but it’s too little too late.

A green smoke encompasses Zeb, who yelps as he’s flung across the room by a pissed off Nightsister—which makes zero sense because they’re all supposed to be dead.

Kanan makes for his friend, interrupted only by the mysterious guardian rushing at him.

“Where did you get that lightsaber?” the faceless figure hisses.

And, well, Kanan doesn’t know how to answer that question except with another question. “Where did you get yours? ”

Back in the residential platform, Hera leaps in between Ezra and the lightsaber-wielder. “Wait!” she cries.

Both stop, staring at her like she’s crazy.

“That’s a healed kyber crystal, isn’t it?” Hera asks, pointing to her white blade. “You’re not an Inquisitor. You’re a Jedi.”

The woman lowers her lightsaber just slightly. “I was.”

“I’m one, too!” Ezra chirps, popping out from behind Hera. “Er. I’m training to be one!”

Her eyes widen. “A Padawan? Who’s your Master?”

Before he can answer, Hera speaks for him. “Kanan Jarrus. But his name used to be Caleb Dume.”

“Caleb?” she asks, her voice hushed in awe. “Depa Billaba’s Padawan?”

She nods.

Abruptly, the woman turns sharply on her heel, raising her comm unit to her lips and rushing out the door. “Cal, they’re non-hostiles, non-hostiles! Don’t hurt your boyfriend!”

“What!?” Ezra and Sabine cry at the same time, the former’s voice cracking.

Without another word, they follow her and her friend outside.

*

Merrin has the Lasat out of the Vault long before Cal gets his opponent to the entrance, admittedly. Lightsaber to lightsaber combat is significantly more balanced than Nightsister magick against a bo-rifle, poor guy.

Still, Cal pushes the intruder to the top of the Vault’s slope, the man just on the edge of slipping.

That’s when Cere’s voice crackles through the comms.

“Cal, they’re non-hostiles, non-hostiles! Don’t hurt your boyfriend!”

Hand grasping the intruder’s shirt, holding him above the edge, Cal freezes. He meets brown eyes and suddenly can’t breathe, gaze drifting to the cord around the taller man’s neck. His gloveless fingers just barely skim the material, Force signatures exploding in front of his eyes.

And suddenly, he can see it. He can see himself, painstakingly painting that symbol onto the metal and bartering for a cord. He sees an older Caleb sobbing in the quiet of an unfamiliar room, clutching that necklaces like a lifeline.

“Did you—?”

“Love him? I did.”

A shaky breath passes his lips.

“Caleb?” he asks, voice breaking on the name that’s so unfamiliar on his tongue.

The grip on his wrist loosens.

Kanan hears the woman’s voice, clear as day, but he almost doesn’t believe it at first. He almost doesn’t believe when he hears that whispered question. Caleb. It’s the name of a stranger and yet—yet when that robe’s hood slips off to reveal red hair and bright green eyes, he feels like he’s never known any other name.

“Cal?”

The Force wasn’t calling him to the Vault. It was calling him to its guardian.

Silence falls, the rest of the world fading away. All they’ve been through, all they’ve seen, and it all stops in this moment. It all adds up to this.

Cal lets go of his shirt, letting him balance precariously at the top of the muddy slope down from the Vault. Neither of them speaks—neither of them knows what to feel, except bright, unparalleled joy.

Cal doesn’t let himself flinch when Caleb reaches, his fingers just barely skimming his cheek.

He doesn’t get much further. Green smoke encompasses his body and before Cal knows it, his best friend is being flung from the Vault entrance to the platform beyond, screaming as he goes. The platform beyond, where the Oggdo used to reside, is covered in flowers. It was there that Cal planted his little sapling in a boot and there that the plant spread, covering almost every inch of land with budding blue and yellow flowers.

Cal whirls around to see Merrin, her eyes glowing green.

“Merrin, no!” he protests, eyes wide with desperation. “That’s Caleb!”

Merrin’s glowing fades as she glances at the nearby Lasat and her friend’s horrified face. “My mistake,” she says in that tone that says she knows exactly who he is.

(They were taking too long to speak, in her opinion.)

Cal huffs at her before getting a running start toward the entrance, using the Force to balance himself as he slides down that muddied slope, sailing right toward Caleb. Near the end, he leaps into the air, propelling himself a mere few feet from his collapsed companion.

“Caleb!” he cries, stumbling the last few steps and falling to his knees, where Caleb is face-down in the damp grass, his hair-tie mysteriously missing.

Caleb is—well, he’s okay. He’s just...wheezing with laughter.

He pushes himself up on his elbows and flips over just as Cal makes it to him, his chest heaving with the effort. And still, he laughs, a half-mad sound.

“Are you o—?” Cal is cut off by his own yelp when Caleb flings himself up from the ground and pulls Cal with him.

He embraces the redhead, dragging them both to their feet so he can swing Cal around. Cal shrieks and hitches his legs up on his hips, as difficult as that is with the man’s height—the bastard, he grew. He reaches desperately for Caleb’s shoulders to hold onto when they spin, completely unaware of Cere and the rest of Caleb’s group appearing on the platform.

Finally, Caleb stops, looking up at Cal with shining eyes and a smile that could kill a man. Cal leans forward, letting his forehead fall against his and breathing out a sigh of relief.

“I thought the Inquisitors had you,” Caleb whispers, a thousand more words in the back of his mind, too many to count.

Cal’s eyes well with tears. “I thought you were dead.”

Caleb has always been more reckless than Cal but the latter was the one to hear his words echo through that necklace, an admission years too late. It’s because of that little echo that Cal buries a hand in the hair that falls to his shoulders and pushes his head upward, meeting him in a searing kiss.

Out of shock, Caleb both squeaks—adorable, Cal thinks—and clutches the back of Cal’s shirt for a moment before dropping him. Luckily, his instinct has him landing on his feet.

The drop pulls him away and, looking up, he sees Caleb looking shell-shocked.

He just grins, grabs the taller man’s shirt, and pulls him in for another kiss, this one saying much more than the first. Caleb plants his feet and buries a hand in Cal’s hair for good measure.

They both ignore Greez cackling in the distance and Sabine’s whispered: “What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck —”

Because in that moment, all is right with the galaxy. Cal’s flowers are fully grown and blossoming beneath their feet, Caleb’s robe is waiting for him in the other room, and they have each other again.

And that’s all they’ve ever really wanted, isn’t it?

*

River’s Tags: @hahaboop & @mystoragehatesme

Masterlist

#kanan jarrus x cal kestis #kanan jarrus #cal kestis #kanan jarrus/cal kestis #cal kestis x kanan jarrus #cal kestis/kanan jarrus #sw #star wars #sw fanfic #star wars fanfic #jedi fallen order #jfo #star wars rebels #sw: rebels #river #rivika #generallynerdy

[spencersstrawberryjello]

Potential Lead (Chapter Two)

Chapter Two - You Might Be Right

Previous Chapter < - > Next Chapter

Summary: After a four am call with Spencer, Lex rushes into the local police station to help him out with the case. 

Warnings: Descriptions of graphic violence!!, swearing, mentions of the Tobias Hankel case (season two), and brief mentions of psychotic breaks and mental instability

Word Count: 3433

A/N: Here’s a link to the crime scene diagram that I drew up! (CW: More descriptions of violence, as well as a visual depiction of a map of a crime scene - no actual blood or gore, just red pen and a house floor-plan). On the side I wrote out some further information on cause of death that wasn’t mentioned in the chapter.

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I planned to call Dr. Spencer Reid in the morning to get an update on the case. He said they were speaking with Brian, and I was far too invested in what that scumbag had to say for himself.

What I hadn’t planned for, though, was to receive a call from the very same Dr. Spencer Reid, around four in the morning.

“Lex? Are you up?”

“What the fuck - Dr. Reid? What time is it?”

“Like four or something, I don’t know; listen, I’m sorry to wake you, but I think you might be right.”

“As much as I love to hear that, I’m gonna need you to be more specific.”

“Right about Brian, about your sister, the murder, all of it. I think you might be right.”

“Well shit.” I was fully awake now, sitting up in my bed as I’m sure he paced in front of a whiteboard somewhere downtown.

“Can you come in? Like, to the police station.”

“Now? Dr. Reid, you are aware that it’s four in the morning?”

“Lex, please just call me Spencer. And I know, I know and I’m sorry, but you’re our best lead on this so far. You saw what your sister’s marriage did to the both of you, and you know what you’re talking about. Like I said, I think you’re right. But we need to prove it.”

“What does the rest of your team think about this?” As much as I was already dying to jump back into this mystery, I really didn’t want the wrath of the FBI on my ass.

“They’re at the hotel right now, I couldn’t sleep - I’ll explain everything to them in the morning, but right now I need your help.”

“Spencer… why is this so urgent? What aren’t you telling me?”

“We had to let Brian go.”

“What? That douchebag killed someone and you let him leave?”

“We didn’t have any cause to keep him in holding! We have to let people go after 24 hours -”

“I know how the criminal justice system works, Spencer. Do you think there’s a chance he’ll kill again?”

“I - there’s a chance. Based on some stuff we found at the crime scene -”

That was all I needed to hear. If there was a chance this asshole could kill someone else, I wasn’t going to go back to sleep. “Fucking hell - I’m on my way.”

As much as my exhausted body protested, I practically jumped out of bed, pulling on a t-shirt and some jean shorts before grabbing a jacket and gym shoes and heading out to my car. It was pitch black outside, the streets of Tallahassee surprisingly quiet for a Saturday night. The hot air hit me the second I left my building, and I internally groaned, speeding up my walk to my car so I could reach the safety of the air conditioning.

