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wangxianficrecs · 3 years

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Sweeties, it’s time for

I’m In The Mood For A Fic Where…

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1. Ahhh mojo your blog makes my world go round and back and around again. [You’re so sweet!] I was wondering if you could help me out with your next "I'm in the mood for a fic where".. I'm looking for two types of fics

A) fics in which WWX regains his core somehow (either by working on it, divine intervention, core sharing, anything!!) I so desperately want my boy to have his precious and favourite sword back (◡ ω ◡)

B) fics where WWX (or LWJ) *almost* marries someone else.

Thank you for your help!!! (~￣³￣)~❤️ ~ @akyra-talanoa

1a.

nothing gold can stay by rikke (M, 10k, wangxian, my post)

❤️Ghosts Shouldn't by ShanaStoryteller (not rated [G], 15k, wangxian, my post)

the path to heaven / immortal wangxian by lightningalwaysreturns (E, 51k, wangxian)

Chimera by nirejseki (T, 18k, wangxian)

Righteous at a Cost by thunderwear (G, 21k, wangxian, my bookmark)

Different Paths to the Same Route by JustAWanderingBabbit (T, 184k, 3zun)

24 Hours by tailor31415 (E, 6k, wangxian)

Core-Thieving Hand by x_los (T, 5k, wangxian)

Field Trips with Wei Wuxian by antebunny (G, 43k, wangxian)

1b.

to swim through the fires by littledust (M, 37k, wangxian)

❤️Neatly Arranged by thunderwear (T, 46k, wangxian, my post)

Rebound Betrothal by mondengel (not rated (G), 2k, wangxian, my post)

History Will Call Us Wives by silvermarie (E, 17k, wangxian)

today was a smoking sky by typefortydeductions (E, 38k, wangxian)

~*~

2. hello! any recs wangxian modern au/mpreg? please and thank you!

Here’s my mpreg post (mostly current) and also

Brilliant Mistake by brooklinegirl (E, 54k, wangxian, my bookmark)

Winter Moon, White Rabbit by nachttour (E, 62k, wangxian, WIP)

Stale Spice, Sandalwood, and Nests by Tyongslips (M, 18k, wangxian, WIP)

~*~

3. Hello!! This might not be specific enough to find anything, but I was looking for modern wangxian fics that have a very distinct italicized 'oh' moments together? Like both of them or either of the pair doing something that makes them suddenly realize

every time we kiss i swear i could fly by sarahyyy (T, 3k, wangxian, my post)

【那夏天的我們】a stroke of fate by puddingcatbeans (G, 60k, wangxian)

not in so many words by jaws_3 (T, 18k, wangxian, my post)

~*~

4. In the mood for fics where WWX is genuinely afraid of LWJ, believing that he will kill him/hurt him/cast him out/haul him back to Gusu for punishment; with emphasis on LWJ's reaction when he realizes and it hits him like a sack of bricks, and ideally on his efforts to regain WWX's trust. Not looking for something where LWJ really does wish WWX significant harm, but it's ok if he has well-intended ideas that he doesn't realize would hurt him. Any time period, canon version, or AU is good. Example: decay by antebunny.

~*~

5. Hi there! First of all thank you for making such a helpful blog. I have been reading tons of great stories due to you. [I’m so glad!] Secondly I would love to read a fic (a) where lwj is a single dad and then meets wwx (b) Best modern au fics with lots of angst. Thanks!!! ~ @pastashouldbeeatenwithafork

5a.

❤️A Flower That Blooms In Adversity by thunderwear (M, 62k, wangxian, WIP, my post)

like wildflowers (we grow) by moonsteps (T, 80k, wangxian)

say it's here where our pieces fall in place by Lirelyn (E, 69k, wangxian)

plant a little happiness (let the roots run deep) by fleurdeliser (E, 48k, wangxian)

tear out the thread one by one from your skin (’til your bones feel embarrassed by all the attention) by lightningalwaysreturns (E, 41k, wangxian)

paint smears on sunny days by SnowshadowAO3 (E, 54k, wangxian)

love thy neighbor by wincechesters (M, 7k, wangxian)

No Need to Change a Tune by yeolinski (T, 10k, wangxian)

5b.

Tempo Rubato by Spodumene (E, 108, wangxian, my post)

A Sequence of Coming Outs by kippalittlefox (M, 24k, wangxian)

new york, i love you by Anonymous (T, 7k, wangxian)

leading tone by silencemostofall (G, 32, wangxian)

An Ocean Between Us by feenwitch (E, 11k, wangxian)

总有一天; a place to hide (can’t find one near) by yiqie (E, 76k, wangxian, *mind the tags!*)

me and you, always and forever by fyredancer (E, 150k, wangxian)

Momentum Deferred by DisasterBiAlert (T, 13k, wangxian, my post)

After the Final Rose by azurewaxwing (E, 55k, wangxian)

there's no promised goodbye here by Anonymous (T, 54k, wangxian)

defective requiems by Misila (M, 9k, wangxian)

❤️Common love isn't for us by feyburner (M, 8k, wangxian, my post)

twice by Misila (T, 8k, wangxian)

one good thing by Yuu_chi (T, 27k, wangxian, my post)

~*~

6. Hey! Can you rec some fics with wangxian being in cloud recesses or modern au of college?? Thanks!

I have tags for #students at cloud recesses and #college/university au

~*~

7. Would you happen to know any fics where lqr and wwx actually get along and have a good relationship? Lqr the scholar he is and wwx the inventor/genious ???? There are a lot of possibilities there. Thank you so much have a great day and stay hydrated!!!

❤️To have and to hold by Moominmammashandbag (M, 79k, wangxian, my post)

❤️to arrive late is better than not to arrive at all by Moominmammashandbag (M, 35k, wangxian, my post)

Just Say Yes by edenwolfie (M, 312k, wangxian)

Post-war baby! by like_a_bird_that_flew (E, 23k, wangxian, WIP)

Righteous at a Cost by thunderwear (G, 21k, wangxian, my bookmark)

~*~

8. Hello! I love your fic recs and the hard work you do! I've discovered so many new favourites thanks to you! [Yay!] I was wondering if you know of any fics where they're shapeshifters or some such? Animals or wing-fics or something similar? ❤

I have an official tag for #animal transformation, and on my AO3 wangxian collection (which returns more search results than tumblr) here is the search for shapeshifter, and wingfic

over forests and mountains by beechtree (T, 9k, wangxian, WIP)

~*~

9. hii do you know any fics that focus on lwj and lxc and their relation?? thanks <33

❤️Begotten by ecorie (G, 37k, wangxian, my post)

Brotherly Concern by Ibijau (G, 11k, wangxian, my post)

~*~

10. hellooo! do you know any fics where jiang cheng finds a-yuan instead of lwj? thank you for all your recs btw, they're super helpful!!! [Thank you!]

grieve the living by Misila (M, 161k, wangxian)

Overflow the autumn pools by Mhalachai (T, 74k, jiang cheng & lan wangji)

~*~

11. I love your blog! Thank you so much for all the wonderful recs! [Thank you!] I don't suppose you know of any fics where WWX is a non-human entity of some sort, but presents or is disguised as a human? (Or maybe he even thinks he is human?)

Cruise the tags mentioned above in #8, too.

❤️Spellbound by Latios (T, 37k, wangxian, my post)

When fish soar by mondengel (G, 2k, wangxian, my post)

Breathing Firestorm by ladyshadowdrake (M, 111k, wangxian)

flame and rust by cl410 (M, 29k, wangxian, WIP)

❤️The Tiger has Destroyed his Cage by updatebug (G, 55k, wangxian, my bookmark)

Magical Marriage Ribbons by starandrea (M, 376k, wangxian)

Ever Distant Shores by fuddy_duddy (rainier_day) (T, 69k wangxian, WIP)

~*~

12. Hiii do you know any fics where wwx or lwj OR wangxian leave the cultivation world/retire/grow old together away from cultivation drama? Something like And They Have Escaped The Weight of Darkness by cosmicmilktea , All that is solid melts into air by huxiyi , and that fic where post resurrection wwx just decides to not bother with dafan mountain and opens a flower shop: focal, filler, and line by bosbie.

Dan Tian / Heaven by ArchiveWriter (T, 20k, wangxian, WIP)

The Slow Regard of Silent Things by Moonpuddles (T, 3k, wangxian)

Pair of Swallows, you and I~ by Moonpuddles (T, 13k, wangxian, series in progress)

~*~

13. Hello! Do you know any fics where wangxian has some incompatibility issues/dysfunctional relationship that isnt because of canon typical one braincell wwx, but because of more structural things like their mental age gaps, how wwx will prolly hate cloud recesses after the honeymoon bliss is over etc. Generally fics that show wangxian having to work to build the relationship

~*~

14. Hi! Any wangxian onlyfans au fics? I read For a Good Time, Call by ScarlettStorm and the ongoing sequel KILF (Knits I'd Like To Fuck in) and those were so good!!! I'd like to find more similar fics!

Temptation's Mask by threerings (E, 58k, wangxian, camboy wwx)

A ghost by the light of the phone by shibrogane (E, 10k, wangxian)

~*~

15. Hey, do you have any fics where lxc doesn't like (or outright despises) wwx?

❤️to arrive late is better than not to arrive at all by Moominmammashandbag (M, 35k, wangxian, my post)

I don't like your boyfriend by lazulisong (G, 3k, wangxian, my post)

~*~

16. Do you know of any fics where the Lan Elders (unsuccessfully) try to make Lan Zhan marry someone other than Wei Ying?

Lie Open To One Another by levament (M, 41k, wangxian, WIP)

~*~

17. Hii! Do you know any fics that similar to Ardent Desires by crestre / Baby Of Mine by pupeez4eva ? I've been searching for it and want to read fics that similar to those so bad. I hope you and your followers can help me! Thankyouuu

The Trouble with Talismans: a Treatise on Time-Travel by Young Master Lan Xiaohui (Age 6) by stiltonbasket (G, 17k, wangxian, WIP)

~*~

18. Do you know any wangxian fics where either one or both of them are models/actors/musicians/famous in some way?

The Fault in Our Stars by Vamillepudding (T, 18k, wangxian, my post)

Patient came so hard from prostate exam he kicked me in the dick by Hades_the_Blingking (e, 17k, wangxian, my post)

An ocean in a drop (not a drop in the ocean) by dea_liberty (E, 10k, RPF, yizhan, my post)

how to fall in love with a catfish: a guide by wei wuxian (disaster rat) by Anonymous (T, 55k, wangxian, my post)

Make It Count by wearing_tearing (E, 47k, wangxian, my bookmark)

❤️Love wakes me by dea_liberty (e, 46k, wangxian, my post)

life, drama and action by Akai__hana (G, 13k, wangxian)

call me, beep me by myung (T, 39k, wangxian)

Rest by sassybluee (T, 115k, wangxian)

~*~

19. hello, i'm searching for a fic where wwx like... transmigrates into mdzs/cql? like i think there were a couple of them and but i can't find them for some reason?

Untitled. by c11to (M, 61k, wangxian, WIP)

#wangxian #mdzs #the untamed #wangxian fic finder #in the mood for a fic #i haven't read these unless noted #crowd-sourcing #fic finding #fic finder

223 notes · View notes

seb-owns-these-tatas · 4 years

Text

Witcher of the Night (Chapter 13.1)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

UPDATES FOR WITCHER OF THE NIGHT WILL BE PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY NOW IN MY TIME (GMT +8)

CHAPTER 13

WITCHER OF THE NIGHT MASTERLIST

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: Geralt could feel what you also feel and he was cursing the Djinn for making you both feel this way because it was a feeling that was certainly irresistible for one man to ever control. You were in heat, and it doesn’t seem to be such a good idea for the witcher to try and resist.

Warnings: This is just a filler chapter for the smut in the next chapter. Ahonhonhon! Kind of Jealous Geralt too? Lowkey? Hehehehe. A cute bard and Cirilla having the period-syndrome (I’m having it too rn and I’m thirsty for Geralt or any of Henry’s character. DAMN IT) I’ve given a name to the Djinn they’ve found because I’ve tried searching but found no name for every Djinn they find in the witcher? I think? Reader being so needy and in heat. (The animal type of heat for reasons..) Also, reader is...a virgin.

Words: 4.5k

A/N: You probably want to strangle me so hard right now, bb’s. I’m in the phase of a writer where I’m procrastinating stuff but not exactly a writer’s block. Just want to do things besides writing all day or I’m prolly just sleepy with no damn reason since last week. 😅😒

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE! Sorry for the grammatical errors and such because English isn’t my mother tongue!

Disclaimer: PNG’s used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. However, the edits and oneshots are definitely from moi. Characters, places and said monsters aren’t from moi as well. GIF’s INCLUDED ARE CREDITED TO THOSE WHO MADE THEM! I DO NOT OWN THEM!

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

"Well, you're in a greater bad mood right now, rat." Jaskier frankly stated, wiping his lute with a cloth.

The night was serene with your heart strings balled up in a yarn. Your emotions consisting of woe with a face as if you lost a shit ton of money. You sat together with Jaskier in the middle of the vast leigh, knees touching against each other as the bard quietly sat with you in silence.

A bright purple evenfall draws nigh along the sky, stars finally becoming visible as you admired how beautiful their skies were. Less pollution and more aesthetic, though a lot more eccentricity happening around more than earth.

You've exhaled one last sigh, mouth in a tight frown as you took notice of the moon that was in replete. A perfect shape of a circle as it shines bright.

"Is the witcher being an imbecile again?" the bard ceased his cleaning, giving you his sole attention as he watched your face contort in utmost upset. But, you chose to just let the sorrow go for a moment, admiring the stars and skies like it wasn't laughing back at you from how delusional you were for having strong feelings for the witcher, "Don't start, Jaskier."

"Your cantankerous attitude shown in your cherubic face tells me that you are gradually adapting Geralt's crabbiness because you accepted the position in being his lover---," Jaskier has managed to bluntly say, carefully placing his lute on the grass as he narrowed his eyes at you, "---Though, it does seem like a sacrifice, small rat. Your kindness shall be missed. I would like to see you try and let Geralt adapt to your naivity and sweetness. The vision is pretty hilarious, if you ask me!"

Your frown even grew tighter when he mentioned the word 'lover', shoulders falling from how dismayed you were from hearing it.

"I'm not his lover."

The bard couldn't help but raise a skeptical brow back at you, remembering what he saw last night. He knew he wasn't hallucinating nor daydreaming, "Oh, so kissing under the moonlight is considered as a friendly gesture in my era now? If so, then this means you wouldn't mind kissing me too!"

He puckered his lips, making smooching sounds as slowly tried to teasingly close the gap between you both as Jaskier pouted to act as if he was about to give you a kiss on the cheek when you've yelped and immediately had your palms over his mouth, gently pushing his face away from you, "Jaskier! What are you even---?!"

He comfortably sat back down and had his knee over his chest prior to the position he had now, which was in criss-cross as he playfully shrugged. His pretty baby blues looking at the darkening sky, "A shame. I've been told by countable lads and lasses that I do kiss like I take their breath away,"

You tutted at that, shaking your head from his teasing and tried to send a hostile sally, "You suck then. Do you want them dying because of lack of breath?"

Your animosity has been curved by the bard. He seemed like he was acting like he didn't hear you as he let his eyes flicker to you again; going on with his jests, "Thank you by the way. I've been sleeping much soundly since the couple of days and you seemed to be having such wonderful dreams every night,"

Bawdy indications were hinted in between Jaskier's words; making you give him a glare that obviously made him grin like he won the lottery; thinking that your previous rendezvous back in Geralt's room when he wasn't around had some provocative explanations.

