#i just realized what i wanted to put on this drawing head in hands ive already posted it to insta | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

samandcolbyownme · 6 months

Text

Tangled Around You | Sam Golbach

Summary: Anon request - "ok could you like make it so y/n or whatever is on sams lap, making out with him, while watching tangled, and then things escalate iykwim. ive been like NEEDING THIS."

I wrote this as a Colby one shot first, and I didn't even realize it until AFTER I posted it on here, so click here if you want to read the Colby version of this request.

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, teasing, cute name calling, hair pulling, biting, fingering, unprotected sex, oral (f rec), creampie, fluff with smut

Word Count: 1.5k | Not really edited, it’s like 2am lol

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

"Do we have to watch this movie again?" Sam groans as he sits down on the couch. You smirk slightly and sigh, "I love this movie, Sam." He rests his head back on the back of the couch and looks over at you, "I couldn't tell."

He instantly laughs and you laugh, hitting his shoulder as you sit down on his lap, "Will this make it better?"

His hands slides around to rest in your lap, "This does makes it better."

You reach up to grab the remote, giving him a good view. Sam's eyes move to your ass and his tilts his head as he raises his eyebrows, "Yeah, definitely better."

You look back at him over your shoulder, shaking your head slightly as you smile. You lean back, getting comfortable as the movie starts.

You hum along with the songs, singing them to Sam as he just laughs with you, singing with you, teasing you in all sorts of ways.

Sam has been paying more attention to you than the movie anyway, and almost halfway through, you look over at him, "What are you looking at?"

He reaches up slowly, brushing hair from your face and ticking it behind your ear, "Nothing.” His hand slips under your shirt and he draws small circles into you skin, “I just like looking at you."

The heat in your cheeks rising, creating a rosy blush, "Sam." He makes you nervous, but in a good way. He smiles and stops you from looking away.

He leans in, pulling you to him so he can connect his lips to yours. You give in, laying a hand on his cheek as your lips move smoothly with his.

He pulls you into him, wanting to take things more, but you lay a hand on his chest, pushing yourself away, "Sam."

"Mm." He whines slightly, "Come on."

"After the movie." You say, knowing damn well it wouldn't be after, but you put up the fight. You move around slightly trying to avoid Sam's gaze on you.

"Can I have another kiss, at least?" You look at him finally, smirking as you see him pout, “Please.”

You sigh with a smile, leaning in to peck his lips. You quickly turn your head back to the tv, but as soon as your eyes lay on the tv, your head is turned and you're now looking into sam's eyes again,

"Y/n."

"Yes baby?" You smirk slightly and he tilts his head, "Is the movie over yet?"

"It can be.." you run your hand through his hair, "What's in it for me?"

He smirks and nods, "I can show you."

You think about it for a few moments before standing up, "Okay." You run towards the stairs and Sam follows behind you.

He grabs you by the waist and you both drop down onto the steps. Sam is on his knees, in between your legs and your arms are around his neck.

“We doing this here or?” His eyes move up and down your face, waiting for you to answer

“You ever do it on the stairs?” You bite your lip as he shakes his head, “We can change that.” He pulls you in, kissing you as he hands work as pushing your sweats down.

He stands up to pull them off and quickly reassumes the position he was in before. His hands slide up the outside of your thighs as you kiss down his neck.

His hand slides into the small open space between your thighs and quickly pulls your panties the side, “I knew you couldn’t wait until the end of the movie.”

He chuckles lowly as he feels how wet you are for him. It’s like that all the time, but he always acts surprised, “Fuck, babe.”

You whimper out as his fingers slowly slip into you. He tilts his head back, watching as your eyes roll back, “That feel good or something?”

You open your eyes, wanting to fight back but you wanted Sam this whole time, you didn’t care.

He runs his hand through your hair, tangling it around as he pulls, “Need you.”

He moves down a stair or two to dip his head down to attach his lips to your clit. You lay a hand on the back of his head as you grip the stair next to you, moaning out.

He thrusts his fingers in and out of you as his tongue works your clit, groaning against you as he feels you reaching your point of orgasm.

You watch down at him, moaning and whimpering out his name as you squeeze his fingers, “Fuck, fuck. Right there.”

You arch your back, pushing your chest out as you cum, “Yes yes yes.” You gasp and look down, breathing out quiet, “Fuck.”

He moves back up, “C’mon. My knees are killing me.” You laugh as you watch him stand up, “Now you know my pain, Golbach.”

His head snaps down at you and you stand up, a little wobbly, but he picks you up bridal style and walks up the steps, “I should have known something like that was going to slip from those pretty little lips.”

You smirk at him before he tosses you onto the bed and immediately discarding his clothes. You watch him as he moves up to hover above you.

He shifts in between your legs as you spread them and you can feel the tip of his cock brushing against where you want him most, “Please.” You whimper as you move your hips.

“Oh so now you want to be nice?” He smirks as he leans down to kiss you, moving back your jaw and down your neck, “maybe if you take the rest of your clothes off too, we can finish this and watch the rest of the movie.”

You lean up slightly, pulling the shirt from your body and tossing it, “Fuck the movie.”

Sam hooks his fingers into your panties and pulls them down just enough for you to slip a leg out and he wastes no more time.

You freeze and grip his shoulders as you feel him slide into you, “Sam.” You moan out almost breathless. He buries his face into your neck, moaning along with you.

His hands have a harsh grip on your hips, “Goddamn.” He lifts his head and looks down at you only to crash his lips onto yours as he starts thrusting slow, but quickly builds up to a punishing pace.

You swallow each other’s moans as you both cling to each other. Getting so tangled up into the moment that you don’t realize you left red lines across his back.

“So close..” you whimper out, “S-Sam..”

Your back arches off the bed, pressing your chest to his as you cum around his cock. His arm slides under you, holding you against him as his thrusts bring you to that point all over again, “cum for me.”

You hang your head back, moaning out as Sam fucks you through your high. Your nails paint even more scratches on his back before sliding a hand up to the back of his head.

He rests his forehead against yours, groaning out as he’s getting ready to cum, “Fuck, y/n.” He moves his head down to push yours up as he kisses you.

His thrusts are growing sloppy, and soon after he slows his thrusts down, your legs pulling him into you more.

“Sh-Shit.” He pulls out and lays on you, breathing heavy just like you. Your hand instantly goes to play with his hair and you let out a content sigh, “Thank you.”

“For what?” He asks keeping his head rested on your chest and you try to hold in your laugh but you can’t, “For getting me to not wait until the end of the movie.”

He slowly lifts his head and looks up at you with a smirk, “Anytime, babe. Anytime.”

——

Thank you for reading!

Likes and reblogs are appreciated!

1K notes · View notes

athanasius-symposium-of-writings · 4 months

Text

Are You A Good Man

For this ask

Rated Explicit | Warnings: Violence

Ao3

“Remember the question I asked you?”

The mercenary is quiet as he glances away as he becomes thoughtful then his eyes go back to you, “You asked if I was a good man.”

“And your answer?”

“I don't know.” He does not once flinch as you replace the bandages on his back, specifically the center of his back where a bullet had formerly pierced him but only hit flesh, not bone. He was lucky the round wasn't any bigger.

“A good man would give that answer.” Once finished you close your medical bag and throw away the dirty bandages in the small trash bin beside the bed. “It is healing well, I still recommend you don't overwork yourself.”

“Why are you helping me?” The man moves and sits on the bed facing you, there are a million scars on his body telling stories only he can give voice to. You do not pry, you only patch him up and clean passwords that did not heal properly.

“Because you were in need of help.” Standing up with your supplies in your hand, “Need me to check anything else, Naib Subedar?” From what you can recall that is not a name but a rank, a low rank in the infantry if your father's books are accurate. A fake name and no you will not push to find out more about him. A man has secrets for a reason.

When your assistant found him on the side of a road in an automobile that was idle on the side of a cliffside road, he looked like he was in a fight. Not the bar fight kind. That night, you told the assistant the story about the man who fell down some stairs— A lie in case anyone asks about him. The mystery man slept for two days, on the second night he woke up but was not as cognitive as he is now. His reaction from waking up on a bed with an IV connected to his wrist and you standing above the bed to check on his vitals, the way he had grabbed your hand, twisting but not the full bend as much of his strength had left him.

This man is clearly trained, you figure a soldier.

You saved his life because are a doctor and you uphold your oath. The debt he feels he owes you will never be paid, not that you put such an idea in his head.

Must be an honor system he upholds, again proving he is a good man.

“No.” He stares at the kit in your hand.

“Alright—”

“Who was that kid from before?”

“Him?” You did not realize Naib saw the young man you gave an envelope of money to, “Just a kid.” You turn to leave but he snatches your wrist holding you back.

“Who. Is. He?” This voice has a dark lace to it that makes you feel cornered. Two wolves, one clearly the alpha, the one who protects and hunts.

“...” Pressing your lips together then looking away before closing them, “He picks up the protection money.” Answering him.

“You pay for protection?”

“Naib Subedar, don't ask questions you have the answer to.”

Small towns are easy targets and given how beautiful this place is, someone wants to flush everyone out. Best peaceful way to do this is by either buyout or extortion.

“Who do you pay this to?” That he does not know.

“Will you kill him?” Your narrowed eyes turn to him, “We can't pay you.” Pulling your hand out of his grasp, “Just forget it.”

He does not push, he does get up and put his top back on and puts on his hood.

“Naib Subedar?”

“You never call me ‘Naib’.” At the door, “Guess you know what it means, huh, doc?”

You say nothing.

“I'll be back later. Keep the doors locked and don't leave the house.” He orders.

You jerk awake to the guest room window being slid open by a hooded figure, you sit up as he enters the room. Blood and sweat. “Naib Subedar?” Rubbing your eyes.

“You slept here.” Rusting of clothing and shoes.

“Hmm,” You go back to lying down when the bed shifts to the new weight added. “You smell.”

“I'll bathe later.” His breath is warm and blows against your neck making you shiver. “It's cold.” A complaint you barely hear as you slip back to sleep. He moves closer, his arm drawing you close to his solid body. You groan as he was not kidding about being cold.

“Not a heater.” Mumbling in your sleep as he uses you as his personal heater.

The mercenary shushes you until all he hears is your soft breathing of slumber, his eyes closing as he inhales your scent from your hair, clinging to you.

That is how far he will go.

The following morning you awaken alone. You figure him coming home last night was a dream but you see a note left by him. Left you breakfast, thanks doc. You put on a robe before going downstairs to see he made a simple breakfast, two toast, and two boiled eggs. Really simple, but appreciated.

Given your clinic is closed today, you decide to enjoy the day by being home and reading a book. Nothing too special.

This peace lasted up until there was banging at the door.

The short of banging you know from your years after finishing medical school only to be forced back home by your family.

“Open up now!” And you did. “Patch him up.” The kid from yesterday— He is an adult but Naib Subedar called him a kid compared to how old he is. “And no funny business, doc.” There was no ‘funny business’ and you patched the man up.

The downstairs portion of your house is the clinic, the kitchen is off to the side near the entrance of the house. Luckily, during the day you got dressed as if you were going out or these guys would think you have something to offer. Not like being in clothes doesn't stop them from saying some crude things towards you.

“I did what I could but he needs to rest before anything can start healing.” Removing your bloody gloves.

“Fuck! Boss is going to be pissed about this.” Says one lowlife.

“Shit, what are we going to do?”

“Can start by taking him home.” You suggest.

They both look at you and then go back to figuring out what to do, you just leave them in the patient room to go wash your hands in the kitchen. You go very quiet when you see Naib Subedar grabbing a knife from your cutlery set.

