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amaranthineghost · 5 months

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hello!! can u write something where the reader is feeling a little down while he was away because she misses him and lando reassures her and comforts her

thank u 🩷🫶🏼

| DARLING, THE BED IS COLDER WITHOUT YOU ( lando norris. ) |

ꕥ pairing: lando x reader

ꕥ summary: she feels lonely without the company of lando.

ꕥ authors note: first, thanks so much for 200 followers! it means so much to have this much support on my writing and that so many people like my work! second, thanks so much for this request! I loved writing it and I thought it was so cute <3

SHE WAS LONELY. she often was when her beloved boyfriend traveled the world to race fast cars. it caused her worry not to be there in person, having to watch his car from the television screen in the comfort of their apartment. she wouldn't complain, she was taken care of by him. she'd never lift a finger or have to reach into her pocket.

though her days and nights filled with stoic boredom around the apartment they shared. most of her days spent on the floor on his closet, basking in the faded smell of his presence, lack of more like.

she'd lay on the floor against the pile of clothes he'd promised her he'd put away, but never got around to it. it made her smile when she thought of it when she'd pressed her face against the different materials of his clothes, the smell of detergent now faded, coming to smell like her instead.

she would try to spray his cologne, a bottle he bought just for when she missed him, but it wasn't the same. it wouldn't be. she knew, but it was the closest thing she had till he got back. when he would get back.

other than his closet, in his clothes, she would find herself in bed. his side of the bed that stayed prim and even till she ruined it. it felt weird to be on his side, met with nothing but chills. it was colder without him. her side became empty without her, but his side wasn't any better.

she'd wake up to the cold, still air, basking in the warmth of the sunlight that spilled through the curtains just right. if he was here, it would've hit his green eyes in the perfect position. it was her favorite thing about mornings.

that and when she'd wake up with his arm across her back despite how far she'd part during the night. when he'd wake, his hand stretched past her side, wrapping under her waist to pull her into his chest. he always did it.

she struggled to wake now. when he would get up to get ready, she'd roll over to his side, sighing contently at the warmth he'd left behind for her.

but the bed had no warmth to greet her with. not anymore. she'd wake up, the only warmth she had was her own that barely spread across the bed. she shivers in the mornings now.

the first ever night he'd left for bahrain, she didn't sleep. and she didn't for the following nights, only catching a night's rest when he returned for a short while.

she didn't want to worry him, he certainly had enough to deal with. she always thought he did anyways.

each time he'd return, she jumped into his arms harder. or when he had to leave, she clung to him more, each time he'd leave a minute later than he was supposed to. he didn't mind, and maybe he wouldn't notice. but he did, he always noticed.

he noticed when she would be glued to his side the second he saw her, doing basically everything with him, even going to training or simply showering. he always let her because secretly he was missing her just as bad.

he'd wash her hair, scrubbing the soap into her scalp as she hummed contently. he'd wash her perfect skin, questioning every bruise that ruined it. she'd always assure him that she hadn't a clue where it was from, but it wasn't a big deal.

when he'd go to make the bed, she'd ask him the day he left to leave it. she hated the constant reminder of his lack of presence when she'd go to lie down, but she'd claim she didn't want to stress him. he knew she lied, but he did it for her.

deep inside they were both hurting. not because of each other, they were always better together. everyone that knew agreed, which wasn't much.

most of the grid had no clue of the two and they liked it like that. their little secret that was just between them, no media or outside interference. just them and their little apartment he'd take care of her in.

but being secret meant secluded dates, or no going out with each other. no fancy restaurants, though she was never a fan. but she wished to experience it. she knew word would get out eventually.

especially if she'd travel the world with him, which to her, wasn't out of the question. she wouldn't mind going to a race posing as a fan, if it meant traveling with him. at this point, she would go as his girlfriend because that's what she was.

that's what she wanted the people to know. because it killed her to think of the girls that hit on him at the after-parties that he always attended, and she knew he would go because he always told her.

he'd relay the details of the night to her in great detail, down to the specifics of the few special drinks he would get. how he would dj. she saw the edits before he even told her.

part of her felt like that type of life and luxury wasn't for her. she wasn't raised around it, it was so foreign. one of the many reasons she'd feel reluctant to go with him as the season started.

but things change, she knew that and he did too. she missed him more than she would've imagined and it killed her inside.

she felt like she was relying on him when he was around. she always told herself she was independent, but was she really?

she felt as if she was having withdrawals without his touch. dramatic, she knew it was, but she couldn't help but feel it. she'd always longed for his company again.

they completed each other. soulmates. he'd tell her without fail that he knew he loved her in other lifetimes before this one, and he'd find her in another too. she believed it because he was the type to make it happen, he'd walk to the ends of the earth for the person he loved, and she was glad that she was the one. but it's tough when there's always life-long dreams in the way

they were both hurting. his empty hotel room he'd returned to, the pile of his clothes that overflowed the suitcase because he'd rather just throw his clothes than to place them nicely.

he had no one to scold him for his messy habits and he hated it. the silence was uncomfortable, only hearing the sounds of the cars as they drove by the hotel he stayed in. without her.

he'd sit at the small table and chair provided in his grand suite, staring helplessly at his phone. a few buttons he could press that would reveal his soulmate as his. but he wouldn't. he couldn't do that to her if she didn't want to.

he'd sigh, running his hands through the damp curls, leaning back in the chair as he yawned. his head turned towards the bed and he groaned.

he hated going to bed without her.

his phone lit up in his peripheral and caught his attention from his messily-made bed back to the screen.

she was calling him and a smile spread across his face. he hastily answered as he held the phone close to his face.

the smile was obvious in his voice as he spoke, "hey darling, why're you callin'?" his tongue glided across his chapped lips, a side effect of not having to carry his girlfriend's things in his pockets everywhere they went. he'd missed it truthfully.

he heard her tired voice hum into the phone, "missed you," she muttered, hearing her yawn and it caused him to as well. he'd sigh after her answer.

"me too, but you know, you could always come to singapore with me," he'd joke, putting the idea in her head with hope, but knew the chances of her wanting to were probably slim to none.

"can I?" his heart jumped out of his chest, he swore it did. he'd always recall jumping out of his seat, pacing the room excitedly with his hand through his hair.

"wait really?" he moved the phone away from his face, searching relentlessly for what he wanted.

"would that be okay?" it was more than okay to him. he was short for breath, pacing tirelessly, and his cheek hurt from smiling so hard.

"already bought the tickets, love." he chuckled happily through the phone and she laughed at him, smiling at the thought of seeing him, "what changed your mind?"

"I missed you," she'd answer honestly, "it's empty without you and I've got nothing to do. plus it's kind of cold," she chuckled at the last sentence, causing him to as well.

he sighed, understanding her point, "I know, babe. I'll get to see you soon," he assured her, "i've got a race tomorrow, so how about tonight you go out with some friends, alright love?"

she hummed in response, smiling as she worked through the idea in her brain, "I love you, lan."

he could tell she had the biggest smile on her face, "I love you too, darling. we'll get through this."

"promise?"

"pinkie."

she had a feeling they would. at god awful hours of night, they'd be back together through a simple call, smiling like idiots at their screens.

and she listened to his advice, asking her neighbors for the favor of holding onto their personal mail until they'd get back.

she'd call up old friends she hadn't seen in a long while and reconciling in places open for 24 hours, laughing till their stomachs hurt and their eyes cried. she'd make future plans with them, and even securing them plane tickets with her to the next race. and probably future ones as well.

and they sat talking for hours, the employees couldn't be mad at the entertainment the group provided and the vibe of homeliness between them. they'd relay every detail of their life they lived since their parting.

she'd tell them about her relationship with lando, the reason for the trip, and their long-awaited reunion. she watched as their jaws dropped. they believed her, but still, she called lando and he'd laugh at her for calling him in the middle of the night for the stupidest reason.

her stupid smile over facetime as he laid in the dark room, his face and bare shoulders illuminated by his phone screen. he was obviously tired, but he didn't care. she was showing him off and he couldn't be more proud.

"hey lando," she dragged out 'o' of his name, giggling softly, "can you please get a few more plane tickets, and maybe some paddock passes."

she watched him shake his head against his pillow, his face pressed against the material as he hid the smirk on his face. truthfully, he would happily give into whatever she wanted. anything to make her happy, and if taking her long-time friends to his race, he'd make it happen.

"whatever you want, love," he'd reply shyly to her, hearing the squeals of the group. they were estatic, but also teasing the girl in front of them. lando laughed at her red-flushed face, "i'll do you one better of getting you access to my garage."

the night had stretched on for a long time, till the sun rose the next day, but none of them were tired. they'd sit there as they watched the sunday race before they'd have to leave to pack and catch their last minute flight.

and when she'd land in the airport, late at night and tired out of her mind, he'd be waiting there. standing with his toothy smile she had missed since the last time they saw each other.

bright flashes of light blinded her when she'd drop her bags and suitcases to crash into his arms. she didn't care, she had him. his presence and his touch against her once again.

they'll be alright.

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normspellsman · 1 year

Text

A Kiss, Perhaps

pairing: spider socorro x fem!human!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 4.4k+ (😳)

warning(s): just spider + reader being cute idiots in love, spider actually being a lovesick puppy that happily follows you wherever you go, subtle brains x brawn dynamic, the tiniest hint of suggestive content (?), first kiss trope, slightest mention of making out, & getting caught (oop-)

taglist: @aonungsmate @universal-s1ut @thatonegirlwiththebeanie367 @optimisticblazetrash @arminsgfloll @amortencjja @dearstell @liyahsocorro @chshshhshshshshshshs @goodiesinthecloset21 @sweetirilly @blushhpeachh @iwannahaveaprettyaesthetic

word bank: ikran — winged creatures used for flying + hunting

note: set before the events of atwow! i keep overdoing myself with these 4k+ fics 😭 but anything for you guys <3 there’s nearly not enough spider fics on this app. give my boy some love T-T! also, tumblr’s being weird & not letting me tag some people on the posts so i’ll try to tag those with a line through their user in the comments.

You loved spending time outside in the forests of Pandora, soaking in everything you saw. You spent more time out of the lab than in it most days.

Spider even joined you at times, trailing behind you like a lost puppy. You probably knew the forest better than the boy, even with his frequent associations with the Sully children. You practically never left the beautiful scenery and spent too many hours exploring every little thing you could. So, he found it best to follow your lead whenever he tagged along on your journeys.

Norm liked to say that you were a lot like Grace Augustine in some ways. Always wanting to analyze and study every single plant you came into contact with. Always too caught up in admiring the beauty and wonder that Pandora provided. Of course you never met the woman but you saw plenty of her video recordings with Kiri and on your alone time. You could say that the two of you had similarities but none that were too significant.

You knew almost every inch of forestry on the moon-planet. Almost.

There was this one place that Spider had stumbled upon many years ago after running around with Lo’ak. It was his little hideout spot whenever he needed time to himself or wanted a break from things. He didn’t think about sharing it with anyone else until you mentioned how bored you were one night, complaining about how you practically seen every inch of the forest and that there was nothing else to see. You loved everything you saw on Pandora but missed the first time admiration one held whenever they saw something they had never seen before.

Spider wasn’t exactly sure if you had already scoped out his little getaway spot but nonetheless, he still wanted to share it with you.

“I don’t think you’ve been to this place though,” Spider speaks up one day, pulling your attention away from whatever you were studying underneath the microscope.

The teen also often offered his company to you whenever you were in the lab doing whatever scientists did. He liked spending time with you, even if you were too caught up in doing sciencey stuff that he had absolutely no clue about.

“What do you mean?” You asked, eyebrows furrowed together in confusion.

A shit eating grin stretched itself onto Spider’s lips. Good, he thought, she doesn’t know what I’m talking about.

“You said that you’ve seen every inch of the forest,” he replied, twirling a pipette in between his calloused fingers, “but, I’m sure you haven’t seen my hideout.”.

Curiosity sparkled in your eyes, back straightening in attention.

“What does it look like?” You asked, genuinely excited about the secret place Spider had kept from you for whoever knows how long.

Spider had you right where he wanted you. Like a prey in his web. There was no way that he was going to give you any details of what it looked like. Where’s the fun in that? He wanted to see the pure, genuine look of amazement on your face when you finally saw the place he was talking about.

“Nuh uh,” Spider tsked, poking your cheek with the pipette, “I am not falling for that. You’ll just have to wait and see tomorrow,” he finished, face inching closer to yours.

Your eyes rolled in annoyance, not pleased with Spider's answer. You at least wanted to know where the spot was or what some of its features looked like, it would help that anxious-excitement feeling that always crawled its way into your stomach whenever you discovered something new.

“Wherever you’re taking me better not be somewhere where I have to climb,” you retorted, slightly pushing back his head with your hand, him snorting in response.

“It’s not that bad. Besides,” he replies, “I can always carry you up there.”.

Spider was ridiculously strong for a human boy his age. The first time you realized it, your stomach twisted in knots. The two of you were play fighting in your early teens when the male managed to pin you down with just one arm, the other slithering in between your bodies as he tickled your stomach. It was in that brief moment that you realized how different and quickly Spider was changing, thanks to puberty.

Just the thought of Spider carrying you up to wherever he had in mind without even breaking a sweat made butterflies erupt in your stomach. You began to wonder how his toned arms would feel around your body or how his tense back would feel against your front as it flexed due to his climbing. (Your mouth began to water a little at the thought. Oh how you wished he would just pull you into his embrace and hold you so you could feel the flexing of his muscles as he did so.)

You quickly scoffed the thought away, shaking your head at the dirty blondes' response. He very obviously took pride in his strength and the fact that he could most definitely carry you anywhere without much difficulty.

“Sure you could, Spider,” you added, your eyes squinting a little at the boy in front of you, unplugging and turning off the microscope you were using.

Spider smirked at your response, tossing the pipette to the side as he saw that you were getting ready to clean up, signaling that you were done for the day and we’re going to head off to bed.

“Night, beautiful,” Spider whispered, ruffling your hair a bit before he turned and left the lab you were occupying.

“G’night,” you replied, pink dusting your cheeks in reaction to the nickname he gave you early on into your friendship.

He always called you that. Max had explained to him what the word meant when he overheard Jake call Neytiri that when he was only a child, wondering what it meant. Max told him that he should only ever mean it whenever he called someone it. So he did. You were the only one he called beautiful and probably would be the only one he ever called that and truly meant it.

“Tomorrow, three hours before eclipse,” Spider quickly added, heading peaking through the door of the lab, a smile on his face as he voiced the time he planned on taking you out.

You only hummed out in acknowledgment, shooing him away as you focused on your task of cleaning up your area of the lab.

You really couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

———

“Hurry up, you’re going to make us late,” Spider whined out, sprawled out on your freshly made bed, a ball of yarn in his hands as he tossed it up and down towards the ceiling.

You rolled your eyes at the boy, annoyed at his words. It wasn’t like there was someone else waiting for you at the spot he wanted to take you to.

“We are fine, Spider,” you scoffed out, finishing tying up your shoelaces together besides the teens head as your body was in a seated position. Your hand briefly reached out towards Spider’s knotted locs, messing with them a little before he turned his head to teasingly nip at you, teeth not making contact with your skin. You squealed in response, hurriedly pulling back your hand in order to avoid the boy's sharp teeth.

Spider barked out a laugh at your response, tossing the ball of yarn to the side, softly landing on the floor with a dull thud. Another thing he loved, messing with you. He took great joy in doing it and seeing your reaction.

“Yeah well, the faster you finish getting ready, the faster we’ll be at my spot,” he retorted, pushing himself up to a sitting position, a bored look on his face as he looked at you.

Spider had only been in your room for around fifteen minutes, barging in when you just finished braiding your hair yelling about how long you were taking and how by the time you were done, it’d be sunrise already. He was all ready to go and had been waiting for you for almost thirty minutes before coming into your room unannounced. He usually did, which caused you to throw whatever was closest to you at him, demanding him to get out. You got used to it over the years but still, you needed privacy and sometimes, you felt like you rarely had that around Spider due to his spontaneous barging into your room. You gained the ability to change out of and into your clothes incredibly fast, almost always narrowly missing flashing Spider.

“Okay, okay, I’m all ready,” you responded, hands going up in surrender as you stood up from your spot on the bed, dusting off the back of your thighs and the front of your shorts.

Spider groaned out in relief, hopping off the bed and grabbing your packed bag that was placed by the doorframe, throwing it over his shoulder before grabbing your hand and rushing you out in excitement.

“You’re gonna love it, I swear!”.

———

The both of you had arrived and climbed up to the place Spider had wanted to take you to in an hour and a half. The sun was just at eclipse when you arrived. Spider didn’t hesitate to crouch down a little so you could jump onto his back, legs and arms tightly around his neck and waist before he began the ascent up.

“We’re here,” Spider whispered, slightly out of breath from the exercise. He tapped your thigh twice, signaling that it was safe for you to let go.

The first thing you saw were vines. Lots of them. It covered almost every inch of solid rock, clinging across the surface until your eyes landed on a small opening, the vines dangling over it as the twine and its leaves cloaked the opening. No wonder you never knew of this place. Regardless of it being too high up for you alone to climb, it was very well hidden by the green vines.

It seemed like it was a cave, from what you could see. Peeking past some of the small openings in between the vines, you couldn’t see much light through the gaps. It seemed to be pretty dark and the only light that was getting through was the sunlight that managed to squeeze between the vines.

“You excited?” Spider asked, anxiety settling itself in his stomach. He wanted you to like his secret spot. It was special to him. He didn’t even tell Lo’ak about it and he tells the Na’vi boy practically everything.

“Very,” you replied back, eyes still glued on the intricate weaving of the vines. You tried to imagine what was behind the plant's structure, excitement setting in.

You liked finding new things but this felt different. More personal. Spider told his loved ones almost everything, so you were genuinely surprised when he brought up the fact that he had a secret hideout. And knowing that you were probably the only other person to see and know about this place made it even more special and personal.