I sped out of the parking lot, air conditioning cranked despite the lack of sunlight outside. There was a little voice in the back of my head telling me that I should’ve spent more time on this outfit, or put on a bit of makeup, but I pushed it away, filling my head with thoughts of the case instead. Spencer wouldn’t care if I looked a little bedraggled.

Not that I cared what Spencer thought, of course.

The police station was about twenty minutes from my apartment complex, but I got there in fifteen, swinging into the parking lot and shutting off my car before making my way to the front door. I considered knocking, but I wasn’t sure who else was working this late. So I opted to text Spencer instead.

I still had his number from when he called me earlier, and I shot him a quick text to let him know I was here. No less than a minute later, he was at the front door, opening it up to allow me inside.

“Hey - I’m sorry about this, I really shouldn’t have called you so late. Honestly, if you want to go home, I’d understand; I don’t know what I was thinking, there’s no reason to make you -”

“Spencer. You didn’t ‘make me’ do anything. Trust me, if I didn’t want to help, I would’ve told you as much. I’m not one for secrets.”

He smiled a bit, and I offered him a reassuring one back. “Well, I’m still sorry,” He said, “But the case information is all in here. Follow me.”

He led me back through the main hallway that Penelope Garcia had walked me down yesterday, but instead of turning right at the fork to go to the interrogation rooms, he went left, leading me to a series of empty conference rooms. One of them had multiple large rolling whiteboards up against the farthest wall, most of which were covered in pictures and writing. That was the room that he walked towards, before he turned and blocked me from getting through the doorway.

“Ok. So, I know that you know your sister is dead. And I know you know she was most likely murdered by her husband. But… you haven’t seen the crime scene. You haven’t seen exactly why we were called in. We don’t just get called in for regular homicides. There has to be a specific behavioral element, something that would make the local police believe they’d have more luck solving the case if they had a profile on the killer.”

I knew a bit about criminal justice, and behavioral science, from a couple classes I took my senior year of college. But I didn’t know much about the BAU, and the dead serious look on Spencer’s face was making me uneasy.

“So what you’re saying is… this isn’t gonna be pretty.”

“In layman’s terms, yes, this isn’t gonna be pretty. So I want to make absolutely sure that you want to help, that you’re ok with seeing stuff like that. That you’re ok with seeing your sister like that.”

Yes, I fucking hated my sister. But I was still hesitant to enter that room. Spencer could tell, because he followed up with.

“If you’re not comfortable with that, if you’d rather not have those images in your head, you can go home right now and forget I ever called you in here. We’ll update you on the results of the case, and you don’t have to be involved. It’s up to you.”

I shook my head. As hesitant as I was, there was no way I could leave now. I was far too invested. “No, I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure? 100%?”

“Yes, Spencer. I’ll be ok.”

“Ok.” He nodded, turning around and heading into the room, making a beeline for the boards. I followed him, trying to figure out what could possibly be so bad that he would need to give me that kind of warning.

Now, I consider myself to be a pretty tough person. There wasn’t a lot that could phase me, I generally took a ‘go with the flow,’ nonchalant approach to life. But when I saw the crime scene pictures stuck to that board, I felt my face pale.

“Holy… fuck - you really think Brian is capable of this? I mean, he’s a dick, and I can fully believe he’s capable of murder, but… god -”

The pictures in front of me depicted a brutal scene… honestly, I’d never seen anything like it. They centered around one image: my sister, dead, on the kitchen floor. Her body was slumped up against the island, blood pooling around her. The other pictures also showed most of the blood spattered on the lower cabinets across from her body, but it was still pretty much everywhere around her. She appeared to have been stabbed multiple times, and yet, despite all the blood, there wasn’t a single fingerprint, footprint, hair - nothing that could point to the murderer. Nothing that I could see in the pictures, at least. I felt my heart start to pick up as I studied the scene, and I turned away, steadying my breathing and trying to fight back unexpected tears that pricked the corners of my eyes. When I glanced over at Spencer though, he wasn’t even looking at me. He was reading a file in front of him, responding to my question as he read.

“Well, I know that our prevailing theory is that he killed her in a fit of rage. But based on the overkill at the crime scene, I feel like something inside him might’ve snapped when he committed the murder.”

I regained control of my breathing enough to ask, “Like, a psychotic break?”

“Something like that, yeah. Which is why I’m so concerned. With this level of brutality, there’s a high probability that he’s already mentally devolving, and he could potentially go on to target other women who haven’t been able to follow through with their pregnancies.” He put the file down and finally turned to look at me, noticing my expression as I steadied myself on one of the conference table chairs.

“Lex, are you ok?”

“I’m fine. It’s just more gruesome than I expected it to be. I’ll be ok,” I insisted when his face fell, “It just caught me off guard.”

“I know, that’s why I warned you - are you sure you’re alright? Do you want… a hug? Or water, or something? I don’t know -”

I smiled a bit, my heart warming against my will at his concern. But my mind quickly dipped back into a territory that was a familiar distraction, and I smirked.

“As much as I’d love your hands on my body, I think I’ll have to take you up on that offer another time.”

He blushed, and I laughed, taking in a deep breath before returning my attention to the pictures on the board.

“Ok. So, what all do I need to know? Like, what’s going on here? Because from what I can tell, she was stabbed, and this guy - assuming it’s Brian, of course - fucking knows what he’s doing. No fingerprints, footprints, anything?”

“Nothing. The CSI team searched the entire house. The only noteworthy thing that we found were trace amounts of the victim - Sarah, sorry - her blood in the bathroom sink, in the bathroom across the hall from the kitchen. But there’s nothing at the crime scene that can directly connect the crime to anyone specific.”

“So how the hell are we going to prove it’s him?”

“Well, we always try to come into every case with no suspects in mind, so that it doesn’t impact our profile at all. Brian was the police’s prime suspect, he has been since the beginning - the husband almost always is, in these scenarios, unless they have a really good alibi - and I think he looks good for it now, but we didn’t know that when writing this.”

He handed me the file he’d been reading, open to a page that was a written account of their original profile.

“This is where I feel like you can help us most; I mean, you met Brian, didn’t you? Like, you attended their wedding, at the very least?”

“I met him a grand total of one time, at the wedding. I wasn’t in the wedding party, but I met him when I was talking to Sarah. He pretty much avoided me the whole time, which in retrospect, should’ve been a red flag, but I guess I didn’t really notice. When I did talk to him though, he was really rude. Like, he’d give me curt, one word answers, and then directly after disengaging from conversation with me, he’d turn around and start whispering to some of his buddies that were in the wedding party - the best man and all that shit - and gestured towards me. I still have no idea what he was saying, honestly.”

“Perfect - I mean, not perfect that he treated you like that, of course, that’s awful, and I’m sorry; I said ‘perfect’ because it means you can confirm that he matches up with the profile behaviorally. My mind kind of jumped ahead -”

“Spence, calm down. I understood what you meant.”

I felt a blush creep up the back of my neck at the accidental nickname, and I saw the same thing happen to him as we both came to an unspoken agreement to ignore it.

“Right. Ok. Um, anyway, would you mind reading over the profile and seeing if you think it sounds like a good description of him? Since you have the most experience with him outside of an interrogation room.”

I agreed, turning my direction to the profile I had in my hands.

The unsub is most likely male, and based on the overkill at the crime scene, most likely someone with a personal connection to the victim. Based on the disorganized nature of the kill, he is probably younger - late teens to early twenties - and has probably never killed before. However, there is a high probability that he is someone with deep rooted anger issues, and that may have caused him some problems in his life before this. He may have a history of issues at work or school from lashing out over small frustrations, and it’s most likely gotten him in trouble throughout his lifetime. Sarah was small, so it wouldn’t be hard to overpower her, but based on the blood spatter patterns, we do know that the unsub is right-handed, and slightly taller than the victim.

I skimmed the rest of the paper - which just contained concluding notes and instructions for local police - before looking back up at Spencer, who was staring at me as I read.

“It definitely sounds like him. I mean, based on what I know about him at least. Like I said, he generally avoided me - though there was this one time when they first started dating, before Sarah cut me off entirely,” The memory came rushing back to me, and I was shocked I hadn’t thought of it sooner, “I had already gone to my room for the night when I heard her return from a date with him. She was crying. I was going to go ask her what was wrong, but my mom beat me to it, seeing as both of my parents were in the living room watching TV when she got back. I heard her telling them that her and Brian had gotten into an argument. I can’t remember what they were arguing about, but the gist of it was that it was something completely ridiculous. And yet, she was crying like he had really hurt her. My parents were consoling her, so I just went back to bed, but honestly it sounds like he could’ve been aggressive, and that’s why she was so upset - I don’t know anything for sure, I only know what I overheard. But it would make sense.”

“But you’re immediately making assumptions to make him fit the profile; that’s exactly why we don’t go into cases with any suspects in mind. It’s an interesting conversation, and I’m happy you remembered it, but we can’t assume he was being aggressive just because your sister was upset.”

“That’s true… so where does that leave us?” I plopped down in one of the chairs, throwing my feet up on the table and laughing when Spencer gave my action the same look of disgust that he did when I put my feet up in the interrogation room.

“Do you think that he fits the profile?” He asked. I nodded.

“The age is a bit off - he’s 27, so it’s more late than early twenties - but everything else fits what I know about him perfectly.”

“Age is the hardest thing to profile, so it would make sense if that’s a little bit off.”

“So you really think he killed Sarah?”

“I mean, all signs point to him - I feel like we at least need to find a way to keep tabs on him. If he is the killer, then he’s devolving. Despite the lack of evidence at the crime scene, the crime itself would still be classified as disorganized, and disorganized crime scenes usually point to the unsub being more unpredictable, unstable. Like I said, I think he might’ve snapped when he killed your sister. Which means that other people could be in danger.”