His index finger is on his lips as he moves forward and his hand takes yours, guiding you to hide in the pantry.

You know what to do, you have been here before.

You close your ears and crouch down, counting from one to twenty.

Naib Subedar is quick and efficient, the mess is minimal and he deals with it with practiced movements. He did not let you lift a finger as he cleaned the mess, but he had to sadly make it look like someone hurt you before getting the three thugs.

“Here and here.” Showing him the best spots to hit you that will look worse than they appear.

“Sorry.”

“Don't be.”

That evening you stay at your assistant's place, a small apartment near the popular part of the town.

“Naib Subedar.”

“You've done this before.”

“My dad was in the military. He fell in with the wrong people after.” Eating your food. It has been three weeks since Naib Subedar has made it his personal job to kill every last one of these gangsters. A small time group that he can remove like a splinter. “He had me help out after I came home from getting my degree.”

“So that is why you asked the question?”

“No, that was for me. I hoped one day to use my skills to save a good person for once. And here you are.”

He goes back to eating the food you made.

“Are you going to leave?”

He hums and shrugs.

That night you slept with him. Not as payment, because you wanted something to remember him by.

To be in the arms of someone who saved your home and thus you in the process.

“(Name)...” Above you naked with only the moonlight to height his features.

“Naib.” Under him, the darkness is shunned away as moonlight kisses your skin, “Thank you.” He is everything, though you do not love him, you want him as badly as you need air. He takes only as much as you can give. Slowly, he makes sure this is engraved on his skin and mind.

“Louder.”

You cling to him as he keeps moving, the pace going from slow to fast. Both of you are desperate to cum. Your nails scratching down his back, legs squeezing around his hips, your mouth crying out a symphony of pleasure.

Naib fights to keep his eyes open, you are the best thing that has happened to him.

“God, god, please.”

“Wrong name, try again.”

“Naib, fuck, I need you.” Tears at the corner of your eyes. He growls, hips pistols, grabs your legs, and pushes them until your knees touch your shoulders. the mercenary deeper and you are trapped, helpless. You cry out the name he gave you, everything related to him is completely on you.

He doesn't stop after the first round, nor the second, or the third. The six times he finally is exhausted and you are lying in bed completely spent on your front.

When it is morning, you wake up to his body spooning yours.

#reader insert #naib subedar #idv naib #identity v x you #identity v x reader #identity v #identity v naib #naib subedar x reader #naib subedar x you #naib x reader #naib x you #idv mercenary #identity v mercenary #idv

114 notes · View notes

konigsblog · 1 year

Text

yandere gaz x gn!reader

this is a part 3 (i think?) to the yandere series, sorry for doing these all in parts i just did more popular ones + the ones i knew more!! but if you have any other recommendations please lmk im in need for ideas rn

gaz

sfw

i can imagine yandere gaz to be a sweetheart, little bit obsessive and possessiveness and also a little bit delusional. he doesn't believe he's wrong for being inlove but he does get that feeling that he's doing something wrong. regardless of how he feels he will never let you free. your his, simple.

he loves to show affection by biting. he loves to bite at your neck and ears! he wants you to do the same. please bite him!!

i can't imagine gaz to be that good of a chef, he definitely tries though! if you're being a brat and not listening he'll lace your food and watch as your cute face gets drowsy before you fall into a deep sleep.

he loves to stare at you as you sleep. sometimes you have to distract him, you have your ways but regardless you'll end up covered in kisses and spit.

the first day you came, you were tied up to a chair and your hands were chained up against the back of the chair. you looked up, to see that smirk of his face. which was replaced by adoration as tears welled up in your eyes when he brought a knife to your neck. "not a sound, baby." he mumbled to you before he pulled you head into a kiss.

he let you call and hed listen to make sure nothing was said that put him and his darling in a bad position. he would kill eveyone who was worried for you, he did feel bad seeing the confusion turn to realization on your face as they suddenly stopped calling.

nsfw

would definitely give you sex as a way of forgiveness. fingering you/jerking you off as you beg for more of him.

he was so greedy for you, wanting every inch if you to himself. which is why you got kidnapped. too sweet and cute for your own good.

again, like ive said before.. he loves biting, seeing you try squirm away from his grip as he bites down hard enough to draw blood.

when you bite him, god, he could cum on the spot. the blood dripping from your mouth. "fucking hell, love." he'd groan into your mouth as you pulled him in for a long, sloppy kiss.

his dream would be him coming home from a mission, you slowly jerking him off as he begged for more whilst moaning into your ear and making out.

if you had been naughty, you can expect to have hand marks from him spanking you til tears welled up.

and taking you from being, seeing your ass move when his full balls slapped hard against your ass.

his kinks: knife play, biting, spanking.

#call of duty modern warfare #cod x reader #ghost call of duty #cod x y/n #ghost headcanon #modern warefare ii #ghost x reader #könig #simon ghost riley #simon riley smut #gaz mw2 #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader

166 notes · View notes

slptkns · 1 year

Note

I have a fanfic idea ! Poly sleep token x reader where the eepies find out the reader draws and doodles them all a lot (idk how they’d react to it but I love the way you characterise them so I’m interested to see what u come up with)

Ok this is so cute!!! Let me see what I can come up with!

You were sitting at your desk- writing, drawing? Vessel wasn't sure. None of them were. They would ask sometimes, but you would never give a direct answer. But you did look like you were enjoying yourself, and that's all that really mattered.

"Have you drank water lately?" Vessel asked from the love seat he had been occupying.

"Oh shit!" You, suddenly realizing you were very parched, got up fast to go get some. "Thanks Ves!"

When they noticed your book was left open, curiosity began to eat at IV. He slowly stood and began to walk towards the open journal. His eyes peeked towards the kitchen and back at Vessel, who was just watching him.

When Vessel did not scold him, he kept going. He noticed drawings on both of the pages that were visible. And, while he finally knew what you were doing, he became even more curious as to what you were actually drawing.

He saw some doodles, but that would not suffice.

He took one more step towards the book and saw himself doodled on the left page. He let out a soft gasp.

"Hey!" Your hand grabbed the book and shut it, bringing it to your chest, "What do you think you're doing?"

IV was too elated to feel embarrassment that he was caught. Instead, he cocked his head and pointed at himself, as if asking if that really was him.

You groaned and put the book back down, "Fine." You motioned for the others to come over and they gladly obliged, "Since you seem so excited I'll show you what I've been drawing."

You opened the journal up to the first page and let them see what it was you were doing. Vessel, not caring to just skim through the pages, decided to pick it up to get a better look at it. The others gathered around him and your face began to heat up.

"(Y/N)," Vessel started, "This is wonderful, love."

Your face got even hotter. "Um, yeah, thanks, I've been wanting to study anatomy, and you all look really nice on stage!"

Vessel was slowly flipping through the pages and get stopped, dead center. You leaned over to see why he stopped and had to stifle your laughter

"Is this... is this a doodle of us with cat ears?"

"I didn't say it was all realistic. I wanted to see how you would all look with cat ears. And I came to the conclusion that it's cute!"

They all nodded in unison and you snorted. "Okay," Vessel seemed to realize he was going to have to just deal with it. "Next time, let us know if you want to draw us, we don't mind being your muses."

Your lips stretched into a wide, toothy grin and you nodded, "Of course."

#sleep token fanfiction #sleep token vessel #sleep token ii #sleep token iii #sleep token iv #sleep token #anon #ask #answered

90 notes · View notes

chiimeramanticore · 2 months

Text

Part of The Band - Chapter 21: Copy

ive been a terrible slacker with uploading potb chapters here lol. instead of going back and uploading every chapter that i've missed here (a LOT of them) im just gonna keep going from where we're at. i suggest reading on AO3 to get the full experience!

The gang takes a promotional day for the band. Mitzi draws a flyer design. The gang meets a new face.

Read it on AO3!

---

Dook sits on the couch of the band room next to Mitzi, who's been drawing a flyer idea for a while now. They're taking a "promotional" day today at practice. Everyone older than Mitzi has been tasked with piles of newspapers, scouring the wanted ads for anyone in need of a band. Billy Bob had suggested they start with lower stakes– even the best bands have to start playing in someone's garage.

"Man, maybe we've got this all wrong," Beach Bear says. "I've seen more ads for clowns for kids' birthday parties than I have for anyone who actually needs a band." He scoffs, adjusting his position in the chair to be even more lopsided than before.

"What, you wanna get into kid's entertainment?" Fatz raises an eyebrow at him.

"No," Beach Bear smirks, "I think we should all become clowns."

Looney Bird laughs. "You'd be a terrible clown, Beach Bear," he chimes in.

"Yeah, you would know, wouldn't ya?" Beach Bear tells him. "You already look like a clown."

"Dook has the nose already," Mitzi adds.

Dook gasps, a hand moving to cover his nose. "It's not that big," he insists. "And it ain't red!"

"Keep blushing like that and it will be soon," Beach Bear teases. Dook doesn't respond, but does in fact grow redder upon hearing it.

"Look," Mitzi says, putting down the colored pencil she was using. She proudly lifts up the paper to show everyone her design. It's a flyer advertising the Rock-afire Explosion– the background is a bright explosion pattern, with the text in vibrant purple and red letters.

"Woah," Dook murmurs.

"Nice job, Mitzi!" Beach Bear exclaims, taking the flyer from her to look at it closer. "We can totally put these up around town."

"We've gotta make copies, then," Billy Bob says.

"Sounds like a trip to the store," Fatz replies.

"Oh! I wanna ride in the front!" Mitzi stands excitedly, already making her way to the door.

·–—–·

The office supply store is not that large, and never very crowded. The store is lined with racks of paper, stationary, scissors, and so on. Near the back wall, a single employee sits bored by the register. Sitting in the center of the store, the coveted copier machine– by their luck, the one thing in the store already occupied.

The group mostly files in behind the cat at the machine, doing their best not to crowd him. Looney Bird and Mitzi wander off to check out the other fixtures of the store. The employee at the register has a radio set up, the sound of the Bee Gees quietly pouring out into the rest of the store. Besides that and the sound of the copy machine, it's dead quiet in the store.

Dook stares at the promotional posters on the wall. This store has a mascot, a tiger holding a cardboard box, promoting that you can send mail from the store. Dook looks back over to the cashier, a small orange cat. Kind of a difference. He looks back at the cat using the copier machine. He's lanky, taller than Dook by a bit but definitely shorter than Beach Bear. He's mostly black, with white fur accenting his ears and hands. He's wearing a T-shirt and jeans, a baseball cap sat backward on his head. The cap has a word embroidered on it: "Swingers."

Dook cocks his head, trying to get a better look at what he's making so many copies of. It's brightly colored, but he can't make out the text. Without thinking, he takes a step forward, trying to get a better look. The cat's ear twitches, and he glances over his shoulder to address the group.

"Oh–! Sorry, I didn't realize how long this'd take." He glances back at the machine. "I shouldn't be too much longer."

"What're you making?" Dook asks.

"Oh, just some flyers for work," the cat replies. He pulls one from the machine and hands it to Dook.

"Showbiz Pizza Place?" Beach Bear reads from over his shoulder. "Never heard of it."

"That's because it's new," the cat says. "Not opened yet. My boss is in the restaurant business, and he's trying to start a franchise sort of situation."

"Interesting boss," Dook murmurs, still staring at the flyer.

"What are you guys making?" The cat continues. "If you don't mind."

"Flyers, too," Beach Bear says, nudging Fatz. Fatz hands the cat Mitzi's flyer.