“C’mon,” Spider whispered, taking your hand in his as he gently pulled you inside, pushing the vines to the side to make room for the both of you to get through.

It was dark at first, the numerous vines making a dull thud sound as they fell back into place once Spider let them go. But then, small blue dots of light appeared, scattered across the walls and ceiling of the cave, lighting up the space in its dim light. The longer you two walked, the more brighter it seemed to get. The biolomenscient dots got dimmer and dimmer the further you and Spider went, the warm glow of the sunset replacing it.

Another opening made its way into your line of sight, giving you the perfect view of the eclipse and more.

“Holy shit,” you whispered out, hand still grasping Spiders.

The sight before you was absolutely breathtaking. Ikran flew across the setting sun, shrieking in delight as they dipped and dived. The floating mountains were scattered across the sky, thick and large vines connecting them to each other so they didn't drift too far from another. The vibrant colors the setting sun emitted settled across the horizon and danced across the tops of the trees beneath the cliff you and Spider were currently standing on.

Spider smiled at your response, warmth spreading across his body as he came to the conclusion that you were enjoying the sight before you. He felt nervous before, not wanting you to not like where he was taking you. But now, he felt so happy. Happy that you were awestruck and couldn’t tear your eyes off of everything in front of you.

“Like it?” He asked, hand squeezing yours to catch your attention.

“Like it?” You replied, eyes still darting across the beautiful scenery in front of you, “I love it! How come you didn’t take me here earlier?” You pouted at the end.

The boy only chuckled in response. To be honest, he considered this place to be his. Like a little secret. He wasn’t planning on sharing it with anyone. But the more he thought about it and visited the small cave slash cliff hideout, the more he wondered what it’d be like to share this place with you. He was over the moon when you agreed to tag along last night. This was no longer going to be just his spot but the both of yours.

Spider slightly tugged on your hand, guiding you to follow his actions in sitting down, legs dangling over the cliffs edge.

“It’s so beautiful,” you commented, settling yourself next to Spider, hands still intertwined.

The human boy hummed in response, eyes never leaving the side of your face. The setting suns colorful rays reflected off the glass of your mask, highlighting your bright eyes as you continued to gawk at the gorgeous sight in front of you.

To Spider, your beauty could never compare to what was in front of him. He had seen this kind of sunset millions of times before but he always found himself thinking of you whenever he gazed at the eclipse and the colorful horizon. You were truly one of a kind. He always felt special whenever you graced him with your presence. His eyes never left your face whenever the two of you hung out, oftentimes running into things on accident which made me even more flustered once your laugh reached his ears. If he were in a Na’vi body, his tail would be swaying furiously back and forth like a dog excited to see their owner whenever his eyes settled on your figure. You always had a special place in his heart. Which makes this moment even more special.

“Hmm, just like you, beautiful,” he whispered back, nudging your shoulder with his.

A wide toothed smile made its way across your lips, a giggle escaping them as you shook your head at the boy. “Cheesy,” you replied, eyes finally tearing away from the sunset and settling on Spider.

Your breath hitched in your throat when you realized how close the two of you were. Your shoulders were touching and your clasped hands were in Spider's lap, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand. If it weren’t for the masks you had to wear, you most likely would be able to feel each other's breath. Just the thought gave you slight goosebumps.

“Sappy,” Spider agreed, laughing in response to your previous statement. He tended to be overly romantic whenever around you. Albeit he never outwardly voiced his thoughts, he still thought them. You only got a glimpse or two of that side of him, it only being during whenever the two of you were joking around or he was trying to bring your spirits up on a particularly hard day. It never failed to make you feel better or laugh in response.

Your eyes were stuck on Spider's face, glancing from his eyes, to his nose down to his lips, and then back up to his eyes. He was probably the prettiest human boy you’d ever seen, and the only one you’d seen.

“Want to know how I stumbled across this place?” He asked, cheeks reddening at your intense stare.

“Please,” you responded, shifting a bit to face more towards the boy, hands still tightly interlocked.

Spider brightly smiled before starting, glad to be finally sharing this, his place with you.

———

You had stayed out way past curfew, too caught up in the beauty of Pandora to realize just how late you and Spider stayed out.

He had you put yourself on his back again on the way down, your hands returning to grip his shoulders as your legs tightly wrapped around his waist. You found yourself thinking about his muscles and his strength again, making yourself blush at every thought. The fact that you were so tightly pressed up against him and could feel his back muscles twitch and flex as he climbed down didn’t help, at all.

But he too was blushing. There have only been a handful of times where the both of you were in a position like this, so close together. Most of them were when you were children and still needed the comfort of someone else to sleep, Norm often finding the two of you entangled together as you softly snored away in your deep slumber. The other time being when you had a tickle fight and he pinned both of your hands above your head and tortured you with his swift fingers against the sensitive skin of your stomach. Spider almost kissed you that day, if it weren’t for Max’s interruption, telling Spider that Lo’ak was there for him. And the other time being now. It had been so long since he had you this close. Of course you two hugged and had sleepovers whenever you were bored, but even then, you never had your body that close to his and vice versa. Spider could feel the beat of your rapid heart against his back, smirking at how fast it was pumping.

It was nice to have you this close to his body. Especially in this circumstance. He felt like he was protecting you, in a way at least. Spider knew that you didn’t have the type of training he did regarding exploring the expanse of Pandora’s forests. You mostly explored on your own and kept to the forest floor whereas Spider leapt from tree to tree with Lo’ak and climbed whatever he could. And regarding this fact, he knew that you wouldn’t be able to pull yourself up to climb all the way to where he wanted to take you as well as back down. So this was the least he could do. Have you cling to his back as he descended back down to the mossy ground.

The minute your feet touched the floor, you took off sprinting, shouting at Spider to race you back to the lab. Poor boy barely had any time to process it, standing there in shock for a few seconds before quickly following after you, catching up to your figure within minutes.

The boy beat you to the lab even with your head start.

“No fair!” You whined out, huffing and puffing from your sprinting. Damn, you thought to yourself, and to think Spider does this everyday.

“Hmm, sucks to suck I guess,” Spider teased, patting your head as you stood there with your hands on your knees trying to catch your breath. Your mask began to fog up from your ragged breathing.

You playfully slapped Spider’s hand away as you both walked up the stairs to the lab, the boy holding the door open for you as you walked through.

Once the door shut, a hissing sound reached your ears, signaling that the filter was forcing out the Pandora air and replacing it with the air you and the other humans needed to breathe. When the small light above the second door turned green, you quickly discarded your mask and pushed through the secondary door.

“That was so much fun!” You exclaimed, wide smile on your lips as you turned back towards Spider, watching him place both of your masks back onto the small rack they usually reside on.

Warmth spread throughout Spider’s chest at your exclamation, proud that he was able to make you this happy from simply sharing his hideout with you. “I’m glad you had fun,” he replied, a gummy smile spreading onto his lips.

“Thank you so much for taking me! I really enjoyed tonight,” you continued, same smile still plastered on your face.

You felt grateful that Spider wanted to share a place he had found and kept to himself for a while with you. It made you feel special. Really special. You wanted to do something for him that showed your gratefulness. But your mind kept drawing blanks the more you thought about it. It had to be a grand gesture that showed him just how much you appreciated tonight as well as him in general.

Silence settled itself between the two of you, it resting comfortably in the air. Seconds had passed from the last time you spoke, eyes darting around Spider’s painted striped skin, the paint fading from the days excursions. As your eyes settled back onto his face, you realized that he was staring at your lips.

A lightbulb went off in your head. Yes, a kiss would work.

“I am very grateful that you decided to share your hideout with me. I feel honored,” you began, taking a step closer to the boy in front of you, “Is there anything I could do to show my appreciation?”.

Spider gulped at your question, one thing coming to mind. But, the boy only shook his head and shrugged. “It’s alright. I’m just happy to have spent tonight with you,” he replied.

Sappy motherfucker, you laughed to yourself, feeling yourself melt at how sweet Spider was being. You knew that he’d never force you to do anything that you didn’t want to do. Another thing that you loved about him. (Right after his face and muscles, of course.)

You hummed in response, inching closer as you did so. You could practically hear how fast Spider’s heart was beating against his chest, making you slightly smile at how you might be the cause of it.

“I think I have something in mind,” you trailed, straining your neck a bit to look up at the boy as you finally stood chest to chest. A few strands of Spider’s locs fell in front of his face and dangled besides yours, hand going out to tuck it behind one of his ears. The boys knees almost gave out at the movement, stomach twisting in knots and skin beginning to tingle from your gentle graze.

“And w-what could that b-be?” He stuttered, dark blush covering his cheeks. He felt his heart beat even faster as the seconds ticked by, if that was possible.

You smiled up at Spider, right hand coming to gently take his left one. “A kiss, perhaps?” You asked, not expecting him to agree right away.

“You…you w-want to…to k-kiss me?” He shakingly asked, the hand in yours intertwining his fingers between yours. He couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. That you suggested that you both kiss. He’s dreamt of kissing you ever since he saw the couple down his hall kiss when he was younger, Max yet again had to explain the action to him. Ever since he knew that he liked you. Since he knew that you’d be the only one for him as long as he breathed.

You nodded at his question, eyes falling from his eyes to his lips and back to his eyes. You also dreamt of kissing the boy. You wanted to ever since you saw an Earth movie from the twenty-first century where the two protagonists were lovers. You wanted to experience everything that the two lovers in the movies experienced with Spider. It was something you often caught yourself daydreaming about when you had nothing else better to do.

At your confirmation, Spider gently and delicately cupped your face in his warm and bigger hands, bringing you closer to his lips. There was a sliver of space between your lips and his, the teen boy waiting for something. Spider’s eyes searched yours for hesitancy and when he saw none and received another nod of your head, he pressed his plump lips against yours.

Your left hand went up to his waist to steady yourself, knees nearly giving out on the spot as your brain realized that this was actually happening.

Warmth was the only thing you felt from the kiss as well as adoration and care. You thought the whole fireworks thing was a bit silly whenever a character in a movie talked about it. But this, this was so much better than fireworks. You could feel how much Spider loved and cared for you through a single kiss. Could feel how nervous you made him through his shaky hands and rapid heartbeat. It was much better than fireworks. You felt loved and cared for through your shared kiss. You only hoped that Spider could feel the same things you did from the kiss as well.

The two of you stood there for who knows how long, kissing and pecking each others lips. You only broke away from the kiss two times to inhale more oxygen before you passed out. Spider meanwhile kissed all over your face as you did so, placing gentle kisses against your cheeks, nose, forehead, and chin before slotting his lips against yours again once you filled your lungs with sweet oxygen.

A loud cough erupted from behind you, halting the both of you in your kiss. Fear and anxiety spikes through your system, eyes widening as you slowly turned around to see who caught you and Spider kissing face.

“I don’t want to know,” Max started, arms crossed against his chest as a sleepy expression painted his face, “Just, get to bed. Separately. And if anyone asks, I saw nothing, okay?”.

You swear you never ran to your room so fast in your life, giggling out into the quiet corridors of the lab with Spider trailing behind you. Yeah, sorry Max, but there was no way that either of you were going to bed in your respective rooms tonight. There was too much to talk about and catch up on.

#atwow imagines #avatar #avatar imagine #avatar: the way of water #atwow #atwow x reader #atwow x you #avatar x reader #spider socorro x reader #spider socorro #spider socorro x y/n #spider socorro x you #spider socorro imagine #spider socorro imagines #miles socorro #spider socorro x human reader

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muffymello · 22 days

Text

Handsy

(Buggy the Clown x f!Reader)

A small-town shopkeep makes the biggest mistake of her life by capturing a weird-ass spider.

1.8k Words

Working in such a tiny shop had plenty of issues. Cramped spaces, not enough room for stock, no escape from whiny customers…

But, there were also upsides. Mainly that cleaning was easy, but today being able to spot a huge spider on one shelf with ease made it a lot easier to pick up an old shoebox to capture it in. You didn’t get a good look before snagging it, just shutting the box tight and sitting on it immediately. It was a good thing too, from the way it slammed against the box aggressively it would have had a chance of escaping if you hadn’t done so.

A few layers of tape and air holes in the box made your life a lot easier, customers and coworkers alike praising you for your bravery. You didn’t love bugs, but didn’t harbor the strong fears of many others towards the creepy crawlies common to your town. The coworker who had spotted it initially and screeched for your help was especially grateful, wishing you thanks and avoiding the box as you put it behind the register.

This wasn’t the only big event of the day, as you were in for a surprise when a tall, broad man in a colorful costume burst into the store. He seemed slightly frantic, one arm hidden beneath his cape as he waved the other wildly. He was eye-catching not only because of his height and loudness, but the clown makeup and neon blue hair he had. The pirate hat on his head alerted you to the possible danger of this man, and you gripped the dagger next to the register tightly just in case as you ushered your coworker into the back room.

“Excuse me there, doll,” The strange intruder sneered, making you wince a bit at the nickname. His smile was his best feature, you decided, but the condescending tone falling from his lips didn’t do much to help him. “Have you happened to see… any spare limbs around?” He muttered the last few words, cheeks going even redder than the makeup had set them to be.

“I- uh… not really, no?” You responded, trying to figure out if this was some weird joke. “Spare limbs… what do you really mean by that, sir?” The tone you used was respectful but awfully puzzled, having no clue what was going on. You swore you’d seen the pirate before, but you couldn’t put your finger on even such a recognizable face. He didn’t bother to answer your question, just grunting animatedly before swishing his cape and leaving. You could have sworn you saw a hand missing from his hidden arm, but it must have been a trick of light as his colorful apparel was almost painful to look at for too long.

Murmurs were shared amongst customers after he stormed out the front door, the name Buggy the Clown being tossed around continuously. As your coworker emerged, eyes wide, she looked quickly to the box now tucked neatly under the counter. You had planned to walk into the forest in the evening to set the creature free, but with the way she was looking at the box now you were worried for what she was about to say.

“Hey, um… did you happen to get a good look at the spider earlier?” She questioned, voice barely above a whisper as her face paled. You stepped towards her, ready to catch her in case she fainted. She looked awfully close to doing so, only growing paler at your next words. “Not really, just scooped it up in the box and called it a day. Why?”

“Do you- do you know who that was?” She now stuttered, panicked in every sense of the word. Her fear of spiders must’ve fully left her body in that instant as she grabbed the dagger to rip the tape from the box’s edge, lifting the lid to peer inside. She yelped before almost dropping the box, quickly clutching it to her chest to keep the lid shut as tightly as possible while yelling for you to tape it back up. This little scene didn’t catch much attention from customers, still caught up in their own conversations as the two of you freaked out behind the counter.

Once it was taped and back in its spot, you watched her sink to her knees and shiver. “What, what is it?” You demanded, now worried yourself. What did the spider have to do with the strange pirate, and why had it worked her up so much.

“You didn’t catch a spider at all… we should have been watching closer, oh god-” She babbled on, seemingly lost in her own head before snapping her head up to look you straight in the eye. “That clown has a 15 million berry bounty and is nothing to scoff at- and we just kidnapped his left hand!” She whisper-shouted, not wanting to let any customer hear what had just happened as your face paled to match hers. You realized that his missing hand earlier hadn’t been oyur eyes fooling you, he must have eaten a devil fruit and-

oh god.

“Can he still feel his hand when it’s… detached?” You asked, mortified at the nod you received in response. Neither of you had any clue what to do, but knew that talking or doing anything more while customers were still around was definitely a bad idea. His face in the stack of wanted posters delivered to the shop later that day didn’t do anything to calm either of you down, and your mind went blank trying to come up with a plan.

That’s how you got here now, the left fist of a feared pirate captain stuffed into a backpack slung over your shoulder as you tried to move as inconspicuously as possible towards the forest. Tossing the bag into the woods would leave it easy to find but remove any chance of you being found as the culprit, and heaven knows your weak-hearted coworker wouldn’t be able to do this herself. You used the shadows and dark to your advantage, trying to ignore the loud, annoying tapping of the hand on the box it was trapped in.

The last few hours had been just tapping, no doubt the pirate trying to track the hand down easier. You sat in an alleyway to gather yourself for a second, catching your breath and preparing to run the final stretch to the woods. As you moved to sit down, the bag fell off of your shoulder and slammed hard into the brick wall. The tapping stopped, and you felt a huge pang of guilt, more than you could really justify for a pirate of his status.

Your heart won out over your mind as you unwrapped the hand’s makeshift box cage, inspecting it for injury. After a few gentle brushes of your hand, you were surprised as the detached appendage began to hold your hand back. There wasn’t any permanent damage, but you patted it gently as an awkward apology for the rough treatment. You decided to just hold the hand for now, wrestling it back into the box when you were so close to the forest would be useless. You sat there for multiple minutes, patting the hand absentmindedly as your heart began to race just a little less, when you finally came up with a bit better of a plan.

Sitting in the forest alone was dangerous for a lonely hand, and you were going to return it to the pirate yourself. He should be grateful, maybe even give you a reward, and he would have no way of proving you didn’t find the hand now and choose to return it immediately.

The ship was anything but subtle, docked not in the main harbor but off to the side with flashy lights and colors. You shoved your hand into your pocket along with Buggy’s, trying to communicate to him with two quick squeezes even if you didn’t really know what it is you were trying to say. You marveled at the ship before you, the circus tent mounted on the top was unlike anything you’d ever seen before in this small town. It was extremely out of the ordinary for you to encounter pirates or even explore at night at all.

It made the majesty of the ship all the more striking, having to force your shaky legs to keep moving as your nerves increased. Your head yelled to turn back as your heart only thought of the warm, gentle caress of the hand holding yours in your pocket. It never gripped painfully, but it was a tight, almost pleading grip. You could feel a slight shake in the hand, your heart ruling that you’d make sure it found it’s way back to its owner without any issue.