“Well if people are in danger, then why don’t you tell the police chief or something? We need to get Brian back in here, or at the very least we need to get someone to stay up to date on his location. I don’t know what you guys have jurisdiction to do.”

“I’m not sure we’re going to be able to get him back in here without any actual forensic evidence… I’m calling Hotch right now. Give me a second - hey Hotch,” He had his phone up to his ear, and he filled Hotch in on his thoughts about the case. He paused his profiling for a minute to defend why he was still awake and working, but after about five minutes he hung up the call, turning back to me.

“The team’s on their way.”

“And they know I’m here?” I had heard him tell Hotch that I was, but I wasn’t sure if he was going to tell everyone else.

“Yes; I’m assuming Hotch will fill them in, at least. Your confirmation of the profile is what made him agree to come in - having Brian as a confirmed prime suspect gives us grounds to move forward.”

I nodded my understanding before asking, “When do you think they’ll be here?”

“The hotel they’re staying at is only about five minutes away - we always try to stay in hotels near the police stations in the cities that we’re staying in, that way we’re able to move quickly if we need to. I mean, there was one time where the team stayed directly at the unsub’s house, but that was an… exception.” His face slowly fell as he finished the sentence, almost as if he regretted saying it, but I was too intrigued to wonder why.

“Directly at the unsub’s house? Holy shit - what happened on that case?”

“Well, uh, I actually got kidnapped?” He phrased it like a statement, but the way he said it sounded more like a question. Probably questioning whether or not he should even be telling me this.

“Oh my god, Spencer, I am so sorry.”

“No no it’s fine, it was about two years ago at this point,” He was trying to shut down the conversation, but I’d be lying if I said that finding out that the man in front of me had been kidnapped wasn’t concerning information.

“Two years is not that long… are you ok?”

“I’m fine. I mean, I’ve gotten counseling… there are still days where I - you know what? My traumatic past isn’t important right now. You - you don’t need to be worrying about me; I’m sorry that I brought it up, I was just talking and not processing what I was saying and -”

“Spence.” He was rambling now, his hands moving quickly as he spoke, anxiety clearly clouding his mind. I grabbed his hands to still them, stopping him from speaking. “It’s ok. I asked what happened, you don’t need to worry about me worrying about you. Honestly, I just wanted to make sure that you were alright, that sounds fucking awful.”

“It was.” He looked like he was going to say something else, but he glanced down at my hands holding his, and cleared his throat, a blush coloring his features as he pulled his hands from mine. “It was. But I really am ok now. Trust me.”

“Ok,” I nodded, trying to ignore the way that my heart stung when he practically ripped his hands from mine, “I’m glad.”

He gave me an awkward tight-lipped smile, something I’d noticed him do a lot, and I was about to start another conversation when I heard the conference room door open. Both of our heads snapped in the direction of the sound, and we turned to see the team pouring in through the door.

“Lex Raymond, I assume?” Hotch asked. I rose from my seat, nodding and accepting the handshake he offered me. The rest of the team took seats around the table, and I noticed multiple of them desperately chugging coffee out of disposable paper cups. Someone passed one up to Spencer, who was standing in front of the board still. I took my seat again, and a man sitting near the back of his table leaned back a bit in his chair before addressing Spencer.

“Alright pretty boy, tell us what you got.”

#criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x mc #fanfiction #writing #fanfic #potential lead #bau #behavioral analysis unit #bau fanfiction #orginal character #spencer reid x gn!mc #spencer reid x gn mc #gender neutral mc #original main character #tw: violence #criminal minds au #lex raymond #aaron hotchner #derek morgan

[faecaptainofdreams]

Decided to re-invigorate myself a bit by indulging in a cute crossover...because Tom Holland <3 This goes way off course from Marvel/the MCU, because...again, this is for me and i like simple and colorful. Whatever, ENJOY. Here's his OG head canon, everything follows almost the same but you may need it for context: www.deviantart.com/foxdragonlo… ---------------------------------------------------------------------- In this universe, superhero-type people aren't overly uncommon, though rarely they actually get the opportunity to use their powers in a work-related sense. It's almost always an accident, and those who intentionally mutate themselves for one reason or another often face a prison sentence due to the dangers to themselves, others, and their disregard for consequence. And yes, there have been many cases where mutations both intentional and accidental have been fatal or severely damaging mentally and/or physically. At the H.T.U.V., there is a special sector of labs dedicated to studying dangerous materials, as well as creatures that accidentally are harmed or mutated by certain substances. With the environment being more heavily prioritized in the world of SiD, the government is very careful to regulate chemicals and try to keep toxins at a minimum. But even in a government agency, there are bound to be people with conflicting morals and human-based error in thinking. ~~Mutation~~ Everything in Walter's life carries out as normal until the Summer when he's 18. With him having barely been working at the agency for a year, but getting pushed more and more aside, the lead scientist in the toxins lab, named Theo Rupert, became curious about Walter. He figured if Walter was so useless in the gadget lab, maybe he had untapped potential for something else, and thus privately invited him to miss a day of work in order to visit the toxins lab. They told him they wondered if he would be interested in this field. Due to his love of animals, his biomechanical genius and natural gifts as a whole, he actually began to consider the idea of working to help save these animals and find healthy ways to eliminate dangerous substances. This conflicted with his current dream job, however, as he ultimately wanted to help people and potentially influence the way the agency did things. During his tour of the labs, Walter felt a small but sharp sting on his neck, but found nothing there. He assumed it was just him being sensitive, or a casual bug bite and moved on. Later that night, the bite became painful, swollen, and grey, disturbingly. Fearing necrosis of his skin and wondering if he really was bitten by something dangerous in the toxins lab, Walter called the lead scientist and told him what he was experiencing. Theo instructed Walter to apply a cold compress to it, and then accept a referral at work the next day to go back to the toxins lab and see him. He also instructed Walter not to tell anyone about the bite until further notice. Walter obeyed, but had a bad feeling. ~~Illegality~~ The next day, Walter did not show up at work. Rather, he had fallen ill -- so much so that he actually called in. Seeing as how he wasn't showing up, a nervous Theo called Walter and asked why he hadn't shown up. Walter answered drearily with "I can't move." Theo and his team of four packed up a suitcase of medical equipment and lied that they had been called out to inspect potentially hazardous material elsewhere in the city. They left in two of their own cars, and switched their cars out before heading to Walter's house so as not to be recognized. When they got there, Walter had made it to the couch, still in his pajamas, and with young Lovey out and about. He had managed to feed her, and that was it. He couldn't even answer the door, so the team (dressed in civilian clothing and acting as though they were friends of his over for a visit) gently picked the lock on the door and let themselves in. What they found was alarming. Walter was deathly pale, running a fever and showing flu-like symptoms, minus sinus issues. His body ached and felt tingly all over, and he was nauseated. The bite on his neck was still a grey whelp, and now was developing markings around it. Another new development was two lumps on the undersides of his wrists had appeared, also swollen, sore and grey, just like the bite on his neck. Theo and his team drew blood from Walter and quickly ran it through one of the small machines they brought (super scientific world, shit gets done faster). After a few minutes, the test results revealed that there was indeed, a toxic substance in his system, but it was mixed with the venom of a jumping spider. As it is, jumping spiders are relatively docile and their bites are almost never problematic, let alone potentially fatal, but the team was scared stiff. They revealed to Walter right then and there that he was bitten by one of their animal subjects -- an aggressive, mutated jumping spider, that had gotten loose in the lab the day Walter visited. They explained that they didn't even know it had gotten out until a little while after Walter had gone home when they found it wandering about, caught it and put it back in its enclosure. Walter asked what was going to happen to him, and they reluctantly said they weren't sure. Theo and the other scientists huddled in the kitchen and quietly debated what their next move was. They had to either come clean to the agency and its directors about what they had done and how they messed up, possibly facing federal jail time for carelessness/endangering someone, or try to brush it under the rug. Panicked, they decided to try and hide their mistake. They came back to Walter and told him he was going to be fine (which was a lie, as they really didn't know), and that news of this needed to stay under wraps. Theo told him that higher-ups would know about it, but would deny they did if asked about it, as goofs like this were critical to be kept secret in order to conceal it from potentially getting out to the public. They even typed up a fake document for Walter to sign, swearing him to secrecy. He was told to never speak to anyone of what happened, both in and outside of work. Given he had no friends and no remaining family, Walter nervously agreed, still wondering if he would die. As Theo spent time cleaning up his mess, he and the team stayed to monitor Walter's condition. Over the course of the next two hours, Walter managed to break his fever, but his temperature suddenly dropped drastically, as did his heart rate and blood pressure. If he died, the team knew they were in deep, deep trouble. They used what little they had to try and keep him somewhat stable and monitor his vitals. Miraculously, an hour following, the symptoms began to lesson. Blood pressure, heart rate and temperature came closer to being steady again. By 2 in the afternoon, Walter had overcome most of his symptoms. He was a little dizzy, his body still felt tingly and the whelps were still swollen and sore, but it seemed he would be all right. They encouraged him to drink some water and eat a couple crackers to test his stomach, and that turned out to be fine as well. The ordeal left him exhausted and under the weather, but he figured he might be able to return to work the next day. Like the night before, Theo told him to take a referral to the toxins lab when he clocked in and check in with them. They left, but stayed in close touch with Walter up until work time. ~~Suppression~~ With the bite and wrist whelps still inflamed and grey, Walter wore his jacket to conceal them. When he arrived in the toxins lab, he was still ragged out, but completely stable. He complained of soreness in the whelps, and explained that there was a more persistent, widespread ache in his wrists extending into his arms. His palms and the bottoms of his feet also felt very tingly still. Theo checked the sites out, and it was revealed that Walter now had much more significant markings that were a mixture of grey and iridescent pink. Going off of evidence from other people who'd experienced mutations around the world, Theo concluded that certain parts of Walter's body were developing spider-like qualities, of which he wasn't sure yet. He explained that Walter very nearly met death the previous day due almost exclusively to the dangerous toxin that had been injected into him, but the spider's venom had neutralized a certain compound in it just enough to keep him alive when it counted. This, he explained, was how the spider itself had survived the toxin. He allowed Walter to see the spider. Given his symptoms were not getting much worse, aside from some persistent tingling and aching, Theo told him they would be in regular contact. Until this settled down, he was to visit the toxins lab multiple times a week. For once, Walter being neglected in the gadgets lab -- and by the agency as a whole -- served a purpose, as all the referrals to the TL were not questioned. And despite months of visitation to the TL, Walter still didn't make any friends. There was a slight fondness that Theo had for him, but he remained professional and determined not to get attached. A couple weeks after the bite, the whelps finally laid flat, and the bite wound was all gone. Intricate markings were all that was left, and one tiny little bump on the underside of each wrist. Whenever Walter would go down to the labs, Theo and his private team ran small medical tests. They sampled blood, very modest traces of tissue, and took his vitals. The medical records and each find was documented quietly and hidden in a remote file. Still, Walter believed it wasn't a true secret, and became gradually more comfortable. Eventually, they all realized that Walter's hands and feet gained him the ability to cling to most surfaces when he desired, and the whelps on his wrists were actually spinnerets. He produced webs from his wrists, could jump several times the length of his own body, and was sensitive to vibrations, certain touch, and somehow was able to predict danger coming towards him just before it could actually reach him. Thankfully, as x-rays and sonograms showed, he didn't develop any new or strange organs, didn't lay eggs, didn't have an appetite for insects and best of all, did not need to molt. Studies on him went on for months before it seemed every secret had been uncovered. But because of the nature of it all, Theo told Walter he needed to suppress his abilities. No shooting webs, no jumping super far, no wall climbing. He was saddened by this, but again, he obeyed. For the next two years, Walter Beckett stifled everything as he had grown used to doing as it was, and went on with life. When someone asked him about the markings, he said they were tattoos, and that their meaning was "personal." A final consequence of this was Walter was no longer allowed to potentially work in the toxins lab. ~~The Movie~~ Everything played out as usual in the film, but with Walter having markings and simply not even thinking to use his abilities even in dangerous situations. ~~Post-Movie~~ Everything went along as normal (see the HC sheet). While Walter was living with Lance, the closer he got to him, the more he wanted to tell his secret, but he kept quiet. Knowing he was about to be a real agent and the man's partner, though, he figured it would have to come up at some point. Walter got his chance to talk when Lance drove him to the H.T.U.V. on one of their days off to meet with Marcy and Joy to address his issues with compromise and direction. Everything there went as normal, but when it was over, Walter asked to stay back and talk to Joy alone for a bit. Lance and Marcy waited outside, not too far away, and Walter approached Joy. A conversation like this ensued: ------- "Walter: Sooo, now that I'm gonna be an agent, I guess it might be okay to finally bring up the ah... "spider thing"? Joy: ...The what. Walter: You know...! (He shows her his wrists.) Walter: These? Joy: *looks at the marks* ... *looks at him and raises a brow* If...yer askin' if it's all right to have tattoos, the answer is yes... Walter: Hah, wow, when they said you'd deny it, they really meant it! Joy: *more annoyed* Who said I would deny what??" ------- By this point, Walter suddenly understood that she really was oblivious. He hoped she was the only director or higher-up that was in the dark about it. Distressed at having broken the strict rule he was given and almost panicking, Walter had to be re-focused by Joy and calmed enough to nervously explain to her vaguely what happened to him two years prior, and why he never spoke of it. Furious, Joy brought Lance and Marcy back in and briefly explained that she'd just learned about Walter's mutation, and thus he had to explain it a little, too. Naturally, they were shocked and confused, but Joy apologized to Marcy while requesting that she gear up and help her potentially make some arrests. Lance was allowed to come too, just in case he might be needed. ~~Caught~~ Joy and Marcy's team stormed into the toxins lab and confronted Theo and gathered his team. Walter was confused and scared out of his mind. When Joy interrogated them, it didn't take long for them to break and confess everything right then and there. They even gave up the secret files documenting the event and all the recordings since, including Walter's visitations and the dates. The files were seized, and Marcy's team arrested Theo and his close co-workers. Walter felt terrible about the whole thing, but once again, he had managed to evade prison simply due to his innocence and naivete. At the very least, no longer having to hide everything was a monumental, if not somewhat thrilling relief. He was asked to come back later in the week after work one day and recount everything he knew, and the entire encounter to Joy and a few of her subordinates. Theo and his team faced 20 years in federal prison, but a plea deal was set to lesson it to 10. They eventually settled for 15. By this point, the spider that bit Walter had long since died. ~~"Special" Agent~~ When Walter trained for his more serious partnership with Lance, he was encouraged now to use his abilities and figure them out. There was a lot of falling, swinging too far, miscalculated/premature web fires, and over-estimated jumps, but as Walter gained more confidence, it showed in his training. Practice and patience made him keen, and now he had one more thing to tack on to his list of oddities. With help from suit designer experts from the gadgets lab, a team helped Walter put together a breathable, slim-fitting suit that would compliment all of his abilities. The gloves even have an opening for his spinnerets. ~~Today~~ Walter doesn't often have a need to wear his suit outside of fun and training, oddly enough, but it has and continues to prove useful on the field. Certain missions may require it, so he packs it on every mission just in case. Either way, he can still mostly use his abilities in regular attire, though his feet don't stick to surfaces with his shoes being on. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