He looks it over. "You're a band?"

"It's not clear from the flyer?" Billy Bob asks.

"It's just hard to tell past..." He taps the drawing of an explosion on the page. "Are you any good?"

"It's not clear from the flyer?" Beach Bear says, gesturing toward the same explosion.

The cat laughs. "We're looking for a band to perform at Showbiz," he explains. "You should sign up. Keep the flyer."

The copier finally finishes, and the cat picks up the stack of papers it's produced. "I've gotta run," he says, already moving for the door, "but keep us in mind! You could be just what the boss is looking for!"

The front door swings shut, and he's gone.

Dook looks down at the flyer once more, an address listed at the bottom. "Maybe we will."

#rae #rockafire explosion #rock afire explosion #showbiz pizza #fanfiction #potb #juno.txt #my art

10 notes · View notes

hiroshotreplica · 10 months

Text

About Agent 3's Sanitation Scars

aka, agent oc lore post

this is a bit long, sorry about that! ill place it all under a cut so no one has to scroll through it all if they dont want to read, note there's some colored text + some drawings

ever since alister (3) and josh (8) were rescued from the deepsea metro and tartar was defeated, callie and marie have been very worried. josh has his own host of issues, but alister's are much more... visible. doctors have no idea how to treat alister's condition, and have just been monitoring his healing process. alister doesnt remember a thing about the sanitation, despite having been only partially sanitized. all witnesses referred to it as a form of mind control.

marie had asked zara (4) about what she had seen first, she seemed much more approachable about the subject. this was under a week after the rescue:

zara: i rescued him and josh from the blender, yeah. though he got ambushed by a strange telephone as soon as we tried to follow josh through the escape route. i managed to dodge the telephone's attacks, but... yeah, alister wasn't as lucky.

marie: do you remember his appearance?

zara: that strange.. i dont even know, goop? just- that strange stuff wrapped around his head. it looked like it was digging into the back of his head. i remember... before he got completely taken over by the strange.. thing and tied me up... he looked at me with.. fear. fear ive never seen before, it had so much.. pain and certainty in it. like he was thinking "im going to die"

marie: oh... that sounds terrifying. was there anything else...?

zara: he... he said one thing. while the goopy stuff was being planted onto him. i dont remember it completely, he whispered it, but he said "so this is it. it... hurts" it... scared me. marie, you know ive been working with him on agent stuff for the past year! he's never sounded so... so... you know.

she didn't have any further comments.

when he could handle the question, marie had asked josh as well. this took place a month after the incident:

marie: so... are you sure you're ready to think about what happened again? i know it's still very recent, even if some time has passed.

josh: y.. yes. i am sure. it is the less painful parts, so i do not mind as much, i think.

marie: alright... what do you remember?

josh: alister, he... he looks like he was in pain. a lot of pain. during the battle, he missed lots of attacks due to it, im sure. his hands had shaking the whole time then.

josh: once we reach the surface and.. things were better again, he was no longer being controlled. and the sight... i dont know the word in inklish, the closest would be scary, i believe. it was... deep scar. everything around the scar had a greenish color to it. he could not see well when he woke up, and he mentioned being in so much pain...

marie: oh, oh jeez... i can see why the bandage was put on it now.

josh: it was the best we have at the time. the one he has now is... much better.

marie: yeah... do you want to stop? you look uncomfortable..

josh: ...yes. thinking of it again... i-it is making me upset more than i realize it could. i am sorry

he couldn't make any further comments.

extra visual of how alister looked at this time:

extra info: his eyesight improved over the first couple of months, though it stopped eventually. he has blurred vision. he has glasses that do slightly correct it, but he never wears them. i imagine he shows some symptoms that would correlate to right hemisphere brain damage. but i need to put more research into that first

#was super experimental about this. plus theres some details that i havent mentioned yet #the only super important fact is that capn cuttlefish is not present at all and alister was with josh instead #im so autistic about my agents you guys have no idea #oc: alister #oc: zara #oc: josh #long post #cw scar #cw injury #just in case #splatoon #agent 3 oc #feeling a lil confident today with the tags #sorry for the rough drawings.. my drawing tablet is struggling to function lol

27 notes · View notes

waynedunlaptheorgandonor · 10 months

Text

i have been Swamped with full-time freelance writing and a full-time job on top of it, and you guys have been so so so patient with me going months and months and months without updating anything, so i decided to give you little sneak-peeks at the next “diy steps to serenity” and “an unfinished memory” chapters to prove to you that i do actually have content, it’s just been sitting idle as i’ve been forced to write less-fun things for money :(

i’m going to have a break in my work writing obligations here v v v soon, and updating these fics will be my vacation before the next obligations begin, and i am extremely hype

snippets under the cut:

DIY Steps to Serenity Excerpt:

The next thing she registered were forms being thrust at her, demanding her signature, as if she had any capacity to read. She mumbled the answers to questions about her birthdate and address, and scribbled her name poorly where they told her to on a tablet. Then, all of a sudden, a nurse was wiping the crook of her elbow down with an alcohol swab, and she forced herself out of her fog of suffering.

"No no no, wait," she said, trying to angle away.

"They gotta give you an IV to put you under for surgery, baby," Daryl said, his fingers brushing her hair back off her forehead. Carol shook her head vehemently.

"I can't," she insisted, eyes wide with fear.

"I know but you don't got a choice, honey, it'll be okay. Everythin's okay." Evidently, he'd regained his mantra from somewhere, but Carol still wasn't convinced.

"Don't worry, you won't feel a thing. We're going to push some Dilaudid through to help control the pain while we wait to take you back for anesthesia," Leopard Print Scrubs said, thinking that Carol's fear was with the surgery, and not with the small syringe of clear liquid that she was preparing to push directly into her veins. She looked to Daryl helplessly, who simply shook his head.

"You got no choice," he repeated. Through the pain and fright and flood of confusion, Carol tried to think of an alternative. What did they used to do before pain medication? Maybe they could get her some whiskey and a big rock to bite down on. Not ideal, but she was so close to her twelve-month chip, which she didn't realize until that moment was something she actually gave a shit about.

"I'm just gonna flush your IV with some saline, and then we'll get that medicine in you and get you feeling better, you poor thing," Leopard Print Scrubs said. With her free hand, Carol reached for Daryl. He took it without hesitation.

"I won't be sober," she whispered to him through tears that she wasn't sure were new or had been falling since she'd arrived.

"But you'll be alive."

An Unfinished Memory Excerpt:

“Come now, don’t be like that,” Merle said. He came around and sat next to Daryl on the couch. He smelled like cigarettes and the cheap perfume of whichever girl he’d been cozying up with at the bar the night before. “If you need help lookin’ like a fine, upstandin’ citizen then I’ll do my damndest, but first you gotta be straight with me.”

“Straight with you about what?” Daryl didn’t look at his brother, opting instead to fiddle with his drawing, which was now just a crinkly ball in his hands. Pity, he thought, he’d liked that one well enough to have kept it, if Merle hadn’t ruined it. Whatever, he could always just draw it again.

“Carol. What’s goin’ on between the two of you? And don’t come at me with that ‘we’re just friends’ bullshit.”

“Well we are, so I dunno what the fuck else you want me to say.”

“The truth. You know everyone who goes through the Roadhouse all call her your girl, and she ain’t never denied it.”

“You know that was just so them guys would stop puttin’ moves on her when she was just doin’ her damn job.”

“Yeah, but that was months ago. You’d think by now the truth woulda come out, but if anythin’, with the way you two cozy up with each other when you’re together at the diner, y’all only reinforce it.”

“Good, then they’ll keep leavin’ her be.” Daryl pointedly did not address the “cozy up” comment.

“You know that ain’t my point.”

“Then what is it?” Daryl knew he was being purposefully obtuse, and he knew Merle knew it too, but he refused to give his brother the satisfaction of dignifying his taunts with a response.

But then Merle said, “She’d be good for you, you know? A girl like her. If you was with her I’d support it. Hell, I’d more than support it. I’d be over the damn moon.”

Daryl let his hands still, the staticky crumpling sound of the paper finally ceasing. He tossed the ball onto the table and leaned back on the uncomfortable couch, the structure of the thing hitting him at all kinds of unpleasant angles where the cushion was worn away. He stared headlong at the television in front of him. It wasn’t on, but the alternative was looking at his brother, and he didn’t think he could say what he was about to say and meet another person’s eye at the same time.

He said, so quietly he could hardly hear it himself, “Maybe I would be, too.”

#diy steps to serenity #an unfinished memory #dunlap writes shit #and will finish shit soon too #promise #caryl #caryl fic #twd

27 notes · View notes

squidcandy · 1 year

Note

staring into your soul rn can i hear about your akatsuki headcanons? ive recently come around to loving these little sillies and need some food <3

Oh my god. Where do I beginnn. Opening up the little notes app doc I keep them on

Bulleted list obviously

Keito is autistic, Kuro has ADHD and Souma is the AuDHD poster child

Kuro has a bag that he carries around with him full of safe snacks and noise canceling headphones and fidget toys for all of them when things get bad in the sensory department

Keito and Souma go on morning jogs together. Kuro wants to join them but he sleeps in.

This one is technically canon but. Sleepovers at Keito's house. Souma and Keito drag Kuro out of the futon by his ankles at 6 am

Kuro has a super warm body, and Keito has the heat retention of reptile. He's almost cold blooded. When it's cold, Souma and Keito will stand closer to Kuro/huddle near him to use him as a heater. They do it unconsciously, and though Kuro notices, he doesn't say anything because he thinks it's cute :)

Kuro's sister thinks Keito is boring and lame.

In order to get Souma to check his phone more often, Keito has gotten him a virtual pet app. Souma's virtual pet is very well maintained. Kuro's is dead.

Because Kuro usually helps Keito into outfits, Keito sometimes just stands around pre-interviews/shows, expecting someone to put his coat on for him before he realizes Kuro isn't there and does it himself.

Kuro believes in the philosphy of Anything can be fixed with a good smack. He did this with the TV in the common room, and now there's a big black blotch in the corner from where he "gave it a good one"

Kuro often chews the backs of his pencils and straws, so Keito bought him a chewy pendant and pencil attachment. He worries about how much lead Kuro has consumed.

Souma shakes his head and hands to stim. He keeps slapping people with his ponytail, though.

Keito just needs to do things with his fingers to let the happy energy out, either adjusting his glasses, hair, gesturing, or stretching them.

When Keito is on his own and reading a good book or manga, he'll kick/bounce his legs to stim.

Kuro has sleep fought Souma (who was also asleep) Keito, who was in the sleeping bag to the left of them, felt mortal fear.

Keito's dorm with Hajime and Hokuto Reeks of Lavender and Sandalwood. Hokuto would Like to say something about it, but it actually isn't so bad.

Kuro listens to Doja Cat. He thinks it's neat. He doesn't understand the lyrics very well.

Keito has Banned Doja Cat from the office Playlist. He cannot Get into It (Yuh!). 'It' being his paperwork.

Souma will never know what a Doja Cat is. He thinks Kuro must be hiding some sort of feline in the dojo.

Keito is very good at baking, because he's good at measuring things and following instructions

Kuro usually goes with his gut when it comes to cooking and it tastes great.

Souma has excellent memory and recreates Niki's dishes almost perfectly.

Kuro does his sister's hair and practices new styles on Souma. Sometimes, he'll put clips and things in Keito's hair when he's asleep or intensely focused.

Kuro snores extremely loudly. It's horrible. Dad snores.