Immediately upon boarding the ship you were halted, oddball pirates inspecting you for any signs of danger before threatening you, asking what your business on board their ship was. “I just want to speak to your captain, please.” You said, as calmly as you could muster. The whole ship seemed like a party as of right now, even the pirates surrounding you seemed tipsy and unserious. One led you into the circus tent, where the partying intensified even more. Loud music, booze, acrobatics, showmanship, and a grand throne in the center of it all.

As you tried not to marvel at everything going around on this insane ship, you zeroed in on the throne. Perched on it lazily, one leg thrown carelessly over the arm was the captain himself, Buggy. He looked out of place despite his costume choices, his face mopey and dull. You squeezed his hand in your pocket again without thinking, surprised as you watched his mouth curve into a small smile before he squeezed back. Still, he looked depressed as he displayed his left arm, handless, perched upon his knee with the empty stub of a wrist actively visible.

You hadn’t realized you stopped to stare until one of the circus pirates guiding you gave you a light shove, causing you to stumble your way through the theatrics until you were right in front of the throne. Buggy barely spared you a glance before looking back out to his crew, watching all their performances intently but without a hint of amusement with any of it on his face. When you finally spoke, his eyes returned to you and stayed there, intimidating but not scary.

“Um, sir- captain? Buggy, I mean. I found your, I mean- I saw it and-” You gave up on your stuttering, opting to pull your hand and his out of your pocket to show instead of tell. You gave it one last squeeze as his face lit up with a huge grin, and you couldn’t help the yell that escaped from you as his hand returned to his body, bringing you along with it.

You were now in the lap of a high-bounty pirate aboard his ship as he didn’t seem to want to let go of your hand, too close for comfort as he grinned and chuckled at your startled expression.“Well, well, well, doll. Holding my hand, and I don’t even know your name.”

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skoulsons · 1 year

Text

Talking about the sniper section bc it’s. My heart feels like that house.

First, BEAUTIFULLY DONE. absolutely perfect, every part of it. But rewatching, Joel never stops watching Ellie. Not for a second. He’s watching where she’s going and he’s watching behind her for infected. When she’s knocked to the ground after Joel shoots the one clicker, she spots an open window in a van. Joel is watching her and sees where she’s looking and knows exactly where she’s trying to go. You see his eyes move to the left to see the van. And she knows he’ll kill all of the infected in her way. Because she trusts him. And because he won’t let her die.

And once Ellie’s in the van, Joel’s fire ceases except for killing the ones behind it. He is only looking out for her. Anything gets close to that van, he’s there immediately. There’s a shot of him after the bloater surfaces of him just watching. Not firing, just observing the van. Watching for infected. Keeping her safe.

And then one comes up, a young girl in a BLUES CLUES SHIRT, and you see the panic immediately on his face. He goes from completely still to shaking. He fires and he misses. His reload even feels rushed. His breath is shaky, hitching even. His entire face is trembling. And then the clicker is in the car and he can’t see it anymore. He can’t protect her anymore. And it cuts again to him taking two quick, rushed, and paralyzing breaths. He adjusts his grip on the gun because his hands are sweating. And now he, much like she had to minutes prior, has to trust that she can and will get out of this, as much as he wants to be the one to save her from it

Then it cuts to Joel again when she’s outside the van.

This is panic. Fear. This is not knowing what’s coming out of that van. If that clicker ate a hole in her neck and it’s the one escaping. The fear of not knowing her fate and if he just lost her again. Of not being able to protect her because he can’t see her through the windows of the van. The fear of so many uncertainties.

And this is relief. His shoulders have even fallen back slightly, relaxing. When he sees she’s out and closed the door on the clicker. That she’s, in a weird, twisted way, safe again. Because he can protect her again. Because he can, and will, kill every infected in her path.

And then she’s on the ground and they can see each other again. Ellie looks over to Henry and Sam and sees them struggling under the car. She can’t leave them. She reaches for her shiv and she looks to Joel in the house.

She’s determined. And he knows it. He can’t see them under the car, but he can guess what she’s saying. What she wants to do. What she’s asking him to do. To continue to protect her (like he’d ever stop), as dangerous and heart attack inducing as it will be for him to see her do this. And he makes a face that Pedro seems to make in every role he plays.

This face. This face, to me, means a plethora of different things depending on his role. But in this context, it’s more of a ‘fine, I’ll do it. I’ve got you’ one. He even nods slightly. Really slightly. Deep down, he wants them safe, too. It’s dangerous down there. It’s full of infected. And he’d like nothing more than to get out of there with her in one piece. But Ellie has a big heart. She cares about Henry and Sam. And Joel knows that. He’s seen how she’s been with Sam. Laughing with him, reading with him, signing with him, playing soccer with him. How long has it been since she’s been able to do this with another kid? But Ellie’s asks him just a little more. I need to get to them. Protect me.

And he does, of course he does. He kills five(?) clickers that touch her or get in her path. And he’s no longer shaking. He’s as stable as ever in firing. He nails every single shot, killing every clicker in her way. Ellie gets to Henry and Sam, killing the clicker on Henry and stabbing the one on Sam while Joel finishes it off. And he watches for any more that come their way. And once he sees they’re in the clear, he leaves and meets up with them immediately

Main point being - protective dad Joel <3

#those two Joel screenshots? the ones of panic and fear? those are like a second apart. maybe less.#it’s all in his eyebrows and forehead. his forehead is creased and there’s lines at the beginning of that shot #but when he relaxes they immediately soften #I hope this is coherent because it is very late and my thoughts are RACING #I made a list of six things I want to write about-so expect those this week if they all end up happening :)#this came out very long but don’t expect any future ones to get any shorter #the last of us hbo #tlou spoilers #joel miller #ellie williams

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gatitties · 9 months

Text

The end?

─Yandere!bonten x assassin!reader

─Summary: You're sick of all the chasing and you want to put an end to this whole game of cat and dog

─Warnings: toxic behavior, blood, obsession, stalking, suicide attempt, violence, yandere stuff

@epitios here you go!, and for everyone who was waiting for a third part too😌

Part One / Part Two

You collapsed on the floor of your apartment, your breathing quickening and gasping, the sound of your heart pounding in your ears so loud you thought your eardrum was going to explode at that very moment. You covered your mouth as you moved slowly to the closet, the front door opening.

"Dammit, you said this was the exact location, you useless Sanzu."

"Shut up, at least I've gotten enough clues to find something solid."

Rindou rolled his eyes inspecting your apartment, you swallowed dryly, trying to calm your panic attack, you slowly pushed a lever inside the small space, a small door opened next to you, you crouched down to enter through the narrow secret passage, closing behind you just as the closet doors opened.

"Nothing around here…"

"Look at this, at least we know someone has fled from here."

Rin smiled when he saw the almost cold food in the kitchen, a maniacal smile on the drug addict's face when he saw that he had hit the nail on the head, he supposed that you had escaped from them in time, but how much longer would you hold out? They were already too close. They both warned the others to search the surroundings but they couldn't find you, Mikey was starting to get impatient with this search.

You narrowly missed their radar since the guy with the stupid braid, as you knew Mochizuki, almost caught you sneaking through the alleys of the city. It was stressful, you were on the brink of collapse right now, you had spent five months playing hide-and-seek with this stupid mafia, you had practically given up the dirty jobs underground just to survive the Bonten executives. They pushed you over the edge because you never seemed to have more than a couple of days to have to find a new place or personality to adopt to throw them off, you had frequent nightmares, anxiety attacks, your life was turned upside down right now and you wanted to end all this shit.

You were young, definitely many years of life ahead, but you already felt rotten inside, you had experienced many things, pleasant and unpleasant, all this 'game' with Bonten only made what little sanity you had kept go overboard, your work wasn't a pleasant thing to do and now they've got your mind blown.

"Well, this will be the final point, I don't care about anything anymore, they won't need to look for me anymore, damn stalker psychopaths."

You looked at your figure in the mirror one last time with dead eyes, your favorite clothes on, all you had on you was a gun with a bullet in it, you left a note for the guy you rented the apartment from earlier that day, apologizing for give him so much trouble, you sent your parents one last message even though they didn't deserve a look from you, you felt that the fairest thing was for them to know that at least you wouldn't see them again even if they wanted to.

A shaky sigh escaped your lips as you looked at the imposing building, it's not like it was the first time you've infiltrated, the truth is that if you could go back in time you would choose not to have come that day and threaten those men to leave you alone, you only made things worse, but today you would put an end to it.

As you infiltrated like last time, everyone was gathered, confused by the message they had found while tracking you down, Kokonoi left the crumpled note on the round table after reading it.

"It doesn't make sense, run away and now ask to see each other? isn't that weird?"

Takeomi nodded, no one would be stupid enough to want to meet their potential kidnappers and stalkers on their own turf, but anyway, they were all prepared and armed depending on what happened.

"And if it is only a decoy?"

Ran straightened up in his seat, fiddling with his braids, Kakucho got up to look through the vents, where you came in the other time.

"Whatever it is we can only wait, it's not like she can go very far, we have contacts everywhere."

Mikey remained silent the entire time, the others talked creating theories of your next move, he just stared blankly, fleeting memories of you in his mind, you were just a whim, but he wanted you to bow down to him, no one had ever had the courage to threaten him so openly and escape for so long, you would be like a trophy to him, what happened next, he didn't care much.

His eyes moved slightly towards the restored window that you broke, remembering how your body rushed into the void falling into the darkness of the night, he narrowed his eyes when he thought he saw something strange move near the window, like a reflection of someone who didn't was in the room.

"The window…"

His murmur almost goes unnoticed if it weren't for the fact that everyone fell silent at the right moment, they almost broke their necks to look at the window, at that very moment they all covered themselves because the glass exploded, falling all over the place, again, you positioned yourself on top of the table with a dominant stance, even though your mind was thinking that in this situation you were anything but the one dominating the stupid game you've been playing for months.

"Catch her!"

"Don't touch me!"

You kicked Kakucho, moving to avoid Mochizuki's arms, holding everyone at bay until Mikey rose from his seat, ordering everyone to stay put, your chest heaving from the short but intense fight, feeling uncomfortable under the gaze of all those men.

"I think you came here to make a deal, right? We hear you."

The boss smiled when he saw that you lowered your guard, he knew that whatever you said he was not going to accept, right now, on his 'land', you had no say, you were under their control at this moment, he thought that you had abandoned, that you you were going to surrender before them like everyone else, they had succeeded, they had hunted you.

"Yes… I came to say some last words to the people who have finished ruining my life, it's something very important! so listen carefully, I won't repeat it again…" you waited a few seconds to give tension, everyone held their breath waiting for your words, almost anticipating a victory because they caught you in their clutches and that you would have given yourself up "Fuck you! If anyone is going to ruin my life it will be me! I hope we don't meet in hell, whores!"

You quickly moved your hand to reach for your pistol, clamped it to your jaw and fired, blood splattering on the faces of Mikey, Kokonoi and Sanzu, your body falling into the arms of the Haitani brothers, who carefully grabbed you.

"Fuck… that was close."

Rindou muttered seeing how you had only fainted, his brother had managed to reach you before you tried to take your life in front of everyone, he moved your body enough so that the bullet that threatened to dethrone part of your face and skull, only grazed your right cheek and ear, you would surely lose some hearing and you would have a new scar much more visible from now on.

They all looked at each other in silence, Takeomi had taken it upon himself to call a doctor to treat your injuries, they had already done it, there was no way for you to get out of their control easily, you had no way out, you were brave enough to face them a second time and attempting suicide in front of them, Sanzu was delighted by your performance, he couldn't wait to have you with him and all the things he could do, the others having a similar feeling, unlike you, waking up and finding yourself in that situation was not what did you imagine, being trapped with a group of psychopaths, you needed to get out of there no matter what, maybe your attempt to end everything was unsuccessful, but you can always have second chances, you don't care about the cost, you wouldn't give them the pleasure of seeing you bow down to them.

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sanjoongie · 7 months

Text

Your soulmate's on the dancefloor

🍒My submission for @pirateeznet's First Anniversary. I love this net and family and crew🥹 🍒Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x Reader (f) 🍒Quiz result: Going to a club and knowing a stranger far too well- deja vu 🍒Prompt: Eye Contact for far too long, finishing each others sentences, and laughing too hard over nothing at all 🍒Song for inspiration: I don't know why by NOTD 🍒Genre/au/trope: smut, club au, s2l 🍒Word Count: 2,339 🍒Warnings: mentions of drinking (neither reader nor wooyoung are drunk), public sex, sex in a washroom, exhibitionism, breast play, fingering/jerking off foreplay, penetrative sex with a condom, I like you! Wooyoung still fucks me up to this day, he's a panty stealer too okay, yes 🍒Rating: 18+ MDNI 🍒Synopsis: after both you and Wooyoung’s hands meet to pick up the same drink, you soon realize this stranger is almost exactly like you in many ways. 🍒Dedication: @mejuii & @downtoamagicalland my beta darling loves whom I owe the most to

You reached for a vanilla old fashioned at the bar but another veined hand closed over the glass as well. You furrowed your eyebrows in utter disbelief that someone would try to take the drink YOU clearly ordered.

The other hand came from a man who blinked at you, clearly expecting you to remove your hand first. You smiled brightly instead. "I'm sorry, but this is mine. A vanilla old fashioned, they said."

The red haired man shook his head and pointed a finger to his pierced ear. His lips turned downwards to speak of how he didn't have a clue what you said. You waved your hand to your face to indicate he should smell the drink. The obviously-dyed redhead returned a look of being unimpressed.

"It's obviously not a regular old fashioned once you smell it, you idiot," You said under your breath.

The man raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "Did you just call me an idiot?!"

You rolled your eyes. "Oh, so now you can hear me."

"No, but I sure can lip read," The red head shouted.

"Oh for god sake." You shoved your drunk to the man's nose and he inhaled deeply.

His mouth made a pretty pink 'o' immediately. "That's vanilla."

You smiled again but this time it's clearly mocking. "Okay, I'm taking my drink now."

The redhead wrapped a hand easily around your wrist with your drink and locked you in. He waved to the bartender and demanded a duplicate of your drink. Soon, the man is double fisting, his original order and his new one, and motioned with his head for you to follow.

Curious and without any other solid intentions, you followed him in his jean outfit through the dance floor. The crowd didn't exactly part for him, insomuch as he flowed around the crowd. That either came from a dance background or the fact that he just did this a lot.

"Come here often?" You can't help but wonder once he takes a seat at a table.

"Yeah but it's only because the dj plays exactly what I love to dance to," The man said, lifting a drink to his lips and looking off into the crowd casually.

You narrowed your eyes down at the man and he couldn't help but smile. "What?"

"That's exactly why I come here-- "

"--Good beats," He finished your sentence.

"That's weird," You said, suspicion coating your tongue.

“Hey, Wooyoung, we’re gonna head to another bar--”

The voice behind you cut off as the redhead in front of you, Wooyoung you assumed, shook his head at his friend, eyes wide but smiled sunnily back at you. “Don’t worry about him,” Wooyoung assured you.

You lifted an eyebrow at him and moved to turn around but Wooyoung suddenly grabbed both your hands. “Only look at me,” He pleaded with a pout.

You laughed a little. “Are you afraid I’m going to fall in love with your friend if I see him?”

Wooyoung motioned with his chin to his friend behind you and you presumed he left because the set in his shoulders became relaxed. “No,” he insisted.

You drank deeply of your sweet yet bitter drink and made a noise afterwards. “Well I would be, if I were you.”

Wooyoung cocked his head, “Why’s that?”

“It seems like, even though this is the first time I’m meeting you, we are quite alike,” You mentioned casually.

The admission only seemed to spurn Wooyoung on. He leaned full onto the table, elbows braced and his chin in his hands. “Then I suppose, since we’re so alike, you and I, you were thinking that after these drinks are done, that we’d fool around in a bathroom stall.”

You blinked several times, pretty sure you had NOT just heard what had come from Wooyoung’s mouth. Wooyoung laughed, loud and clear, cutting through the heavy bass of the club. “Not so much alike then.”

Finally, your mouth caught up with your brain. “I mean I’m not saying no but I can’t believe you just put it out there like that.”

Wooyoung shrugged with one shoulder, downing the regular Old Fashioned. He made a loud noise of satisfaction. “It was the truth.”

You laughed, making Wooyoung smile as well. “Thank you for being so truthful with me.” You saluted him with your drink and finished yours, following his pace.

Wooyoung scooted closer to you, your thighs touching now. “Wanna share your vanilla concoction?”

You considered it. If you were about to potentially have public sex in a washroom, you’d need a bit of liquid courage to actually take the leap. You nodded resolutely and Wooyoung grinned. That grin seemed dangerous. You should have followed your gut.

Wooyoung sipped the drink and then tilted his head, wet and pink lips moving towards yours. With your previous sip still burning down your esophagus, you tilted your head, receiving his soft lips, and the drink that spilled into your mouth. Where once was the shot of the cocktail, Wooyoung’s tongue was the chaser, bold and teasing. You shivered as his warm tongue played with yours and you eagerly sucked on it.

When you two separated from the kiss, Wooyoung’s eyes were heavy-lidded. “That bathroom trip is starting to look even better.”

Lust was now burning a hole in your lower half right now, spurned on by the alcohol, certainly. You placed a hand high on Wooyoung’s pants. “If you keep kissing me like that, I’d say so.”

“Is it the kiss that excites you or the public sex?” Wooyoung wondered, eyes still lingering on your lips. His own were smeared with the tinted gloss you had applied earlier in the night.

“Both,” You replied easily.

Wooyoung laughed, “Oh, we are alike, you and I.”

It was easy to take Wooyoung’s hand and follow him into a bathroom stall. It was easy to push him up against the wall of said stall. You made sure to press the palm of your hand against his growing chubby. He whined at the attention and then slammed his lips down on yours. Wooyoung’s kisses tasted like vanilla and bourbon and you suddenly realized you were reaping the benefits of being similar to this stranger in the club.