#Spies in Disguise #Walter Beckett #Tom Holland #Spiderman #au #I EVEN GAVE HIM FRECKLES

[thatswhatisee]

Remember, Remember

This is my take on "What if the bee had not stung Scully in the Hallway Scene?" In Fight the Future. Also available at AO3

I want to thank @agentelmo, @handsofabitterman, and @mldrgrl for their help in the early stages. Tossing ideas around with them made me come with a certain structure to this project. This first chapter has been betaed by dksculder, @ enigmaticdoctorscully , and @settle-down-frohike . Without their feedback, I wouldn't have been able to get this here.

I also want to thank Vicky @frangipanidownunder for her writing workshops that have helped me become a more confident fanfic writer.

English is not my native language and feedback is much appreciated. Without any further ado, here is the story.

xXxXxXxXxXx

Chapter 1

I go for a run. I run like my life depends on it. Which I find ironic in a way, as I’m a fox myself. At least that’s what my parents have thought to name me. Different from my animal counterpart, though, at this moment I feel more like a prey than a hunter. I run away from this morning’s events, trying to erase the frustration and anger with sore muscles and the release of endorphins. That should make me feel better. At least that’s what I had hoped for when I had set my foot out of the door, right before dawn, with the air still chilled.

I pass by silhouettes of trees and hedges; not a soul is out in the park. The streetlamps show me where the track ends and the green grass starts. I follow the concrete path. My nostrils smell dew and the loamy scent of the Tidal Basin on my right. The Washington Monument is on this side too. All lit up, a white phallus among the darkness, putting on pretentious display all American masculinity. Even in architecture we, men, show that our dicks need to rule everything, seeking power and a release of oxytocin to their owners.

A flood of oxytocin should have made me better as well. Or so they say. It had made me feel good, actually. So good, so relaxed that I fell asleep; it was the moment I opened my eyes that everything went downhill.

But what would I know about hormones anyway? 

She, on the other hand, would know. The perks of being an MD. Her bedside manners need some work, though. That I can say. I bet that’s why she chose to be a pathologist. And coming to think of it, that is also probably why she had been single for almost all the time I have met her.

If I am a fox, she is, apparently, a praying mantis.

But it was my mistake. Five years working with a person. Five years of a partnership based on trust and repressed feelings were thrown down the toilet. I should have never kissed her in that hallway. And why did she have to choose that moment to let down a guard that has been up and successful for so many years? She should have slapped me in the face, that’s what she should have done. I would have deserved it.

The first rays of sunlight have started to warm up this summer morning and I’m still thinking of her. I guess it’s not time to turn back to the car and drive home yet. The cool breeze on my face is a good contrast to the warmth my tracksuit provides me, as I feel the drops of sweat running down my body. It’s a pleasant sensation. It makes me focus on the moment I’m living and not in the past. 

The sunlight bathes my surroundings and the day has warmed up as I approach The Jefferson Memorial. A few joggers run by and the city is starting to wake up. I think it’s time to finally go back home.

As I leave the shower and head to my bedroom, the remnants of last night’s developments assault my senses. I take a deep breath and close my eyes. The room smells like her and I swear I can hear again the soft moaning coming from her mouth when my tongue drew number eights on her neck. My blood runs south and stirs my dick. I sigh. My body tenses and I yank the sheets out of the bed to throw them in the hamper with force. The sunlight passes between the slats of the blinds, bathing a piece of the floor. It makes a kind of patterned spotlight to my yesterday’s outfit. My stomach clutch with the sight. I grab my gray T-shirt from the floor, ball them up in my hands with clenched teeth and toss them in the laundry basket.

When I’m back to putting away clothes, something else calls my attention and I stop mid-stride. Giving it further inspection, I notice it’s a smashed bee. My heart races and I feel ultra-awake by adrenaline. I run and search frantically all over the place for a container to put the insect.

Once it is secured tight inside a small transparent pot I grab my cell phone and press speed dial one: Miss bedside manners.