Keito will often fall asleep immediately after a performance and Kuro has to resist the urge to pinch his cheeks/draw stuff on his face. He has failed to resist on more than one occasion.

There occasions on which Souma regrets telling Kuro and Keito to include him when discussing things, because this has now extended to the pettiest of arguments. "Kanzaki, tell Kiryu that he needs to put the dishes in the sink as soon as he's done" "it's not that big a deal, danna. Right Kanzaki?"

Akatsuki photocards and promotional materials aren't selfies, but rather pictures that they took of eachother.

Kuro and Keito walk around ES with eachother non-stop. When Keito is in the office, Kuro drops and him off and picks him up.

Kuro tries very hard to get Souma in on his dad joke sense of humor. It has only partially worked.

#anon tag #squid speaks #akatsuki #enstars #ensemble stars #kuro kiryu #souma kanzaki #keito hasumi #there are more but those are more situational. my hobby is putting akatsuki into Situations #i tried to keep it gen but if some krk got in there im sorry im yaoibrained #if you ask me for Specific headcanons i can Say More

48 notes · View notes

sailorshadzter · 9 months

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/jonnelsansa/722513942441754624/imagine-if-instead-of-aegonys-pathetic-sex-scene?source=share here is my prompt <3

i realize only now that ive kind of fucked up the timelines???

so uh.... lets pretend i didnt lol

also its softer than you might have intended it to be. but i enjoyed this prompt a lot!!! so thank you!!! <3

send me prompts

He’s falling, faster and faster, into a dream of the past.

Memories all around him, ones that do not belong to him, but ones which paint a picture for him that he should have seen coming all along.

In another room, she stands just before him, just out of reach, yet somehow just within. “Sansa…” Her name on his lips, it sends chills down her spine. He wonders just how many times they would be in this same place before it became something it always should have been, something they both wanted, but something they could never have. He’s been away all these long weeks and he’s thought of little else beyond her- every waking thought, every dream, always full of her. She smiles, head tilting, red hair a waterfall across a shoulder; she’s beyond perfect, beyond anything he’s ever wanted, ever deserved.

“... one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever…” There are no cheers as the silver-haired groom leans in to tenderly kiss the woman he stands before, a woman who he recognizes even though they’ve never before met. He sees in her the sisters he loves- Arya, in color and spirit, Sansa in grace and build. It’s his aunt Lyanna, the beloved sister of his father, the one who died far too young. She’s smiling as she draws back, the man’s hands cupping her cheeks as they stare into one another’s eyes, as if there wasn’t another soul around them.

If the silvery hair wasn’t enough of a giveaway, it’s the colors of his clothing that tell him all he needs to know. This man was Rhaegar Targaryen and this was not a kidnapping, but rather, a marriage of love. True love.

Every moment without him… It’s been a long and lonely road, his absence forever in the back of her mind. Everything was a reminder of him- the desk where he’d sit on the edge, leaning in to talk with her. The soft furs of his bed, somehow far more comforting than hers ever could be. The warmth of his touch when she’s had another nightmare… She takes a single step closer to where he stands, the gap between them all but a hairsbreadth. “Jon…” His name is soft upon her lips, the sweetest sound he’s ever heard. They’ve been here before, of course, time and time again. She can’t help but to wonder which time will be the last.

He’s the first one to reach out, all so his fingertips can trace the soft curve of her cheek, ivory skin warm beneath his touch. All he wants is to take this a step further, to take her into his arms and hold her- not as a bastard brother might hold his sister, but as a man holds the woman he loves. Jon knows it’s wrong, was he no better than Lannister scum? But… He cannot help it, cannot stop it. The feelings course through him each and every day, the warmth of her presence, it all brings him a sense of peace he can never put to words. A sense of peace he never wants to lose, never wants to let go of, no matter what the world around them might say.

This was where she’s longed to be all this time, all these weeks without him. Now that he’s returned, she’s not certain she can ever let him go again. “Don’t go…” She whispers and he lets out the breath he didn’t realize he’s even been holding in. That’s when he opens his arms and she sinks into his touch, knowing there was nowhere else she wanted to stay.

The dream changes again and he knows he stands in Dorne.

There is his father, younger than Robb or Jon, rushing up the stairs of the stone tower, following after the screams from within. When he follows after, he comes into a blood soaked room, the only inhabitants his father, a maid, and a woman he once again recognizes as the aunt lost to death. “Ned… Is that you…?” Her weakened voice breaks the silence as Ned Stark sinks to the floor beside her bed, uncaring of the blood that stains his knees and hands. “It’s not a dream?” Lyanna asks tearfully, her quivering lips curving with a smile at the sight of her big brother.

“It’s not a dream, I’m here,” his father’s voice is not as he will come to know, but young, full of worry.

Their exchange is heartfelt and sorrowful, their pain palpable. Bran watches from where he stands as the single maid brings the baby close, offering him to Ned without a single word. Somehow, someway, Bran knows what’s happening before Lyanna speaks again. “His name… Is Aegon Targaryen.” She cries softly, looking into the face of the son she will never get to know. “Protect him Ned, please… Robert will kill him if he finds out…” She whispers, weakening, tears wetting her cheeks. “Promise me, Ned…” It’s all she can say now, over and over again as she sinks further and further into darkness. “Promise me…”

Ned nods, a single tear escaping; it would be his greatest promise of them all.

He knows they cannot do this.

“Sansa… I…” He murmurs into her hair, breathing in her ever familiar scent, finding comfort in it, even now. Somehow, she knows, she understands, as she always does, for she’s the one who pulls away, knowing perhaps as well as he did what would certainly follow if she didn’t. It was all he wanted, but he knows that it can never be, will never be. Only in the sweetest dream could she be his as he wished.

“The first meeting is early tomorrow,” she reminds him softly and he blinks, but smiles, a chuckle escaping as he gives a single nod. Tomorrow, everything they’ve worked for, everything that Jon has fought for, would finally begin to pan out. The alliance he’s sought, the fruit of his labor, will all come to a head tomorrow with the first meeting between Winterfell and the dragon queen. “You should sleep,” she goes on, thinking of the many sleepless nights he’s surely endured over these last few weeks, for had she not experienced them herself?

Jon nods, but even when he turns to go, he hesitates.

Somehow, despite it all, he cannot bring himself to go. “Good night,” she whispers, stronger than he ever could be, and he knows… He has to go. And so he leans in, tenderly brushing a kiss against the top of her head, wishing with all of his heart that it might be her lips. And then… He’s gone, leaving her to sink into the nearest chair, her sorrow falling from her eyes faster than she can wipe them away.

Outside her door, Jon curses, wishing it didn’t have to be this way.

#jonsa #actuallyjonsa #jon x sansa #u dont know how badly i wanted them to KISS #but you said angst #so i hope i delivered #writing prompts #send me prompts #my writing #i wrote this

17 notes · View notes

naddpod-encounter-tourney · 1 year

Text

Cerenysus:

We begin in the Autumn Ring, with Irina’s mind poisoned by the corruption on the ritual by her sister, Heradecia.

She summons living spells and tries to turn Fia into a book. Fia finally uses the time stop scroll and uses it to buff herself to hell. Zirk invisibly fires from behind Irina. Hank stays consistent. Heradecia teleports out.

We then find the Hexbuds, approaching the scorched grove where they can find her surrogate mother. They share an intense closed-loop hug, and turn to face her. Jabari stays back. Tarragon gets close. Corbeaux gets trapped by bony hands. They move around the space, taking damage for each other and attempting to stop her spells. 3 soldiers, capable of fighting like 300. The Hexblood Centurions.

Back in Autumn, Hank goes down because he’s the only one visible. Irina strikes while he’s down, taking a death save. And, as @theatricuddles sent me in an ask, Fia only turns to strike Irina after that moment.

After many rounds of battle, Irina is finally unconscious, thanks to a soft finish by Fia. She is held in Fia’s arms, as Zirk prepares to take off the crown. Fia says, "Foolish tenderness, but I'm going to cast Sanctuary on Irina". (thanks to @theatricuddles for the quote reminder). In the words of Murph, “we’re leaving it up to a Caldwell roll.” No one stays sitting in the two-dio. Zirk comes close. Makes a deal with a winter fairy. Fails again. Dies. At some point, Lou Wilson stands up from the table and puts his head against a closet.

Jabari is put under a banishment spell, and Tarragon and Corbeaux have a difficult time taking her on just the two of them. Jabari realizes he’s in a bad place when the toads are wet, and works hard to get himself out.

Henry is given a chance to get the crown. Fia tells him not to. She sees what protecting Irina has cost her and cannot let it continue. “You were my dream for so fucking long and I. I’m going to miss you so much.” Henry refuses. He takes the risk. He gets the crown. Zirk is revivified by Fia. Irina, back in control of herself, teleports them to her sister.

Hank gets some hits on Heradecia. Corbeaux nearly goes down, and is saved by Tarragon’s Death Ward. Jabari screamed “let’s kill her” upon his return, and is able to do just that, trisecting her.

The Hexbuds return to Outerborough. Jabari becomes Chancellor. The Hexbloods become his cabinet. They have a ritual to atone their mother.

The Third Mates assign Bukvar to sort the souls and make sure no one gets stuck waiting, as souls had been for years. Hank gets his divorce. Zirk works harder on the all-cure. They get their boat, and head to sea. Irina and Fia make it official.

One Big Bed:

The beginning is so soft and beautiful. Carrying Balnor back to the ship to rest after the Raise Dead. Budler framing Hardwon’s tasteful nude drawings and hanging them in the captain’s quarters. Lucanus putting the bubble back up around Gladeholm, and Moonshine sniffing out his magic. Moonshine making sure to help people because she doesn’t know how else to deal with everything. The apology tour by everyone who had attacked the Boobs while they were corrupted. Cobb’s apology.

Bev’s dad using Balnor as a speakerphone in the night to talk to Bev and bless his sword so he could smite with necrotic damage. Bev IV also taking time to heal Balnor while he was in there, making sure the resurrection aftermath was smoother for him. Calling Balnor Bev’s stepdad.

Moonshine and Meemaw heading back to the Crick. Seeing it can be beautiful even in the aftermath of a cataclysm. Finding the bullywugs in the GrandMaw Tree. “How long do half-elves live?” and the whole conversation that follows. “I guess, if I’m being honest, I just don’t know what it’s gonna be like to know Bahumia without Hardwon Surefoot. And there’s a part of me that doesn’t want to find out what that feels like.” Meemaw telling Moonshine to go catch nannerflies so she could zealous trance, allowing her to get a brief moment of childhood.

Jaina and Nerman trying to kidnap Hardwon for a party, and Hardwon resisting them too hard. McGannis naming him king for a day, and giving him a traditional dwarven send-off.

The Green Teens insisting on a jamboreen in a year. Deciding to go prank Denny. Failing horribly. The bullywug scuba suits as disguises. Nearly killing Denny by throwing him out a window.

Moonshine casting animal shapes on the whole party. All the dwarves wanting to be ducks. Jaina approaching Hardwon to make sure it was cool if she romanced Moonshine. The very suspicious way he said nothing was going on between them. “That’s one of the reasons why I fucking worship her”. Finally getting to have a moment himself with a suspiciously recognizable dwarf.

Luna finding Bev when she thought he was in trouble. Noting that Hardwon and Moonshine were “busy”. “Are they in danger?!?” “How old are you?”. Finding out where Thiala is headed.

Ending the night, all together again, in One Big Bed.

Moonshine waking up to cast spells on everyone. The send off they all tried to avoid. The smiles fading as soon as they were out of sight from the general population. Ready for war.