He didn't know your symbol was hurting a lot more on those nights where Geralt wasn't around.

You brush off his ribald comment, "I didn't do it for you,"

"I thought you were actually asking for forgiveness by calling me a horse's arse minutes ago? You're knowing the blasphemy of our language but totally naive of every monsters and places we have here. It doesn't seem to be such a thing to be proud of,"

Jaskier continued his blathers without even letting you talk, freely letting you give him death glares because he seemed to be more mouthy as days go by. You turn a deaf ear to exhale an exasperated breath, "I'm taking it back. You're still annoying as heck," before unabashedly laying your head down on his lap.

His yakking has been brought to a halt when he'd felt your head fall on his lap, the bard suddenly uttering quizzical gibbers that you continued to ignore as you felt the bracing wind hit your body; appreciating the eventide in quietude.

"Alright, alright! I'm not complaining...Ughm," Jaskier cleared his throat, anxiously scratching his head as he tried his best not to look at you.

The fullness of the moon has been drawing you in again. In a tranquil night, it was as if the stars began to whisper sweet nothings, lately realizing that their soft whispers has actually been your wishes; albeit, you've broken them down together, your whims willing and having no desire for you to actually come back in earth.

With only one thing in your mind, it was to stay with Geralt and his family.

But, do you really mean it? If you would choose earth or their dimension, were you serious that you wanted to stay?

Though, for him; you weren't that sure if he also wanted the same thing. If Geralt wasn't around, you were probably already dead, have been sold by noblemen or eaten by their monsters.

But, the stars seemed to jump out of the sky when you've heard a loud thundercrack of a door that came from the inside of their house, snapping the bard quiet as the noise tugged you out of your happy place; a place that you hoped Geralt came with.

The night has went slower, time ticking a lot more deliberately when one person is probably upset with another. Especially, when the person you were upset with lived in the same house as you and even was the owner of the bed you sleep on.

You were beginning to feel rickety as seconds pass by while Jaskier tried worming out whatever he had asked to Cirilla whom was feeding Kolby with a basket full of obsolete bread.

"Tell me why the back door is now broken off its hinges?" he asked in incredulity, hands on his hips as he had seen the brown, wooden door hanging with all its life, trying hard not to fall.

Hence, as they continued their talk; you couldn't help but massage that aching part of your chest, the one where the symbol laid upon the valley of your breasts as you heavily breathed.

It was attacking again.

The weight and fiery phantom of fingers grasping your heart more severe rather than the nights you had it felt like a rabid monster wanted to come out of cage. Their cold weather suddenly all swelter; as if you were walking on burnt out coals with one person clouding your mind.

Geralt.

You needed him, wanted him and yearned for his presence.

Cirilla gave a blatant shrug of her shoulders; sounding completely phlegmatic as she answered, "I don't know, bard. I didn't scream if that will make you any less more worried,"

Jaskier had his eyebrows furrowed as he keenly pondered as to why their door was broken all of a sudden, "Has there been a beast?" his slim, calloused fingers moved restlessly; dwelling onto what has raided their own home. The bard looked anywhere, continuing to be in distress while Cirilla patted the Hirikka's head with utmost care as she watched him devour everything in the basket, "You mean, Geralt?" she gave Jaskier a once over before turning back to look at Kolby, thoroughly undisturbed that it was the witcher's doing, "---He went out for a second and then came back, breaking the door off its hinges. But, he promised to fix it,"

Jaskier's head veered to where she was crouched in the middle of the living room, his baby blue eyes full of concern as he opened his mouth to tell all his inquiries but was instantly shut closed when he'd seen you hunched in his peripheral vision, palms on your knees as you were breathing like you were being chased by another Alghoul.

The latter took heed of those sweat drops falling on the side of your face as you were heaving deep breaths. Your head was darkening in assailing images of those familiar amber eyes you've grown to be thoroughly fond of; longing to be consumed by those glowing golden aureate.

You've heard someone walking closer to where you stood, seeing Jaskier crouch to give you a scrutiny of his baby blues. Bright azures. You didn't yearn for that. All you wanted was golden. His golden and you couldn't help but whimper, your chest has giving you agony as if you were being pricked in the heart by small needles, "You're sweating like a rabid---rat, are you alright?"

Another deep inhale of your breath; you breathlessly muttered, "I am Jaskier---It's just---" nevertheless, those train of thoughts couldn't be completed by the excruciating pain that ignited a troubled mewl. You straightened your back, making Jaskier stand up as well to scan your face for any signs as to what was happening to you, but only had seen your face painfully contorted in a way that tells him you were in agony.

"It's hot. Too hot," pause. You swallowed the tight knot of confining sensations wanting to be let out, "---Abnormally hot. Hot in two different ways; like I wanna be impaled or something!"

At your most forthright honesty, your statement has made the bard blink rapidly from how blunt it sounded, being taken aback by how outspoken you suddenly become; a thorough change of your bashful self, "You're actually revealing lewd facts that should be kept to yourself. You are certainly not alright!"

You could feel yourself grow hotter, the heat being scorching and aching at the same time. Your legs began to weaken and you can't help but fold like a paper, squat down and the position was utmost impuissant; totally vulnerable with your palms on your ears as you tried to shut down the restless whispering that went on and on; ceaseless as you had no power over it.

Jaskier began to panic; his face brimful of dread, "----GERALT? WE HAVE A PROBLEM DOWN HERE!"

The soughing of breathless whispers were relentless, no matter how you tried to cover your ears; they just keep coming. It was incessant, never ending despite of how they were giving your chest a pain that seem to be unyielding as they went on and on.

Witcher. You wanted the witcher. You needed him, you longed for him.

"Stop saying the word witcher, Jaskier!" you abruptly scolded, sounding too jarring and ear-piercing; void of kindness as you could feel the aggravation going to your head with the additional non-stop rustle of voices. The bard eyed you skeptically as he added, finding your rebuke rather surprising and odd because he never said anything about it, "I wasn't even uttering a word!"

Warm, slender fingers fell on your shoulders; trying his best to comfort you while the witcher wasn't coming down from his chambers yet. Nevertheless, from the moment he'd touch you, the toubadour has received a harsh slap of his hand being pushed away.

"Jaskier!" you harshly spat, your nose scrunched from how discomforting you were feeling.

He was quick to haul his arms up in surrender, stepping a foot away as he looked at you in horror, "Alright---I'm not touching you then!"

Another strained bleat left your lips as you were now fully sat on the floor, holding your chest as you continued to heave, shaking your head from the perpetual torment that tries its best to scream blandishments that sounded abridged. Some were incomprehensible and other words sounded lucid.

Destiny has it's price. It sounded just like a rustle of the winds as the shushed voices continued its onslaught. Two souls, together as one. Bound for eternal rest or a life forever. Zephyr shall protect. You cannot outrun death.

Your whimpers started to gradually increase, mewling in the process when you've exhaled a sigh as the needles seem to turn bigger, "It hurts, I swear it really hurts!" you screeched, body feeling like you were dropped in hot, molten lava as you were hearing foot steps treading in haste, "Geralt's coming, don't worry, rat."

Kolby prowled to where you sat; eternal mewls never ceasing as sexual, pent-up aggression was starting to travel to your head, but you tried to fight them off. Though, it ignited more pain as you struggled. Cirilla suddenly snapped her head to where you were, a tight lipped frown etching her face as she jogged to where you sat.

"Is she okay?" the pretty child asked in worry, watching you battle with something they couldn't see nor feel. Jaskier raised a brow; looking sardonic as he acknowledged, "No, she certainly isn't, Princess Cirilla."

She gave him a lour as she snarled; her riposte sounding a lot like the witcher because of how harsh it sounded, "I'm not in the mood for your sarcastic nonsense, bard."

Jaskier was unfazed as he took her retort like it was nothing, "Ooooh, is this how period--is it called period---does to a lassie?"

They're retaliations had them unaware of Geralt's presence who came marching down the stairs with an unfathomable expression on his face; the trepidation never seen in his features as it was emotionless, never giving anybody the panic that Jaskier, Cirilla and Kolby has been feeling when you've suddenly began bawling your eyes out from the thumping pain.

The witcher hurriedly crouched before you, his glowing amber eyes thoroughly scanning your features if there was anything weird happening; but to his discontent, Geralt noticed none.

He felt everything. Your frustration, pent-up aggression; venereal desires or not, the twinge of scorching ache that can't be relieved due to constraints given from the latter himself when he'd chose jurisdiction over his carnal wishes that you also wished.

But, he'd been bull-headed for his reasons; Geralt was not bargained for the repercussions held because of having no permanent proof that you were also suffering every night.

Just like him. Hence, the both of you needed relief. Corporeal appetites released for the betterment of both.

"She's in heat," Geralt rasped, trying to hear what you've been begging for and he sensed that you were hearing voices that continues to assault you, paining your chest as you were unaware of his presence that loom before you.

"What? Oh, Geralt! Cease the utter balderdash!" Jaskier exclaimed, eyeing the witcher who squat down in front of you.

Geralt's amber eyes has been searching for yours, but you've never let him see as you continued your hushed begging. He had his chiseled jaw clenched so tight, every breath he takes was also giving his chest a potent congesting pain that he can somehow resist. His medallion was vibrating wildly, alarming him that there was magic surrounding him.

Therefore, he knew the pain wasn't just one to disregard because he knew your pain has explanations that is needed to foresee.

Was the Djinn still in there? Keeping you as a host?

No. Impossible. The witcher thought at the back of his head because there were times that his medallion doesn't vibrate whenever he's around you, it only happened now and back then when you were possessed.

It was impossible that the Djinn was keeping you as its master as well. You could die if that ever happened. The seal was gone and never found back in the swamps, meaning to say it was already gone; broke free from its confinement because you already had three of your wishes.

Jaskier couldn't help but notice how clean and fixed Geralt's hair was. Hence, he'd started to acknowledge the aesthetic difference he claimed, "Also, did you just braid your majestic chalky white hair all by yourself?! Or did you do it, Princess Cirilla?" he bargained, utterly stunned from Geralt and his hair being braided, dubiously eyeing the lion cub of Cintra.

But, she only gave a nonchalant negation, "No."

"Oh, the rat did! She did a great job at making you look so feminine tonight, Geralt!"

Geralt paid no heed to Jaskier's teasing compliments, wanting nothing but to roll his eyes but ceased to do so as your fingers began to shake, his mind now in a perturbed fret as his gaze shifted anywhere to see what was causing your whole situation because he sees nothing. A tight furrow of his eyebrows tightly creased his forehead, "---The Djinn has given her effects for whatever the symbol does to her, bard."

Jaskier crouched beside where Geralt is, receiving a truculent glare that made the bard move away for an inch because his bellicose aura was radiating off him too much, "Symbol? What symbol?"

"I'm not showing you her chest." he bluntly chided as a low growl vibrated through his chest, giving Jaskier a hostile look in his glowing peepers.

The toubadour did a double-take, his mouth turning into an offended 'O' as he held a palm on top of his chest as he gestured to your squatted form, "I wasn't even asking you if I could see her breasts!"

"Then, shut up and stop asking."

Jaskier huffed, sulking beside the witcher because of how he'd suddenly become such a grump.

You've muttered a soft mewl, tightly closing your ears with your palms as you suddenly talked out loud, "I need Geralt. Where's Geralt?!" it was the only name you could hear, echoing inside your head as the heat traveled through your veins, searing and extremely scorching all of a sudden.

Your heartbeat was loudly drumming out of your chest. Sweat dripping down your face as the pain and heat was starting to make you feel lightheaded, his scent crashing through your senses. Earthy, pinewood and a mix of mannishness.

Geralt.

"Don't touch me!" It felt like you were burning; but also finding some aid to the ache as it soothed your heated skin like ice to the fire. You've felt his thick, rough fingers fall on your shoulder, making you jerk back as you looked at him; completely mortified for a second, "I'm here, midget." before the witcher tightened his hold on you, those fingers clasping around your feeble arm as he gazed upon you in deep concern.

"It's alright. Calm down, it's me." Geralt gently hushed your frantic state, softly grabbing the side of your jaw to make you look at him.

When he did, your eyes were dark and dilated, filled with carnal.

"You're having a hot spell," he roughly forced the words out of him, heavily swallowing whatever you were feeling because he's also having the same problems, but chose to restrain himself; doing a better job than any most men would, "A--A literal spell?" you didn't catch his drift and feel yourself breathing deep, his scent soothing your nerves as it also does the same for him.

Geralt shook his head, his fingers strapped on the side of your neck making his hand feel the pleasuring jolt. You've felt his fingers slightly tremble as your eyes were beseeching, those dilated pupils of yours tormenting him, "No. You're in heat, midget." pause. he lowly growled in displeasure, amber eyes pooling in keen, "---which explains your cravings for touches and the need for coition,"

Your face scrunched in pain and a mixture of pent-up frustration, the voices inside your head slowly dying down as it was now drowning in the witcher's unique, baritone timbre of his that was making you feel giddy before a jolt of pain rose up your chest again, "What am I---an animal?! Geralt, make it stop!"

Jaskier and Cirilla listened in silence. However, the bard fidgeted with the hem of his tunic; his mindless frets seeming to come up with such suggestions that will make everyone's mind boggle.

He raised a hand, not before taking a good look at you who had eyes pure of anguish and need which now focused at Geralt before he'd loudly cleared his throat, turning his head to see the witcher in distress from what other methods he could think of other than the impaling, "I have a proposal and an utterly brilliant idea to make the pain stop!"

Cirilla hushedly snorted, "His ideas are always nonsense. Don't listen to him, Geralt."

Jaskier placed his hands on his hips, pointing a finger at the princess, mouth opening before he was immediately ceased by Geralt himself.

"The princess is right, bard."

The sonneeter noted his lukewarm response, sounding like he actually opposes what Cirilla has reprimanded because all Geralt ever wanted and what clouds his mind is having his way with you, "---Give the small rat what she wants, Witcher. What if the pain carries on as nights go by? Give her the rumpy pumpy since that is always the answer to why an animal is in heat. It wants coitus, or if you've become one soft, romantic witcher; then I suggest to use the word, 'make love'." he emphasized, quoting the word 'make love' with both hands, his middle finger and index one folding as he said the last word with ardor.

Geralt was quick to scowl at that, exhaling an exasperated breath out of his nose as he hummed in protest; giving the bard his meanest glare, "You're saying she's an animal. You want me to take advantage of it?"

"No?" Jaskier quickly shook his head, groaning out; palms faintly hitting his forehead as he tried to act as if he was slapping it from Geralt's unreasonable assumptions. He continued, languidly blinking back at the frowning witcher, "---I didn't even say you would take advantage of the idea, you nincompoop! Then, do you want me to mate with her?"

It took him a second before he'd seen the latter started giving blazing daggers that had fire in it, his words seething as Geralt gruffly barked, "Absolutely not, bard!"

His glowing, amber eyes were boring holes at Jaskier before he lowly rumbled; more so to himself, trying to convince himself that there was another way.

He was dithering the idea of having you; not because he didn't find you pleasant, fetching, alluring or beautiful. Geralt found you in many types of wonderful adjectives he could tell, though mostly was kept inside his mind. The idea of having you, only to himself; ravishing you in ways that he ought to please kept him faltering because of one thing in his mind.