Suddenly, the tables were turned and Wooyoung pushed you up against the wall, leg pressed in between your own. His fingers crept up your jaw, holding you in place to kiss you even more. Wooyoung moaned, growing into laughter. "Fuck, I need you."

You smiled into the kiss and Wooyoung pulled away. "You need me?" You teased.

"It hurts," Wooyoung pouted.

"You don't hear women saying that," You laughed and Wooyoung joined in.

Wooyoung dipped his head to place wet kisses along your collarbone. "Tell me where it hurts, pretty."

You rutted against his leg, Wooyoung flexing it just for you to do so. "My pussy is throbbing, Wooyoung, I need you."

"Fuuuuuuck," Wooyoung groaned, "That's hot."

"My pussy hurts so much, Wooyoung, please touch it," You whined.

Without further adieu, Wooyoung was pulling your dress down to reveal your breasts and you were pulling up your skirt to give him access to your dripping cunt. His lips encircled a nipple, rough tongue moving back and forth across the tip. His teeth applied slightly pressure and you shuddered at the teasing of the pleasure and pain. Wooyoung didn't even pause to dip two fingers into your wetness.

"Oh God," You said throatily. "Let me touch you."

You spit on the tip of Wooyoung’s cock when it was revealed and then you began to jerk him off in the stall as he teased your hole and smeared your wetness across your clit. The two of you were whimpering messes for each other, brains empty except for the pleasure that the two of you were giving each other.

“Wait wait wait,” Wooyoung put his other hand over your wrist, jerking your hand off of him. “You’re gonna make me come before I get to fuck you.”

“But I want you to come on my hand so I can taste you!” You protested.

Wooyoung chuckled. “Same, damn, we really are similar.” He shook his hair out of his eyes to look directly at you. “Except if I come, there might not be a round two. Let me treat you first?”

You let out a shaky breath and say “Okay.”

Wooyoung gently bonked his head with yours. “Okay like ‘get it over with’ okay? Or okay, like ‘I can't manage any other words because you just stole them since you’re a thoughtful lover and I didn’t expect that in the club’ okay.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his audacity. “The latter, Wooyoung. God, you’re ridiculous.”

Wooyoung’s smile hurts for some reason. It’s too bright for this dirty scenario and perhaps you feel your heart burst from it but you quickly shove that down, hard. Wooyoung went back to his messy kisses as he coaxed you to your first climax, which came real quick. He played with your clit like he’s been doing it for ages and you come with a drawn out cry into his eager lips.

You’re too busy coming down from your high to prepare for anything but Wooyoung has it all covered. He sucked down on his fingers, cleaning your essense off of them before he’s got your underwear off and tucked into his pocket before you even realize your body was moving for him. He gently turned your around, helping you arrange yourself so that your arms brace for impact against the graffiti-ed wall. You hear a tearing noise behind you and belatedly realize that he’s putting on a condom for you.

You whined, the sober part of your brain knowing he’s doing what’s right, but you want-- “No creampie?”

Wooyoung chuckled darkly behind you. “No creampie.”

He doesn’t let you wait long against the cold stall, his cock head is rubbing against your more-than-wet folds and even that stimulation has you whimpering. “Ready?” Wooyoung lifted your hair from the back of your neck and placed a wet kiss there too.

You feel like you’ve barely recovered from your previous orgasm but all that’s on your mind is getting Wooyoung inside of you so you nod your head despite your forehead rubbing against the grimy wall.

Wooyoung pushed into you patiently but now he’s the one whimpering. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those girls that only gets tighter after she’s come.”

“Wooyoung!” You chastise him but push back against him and because of that, Wooyoung finished filling you completely. His warm skin is against your ass now and you sigh in contentment.

Wooyoung rested his cheek against your shoulder blades, absent-mindedly kissing the glittered skin there before he began to move inside of you. His careful fingertips pressed into your hips to continue to bring your body flush with his and it only made your lower half throb even more.

“Be good for me, pretty,” Wooyoung murmured into your shoulder blades.

It wasn’t long before he was setting a pretty quick pace that had your lust curling in your stomach, winding tighter and tighter as Wooyoung thrusted into you. The drag of his dick, the fact that he had figured out that spot inside of you after only a few thrusts, the whimpers and grunts behind you all aided to your pending orgasm.

Your arms stopped being a barrier between your face and the stall wall a long time ago. Your cheek rubbed up against it as your hands moved over his on your hips. Only your nails digging into his fingers let Wooyoung know if he was going too hard or not hard enough. You didn’t have any room for words in your brain right now.

Soon, Wooyoung became a bit brainless as well. His hands, intertwined with yours still, were on your breasts, randomly squeezing as he saw fit. Your body was almost fully pressed up against the wall now as Wooyoung humped you from behind, his hips pressed against your ass the only leverage now.

“Oh fuck oh god, I’m gonna come, you’e gonna come right? You gotta! You’re so fucking tight around me right now, I swear every time I thrust into you now, you clench down on me in revenge. Pretty, we can come together right? You’re just like me, you’re ready to come and hard, right? Don’t bite your lip, I know you wanna, but just let out your noises for me, they’re so pretty, just like you tonight, mmmmmmmmm--”

Wooyoung choked on his own words and stilled inside of you just as your orgasm ripped through you like a punch to the gut. A grunt escaped you, your own breath caught as pleasure lit up all your nerves and had you slumping. Wooyoung wasn’t doing much better himself, a wordless groan coming from deep in his throat. His tongue swiped at the skin on your back as he tried to lick his lips multiple times. The both of you slid to the floor, your knees hitting the sticky surface, not giving a shit, however, you had just had arguably the best orgasm of the year.

Wooyoung was the first to find his voice, no surprise there. “Think I know why you were whining about a creampie now.”

“Fuck you,” You said weakly and he hummed in acknowledgement.

“Mmm, we did that already,” Wooyoung replied.

How either of you were going to find your feet and leave the bathroom stall was going to be a thing. Your brain already wondered if you’d have to endure an awkward avoidance of saying ‘see you later’ or if Wooyoung would keep your underwear but also give you his number. You didn’t know if it was love at first sight, or clicking with someone who was very similar to you was just doing it for you, but you knew after being fucked within one inch of your life, you definitely, most positively wanted to experience this again.

Dj got us fallin’ in love again by Usher pumped through the speakers and Wooyoung chuckled. It was beginning to be your favourite new noise.

The crew: @daesukiii @mingsolo @flurrys-creativity @hongcherry Taglist: @hijirikaww @starlitmark @stardragongalaxy @k-pop-ology

#pirateez1year #pirateeznet #cultofdionysusnet #kvanity #kwritersworldnet #ateez smut #jung wooyoung smut #atz smut #wooyoung smut #jung wooyoung x reader #topaz's work #ღatz

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rorywritesjunk · 5 months

Text

I can’t tell where the journey will end But I know where to start

Prequel to my Kid Buggy fic, set about 11-ish years before that story.

Buggy meets you by chance when he needs his buttons sewn back onto his jacket. He’s young, up and coming, and he thinks everyone should cower before him wherever he goes, but all you do is smile at him.

Rating: PG-13ish just for some swearing. Warning: Buggy’s in his early 20s. He’s an asshole. He just is because I wanted to write him loud, demanding, everything. Someone else makes a brief appearance, no names. Sunny is just likeable to many people it seems. Also, I'm not nice to Buggy when he tries to flirt. I definitely write him as a bit of a disaster when it happens. It's just going to get a bit worse from here. A/N: I have no idea when Buggy became a Captain, so he’s a fresh faced captain in this. No clue how long this fic will be. Also I want to say a huge thank you to everyone who reads, reblogs, and replies on this story. I love everyone of you and it makes my day brighter knowing there are people enjoying this! So thank you thank you thank you! <3

Title comes from “Wake Me Up” by Avicii.

TAGLIST: @lostfirefly @ane5e @kingofthemfingpirates @the-angriest-angel @tiredemomama @valen-yamyam16 @i-reblog-fics-i-like @plethora-of-fickleness @uhnanix

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13 + Chapter 14 + Chapter 15 + Chapter 16 + Chapter 17 + Chapter 18 + Epilogue

Chapter 8

Buggy came back with a bouquet of flowers for you that afternoon. He made sure he wore clean clothes, had his hair down, and tried to look his best with his new cravat you gifted him earlier in the day. He was going to ask you out for a proper date. After the two of you kissed in the backroom it seemed like the right thing to do. He hoped you would like the flowers; he managed to find the best bouquet and steal it on his way to see you.

He ignored the large man that left the shop before him, his focus was on getting the flowers to you. Maybe he could get another kiss from you, though he expected you wouldn't do it in front of your boss. However, he didn’t anticipate when he entered the shop that you would be glaring in his direction with Benji hiding behind you while an angry Miss Pins was lowering her shotgun.

“Oh, it’s just him.” Your boss muttered as you stopped glaring and smiled. Benji sighed and crossed his arms as he tried to not look scared.

“What now?” He asked as he glared at Buggy. “Who are the flowers for?”

“Ignore them.” You said as you walked over to Buggy and took the flowers from him. “These are beautiful! Thank you!”

“Buggy, what are you doing here?” Miss Pins asked as she looked between you and the bouquet. “What are you up to?”

“Nothing!” He insisted. You kissed him on the cheek before you went to find a vase to put them in. He crossed his arms and smirked at your boss. “Why, afraid I’m going to steal her away from here?”

Miss Pins reached for her shotgun again as you came out of the back. You went over to Buggy and grabbed his hand. “Let’s go to lunch, okay? I need some fresh air.”

You didn’t wait for an answer before leading him out of the shop. He glanced back at your boss before he turned his attention to you. There was something off about this, you were acting a little weird, looking around as you held his hand tightly. He finally stopped in his tracks and frowned.

“What’s going on?” He demanded. “Why was the kid scared? What happened before I came by?”

“N-Nothing, Buggy.” You laughed nervously. “Nothing, let’s go eat, okay?”

He didn't believe you but he didn’t want to make a scene in the street. Something happened to make you nervous and he wanted to know what, but he didn’t want to possibly ruin a date with you so he decided to wait. He’d ask when he took you back to the shop.

Lunch went well. His table manners were not the best, but what did you expect from a pirate? When he seemed to be finished eating, you wasted no time in reaching over and wiping crumbs off his face with his napkin. He frowned at you when you did that, his cheeks pink. He'd be fine to get more food on his face if it meant you touching him again. You just smiled and sat back in your seat.

“What? Pirates with food on their faces aren’t scary, Buggy.” You teased as you took a sip of your drink. He said nothing as he reached over to steal a bit of food off your plate.

“I'd still be scary!” He shot back with a mouth full of food.

“I'm absolutely terrified right now.” You chuckled as you rested your elbows on the table. “You're so scary.”

He picked this drink up and frowned at you. He was scary when he wanted to be, but he never wanted you to be scared of him. He thought back to the shop, with a scared Benji and you glaring at the door. “Hey, what happened back at the shop before I came in?”

“Oh, um…” You had hoped he would forget that. “About that… an old customer came in that I hadn't seen in about five years.”

“Okay?” Buggy tossed his drink back before gesturing to the waiter for a refill on their drinks. “And?”

“Well, last time I saw him he demanded I marry him… and he came back demanding if again.” You told him with a shrug. “I didn't even know his name, and he just calls me Shop Girl, and I… didnt want to marry him then and don't want to marry him now.”

“He demanded?” Buggy repeated, his jaw dropping. “Did you say yes?”

You stared at him for a moment. He was sometimes really dumb. “No. Why would I say yes?”

“I-I don't know!” He shot back. “I saw that one guy this morning, y’know, kissing your hand and you touching him! Maybe this guy liked that you did that and wanted you to marry him!” He looked away from you for a moment before muttering, “You’re nice, I bet lots of guys wanna marry you.”

“Buggy, shut up.” You told him kindly, and he listened to you. “I did not say yes because I don't know him.” You sighed as the waiter came by and refilled your drinks. “And as for my customer from today, I didn't expect him to kiss my hand.”

Buggy crossed his arms as he leaned back in his seat, looking away from you again. “Did you like it? Didn't you think he was handsome?”

“Normally I don't expect customers to kiss me.” You retorted. Buggy turned red and scratched his cheek.

“About that…”

“I don't think you think of you as a customer anymore after last night, Buggy.” You told him. “And I didn't mind you kissing me, I actually liked it.”

He glanced at you briefly before looking away again. You liked that he kissed you. You weren't disgusted or upset by it. You just said you liked that he kissed you. His mind started racing. He wanted to kiss you again but would it be okay out in public? Did you care about that sort of thing?

“As for this persistent customer, he came back today and didn't want to leave.” You told him as you looked down at the table with a frown. “Benji was actually scared, which is a first so far. This man was… intense.”

“What's his name?” Buggy asked..

“I don't know.” You sighed.

“He wants you to marry him and you don't even know his name?” Buggy looked confused by this. “And you don't want to marry him, right?”

You looked at Buggy with an exasperated expression. “You're so dumb. No, I don't want to marry him. I would marry you before I marry anyone else, Buggy. Plus, he… seemed dangerous. I don't want to be with someone like that.”

Buggy's eyes lit up. Oh, so you would consider marrying him. Was it too soon to ask you? Were you two even in any sort of relationship? He looked at you thoughtfully for a moment before reaching across the table to grab your hand. In doing so he managed to knock over both drinks. You were able to avoid them but he wasn't so lucky. The table just happened to tilt in his direction and his entire body shuddered as the liquids spilled onto his lap, soaking into his pants.

He expected you to start laughing, to walk away and leave him to deal with this himself. Why would he expect anything else? Instead you pulled some berry from your pocket for lunch and removed your sweater, holding it out to him.

“Tie this around your waist and we'll go back to the shop.” You told him gently as he took it from you. While he did as he was told, you used napkins to mop up some of the spilled liquid. He said nothing once he was done, instead watching you to tell him what to do next. You held your hand out to him and he took it, giving it a squeeze before you led him out of the cafe and back to the shop.

Why couldn't any of this go right for him? He tries to flirt with you, gets insulted and falls out of his chair. Tries to flirt with you on your birthday and ends up upsetting you. And on his own birthday he was a drunk mess. And then he managed to kiss you and…he fell over. Now he tried to hold your hand and possibly ruined his pants. And each time (except your birthday) you were there to help him. Why were you so nice to him? He didn't feel like he deserved it.

You ignored your boss and Benji as you took Buggy into the backroom. You looked him over for a moment before going to a rack in the back corner of the room, grabbing a clean pair of pants for him.

“These should fit you.” You told him as you handed them over. You turned your back, allowing him a moment of privacy as he changed into the clean pants. It felt better than the damp ones he had on. He sighed, his hand tapping you on the shoulder when he was done, holding them out to you. It was a little jarring to see a floating hand behind you, but you took the pants and tossed them in the wash bin. “You okay?”

He sat on the chair and leaned forward, shoulders dropped as he held his head in his hands, face burning as he refused to look at you.

“Buggy-”

“Don't.” He mumbled as he covered his face with his hands. “Why can't it go right? Ever?”

“What are you talking about?” You asked him as you walked over to him, touching his shoulder. He hesitated and looked up at you. You were looking at him with a worried expression, your hand resting on his shoulder. Why were you so nice to him? He didn't deserve any of it.

“Nothing.” He looked back down.

“Do you want a hug?”

He looked back up at you. Yes, yes he very much wanted a hug from you, anything to be closer to you, touching you, anything. Buggy stood up from the chair and you wasted no time in wrapping your arms around him, pulling him against you as he closed his eyes. He let his head rest on your shoulder, his arms encircling you as your hand rubbed small circles on his back while your other hand touched the back of his head gently.

This… this was nice. The familiarity and safety he felt in your arms was unexpected but he wouldn't fight it. This is where he belonged, in your arms forever. He never wanted to let go of you.

#buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x you #opla buggy the clown #opla buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy x reader #opla buggy the clown x you #opla buggy x you #buggy the clown x oc #buggy x oc #opla buggy the clown x oc #opla buggy x oc #sunny x buggy #one piece #one piece oc #one piece fanfiction

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underground-secret · 8 months

Text

The Hunter and The Witch: Dean Winchester x fem! reader

description: The boys and Y/N are still looking for John Winchester, now following after the coordinate clue he left.

warnings: cannon violence, blood, death, missing persons, usage and mention of guns, cursing (i think)

tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld

word count: 6,856

Wendigo

(Masterlist/ Next Chapter)

November 10, 2005

Sam jerks awake from the passenger seat of the Impala, Dean driving while a song from the Foreigner’s plays from the radio.

“You okay?” Dean asks voice clear with concern

Sam glances at him and then away, “Yeah, I'm fine.”

“Another nightmare?” Dean asks him, but Sam doesn't answer, only clearing his throat

“You wanna drive for a while?” Dean asks instead.

I look up from my book, with a questioning look.

Sam laughs practically reading my mind, “Dean, your whole life you never once asked me that.”

“Just thought you might want to. Never mind.” Dean brushes off.

“Awwww, Dean, you softie” I say smiling widely with a laugh.

He catches my eyes in the rear view mirror giving me a gruff “No”, but the glint in my eye doesn't go away nor does the smile on my face.

He can deny it all he wants but I know he’s a softie, it’s one of the many many things I love about him…that made me fall for him

Sam laughs, piggy backing off of my teasing, “Look, man, you're worried about me. I get it, and thank you, but I'm perfectly okay.”

“Mm-hm” Dean hums, and I have to agree with him here. There’s no way Sam’s okay, his girlfriend just died in front of him in the same way his mom was killed, I don’t think anyone would be okay after that.

Sam rolls his eyes, grabbing a map from the glove department, “All right, where are we?”

“We are just outside of Grand Junction.” Dean responds.

Sam folds the map, “You know what? Maybe we shouldn't have left Stanford so soon.”