#naddpod episode tournament #naddpod #not another dnd podcast #bahumia #eldermourne

23 notes · View notes

lowlaif · 6 months

Text

Konpeito

never seen a star up close.

kinda wanna eat one.

and no, not one of those starlets hanging out in ridiculously overpriced LA villas - now finally available in "sustainable" minus an ecological footprint rivaling the size of their range rovers. the owner will fly in from two towns over so they get there early for their yearly yacht trip and ill activate adblock so palantir cant pester me with 50-euro airline ads to the maldives because shit, money is going to be a bit tight this month

i want to eat a star. actual heaps of gas and space dust and heat and whatdoiknow, im not a scientist, id rather not belie my words by googling the exact chemical configuration of something thats just bright and pacifying to me, something thatll melt on my tongue. 'm not even gonna chew. just gonna swallow it. the way i ate chocolate as a kid because relishing in something meant enough time for it to be taken away. the way i drink medicine because - if you gulp it down really quickly, it doesnt have time to taste bitter: anything can be honeyed milk if you clench your teeth hard enough

did you know thats what galaxy means anyway? milk? i wonder what galactical honey would be, then. whether id think its sweet or spicy, whether id like the taste or want to spit it out. if itd go down with well-rounded corners or lodge itself into my throat and stay there. fishbones. i also wonder whether astronauts ever feel scammed when they set foot on the ISS and realize theyre not going to bear witness to a sky made out of sparkling lights and silver threads and golden spots and rainbow clouds but rather just a sea so inky black it's going to make breathing difficult not just by lack of oxygen alone. earths much too reflective for any other luminescent object to be visible to the naked eye, ive been told, hence why youd just be looking at a planet so bright it surely hurts to stare at it, and i wonder what it feels like, being up there and gazing down only to be blinded when youre so used to looking up and squinting?

im homesick thinking of kids drawing earth into the upper right corner of their drawings. i dont actually know if theres stars up there though everybody tells me those pinprick lights are, and i cant breathe when im busy trying to figure out what exact level of depression the stale air around me tastes like. but something in my brain clicks when i think of shiny things and theres no empirical evidence that grabbing the sparkly stuff up above my head wont cure me so i want to, i want to, i want to. wanting always boils down to sinking your teeth into it and ive filed my canines far too often to fear the force of my bite now

people dance on the moon and i mimic their steps in my bedroom and though these are just small steps i dont know the names of the poor sods stuck on the ISS either, even though there's only been like 500 of them and they're all way better at living life than i am. my hands ghost over where i instinctively know the light switches of my flat are and wonder if up there somebody's got a nightlight, cheap plastic stars attached to their ceilings, one of those little projectors that put constellations on your walls. whether they ever have trouble sleeping and if yes, what the hell do they look up at then? who do they cast their wishes to?

never seen a star up close. never held one. but the concept is so familiar, so ingrained into whatever our shared consciousness is made out of, that i want with my molars. i itch to keep it in my tummy so it keeps me warm on the cold days and i only trust what i see so i want to look at it until my retinas burn, until the sound of the big bang echos in the confines of my brain. itll drown out all other unwanted thoughts and itll sing in the genetic make-up of my descendants long after my neighbours cant hear me sing in the shower anymore. ill cup my palms and pray into them. begging is easier when youre in position and im on my knees and i swear ill never run out of things to whisper to the radiant little ember in my hands because it is beautiful and because i like shiny things and because stars have always made us look up at them and

When I finally get my teeth on it and swallow it whole I'm sure a piece of the star will get lodged in my throat like. fishbones. in a last-ditch effort at vengeance. I'll spend the rest of my life attempting to choke it back up.

"I made it with love," I'll say after I finally managed to do so.

"Careful, it's hot."

#spilled ink #spilled thoughts #poetry #words #musings

7 notes · View notes

lovesosweeet · 6 months

Text

better left unsaid // cth

chapter fourteen

in which orion has leukemia, and calum doesn’t know.

calum hood x fem!oc

read other chapters

august 7, 2018 los angeles, california orion

One week since Calum left and I don't know how I can miss him more than I do right now. I know it's only going to get worse. Everything is only going to get worse.

I'm finally not feeling completely like death, but my second chemo appointment is today, so that'll be changing quite quickly.

Now that I've been to a chemo appointment, I know what to expect. Today, I pack my fluffy blanket that Crystal got me, my worn out copy of Catcher in the Rye, headphones, and a phone charger. I'm dressed in my only pair of joggers and a crop top with Cal's Real Madrid hoodie tied around my shoulders to wear inside the hospital. I make three coffees: one for me, one for Emelia, and one for Ron. I put mine in a spill proof bottle so I can put it in my bag and carry the other two.

I watch Emelia's location, waiting for the blue dot to get close enough to me that I can go downstairs and meet her out front when she pulls up. After giving Duke a kiss on the nose, I head out, taking the elevator down to the lobby and dropping Ron's coffee off at the desk. He's on the phone but he smiles gratefully and mouths 'thank you' while I keep walking past him, seeing Em's car right outside already.

Emelia fills me in on her morning. Her roommates have been slacking on their share of the dishes and she's been annoyed. It's typical stuff, and I feel like she always has the same gripes in her life. I'm somewhat jealous of the cyclical nature of her problems. Mine aren't even on the same road. I was jolted from a life of LSAT stress and classes to a life of IVs and sterile hospitals and a death sentence.

By now, she knows exactly how to get to the hospital and drops me off in front of the door.

"You're done at 3?" She asks, confirming when she'll come back.

"Yeah, 3, but I can wait a while if that's too early." Her shifts normally end right at 3, and I don't want her to leave work early to pick me up. I don't have anything else to do, so I can just wait until she's done with work.

She swats at the air to mean 'that's nothing' and I fight the urge to tell her to stay at work. "I'll be here at 3. I love you, let me know if you need anything."

She rolls up her window before I can say anything, so I turn around and enter the building. After checking in, they do another blood draw and take a handful of other vitals before I walk back into the room of armchairs. I don't get a welcome sign today, but there are cookies and juice again.

I sit in my chair and put on the hoodie I brought, throwing my blanket across my lap. I pull up my sleeve so they can put the IV in, and again, I can't look. I instead look to my left, just trying to find something else to focus on, and instantly regret it.

About six seats to my left — all of the ones in between are empty — is Macy. She's in a similar state, wearing a hoodie with sweatpants, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, and headphones in her ears. She's staring straight at me with her eyes wide, probably in disbelief. There's no getting out of having a conversation with her. She's seen me and she knows I've seen her.

I turn to stare straight ahead, accidentally meeting the gaze of the old man sitting across from me. I end up squeezing my eyes shut so I don't have to look at anything while they insert the IV. When I feel the nurse put the tape over it, I reopen my eyes and pull my sleeve back down.

"Is it okay if I move a few seats down?" I meekly ask her.

A brief moment of confusion flashes in her eyes, but she nods. "Yes, of course, do you need help?"

"No, I'm fine."

I stand up, clutching my blanket around my shoulders, slinging my tote bag onto my arm, and wheel the IV with me while I walk toward Macy. She smiles at me when I'm next to her, sitting in the chair directly next to hers.

"Hi," she says quietly.

"Hi."

I then realize I have no idea how to start the conversation or what to say. It seems that both of us have withheld some information, but the pieces of Macy's story start to fit together.

She's visiting her parents, who happen to have an apartment near UCLA's hospital.

She's taking a gap year, indefinitely.

She wants to be a doctor.

Macy has cancer, and I bet she's had it for a long time. I bet her parents don't live in this part of LA normally, they just stay here when she's in treatment. That's why she said they sort of live in the building, because they aren't full-time residents.

Macy has cancer.

The facts sink in and then I get more and more questions. Is it bad? Terminal? Has she been in treatment for long? Has she had it her whole life?

"I have leukemia," I say, breaking our silence. I'm quiet, nearly inaudible, but I have no doubts that she heard me.

"I'm so sorry," Macy whispers back, sounding devastated. "I had no idea."

I chuckle. "Yeah, I'm not really advertising it." I look over at her and she's nodding.

"I totally get it," she admits. Her face is somber and wistful, so thoughtful and hard to really pin how she's feeling. "I've been in and out of treatment since I was five."

When I open my mouth to tell her that I'm sorry and ask what kind of cancer it is, she cuts me off.

"I've gotten tired of the instant pity I get when I tell people I have cancer, so I just don't really tell people," Macy explains. "Eventually I do. I just don't want people to only be nice to me because I'm sick. I want them to be nice to me because they like me."

"I like you."

I understand what she means. It's the same way that Calum feels: people are nice to him just to get closer to fame, a good connection, a few thousand followers. They aren't nice to him because they like him. Of course, it's different for Macy. People aren't being nice to her because they want something from her. They're nice because they feel bad.

"You're like the nicest person on the planet, that doesn't count."

"I'm an average level of nice."

Macy laughs. It's a genuine laugh, which is a nice sound for the current setting. "Sure, if that's what you want to believe, but I disagree. You're truly the kindest person I know."

I don't want to sit here and argue with Macy about my level of niceness and kindness, so I decide we should drop it at that.

"Calum likes you too," I add.

She scoffs and then giggles again. "I'm sure you had nothing to do with that."

"He likes you! I promise!"

"I'm not doubting that, but I have no doubt you put in a very good word for me," she says. "But also, I love getting to know both of you, so I'm not complaining."

"I'm really glad we ran into you in that elevator," I confess. "I'm glad you're in our lives."

"See? Nicest person I know."

I go to punch her in the arm but am reminded that I'm tethered to the IV and there's a tube that moves along with my arm. It pulls me back to our reality, and I think it does Macy, too.

"How long have you been in treatment?" Macy asks.

"Today is my second one. First was last Wednesday."

Macy does a sharp intake of breath. "You had your first treatment and were still able to go get coffee with me on Sunday?!"

I nod.

"Dude, everyone I've ever seen go through this stuff is completely knocked off their feet by the first round. You're tough as shit."

Her words warm my heart and I'm grateful that she is able to see something good out of this hardship. Some days I feel strong, but mostly, I feel weak. Too weak to live my own life. Too weak to tell Calum the truth. Practically too weak to take care of Duke.

"I can't believe you started treatment right as they left for tour. Calum didn't want to stay with you?"

There it is. The part of the conversation I don't want to have.

"Um... he, uh, he... I — I didn't tell him."

Macy is quiet while she processes what I told her. I can tell she's shocked, and based on what I know about her, she would've normally yelled or screamed something, but because we're in a hall of people getting treatment, she holds it in.

"You suddenly make a lot less sense to me, but I'm not even sure what else to ask, so we can leave that there if you don't wanna talk about it."

Now I'm surprised. She's just able to drop it?

"Uh, are you sure?"

She smiles tightly. "I trust that you have some very thought out reasons for making the choices you do."

"So you won't tell him?"

Macy shakes her head. "That's not my place."

read next chapter

a/n: oooooo macy!! surprise!!! in the original of this story her name was callie and idk why i did that bc CAL and CALLIE is too much. they met on the oncology ward in the OG but i liked this idea better for some reason haha.

i know this is a cal fic and there's no cal in this chapter lol it's FiNE itS FOR The PLOT OKAY

that said i am working on a new chapter that has calum in it n it's a flashback hopefully coming to you in a few hours OK THX love u bye

#5sos #luke hemmings #5 seconds of summer #calum hood #ashton irwin #fanfiction #fanfic #5sosfam #5sos fanfic #calum imagine #michael clifford #better left unsaid

12 notes · View notes

enchantingkryptoniteheart-blog · 1 year

Text

The Best of Intentions

-Chapter 3-

Dis was surprised to find her brother sitting in a chair in the corner of the room of the dwarrowdam's room. She had practically shoved him into his room in the early hours of that morning. His elbows rested on his knees as he leaned forward, his eyes firmly fixed on the their unconscious guest, his face slightly contorted in what seemed to be a blend of confusion and discomfort.