Vulnerability.

The witcher was thoroughly cautious of vulnerability because whenever it happens; once the walls have been broken down, there was always hindrance coming in his way and with the person he'd promised were important, or a person he loved because he knew that once he has you, Geralt was done for no matter how unstable he was.

You'll be seeing things you've never seen nor felt from him as he does the same way.

Especially, that you never came from their dimension and that the feelings he had for you was too strong to even control. But, the voices at the back of his mind was pulling him away from even pouring those emotions down because firstly, he didn't know how to show and second, there was a huge chance that you would also leave.

What if you leave? a person he'd treasured so much begins to leave him again?

Geralt mindlessly gritted his teeth together as he grumbled and grouched, avoiding the bard's eyes as he watched you shakily grab onto his palms that tenderly rested on the side of your face; leaning onto his touch as you looked at him; utterly lovestruck, "We'll find another way," pause. "---There has to be."

Though, it seems like the bard hasn't heard his beseeching and continued with his witful suggestions, "The only way is to impale her to cease the sufferings that the spell has cast upon her by the Djinn," Jaskier promptly stood up on his feet, his anxiety making him blurt out mindless blabbers he could ever think of, "---There is nothing to lose on this one, Geralt. Especially that you're...no offense---"

Geralt cut him off in haste, surly spitting out his words, "There is, Jaskier. Her purity."

Jaskier pointed back at the witcher, completely looking taken aback as he opened his mouth like he was stunned, "Oh." was the only thing he managed to say for the first few seconds before he quietly muttered, "OooooOh. She's a?"

The Ivory haired man gave a brief nod, "Untouched." he frankly informed as Cirilla quietly listened in the background with Kolby howling loudly in the middle of the night like a wolf in disguise, "---Oh! This is an unorthodox for the series of women that you have had, Geralt! Also, she's a rare one indeed!"

Jaskier couldn't help but feel dumbstruck from his suggestions, shamefully scratching the back of his nape as he has given the whole responsibility to Geralt because he could never help. He always never does because of some sorts that he couldn't explain, probably because he wasn't taught with these magical phenomena that Geralt expertly knows.

When the witcher has given you his attention, you've abruptly attacked him in a bear hug, arms tightly wrapped around his thick neck that you wanted to softly pepper kisses. As you were caging him in your arms, his delicious scent wafted through your nose, welcoming how it was indeed mouthwatering for your blazing appetite or carnal greed.

"I want to have you, Geralt. I--I need to have you! These thoughts inside my head...It needs you, I--I need you," you begged, softly pleading like there wasn't anyone around you; not noticing Cirilla, Kolby nor Jaskier as there was only one person in your mind. Geralt of Rivia. Your Geralt. Your witcher. The only person who gives you fluttering butterflies and wild ants inside your stomach and chest.

You've tucked your face in between your arm and his braided hair, breathing the back of his ear like a wild woman as Geralt stood still and heard your whimpers that went straight to his stronghold, his will in finding another method to help suddenly wavering from how soft and provocative it sounded that clouded his mind.

He turned relaxed in your arms, accepting the bear hug and probably loving how close you both were together after hours of not talking to each other. You've felt his calloused palm caress your clothed back, soothing your pained mewls that came after your sensual whimpers as it was unstable. Geralt gently unlatched your arms that surrounds him, his golden peepers meeting your baffled ones before he had no problem in scooping you up in his arms, like newly wed couples.

"We'll think of other ways, midget. Come. Let's help you with the heat,"

Cliffhanger before the smut? I’M SORRY, BB’S. LOVE MEEEE STILLLLLL!

Taglist: @alyxkbrl @himarisolace @barkingbullfrog @ayamenimthiriel @hellodevilslittlesister @vania-marie @spookypeachx @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us @nympeth @amirahiddleston @gabethelobster @dreaming-about-starfleet @uncoolcloudyhead @melaninstylezz @psychosupernatural @missjenniferb @dance-dreamer @marvelousell @kingniazx @angelias134 @tapismyforte @chook007 @covid-donotenter @winter-moons @cheesecakeisapie @silverkitten547 @angelofthorr @carrieannewaywardson @plantingmum, @stuckupstucky, @shesthelastjedi

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ddixons-angel · 4 years

Text

Fated: Season 3

Summary: Gloria Rhee narrowly escapes Atlanta with her brother as the outbreak reaches the city. Luckily, they find a camp outside the city and together, they fend through encounters with the living and undead.

Starts a little before Season 1 and then follows the main storyline of the show.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Glenn Sister!OC

Warnings: major TWD spoilers, language, violence (the typical TWD stuff), character death

A/N: And we’re back with another chapter! A bunch of stuff happens here so please do let me know what you guys think!

Chapter 7

Daryl had separated with the rest of his old group and gone off with Merle, like how it was supposed to be in the beginning. Just him and Merle wandering the woods together, tracking and hunting their dinner. Unfortunately, they didn’t catch much, only a few squirrels to split between the brothers. Daryl wasn’t with Merle; physically he was, but his heart and mind weren’t. All he could think of was Gloria, and what Glenn had told him today. She loves him.

“Foods gettin’ cold, baby brother.” Merle calls out as Daryl stares into the campfire they’d lit.

Daryl grunts and throws his portion to Merle, then continues his staring contest with the embers. Merle glances at their supper then back up at Daryl, eyeing him with a frown.

“Wha’s wrong wit’ ya? Missin’ yer old pals, that it?” Merle accuses and scoffs when Daryl doesn’t respond, “or is it about what the chinaman said ‘bout Gloria?”

Daryl finally looks up at Merle when he says her name, earning a cackle from the older Dixon.

“So, ya were finally able to step up yer game after I was gone, huh? How far’d ya get with her?” Merle heckles, leaning in.

“Don’ know what the hell ya talkin’ ‘bout.” Daryl mutters, throwing a few sticks into the fire.

“Don’ think I didn’ see how ya were lookin’ at her since day one, little brother.” Merle says, making Daryl look at him warily, “yeah, I saw it. Ya were like a beast eyein’ its prey, ya wanted her bad.”

Daryl looks back down at the fire, hoping that Merle wouldn’t catch the blush in his cheeks. He couldn’t deny that what Merle was saying was true, the moment he laid eyes on Gloria he was attracted to her. Her beauty was beyond compare to any other woman he’s seen, and his attraction to her only grew the more time he spent with her. Gloria was someone who could carry her own and not need to be protected, hell, she could beat up Merle without breaking a sweat, and that only made him want her more. So, when she offered herself to him at the C.D.C., he couldn’t resist her, especially with the alcohol in his system.

“Did ya fuck her?” Merle smirks, trying to get a reaction out of him.

“Don’ talk ‘bout her like that.” Daryl mumbles, his fingers fidgeting with a rock.

Merle scoffs, “fine, did ya ‘make love’ to her? ‘S that better?”

Daryl glares at Merle, “what’s it even matter to ya? Ain’t yer damn business anyway!”

“I’m jus’ concerned for my brother! Ya got yer mind all wrapped ‘round this one girl, can’t think straight, can’t hunt, can’t even eat! Let me tell ya, that girl prolly don’ give a rats ass ‘bout ya.” Merle makes it over to Daryl’s side and puts his hand on his shoulder, “I’m the only one who’s ever gonna care ‘bout ya, little brother, don’t ya think otherwise.”

Daryl’s eyes narrow at his words, his blood boiling as he shrugs his brother’s hand off him angrily, “she cares. She cares more 'bout me than ya ever cared to show!”

“The hell ya talkin’ ‘bout?!” Merle shouts back, angrily getting up as Daryl stands.

“Ever since she brought us back to that camp, she cared! She helped me when I was hurt and made me feel like I was part of the group when she didn’t need to!” Daryl yells.

“She was jus’ usin’ you! Ya hunt for the group and bring ‘em fresh meat, tha’s why she helped ya!” Merle argues.

“She cared ‘bout ya too but ya didn’ give ‘em nothin’.” Daryl spits out.

Merle frowns at this, “how’d she care ‘bout me? Huh? Punchin’ me in the face and tryin’ to break my arm in front o’ everyone?”

“How ‘bout stayin’ wit’ ya on that roof and makin’ sure ya didn’ bleed out when ya cut off yer own damn hand?!” Daryl reminds him, “she saved yer life and what did ya do? Stuff her into a damn closet and leave her there?! She blamed herself for ya leavin’, ya know that?!”

“I did what I had to, a'right?!” Merle shouts back, “ya have any idea how many damn walkers were on ‘em streets? Makin’ their way into where we were? Huh? I had to go alone, I had to lead 'em away! Otherwise, ya and the Chinese kid wouldn’t’ve gotten to her ‘fore gettin’ bit.”

The brothers stare at each other in silence for a moment before Daryl sighs and looks away, “they’re Korean.”

“Whatever...” Merle scoffs, “look, she can't be the last woman out there, we can find ya another one if tha-”

“No!” Daryl cuts off Merle before he can finish, “I ain’t gonna care ‘bout any other woman like I care ‘bout her. She’s special to me an'... we had somethin’ good goin’... best thing I ever had goin’ on in my whole life!”

Merle falters at his brother’s confession, “y-ya gonna go back to 'em then?”

“Nah...” Daryl sighs, “she’s gonna be pissed that I left in the first place... might never come back from that...”

“‘M sorry.” Merle says, almost sounding sincere.

“Only thing special I ever had and I fuck it up ‘cause o’ ya...” Daryl mumbles and walks away.

---

Unable to sleep, Gloria had spent the entire night up on the platform. She’s been keeping a lookout for any potential threat to the prison, looking for any kind of distraction from the pain in her heart. She saw Sasha and her group leaving the prison the night before, figuring that Rick had made a decision that they weren't welcome, but Gloria didn't care. She glances to the side as she hears the door to the platform open as Glenn comes to join her.

“Hey, you need to take a break, you’ve been out here since yesterday afternoon, rest and eat something.” Glenn tries to convince her but as she doesn’t respond, he sighs and sits down next to her, “look, I know Daryl meant a lot to you-”

“Did he?” Gloria scoffs bitterly, not even looking at Glenn.

“Yeah, I’d say so, I’ve never seen you so worked up over a break up before.” Glenn frowns at her reaction.

“Break up? This isn’t a break up, Glenn, you wanna know why?” she snaps, finally turning to look at Glenn, “Because there was never anything to break in the first place! All those times you asked me if there was anything between me and Daryl, I told you there was nothing because that was the truth! There is nothing going on between me and Daryl because we mean nothing to each other!”

Glenn looks at her sympathetically, he knew that denial was her way to cope with what she was going through, that if she kept denying it, maybe she'd end up believing it herself, “you know that’s not true... Daryl almost came back when I mentioned you.”

“Yeah... the keyword there being ‘almost’.” Gloria laughs bitterly, her sarcasm breaking through her words.

Realizing that this was not the approach to go for, Glenn tries something else, “Daryl might not be here but you still are, and we still need you with us. Maggie’s going through a lot and Rick isn’t fully in his right mind. You’re the only one who can hold the group together.”

Gloria sighs at his words; Glenn definitely knew her too well. He knew that she would only be willing to take care of herself if it’s for the sake and convenience of others.

“Someone needs to keep watch.” Gloria says in a small voice.

Glenn gestures for her to go, “I’ll be here. And get some food while you’re at it.”

Gloria nods and gets up, walking past Glenn, “I still plan on sleeping up here tonight.” causing Glenn to chuckle at her.

She makes her way down to the main area and takes some food Carol had made for the group then heads over to the cell block to check up on Maggie. She sees her lying on the bed, her frontside facing the wall. Gloria goes up to her bedside and gently pats her shoulder.

“Have you eaten yet?” Gloria asks.

Maggie glances up at her then looks back to the wall, “no, I’m not hungry.”

“There’s still food out in the kitchen if your stomach changes its mind, and if you need anyone to talk to, I’m here for you.” Gloria says, not wanting to pry into what happened at Woodbury.

Maggie nods, “I know... thank you.”

Gloria exits the cell and heads outside to the picnic bench where she can oversee the courtyard, she starts to pick at the food on her plate. She watches as Rick is on the outside of the fences picking off walkers as Hershel is on the inside of the fences, accompanying their leader. Carol and Axel are overlooking the courtyard as well but standing closer to the inner fences of the prison. Gloria jumps at the sudden sound of a gunshot and sees Axel fall to the ground, his body falling on Carol as more gunfire erupts onto the prison.

“Carol!” Gloria shouts as she jumps off the table to gain cover.

Maggie runs out from the prison as she heard the gunfire from inside, carrying rifles and shooting at whoever was shooting at them.

“Carol, go! I’ll cover you!” she shouts as she shoots.

The gunfire ceases and Carol is able to get to where Maggie was hiding, she straps on the rifle Maggie had given her and gets ready for the second round of gunfire. The roar of an engine disturbs the silence as a van heads straight towards the prison, ramming through the gate. It stops in the middle of the courtyard and the backend of the van drops open, letting dozens of walkers stumble out.

Gloria had made her way over to the fence and panics when she sees the herd going straight towards Hershel who had fallen inside the courtyard, “Maggie, Carol, cover me!”

Gunfire erupts again as Gloria dashes towards the gate, opening it and slamming it closed behind her as she rushes out into the courtyard. She runs towards the herd of walkers, flailing her arms around.

“Hey! Hey! This way! Over here!” Gloria shouts at them, taking their attention away from Hershel.

"What is she doing?!" Maggie wonders aloud as she shoots, covering Gloria from any potential bites.

Carol looks around, examining the situation and spots Hershel in the field, "she's trying to save Hershel."

Unsheathing her daggers, Gloria stabs any walkers that come too close to her. The driver door of the van pops open and the driver climbs out, taking out his gun and pointing it directly at Gloria.

“Shit...” Gloria swears as she sees this, walkers starting to surround her.

Two simultaneous shots are fired. The first one being Carol’s, hitting the driver’s throat; the second from the driver’s gun, hitting Gloria in the shoulder causing her to fall to the ground. The herd is now split in half; one half going towards the driver and eating him alive, the other half making their way towards Gloria who fights her way through the walkers. To her relief, a katana swings right above her, killing the walkers coming for her and freeing Gloria.

“Come on.” Michonne helps Gloria stand and directs her to start running towards the truck Glenn had driven into the courtyard.

They both climb into the truck and Gloria is relieved to see Hershel is safe and sound in the truck. As Glenn drives towards the gate, Hershel looks over to Gloria who is pale and looking weak.

“Gloria... you’ve been shot.” he announces when he sees her bloody shoulder, causing Glenn to worriedly glance in the rearview mirror.

“It’s a deep one...” Gloria groans in pain.

Glenn drives the truck through the open gate, parking the truck he quickly helps Michonne carry Gloria into the cell block.

“Maggie, get the supplies, we need to get the bullet out of Gloria!” Hershel calls out as he goes into the cell block with the others.

Michonne and Glenn rush Gloria into an empty cell on the lower level of their block. Setting her on the bed then moving back to give Hershel room as he examines her wound. Gloria glances at Hershel and sees a frown on his face.

“I-is it really as b-bad as it feels?” Gloria says, breathless.

“It’s a deep wound like you said.” Hershel looks over at her with a serious look, “your bone stopped it from going straight through, and it’s close to your joint.”

Knowing what Hershel is getting at, she groans, “so if you don’t get it out now, I might not be able to use my arm again.”

“It’s going to be excruciatingly painful for you, Gloria.” Hershel tells her, concern all over his face.