“Sam, we dug around there for a week. We came up with nothing. If you wanna find the thing that killed Jessica—“ Dean reasons getting cut off by Sam

“We gotta find Dad first.”

“Dad disappearing—and this thing showing up again after twenty years, it's no coincidence. Dad will have answers. He'll know what to do.” Dean remarked.

“It's weird, man.These coordinates he left us. This Blackwater Ridge.” Sam points out.

“Hm? What about it?” I ask

“There's nothing there. It's just woods. Why is he sending us to the middle of nowhere?” Sam answers.

“Lots of things could be and or happen in the woods.” I explain just as we drive past a National Forest sign reading "Welcome to LOST CREEK COLORADO National Forest".

The Impala is parked next to a sign that says "RANGER STATION Lost Creek Trail, Lost Creek National Forest". Meanwhile we’re inside, Dean looking at the decorations while I look at the trinkets around.

Sam’s being the helpful one here looking at a 3D map of the forest, “It's cut off by these canyons here, rough terrain, dense forest, abandoned silver and gold mines all over the place.” He informs.

“Dude, check out the size of this freaking bear.” Dean calls out looking at a framed photo of a man standing behind a much larger bear.

“And a dozen or more grizzlies in the area. It's no nature hike, that's for sure.” Sam adds on looking at the photo.

“This will certainly be interesting then” I murmur, picking up a little wooden bear from a shelf holding it up for the boys to see.

“You guys aren't planning on going out near Blackwater Ridge by any chance?” A Ranger says from behind the boys, both of them whipping around startled.

I put the little bear down quickly, locking my hands behind my back with a tight smile on my face.

“Oh, no, sir, we're environmental study majors from UC Boulder, just working on a paper.” Sam covers laughing a little.

Dean grins raising a fist, “Recycle, man.”

I have to bite on the inside of my cheek to not laugh, so as to not break our cover.

“Bull” the Ranger calls, and suddenly I don’t feel like laughing.

“You're friends with that Haley girl, right?” he adds

“Yes. Yes, we are, Ranger…Wilkinson.” Dean goes along with it.

“Well I will tell you exactly what we told her. Her brother filled out a backcountry permit saying he wouldn't be back from Blackwater until the twenty-fourth, so it's not exactly a missing persons now, is it?” Ranger Wilkinson stated.

Dean shakes his head as the Ranger goes on,

“You tell that girl to quit worrying, I'm sure her brother's just fine.”

“We will. Well that Haley girl's quite a pistol, huh?” Dean replied.

“That is putting it mildly.”

“Actually you know what would help is if I could show her a copy of that backcountry permit. You know, so she could see her brother's return date.” Dean adds, clever guy.

We leave the station, Dean holding the paper he asked for laughing

“What, are you cruising for a hookup or something?” Sam asks him.

“Ew, please don’t answer that.” I groan, trying to ignore the pang that rings through my heart at the mere suggestion.

“What do you mean?” Dean asks, looking between me and Sam.

“The coordinates point to Blackwater Ridge, so what are we waiting for? Let's just go find Dad. I mean, why even talk to this girl?” Sam explains, rounding the car to the passenger side.

“I don't know, maybe we should know what we're walking into before we actually walk into it?” Dean reasons.

There’s a pause where no one says anything nor do we move to get into the car.

“What?” Sam asks

“Since when are you all shoot first, ask questions later, anyway?” Dean asks back in return.

“Since now.” He answers, opening the car door and entering.

“Really?” Dean looks from me to the car.

I took a step forward giving Dean’s upper arm a reassuring squeeze. It was meant to be helpful at best but squeezing his arm made me feel the hard muscle underneath his jacket and my head went blank for just one second, my hand lingering.

My face flushed as I gave him a quick smile, entering the car myself.

So much for being inconspicuous.

Dean didn’t move from outside the car for a moment longer, staring where I was standing previously, before throwing open the driver’s side door.

We stand outside the Collins house, the door opening by who I assume to be Haley Collins.

“You must be Haley Collins. I'm Dean, this is Sam, and that’s Y/N, we're, ah, we're rangers with the Park Service. Ranger Wilkinson sent us over. He wanted us to ask a few questions about your brother Tommy.” Dean introduces.

Haley hesitates, “Lemme see some ID.”

Clever girl, I have to admit.

Dean pulls out a fake ID holding it up against the screen. Haley looks at it, then at Dean, who smiles.

She takes the lie, opening the door for us, “Come on in.”

“Thanks.” Dean says simply.

“That yours?” Haley asks Dean, referring to the Impala out front.

“Yeah” He answers.

“Nice car” Shs compliments.

Their brief conversation ends as she leads us into the kitchen, some younger guy sitting at the table on a laptop.

In the corner of my eye I see Dean mouthing something to Sam who rolls his eyes back, but I couldn’t tell what it was about

“So if Tommy's not due back for a while, how do you know something's wrong?” Sam starts off.

Haley places a bowl on the table answering, “He checks in every day by cell. He emails, photos, stupid little videos—we haven't heard anything in over three days now.”

“Well, maybe he can't get cell reception.” Sam offers but that theory gets shut down quickly by Haley as she responds, “He's got a satellite phone, too.”

“Could it be he's just having fun and forgot to check in?” Dean reasons.

The boy on the laptop answered this time, “He wouldn't do that.”

“Our parents are gone. It's just my two brothers and me. We all keep pretty close tabs on each other.” Haley explains.

“Can I see the pictures he sent you?” Sam asks her as she places food down on the table.

“Yeah.” She answers pulling the pictures up quickly,

“That's Tommy” she points.

She clicks two more times showing another picture and then a video, she presses play.

“Hey Haley, day six, we're still out near Blackwater Ridge. We're fine, keeping safe, so don't worry, okay? Talk to you tomorrow.”

“We will find your brother.” I tell her with a reassuring smile as I continue, “We’ll be heading to Blackwater Ridge in the morning.”

“Then maybe I'll see you there. Look, I can't sit around here anymore. So I hired a guy. I'm heading out in the morning, and I'm gonna find Tommy myself.” Haley claims voice and face full of determination.

“I think I know how you feel,” Dean pipes in.

“Hey, do you mind forwarding these to me?” Sam asks, cutting into the slightly heartfelt moment.

“Sure.”

The bar where we sat was a little loud, the sound of pool ringing in the background.

Sam sits across from Dean and I, me sitting on the inside of the booth; a habit we’d picked up when we were younger.

“So, Blackwater Ridge doesn't get a lot of traffic. Local campers, mostly. But still, this past April, two hikers went missing out there. They were never found.” Sam informs us opening John's journal

“Anything before that?” I ask him, leaning forward a bit more.

Sam pulls out newspaper articles sliding them between me and Dean.

“Yeah, in 1982, eight different people all vanished in the same year. Authorities said it was a grizzly attack.” Sam speaks as we read the article titled

‘The Lost Creek Gazette.’

GRIZZLY BEAR ATTACKS!

UP TO EIGHT HIKERS VANISH IN LOST CREEK AREA

HIKERS DISAPPEARANCE BAFFLE AUTHORITIES'

Families continue search and rescue efforts in spite of disappointing [...]

“And again in 1959 and again before that in 1936.” Sam adds, his laptop now pulled out.

“I know bears can be dangerous and all but do people really believe a bear is responsible for eight plus, people’s disappearance. There’s no way a bear would be so pattern like.” I say baffled.

“Yeah well people believe what they want to when nothing else makes sense” Sam answers opening his laptop, continuing with his information

“Every twenty-three years, just like clockwork. Okay. Watch this. Here's a clincher. I downloaded that guy Tommy's video to the laptop. Check this out.” He turns his computer towards Dean and I, going through three frames at a time. A shadow crosses the screen.

I squint at the shadow as Dean says, “Do it again.”

He adds, “That's three frames. That's a fraction of a second. Whatever that thing is, it can move.”

“It’s actually just the reverse flash” I joke

Sam breathes a short laugh, understanding my reference, as he closes his laptop.

Dean looks between the both of us, “Nerds.”

I laugh nudging Dean with my body, “Oh you know you love us” I tease.

“Yeah yeah” he answers playfully, shoving me lightly.

Dean then hits Sam causing him to look up,“Anyway I told you something weird was going on.”

“Yeah, but I got one more thing” Sam adds, bringing back the serious energy. “In 'fifty-nine one camper survived this supposed grizzly attack. Just a kid. Barely crawled out of the woods alive.”

“Is there a name?”

Mr.Shaw, the only survivor of these attacks, leads us inside his house with a cigarette in his mouth as he talks to us “Look, ranger, I don't know why you're asking me about this. It's public record. I was a kid. My parents got mauled by a—“

Sam interrupts, “Grizzly? That's what attacked them?”

Mr. Shaw takes a puff of his cigarette, takes it out, and nods.

“The other people that went missing that year, those bear attacks too?” Dean adds, a pause hits the room before he continues, “What about all the people that went missing this year? Same thing?”

Another pause, he adds, “If we knew what we were dealing with, we might be able to stop it.”

“I seriously doubt that. Anyways, I don't see what difference it would make.” Mr.Shaw sits down, “You wouldn't believe me. Nobody ever did.”

“Mr. Shaw trust me when I say that we’ve seen things, crazy things, there’s nothing you could tell us that we wouldn’t believe” I speak honestly.

He doesn’t answer for a beat, grumbling underneath his breath before finally responding, “Nothing. It moved too fast to see. It hid too well. I heard it, though. A roar. Like...no man or animal I ever heard.”

“It came at night?” Sam asks.

He nods.

Sam asks another question, “Got inside your tent?”

“It got inside our cabin. I was sleeping in front of the fireplace when it came in. It didn't smash a window or break the door. It unlocked it. Do you know of a bear that could do something like that? I didn't even wake up till I heard my parents screaming.” Mr.Shaw clarifies.

“It killed them?” Sam questions.

“Dragged them off into the night.” Mr.Shaw shakes his head adding, “Why it left me alive...been asking myself that ever since.”

Another pause rings through the room before he lifts a hand to his collar, “Did leave me this, though.”

He opens his collar revealing three long scars, claw marks.

“There's something evil in those woods. It was some sort of a demon.”

LATER

We walk the length of the motel corridor, discussing our new found information.

“Spirits and demons don't have to unlock doors. If they want inside, they just go through the walls.” Dean says.

“So it's probably something else, something corporeal.” Sam offers

“Corporeal? Excuse me, professor.” Dean mocks,

“Seriously, that's some big word use” I add on laughing.

“Shut up. So what do you think?” Sam ignores our teasing, well Deans teasing. I wasn't really joking, this time.

“The claws, the speed that it moves...could be a skinwalker, maybe a black dog. Whatever we're talking about, we're talking about a creature, and it's corporeal. Which means we can kill it.” Dean answers using Sam’s big word.

We exited the motel entering its parking lot, heading to the Impala.

Dean opens the truck and then the weapons box, propping it up with a shotgun, as he always does, before putting guns into a duffel bag.

“We cannot let that Haley girl go out there.” Sam reasons leaning in.

“Oh yeah? What are we gonna tell her? That she can't go into the woods because of a big scary monster?” Dean answers, and I have to agree.

“Yeah.” Sam replies.

“Her brother's missing, Sam. She's not gonna just sit this out. Now we go with her, we protect her, and we keep our eyes peeled for our fuzzy predator friend.” Dean lists out.

“I gotta agree with Dean, there’s no way we’d be able to convince Haley anyways so there’s no point in trying.” I pipe in.

Dean picks up the duffel, throwing me a smile. Most likely because I agreed with him this time.

“And finding Dad's not enough? No we gotta babysit too?” Sam argues slamming the weapons box shut, then the trunk.

Dean stares at Sam.

“What?” Sam asks.

“Nothing.” He answers, throwing the duffel bag at Sam turning to walk away.

Sam stares at me and I shrug not knowing what that was about with Dean either.

The next day

The Impala pulls up. Haley, Ben (her other brother), and some other guy in shorts stare at us as we get out of the car.

I handed Sam the duffle bag that was riding with me in the back seat. Securing my brown messenger bag across my chest, carrying some more witchy belongings that might be of aid including my spell book.

“You guys got room for three more? Dean calls out.

“Wait, you want to come with us?” Haley questions.

“Who are these guys?” Mystery man in shorts asks.

“Apparently this is all the park service could muster up for the search and rescue.” Haley comments, eyeing us up.

Sam heads past us all, clearly not wanting to be here any longer then we have to.

“You're rangers?” Shorts man asks.

“That's right.” Dean confirms.

And I can already tell that we’re going to be bumping heads with this shorts wearing guy.

“And you're hiking out in biker boots and jeans?” Haley picks out.

Dean looks down at himself causing me to look down at myself feeling a little conscious now that Haley pointed our outfits out. But hey I’m prepared for the cold wearing a long sleeve shirt, a black sweatshirt, my fleece corduroy jacket that I always wear, and…jeans (to me this seems very logical).

“Well, sweetheart, I don't do shorts.” Dean replies simply heading past Haley.

“Wait, I'm sorry, why would we wear shorts? It’s already cold out and as it gets darker that’s only going to worsen plus wearing shorts leaves you more vulnerable to whatever is out there.” I point behind,me towards the woods, adding, “And I’m just gonna assume here that you short wearing man are supposed to be this, uh, hunter? Haley mentioned yesterday.”

I hear Dean huff a laugh a couple steps in front of us.

Short wearing man didn’t take too kindly to my questioning, “What, you think this is funny? It's dangerous back country out there. Her brother might be hurt. And it’s Roy.”

Sam turns back as Dean calls out behind him, “Believe me, I know how dangerous it can be. We just wanna help them find their brother, that's all.”

Dean passes Sam, and I begin walking after them.

The group hikes through the forest, Roy leading us followed by Dean, Haley, Ben, me, and then Sam holding up the rear.

“Roy, you said you did a little hunting.” Dean says, making conversation.

“Yeah, more than a little.” Roy answers, sounding quite proud.

“Uh-huh. What kind of furry critters do you hunt?” Dean keeps the convo going.

“Mostly buck, sometimes bear.”

Poor bears.

Dean passes Roy taking the lead, “Tell me, uh, Bambi or Yogi ever hunt you back?”

I laugh maybe a little too hard, I bite my bottom lip remembering the serious circumstance in which we’re here.

Roy grabs Dean, “Whatcha doing, Roy?” he asks.

Roy grabs a stick poking something behind Dean.

A loud snap rings through the quiet forest, a bear trap, Dean was one step away from walking into a bear trap.

“You should watch where you're stepping. Ranger.” Roy drops the stick, retaking the lead.

Roy drops the stick and retakes the lead as we continue hiking.

“It’s a bear trap.” Dean points out.

I catch up to him, giving him a hit on the arm looking at him with a face full of worry. Has he been in more dangerous situations than a bear trap? Yes. But I can’t help but worry, even over the stupid things.

His face softens and he gives me a smile.

Haley caught up to us immediately calling out, “You didn't pack any provisions. You guys are carrying a duffel bag. You're not rangers.”

She grabs Dean's arm, “So who the hell are you?”

Ben passes us by, Sam and I look at Dean. He gives us a look that tells us to go, that he has it covered and we do.

LATER

Roy’s leading the way still, this time the following order is Sam, Ben, me, Haley and Dean.

“This is it. Blackwater Ridge.” Roy announces

Sam passed him as he asked, “What coordinates are we at?”

Roy pulls out a GPS, answering, “Thirty-five and minus one-eleven.”

Dean goes up to Sam, catching my wrist as he goes by pulling me after him.

“You hear that?” Dean asks. We listen. Its dead quiet.

“Yeah. Not even crickets.” Sam confirms.

“I'm gonna go take a look around.” Roy announces

“You really shouldn’t go off by yourself” I warn.

“That’s sweet. Don’t worry about me” He waves his gun pushing past us to retake the lead.

Stubborn shorts man.

Dean turns back to Ben and Haley as they catch up, “All right, everybody stays together. Let's go.”

Sam, Dean, Ben, Haley and I are looking around near a particularly large rock before we hear Roy yelling for Haley.

She runs over to his voice, the rest of us following closely.

“Oh my God.” The tents are torn open and bloody, all the supplies being scattered.

“Looks like a grizzly.” Roy announces.

We all sort of break off, not far from each other, looking around for any clues or anything of the sort.

Haley begins yelling for Tommy, practically throwing her backpack down as she goes through the campsite. Sam moves to catch up to her, I don’t hear the conversation as I focus on the tracks I found. But whatever he said got her to stop yelling

I crouch to see the tracks better, getting Dean's attention as he crouches next to me before calling out for Sam. He comes over, joining our crouching party.

“The bodies were dragged from the campsite. But here” I point, “the tracks just vanish.”

“I’ll tell you what, that’s no skinwalker or black dog” Dean adds standing up, heading back to the campsite, Sam and I following.

Haley’s picked up a cell phone that I assume is Tommy’s from the blood on it. She’s hunched over on the ground crying.

Dean crouches next to her, “Hey, he could still be alive.” he says reassuringly.

“Help! Help” a sudden voice yells out. Almost in sync, our heads snap towards the direction of the voice.

Roy leads the way everyone running after him

“Help! Somebody!” the voice yells out again.

But when we reached where it was coming from there was no one around.

“It seemed like it was coming from around here, didn’t it?” Haley asks and I nod.

“Everybody back to camp” Sam orders, we obey as we run back.

All of the supplies are missing, and suddenly I'm grateful for carrying my bag with me even if it only slightly got in the way of my running.

“Our packs!” Haley yells, pointing out the obvious.

“So much for my GPS and my satellite phone.” Roy mutters.

“What the hell is going on?” Haley commands.

“It's smart. It wants to cut us off so we can't call for help.” Sam informs.

“You mean someone, some nutjob out there just stole all our gear.” Roy corrects.

Sam goes over to Dean and I as Roy goes on this ‘nutjob’ theory, “I need to speak with you, both. In private.”