Before I even hear the first ring, my heart races and I fumble with the phone to press the end call button. I throw it on the couch in a huff and I groan. I start to pace the living room, rubbing my temples as I try to think of who could help me out with that insect. Yes, I know that I will need an entomologist, but I have a hunch that this bee is no ordinary honey-maker. And only a pair of eyes, who have seen the virus through the microscope before, could back me up, complete and enrich my theory.

I groan again.

I guess that’s what phantom limb syndrome feels like.

I arrive at the Lone Gunmen’s office and I am greeted by Frohike, who opens the door and starts to look behind me as if my presence alone was not enough for him.

“Where is the delectable Agent Scully?”

“I dare you to call her that on her face. She will kick your ass.” and then I remember. “Though that will be a little difficult since she is moving to Salt Lake City.”

“Salt Lake City?! What the heck did you do to her, man?” he barks, his face betraying indignation. He closes the door and I get inside. I try to deny my involvement in her departure – even though deep down, I’m guilty as charged – but I am interrupted by Langly and Byers. They have stopped their nerdy business and are now gathered around me and Frohike. The latter informs the others of the latest development.

“What did you do to Scully, dude?” blondie asks me.

I don’t know if it’s Frohike’s indignation or Langly’s astonished tone that does the trick, but I snap.

“Why do you all think I have done something to her?!”

“Easy, dude, we just want to understand what happened. But you were always ditching her, so we assume things.” says Langly.

“And you have a tendency to sleep with your female partners” Frohike points out.

“That happened only once.” I say, unable to look them in the eyes.

“Yeah, with the only female partner you have had before.” Shortie patronizes me.

“She and Diana are completely different people. Besides I’ve sworn that I would not let my dick get in the way again.” Yeah. Congratulations to me.

“Well, agent Scully is very hot. It would be understandable if you had not been able to resist temptation…” 

“Can we, please, stop talking about her?!” I admonish and interrupt Frohike’s rant. “The FBI transferred her after all that Dallas fiasco. And that’s why I’m here.” I take a deep calming breath. “I need your help. They are trying to blame us for what happened and all I have had before were theories, but no substantial proof. Until…” I get the vial with the bee from my pocket and show them. “...I found this in my apartment.” 

I share with them everything that Kurtzweil had told me. I tell them all the things I have seen in the last days: the cornfield, the white domes, the bees.

“If this bee is carrying the alien virus, as I suspect it is, it changes everything. It will prove that there is a real threat to people out there. And the X Files is the only division in the FBI that can handle these kinds of investigation. They will need to reopen the unit. And they will not be able to make a scapegoat of me.”

“And maybe Agent Scully can come back to Washington.” Frohike says.

“That is not up to me. She had her options before and she has made her choice.” I sigh. “And I think I already said I don’t want to talk about her, right?”

I notice how they look at one another, tension in the air. That’s when Byers, finally, decides to offer his input.

“So you’ll need an apiologist or an entomologist who we can trust to look at this bee. Someone who can catalog the anomalies or find traces of the virus.” 

“Yep. And I need it by Monday, at noon.”

“Monday?!” Langly exclaims. “Dude, today is Friday! Do you have any idea how long it takes to run full background checks on people and come up with somebody who is clean? How are we going to do that and then ask them to do the job on such a short notice? And moreover on the weekend?!”

“I know. But that’s when I have an OPR meeting. The FBI forgot to ask me when it’s the most convenient time for me to have my ass kicked.”

“So let’s get to work!” Frohike says and retreats himself along with Langly to their computers. Byers stay put and then approaches me, in a conspiratory voice.

“I know that you don’t want to talk about Agent Scully, but I just wanted to say that I have experience with loving a woman and then have her ripped out of my arms.”

“I’m not in love…”

“You may fool yourself, Mulder, but not me. Anyway, I just wanted to say that if you ever want to talk about it, I can be your man for that. I won’t judge or make fun of you.” He pats my shoulder twice and goes for his computer. 

And I stay there, glued to that spot, dumbstruck.

 I leave the Gunmen’s office with the remembrance of the taste of her lips in my tongue. Thank you, Byers! Now all I can think of was how our lips barely had met in that hallway and her tongue was already inciting me, proding for more; how our breaths became heavy and faster; how I pulled Her body closer to mine, and...

...And how I needed to burn that out of my mouth and mind.

So I get in the car and drive all the way to Casey’s Bar, in Southeast Washington. When I get there, though, I don't even leave the car as I remember that blonde bartender. She would be sure to inform me that my ‘lucky number’ was actually three times less than what I really needed.

I go home instead. The bottle of scotch in the liquor cabinet will have to do. All that is left for me is to drown my sorrows into oblivion. And that’s what I do until I have the burning taste of alcohol in my mouth only. 

When I regain consciousness, the sun has already set and a loud trill pierces my ears. And my head for that matter. I am sprawled, face down on my couch, a pool of drool coming out of my mouth. I unstuck my cheeks from the leather and the difference in height makes it feel like a sword punctures my brain. Looking for the source of the noise, I realize it’s my cell phone that is making that awful sound.

I get up to my feet, as steady as I can under the circumstance, and answer the device. I am greeted by a female voice who calls me ‘Fox’. And the way she says my name –in such a soft, caring voice that doesn’t make me flinch– tells me that it can only be one person.

“Mrs. Scully?”

“Yes, that’s me. Have you seen Dana?”

“I last saw her early this morning. Has something happened?”

“We were supposed to have dinner at 7 p.m, but she neither showed up or called.”

I check the time and the VCR clock tells me it’s 9 p.m. “Have you tried her cell phone?”

“Yes, and her home number as well, but she is not answering either. This is not like her.” her voice became brittle. “I was wondering if you guys had had a last minute trip that she had forgotten to tell me or some other work-related issue had come up. I just… I just have a bad feeling about it all.”

Me too, Mrs. Scully. Me too. I feel the bottom of my stomach chill and sink. “Hang by the phone. I’ll figure out what happened.”

I end the call and dial the Lone Gunmen. When one of them answers the phone I don’t even bother to listen who is on the other side and start barking orders.

“Stop everything you are doing right now. I need your help again. Scully is missing.”

Chapter 2

#X Files fanfic #My Fanfic #Dana Scully #Fox Mulder

[oneiroi]

First Hunt

I sat down on a fallen log and shrugged off my ruck, letting it thump heavily onto the forest floor. I was surprisingly calm, given the circumstances, as if my mind had flipped on autopilot. Without thinking, I produced a pack of cigarettes from my shirt pocket, brought one up to my lips, and lit it. After replacing the lighter and the rest of the pack I hunched over and drew deeply. I exhaled, resting my elbows on my knees, then withdrew the cig and watched it shake in my hands. Maybe I wasn't so calm after all.

The panic hit me again. All at once like a blow to the chest. I must've sat there and cried for hours. Not that soft, dignified weeping either. I mean the sort of sobbing that makes your entire body ache and soaks your face with tears and mucus. Real ugly crying.

You'd think someone in that state would be at their absolute limit. That if the situation got anymore dire they would simply keel over and die of shock. I guess I didn't. I heard a twig snap behind me, and fight-or-flight kicked in. In a moment I was on my feet with rifle in hand, now-forgotten tears still dripping from my chin. I whipped around and locked eyes with an owl, hardly three yards away from me. In my state of surprise and relief, all I could do was stammer out, “Uh, hey there.” Guess I spooked it, because it flew right back off the way it had come.

I shook my head and tried to take stock of the situation. I was miles into the forest, and I did not know the way out. I had about a day's worth of water, but the only food was back at camp. I had my cell phone, but no battery. I had my rifle and six loaded magazines, most of which were stuffed into my ruck along with a change of clothes.

I weighed my options and found that I really only had one: find my way back to camp. Then what? See how long I could last on canned beans and granola bars and wait for someone to wander down the trail to save me? Unlikely in these parts; I had been sent out here for a reason, after all. At that moment I fully believed that I was going to die in those woods. Nevertheless, I decided there was no sense in waiting around where I was, so I lit another cigarette and began walking in what I guessed was the direction I'd come from that morning. I had snapped branches and left boot-prints and depressions where I'd stumbled and fallen in the mud on my mad run away from camp, so it was not difficult to retrace my steps. Time-consuming given the distance adrenaline had carried me, but not difficult.

As soon as I caught a glimpse of my green tent a chill ran down my spine. Rifle shouldered, I crept up to camp as quietly as I could and looked around. Everything seemed to be as I'd left it. My tent stood upright with a single large gash down one of the sides where I'd cut it open to make my escape. Ash, dead coals, cookware, and firewood were scattered all over the camp. Ben's orange tent was torn to shreds, the canvas in tatters and the poles snapped everywhere and in every-which-way. And it was empty, which came as a surprise.

I had been expecting a body, or at least some blood, but there was no trace of Ben anywhere. The destroyed tent and sleeping bag were the only evidence that I hadn't come out here alone. Even his gun, ruck, and boots were gone. I let out an awkward, choked laugh and fell to my knees, relieved that my friend might still be alive out there, somewhere. 

But where the hell had he gone? The only obvious tracks I could find were my own blunders from the previous night, and if he'd gone to find me he certainly would've succeeded. He was the one that actually knew what he was doing out here, and even I'd managed to follow those tracks.

I searched for a lead until sunset, careful not to stray too far from camp, and came up with nothing. I certainly didn't want to be wandering through the woods in the dark again, so I prepared to hunker down for the night. I dug a few fuel tabs and a can of beans out of the ammo can we'd been storing our odds and ends in and started a small fire. My stomach was tied up by nerves, but I forced myself to eat a bit before I crawled into my sleeping bag.