“Well, I can’t exactly wait for any anesthetic to kick in, can I?” Gloria grimaces, then she looks over to Hershel’s oldest daughter, “Maggie, get me a towel to bite on.”

“Glenn,” Hershel calls out to him, “I need you to hold down your sister, try and distract her from the pain.”

Glenn sits on the lower half of the bed and leans his body on Gloria’s legs, holding her hands in place, “It’s gonna be okay, sis, you’re gonna be okay.”

Maggie comes back with a clean towel and Gloria takes it in her mouth, biting onto it as Hershel looks at her with steady eyes. She nods at him, doing her best to ready herself for the pain to come. Hershel digs into the wound, causing Gloria to scream out in agony as she squeezes Glenn’s hands tightly, trying her best not to thrash her body.

Outside the cell block, Rick had just come inside with Daryl and Merle. He let Daryl know that Gloria hadn’t been the same since he left. Rick frowns when he sees Carol rushing into the cell block with towels, he also sees Beth and Carl looking on from outside the cell, a look of fear and worry on their faces. Before Rick could even ask what happened, a blood curdling shriek erupts from inside the cell.

“Carol, who is it?” Rick asks.

Carol glances over at him with teary eyes then spots Daryl, “it’s Gloria.”

Blood drains from Daryl’s face at the news and he dashes into the cell block but Carol holds him back from going into the cell.

“You can’t go in! Hershel’s still removing the bullet!” Carol shouts at him through her tears.

Daryl is right at the cell, standing outside as he watches Gloria crying and screaming in pain and agony. His heart breaks at the sight of her being in so much pain. To Gloria, it felt like hours had passed when in actuality it was only a few minutes when Hershel had finally gotten the bullet out. She lets out a pained whimper as her grip on Glenn’s hands loosen. Glenn starts to panic when he sees her unconscious.

“W-what happened?! I-is she...” Glenn looks to Hershel, his face stained with tears.

“She’s just passed out, her body must be exhausted from all that pain she just had to endure. I’ll patch up her wound and we should all let her rest.” Hershel tells him, nodding at him reassuringly.

Glenn nods, sighing in relief as he looks to his sister who’s laying still on the bed. Daryl stands in the doorway, still, and unsure of what to do. He’s unable to take his eyes off her pale face. He’s relieved that she pulled through but the sounds of her pained screaming haunted his mind. With guilt pulsing through his veins, he escapes into the main area where he had left Merle.

“Hey...” Merle calls out, “‘s she okay?”

Daryl swore he could hear a hint of genuine concern for her in his voice, “she will be, she’s a tough one. She’ll pull through. She has to...”

---

Next Chapter

Woo! That was a doozy of a chapter... so now Daryl and Merle are back at the prison with the others but Gloria is injured... I loved writing the dialogue between each pair of siblings, it was really fun especially with the Dixons, what did you think of it?? Next chapter coming this Friday!

I hope everyone stays safe and healthy, please don’t panic, we will get through this!

And as always, I would really appreciate any comments left for me! I’ll be replying to any comments in a new post because this is a sideblog!

Taglist (please let me know if you’d list to be added/removed!):

#Daryl Dixon #Daryl Dixon Fanfic #Daryl Dixon Fanfiction #Daryl Dixon Imagine #TWD #TWD Fanfic #TWD Fanfiction #TWD Imagine #The Walking Dead #The Walking Dead Fanfic #The Walking Dead Fanfiction #The Walking Dead Imagine #Glenn Sister!OC #Glenn Sister!Original Character #Glenn Rhee #Fated: Season 3 #Fated: S3: Chapter 7

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the-gunslock · 4 years

Text

Hiver 2 - Gunslock

This is the story of how I got this title months ago, and why I stuck with it.

At the dawn of a new day, Hiver and her two Hunter clanmates, Selene and Reyla, were off to seek their allies in the Tower Courtyard, joking the whole way. They are immortal, but they love to make every second count.

“…Hawthorne went ‘Dead Orbit?’ and I was like–”

“Gunslock.”

They heard someone shout. All of them got confused and tried to find the source of the call. Turns out it was two Hunters who were loitering near the railings, looking at Hiver’s fireteam. They approach them. Selene, although confused, decides whatever they have to do for the day is more important than these two.

“Uhm. Can we help you?” She asks in annoyance, hoping to get it over with soon.

“Yeah, this one Warlock here…she made a name for herself around her fellow Strike fireteams. You, as Hunters, oughta be ashamed of it.” One of the Hunters, an Awoken, replies to them, scratching his chin, voice full of venom.

“What does Gunslock even mean.” Hiver questions flatly.

“It means,” the second one steps up, replying beneath his rusty greenish Prodigal Mask, “that you’re doing a better job at being a Gunslinger than actual Gunslingers.”

Hiver’s hand unconsciously floats over her thigh where her cannon is stored. “A… Gunslinger… Warlock?”

“Ya think just because you got a Cayde’s fancy Hand Cannon,” He points towards her replica of the Ace of Spades, “and can shoot some heads, it means you can try to step into our turf?” He asks, his body language smug and accusatory. It almost feels like a challenge.

“I’m better than them?” Hiver turns to her friends, puzzled. “…Am I better than you? I know I was revived a bit earlier, but…” Both shrug. Hiver turns back at the Hunter, eyebrow raised.

They trade looks, impatient. The Awoken one transmats on his white Floating Cowl helmet and makes a proposition. “How about a showdown, smartass? Braytech, Mars, one hour. Bring your best cannon.”

Hiver shrugs at this situation. “Sure, I think. Just gotta do our thing here at the Tower.”

The Hunters transmat away, into their ships. The clanmates go get their bounties and soon they’re also on their ships, on their merry way to Mars.

“An actual ‘standoff’. I thought these only existed in fiction.” Trinity, Hiver’s Ghost, comments, bobbing beside her in the ship’s cockpit.

“Something’s not right. They felt crooked to me.” Reyla states, thinking out loud. “These guys are weird. Hiver, be careful.”

Trinity looks at Hiver in worrying. “Do you girls mind watching my back?” The Warlock indulges, arms behind her seat’s headrest.

“Sure. I’ll keep them on the other side of my scope.” Reyla replies, loading her Long Shadow sniper.

“Selene?”

“I’ll do the best I can.” The other Hunter loads a clip into her Jade Rabbit scout rifle. “Joan,” she whispers to her own Ghost. “Patch through to Ana. Send that footage, tell her that this could be dangerous. Just in case.”

They exist Slipspace and quickly enters Mars’ orbit. The three guardians meet in front of the BrayTech Futurescape, right beside Rasputin’s Escalation Protocol pillar. Ana is looking on from inside her headquarters with her optic enhancements.

Hiver, laid back, left hand on her belt and right one near her thigh, is facing the first Guardian, the one with the Prodigal Mask. His stance was alert, almost predatory, and his gauntlets were crude, with metal crooked and bent in all directions; If she didn’t know any better, she would have thought it was just improvised armor.

However, her miserable Crucible matches made her aware that these bent blades were a piece of Exotic armor – Shards of Galanor. On his leg, a black gun with green lights, one she didn’t immediately recognize.

But she had a hunch. One that gave the duel higher stakes if she was right.

Trinity was out of sight, playing an old, pre-Golden Age song. Intense, instrumental, said to be a theme of a famous movie about duels of old Hunters. Perched in the unused trains to the east, Reyla sat with her sniper at the ready. Peeking from around a corner, Selene was ready to run in at any sign of danger.

The Hunter’s companion was nowhere to be seen. Hiver’s Eye of Another World helmet highlighted an enemy behind her, so she could only assume it was him, and not some stray Hive Acolyte. Escalation Protocol was not active. It seems they went a great length to clear out the showdown area.

The music only got more intense as time went on, and the Hunter spoke.

“You shouldn’t get that close, lady.”

“I’m like ten meters away from you.” Hiver said, her hand begging to draw Ace at any moment.

“No.”

The other Hunter, using his crisp-white Sixth Coyote vest, has managed to quickly close the gap behind the Warlock, putting her in a full Nelson hold.

She can’t move.

He’ll probably break her shoulders or neck. She silently panics for a while, while her clanmates are listening in on the comms, trying to understand just what is going on.

The first Hunter takes some steps towards them and takes his gun, fiddling with it. “Looking for his cannon too, are ya? You do not know what you’re getting into by going after ‘every Hand Cannon that exists.’” He said, nodding at her leg where Ace was holstered. “Think you could convince that foolish rat with his little game at the Tower into turning a blind eye to your ‘collecting’? He prolly did.”

He twirls his bulky gun in his hand before turning it towards the Warlock’s head. It reeks of death.

“But we didn’t. You’re gonna have to get this one eventually. And when you do… you’re sealing the deal of who you really are… Dredgen.”

Trinity sends a sign to Reyla. At the same time she shoots the cannon out of the Hunter’s hand, Hiver unleashes a Thunderstrike out of her hands into her captor, who is staggered and lets her go. She elbows him in the face and notices the Prodigal Hunter leaping into the air, channeling Solar energy to his knives. The white-armored hunter behind her is trying to grab ahold of her again, this time with his knife in hand.

Selene jumps out of cover and manages to shoot his chest with Jade Rabbit and cause him to flinch, giving Hiver the chance to blink forward as the Prodigal Hunter launches his Blade Barrage, mistakenly hitting and killing his ally.

Mirroring Cayde’s performance in the Prison of Elders, Hiver uses her blink momentum to slide under the airborne hunter and shoot him in the chest and throat with Ace, causing him to lose all chance of a smooth landing and crashing near his friend, almost dead.

The Warlock catches her breath and examines the Prodigal’s gun as she walks past. She recognizes its luminescent, arcane smoke. The otherworldly fear that this one gun represented – just now pointed towards her.

Thorn.

It’s back. She didn’t even know.

She holsters Ace and walks up to their bodies. The first Hunter, who wore white armor themed after the Trials of the Nine, laid deceased and his body bled from where the Prodigal Hunter’s knives hit. The other wasn’t dead, but was choking and struggling to breathe.

“Shadow.” She said, her voice full of spite over almost ending all her lives to the hand of two insane, power-hungry vermin.

He coughs. “Yeah… So what?” He tries getting up, but simply doesn’t have the strength. “You think yourself a hero, like… like the Man with the Golden Gun?” He points towards his fallen Thorn. “D’you dare to use the Dark… if it meant you got what you wanted?”

Hiver remained silent. He continues. “You two… are just as foolish. We… we do. It’s… heh– incredible. Addicting. And… there’s…” wheeze “so many more. You think… you can out-shoot us all?”

Having enough of this man, Hiver plants a foot on his chest and puts one of Ace’s bullets through his head. She twirls it and puts it back on her leg. Even though she has that wish to grant herself – she doesn’t dare touch the Shadow’s Thorn. Her connection to the Light feels rotten by even coming near it.

Reyla and Selene are slowly coming to rendezvous, guns still in hand. Ana has contacted the Vanguard and is reporting the situation to them. Trinity pops out of transmat near Hiver’s chest. “You know, they are Guardians too. They can just come back after you if they have Ghosts.”

With that, the squad hears the characteristic summoning of a Golden Gun. They all look back to see the bandits’ Ghosts being destroyed in two fiery explosions, the last one shattering the corrupted cannon on the ground.

Looking around, they spot the source. A meddling Gunslinger, wearing battered, outdated armor. But he stood with pride, and it showed, even though his face was covered by his visor. And, under it, perhaps a layer of satisfaction.

“Warlock. Hunters.” He greeted. His voice was deep, almost guttural. She greeted back with a thankful nod.

“Hello.”

The Hunter eyed the ashen bullet-hole that his Golden Gun left on the ground where Thorn was. He quickly turned to the fireteam, and all he uttered was a slow, very clear “Nice work”.

The Fireteam was ready to leave it at that and go on with their day.

That is until the Gunslinger turned around to leave and, under the swooshing motion of his tattered cloak, the women spotted the glint of a golden hand cannon on his leg.

#destiny 2 #destiny oc #destiny fic #destiny warlock #destiny hunter #hiver the gunslock

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tomhiddlesun · 5 years

Text

Porch Light Pt. 2

Part one

Jim Hopper x reader

Warnings: mention of grief/loss, 18+ smut (though it’s pretty mild. Forgive me, it’s my first fanfic)

Part 2.

Hopper snapped out of his day dream and nodded “mama always told me never to turn down a free drink... explains a lot actually”

You chuckle as you hand him his bottle before slipping your way to the couch. Hopper hesitated in the kitchen until you beckoned him with a pat on the cushion next you.

The walk to the couch felt like a million miles as Jim tried to keep his beer from slipping through his sweaty fingers. While you got up to turn the TV on, he tried to conceal a deep, shaky breath before dropping himself onto the loveseat. It had been years since a woman had taken his breath away like that, without even trying. It scared him, but, in all honest it was the first time in years that he’d felt this good. He didn’t know if it would go any further than friends and didn’t care. He just felt lucky sitting next to you. And as if on cue, a warm feeling spread through his chest as you tucked next to him and settled in.

“There isn’t much on and I should be sleeping, but I don’t mind the company if you don’t” you’d said “I’m always a little amped after a night of sleep-streaking”

Hopper grinned “I don’t mind at all. It’s a great start to a long weekend. Plus now I’ve got a great story to tell the boys at the bar”

“You better keep your mouth shut Chief, or else!” Slapping him playfully on the chest before dragging your hand away a fraction slower than necessary.

“Or else what?” Jim purred, leaning slightly into you before letting out a roar of a laugh. “Don’t worry Y/N, your secret is safe. With me at least. The kid has probably ratted on you to half the boys in the town by now.”

You groaned and fell deeper into the couch “well there goes the neighborhood.”

After settling in, the pair of you launched into a talk that quickly developed from work small talk to a passionate debate between Twizzlers v. Red vines until you settled onto family, friends and exes.

You don’t know how it had gotten there and normally you’d be shitting bricks over possibly having to bring Husband up. It was a mood killer and it usually sent you into a downward spiral. But you couldn’t just gloss over it either. Regardless, It always left you dizzy with dry mouth.

As Hopper wrapped up a story about a crazy ex who used to steal his dirty underwear, he asked about your most recent ex.

“Uh. Last person I was with up until a year or so ago- after 7 years together” you said lightly, trying to gloss over as much as possible without encouraging more questions. You knew it was stupid. You knew you could just change the subject, but, at the same time you couldn’t help but trust Hopper. Something inside you reached out and wanted to touch him- physically and emotionally. You hadn’t been open and vulnerable with someone in over a year and those walls you’d built were crumbling before this man. It left you confused, anxious, guilty and ... relieved. As if you had been baking in the hot sun and a wayward wave had finally washed over you. And if you were open to it, you could dive right back into that deep blue ocean.

Speaking of which, Hopper leaned back, gazing at you intently. He could sense the bullshit, like fear on a rabbit. But he didn’t pounce for fear of spooking you.

“Hmmm that sounds tough” he mused, leaning in slightly.

You could feel the warmth of his body grow closer as blush spread across your cheeks and chest.

“Umm. Ya.” You rubbed the back of your neck unsure how to proceed when he gently placed a hand on your forearm.

“Hey you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to, but I’m here if you do.”

Staring into his warm eyes, the tension released, like a rubber-band snapping.

“It’s been tough.” You sighed. You could feel the floodgates opening. “We we’re married and he died. I watched it all. It hasn’t been easy. Obviously I don’t tend to bring it up to handsome men sitting on my couch” you chuckled, trying to diffuse the weight of grief with a cheap laugh.