We follow him a little bit away from the group, “Let me see Dad's journal.”

Dean hands it over, Sam opens it and flips through until he finds a particular page.

“All right, check that out.” Sam turns the book so we can see it better pointing to a First Nations–style drawing of a figure, more specifically a Wendigo.

“Oh come on, wendigos are in the Minnesota woods, or northern Michigan. I've never even heard of one this far west.” Dean rationalizes.

“It does make sense though. I mean the claws and especially the way it can mimic a human voice” I explained. Getting eager head nods from Sam, “Exactly” he adds.

“Great. Then this is useless” Dean sighs,taking out his pistol. Being the only way to kill a Wendigo is silver through the heart or fire.

Sam gives back the journal heading past us back to camp before stopping, “We gotta get these people to safety.”

Back at the campsite, Sam addresses the group, “All right, listen up, it's time to go. Things have gotten...more complicated.”

“What? Haley asks.

“Kid, don't worry. Whatever's out there, I think I can handle it.” Roy buds in and all I can think about is how stubborn this man is.

“It's not me I'm worried about. If you shoot this thing, you're just gonna make it mad. We have to leave. Now.” Sam ordered.

“One, you're talking nonsense. Two, you're in no position to give anybody orders.” Roy lists out.

“Relax” Dean cuts in.

“We never should have let you come out here in the first place, all right? I'm trying to protect you.” Sam says.

Roy steps up to Sam getting in his face, “You protect me? I was hunting these woods when your mommy was still kissing you good night.”

It’s then I decide I'm not going to get in the middle of this argument, seeing as this will definitely turn into a ‘who’s more macho’ sort of deal.

“Yeah? It's a damn near perfect hunter. It's smarter than you, and it's gonna hunt you down and eat you alive unless we get your stupid sorry ass out of here.” Sam challenges.

Roy laughs, “You know you're crazy, right?”

“Yeah? You ever hunt a wen—“ Dean cuts Sam off, pushing him.

“Chill out.” Dean orders.

“Stop. Stop it. Everybody just stop. Look. Tommy might still be alive. And I'm not leaving here without him.” Haley informs, and as much as it’s a stupid stubborn choice it is her brother.

There's a long pause before Dean speaks up, “It's getting late. This thing is a good hunter in the day, but an unbelievable hunter at night. We'll never beat it, not in the dark. We need to settle in and protect ourselves.”

“How?”

It’s pitch dark out now, our only source of light being the campfire that was built.

Deans drawing a Anasazi symbol, for protection, around the campsite as the rest of us are kind of just sitting around the fire.

“One more time, that’s—“ Haley asks poking at the fire

“An anasazi symbol, it’s for our protection. The wendigo can’t cross over them” I explain for at least the fifth time.

Roy laughs, holding a gun over his shoulder.

I give him a sharp gaze as Dean says, “Nobody likes a skeptic, Roy.”

Dean finishes the symbol sitting next to Sam and I, Sam being in the middle.

“You wanna tell me what's going on in that freaky head of yours?” Dean asks him

“Dean—“

But Dean cuts him off, “No, you're not fine. You're like a powder keg, man, it's not like you. I'm supposed to be the belligerent one, remember?”

Feeling as this is going to turn personal quickly, more of a family/brotherly moment that wouldn’t include me, I get up giving them a nod and a look that lets them know I'm giving them privacy. I move to sit near Haley, instead.

A few minutes have gone before suddenly someone screams and it isn’t anyone in our group, “Help me! Please!”

It’s almost most definitely the wendigo.

I see Dean stand, readying his gun as another “Help!” rings through the normally quiet woods.

Sam pulled out a flashlight, throwing one to me before flashing it around in an attempt to see if the wendigo is close by, I follow suit doing the same.

“He's trying to draw us out. Just stay cool, stay put.” Dean commands.

“Inside the magic circle?” Roy mocks.

“Jesus Christ Roy, yes!” I exclaimed, Roy getting on my nerves.

“Help! Help me” The wendigo yells, mimicking a human voice, growling following.

Roy points his gun at the sound, “Okay, that's no grizzly.”

Haley turns, talking to her younger brother, “It's okay. You'll be alright, I promise.”

Something rushes past, Haley shrieks.

“It’s here.” Sam announces.

Roy shoots the rustling, twice.

“I hit it” he yells running off to see what exactly he hit.

“Roy! No!” I yell after him

Dean turns to Haley and Ben, commanding them, “Don’t move.”

Haley grabs a stick lighting it on fire as a weapon. Dean gives me and Sam a nod, queuing us to run after Roy.

“It's over here! It's in the tree!” Roy announces.

Sam and I use our flashlights, looking to see where Roy went. But we wind up with nothing.

It’s day now, hours since Roy went missing.

Now we sit trying to explain the whole supernatural stuff we encounter.

Sam’s sitting against a tree stump holding his dads journal whilst me, Dean, Haley, and Ben are among the tents

“I don't...I mean, these types of things, they aren't supposed to be real.” Haley states.

“I wish I could tell you different.” Dean replies, half shrugging.

“You can say that again” I mumble.

“How do we know it's not out there watching us?” Haley asks

“We don't. But we're safe for now.” Dean answers.

“How do you know about this stuff?” She asks

There’s a pause where you can see the gears turning in Dean's head as he considers an answer, “Kind of runs in the family.”

“Literally” I mermer underneath my breath, we hadn’t told them I was a Witch, which was probably for the better considering we’re being hunted by a Wendigo and they had just learned that the things in the dark are real.

Sam comes over, “Hey. So we've got half a chance in the daylight. And I for one want to kill this evil son of a bitch.”

Haley stands nodding

“Well, hell, you know I'm in.” Dean answers, “Same here” I add.

Sam opens the journal to the wendigo page, turning the book around for Haley and Ben to see.

“'Wendigo' is a Cree Indian word. It means 'evil that devours'.” Sam informs.

“They're hundreds of years old. Each one was once a man. Sometimes an Indian, or other times a frontiersman or a miner or hunter.” Dean adds to the information.

“How's a man turn into one of those things?” Haley asks.

“Well, it's always the same. During some harsh winter a guy finds himself starving, cut off from supplies or help. Becomes a cannibal to survive, eating other members of his tribe or camp.” Dean answers.

“Like the Donner Party.” Ben offers.

“Nice reference” I compliment before joining in on the info train, “And, uh, cultures all over the world actually believe that eating human flesh gives a person certain abilities like speed, strength, immortality…” I trail off

“If you eat enough of it, over years, you become this less than human thing. You're always hungry.” Dean adds on.

“So if that's true, how can Tommy still be alive?” Haley points out.

“You're not gonna like it.” Dean answers simply, glancing from Sam to me then back to Haley.

“Tell me.” She orders.

“More than anything, a wendigo knows how to last long winters without food. It hibernates for years at a time, but when it's awake it keeps its victims alive. It, uh, it stores them, so it can feed whenever it wants. If your brother's alive, it's keeping him somewhere dark, hidden, and safe. We gotta track it back there.” Dean finishes.

“And then how do we stop it?” Haley asks

“Well, guns are useless, so are knives. Basically we gotta torch the sucker.” He holds up a can of lighter fluid, a beer bottle, and a white cloth aka the makings of a molotov cocktail.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean leads the group, molotov cocktail in hand, as we follow the trail of claw marks on trees and blood.

It’s a while later when Sam starts leading the group.

“Dean. Y/N”

We catch up quickly, “mhm?” I hum in question

“You know, I was thinking, those claw prints, so clear and distinct. They were almost too easy to follow.” Sam talks, pointing out the bloody broken tree branches.

“Ah fric-“ My commentary gets cut off by growling, we whip around the trees rustling.

Haley’s standing under a tree looking up, blood dripping on her. When suddenly she leaps out of the way a corpse falling to the ground with a thud.

Roy’s corpse.

“His neck's broken.” Dean announces, examining the body as Sam helps Haley up.

More growling surrounds us.

“Okay, run, run, run, run, go, go, go!” Dean yells and without a second thought we take off. The sounds of our boots hitting the soft dirt.

In the corner of my eye I see Sam retreating backwards, I stop running, turning to see if he’s okay.

Bens on the ground, getting hauled up by Sam. I head closer towards them in case the wendigo decides to show up knowing I can at the very least hold it off.

“Come on, I gotcha, I gotcha.” Sam reassures Ben, as we start running again.

A scream, noticeably Haley’s racks the forest.

“Haley” Ben asks skidding to a stop.

Sam and I stop running, noticing that Dean and Haley are nowhere to be seen.

Sam bends down picking up Deans molotov cocktail, the bottles broken.