It was very difficult to fall asleep, what with the circumstances and the hole in my tent, but I managed it eventually. I dreamt that I was wandering through the forest, naked. There was a deep warmth in my gut and a sort of mindless euphoria. The trees were singing to me in soft, soothing tones, and the branches bent before me to clear a path deeper into the wood. Eventually I came to a giant tree, carved into the likeness of a man. Great branches sprouted from his head, formed into magnificent curved horns. The roots at the base of the tree were in the shape of a rough throne, upon which sat a tall beast. Broadly human in shape, but with the head of a goat and long, predatory claws for fingers.

The beast opened its eyes when I approached and stared at me, still as stone, without so much as a twitch of the nose. I knelt before it and found myself speaking, "Ave imperator, morituri te salutant." The beast's clawed hand came to rest atop my head, and with that everything went black. 

It felt as though I was falling and suddenly, as if from all directions at once, I heard a woman's voice, "You, my favored son, must not succumb to the Beast's call. Have no fear on this night, for I am watching over you."

I was awoken by the call of an owl. It jolted me upright in my sleeping bag, immediately alert, and within moments I was outside of the tent with my rifle at the ready. The owl sat on a branch at eye level on the other side of camp. It took flight the moment I looked at it, wings beating silently in the night. I thought for a moment about how bad of an idea it was to begin looking for Ben before first light, but I lit a cigarette and began walking anyways.

I walked to the owl's perch, and continued straight from there, my path lit only by the light mounted on my rifle. I had no idea where I was going or what I was looking for, but something was urging me forward. After an hour of walking, I heard the baying of wolves break out close by.

I rushed towards the sound to find Ben sitting motionless against a massive tree, which I immediately recognized as the one from my dream, where the great Emperor of Beasts had sat upon his throne of roots. It lacked the carving and the throne, of course, but it was unmistakable. Two wolves circled him, hunched down with ears lowered. As I stood and watched, they began to approach him, slowly but surely closing their circle. One of them finally darted in, and time seemed to slow to a crawl. I brought my rifle up to bear but hesitated for a moment. I very clearly remember thinking, "I'll hit Ben if I miss," to which I heard the woman's voice reply, "You won't." I pulled the trigger only once and the pouncing wolf crumpled into the mud as the rifle's thunderous report echoed through the woods. The flash blinded me for a moment, and when my eyes opened the other wolf was gone.

I rushed over to Ben to find his head and face caked in dried blood. I reached out and touched his shoulder, causing him to jolt awake. I had to hold hold him down as he thrashed and raved, shouting in a language I didn't recognize. We struggled for a few minutes before I heard something large running towards us. Something with hooves. A great deer crashed into the small clearing and darted through to the other side, quickly vanishing in the thick brush. The sight of it calmed Ben immediately. I had released him in fright at the animal's sudden appearance, but he simply lay there staring towards the sky.

His voice came in a breathy whisper before trailing off, "High on a stag the Goddess held her seat…"

I looked at him, breathing heavily, and asked, "Fucking what?"

He broke down sobbing, and we just sat there together for a while. Eventually he sat up, the tears slowed, and finally stopped. He wiped his face, smearing dirt through the dried blood. He staggered to his feet with a nervous chuckle and turned to face the tree. Casting a glance at me, he spoke, “Well, here we are.”

“So, what now?” My hand anxiously ran up and down my rifle’s handguard as I spoke.

Wordlessly, he stepped back away from the tree and motioned for me to do the same. We stood there and stared at the monstrous tree for a long while. We both knew what had to be done but there was something holding us back. I swear I could almost make out the tree singing to me, just as it had in the dream. I felt at peace, there before the Emperor’s tree, but there was something else gnawing at my mind. “You, my favored son, must not succumb to the beast’s call.”

I held my breath, raised my rifle, and fired all twenty nine rounds left in the magazine straight into the tree trunk. Something black and viscous oozed from each new wound on the tree. Ben and I watched in awe as the leaves withered and fell before our eyes like rotting snowflakes. 

After a few moments Ben turned towards me and spoke, "Hell of a first hunt, hey?"

"Yeah," I replied, "Let's get out of here."

The hike back out was uneventful. We walked through our campsite, but didn't bother to take anything with us aside from the ammo can. We marched dutifully and silently back to the more well-established trails, and finally reached the trailhead at midday. We climbed into Ben's truck, still without another word exchanged between us, and I fell asleep nearly immediately.

I dreamt of myself and Ben in a wondrous temple. I watched from afar as Ben knelt before a marble statue of a maiden clad in a green mantle. He stayed perfectly still save for his lips, which were mouthing a silent prayer. I watched him for a few moments before approaching another statue, this one a muscular woman holding a shield and spear. I threw my arms around her, buried my face in the nape of her neck, and wept softly. The marble grew soft and warm, and I felt strong arms embrace me as a hand ran gently through my hair. She made me feel safe, loved even. I never wanted to let go, but all things must end.

Ben woke me with a slap on the chest. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and looked around groggily. "Right, here's your place," he said.

He had clearly cleaned up his face somewhat, but his forehead was still smeared with blood and dirt. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Ben smiled warmly and said, "It's nothing. I'll call you in a few days, alright brother?"

"Yeah, I'll see you."

I went into my apartment and shrugged off my ruck, letting it thump heavily on the carpet. I felt safe back in my own home, but I was preoccupied. Lost in thought, I produced a pack of cigarettes from my shirt pocket, brought one to my lips, and lit it. I replaced the lighter and the rest of the pack, and that was that. My first hunt had been a success, and I would spend the next few days resting and waiting to be called again. Ben had warned me that the first hunt would be the hardest; I only hoped he was right.

[sillysaladhairdoapricot]

002 x male reader.

(Request from a friend on Instagram)

I take requests, don’t be scared.

I opened my eye and got up, I looked around my room, I was in my bedroom, it was just a dream, but it felt soo real.

“Are you okay?” I looked at the door, Goro was behind it and looking through.

“I think so…what happened.”

“We were fighting a Klaxosaurs, when one knocked you out. But your awake! That’s all that matters.”

“Yeah…”

“-13, are you okay? You look like you had a bad dream.”

“Maybe…”

“Well, you have to eat, come on.” He held out his hand, I looked at it and grabbed it. We both walked to the dining room, I got my food and went out to the table far from the others.

Ever since I came here, I was never like the others, they were raised here, except 02, I wasn’t normal and I knew it. I picked up the fork and I cut myself, some how. I yelped and held my hand. Everyone looked at me, Ichigo walked over.

“Are you okay? Let me see your hand.” I let her see my hand, her face was shocked like she never seen something.

“That cut is huge, and you just picked up a fork, Wow. I’ll be right back.”She left to grab a first-aid. I was an outcast, I didn’t do well with socializing with others. When Papa found out, he made me a separate FRANXX, just me piloted it. I do better alone than together, Ichigo came back, I gave her my hand and she cleaned it up and wrapped it up, she walked away. I finished my food and made my way to the bathroom, I turned on the water and bathed, I turned it off and went inside. I was alone all the time, I didn’t need anybody. I thought.

‘Knock Knock.’

“Who is it.”

‘Knock Knock.’

“I said WHO IS IT!”

The door opened and it was 02, she acted like a rouge, a rebellious child, she was like that ever since she was here. I glared at her, she walked towards me, I scooted away, fearing that she was going to do something. We never talked and she seemed to hate me, in a way. I would ask the others and they always say the same, ‘She suspicious.’ She cornered me, I was scared. She bent done, she raised her hand. I used my hand to block it and closed my eyes, I waited for something. I opened up my eyes. She had her hand on my cheeks, and she was rubbing it. I looked at her, she looked interested in it. She walked away to the clothes part of the bathroom, I raised my hand on my check and rubbed it. What was that for, she walked out, with only a towel on her body, she was going to bathe with me! She traced a circle with her finger, I turned around giving her privacy. I heard her get in, she tapped my shoulder, I slowly turned my head. I quickly turned my head away from her again. This isn’t happening! She swam in front of me, I just held my head down low, she put her hand on my cheek and moved it on my chin, she moved my chin so faced her. She smiled at me, then she moved my hand down my neck and to my chest, I scooted back, but she cornered me again and there was no escaping. She moved her hand to my side and to my stomach, rubbing it up and down, she was feeling my abs, since I piloted alone, I had to keep my body in shape all times and work out, so I was small and slim but very built. I turned my head not making eye contact. She looked at me, and raised her hand to my check, she forced me to look at her.

“Do you hate me?” I looked at her and she was frowning.

“No…”

“Do you hate anyone?”

“No…”

“Then why do you cast yourself away from the others?”

“I don’t belong here.”

“Yes you do.”

“How?!”

“Cause your probably one on the strongest, if anything everyone else don’t belong here.”

“Why would you say that? I’m the strongest? I’m not.”

“Cause you pilot alone, with no parasite.”

“Cause I don’t need one. They always get hurt with me.”

“You have doubts.”

“Your right.”

“Do you think that we can pilot together.”

“We! Umm...my FRANXX only handles 1.”

“Then we can do it with mines.”

“Umm. What about Hiro?”

“I told him that he needs a break.”

“You can’t be a parasite with two other parasites!”

“Then I’ll choose.” I turned my head away from her, she got up and sat on me, I was freaking out major. She put her arms on each me, what was she planning. She got really close to me, she proceeded to get closer. I was going to say something, but I couldn’t, not even if I wanted to, cause she was kissing me. It was a long kiss, I eventually calmed down and placed my hands on her hips. She pulled away, she smiled, and I giggled, a true giggle, not a awkward one, apparently it was contagious, cause she was laughing as well.

“Let’s get out.”

“Yeah.”