But all Jim did was carefully caress your arm as you finally laid out your personal burden. The careful touch pulled another sigh of relief from you “I was a mess. Still am. That’s why I’m here. Trying to .. make sense of it all. Try to find a new normal. He was my best friend- we found each other when we needed each other most. It truly felt like fate.. like a cheesy romcom. It hasn’t been easy coming back from that.” You took a deep breath, suppressing the tears threatening to well onto your cheeks. “That’s all I can share tonight, Jim. But know, it feels like a weight has been lifted... I really appreciate you listening to me babble.”

He shook your arm with a soft chuckle, “it was my pleasure. I’m always happy to listen. I get what it’s like to be a little lost.”

With this you slowly tucked closer to him, closing the gap between you. The heat in Jim’s stomach spread down his thighs as you shifted close enough for him to smell the sweet vanilla shampoo you loved. He tried to inhale your scent as deeply as he could without you becoming suspicious. He felt like a teenager all over again, all thumbs and braces. He wanted to enjoy the moment with you, whatever the context, but you were very distracting. He took a deep sigh, willing the hormones away and putting his arm around you. ‘This is ok. This is safe- just a super chill platonic arm around a friend. Play it cool’ Hopper negotiated with himself. But then, you laid your head on his shoulder and all his resolve was lost and he used his arm to snuggle you a litter closer.

After half an hour of reruns he could feel you start to doze off. You tried to hide it, acting like you were just “resting your eyes” every time you nodded off, but the Chief caught on quick.

“Maybe it’s time to send you to bed Ms. L/N” he hummed, already moving to stand up from the couch.

You mumbled in dissent into his shirt before rolling your head to look him in the eye “I’m awake! See, wide awake!” You tried to stretch your eyes open as far as they could, but Hopper didn’t fall for your ruse.

“Now, none of that young lady, time for bed” and with that he hoisted you swiftly to your feet and began guiding you to your bedroom. He kept his hand on the small of your back as your bed beckoned you to it. You couldn’t wait for it’s sweet embrace but one thing made you hesitate right at the edge. You knew it was a long shot, but you asked anyways:

“So I know you’re a busy guy and prolly have lots to do but I was wondering if you would have breakfast with me in the morning.”

You felt Hopper shake with laughter behind you before rumbling “of course I’ll have breakfast with you Y/N. You silly woman.”

“Oh that’s perfect! Since that’s the case it would honestly make the most sense if, you know, stayed here for the night?” You didn’t dare turn around and see his face as your offer sat heavy in the air. Panicking slightly you blurt “well, I mean, you don’t have to. Like you could stay on the couch if you’re too tired to drive or in bed with me or something or nothing at - “

“Oh slow down there kiddo” he laughed “give me a chance to answer.” He turned you around, his fingertips still gently resting on your hip. “If you’d like some company tonight, I’m happy to stay.”

You stared up at him, a stupid grin spreading across your face before you jumped to attention. “Perfect! Now, just got to find something for you to sleep in. Are you a fan sleeper? Need background music? I’m very excited.” Finding a second wind you bounced around the bedroom looking for blankets and over sized shorts.

Hopper shook his head with a smile and reached out to stop you “No need, I can sleep in my boxers and undershirt if you’re good with that. If so, it time you tucked yourself in.” He gently prodded you toward the bed, before turning down the covers and laying down himself.

After a brief moment of staring down the first delicious man in your bed in what felt like a century, you huffed “well that’s my side of the bed but I guess I’ll make do” before winking playfully at him and crawling into the warmth of the sheets.

Hopper lay on his back with the arm nearest you raised up, leaving room for you to tuck into him if you so wish. And you did. Before you lost your nerve you laid your head slowly onto his chest and let his arm wrap around you. You felt his heart drum in your ear as your hand found it’s way up to the exposed chest hair peeking above his loose collar.

“I hop this is ok, just laying here together” you ponder, offering him an out if he needed it.

“There’s no place I’d rather be kid.” He hummed, sending tingles through your jaw and down your body, straight to your inner thighs.

You murmured back to him, settling deeper into his arm nook, “happy to hear that Chief.” However, despite the sweet sincerity of the moment, you had to squeeze your thighs together to quiet the growing fire between them. You didn’t want to make this about sex, but your body was a traitorous bastard who saw what she liked and its name was Chief Jim Fucking Hopper. Emphasis on the fucking. You took a deep breath, trying to bury the urges far into your diaphragm- Tucked away for later, after the Chief has vacated your bed. But all your shifting and stirring caught his attention.

“You ok over there?” His voice thick and low with on-coming slumber.

And that was it. Your will power failed.

“I don’t think I can sleep like this” You grumbled, sitting up. “I’m just not used to sleeping in pajamas like this.” And with that you pulled yourself out of bed and into the bathroom.

Jim proped himself onto his elbow, a concerned look creeping onto his face “You ok, you need me to go?”

“Absolutely not” you called, stepping out of the bathroom completely nude. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I sleep naked.” You nonchalantly glided back into the bed, pressing yourself back against the Chief’s side. You purred contently “oh... oh this is much better. Wouldn’t you agree?” as you teased your fingers across his broad chest.

‘Two can play at that game’ Jim thought with a dark chuckle. “I’m glad you finally said something, I have the same problem” and before you knew it you were straddled against a naked Jim Hopper, your only regret that he’d moved too fast and the room was too dark for you to catch a glimpse of The Goods.

The warmth between your thighs spread through your body, but you were at a stand still. It almost felt ridiculous NOT to be banging each other’s brains out right now. But the dark bits of your heart gnawed at this brief chance of happiness, casting doubt across everything.

But those fears seemed to scurry away as Hopper ran his warm calloused hands tenderly down your arm before wandering to your back. He slowly caressed his way up to the back of your neck, pulling a small languished moan from your parted lips, into the air. He stilled for a moment before resuming his work up and down your back.

His touch felt like a cool breeze washing over you at the end of a heat wave. You pushed your back against his hand, eager for more. After so much pain and anguish- all that time in your personal desert - his touch refreshed your skin and your soul. Your skin prickled, trying to drink in every movement as you mirrored his pattern onto his chest. You could feel Hoppers legs flex against your own as you eventually trickled your finger tips down his torso and under the edge of the blanket. You ran them down to his hip, eliciting your own breathy gasp from the Chief. You gave him a second to catch his breath before dancing your fingers up and down his thick upper thigh. You ignored his squirming as you hummed quietly into his chest. You knew it was working as his grip against your back grew more desperate- grasping tighter with every inch you moved inward on his thigh.

Finally, you decided he had enough and grazed across his semi-hard member, as a way of asking permission to continue. Once Hopper grunted in agreement you lightly palmed the top of his growing bulge before grasping the tip. You stroked him a few times, running your fist over his leaking tip, before bringing your hand up to rest on Hoppers scruffy cheek.

Pulling yourself up with one arm, you turned Hopper’s face towards yours with the other. And with one final final breath, you dove right in. His mouth was greedy for yours- as if he had been just as desperate for relief as you. He rolled towards you, grabbing the nape of your neck to deepen the kiss, his hips pressed against yours. You could feel his heat twitch as it softly grazed between your thighs.

You kissed harder, pulling him on top of you, making room for him between your legs. He groaned into your mouth and his rock hard dick pressed against your wet slit, teasing you both. A glutton for punishment, you rocked your hips against his, bringing just enough friction to make him moan against you.

“I don’t think I can take much more teasing darling” he growled into your neck.

“Well then what are you waiting for Chief” you challenged, pulling him into a passionate kiss, along with another thrust of your hips for good measure.

Without a word Hopper reluctantly pulled away to grab his cock and guide it towards your entrance. You watched as he braced himself above you, slowly pushing into you with a muted moan.

You, on the other hand, weren’t so quiet, gasping at the forgotten sensation of being filled. Red lines raked their way down Jim’s back as you reacquainted yourself with the feeling. Thankfully he was kind enough to give you a moment, but it wasn’t long before he began long strokes in and out of you. He relaxed on top of you, caressing your breasts and hips and thighs, thirsty for every inch of you he could find. You relished as the fullness grew deeper and stronger as he picked up the pace. His hips crashed against yours as his movements became more frequent. You rocked in momentum with him, tightening the coil at the pit of your pelvis with each stroke. Your moans grew louder as he pressed into you, pulling you into a impassioned embrace. He whispered into your ear “I’m so lucky I picked you up tonight”

“You’re not the only one” you gasped in agreement pulling him into a kiss. As his tongue slipped out of your mouth and down your neck, you nearly screamed with ecstasy as you teetered on the edge of release. Hopper laughed briefly against ur neck before biting down. At first his mouth was gentle against the sensitive spot where your shoulder met your neck. But as his hips pounded faster, his nibbles became stronger and more animalistic. The pressure point sent signals down to your dripping cunt, driving you mad. Until finally, your body snapped, legs locked leaving you to scream into Hoppers shoulder while you blacked out briefly from the pleasure.

“Jesus fuck Hopper” you managed to gasp as your body twitched against his. And he wasn’t far behind- one more kiss behind his ear and he unraveled on top of you, cumming into your still pulsing pussy. As his hips slowed, he fell down on top you, struggling for air as he came back to the surface.

“Jesus fuck is right” he mumbled, rolling off of you, pausing to kiss you softly along the way. You both sighed with contentment letting the coolness of the room wash over your sweaty forms.

After several moments to enjoy the fading orgasms you both cleaned up and resumed cuddling, with you happily laying against Hoppers chest and him rubbing your back.

As you both drifted off to sleep you murmured “aren’t you glad you fixed the porch light errand boy?”

“Any fucking time hot staff. I’ll remodel your kitchen if that means I get to hang around you”

“I love the sound of that Chief” you smiled into his chest. And you did. Despite all the uncertainties. All the pain and grief. You had been searching for pieces of a New Normal and it seemed as if one had found its way right into your bed.

#jim hopper x reader #stranger things #fan fiction #jim hopper

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weaselbeaselpants · 5 years

Text

Headcanons for the Butterfly family you’re free to steal cause I probably won’t do anything with them.

I mean, I’ll prolly still draw some of these but I don’t have time to write fan fiction anymore so go nuts.

Jushtin gave his itty bitty sister Solaria hair and fashion tips. He was the one who first taught her to shave her head. Skywyne was not happy.

Solaria found dresses super confining and stupid pink is stupid GET AWAY FROM ME WITH THAT DRESS MOM!!!!!

When she was young, Solaria made friends with one of the dungeon keepers, who was a monster. He was blamed by a cook of the castle for a crime he didn’t commit and to save face, Skywyne had him publicly executed. Solaria ended up witnessing said execution and didn’t know why her friend was being killed. She internalized it and convinced herself that her friend betrayed her to save her from the horrible reality of what her mom did.

Solaria didn’t have time to care about finding a husband, what with the war she was raging against the monsters and all. Alphonse the Worthy and her had a one-night fling and she tried best to break it off so that he wouldn’t get any ideas about their future.

Solaria wasn’t super attached during her pregnancy - she was more worried about the fact that she had to be taken into hiding and that her troops were left without a leader. Then Eclipsa was born and she ended up thinking she was the most beautiful thing in the whole world and sought to make Mewni monster free and perfect - just for her.

When Eclipsa wasn’t with her mother or trying to see Globgor, her Uncle Jushtin was usually giving her lessons on how to be fab.

Eclipsa got really into monster dating when it seemed as though Globgor had completely changed sides and she thought he didn’t like her anymore. Once they hooked back up, all of Eclipsa’s potential monster suitors mysteriously wanted nothing to do with her...

Septarians found Eclipsa’s attraction to them patronizing. The one or two that dated her did so because they wanted to get close enough to kill her, but luckily Globgor stopped them in time.

Alphonse the Worthy was hurt by Solaria keepin him at bay after their fling on the sea. He was sort of kind of not maybe in love with his queen and devoted to her ala Jorah and Daenerys from GoT.

Alphonse also wanted to be in his daughter’s life and didn’t like Eclipsa calling him by his name. At some point he discovered his daughter’s secret affair and promised to keep her and Globgor a secret - he knew what it was like “to love someone the world tells you you could never be with.”

Jushtin was very old but still around once Festivia was put on the throne. He tried not to hold any resentment towards her, but deep down he knew something wasn’t right.

When she was 7, Festivia wandered away from the magical High Commission and started a flash mob in a lowly town square. There she met a shy little girl with light purple hair. Festivia tried to get the girl to stop mulking and let her bad self out, but said little girl was lead away by her stern robot caretaker and Festi never saw her again.

Festivia defended her ‘deceased mother’ Eclipsa in the face of scrutiny. All the “queen of darkness” and “running off with a monster” stuff was CLEARLY just propaganda. She never read her mom’s chapter but was sure from other notes about her that Eclipsa was a good person who loved her very much.

The Prince of Musty Mountains was a hunchbacked dweep everyone made fun of for looking like a rat. Festivia, however, thought he was sexiest man alive. She thought her eldest daughter, Dirhhennia, was equally the most beautiful baby in the whole world.

Dirhhennia had no regrets about by abdicted from the throne. She and Chad ended up living long, gloomy, mopy, happy lives together away from the public and prodding eyes of her sister.

Crescenta’s songday song was used as the ‘base’ for all the princess’ song day songs after this point.

Crescenta and her mother disagreed a lot behind closed doors. Festivia thought her daughter was an ego-maniac who needed more respect for her family, especially her sister. Crescenta further angered her mother by calling her grandma* Eclipsa evil.

Like most things in her life, Crescenta overcompensated her sexuality. She loved Emily Kelpbottom dearly but was not keen on admitting she was gay or even publicly showing affection. When she knew she had to bare an heir, she randomly picked a suitor out of nowhere to have Rhina. Emily was not happy and she and Crescenta had a bitter falling out, with even Dirrhennia calling Crescenta out on her lack of care for the woman her sister suposedly loved. Emily eventually found love again in one of her delegates. Crescenta never loved another person and was heartbroken for the rest of her life for what she had done.

Festivia the Fun became Festivia the Forlorn in the latter half of her life. Something had happened to her that made her break all ties with the Magical High Commission and brought her to the ultimate dumps. Under Glossaryk’s advice, she ended up agreeing to never tell Crescenta about what she had learned as she knew the truth would destroy her daughter.

The other members of the magical high commission recall Hekapoo never being the same after Festivia cut all ties with her and passed away.

Crescenta was rather against her daughter using a spell to make herself fall in love with John Roachley, whom she didn’t approve of. She told Rhina not to deny her asexuality for the sake of the throne and have a child by magic instead.

Rhina loved to visit Septarsis for it’s pretty gladiolas, unaware of how much she wasn’t wanted there.

John Roachley was a controlling, domineering, violent, condescending beast who did love Rhina in his own deeply toxic way. Rhina was afraid of him and John had no problem with his wife staying afraid, cause that meant he was in control and could keep her ‘happy’.

Rhina tried her best to get her baby Celena to socialize, but the girl always hid behind her momma’s dress when they went out.

Celena the Shy had horns and a second pair of eyes she hid under her hair. She didn’t really consider these one of her secrets though.

Mewberty for Celena was horrifying as every boy she’d ever had a crush on was in serious danger of being smothered by her new-found ‘confidence’, aka hormones. Rhina had to lock her away during her growth spurts.

Celena may or may not have had various children with other men. Like Solaria and Alphonse, she wasn’t married to Estrella’s father - though their fling was a lot more happy than theirs.