“Brother. You should be resting." She admonished softly as she stood beside him, startling him back to reality.

He grunted and rubbed his face wearily. "I couldn't sleep."

She frowned in concern. "Something disturbs you … about her?"

“It's hard to explain Dis."

“You can't seem to keep your eyes off her." She tried to not sound like she was accusing him. She couldn't help but wince at her tone. "I heard she held a knife to your throat."

“She was badly injured and confused. She was just trying to defend herself." Came his quick response. "She didn't hurt me … obviously."

She followed his gaze to her face. She was strikingly beautiful and ethereal. Her skin was extremely pale against the mottled purple and green bruising that was scattered about her diamond shaped face and neck. Her hair was the color of the palest gold, glowing faintly in the light of the fireplace. It was long and thick, curly and wild against the pillowcase and bedding, surrounding her head like a halo. Her lips were full and bow shaped, their shade hard to determine due to the cuts that spit both her upper and lower lip.

“Ive never seen a dwarrowdam of her coloring, or of the features she bares." Dis thought aloud, trying to draw her brother out. She had never seen him act like this before. It was unsettling, feeling the nervous energy emanating from him.

“Dis…" he started, but his voice failed him, as if he was struggling to find the right words to say. She knelt next to her brother, grabbed his hand and looked up at him encouragingly.

Thorin looked at his sisters hand that was firmly clasped in his. He breathed in deeply and managed to look her in the eyes. They were tumultuous with an emotion she rarely saw.  "I felt the pull Dis. When I looked into her eyes. Just like Amad described when she met Adad." His voice was low and gravelly. "I've never felt this before, with anyone."

Her eyes widened. "Are you certain?" She breathed. Thorin sighed and nodded. His whole demeanor exhausted and defeated. "Yes. Unfortunately."

Dis scoffed, despite the situation she wanted to smack him. "Unfortunate? You stubborn ass, if you truly felt the pull then that means she's…" "Don't." He ground out, suddenly standing up feeling the need for distance.

“Thorin, you can't avoid this. If she truly is, you will need to face it."

“Not a word to anyone." He hissed, his anger scantily covering the cold dread that had been slowly filling him the moment his eyes locked on hers. "Until we know more about her, you are the only one trusted with this. Not even Balin or Dwalin are to know."

Dis stood slowly to face her brother. "You have my word." She reached out and put a comforting hand on his harm. "We can't assume the worst without knowing more. Don't overwhelm yourself with burdens that do not yet exist."

 00000000

 The strong scent of wintergreen and lavender overwhelmed her groggy senses as she slowly came to. She blinked, willing her sight to focus as she gingerly tested her sore limbs. She hissed as she pulled herself up against the headboard of the small bed. Her ribs were definitely bruised. Her right shoulder throbbed dully. "Great." She huffed in exasperation.

This wouldn't do. She can't stay in this weakened state. She scanned the room quickly as she pulled the covers up and swung her legs over the side. The walls were a dark green stone, marbled with veins of black and white. She cursed to herself when she realized there were no windows. Breathing in, she pushed herself up onto her wobbly legs. She pushed herself through the initial pain, breathing steadily as she willed her body to cooperate. Gradually the pain subsided enough for her to move about tenderly.

She found her clothes folded nearby on a table with her leather and fur boots resting at the foot of her bed. Her armor and weapons were nowhere to be seen. She groaned. "Figures."

She dressed quickly, ignoring the protests of her body. She had to get out of here, wherever here was. She silently approached her door and leaned her ears against it, and only silence greeted her. She gently tested the doorhandles, and silently praised Aule that the door was unlocked. She opened it slowly just enough for her to peer out. Facing away from her stood two dwarves, bent over a table examining something while talking in hushed voices. One was obviously older, his hair pure white and spectacles perched on his nose. His companion was younger, with thick golden hair. He had many warrior braids weaved throughout, and the way he held his shoulders back spoke volumes of his strength.

“I can take two of them." She thought to herself as she quickly formulated a plan of escape. Her eyes fell on a tray close to where her door was, and on its surface were several knifes of various sizes. Her eyes narrowed in determination. Perfect. Subdue the younger, stronger one and use him as leverage against the older one. She would lock them in her room. She silently opened the door enough to squeeze by and sneak towards the knives. She managed to grab the biggest one without a sound and situated it perfectly for the task at hand.

Fili and Oin were lost in their conversation, not suspecting for one moment their guest would be of the mind that she had to escape. They were looking at a map of Middle Earth, quietly talking about the Northern Wastes and possibilities of a Dwarven kingdom thriving without the rest of all dwarven kingdoms knowing. Fili was listening to Oin intently when he suddenly felt a cold thin object against his throat. He watched Oin's eyes widen in horror.  "Easy Lass! Put the knife down now!" Oin pleaded as he watched the female dwarf hold the knife to the prince's throat in fierce determination as she quickly relieved him of the daggers that he had sheathed in his belt.

“Quiet. Do as I ask and no harm will befall you." Her voice was calm as she finished tossing the daggers away from them, then grabbed Fili's shoulder to direct him firmly.

“Into the room I was in. Now." She ordered, gesturing her head towards the room. Oin held his hands up and slowly started walking towards the room. "Lass, our king saved you from the orcs. We mean you no harm." He pleaded.

“I can't take that chance. I don't even know what kingdom this is." She growled.

“You are in Erebor." Fili managed to grit out, angry at himself for being caught unaware. By a female no less. He didn't want to try to overpower her, in fear of hurting her further. "If we had meant you harm you would of woken up in the dungeons not the infirmary."

“Long Beards? Ruled by a Durinson? I can't trust any of you." She spat, her eyes flashing. "Get in the room now!"

Oin quickly stepped into the room, frantically trying to think of a plan to rescue Fili. She brought the prince right to the door jam. "No hard feelings my good dwarrows. I'll take my leave of you now." With surprising quickness she removed the knife from the princes throat and shoved him forcefully into the room, making him stumble into Oin and onto the ground in a heap.

She slammed the door and quickly locked it with the key that had been hanging by the door on the wall, and rushed back towards the daggers she had pulled from her captive. She quickly heard pounding on the door and faint yelling. She smirked, knowing no one outside of the empty infirmary was going to hear them. By the time they did she would be long gone. She scoured the room looking for any of her weapons or armor, only to discover they were not in this room either. She cursed her bad luck. She would just have to make due with what she had, although she was grateful for her leather corset that she had cinched tightly over her white long sleeved. It provided her bruised and battered torso with much needed support.

She opened the main door to the infirmary and peeked out, relieved to find that no one was out. "Now to find my way out, and find Luna." She laid out her goals in her mind. This was going to take all of her stealth training, sneaking out of the Lonely Mountain. She quickly dashed into the shadows along the wall and started walking away from the infirmary and the distant pounding of the door. She heard multiple heavy footsteps ahead and she quickly ducked into an alcove that was ahead of her and watched in dismay as a group of very intimidating dwarves entered the hall, walking with purpose towards the infirmary.

The leader of the group looked familiar; he was very tall and proud both in stance and bearing with curly raven black hair. His face was stoic, jaw firmly set in determination as he listened to the elderly dwarf that kept pace with him with an undivided attention. He was flanked by another tall dwarf who was partially bald, the Khuzdul runes reserved for the greatest warriors tattooed proudly on his scalp. He was heavily armed, his fierce eyes partially hid by bushy eyebrows set in a furrowed brow. A younger version of the leader walked alongside the warrior, armed with a similar dagger to the one she now had possession of. Two guards came to a stop at the end of the adjoining hall that the group had come from and stood at attention, effectively cutting off her clean getaway.

She grit her teeth as she pressed herself closer to the stone wall. "Now what?" She growled to herself. "Wait … Do you hear that?" The young dark dwarf stopped the group, drawing their attention from the hushed conversation to the faint sound of pounding.

“Its coming from the infirmary!" The leader exclaimed as he broke out into a run.

The sound of his voice made a shiver run down her spine. She recognized that voice. He was the one who she had held at knifepoint that night they saved her from the orcs. The bitter taste of doubt and regret overwhelmed her at the realization. Her heart was now beating rapidly. She was on the verge of being recaptured.

“Too late to turn back now." She scolded herself mentally. "Got to get out of here now."  She heard shouts coming from the infirmary. Her captives had been released. "Curse it all." She seethed. She started to slink alongside the wall, hoping the guards would leave their post at the sound of the shouting.

“She can't of gotten far!" Her heart seized in her chest, It was now or never. She had to make a break for it! The guards looked towards their king, and she took advantage of their distraction. It wasn't a matter of being seen now, but of speed. She bolted from her hiding spot and sprinted towards the hall.

“There she is! Wait!"

She didn't wait. Ignoring the pain that was searing up her torso she sprinted down the hall, past the surprised guards and towards the light leading her way out. Her blood was pounding in her ears as she ran, muffling the sounds of the heavy footsteps and shouts that thundered down from behind her. She focused on the feeling of her legs and feet as she ran as fast as she could, schooling her breathing to give her the very will to help her escape.

“How is the lass even runnin?!" Dwalin thundered incredulously as they pursued her.

Thorin was just as shocked. Just this morning she was unconscious and pale, seemingly helpless in the bed from her wounds. And now she was flying down the hall, her hair streaming behind her. "We have to cut her off! Balin! Have the front gates shut! No one enters! No one leaves!"

“It will be done!" Balin broke off from the group and ran as quick as he could towards a shortcut that would take him to the front gate.

As she neared the end of the hall, she realized that she was approaching the main cavern of the mountain kingdom. The main gate was to her right, and several stories down. She was on one of the higher levels that oversaw the entire market that stretched as far as she could see. Impressive stone bridges criss crossed above and below her, and large banners of dark blue velvet displaying the emblem of Durin's crown hung, gently waving in the slight breeze blowing in from the main gate.

She was breathing heavy, determined to not let panic seize her. The market was teeming with dwarves, men and elves alike. If she took the stairs she would be caught for sure.

She looked at the banner that was hanging from the pillar in front of the landing she was trapped on and her eyes followed it down. Within jumping distance, it would take her down to the main level. She would have to jump down onto a roof of a small shop, but it would be better than breaking her leg on a sheer drop onto the stone floor.

It was her only option.

She pulled out the confiscated daggers and gripped them tightly as she looked back at her pursuers briefly before her eyes narrowed in determination, and then turning and jumping onto the landing rail and launching herself towards the banners, daggers outstretched.

“NO! STOP!" She heard a terrified shout boom and echo around her.

0000000

Thorin could of sworn that his heart had stopped cold in his chest when he watched his One throw herself off the landing into the air. He didn't even remember screaming for her stop. He didn't pay attention to the horrified shouts from his nephews and friends as skidded up to the railing and dared to look down.

He was stunned to see her sliding down the banners, with Fili's daggers slicing through thick velvet with ease.

“What in Mahal's name!" Oin exclaimed as they all watched in shock.

“There is no way I am following her!" Kili stammered as they watched her descent.

Startled screams and shouts started to echo throughout the market as onlookers watched the bizarre scene unfold before them.