I got out and held out my hand for her to grab, she smiled and took it. We both dried off, changed, and walked out of the bathroom together, I walked to my room, I closed the door, changed, turned off the light, and I didn’t go to bed, I would usually stay up and look out the window. But tonight, I opened the window and went out, I went on top of the house and just sat there with my knees the my chest and look out. It was quiet, it was soo quiet that you could hear ever single living animal. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine what could be making those sounds.

The leaves on a tree…

The water hitting the shore…

Feet moving on the floor…

Feet moving on the floor? Somebody was up, the person was looking around my room, then they ran to the window and jumped out to the roof, they apparently saw me, they walked towards me and stopped right behind me.

“Your rather loud.”

“You could hear me?”

“It rather hard not to when it’s so quiet out here, why were you in my room?” I didn’t bother looking toward them, cause I knew who it was.

“Well, you let your note book thing in the bathroom.”

“And you decided to give it to me now?”

“You too quiet and fast, and I didn’t know where you went?” I put my hand out, she placed my book in my hand. I opened it, and started to write in it.

“You know you drawings look just like the real thing.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, can you draw me?”

“Why.”

“Please!” I looked at her and she gave me puppy eyes, I looked away, she put her hands on my knees.

“Fine!” She raised her hand in excitement. I grabbed the pencil and started to draw her. She was one of her kind , very beautiful, perfect in my eyes. I finished drawing her and let her see the finished product. She looked at it and her eyes went wide.

“Sorry if it’s horrible.”

“I love it.”

“Sorry, say that again.”

“It’s the real thing.”

“Really?”

“Hmhmm.” I stretched my arms and stood up. She followed me back to my room, I laid down on my bed.

“Bye, Love.”

“Love? That’s new, bye, 02.”

The next day there was been a sighting of a Mohorovičić-class Klaxosaur around the plantation, Hiro was still recovering, I put on my suit and walked towards my FRANXX, when I opened it up, 02 came and grabbed my by the arm.

“What are you doing?”

“Remember yesterday.” It took me a second, then I remembered it, I was going to pilot with 02 instead of Hiro. I closed up my FRANXX, and then I was dragged by 02 to her’s. She opened it and we both went inside. I got in the chair and looked around, it wasn’t the same as mine.

“Okay, so how does this work?”

“Don’t worry.”

“Okay.” She looked at me, I was scared, I never knew how to do this, She walked towards, and bent to my face level. It was the same in the bathroom, she had both arms on each side of me and got really close. I did my signature head turn, she grabbed my chin, and moved it towards me. She got really close and sealed the gap between our lips, I once felt scared of doing this but once we kissed all of the fear went away. She placed her hand on my chest, and mine went on her back. She pulled away, and smiled, she cupped my check in her hand, I leaned toward it.

“Once we finished with this mission we could do something together, okay.” I nodded, smiled, and put my hand over hers. She smiled and kissed my forehead and went into her place, the position was awkward. Anyways we got started, and it felt like when I was back at my FRANXX, it was really easy to move, we went out, we were one of the first ones out to face to Klaxosaur, there was something off.

“Love can you see the Klaxosaur.”

“No I can’t, but it say that it’s here, and it coming towards us fast.” There was a rumble in the ground, we looked in the opposite directions of the plantation, there it was, we all went towards it, but it wasn’t a Mohorovičić-class, it was bigger. It’s a Super Lehmann-class, the biggest in the pack.

“It’s huge!”

“I don’t think we can beat this one.”

“Me and -13 can, Right Love?”

“Y-Yeah.” We went ahead of the group and went towards it. I wasn’t ready to fight this thing. I took in deep breaths and closed my eyes, only think of the positives. I need to be calm.

“Love are you ready it’s getting closer.”

“…”

“Love? Are you okay?!”

“…”

“Love!”

“…”

“-13!!!” I took out the weapon, and went full throttle towards it. Everyone was yelling for me to slow down, I wasn’t listening to them. I drew out the weapon and aimed at it, it wasn’t the normal weapon 02 and Hiro used, it was a lance but with buttons, like my weapon. I aimed at the beast and got the weapon ready, when we got close in range to the thing, we jumped up, I shoved the lance inside and hit the button, everything went white and I saw something, something that had meaning to it. After a while my sight went back to normal and the Klaxosaur was dead, the only thing remains was blue blood on the ground, I stayed quiet, we returned back to the base and the group was cheering.

002 POV

Once we got back to the base I disconnected and jumped out of my FRANXX, I looked at -13, He was doing good, he is one of many not injured or dead. He’s better than Hiro, I jumped at him and gave him a kiss and hugged him, he hugged back. We both walked back to our base, I was leading -13 with our hands together. I lead him to the bathroom, he seemed like he was in a faze, he took off his close and got in and I went in after him. He sat in the corner, I scooted next to him, he didn’t look at me. Something was off, I got right in front of him, and looked at him, I got his hand and started to kiss it, he just blushed, then I traveled up his arm and to his neck, and landed a kiss on his lips.

“Are you okay?”

…

“Hey, Love.” I raised my hand to his face, once I touched his cheek, his eyes widened and smiled.

“Sorry, I was just-“

“Shhh. It’s fine.”

“If you say.” Something was off, I helped him wash his back and he did the same to me, we got out, dried off and changed. Once he finished we quickly walked back to his room leaving me, I went out to the dining room, I was waiting for him to seat at the table, but he never came.

“02, are looking for -13.”I looked over, it was Goro, him and -13 is very close. “Yeah…he was fine piloting with me, but at the bathroom he changed.”

“You do know it was his first time piloting with someone else.”

“Yeah...he mentioned that.”

“And he was from the north, that means he know more about everything than us.”

“Yeah? What are you trying to say.”

”He he thinks what’s ever is new it’s usually a bad thing. So I think he shouldn’t pilot with anyone.”

“I agree, she’s only a parasite of one, she can’t risk of killing two.”

“-13! Your up! Are you felling okay? What are you wearing?”

“I’m okay, and I’m going to see Papa.”

“Why, it’s too late.” Goro got up but his hands was still on the table.

“It’s not late until the sunsets, and I need to talk with him, beside he’s the one who brought me.” -13 walked out the door. I got up and tried to run after him, but Goro got a hold of my arm and shook his head no.

“When he’s like this, he needs some time alone.”

Your POV

I walked out of the base, and walking through the security fields with ease. Once I got to Papa’s lab, he was the only one in there.

“-13. Your up late, are you supposed to be here?”

“No I’m not, I need answers.”

“Ask away, my child.” He pointed at a chair, I sat down across of him.

“Why did you bring me here?”

“You were making the others there uncomfortable, and so they asked me to take you in.”

“Why.”

“You were different…mentally. And on a higher level on physical. You were moving faster than others.”

“Do I have permission to go anywhere.”

“Yes you do. And for proof is your tag.”

“That means outside with my FRANXX.”

“Yes.”

“Okay, thank you.” I walked out of the lab, not feeling any better, I changed my suit and went to my FRANXX, I grabbed food and batteries to last me a month or two. I turned on the FRANXX and went out side of the plantation. I was planning to go away and not come back.

Time skip (???months)

“He still hasn’t came back?” Goro was looking out yander in the dry dry land, but he was focused on the crops, recently all of the Klaxosaur had disappeared. And there was no point using the FRANXX any more.

“No.” Hiro said looking at 02, she hasn’t said anything about -13 since he left.

“-13, where did you go. We miss you.”

“I don’t, I’m glad he’s gone.”

“What’s your deal with him. He’s just lonely, and he needs a partner.”

“Not my problem.”

“It probably is. Look. Let’s just focus on what’s here and we know where it is.

“Yeah.” They were picking off the berries on the bushes, when there was a sound coming from above. Everyone looked up, there was something coming down, everyone started to panic and run inside the base. Once the thing landed, the FRANXX’s available pilots went out to search the area. It was only 4 FRANXX’s out there. They all looked around, something arose from it, it floated, it scanned everything and sent a beep.

“What’s that?”

“Something new.”

“Are the Klaxosaurs back.”

A gust of wind came by and blew away the smoke, revealing the object, it was a FRANXX! It beeped and started to move.

“This is commander Ichigo! I forbid you to move!”

It still was moving, I stood up straight.

“Wait! That FRANXX, looks like -13’s FRANXX. But why did it come from the sky.”

I opened up it face revealing the pilot inside, it was -13, He was badly injured, scars all over him, especially on his eye, that eye turned white due to the scar. He looked at Goro’s FRANXX, he smiled. When Goro saw him, he quickly turned off his FRANXX and jumped out and on to -13’s they stood there is silents.

“You grew, Goro.”

“You’ve shrunk. -13.” -13 opened his arms.

“Don’t I get a hug, I’ve been missing for…god knows how long.” He ran towards the scared human and hugged him. He pulled away and looked at the scars he earned.

“What happened?”

“You know the typical, fighting Klaxosaurs, killing the queen. You think this Is bad, look at my arm.”

He turned over and let him see his arm. His eyes widened.

“Your arm…it’s gone… what happened up there!”

“It was bit off.”

“You should’ve never went up there, how did you get up there.”

“Long story, i see that you guys learned to farm. I’m only allowed to eat froze or powered things, well I did eat that Klaxosaur one time.”

“Enough, you need to rest, you look like Shit. Last time you slept?”

“Don’t remember.” Goro hugged -13 one last time, and they all went back to the plantation. Everyone was told that he wiped off the Klaxosaurs, he was considered a true hero, Goro helped him out of his torn suit and to take a proper bath. After that, he helped him eat proper food and sleep in a bed. Everything was in the right place, just like he left it, but there was a shrine, of him and with gifts around it.

“You thought I was dead, at least find my body then classify that I was dead.”

Goro hugged him one last time.

“I’m just glad your back. I have so many thing to tell you about.”

Then he slept.