Estrella adored her mother’s creativity but was less interested in the important aspects of ruling or magic making.

It was Estrella who began the tradition of making murals for the queens.

Comet was always running through Eclipsa’s secret tunnels and passage ways as a little girl. The MHC was worried she was becoming like her ancestor but Estrella refused to hear it.

Comet dated Lazlo Marmelade as a teen and for a time worshiped the ground he walked on. She later learned that he was having extramarital affairs behind her back which is why they divorced. Lazlo doesn’t know Comet is dead and secretly misses Moon.

In her youth, Comet loved nothing more than getting away and staying away as much as possible. For a time she secretly hoped her sister Etheria would inherit the throne instead of her. After becoming a mother however, Comet matured a great deal and returned to Mewni to take up the responsibility even her mother wasn’t capable of doing - mending the wounds of the monster/mewman wars.

Because of Lazlo’s lady charming, Moon has a couple dozen half brothers and sisters wandering around that she doesn’t know about.

Comet and Moon were inseparable - a true mother/daughter team who did next to everything together, especially when Moon was young. A big part of this was how Lazlo Marmelade never stepped in to his daughter’s life again so Comet felt she had to be both Moon’s mother and father.

Moon hated the idea of songday as a kid, much in the same way Star did. She incorrectly remembers her songday song as something wonderful because her mother was happy with it and it was one of the last events her mother and her did together.

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sprydecreates · 5 years

Text

endgame

requested: nope

warnings: drinking, heartbreak, extreme self doubt, language

pairings: calum hood x reader

type: angst ; actual body writing (my rat brain doesn’t know what to officially call it) ; 1.9k words ; gender neutral

summary: rejecting calum wasn’t planned, or wanted. was it for the best?

a/n: hi! i felt like breaking hearts on this good day. was looking for a header earlier, and seen lyrics from halsey’s ‘sorry’ and thought it’d be a wonderful song to write about in a sense.

also gonna try and actually write, not just a hc list this time. hope it’s good! didn’t necessarily proof read it out of fear of hating it so sorry if there are any misspellings or anything.

let me know how you feel about it!

it’d been a couple of months since you moved to california, and things were going pretty nicely. you got back into college, and were excelling. your job was sable, and rather flexible with your schedule and requests for time off. that was great, considering calum was finally back from visiting his family australia.

you had met calum while moving in, considering your apartment was in the same complex as ashton’s (where he was heading). he and ashton helped you move in, as you and a couple of friends who came along to help were struggling on the sidewalk with your hand-me-down couch.

the next day, calum came knocking at your door to see if you were settled alright. you were in the middle of unpacking dishes, and he asked if he could help you. you agreed, cause, why not have a cute australian boy help you move in? he just never left after that; even though he told ashton he’d get to his place soon.

the days have went on, and as cliche as it sounds, you both bonded and eventually had designated cups at each others houses (his is a meme mug that you bought that says “happiness is friends fishing together”, yours is a game of thrones cup with a sword as the handle), matching blankets (that were picked up on a late night target run; his says “mrs” and yours says “mr”), and swapped a pillow each, so you’d be comfortable sleeping.

things were going pretty well, to say the least. only thing that scared you, was rejection. did you like calum? yes, a little too much, but you told yourself several times that it wasn’t love. since it’s convenient to find out about him online, you decided to see if you were his type. seems as though you weren’t, from the girls he was rumored to date at least.

considering this, you called your best friend from your hometown, and explained everything going on. their only advice, was that you needed to talk to calum; they couldn’t tell if calum liked you, or was just being friendly. feeling nervous and hesitant, you invited him over for the chat.

like most of the times when you have a crush, you sat and debated on whether or not you were up for heartbreak. you had never really felt heartbreak, because no one had ever returned your interest for a significant amount of time. so, you didn’t know how to proceed. do you risk telling calum, and getting nothing in return and live your life alone? do you tell him and get a healthy relationship that you’ve convinced yourself would never be endgame?

when calum finally arrived at your apartment, you had cried all you could thinking about every way he could reject you, or how it would end. at this point, you were happy you didn’t have to go through anything that could blindside you.

after catching up, calum brought up the idea of the party, “so, me ‘nd ash were thinking about having a get together with all our friends now that we’re back. to like, catch up with everyone. you wanna come?”

“who all will be there,” you questioned, setting your cup of koolaid down.

“the guys, their girls, some friends.”

“very extensive list, thank you calum,” you joked, raising your eyebrows to signal so. it was nice, feeling comfortable after hours of terror sweats.

he let out a breathy laugh, “sorry, i really only know for certain about eight people. maybe more, maybe like one less.” he sat his fishing cup down, and looked up for your reaction.

you shrugged, thinking more about ‘their girls’ and ‘friends’ and which one you were categorized as, “when?”

he noticed your expression change, “uh, i think this friday but i’ll have to make sure.”

you nodded, “okay, i should be free.”

there was a small silence before calum cleared his throat and stood up, “well i should uh, prolly get going. supposed to meet ‘shton in a bit for dinner.”

you stood up and followed him to the door, “alright, have fun?”

calum turned when you ended your sentence with a question, and shadowed the doorway, “you good?”

you nodded again, tempting yourself to blurt out your thoughts but your fear took you over, “yeah, why?”

“you just,” he looked down at the tips of his shoes, moving them in an anxious manner, “seem, different? i don’t know, like you seem like somethings on your mind.”

“oh, nah,” there was, “just a bit tired,” a lie.

calum nodded, and stepped outside, “alright. i’ll let you know when everything will be set up, okay?”

“alright.”

“call you this evening?”

you nodded one last time and watched him disappear down the hall after your confirmation. after shutting and locking your door, you texted your friend and told her you chickened out, but were going to try and speak to him after the party.

wonderful. two more days of restless thinking, unbelievable amounts of notes written in your phone, and hours of staring into space just thinking of what could go wrong. calum calling didn’t help, either. he sounded more sweet, and soft than usual. or did he always sound like that? did he know about you maybe liking him and was trying to find ways of letting you down easily and this was step one?

ugh. the thought of it all made you sick. literally. friday came around, and you really had made yourself sick with worry. you wanted to get it over with, though. combating sickness AND heartbreak at the same time? undefeated combination. that being said, you didn’t bail. instead, you just showed up in sweats and a beat up old shirt.

no one was really dressed up, which was good for confidence measures, but horrible in the sense that you didn’t scream “i have a cold please don’t get infected”.

calum, however, thought you looked cute. like in a fanfic where you have your hair in a messy bun have on an old shirt that’s baggy but somehow shows off your figure sweats built the same way and you’re about to be sold to 5sos to pay off your parents debt. not that he said all that in one sentence, though.

throughout the evening, you noticed calum getting closer and closer to you, practically sitting on your lap after an hour. you didn’t mind all too much, but it was still strange to experience after all you’ve thought about. he seemed a bit, distant, though. he didn’t speak directly to you like he usually did, no hand on your thigh to push himself up, didn’t laugh at the same joke luke told whenever he popped a cap off of a bottle. something just didn’t, feel good.

after feeling a little dry and all too conscious, you decided to go into the kitchen and take a few shots; seeing as ashton and calum had migrated in there a couple of minutes ago. but, right when you get to the archway, you faintly hear the end of ashton’s sentence, “gonna do?”

calum’s voice came in after his, “i guess i’m just gonna have to tell y/n.”

that’s it. he knows. your heart rate shot up in mere seconds, and the tears made your eyes swell. you quickly turned and headed towards the bathroom, locking yourself in to cry a little bit. you couldn’t believe for a split second that you REALLY thought you were gonna have something. how could you be so gullible? the signs were all there. he was suiting you up to drop you from cloud nine. all the late night calls talking about life made him sick of you and he decided you weren’t the one for him. after that he noticed how much you liked him via the matching things, and it made him sick of you. he was sick of you. Sick. Of. You, and everything that you are to him.

you decided this wasn’t a reunion get together, this was a ‘goodbye y/n’ party. that’s why everyone was exceptionally inviting to you, because they knew you weren’t going to be around much longer, and they wouldn’t have to put up with you after this. if that’s the case, why not go out in style: drunk and pitiful.

you came out of the bathroom after several minutes of breathing in through your nose to stop the tears, and regain your composure. you head straight to the kitchen, nod to calum, ashton, and now sierra before pouring and downing a shot without saying a word. ashton laughs and cheers you on, as he’s never seen you do this before and thought it was a wave of encouragement. calum knows somethings wrong, but he doesn’t want to out you in front of people you aren’t entirely close with.

unfortunately for him, he doesn’t get any alone time with you until you’re five shots and two mike’s hard lemonades in. in other words, you were comprehensive, but your filter was gone and your emotions were bold. calum puts his hand on your shoulder once everyone is out of the kitchen, and asks whats wrong, “i know somethings off with you, y/n. you’ve never drank like this before.”

“not. a. thaaang,” you gave finger guns to him and ‘blew out’ the tips of your fingers.

he halfway smiled, but quickly furrowed his eyebrows and gave a stern look, “i’m serious.”

you shrugged, “me too. you think i, me, am joking?” you pushed his hand off your shoulder and turned to get another shot, but calum stopped you.

“y/n,” he said with his hand on yours, preventing you from lifting the shot glass, “we don’t have to talk about it, but are you sure you’re alright?”

you stopped. his hand was on yours, and that’s how it needed to be. you were staring at your hands, and everything was clear for a minute. you sobered up enough to say, “i heard you.”

he lowered his head, both confused and hard of hearing, “what?”

tears started to form again, “i heard you and ‘shton.”

calum let out a solemn breath and removed his hand from yours, certain this was taking a turn for the worst, “when?”

your breathing had hitched as you tried to stop yourself from crying, “a few minutes ago.” before calum could speak, you began your subtle rant, “i get it. i know i’ve been clingy, and weird, and overbearing and ugly and everything else. i know you don’t like me calum. i’ve fucking known that from day one, and i’m sorry i’ve known it.”

you continued with nonsense babbling until you realized how long you had been talking. calmly, and with tear stained cheeks, you told him goodbye, and that you wished you could be friends.

as you left the apartment and party, calum was left stood in the spot that he would later refuse to go near. he had tears of his own streaming down his face. he recalled his and ashton’s conversation from earlier:

ashton: dude, you’re getting reaaally cozy with y/n.

calum: yeah, i know.

ashton: is there, something... there?

calum: i don’t really, like know? i like y/n so fucking much. borderline love, i guess.

ashton: jesus man. what are you gonna do?

calum: i guess i’m just gonna have to tell y/n.

all this time, calum was the exact opposite of what you kept imagining. he built up the courage to talk to you about his feelings that night. because after all, he thought you were his soulmate: beautiful, smart, humble, different and the same in a puzzle piece manner. he was sure you were his endgame.

so, now what?

#calum hood #calum hood x you #calum hood x reader #calum hood imagine #calum hood one shot #calum hood fic #calum hood blurb #calum hood angst #sprydecreates ch

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comeondowntosouthparkrpg-blog · 5 years

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Lola Thomas

Will she friend us on Facebook yet? Lola has been accepted! Send in your blog and faceclaim!

out of character info

Name/Alias: lexi (yeah im gonna try this again because looks like the negativity is GONE. BLESS.)

Pronouns: she/her

Age: 18

Join Our Discord: Yeaaaah

Timezone: central

Activity: 7 ( i do work so activity will prolly bump before 2pm and after 8pm lmao )

Triggers: nada

Password: jimmy can fast pass my ass ;))

Character that you’re applying for: Lola Thomas

Favourite ships for your character: going in this with a clean slate so try and give me a favorite ship? ’,:)

in character info

Full name: Lola Diane Thomas

Birthday: May 20th.

Sexuality, gender, pronouns: pansexual, female, she/her

Age and grade: 16 (almost 17) && senior.

Faceclaim: Taylor Hill

Appearance:

Head: Lola is what you call a tall glass of water. She’s refreshingly attractive. Her eyes are neither blue or green but a weird combination of the two colors, making them pop against her naturally darkened complexion. Her hair is soft and wavy and like to tangle near the ends by the time Lola is out of school and on the way to work. It’s color likes to change with the rare sunlight, meaning if she is outside in the sun all day every day natural highlights will appear in her honey chestnut tresses. Her nose is like a little button that deserves to be booped constantly. Her lips are full and plump- to that she owes genetics. Lola believes it is her only good trait.

Body: A natural looker. She stands at about 5'8, so be prepared if you’re tiny. She will tower you with her legs for DAYS. She doesn’t have particularly large assets but they are there. And it’s a nice handful on either side of the equator. You just gotta look for them behind her non-stop barrage of sweaters. She likes to say she has a white girl booty- its cute && snooty. Her shoulders and cheeks are very, very, lightly dusted in freckles you can only see in the winter. Despiter her tall figure, Lola is NOT a bean pole, she’s slim thicccc weighing about 145 pounds and it’s not in her face.

Style: Lola dresses like she lives in Goodwill, trendy and thrifty. She would kill for knee socks and button up blouses. She aims to look like ‘The classic look of a teenager in the 90’s’. Her shoes will never don a heel for she believes she is 'too tall’ for them. She likes to keep a mellow color scheme for all her clothing items. Tan, green, white. Sometimes she looks like the first instagram post you see tagged * v i n t a g e. *

Personality:

First off let’s get this straight, with Lola it’s not a personality but more of how she adopts a personality to fit each social clique she is suckered into that day. If you dig deeep deeeeeep down pass the meme references and pop culture shout outs- she’s awfully shy and hates making the first move in ANY kind of situation. She is sympathetic to most of the problems she hears- other than relationship ones. What’s a feeling for someone else other than your cat? She doesn’t get it. Skittish doesn’t even cover how much of a fraidy cat she is.. One little boo when she’s not expecting it is enough to get Lola to shriek and jump three feet into the air. She does have a nuturing instinct, finding it rather difficult to see anyone lonely or upset.

Once you get to know Lola, she is a sweetheart with a soul of gold. She would freeze in the frigid temperatures to keep her friend warm. She’s the girl who will sneak you into her house so you dont have to go home if you’re scared too or can’t. She is quite snarky however- as if a dam broke and every witty thought ever spun in her head rushes out. Once you get her talking about something she is personally interested in, good luck shutting her up. Lola is also a very superstitious person. Never one too step on a crack or split a pole. Her biggest quirk would have to be her need for reassurance that her jokes are funny. She thinks of herself as a comedian but is already sure everyone thinks she is trying too hard. She is a rather dull girl on the outside, moody and solemn. But if you can crack into her cold shell there’s an ooey gooey sweetness inside. Lola is often easily upset- movies to road kill make her tear up. Anytime she even gets mad the salry reminders if her lameness well up in her eyes. And that only pisses her off more.

Despite having a cool exterior she can and will snap- just push the right buttons.

History:

Lola wouldnt deem herself an outcast yet she would always feel that way. Whether she was cheering with the girls or writing lists with Jenny, her feelings were uncontrollable. Her anxiety makes it impossible to determine if someone is being nice to her or if they have a plot to harm her. In middle school, Lola secretly dreamt of becoming a goth kid- going as far as painting her nails black for two years. But her fears never made her set out to do it. Plus everyone was a little then so isn’t that technically confirming? Her school work was the only thing Lola was ever certain in. Work was easy, you couldn’t fuck it up by being a complete oddball. It was practically memorization. After starting high school, Lola was practically a wallflower. Hell she was the wall and the flower all wrapped in one. She dropped every friendship and dedicated herself to her studies and her pets. After she got a job she was allowed to have them finally and her fur babies were the only things she cared about truly and deeply. For they could never hate their mother.