She should of known that the daggers were sharp, thus her rapid descent down the banners were a little too quick for her liking. Before she knew it she had sliced completely down the banners and was now free falling down towards a small shop roof. She landed on her feet, but the old shop collapsed on impact and she found herself laying in a ruined heap of old wood and shattered shingles.

Thankfully she had fallen on a shop filled with rugs, her fall somewhat padded although her body seized in pain with the shock of the fall, the air completely knocked out her lungs.

She groaned as she tried to push herself up. "Can't stop now you dolt." She chastised herself mentally.

Screams and shouts thundered in the enormous cavern around her as all chaos broke loose. She gasped desperately for air, her body fighting to obey her command to get up and run.

Thorin, Dwalin, Fili and Kili practically slid down the stairs. He heard the the shouts of his guards over the panic of the market and the resounding 'BANG' of the gates closing off the outside world.

“She's here somewhere!" He shouted over the din to his nephews and Dwalin. "Fan out and spread the word!"

Bofur and Bifur ran out of their toyshop into the pandemonium of the market. Bifur grunted and signed to his brother, confused and worried.

"I don't know! Lets find the rest of the company!" He shouted.

“Bofur! Bifur! We need you!" Fili ran up to his friends, still trying to regain his breath.

“What is going on?" Bofur took in the prince's bedraggled appearance with concern.

Thorin came running through the crowd that had begun to gather around the collapsed rug shop.

“That lass uncle rescued? She escaped, held me a knifepoint!" Explained quickly as he grabbed his friend's arms. "We are trying to catch her."

It was then that they heard gasps and cries ahead of them, and a dusty, rumpled figure stumbled out of the ruins of the rug shop. Thorin's stormy blue eyes met her turbulent green ones for a split second before she turned and ran away from him.

The dwarf King growled in a renewed fury as he took after her. "Halt! I command you to halt!" He yelled as he weaved in and out of his confused and scared subjects.  "Try to cut her off!" He yelled as they started to gain on her.

He still couldn't believe she was still running at the capacity she was, he wasn't even injured and at the peak of physical fitness and he was starting to struggle with keeping up with her pace.

"How is she still running?! Dwarrowdams can't run like this?!" Kili panted as he fought to push himself faster.

What did you lot do!?" Bofur yelled, still confused about what was happening. Just minutes before he had been working on some of his new toy designs, and now they were chasing this poor female through a crowded market as if she was a wanted fugitive.

How is she still running?! Dwarrowdams can't run like this?!" Kili panted as he fought to push himself faster.  "What did you lot do!?" Bofur yelled, still confused about what was happening. Just minutes before he had been working on some of his new toy designs, and now they were chasing this poor female through a crowded market as if she was a wanted fugitive.

“We did nothing!" Fili panted in exasperation.  "Hogs Spit! No lass runs like this for no reason!" Bofur tossed back.

A growl ripped out of Thorin's chest as he pushed himself further, faster, desperate to just make her stop running. He slowly started to gain on her as they began to reach the end of the market and towards the depths of the mountain.

Ahead of them, he saw a line of guards run across and block the way with their massive axes. His relief disappeared as quickly as it appeared as he watched in disbelief as she ran towards the stone wall and picked up speed. Right before she was about to crash into the guard she jumped and ran up the wall with an unbelievable ease, up and over his head to land gracefully on the ground behind the shocked dwarf guards.

As she turned to dart off again, a blur of red hair tackled her to the ground with a loud thud. Tauriel; who had been residing within Erebor as Mirkwood's Emissary, had tackled and pinned the breathless dwarrowdam to the ground with relative ease.

“Oh thank Mahal." Kili heaved as he came to a stop.

Thorin slid to a stop directly in front of the Tauriel and her gasping captive. "Heavens. Above. Woman…" Thorin growled as he breathed heavily, his face dark with anger. "Why. Did. You. Run!?"

Her eyes bore defiantly into his as she struggled to catch her breath. Her nostrils flared in barely contained anger as her body shook with the exertion of her poorly planned and failed escape.

They held each others glares for several moments as everyone around them attempted to catch their breath. "Nothing?" Thorin pressed, his icy tone seemingly making her more defiant.

“Fine." He growled, he gestured for his guards to step forward. "Bind her and bring her to the throne room."

“It shall be done your majesty." Came his guards terse reply.

#erebor #hobbit thorin oakenshield #balin #hobbit thorin oakenshield x oc fanfiction #fili durin #kili durin #thorin and company #thorin durin #thorin fanfiction #thorin oakenshield #alternate ending #hobbit fanfic #dwalin #the hobbit bofur #creative writing #thorin son of thrain #thorin oakenshield x oc #king thorin #thorin

18 notes · View notes

hermanunworthy · 10 months

Text

!DNDADS S2 EP37 SPOILERS!

im a bit late bc i was at work all day but time for ep37 reactions!! i cant believe its already here

- now ive heard everyone talking about the intro i bet its gonna be a rickroll or some shit

- ITS FUCKINF ALL STAR. I KNEW THEY WOULD PULL SOMETHING LIKE THIS

- A TEENAGE GIRLS PARENT JUST GOT SHOT AND KILLED AND UR PLAYING ALL STAR.

- hermie mention in the intro im so calm and cool and chill about this /j

- "ur enough as u are" AINT NO WAY UR ABOUT TO MAKE ME START CRYING OVER A PARODY OF SMASH MOUTHS ALL STAR. WHY DID U HAVE TO PULL OUT THE BIG GUNS

- I DONT WANT THE TAYLOR VOICE CHANGE GOD NO

- MATT IM SCREAMING

- WILL CAMPOS U ABSOLUTE MADMAN. i already knew he was gonna find a way around using revivify but THAT WAS WILD

- are people gonna start drawing normal w that piece of jewelry now. bc i wanna. i already like drawing him w bracelets

- oh god what is beths fact gonna be.

- "i just keep meeting all the right people at all the wrong times" BETH MAY U ARE EVIL. THE PLOT OF THIS EPISODE HASNT EVEN STARTED AND IM ALREADY EMO

- ITS STARTING. OH NO

- NICKY BETTER FUCKING SHOW UP im curious to see what they actually decided on for the reason for him not being there last episode

- HERMIE WAS REMEMBERED giggles and kicks my feet

- TAYLOR AND LINCOLN ARENT AWARE THAT TERRY IS DEAD RN.

- were getting terris reaction rn i cant believe this is happening

- IM starting to feel sick godddd

- i bet im gonna see art of the lincoln and taylor piggyback ride hehe

- OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD TERRIS ASLEEP THIS MEANS WERE GONNA GET SCARY BACK. ALSO IS SHE GONNA SEE WILLY OH NOOOO

- NO NO NO NO NONONO

- "theres my girl" STFUUUUUU

- DOES SCARY REMEMBER ANYTHING??? DOES SHE KNOW WHATS GOING ON????

- "just wake him up" I. HATE. THIS EPSIODE

- SCARY GETTING CHOKED UP I CANT DO THIS

- TERRY DIDNT EVEN NEED TO DIE FUCK THIS

- "whoooa shit thats fucked up!" anthony burch i know u are just so incredibly pleased w urself.

- SCARYS STILL PRETENDING LIKE SHE DOESNT CARE ABOUT TERRY. JUST FEEL UR FEELINGS GIRL GOOD GOD

- "EMBARRASSING"??? FOR A KID TO BE UPSET THAT ONE OF THEIR PARENTS GOT MURDERED???? WILLY STAMPLER WTF IS WRONG W U

- there was never a more obvious lie than willy saying hell revive terry

- 19 INSIGHT LETS GOOO

- THATS RIGHT SCARY. STAND THE FUCK UP TO HIM

- NORMAL DESPERATELY TRYING TO HELP AWWWW MAN :[[ I HATE THIS

- PUTS MY HEAD IN MY HANDS. THIS IS SO DEEPLY UPSETTING

- WHEN WE SAID WE WANTED MORE SCARY AND NORMAL INTERACTIONS WE DIDNT THINK ITD BE LIKE THIS!!!

- THE TWINS ARE HERE NOW OMG

- beth is out for fucking blood this episode. god she is so good at making the audience feel for her characters

- SHES TELEPORTING TO GRANT?? IM NOT READY YET

- "hes dangerous! get away from him!" THE FACT THAT THIS IS LINCOLN SAYING THIS ABOUT GRANT BREAKS MY HEART

- SCARY HAS A GUN FUCK YEAH!!!

- FIRST HERMIE SPEAKING LINE OF THE EPISODE YIPPEEEE

- halfway through the episode now. cant wait to see what could possibly go wrong next!!

- i love whenever anthony allows a fun rulebreaking idea to work

- IDK WHY THE IDEA OF THE KIDDADS HAVING A GC IS SO FUNNY TO ME

- rons status remains a mystery....

- "we could do a whole scene w just hermie and all the other ones" u joke matt but i enjoy every scene w hermie no matter how unnecessary and drawn out

- as always linc and taylor are such a funny iconic duo

- WERE FINALLY GETTING ANGRY NORMAL??? FINALLY????

- WILL WITHDRAWING HIS COOL MOVE LMAO

- i just realized WE STILL HAVENT SEEN NICKY!!! GODDAMN!!!

- "the gayest fucking mecha of all time" swiftli fans do u like the new ship name /j

- ig i cannot deny it anymore swiftli is practically canon atp

- NICKY!!!! NICKY!!!!! I SHOT STRAIGHT UP IN MY SEAT

- NICKY AND HERMIE ARE FINALLY INTERACTING. PRAISE THE LORD

- i thought nicky got all his limbs back?? did anthony just forget

- btw ive probably been waking up my whole house w how hard im laughing over swiftli this episode

- LINCOLNS GONNA PUNCH GRANT WHOA. WHOA

- "so what are u gonna do, ur gonna kill me?" as i said before. i hate this episode.

- SCARY OBLITERATED PAPA JOHN SO FAST WHOA.

- THE DUNGEON SETUP VS THE TONE OF THE EPISODE HELPPP

- i just had such a weird thought/prediction. but i will hold my tongue. bc the last time i said something like this it came true and i do not want this to come true

- IS SCARY GONNA BREAK IT W LOVE FOR TERRY. I CANT DO THIS

- "i love u and i hate that u made me love u when u are who u are and u knew it." I WISH U COULD SEE MY FUCKING FACE RN. HOLYYY SHIT THATS DEVASTATING

- oh. my. good. lord.

- GUYS????? I DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT TO DO NOW. HOLY FUCK. THAT WAS HEAVY AS SHIT

#dndads #dndads spoilers #dndads s2 spoilers #siren says

14 notes · View notes

criticallyacclaimedstranger · 1 year

Text

Fic: Misty, chapter vi

Read on Ao3

Rating: Explicit (whole thing)

Fandom: Prospect

Pairing: Snowman!Ezra x f!reader (monsterfucker au)

Tags: it’s basically monster fucking but with a snowman which could technically be classified as a monster i guess?, gothic horror kind of, sorrow, dementia, anxiety, dog murder, masturbation, Frankie thirst, pet murder, racism mention, huge age gap, implied possible sexual abuse of minor, spookiness, PiV sex with an actual snowman, possible hallucinations.

Chapter warnings in addition to the above mentioned: Hypothermia, Frankie yearning, the spookiness continues.

Summary: Escaping your empty apartment after having been dumped by your fiancé, you rent a cottage at Oakgrove House over Christmas to nurse your wounds. But strange things seem to happen at the estate, where an old woman wanders around in search of old friends long gone, and snowmen appear as if by themselves on the lawn…

Chapter word count: 2,426

A/N: The poem quoted in this chapter is The Garden by Ezra Pound. I noticed that the chapter links were a little out of sorts on the earlier posts + masterlist: sorry about that! I've fixed them now.