“Dean!”

~~~~~~~~~~~

“If it keeps its victims alive, why would it kill Roy?” Ben asks, walking in front of us.

“Roys shooting probably pissed it off” I answer wrapping my arms around myself, hoping the worry in my voice isn’t apparent.

Ben leans down picking something up, turning towards us holding up a peanut m&m. He moves over revealing a trail of them, “They went this way.”

I smile, Ben hands over the m&m to Sam who laughs.

“It's better than breadcrumbs.”

He tosses the piece of chocolate away.

We follow the trial carefully, coming up to a mine entrance marked with a sign that reads

‘WARNING! DANGER! DO NOT ENTER EXTREMELY TOXIC MATERIAL.’

We all look at each other shrugging before entering.

Sam leads the way, flashlight shining ahead.

There’s a sudden growl, he quickly turns the light off pulling Ben and me against the wall.

A tall white figure with long fingers stalks towards us, Sam having to cover Ben's mouth before he screams.

The Wendigo takes a different tunnel, only just missing us.

We keep going, the floors creaking below our feet.

A particular step made the floor creak a little too much, but before I can even take another step forward the floor collapses underneath us.

I groan quietly at the hard landing, trying to contain my coughing from the dust and destroyed wood. I looked down, noticing that the hard landing was a pile of bones.

I get up swiftly feeling grossed out, Ben must have just noticed the bones as he leaps backwards. Sam helps him up as he reassuringly says, “Hey, it's okay, it's okay, it's okay.”

We look up, finding Dean and Haley hanging by their wrists from the ceiling. My eyes widen and I feel my heart physically drop. I’ve been hunting before, even with Dean a couple of times. But I've never seen him hurt, not like this, not during a hunt, not being tied up.

Sam runs to Dean, Ben to Haley.

“Y/N! Cover us?” Sam orders and I move, breaking out of my freezing. I have my back towards the others, my hands lit up with pure white energy, ready for the wendigo. I knew it wouldn’t kill it, but at least I could keep it back.

“Haley, wake up!” Ben yells and I’m tempted to turn around but I know I shouldn’t.

“Dean!” Sam yells.

“Hey, you okay?” I hear Sam ask from behind me.

I hear Dean suck in a breath behind me, “Yeah.” He grumbles.

“Haley, Haley, wake up, wake up!” Ben yells again.

In the corner of my eye I see Sam cut down Dean and then Haley, moving them to an empty patch of floor. As they move I follow, still covering them.

Dean makes a pained noise. I clench my fists, the white energy still surging around them.

“Dean, you okay?” I ask, still not turning around.

He groans in pain, “Yeah. Yep. Where is he?”

“He’s gone for now” I answer simply.

Haley runs past me to a figure hanging in the corner, she starts crying, it’s then that I know it’s Tommy.

She touches his face gently, his head jerks up and she jumps back with a shriek. She turns towards me, eyeing me and the boys behind me, I don’t make eye contact.

Not because I don’t want to help but because I don’t want her to see my eyes, knowing my irises would be purple. Stupid thing to worry about when literal energy was coming from my hands, she’d see that before my eyes. But, still, I was scared for the moment she asks what the hell was going on with me. When her or her brothers do. It’s a rooted fear that no matter how much time goes by I can’t seem to shake.

Sam heads over and cuts Tommy free.

“We’re gonna get you home” She tells him.

A hand touches my shoulder and I tense, flinching slightly, even though it felt familiar.

“Relax” Dean whispers near my ear sending a shiver down my spine.

“You don’t have to be so stiff trying to protect us, cause look what I found” He holds up two flare guns pointing to a pile in the corner full of stolen supplies.

“Flare guns. Those’ll work” Sam says grinning.

Dean laughs and twirls the guns in his hands, and I can’t help the smile that makes its way onto my face.

We head down the tunnel Dean and Sam in the lead with their flare guns as I keep to the rear of the group.

“Looks like someone's home for supper.” Dean comments at the growling we heard.

“We’ll never outrun it” Haley points out.

Dean looks back at us, “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Sam answers and I nod.

“All right, listen to me. Stay with Sam and Y/N. They’re gonna get you out of here.” Dean plans.

“What are you gonna do?” Haley asks Dean.

He winks, walking and yelling, “Chow time, you freaky bastard! Yeah, that's right, bring it on, baby, I taste good.”

Sam waits until Dean is a safe distance away, “All right, come on! Hurry!”

The Collinses follow him down the tunnel, as I continue to hold down the rear.

We hurry down the tunnel before we hear more growling.

Sam points the gun in the direction, then lowers it turning to the Collinses.

“Get him outta here” He orders

“Sam, no”

“Go! Y/N get them outta here, Go!” he orders

I turned to the family making sure I no longer was using my powers as I pushed them out of there.

A moment later I hear Sam running after us, catching up, “Come on, hurry, hurry, hurry” he says, and I let him get in front of me as we reach the end of the tunnel.

I half turn to see the wendigo right behind us. I pivot the rest of the way around, quickly letting my hands light back up with energy during the half second that I moved.

I move my hands in front of me throwing a large energy blast right at the tall white creature, sending it a few feet back knocking it into a tree (the one that got in the way of it getting thrown further).

“Get behind me.” Sam tells the Collinses, hiding them behind himself as I stay in front of him.

The Wendigo approaches again and I throw it back again, a little harder this time.

I keep my hand in front of me, still lit with white energy as I bring my other hand down, flicking it swiftly, conjuring a flare gun into my hand.

I let the wendigo stalk a little closer before I raise my hand with the gun, I aim, pulling the trigger.

Just as Dean comes up a foot behind the wendigo, pulling his trigger.

The flare I shot goes off first, Deans following a second later. The wendigo goes up in flames.

“Teamwork” Dean says grinning at me.

I huff a laugh.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An ambulance loads up Tommy, two police officers interview Ben as Sam stands behind him.

“So…what was that whole thing back there with you” Haley asks me hands in her pockets, her and Dean both already patched up.

“I, oh, um…I’m a witch” I answer, feeling as if I'm shrinking inside myself. Telling people has never been a part I enjoy much.

“You're in the journal?” She asks

“I mean not me specifically but witches, yes. Most witches aren’t good, quite the opposite really…” I tail off looking down, feeling uncomfortable.

“Thank you.” She says leaning her head down to catch my eyes before adding, “I don’t know how to thank you guys.”

I just smile at her, glad to have helped but also glad to have moved away from the awkward conversation.

But when I look over to Dean, he’s smirking lasciviously.

“Whelp that’s my que to leave.” I announce, not wanting to know her answer. I turn around, heading to the Impala, a certain stabbing feeling echoes in my heart and I know it must be jealousy.

Which is stupid because 1. it’s not like me and Dean are even together, and 2. Dean does not like me in any sort of romantic way.

“Must you cheapen the moment” I hear Haley comment as I walk away, leaning on the hood of the Impala.

A minute or so later Sam joins me, and then Dean.

“Man, I hate camping.” Dean remarked

“Me too.”

“Amen.”

“You know we're gonna find Dad, right?” Dean asks, and I know the question is for Sam.

“Yeah, I know. But in the meantime? I'm driving.” Sam says all proudly.

Dean tosses him the keys smiling widely

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #john winchester #dean winchester x reader #supernatural x reader #slow burn #wendigo #forest #fanfiction #fanfic #the hunter and the witch

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ilguna · 1 year

Text

☼ runs in the family (Johanna Mason) ☼

summary; lately you've been flirting with Cashmere, and Johanna can't watch anymore.

warnings; swearing, death mention, hints at prostitution, weird little sister idolization for a second.

wc; 3.4k

notes: reader is finnick’s sister.

–

The biggest problem you have with being Finnick’s younger sister, is the fact that you pick up on his behavior and make it yours as well. It doesn’t sound so bad at first, maybe you’re just idolizing him, because that’s what younger siblings do. Except, you two are grown adults now, and it shouldn’t be that way anymore.

When your parents were alive, they used to encourage the behavior by saying that you and Finnick were meant to be twins, with how similar you were. Everything he did, you were right behind him. For the longest time, he loathed your existence, and didn’t bother hiding it, either. To him, there was nothing worse than being constantly compared to his younger sister, of all people.

It only got worse from there. You got enrolled into District Four’s Private Academy at the same time that he did. Which meant that you were in the same classes as him, despite being two years younger. He got the achievement of being the top of the class with boys, and you followed a couple of days later with the girls.

It got so bad to the point where he stopped speaking to you unless he had to.

You have to admit, there were a few times where you begged to be with Finnick, because he was the only person you could trust. You didn’t have many friends your age, because Finnick’s friends were yours. On the other hand, you used to go blue in the face telling your parents that Finnick hated you because they insisted you be attached at the hip.

Finnick got reaped at fourteen, of course. He won the title of the youngest victor ever. As well as the biggest sponsor gift in history. He came back from the Capitol, traumatized but triumphant over the fact that he could finally be differentiated from you. He started talking to you again, because you two were no Cashmere and Gloss. You didn’t care, you didn’t want to be important like them.

Finnick got to be in the spotlight without you having the chance of taking it over, and you were forced to focus on your studies if you even wanted a sliver of your parents' attention. It was a heavy trade-off, because everything fell back onto you to be successful too. Not quite in the same way, but they didn’t want you to give up solely because he was a victor.

The year Finnick turned sixteen was a hard year for you. It started off that way, because you hit Finnick’s age when he was reaped. And while you were suffering from nightmares, your parents filled every free hour of your day with the Private Academy or studying at school. You were exhausted.

Finnick wasn’t even on the train for an hour before you got into a fight with them over it, tired of the pressure to succeed when that’s all you’ve ever done in your life.

That was the last conversation you ever had with them. You left the house for two days, something you’d never done before, but you couldn’t face them. When you came home, they were nowhere to be seen. You waited hours and hours for them to return, and still, they were gone.

No one in Victor’s Village had an idea of what happened. No one on the way to the Justice Building had a single clue. The Mayor of Four completely shut you down and threatened to arrest you if you pursued the matter any further, sending you home.

You spent three weeks alone in that house, struggling to preserve any sense of normalcy, terrified that you were going to be taken by the Mayor, since he knew that you were by yourself. It didn’t even dawn on you that he must’ve had some part in their disappearance when he sent you away. You were worried about the two most important people in your life gone.

You were doing things that you never had to do before. You didn’t usually cook for yourself in the first place, so you were left with easy meals that you had been eating before his win. The problem is, with Finnick’s money, they stopped buying food like that, which brought in a whole new issue. You’d never had to go buy groceries before.

You spent three days trying to find any cash whatsoever, unaware of the fact that Finnick’s Victor ID was in the top drawer in the kitchen, and would pay for anything you asked for. You were starving, and ended up at one of the other Victors’ houses, in full-blown hysterics because you couldn’t handle it anymore.

Everyday you woke up and wished that Four’s tributes would die quicker, because that meant Finnick would come home. He would be able to take care of you, and understood where everything was. He would have a clue as to what happened.

When Finnick came home, he shut you out. He spent days locked alone in his bedroom, denying any idea as to what happened to your parents, refusing to talk to you once again. You knew he was lying to you, he wasn’t trying to hide it either. Your parents were gone, not a single trace as to where they’d gone, and he decided you didn’t need to hear why.

After a month of pestering him for an answer, you stopped. You couldn’t do it anymore, with the stress of everything hitting you at once, you gave up. Finnick must’ve thought that you’d forgiven him, when really you didn’t. You were angry with him beyond words, and you punished him the same way that he punished you: you stopped talking to him entirely.

You pushed him away, and kept it like that for the next year. He tried to take up your parents’ role in the house to make up for their absence. He made breakfast, lunch and dinner. He walked you from your school to the Private Academy, where he was forced to work for the next few years. He cleaned your clothes, and restocked your bathroom items, and he kept trying to make up for it.

You had a whole year to plan how you were going to get back at him for the final time, because you refused to be with Finnick for the rest of your life if he was going to lie to you and treat you like a baby. The only answer you came up with in the end was the one that would likely kill you.

You volunteered for the Hunger Games at fifteen.

At the time, there was a part of you that wished you would die inside of the arena, to punish Finnick for the very last time. You would be the last person taken away from him, by your own choice. And he would be forced to live with it for the rest of his life. Alone.

Just like how you were for almost two months.

Finnick wasn’t mad. You would say that he was extremely upset with you on the train to the Capitol. All you could do was taunt him. What was he going to do about it? It was too late to go back. You told him that he had two choices—he could tell you what happened to your parents and what caused them to be taken away, in which case you’d fight to come home. Or he could continue to treat you the way he was, and you’d let the Games play out the way they always do.

He was less than thrilled with your existence before you were reaped, but he didn’t leave you alone for a second when he was mentoring you. By then, he was seventeen. He’d had three years to perfect the way he mentors, and there wasn’t a chance in hell that he was going to let his little sister die inside of the arena.

Well, Finnick wasn’t going to let you act that way and get what you wanted at the same time. He told you to figure it out yourself. Which meant that there was a way to find out without asking him about it.

You spent the week analyzing his behavior, how odd it was that he’d leave the apartment frequently but Mags never did the same thing. The times he’d come home, how late in the night it would be. The night of the interviews, you managed to get Mags alone. It wasn’t for long, less than five minutes.

From the very first second to the last, you spent the entire time spewing terrible theories about your brother and what he could be doing when he went out. You figured out earlier in the week that Mags liked to be correct sometimes, which meant that at the end of the conversation, she corrected you. She told you what Finnick was really doing.

You had never felt so much regret in your life like you did at that moment. On the same token, you couldn’t believe that Finnick would keep something so vital from you.

Since, there’s been several times that while you were in the arena, he’d say he wished how much he could be in there with you, to protect you. He’s grateful that they don’t let victors volunteer to go in again. If he had, one of you would be dead today, and the other would be living without them.

As much as you know Finnick was wishing he’d be able to save you from the horrors of the Capitol post-victory, it wasn’t realistic. There might not have been any family for Snow to kill, but you had other people you loved. Your friends, your neighbors, and the people who took care of you and Finnick after your parents were gone.

It’s a shame, being sucked into Finnick’s personal vortex.

Lately, you’ve picked up on something you swore you never would—his stupid casanova personality. It’s like he automatically defaults to flirting with people when he talks to them. You started off by making fun of him, because you wanted him to knock it off. It was weird to watch for a while, especially since that is not the same version of Finnick that you know.

However, he ended up telling you it’s because that’s how he’s supposed to act with these people. A young ladies man. As for you, you’re his cute little sister. Gross.

You honestly thought you had him figured out because he uses it to his benefit sometimes, whether he realizes it or not. It might have started off as an act because the people here need to see him that way, but it’s turned into a manipulation tactic.

When you found out, you couldn’t believe he didn’t use it to get leverage on people, to flatter them and get what he wants. So, you started doing the same thing. So, in the end, it’s your fault that you picked up on this, but really, it’s funny how people react when they’re being flirted with. It’s like being seen as desirable away from the Capitol’s standards is a new high. It’s a form of validation, especially with the victors you work with every year. Like Cashmere, for example.

If you flirt with her, or the other career mentors, they’re more likely to team up with you for the sponsors. You get to be on the good side with the people around you, and your tributes get taken care of. It’s a win-win situation.

“Has anyone ever told you how beautiful your hair is?” You ask, leaning into the table.

Cashmere looks at you through her eyelashes, a smile coming over her face, “I used to.”

“People don’t tell you anymore?” You gasp, “Your curls are so natural and cute.”

She shrugs, “Guess they’re not my biggest quality now.”

“It must be your smile that won over, then.” You wink, Cashmere rolls her eyes, but her smile doesn’t leave her face. “What are you doing after this? Have any plans?”

“No, I was thinking about going out to lunch with Gloss.” She looks over at him. He’s sitting at a different table with Enobaria. Finnick was over there for a while, but you can see that Johanna’s come into the Betting Room. He’ll choose her over anyone nowadays.

“Oh, where?” You raise your eyebrows, “Got room for two more?”

“You and Finnick? What is this, a sibling lunch?” She laughs, “I mean, we’re thinking of going to the new restaurant that opened down the street. It’s all cold stuff, like sandwiches and salads. Do you think he’d be interested?”

“Finnick doesn’t care, as long as it’s edible.”

She shakes her head, “Gloss too, I really don’t know how they do it.”

“You’re telling me.”

Cashmere reaches up to play with her earring, “I’ll let Gloss know, I’m sure he doesn’t mind.”

“Neither will Finnick,” You agree, scooting back.

“Does one work well for you?” She asks, getting to her feet.

“Sounds like a date to me.” You wiggle your eyebrows, biting your lip.

You can see her cheeks flush red before she turns away, heading toward the other table. You wave to Enobaria and Gloss before going to Finnick, who’s suddenly standing alone.

“Hey, I was just talking to Cashmere about all of us going out to lunch this afternoon,” You cross your arms. “Where’d Johanna go?”

“She got upset.” Finnick’s eyebrows twitch, “And who’s ‘all of us’?”

“Siblings, no Enobaria or Johanna.” You say.

“Oh, I’m sure she’ll love that.” He makes a face before turning to the Line Odds board.

“What does that mean? Who are you talking about?” You ask, moving around him so that he has to look at you. “Johanna? Why would she care?”

“She cares about a lot, haven’t you noticed?” He asks.

“No, not really. It’s Johanna, I thought she could give a rat’s ass.”

He makes a face, “Well, not when it comes to you.”

You stand in silence, staring at him for a long minute, trying to figure out what he must mean. Sure, you and Johanna are friends, but that’s the extent of it. You think that the two of you could be closer, if she lets you be, but she holds you at arms-length no matter how hard you try. There’s been times where you’ve tried to get to know her more, and she’ll shut you down. It’s almost like Finnick has something to do with it, because she’s his only friend.

However, if he’s mentioning it like this, then that can’t be the case.

“You can’t say that and leave it that way.” You tell him.

“Really, I can.” He makes a face at you, “I’m older.”

Oh, he wants to go there?

“And you have a bad track history when it comes to secrets.” You say, knowing full well he doesn’t like it when you use this against him. You’re referencing your parents each time, and he’s told you that you might as well say it instead of beating around the bush. You like to rub salt next to the wound, not directly in it. It means it can’t be your fault if it gets inside. “Tell me.”

“Johanna likes you, idiot.” He says, “Happy?”

You can feel your face fall. No, you’re not happy. In fact, you’re not entirely sure how he expected you to know this information, much less react to it. All you’re doing it going out to lunch with Cashmere and Gloss, you’re not sure why she would take it the wrong way.

Johanna likes you?

Finnick can tell you’re lost, “You’ve been flirting with Cashmere for the past hour. She saw you do it.”

“She knows that I don’t actually like her.” You wave him off, looking over at Cashmere, Enobaria and Gloss.

How can Johanna like you when she never lets you get close enough? It’s different for you, you hear about her everyday of the week and then more. You’re fairly sure you know more about herself than she knows about you, at this point. Even when you go back home, Finnick will continue to talk about her throughout the rest of the year. He sprinkles details about her every now and then because he knows it drives you up the wall.

He knows how badly you want to get her alone, and she won’t let it happen. And he won’t tell her that because he thinks it’s some game. Another person that he has that you never can—just you taking away his spotlight again. He’s afraid that if you really do start dating her, then he’ll never get to see the same side of her ever again, much less get time with her.

You begin to grind your teeth, pressing your lips together. Johanna can’t possibly like you. This has got to be Finnick messing with you again.

When Finnick doesn’t say a word to confirm what you said, you let out a sigh through your nose, “Where’d she go?”

“She left to go back to her room.” He tells you, “She’s probably gone by now.”

“She has a tendency to hang out in the hallway for a minute to calm down.” You tell him, starting toward the exit doors, “You’d know that if you paid more attention.”

“Or maybe you pay too much attention!” He shouts back.

You ignore him, leaving the Betting Room and heading down the first hallway. How long has Finnick known that Johanna likes you? What has he been telling her in response? That you do like other people? Or that he doesn’t know for sure?

Sure enough, as soon as you round the corner into the second hallway, you find Johanna. She’s running a hand through her hair, and she doesn’t bother to look at you at first. When she does, she makes a noise.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You ask, not wanting to start with what Finnick said. There’s been a few times where he’s fucked with you because he knows it’ll get you stuck in a rabbit hole that you’ll wish you’d never jumped down in the first place. It’s better to hear what he said from Johanna, herself. “I saw you left. Are you okay?”

“You and Cashmere seem very close.” She says, you blink, surprised that she’d start so strong. “Didn’t take you as a career-lover.”

“Well, yeah. Her and I are friends.”

“Friends.” She echoes, “Friends flirt with each other?”

She’s upset. She’s really upset if she’s not even bothering to hide her feelings like that. You shake your head at her, “I wasn’t flirting.”

“Right.” She nods, rolling her eyes, “Because it didn’t come off that way or anything. I heard you’re going out to lunch together?”

You squint at her, “I’m confused as to why you care so much. I’ve offered to get lunch with you before. The difference between you and her—”

“Is that I actually like you, and she doesn’t give a shit!” She shouts, “She’s not even into girls!”

You stare at Johanna, genuinely speechless for the first time in your life. You never thought that you’d find yourself in this position, much less with Johanna.

“So it’s true.” You manage to get out.

“What’s true?” She sighs, crossing her arms.

“Finnick told me you liked me.” You raise your eyebrows, “And it’s true.”

You watch her think for a moment, before her entire expression shifts into anger, “He told you?”

“Yeah, and I came out to make sure, before I did something stupid,” You say, smirking slightly, “Like this.”

You cup Johanna’s face, bringing her lips to yours. The moment they touch, you can feel your stomach skyrocket into your mouth, almost in denial that you’ve just done this. Her lips are soft, and warm, and you can feel the heat slam into your face. Johanna almost pulls away, before she presses into you, kissing you back.

When you take a step back, you brush a strand of hair out of her face.

“I didn’t think…” She trails off.

“I don’t like Cashmere.” You tell her, “I like you. And you would’ve known sooner, if you actually let me talk to you.”

“It won’t happen again.” She breathes, her eyes on your lips.

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silverskye13 · 2 years

Text

Etho stumbled onto the beach, tired, sore, hungry, and one moment of weakness away from calling Tango and begging for mercy. Sure, the whole exile thing had been his idea. Sure, it had all gone downhill at approximately the same intervals he thought it would. And sure, he'd feel really, really stupid for making Tango help him dig himself into this hole only to whine to be dug out again, but who could blame him? Life in exile was hard.

Everything that could possibly go wrong had gone wrong, he couldn't get a moment of peace with all the half-panicked villagers milling around, and his gear was half busted. There were raids too. Death after death to vexes and evokers lost in the caverns. Dragging himself through mud and water and gravel just to trudge back up to the villager bell and have no clue where the final raiders were. Ravagers pitching him off the cliff at every other turn...