Things were always tough for Lola, socially or economically, but that didn’t mean her childhood sucked. It just meant instead of a Barbie dreamhouse for Christmas she got the summer edition Barbie. Not a house. Just the doll. Jealousy is an emotion often clouding her anxieties and judgement on people. It caused her to lose her best friend since.. Well, as long as she could remember. Lola grew jealous and almost possessive over Jenny. She probably didn’t mean too but when she saw Jenny getting along with people when she couldnt caused a burning rage to settle in her chest. It got so bad Lola didnt even speak to anyone for a week before blowing up and ruining her only real friendship.

Just because she looks innocent doesn’t mean the brunette is. There are probably a few flat tires and keyed cars residing in South Park that are Lola’s own doing. Not to mention she is a total bystander. You wanna skip school? Cool, yeah I’ll watch for a teacher. You wanna smoke pot in the bathroom? It’s all good as long as she gets a hit. These are all childish 'bad behaviors’ but as Lola sees it, there’s no point in trying that hard to be bad. After all the one time she tried it, the poor thing almost died from hypothermia after blindly listening to a slumber party dare.

You aren’t supposed to sneak out in slumber parties. Or streak in Wal-Mart. Or jump of a bridge into negative temp waters. But these are all things Lola did too prove she was cool. And it ended up with her grounded, being hospitalised for pneumonia, and gaining a large fear of heights. And a hatred for party games.

Sample paragraph:

Of course, it was another cold blustery day. Chestnut tresses fluttered in front of her sight along the whole way home, it didn’t matter how many times she forcefully blew the bangs out of her face- they always flopped back down. Numbing fingers clutched tighter to the soft cloth lining of her jacket pockets. The index fingers and thumbs of both hands pinching at the materiel. Gosh- why is it always freezing? Dull orbs flittered around the blank scenery of the all too familiar path from her house to the school. The only sounds Lola could hear were the crunching of her flats against the snow and the wind whipping furiously around her. Boring. It was all white and boring. Lola was tired of being bored. She imagined that would be the only feeling she could muster for the rest of her life and it made the corners of her glossed lips tug down.

She shook her head as if to clear the thoughts instantly, humming a tune to distract herself as she continued on her trek.

One step, two step, three step…

…Sixteenth step-

Lola really needed a friend. A small sigh lifted her chest and as it billowed past her mouth she noticed movement in her peripherals. Was she really looking down this whole time like an idiot? How embarrassing! She clenched her hands into fists, further rumpling the jacket from its own pockets. Avoiding any kind of eye contact she swayed over to the side near the street and hurried her steps along. Too fast to count now. She passed the figure and her hands slowly unfurled. The blood rushing to her digits made them quite warm and her face flushed as well. God she was awkard.

Just as she thought she was in the clear, Lola felt a tap on her shoulder and her heart stuttered in its cavity as she stumbled to a stop. Fuck.

Headcanons:

🌟 owns a bike but rarely rides it.

🌟 has one cat- a black kitten named sparrow.

🌟 also two rats- yin and yang which are little chocolate colored sisters.

🌟 3.8 GPA

🌟 wants to learn french

🌟 owns a polaroid camera kinda girl

🌟 gardens in her free time

Anything else:

Im really insecure so if it takes me time to reply its cuz im demeaning myself and my baby and my words.

#accepted #submission

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interview-withthevampire · 7 years

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so like i’m getting a second hand laptop sometime this week, which means I can potentially now write in bed, which is such a fantastic prospect because I’ve been Proper Buggered from increased dislocations and a torn back ligament for the past six weeks and legit have been home-bound and almost bed-ridden. Sitting up at my PC is a special kind of torture because subluxing, arthritic knees and cold weather don’t mix.

bbuutttttt that means I can work on a two VC OC fics that i’m not 100% sure on, but if you’ll have the time to read an excerpt of one which has a working title of “Hobo Fangs” and give me an opinion that’d be great. All CWs are in the tags.

Some plot background: features a thirteen year old “Bridge” (nick-name for Bridget). Though she gets older as the story progresses and then stops (HA). If any of y’all remember I made a post about how I wanted to write a VC piece where an exploited child was treated like an actual exploited child, without being grossly eroticised(?). This is it -- and the main vamp featured is Khayman -- the vampire who would walk from mortals who talked to him. It’s set in London, 2016(ish) but isn’t PL or PLatRoA compliant. It’s a mish-mash because Anne is... well, Anne.

Hobo Fangs (working title, but I find it funny so I might keep it) is built somewhat around what I went through when I was younger, though it’s not -- but the emotions and some experiences are the same. It’s not going to be trauma porn, but things would be discussed.

I’ve tried as hard as I can to make it seem like a thirteen year old, which means simpler stylistic choices and shorter paragraphs. It’s first-person past-tense but I’m on the fence about doing it VC Recounting style or not, though it would fit the ~theme~. I am also considering doing it in third-person, as I can write both but I dunno. I really appreciate concrit, if you have any to give :)

Excerpt from the Prologue/First Chapter:

Down the short hallway, Dad’s bedroom door was closed. The bathroom light was on, shining a perfect rectangle on the wall. Normally, a greyish white light glowed between the gap of door and floor when he was in, radiating from the stupid laptop he was always on when not chain-smoking at the kitchen table. Nothing shone from beneath his door.

The little radio was still playing away. Dad had hocked the television yonks ago but the pantry remained bare. My stomach growled just thinking about it. With curled fingers, I rapped gently on the door with my knuckles.

“Dad?” I called quietly. No answer came. I rapped louder and called again, “Dad?”

Nothing. Only the dulcet tones of a white-twenty-something male wailing to teenage fans through tinny speakers.

When I hesitantly opened the door, it was to a dark room. I could smell… something nasty — 'cept Dad’s room always smelled nasty — but I couldn’t hear anything except the radio. Not even drunken snoring.

“Daaad?” I called again into the dark. “You awake?”

Silence. I flicked on the light.

Dad was slumped against the headboard of his bed, head against his shoulder like his neck was broken. A line of frothy spit was hanging off his open mouth, his lips blue… and with a terrifying sort of numbness, I knew he was dead.

Of course I did. I’d seen it before. Jesus fucking christ, I’d seen it before.

I rushed toward the bed, wanting to punch and kick and scream at him until he woke up and started moving and beat the shit out of me for hitting him — but when I touched the flesh of one of his arms I jerked back. It was stiff, and cold, and where he was slumped and curled ‘round his right arm, a needle was still stabbed there, oozy black congealed blood where the syringe had come loose.

“Dad?” I asked. My voice cracked and whined. “DAD?”

I tried to shake his shoulders but none of him moved, his body all seized like a statue. The room reeked of piss and shit and blood. Suddenly, I couldn’t touch him anymore, and backed away from the bed until my back hit the wall, and slid down, down, down, until my butt hit the worn carpet.

Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.

What was I going to do? What the fuck was I going to do? Call 999? But what could they do for a dead person? Dad had only had me on probationary terms because the last social worker had thought he was shit, and turned up randomly to check on me. If they turned up… if they turned up… if I called anyone… I would be in a home. A home with a capital ‘H’ and I never wanted to be in one of those ever again.

The floor was hard against my bum. It was only carpeted concrete, but it felt as fragile as glass, as if, at any moment, it would crack beneath my weight and send me into tumbling darkness. My breath picked up ‘til it felt like I was both breathing in and out at once, my head swimming and chest spasming until I felt ready to pass out. This couldn’t… Dad said he wouldn’t leave me after mum… but there he was, dead as anything, on his dirty bare mattress… couldn’t stay sober for more than two days before getting the shakes…

A thousand weird confused and panic thoughts gushed through my head in seconds, boiling my brain alive trying to decipher them all. Social workers; police; ambulance people; rats scuttling in the ceiling why won’t they go away; staying here. Danger. The ambulance people would call people and I’d get taken away, and it'd be useless: Dad’s chest wasn’t moving and his feet weren’t moving, and his fingers were white and his lips were black and his eyes were open comically wide like the overdose had cut off his eyelids. I couldn’t call the police either, though what help they would do if they didn’t work part time as a funeral home was beyond me, and Dad didn’t have any fucking funeral insurance to begin with.

Maybe if I went to make some Ovaltine, everything would make sense, right? Ovaltine was nice. Ovaltine was good. I would feel better after a cup, wouldn’t I? Slowly, like a robot, I got up from the floor and stumbled into the hallway, running a hand against the wall on the stumble down to the kitchen.

There was still water in the kettle. It gurgled and made little popping noises when I turned it on at the socket; Dad’d been meaning to get another one for ages but… well. Dad was useless wasn’t he? I got a clean mug from the cupboard and spooned double the instructed amounts of Ovaltine into it. He pissed away his social on lager and brown and bennie’s and cigarettes and horses like we didn’t have bills on the coffee table and tax collectors leaving aggressive messages on his message bank. He stayed up all night with the radio on loud, typing crackpot shit on internet forums, or inviting strangers into the house and not keeping an eye on them so they got into the hallway and through my door…

I watched the boiling water dissolve the chocolate powder in my mug with a grim sort of emptiness. Hot steam rose like a volcanic eruption in the chilly air like the breaths from a Chinese dragon. It still thoroughly steamed when I added a dollop of milk that still smelt okay even though it had gone out of date days ago.

It was sweet and hot and hollow all at once, as if I were only somehow experiencing one-half of something whole. Even whilst sipping it, the edge of the kitchen counter digging into my back as I leant on it, none of its warmth seemed to touch me. Was this what shock felt like? It felt like… it felt like nothing. Dad was… Dad was dead.

… and only I knew he was dead.

Cue weeping, this is shit isn’t it whY have I posted this i’m prolly gonna delete tomorrow morning if it gets no notes

#CW; drugs overdoses death bad parental relationships #cw actual vampires but later one blood discussion of child exploitation but in a WTF THIS IS WRONG #post #vc #shit-fic OP edition #i feel like i'm bearing some of my soul here because gosh darn it everything gets thrown into question #am i okay at writing #what is this #anyway #my writing

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cutemoniic · 7 years

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i used to rlly like my history of art teach bc when last year i was homesick for two weeks almost she phoned my family and asked my mom how i was and expressed concern about me not attending school and i felt good! wow someone cares about me wow!!!! wow... only to later find out that she doesnt give a shit about students. she phones everyone that misses school for more than three days to tattle on their families. she genuinely thought that i had skipped school for two weeks and wanted to rat me out to my parents. which knew that i was home, sick as a dog.

aannnnnnd since then she became pretty manipulative and bossy overall??? she would trick us by saying that she wasnt going to do oral tests this particular day, make everyone come and not study and THEN do the oral test anyway and give and scold us if we told her that she told us that she wasn't going to and then oral test those people and put bad or low grades on them no matter what. she would make SIX PAGES LONG tests with topics we barely did and she would claim that she gave us papers about that and told us that one of us prolly lost them. if someone would be missing during a test she would first phone them and start SCREAMING like a banshee about ''''''their future scholastic careers'''''''' and humiliating them in front of the whole class because wow youve been called by the teacher???? lol m8. she would also phone their families. she uncovered two of our classmates that were ditching school and got them punished both. she also tried to phone another one of our classmates that was in the hospital with acid in their blood but the mother answered and she got herself chewed up in front of the whole classroom.

and today she reached my limit??? i had to do a test with another girl of my class. the 90% of our class is having fun in berlin for their last years trip, while me and three other classmates stayed behind. she told us to not miss school today bc we were gonna do her test, okay?? i get to school this morning, nobody is here, so the old janitors (theyre such sweethearts gdi) told me to just go home and that they would have told her that and no problem. i get home, i get back to bed to play pokemon in peace. its around 9:30am. my other classmates messages me saying that shes at school and if i was going to come for the test. i tell her that i came earlier and nobody was there, she tells me okay and stops messaging. 10:01am. she messages me again telling me that she met our teach while sneaking out of the school (there wasnt anyone either) and she held her back PHYSICALLY by HER FUCKING ARM and asked her where she was going. my classmate told her that she was gonna go home because there was just her and????? she says 'if you do that i will call your family. you will stay here' and she brought her to ANOTHER CLASSROOM SHE WAS TEACHING IN and she was FORCED to stay here. what the fuck. 10:30am, my classmate messages me and tells me that the teacher is going to call me and to be careful. i go like ?????? and a minute later my phone rings. i pick up because i was confused and curious and she starts SCREAMING LIKE A FUCKIGN BANSHEE TO GET MY ASS IN SCHOOL OR ELSE SHE WAS GOING TO PHONE MY HOUSE AND MAKE ME REPEAT THE YEAR. ofc i get into a panic attack, pick myself the fuck up and go to school because what????? the fuck can you do???????? 11:00am: i get to the classroom to this piece of absolute shit screaming that i HAD to do her test now, slams the door of the classroom shut loudly and starts making sounds with the desks by dragging them around. still screaming. and everyone who knows me also knows that loud, sudden noise makes me heavily panic. by this point i was literally TERRIFIED and shaking and when i got the test i had like. 20 minutes to scramble myself together before i had another panic attack. she pretended to ignore me until i started crying and at that point she went ''?????? anderson whats wrong?????'' LIKE SHE DIDN'T KNEW. she attempted to help me by trying to touch me, which honestly made me panic MORE. my other classmates was telling her not to touch me, that i was having a panic attack and to just NOT TOUCH ME. she kept trying to get to pat my head and reassured her that she dealt with little kids all the time and kept apologizing. after this i literally swunged my backpack on and RAN out of the class, stayed with the janitor lady and she even got mad at the teacher for wanting me to get back inside and finish the test. i got sent home and my mom got PISSED at this situation, and on monday shell have a talk with the principal. she has attempted to call me ALL DAY until i had to mute my phone (so if people message me on kik/etc ill be slower to respond unless im directly looking at my phone ngi) and she gave up for now. thats why im terrified of school and why i started disliking her subject. fuck her and everything she stands for!!!!!!! just fuck her

#;;ooc #negative ;;#its hella long jsyk its about a teacher and her bullshit

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winniemaythepooh · 7 years

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Poppy

Preface

The year is… Well the year doesn’t much matter, as the case may be. The government fell apart many years ago and anarchy ensued. The organization that took over is best equated to a drug cartel, located on a remote and nameless island, who cares for nothing more than their own purchases. Their vices have spread to encompass the entire nation of what once was the United States, all the citizens falling under the influence of a variety of drugs and formerly illegal substances. There is no economy, no education, nothing but people left to their own devices. After all, what is the need for an economy when all that is on the mind of the people is the next dose of whatever they can find? Poppy, a girl in her late teens, may find that her soul is striving for more than what is around her, although her vices may not allow her to find true closure.