Tagging: @harriedandharassedsed @paulalikestuff @pazizz @lovesbiggerthanpride (let me know if you want in)

Your name, carefully called at first, then with rising alarm, and finally spoken with urgency, draws you out of sleep. Warm, rough palms cover your cheek, forehead, neck, before the itchy-soft wool of a heavy blanket is drawn over you.

You move slowly, sleep still threatening to pull you under. The first thing that you notice is that it's wet and cold around and on you. Your muscles seem frozen stiff and protest when you try to sit up, your eyelids are glued shut. With great difficulty, you raise your hand to your face and rub at your eyes.

"Talk to me," you hear a low voice next to you. "Are you okay?"

Forcing your eyes open, you see a blurry figure in front of you. Blinking until it takes shape and becomes clear, you find that it's Frankie. He's watching you closely, his features painted with concern and purpose.

"Can you hear me?"

"Yes," you croak, and he seems to relax a smidge. You become aware of the surroundings: you're in the bedroom, the window is open, letting in snow that then melts on the floor below it. You're naked under the blanket that Frankie covered you with, and you're shivering.

"What happened? The cottage is cold all through."

You don't know what to say to that as you wrap the blanket around you. Hoping to gain some heat, you lose yourself in Frankie's warm, brown eyes. He gets up from the bedside and closes the window, the melted snow splish-splashing under his boots.

"I'm calling an ambulance," he tells you, and those words breathe life in you.

"No!" The volume of your voice startles both of you. "No, I'm f-fine, I don't need the hospital, I j-just need a hot shower and warm clothes."

You cast your eyes down, now embarrassed about your nudity.

"I can't leave you like this," Frankie shakes his head.

"What are you even d-doing here?" you question him, realizing how inappropriate this is. Frankie looks at you like he's not sure what to make of your question.

"I was clearing snow when I saw that the front door was wide open, as was the upstairs bedroom window," he tells you. "It didn't seem right, so I checked it out."

He sits down on the bedside again, chocolate eyes pinning you to the wall.

"What were you doing?"

You're squirming mentally, even if your body is trembling too much for you to physically try to avoid his gaze.

"I must have sleepwalked."

He's not convinced, you can tell, but he helps you up and sends you into the shower.

Confused and disoriented, you stand under the hot spray of water and try to put your thoughts together, understand what is going on. The previous night is vividly remembered in your skin, between your legs, but faint and foggy in your mind. Every inch of you burns with the cold touch of the snowman, of Ezra, but your brain scrambles to reconstruct the unusual tryst. Unable to make any sense of it, you stand in the shower until the water turns cold and you yelp loudly.

Frankie's voice is immediately heard on the other side of the door.

"You okay in there?"

"I'm fine."

You step out and dry yourself before putting on the clothes you brought in with you. A towel turban on your head, you open the door and see Frankie outside. The chill outside the bathroom hits you in the face and makes you shiver immediately. Chills are blooming in your body and you suddenly feel like you're running a fever. Frankie gives you a sceptical look before gestures towards the door.

"I'm taking you to the house," he tells you. You look up at him, alarmed.

"No! It's Christmas, why the hell would I go there and be in their way?"

"I'm not leaving you alone here and I have a job to do and a family to get back to," he tells you a little tartly. There's something in his voice that suggests that he's used to giving as well as receiving brief, to-the-point commands. "Besides, it's going to be a few hours before the whole place is heated again, and you need to stay warm."

Your cheeks are bright red when you sullenly go downstairs with him, sock-wearing feet trying to avoid the wet spots on the stairs. You're starting to feel more awake and with that, less confused but increasingly unwell. Your head is pounding, your cheeks are flushed yet you're freezing. When you bend down to pull on your boots, up changes places with down and you almost fall over. Frankie has you immediately and steers you onto the little bench in the entry. Exhausted, you flop down as gracefully as you can.

"You should go to the hospital," he reminds you grimly, but you shake your head again. He helps you with your boots and offers you his hand when you stand up. Eventually, you're dressed and on your way to the main house.

Denise is the one opening the door and having been explained the situation, she immediately takes you in and has you wrapped in blankets on the couch in the main living-room, where a fire is roaring in the fireplace, and Christmas presents have been opened. Ripped pieces of wrapping paper lie scattered along with bows and strings around the perfectly dark green and fragrant tree, lit by tasteful light strings and decked with silver baubles. Homemade ornaments, clearly made by children, hang on the lower branches where probably the same children have been able to reach.

"It's a bit of a mess in here," Denise apologizes, "but we're just about to have breakfast so it'll be quiet. And it's the warmest room in the house."

“I’m fine, really,” you still maintain, but let yourself sink against the soft cushions. It’s nice to be looked after. Maybe this is what you wanted all along when your asshole ex left you: to be coddled and cared for but without the pity exhibited by everyone who knew you. These people know nothing.

You doze off but stay in the strange liminal space of wakeful dreaming. Your eyes rest on a series of portraits on the wall with the William Morris wallpaper. They are four, all of them depicting a person, two of them women and two of them men. The women bear a clear resemblance to Denise and her daughter Anna, whom you met during your walk the other day. You realize that it must be Olga and her mother. The other two are probably Olga’s father and brother, given the similarities between them. Your eyes narrow as you try to focus your gaze on Olga’s portrait. She looks young but you can’t guess on an age. Teenagers looked so old in the 1950’s, dressed as they were in the same fashion as their mothers, hair done in the same way. Anything from 15 to 22, given the childish air of naivety but heavy, weary eyes.

This is after the Ezra scandal, you realize. What secrets is she carrying behind those eyes that seem to be older than her years?

The door to the living-room opens, and Denise comes in, carrying a tray. She walks on soft feet but when she sees that you are awake, she comes up to the couch.

“Wasn’t sure you were awake. I hope we haven’t disturbed you.”

“Oh no, I haven’t heard anything,” you reassure her as you sit up and accept the tray. “Thank you so much, you didn’t have to go through the trouble.”

“No trouble at all. I hope you don’t mind tea? We’re a family of tea drinkers, and there’s nothing like some really strong, sweet tea when you’ve had a bit of a shock. But I can make some coffee too, if you prefer that.”

You shake your head. “Tea is perfect, thank you.”

There is toast and jam on a little vintage plate, and a couple of Christmas cookies, and Denise offers to bring you bacon and eggs.

“Wasn’t sure if you’re a vegetarian.”

“I’m not, but this is enough, thank you.”

You take a sip of the tea and although you don’t know much about different kinds of tea, you can tell this is a good, black one. The honey takes the edge of its astringency and makes you feel invigorated.

“It’s really good,” you assure Denise, who smiles a little.

“I’ll let you eat.” She walks up to the fireplace and puts another log on the fire. “Take your time, and have a nap after. Frankie is warming up the cabin and we’re going out as soon as we’ve eaten. You won’t be distubed.”

Once again you express your gratitude, and once again Denise tells you that it’s quite allright.

“You should be thanking Frankie, really,” she muses. “We’re so happy to have him. He works hard and is very detail-oriented. He immediately notices when something doesn’t seem right. If he hadn’t, who knows how this would’ve ended.”

She shrugs. “I guess it’s his training.”

“What training is that?” you ask, a little chill running down your spine at the thought of what could have happened.

“He was in the military,” Denise discloses. “Some kind of special ops, I think.”

“Really?” you gape at her. “He… doesn’t seem the type.”

“That’s what I thought,” the slightly older woman agrees. “But he retired, got married, had a baby. They live nearby, the kid’s a couple of years old now, I think. Really cute family. Always nice when somebody makes it, isn’t it?”

You don’t reply to that but cast your eyes down as you sip some more tea. A crash and a wail are heard from outside the door, and Denise sighs.

“Speaking of families… I have three kids, two of them are already here, they have five between them. My other daughter is on her way with her family, that’s four more kids. Yikes.”

“Big family,” you smile politely, unsure of your feelings about it.

“Yeah. Mom always wanted a big family but I guess it skips a generation. Or two. I’m an only child.”

“Is that her in that picture?” you ask, nodding to the wall of portraits. Denise nods.

“And her parents, and brother.”

“Did he have a big family?”

Something in Denise’s face changes, closes. You realize that you’ve overstepped.

“No,” she answers curtly. “He died young.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It was before my time. I have to go now, help with the children.”

With brisk steps, Denise leaves you to your breakfast. The chaotic sounds of family life spill in through the door as she opens it, but are muffled just as quickly as she closes it behind her. You close your fingers around the mug of tea, warming your hands as you listen to the sounds of children being ushered away through the halls of the big house. When the noises disappear somewhere further into the house or maybe outside of it, you eat the toast and finish the tea. Despite the caffeine, the tea makes you drowsy, so you put the tray away and slide back down under the blankets. Your eyes close before you’ve even settled.

You dream of a blooming garden in the height of summer. The fragrances of flowers fill the air, the sun is warm on your skin, the grass soft under your bare feet. You see a young woman sit in the shade of a vine-covered arch. Butterflies flutter lazily around her as she reads out loud from a book:

Like a skein of loose silk blown against a wall

She walks by the railing of a path in Kensington Gardens,

And she is dying piece-meal

of a sort of emotional anemia.

And round about there is a rabble

Of the filthy, sturdy, unkillable infants of the very poor.

They shall inherit the earth.

In her is the end of breeding.

Her boredom is exquisite and excessive.

She would like some one to speak to her,

And is almost afraid that I

will commit that indiscretion.

When you come closer, you realize that she’s not alone: there is someone sitting on the other side of the arch. Instead of walking straight towards her, you instead veer to the right and circle around the perfect tableau.

On the other side of the arch sits Ezra, and he is looking straight at you.

Snow begins to fall as he rises and starts to walk towards you.

You jerk awake. Your mouth is dry and for a moment you’re completely disoriented, not knowing where you are or how you got there. The fire has died down and the lack of sunlight from the high windows renders the room gloomy despite the lit, cheerful Christmas tree.

“He came to you, didn’t he?”

Your heart gets caught in your throat and panic rises in you before you realize that it’s Olga’s voice you’re hearing. She sits in one of the armchairs across the coffee table, watching you intently. Slowly, you sit up, trying to find words.

“Ezra came to you,” Olga repeats matter-of-factly, like she knew it would happen and has made peace with it. “I knew he would.”

“How?” You want to know so many things, but figure this is a good start.

“Because he said he would.” The old woman is looking at you as if you were simple-minded. “He promised me he’d be back for Christmas. We would build a snowman together, just like we did that time, and we would fill the house with children.”

“What happened?” you breathe, as if afraid to break some kind of spell if you spoke with your normal volume. Olga lifts her chin and turns her gaze to the wall with the portraits. When you do the same, you find that all the portraits have changed: the parents have turned their faces away, young Olga’s eyes are filled with tears that glitter their way down her pale cheeks, and her brother’s features are distorted in hatred.

“He did.” Olga’s voice is but a whisper and there is something so tragic about it that it brings tears to your eyes. You raise your hands and wipe them, sniffle a little, and when you look at Olga again, she’s no longer in the armchair, but shuffling along the wide, old floorboards to the door. She leaves it open as she walks on, into the past or the present you don’t know, but after a moment, you get up from the couch, and follow her.

#prospect fanfic #ezra prospect #ezra fanfic #ezra x reader #ezra au #frankie morales #my fic

23 notes · View notes