After a long day of sleeping he went to eat food and walk around the plantation, he was looking for somebody. He looked at his FRANXX, it was cleaned and flowers were all over it. He looked it, then at himself, he got a new arm and his scars were all treated.

“-13?” He remembered that voice. He turned his head to look at the person who called him.

“02?”

“Your back.”

“Yeah.” She ran to him and hugged him. She ran so fast that they both fell over, but he managed to catch them. She raised her hands to his cheeks and started to rub his face. Checking if he was real.

“Your really back! I missed you soo much!” She pulled his head and gave him a kiss, which he accepted. The kiss turned into make out session, he picked her up and twirled her around.

“-13! Ever since you left, we have learned new thing! One of them was love. And I was wondering…”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“I would love nothing more than to be your boyfriend.”

“Really!”

“Don’t know, I think space air went to my brain, but I’m pretty sure what I said I meant it.”

“I love you, -13.”

“I love you too, 02.”

#002 #002xmalereader #darling in the franxx #DITF

[jarienn972]

Curse of Undoings - part three

This third installment isn't as heavy on the whump, although we do still have Killian in chains. There's a huge clue given here about the Black Fairy's plans and we learn that Killian isn't the only one who still has his real memories. Might he have an ally out there?

Tagging @killian-whump @hookaroo @castielamigos for the update

From the beginning: Part 1  Part 2  Also on AO3 and FF.net

With no way to know if it was day or night, Killian had no inclination of how much time had passed. He was aware that he'd blacked out from the pain at least once, but for how long? He knew he couldn't actually sleep as it was impossible to find any comfortable position, which was likely part of the planned torture. Laying on his back wasn't feasible with his skin ripped open and still seeping blood - and probably pus by now. His ribs ached if he tried to lay on his side and laying on his stomach was nearly as agonizing as being on his back when the heavy chain dragged across the raw flesh. Oh yes, this all had to have been the intent, furthering his agony. His throat was dry and scratchy as though he'd swallowed an entire desert but there was no relief in sight. He'd finally resigned himself to sitting upright, knees drawn up and tucked under his chin to give his aching head a place to rest.

He nearly jumped at the sound of the steel door being unlocked, squinting as it was pulled open, not even bothering to disguise his fear of what would await him next. A feminine form appeared in the doorway, but this was not Emma. This time, his unwelcome visitor was Fiona, the Black Fairy herself, attired in a sharp, tailored black pantsuit that in all appearances, was likely purloined from Regina's closet. Her hair was coiffed into a tight, businesslike bun and had Killian been able to speak, he would have asked her if she were here to gloat. She seemed to sense the question anyway, responding with a mocking grin.

"Well, aren't you just a pathetic sight, Captain?" she chuckled as she took a step inside the cell, careful not to get to close to any chains that might scuff her patent leather heels as she held her hands clasped demurely behind her back. "I see Emma did quite a number on you already and I'm sure there will be so much more to come. Such vitriol there…" She paused to have a laugh at the early results of her ministrations. "Oh, I know you'd love to tell me that your True Love will win out, but I wouldn't be so confident of that if I were you. I may have outdone myself with the amount of loathing I instilled in your lovely bride…"

Killian shifted positions, straining against his multiple restraints while growling angrily at the mastermind of this curse.

"Oh, don't bother wasting your energy, Jones," Fiona quipped as she wrapped the manicured fingers of her right hand around the chain tethering his collar and yanked down on it, forcing his head back so he'd have to look directly up at her. "This is so much fun! And as soon as Emma kills you and severs your bond of True Love, I win." She drew her left hand from behind her back and revealed the object she'd been hiding from view – a snow globe containing a tiny castle amidst a forest scene. "You see, all of your fairytale friends are imprisoned here and as soon as Emma acts on all of that hatred towards you, they all vanish. Everything gets undone and then, it becomes my story to re-write as I see fit. All it takes is for Emma to put an end to her True Love and everything is mine...

"Considering the beating she's already given you and your present predicament, it would seem that the memories I implanted in her of you killing her family are proving quite effective. She sees you only as a cold-blooded killer and it will only be a matter of time until she acts on all of her festering anger and hatred. Do try to make yourself comfortable until then, Captain, but I seriously doubt you'll be here much longer."

Fiona released her grip on the chain, allowing it to strike the open sores on his back intentionally as she cackled, exited the cell and locked the door behind her, the echo of the heavy door slamming resonating through his entire body. It did get him thinking about what she'd said though – she needed to destroy True Love to seal her victory. It explained why he'd been kept here in Storybrooke to be the fodder of his suddenly homicidal wife who viewed him only as a murderer. Emma believed her family to have been slaughtered by him yet in truth, they were trapped inside an enchanted snow globe, not unlike the way Jasmine's kingdom of Agrabah had been placed in stasis for centuries when she'd run off to the Land of Untold Stories.

Would there be any way he could get through to Emma? Convince her that he was really her loving husband, not the criminal she believed him to be? Certainly, parts of the fallacy were based in truth, but he'd put that man behind him to make himself worthy of her. His Emma was still in there somewhere, concealed behind all of the Black Fairy's lies. He just had to find a way to reach her before she unwittingly destroyed everything she loved.

Having taken out some of her frustrations on her prisoner, Emma decided to return to the Sheriff station to relax a bit before round two, entering the squad room with a satisfied smile turning up the corners of her lips. While Hook hadn't provided her anything in the way of actual information regarding her parents' murders, she'd enjoyed taking out ten years of aggravations on him. She'd return later to interrogate her prisoner further but at the moment, she had a few other things to attend to, the first of which was locating a clean shirt. She dug into the stash of emergency clothing she kept in her bottom desk drawer after discovering that a splattering of Hook's blood was staining her shirt. Eh, it was a small price to pay to look into a killer's eyes and punish him for his crimes. She didn't think much more of it as she unbuttoned the baby blue blouse and slipped it off, momentarily crouching in her office clad only in a camisole until she found a deep wine hued sweater that she pulled over her head, kicking the drawer closed with her toe as she stood back up.

Had her real memories been intact, she would have realized that the garment she'd just donned was one Killian had given her. He'd enlisted Henry's assistance to acquire it for her after he'd seen her admiring it in a magazine advertisement. The fabric still bore traces of both her perfume and a hint of his cologne from one of their last rendezvous in her office, but now, her cursed self barely recognized the scent. It was just another sweater to her, but it certainly held some familiarity to another person who'd retained his memories, not that anyone was believing him.

"Henry? What are you doing here?" Emma asked as she turned to spot her teenage son lurking in a corner of the squad room.

"I was looking all over for you, Mom," Henry replied. "You didn't come home last night…"

"Sorry, but you know yesterday was a hard day for me… I slept at the old loft…"

"Your wedding day was a hard day?" Henry asked, confused by her odd response. He'd known people were missing from the town, but until now, he wasn't sure what else the curse may have done.

"Wedding? Henry, did you forget to take your meds again? You know quite well that yesterday was the tenth anniversary of your grandparents being murdered…"

"Mom, Grandma and Grandpa aren't dead, I'm sure of it. They're just missing from the curse, you know, like half the town?"

"Okay, kid, now I know for sure that you didn't take your pills this morning. You're having delusions of curses and fairytales again, aren't you?"

"They're not delusions, Mom. You know it's all real…" Henry argued, worried that now that he'd located one of his mothers that he might have even bigger concerns. "It's all here in the book, for now, at least."

"Ugh, Henry, I swear I'm going to take that book away if you keep getting so caught up in fairytales! They're fiction. Happy endings don't exist in the real world, although at least now that I've found Jones, I can finally put one awful chapter behind me - as soon as he's sufficiently punished for what he did."

"You found Killian?" Henry asked both excitedly and a bit timidly.

"Killian? We're calling murderers by their first names now?"

"Murderer? Mom, what are you talking about?"

"Seriously, Henry, you know damned well what I'm talking about! Killian Jones – the vile bastard who massacred your grandparents a decade ago – we finally captured him and he's locked away where he can't hurt anyone ever again."

"Mom, no… That's not true. That's just what the Black Fairy wants you to believe. This is her curse. She wants you to forget the real Killian – to forget that you love him…"

"I think it's time I made you another psychiatric appointment. These fantasies of yours are getting a lot worse. Love him? You must be growing more insane… Look, right now, I want you do go home and take your meds, mister. That's an order. If I find out you didn't, I'll have to force you to take them and you know I don't like to do that…"

"Okay, mom," he conceded defeat. Whatever the Black Fairy had implanted into his mother's head was a lot stronger than he'd imagined. She believed that her True Love had murdered her parents and he could hear the bloodlust for revenge in her voice. "I'll see you at home later," he said as he backed out of the station, his mind swirling with thoughts of where she might have Killian locked away. If he could locate his stepfather, maybe the two of them together could break the curse and foil Fiona's plan, whatever it might be.

Henry scampered out of the Sheriff station, but he didn't exactly go straight home as he'd promised. He headed first to the town park, climbing to the top of the play castle where he'd always liked to come when he needed to think. He tossed his backpack onto the floor as he leaned his back into the slatted wood wall, getting a little more comfortable before opening the pack to retrieve his precious storybook – his family's legacy. Placing the book on the floor of the play castle, he opened it to the center, disturbed to see that even more of the image was deteriorating, portions of it missing. He flipped through several more pages that were also gradually fading away.

Was that what this curse was all about? Undoing all of the stories? Erasing all of the lessons learned? He knew that his grandparents and his other mother were missing, but he didn't think for a moment that they were dead. Half of Storybrooke had gone missing overnight, probably swept away to another realm, but he needed to know why. What was Fiona up to? Why did she need Emma to harbor such hatred toward Killian? No way he could head home just yet. He needed too many answers.

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