Pops. Pop. Pops, pops, pops, pop, pop, poppy, pop, pop. My name rolled around in my head like loose gum-balls in a broken machine. It didn’t have much of a purpose or nothin’ but it felt right. That’s how most of the things I do seem to happen; it either feels right or it don’t and I make do the best I can. I didn’t focus on that for long, though. Don’t have much capacity to ponder on any particular subject more than a few minutes. Comes with life nowadays, I suppose, but I wasn’t much worried about it; not yet at least. Right now, I was more worried about puttin’ my one foot in front of the other and gettin’ to The Shack. It’s where I live, I suppose, but I don’t much like to call it home as I believe that home is a place of love and comfort. Or I guess that’s what I believe, like I said I don’t much have a capacity for ponderin’. Any who, my main objective was to get back to The Shack where I knew there would be plenty enough supplies for me to get another fix; I was real anxious to slip back into that warm fuzz, that warm loving fuzz. It helped me with the cold and bad I felt seepin’ in when I went too terribly long without some sorta buzz. Honest to God, the only way to survive in this world; there ain’t enough food or nothin’ and anything you do get you prolly grew yourself straight from the ol’ cracked earth. Wasn’t a whole big thing though, I mean most people don’t eat anythin’ but all sortsa drugs anyway.

My thoughts kept on clangin’ this way and that while I wobbled down the ol’ road; musta had at least some of my last dose still running in me, but it didn’t much matter either. Nothing really much mattered for anyone ‘cept the drugs and takin’ the most the soonest. I could hot shot myself and nobody much would say anything, just prolly stare at me with their big ol’ eyes, or their half eyes, thoughts like a star twinkle, lightin’ up and blinkin’ out just as fast. Wasn’t anything much better’n that, lettin’ your mind take its own leash. Like I said, it’s the only way to live.

More, my mind’d try and tell me sometimes. More what? More future? What future? Only thing there’d ever be more of was drugs, and nobody was much bothered by that. I started feelin’ that more in my heart, tryin’ to drag me down to the ground I suppose. Only problem was there’s no way to have more anymore; from any babblin’ I heard in all my however many years, the “gorvenment” or whatever that was didn’t much care for anything ‘cept drugs either. Like I said, I don’t do much thinkin’ ‘cept for when I can’t help it. These type’a thoughts made that cold worse, like I could feel its fingers on me holdin’ me down.

Only a little bit longer ’til that next high. My fingers started shakin’, in need of somethin’ to do I suppose, so I brought ‘em up to my head and started tuggin’ on my hair a little bit. Used to be a heck of a lot easier, ‘til I cut it all off one day in a fit. Shorn it all right off, I did, and bleached it too. Miracle we still have somethin’ like bleach just lyin’ around but I suppose I was one of the few people who got somethin’ out of usin’ it. My tweaked ol’ brain likes weird little things like that I suppose, ‘specially when I’m high. High as a kite, they say, though I ain’t got the foggiest what a kite is. Musta been mega-super-high though for all the whole mass of people to be high as it. More, my mind says, if you had more, maybe you could know what a kite is. What a stupid thought. Who the hell needs ta know what a kite is anyhow? If it don’t matter now, why would it ever matter? This just makes me more agitated so I put my hands down and refocus to get to The Shack. Least I’m not fully high tryin’ to walk back there, would’a had to stop every five feet for my old druggie brain to pick up whatever tickled my fancy. Odd phrase, “tickle my fancy”, don’t much like for anybody to be ticklin’ anything of mine, now I think about it. But I don’t want ta think about anythin’ right about now, not when I got somethin’ to do, so I start my wobblin’ up again.

The Shack is almost real near ‘fore I come up on anybody else in my whole day of walkin’. Don’t remember where I was walkin’ from, but it don’t much matter.

He was lyin’ there covered in his own mess, musta been there for at least a day. Don’t much remember his name exactly, don’t much matter anyhow, but I think it started with a “z”. I ‘pose I’ll just call him that then.

“Z, what in God’s green are ya doin’ out here in yer own mess? Ain’tcha know not ta take that much, bud?” I slurred out. Just cause I don’t know him ain’t mean I can’t look out for him. Got enough people dyin’ without him goin’ too. Then again, maybe I do know him. Ain’t much matter.

He didn’t look up right away, instead he just kinda gurgled down his chin some and twitched a little bit. I sighed, and went over to him. I needed my next fix, but my ol’ druggie heart wouldn’t let me just leave him in his own spit and piss like that.

“Oh Z, you honkin’ rat…” I giggled it out, although there wasn’t nothin’ funny ‘cept my words honkin’ rat. My ol’ brain cracked me up real good like that sometimes. He looked up at me with them big ol’ crusty eyes, snot and whatever else pouring down his face.

“P-p-pop-s-s, g-gone, he’s gon-n-e…” Ol’ Z stuttered out, the poor thing. He was one of the few ‘at got real broken up when someone passed on. I cared but I knew better’n ta let myself get sucked into that spiral. Once yer emotions got to be the main drivin’ of yer drugs, it all went even more downhill.

I decided I couldn’t leave him out there even if he was awake again, I was on my way to The Shack anyhow, so I reached under his nasty ol’ shoulders and gave him a tug. He stumbled up pretty easy; like I said, most don’t eat nothin’ much ‘cept drugs and he was no exception. I dragged him with me all my way to that saggin’ ol’ front porch and then inside. He was in no shape ta wash ‘imself up and I reckon he wouldn’t’a done it anyhow. We stumbled together into the closest room on the first floor with a shower, trippin’ over some more deadweight bodies on the way. I pushed open the door with a shakin’ foot, hopin’ ta high hopes I didn’t bash some other sap’s head in with it. Wouldn’t’a been the first time. Anyhow, I was lucky this time, and I shoved all the spoons and crap off the toilet seat ‘fore I sat Ol’ Z down on it. Dunno why we still had the darn things, not like they worked. Doesn’t much matter I suppose. I cranked the rusty ol’ shower handle ‘til the water creaked on. Whenever I thought about it (which was hardly never), I couldn’t much figure where the water came from, but like everything else it didn’t much matter.

I looked over at him while I let the water get runnin’, and he was just starin’ at nothin’. That ol’ hundred yard stare, like he seen the worst in the world and then some. You see it all the time on most everybody’s faces, but you can’t never tell if they’re just stoned out their noggin’ or what. Don’t much matter. Nobody much messes with anybody else anyhow, no point to it. ’S not like we’re doin’ anything useful in our time ‘cept gettin’ real high.

He broke outta his trance a lil’ bit and glanced up at me. He didn’t say nothin’, but like I said, he ain’t need to. I knew how he felt. We all knew how he felt, we just didn’t much acknowledge it. Couldn’t’a done much about anything that bothered us even if we hadn’t’a been so stoned. Anyhow, he looked up at me but I just turned back and started workin’ the water again. It was an alright temperature I ‘spose, cold enough to wake him up real good. There was no way he could even untie a shoelace without my darn help, so I started pullin’ off his shirt and whatnot. He just kep’ lookin’ at me with those crusty ol’ eyes, not makin’ a peep.

Soon he was naked, and I pulled him over to the tub and helped him step in. He kinda flinched at the water a lil’ bit, but I think he liked the shock of it. His eyes came back into focus for a minute and he even started scrubbin’ himself a lil’ bit. I handed him a bar of soap, another thing I couldn’t figure how we still had, and turned away to let him get to it. I would’a left the room, ‘cept for it just didn’t feel right. He probably would’a bonked his ol’ head and died if I had. Not that big a thing, ‘cept we got so many people dyin’. That’s pretty much all people do nowadays, get high and die a lil’ bit.

Thank heavens he was finally done, I was gettin’ ta too much ponderin’ for my own good. He turned off the water himself, no small feat with those chicken arms’a his, and grabbed one of the threadbare, snot-covered towels off a rack. Didn’t much matter if it had snot, most things did, and he’d likely be covered in it again ‘fore two hours’d passed. He shimmied off and I opened the cupboard under the sink where I always keep some extra clothes. I’m one of the few that’s practical like that, and still recognizes the value of keepin’ yerself clean. ‘Sides, couldn’t let him go straight back to his ol’ nasty rags. I handed him the stack, didn’t much matter what size they were as most everybody fits in everything, and he put ‘em on all clumsy. He looked a right sight better, which strangely helped force back that cold that had still been creepin’ in. He was still lookin’ at me with his crusty ol’ eyes, though they were less crusty now, and I figured he ought’a eat somethin’. Prolly hadn’t touched any sorta food in about four days. I slung off my ol’ backpack, God I love that thing, and unzipped the biggest pocket. The outside was covered in all sortsa rubbish my ol’ druggie brain found and somehow stuck on, but it made me smile. On the inside, I rummaged through some more junk like colored string and whatnot, and found my food stash at the bottom.

The thing about me is that I’m smart enough to know to gather seeds and such and plant ‘em whenever I remember. Then I can gather up whatever grows when I remember that too. I found a good ol’ apple in my bag and I figured he’d like that more than some soggy ol’ sad carrots I had in there, too. I pulled out my knife and started slicin’ the apple for him, he wouldn’t know what to do if I gave it to him whole. I handed him a few pieces and he looked at ‘em in his hand for a minute ‘fore he took a lil’ bite. He chewed slowly, like his teeth’d fall out if he went any faster, though I reckon they prolly would. Didn’t much matter, he didn’t eat often enough to miss his teeth even if they did fall out.

“Th-thank you…” He muttered so quietly I barely even heard ‘im. Now there was a phrase you ain’t hardly hear. Nobody ever does nothin’ for nobody else, ain’t got much ability and definitely ain’t got no desire. I could tell he meant it, and that it was hard for ‘im. Funny thing, people still holdin’ on to their pride even when they were covered in their own mess not an hour ago. I guess us humans’re stubborn like that, ‘specially with our gosh darn pride.

I nodded at ‘im, and he nodded too ‘fore turnin’ ta pick up his ol’ clothes and go. I turned ta go too and stepped quietly out that creaky ol’ door, tryin’ not ta jump scare anybody. I tell ya what, you jump scare a room full of druggies one time, and yer set for life. You’d think they’d be too darn stoned to even notice the noises, but I reckon the drugs put ‘em on edge a lil’ bit too.

Now my mind was really gettin’ ta too much thinkin’, rememberin’ things like that. I tiptoed through the doorway at the far end of the room’nd crept up the stairs. Had ta really watch my step here, people’d fall through the darn things if they weren’t careful, and hardly anyone was. I climbed up one flight, then two, then the third, and finally the fourth, all the way to the top. Ain’t nobody ever come up here, they’d die of a heart attack ‘fore they even got to the fourth flight. This was my space.

The fourth floor was a large creaky wooden space with dingy walls, a real high ceiling, and two gross windows at the back. Just like my good ol’ backpack, I had random stuff stuck up on the walls everywhere, made me happy to look at, ‘specially when I was high. Right in line with the staircase was a mattress, sat straight on the floor with a couple’a blankets I managed to scrounge up. I may not care much about anythin’ but I still did like to get real comfy sometimes. By my bed I had some extra stacks of clothes ‘cause like I said, I like to take care of myself a lil’ bit.

My stuff was right as I left it and just the way I like. I slung off my ol’ backpack and flopped onto my bed all in a huff. Big day calls for a big dose. I pulled out my bottle, belt, and a fresh needle from under my crusty ol’ pillow. That’s another thing I can’t never figure, how we always got enough fresh needles and crap. Only the stupid ones of us were dumb enough to double use their needles, we’d all seen what it’d do to ya if ya got infected.

I huffed again, real tired of my ol’ brain thinkin’ so darn much. I grabbed the belt and got it real tight on my arm, feelin’ that rush in my body ‘fore I got high, like it knew what was comin’. I drew some’a that liquid gold into my needle, god knows what it was, and pushed the needle into my vein. I pushed in that stuff’nd, God, I just started sighin’. My brain had got me real worked up with all its thinkin’ but now my eyes started to fade and I reckon I fell back.

“Y-yy-y-y-yyy-uhh-h,” I started mumbumblin’... “Eheh, heh, uh…” And jus’ like that, I was standin’ over myself, watchin’ my body tryin’ to move and gigglin’ up a storm.

S-so goooood, I thought, everything’s just a-ok, yes ma’am, sure enough is. My body took a big ol’ breath, and suddenly I was lookin’ through my real eyes again. That warm fuzz started creepin’ back over me, and I was gone.

I don’t know how long it was ‘fore I woke up again; coulda been hours, coulda been days. No way really to tell, and it didn’t much matter anyhow. I just laid there on my bed, lookin’ around the room at everythin’. Things seemed a lil’ wavy, a lil’ wobbly, but this way of lookin’ was just as familiar to me as the way it was s’posed to be. I still felt a lil’a that warm in me, that warm I love so much. Not enough, though.

This time I reached under my pillow for the bag’a pills. I chose one or two of ‘em’n grabbed an ol’ glass cup and started crushin’ the pills up on the floor. Usin’ my knife, I scraped the crushed bits into messy lil’ rows, but it didn’t much matter how neat they were, it was jus’ gonna be in my nose soon enough. I layed on my belly on the mattress so I could lean over better’n just crouchin’. I plugged one side’a my nose and started snortin’ in heavy with the other, snortin’ in two long lines’a god knows what.

I sat back up again, and shook my head real good. Whew, here comes that rush…

Come it did. ‘S hard to notice at first, after ya done it so many times, but then it really kicks in. I felt on top’a the whole darn world. My colors started shiftin’ in’n out of each other, kinda movin’ around the room too.

Trees, I thought. Yes ma’am, those trees outside were gorgeous. Purple tree limbs like snake arms started movin’ through the window just ta prove me right.

What in God’s green are they doin’, don’t they know they have ta knock ‘fore they can come in? I giggled a lil’ bit ‘fore turnin’ ta go outside. What for, I ain’t got no clue but it don’t much matter. I stumbled down those rickety steps, somehow managin’ ta miss every hole.

“What’chu took so long fer, comin’ down those steps so slow… Yuh been there ‘least an hour…” Some random druggie was slurrin’ at me, but I ain’t know what he meant, I went down those stairs in about two seconds. Don’t much matter, I just kep’on goin’ to the door, happy to get outside.

I fumbled with the knob, my hand not wantin’ to work right. I got it open soon enough, though the blue from the door handle was now on my hand. Heh. I trotted right on out into the stars, not really lookin’ or carin’ where I was goin’.

All of a sudden, I was on the ground. I looked by my legs and saw one’a them purple snakes wrigglin’ on the ground, smilin’ up at me like it was proud’a itself for trippin’ me. My ankle was turnin’ a wrong way, and my eyes surprised me by tearin’ up. I ain’t never cried I don’t think, and my ankle didn’t even ‘ticularly hurt or nothin’. All of a sudden I was snifflin’ too, a big ball’a panic and that cold, bad feeling gettin’ bigger inside me. I wanted… Well I reckon I wanted someone ta take care’a me, I don’t know. I looked up through my crusty teary ol’ eyes and saw good ol’ Z sittin’ against a tree right near me. I crawled my way over to him, and started leanin’ too. He had a half filled little bottle and a needle next to ‘im, and I could tell he was out of it. I don’t know what I was thinkin’ but I grabbed the needle and the bottle and I filled up the needle ‘till it felt right.

“Pops, w-what-t’re y-you doing-g, that’s half a bottle,” Z slurred, whippin’ his head towards me. I stuck out my arm and jabbed in the needle. I pushed in that liquid dream, ready ta go to sleep for a while, ready ta leave that cold feelin’ behind.

His words didn’t register ‘till after I was done shudderin’. Half a bottle? Oh well. Even as my eyes started losin’ focus, I wasn’t worried. Half a bottle? Z started losin’ his cool a lil’ bit, though I don’t know what he was so worked up about.My vision finally went black, and I felt that good ol’ warmth even in my soul. Half a bottle? Didn’t much matter. Nothin’ really much mattered.

#original post #originalpost #shortstory #short story #original character #writing #pls dont steal #or copy #dystopia #drugs

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