Etho sighed dramatically and sprawled out in the sand, letting himself sink body and soul into self pity and misery. His communicator was a brick in his pocket, taunting him with its presence. It stuck to his thigh with the uncomfortable, matted grasp of wet fabric. He was well and truly soaked after his last climb through the caverns, and his clothes clung to him like a second skin, salted with sweat and blotted with blood from cuts and scrapes. A crossbow bolt, broken at the shaft, pinned his belt against his chainmail. The tip of the bolt pricked him uncomfortably, worrying the bruise that had formed around its impact; though it was rendered nonlethal by the stubborn mail he was wearing, it still hurt. Laying in the sand like he was, he was just adding more grit to the mix, more minor inconveniences to add straws of weight to the almost-broken back of his resistance. More to scrub and clean and dwell on later, while he contemplated giving up.

The sky above was cloudless and brimming with stars.

Etho watched the tiny points of light flicker, and mapped the planets that didn't. His single player world was up there somewhere. So were all the other Hermitcrafts he'd been to - and those he hadn't. It was weird knowing he could chart his presence in the universe with points of light. There had been a long time, before so many worlds formed and fought into being, that he had charted his existence by thoughts and impulses and idle curiosity. Ethoslab - void first, player afterthought. He couldn't really pinpoint the moment he chose physicality, he only knew that he had, and had yet to un-choose it.

There was so much more of him. He was so much bigger than this little peninsula of shoreline. So much bigger than pesky ravagers, peskier villagers. He could give up and just recede back up there into the stars, bid farewell to Season 9. He'd started late anyway. Imposed a barrier he had too much trouble crossing. No one would blame him if he simply unspooled himself into the aether and rested for a while. For a season. Maybe two. The hermits were understanding like that. It was one of the things that made them mortal - the ability to empathize and understand.

Not that Etho couldn't do either of those things. It just took effort, like climbing uphill through a water stream. Like running from waves of vex summoned by a hidden evoker. He thought maybe his exile would help with that: the effort to pretend to be mortal. The effort to understand things the way they did, relate the way they did. To enjoy their company the way they enjoyed his.

No one would blame him if he decided he was too tired. They couldn't. It wasn't in their nature.

Etho blinked up at his stars, his universe, the pieces of him he'd left behind places where he tried his hardest to be player first, void second. He should make a decision. He should reach into his pocket and call Tango. Or he should drag himself to his feet and soldier on.

Or he could just sleep on the beach here. Sure he'd wake up cold and sandy, but hey, the sound of the waves was nice. It was a steady rhythm, the water muttering incomprehensible secrets to the sand and shells. He timed his breathing with the rolling surf, watched the sky, and tried to live in a single moment. His skin itched where it touched the sand. His scalp crawled where the water in his hair dried. He closed his eyes and sighed, bearing his discomforts as best he could.

He didn't fall asleep. He was lulled to the edge of it, maybe. His breath evened out. His thoughts spun towards nonexistence. His body was weighted with the feeling of sinking through the ground, through his subconscious into comfortable oblivion. Then, with every rush of the waves, wakefulness returned for him like a stray dog - meandering and lazy, but brutally persistent.

He was dragged awake alongside the presence of... something. He couldn't place it at first, so hazy in his exhaustion that he measured it as his own wakefulness at first. As he sat up in the sand though, he found whatever it was out there was distinct from himself. It was a great unspooling of something, a system of thought and presence in the water. The horizon was alight with it, a pale pseudo-sunrise that pulsed like heat rays off the surface of the water. Its consciousness brushed his, extended as he had been, and he felt the edges of something vast, fathomless, deep and drowning. It was cold in that crushing way the depth of the ocean is cold, a sunless dark smothered by water and distance, alight only by the predatory longing to feed. It was sharp-toothed, patient as a mountain in the breath before an avalanche, and when it brushed by him, it grinned.

The waves arced higher, roared, raced and crashed. White sea foam curled up the beach towards him, electrified by the thought and will that compelled it. Brightly colored fish, tinged silver-grey by the night, darted from them, roiling the water in great pulses and ripples. Entire schools of them fled the water, leaping into the sky as though driven by some great predator, backlit by that yellow phosphorescence in the deep that Etho recognized as eyes. Dozens of gazes trained in his direction, their lights spilling together. The sea boiled. The thing was nearing the shore. As it approached, it made itself familiar. Dark depths of frigid presence condensed and warmed themselves. Bright eyes winked out one after another until only two remained, unsettlingly bright, but human in their proportion. The crashing waves soothed, returning to a gentle rolling against the shore, and with each beat forward, they pulled this thing, now a him, towards dry land.

xB crawled out of the water with all the clumsy effort and strength of the first amphibians sniffing for shore in the times before history. His clothes were soaked. His hair was streaked with sand and kelp. His hands were planted firmly in his pockets. If not for all the sea water, and the hint of scales and gills like lace around his throat, he could have just strolled out of a building in the shopping district.

"Hullo," xB said anticlimactically, grinning with teeth that looked as though they couldn't decide how human they should be. They were situated in simple, straight rows, but the gums were too pale, and the white bone too sharp.

"Hey xB," Etho squinted his eyes, the closest to a smile he had to get with the mask on. It saved him the effort of trying to figure out how to arrange his face for human interaction. "Out fishing?"

xB chuckled, tilting his head to the side to let some trapped water out of his ear. It was just a few more indistinguishable drops to add to the damp ring of sand around his feet. "Maybe. You out star gazing?"

"I'm in exile."

"Ah. I see. So that’s why you’re so far out here,” xB shook his head, scattering water and sand from his hair. If the action was meant to dry him at all, it didn’t help. He sat down beside Etho, and the smell of salt and fish misted off of him in waves. “Should I leave?”

“I feel like you’re not going to,” Etho chuckled, laying back in the sand. He crossed his arms behind his head and gazed up at the sky, re-charting points of light he’d already mapped a thousand times in his head. “What brings you all the way out here?”

“I needed a vacation,” xB sighed and stretched, and bones that hadn’t existed a few minutes ago popped and cracked along his spine. “I love all those guys dearly, really I do, but they’re all so…” He trailed off, trying to find the right words. Finally he settled on, “... human.”

Etho nodded.

“They move too fast, and they work too big,” xB explained, as though he had to. “There’s so much emotionality going on there. I needed to just be…” he gestured vaguely to the ocean, conveying some other indescribable thing he was having trouble putting into words, “... you know. For a little while.”

“I get it,” Etho hummed, blinking skyward. He and xB were a lot alike, all things considered. The deep ocean and its half-life sentience, and the void and its time-damned knowingness, felt similar from time to time. To sensitive hands, both ice and liquid nitrogen felt cold. There were generous differences between the two things, but cold wasn’t one of them. “Well, don’t stop on my account.”

“I’m stopping on my account,” xB chuckled, even though there wasn’t much to laugh at. “I don’t wanna get lost in it, yanno? Ya’ll wouldn’t see me for the rest of the season.”

Etho nodded wordlessly.

“Unless,” xB said slowly, smirking down at him with bright eyes, “that was a really subtle way of telling me to shove off.”

Etho feigned hurt, placing a hand over his chest and raising his eyebrows, “xB! I would never--”

“Oh I see right through you, spaceman,” xB laughed. “Putting the hermit in hermitcraft out here. I see how it is.”

xB didn’t move to stand, but then again, that was the nature of the ocean. The surf didn’t leave the cliff because it wanted some alone time. It dug in and chipped away, until it had all the bones of the earth powdered to sand. So xB didn’t leave, and Etho didn’t try to make him. The void was more of a watcher than an actor anyway, and he could outlast xB’s patience. That wasn’t a sea-void metaphor, that was just them.

“I’m guessing you’re out here for the same reasons I am, then?” xB pressed on, heedless of Etho’s silence. “It takes some adjustment, but the exile’s a little extreme. I prefer full immersion myself.”

“I thought about not joining,” Etho hummed, finding a planet to fix his eyes on. It was a vaguely reddish light in the sky. “I’m joining late as it is.”

“Better late than never?” xB remarked, testing the waters with him, trying to figure out what he needed to hear. Or maybe he was just trying to make conversation. It was an odd little language barrier between them - two strange consciousnesses, one of void one of sea, conversing through the only experience they shared, pretending to be human. It was a language neither of them were the best at, but they tried regardless.

“It's hard, xB," Etho told him, like he needed the reminder. "My body is awkward, I hate pain, and you're right, they're all so much all the time. I'm nothing. So much of me is just distant points of light and quiet moments."

"You're an airhead," xB concluded for him inelegantly.

Etho chuckled, "Only sometimes."

"Fill it with redstone then. You're good at that."

"Redstone burns," Etho told him. "I'm not ready to burn yet. I can barely do noise."

"Aren't stars loud?" xB asked him. "I feel like giant burning balls of gas are probably loud."

"Is the bottom of the ocean loud?"

xB tilted his head thoughtfully, like the question had never really occurred to him. "Define loud?"

"Human loud. Like noise."

"The bottom of the ocean probably just sounds like your eardrums bursting, then."

"The void is quiet until you touch something."

xB wrinkled his nose, "But you're always touching something."

"There's not enough something in the void to touch."

"Should be full of water."

"Water is rare."

xB hissed unpleasantly, a disgusted sound that he wasn't quite human enough to make normal. It sounded too much like the charge before a guardian strike. "Water is life."

"Life is rare, and we'd make some mortal philosophers cringe."

The two of them chuckled, because they were talking nonsense - two immortal things pretending they knew mortal concepts like life and rarity. It was funny; pleasantly distracting. It was a distraction that only lasted until they were silent.

Etho looked up at the sky and sighed. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, xB.”

The sound of the ocean filled the silence between them, calm and steady without xB stirring it up. Etho could imagine it was xB’s heartbeat, constant and droning, an unstoppable rhythm. Etho didn’t have a heartbeat. The vibrations of the universe were random and distant, and many of them weren’t even his to claim. They were worlds and broadcasts, and advanced communicators sending data and coding across lightyears of distance.

Etho allowed himself a moment to think, really, he was quite lonely. Even sitting beside someone he should have every reason to relate to. And if he had trouble even seeing bits of himself in xB, well, there really wasn’t much hope for him this season, was there? It was a gloomy thought, but it wasn’t a new one. Yes… maybe rest was his best option after all. Like starting a new day, just a few years from now. What was time, really, to someone made of timelessness? The hermits would understand.

“You ever stop and think how cool it is,” xB spoke slowly, gazing up at the sky, picking his words with the same care that astronomers identified planets, “that we live in a universe where, in its two darkest, most desperate places, there are stars?”

Etho sat up slowly, peering out at the ocean. He could see the stars in the sky reflected in smears of light on the water. He got the distinct feeling, though, that they weren’t what xB was talking about. "You mean starfish?"

xB nodded, smirking, like he was aware it was a bit ridiculous. "The deepest oceans I've ever swam, there have always been starfish. Like deep, deep down, where the water's so heavy it sits on your chest like it hates you. They crawl around down there, tenacious little guys. Almost as tenacious as stars making themselves in nebulas, and burning up and making worlds, and burning those up too."

Etho smiled, "Are you giving me a pep-talk, xB?"

"Oh definitely not. It's only a pep-talk if I walk enigmatically into the ocean afterwards," xB stood and stretched, loose sand falling from his clothes and dusting the top of Etho's head. "I'll see you in a few days then, when your exile is over?"

He asked it like it was a real question. Like he didn't already know the answer. Etho shrugged, "Maybe."

xB graced him with one more chuckle, followed by a lazy salute, "Good luck, Etho."

xB walked into the water, shedding his humanity with every step. It seemed less like he disappeared into the water and more like he diffused into it, a collection of thoughts and ideas that colored the surface like spilled oil before melting into the tide and vanishing. Etho watched the place he vanished, watched the breaking of dawn start to lighten the sky on the farthest horizon. One star, then two, then three disappeared into the sunlight. Etho sighed, stood, stretched out his back and felt every pop and ache in his spine as he did so.

"Tenacious as the stars, huh?" Etho asked the ocean in front of him.

He got back to work.

#the barking writer #ethoslab #etho #xbcrafted #void creature etho #sentient ocean horror xbcrafted #once again i force a convergence with two of my headcanons #anyway this is 100% inspired by the fact that I watched Blue Planet with my sister last night #and i did say the quote outloud: isnt it wonderful we live in a world where in its darkest places there are stars #no i dont just wax poetic in fics for the low price of my friendship i will say dumb shit to you in real time

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drewsbuzzcut · 1 year

Text

Something For The Pain And Something So I Sleep

mat barzal x model!fem!reader

a visceral in doses blurb

warnings: slight angst, tito getting traded

You were barely finishing washing your face when you heard the rapid, loud knocks on your front door. You weren’t expecting anyone over and it was late at night, so you really had no clue who it could be. Quickly drying your face, you hurry to the door and when you open it, you’re surprised to see a distressed mat. He immediately walks in once the door is opened and starts pacing. His hands are buried in his hair, his face is flushed, and his bottom lip is tucked between his teeth. You see him shut his eyes tightly while his mouth keeps opening and closing, but before you could ask what was wrong, he was already ranting, “tito is leaving!”

You can tell that his breathing is heavy just by the way his chest is rapidly rising and falling. His eyes are watery; he was about to start crying. You were extremely confused because he hadn’t called you before he made his way over- not that it mattered, and when you talked to him earlier today, he seemed perfectly fine. You walk up to him and place your hands on his cheeks, trying to get him to calm down by having him focus on your face.

“Tito is gone! I don’t even know how to process this! I- I- I don’t know what to do,” he keeps blurting out.

“Barzy,” you try to get his attention.

“I can’t believe he’s gone,” he says.

“Barzy!” You try again.

“He’s my best friend! It’s going to feel so weird now,” he continues.

“Maty!” You finally get him attention.

His breathing is erratic and his face is even more red. The tears that were once filling his eyes are now flowing down his cheeks. The tear tracks left behind are enough to break your heart. You have never seen mat so upset, and you have never even seen him cry. This was new to you. Hell, all of this was new. You had only been dating for a little over a month, so you really didn’t know how to handle this situation. All you knew you needed to do was give him a hug. A hug that hopefully dulled out any of the pain he was feeling. When you pull back from the hug, he has his eyes closed like he’s afraid of you seeing him cry.

“Babe,” you say while guiding his head to lean on your chest, holding onto him for dear life.

“I’m sorry for just showing up,” he apologizes.

“No need to be sorry. You know you can come over at anytime.”

You can still tell that he has a lot more that he needs to get off his chest, so you drag him to your restroom and sit him on the closed toilet, letting him have the chance to rant while you finished up your nighttime skincare routine.

“Start from the beginning and tell me everything because I’m really confused,” you tell him as you start applying your serums and moisturizers.

“Beau got traded,” he mumble dejectedly.

You freeze. You were not expecting that, but mat’s mumbles from your entry way make a lot more sense now. You turn to face mat and he looks so sad. You let your hand rub his head, hoping to soothe him.

“He’s going to Vancouver, and I don’t know this just doesn’t feel real,” he adds.

“Oh my god. I can’t believe that. That’s insane,” you give your thoughts.

“Yeah. He still had like a year left in his contract with the isles. I don’t know how they could just trade him,” he’s starting to get bothered rather than sad.

“I’m sorry, babe. I know it sucks, but it’s business and I know that’s not what you want to hear, but I need you to know that these things happen,” you say as coherent as possible as you’re brushing your teeth.

“It’s a shit business. He has to pick up his whole life in one day. It’s not fair.” He blurts.

“I’ve spent so much time with him. We’ve gone through so many milestones and lessons together; I don’t know how to adjust to him not being here. It sounds silly, but it’s how I feel,” he finishes.

You nod your head, silently agreeing with how he feels. You know there’s not much you can say, so you just reassure him.

“It’s not silly. Your feelings are valid, and I’m thankful that you’re comfortable enough to share them with me,” you state as you finish off your routine with some lip balm. You then move to stand in front of mat; his hands going straight to rub the backs of your thighs while yours caress his cheeks.

“Thank you for listening. I hope I didn’t ruin your night,” mat says with his head down, feeling bad that he just barged in without warning.

“I already told you, I don’t care that you’re here. I’m glad, actually,” you let him know before you start applying lip balm to his own lips. He sometimes forgets to use lip balm, and the way he was biting his lips in nervousness was even more of a reason for him to be wearing some.

“How about… you stay with me tonight,” you offer hesitantly. Like you said, everything was still fresh in this relationship. You didn’t want to push any boundaries and make him uncomfortable. If he did end up spending the night, this would be the first time you slept together.

“Are you sure? Don’t feel like you have to because I came over in a bad state,” he says.

You shake your head and lean down to kiss his lips.

“Stay the night, please,” you beg. You want him to know that you’re there for him, always.

He nods his head and stands up, waiting for you to guide him into your room.

“Is it okay if I sleep in my underwear since… I don’t have any clothes?” He questions, cheeks blushing.

You let out a small giggle at his bashfulness and tell him that it was fine.

You go around your apartment making sure everything was shut down and that your cat had food and water for the night. When you got back to your room, mat was already tucked under the sheets, blanket all the way up to his chin. He looked childlike. The moment your body hit the bed, he was reaching for your hand to leave kisses on your knuckles. You both laid side by side, letting the dark and silent space bring you down from the long day you’ve both had.

“Did you get to say goodbye?” You ask the question that you had been wondering about the answer to.

“Yeah. Briefly,” he mumbles. You just nod in response.

You let a few minutes pass and then you tell him to turn on his side so that his back is facing you, and you spoon him. You feel his body melt like all his worries and fears evaporated into the air. You press kiss after kiss onto the back of his neck. You just wanted to be close to him. Your hand strokes up and down his chest, and when you feel his breath even out, you’re finally at peace. It doesn’t take you long for your body to get heavy and for sleep to pull you under. One last peck to mat’s bare shoulder blade, and you’re out for the night.

#mat barzal #mat barzal blurb #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fic #mat barzal fluff #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal smut #nhl imagine #nhl fic #new york islanders

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donotpush · 1 year

Note

Giving birth while stuck in a window

A/N: not technically stuck in a window, I guess?

Imagine a heavily pregnant window cleaner, his belly hanging low and heavy inside his blue work overall.

As stubborn (and a little bit in denial of his condition) every single time that the topic of his pregnancy is brought into the conversation, always full of comments like don't you think it's time for paternity leave already? he would act as if the fact that he was so knocked up was a casual inconvenience, something that he could get rid of any moment now.

He would act as if his growing belly didn't become a burden as the months went by, he refused to get a new overall when he started to fit tight on it, his gravid belly stretching the fabric to the maximum and threatening to burst the buttons at the smallest wrong movement.

Even his coworkers actively tried to stop him from getting on the bosun's chair. But he was getting his job done, no matter what.

So, the day he woke up and felt his stomach weird, his hips light and his back not aching for the first time in months, he thought that today was the day he finally could get a decent working day, like his pre-pregnancy days.

Yes, the occasional cramps that got more intense and the weird pressure between his legs? Totally to blame for something he ate, that street food was never reliable after all.

So the day went by, cramp after cramp, his breath getting more and more labored as the pressure he felt on his pelvis got more and more intense.

But he ignored the comments on how low he was carrying, the concerned looks of the people that stared at him behind the windows he cleaned, and the insistence of his mates to go home (or probably the hospital).

So when his water broke, staining his work overall, he was more than quick to dismiss it as spilled water, a bucket that fell or something like that.

With no time to change (how many windows he had to clean today?), he continued his job, ignoring the contractions that got closer and closer ripping through his gut and ignoring all those glances directed towards him by other workers that didn't dare to ask the obvious question.

Even the safety harness that hugged uncomfortably his huge belly, acting as some sort of corset with how big he was, was the least of the sensations he was worried about right now.

Ignoring even how low the baby's head felt, even if the sensation made him clutch over himself and instinctively squat (which he quickly tried to avoid, because God he needed to push so bad).

The contractions were soon followed by a few groans and sobs that he tried to suppress as much as he could, biting his lips to avoid moaning out loud and trying to keep his focus on wiping, scrubbing, and washing.

Wiping, scrubbing, washing. Wiping, scrubbing, washing.

He tried to keep it together, to breathe and to ignore the sensation of the head started to crown on his pants as he cleaned the window of the conference room, all the bemused stares from the people inside making him even more conscious of the need to push that baby out.

He tried to keep it together, to hold it in, wiping, scrubbing, washing.

But that baby was coming, the urge to get it out impossible to ignore as he leaned down, gripping the window sill for support as pain rippled through his lower abdomen.

He could feel it, the head threatening to come out right now, and he could do nothing else but bare down and push, unable to fight it.

He didn't have time to even unzip his overalls, his body pushing and forcing the head out that came out with a gush of amniotic fluid, making the unmistakable bulge crowning in the back of his pants the clue to let everyone inside know what was going on.

He couldn't help the scream that left his mouth as he pushed, shaking and gripping at his stomach and wobbling to try to unzip his overalls, the head stuck against the tight fabric, unable to go anywhere else.

The glass of the window, so clean that it felt like nothing was separating him from the meeting going on inside, left the people inside more than satisfied with his job.

#ask #asks #birth kink #labor kink #pregnant man #mpreg #birth denial #labor denial #pregnant fantasy #stories #public birth #clothing birth #a weird one...#but we make it work #labor #pregnancy #pregnancy fantasy

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mentallyshattered · 3 months

Text

This is part 23 of the "What if Yuu didn't want to go back?" Series!

(I, the author of this work, do not consent to this work being crossposted/translated without my knowledge or used to train an AI, ever.)

Masterlist

I have several questions.

1. Why am I here?

2. Where is "here?"

3. When did I wake up?

5. What time is it?

6. How did I get here?

7. Who are they?

There are several other questions, of course, but these are the ones that press most persistently at my mind. Some are easy enough to answer- Grim's my familiar, of course he's here- while others- maybe there aren't any crickets because of the time? They should be active if it's still night- aren't so obvious.

Ah, well. The lane in front of me is long, as is the portion behind me I've absentmindedly walked prior to realizing I'm not somewhere I already know. The atmosphere here doesn't feel aggressive, hostile, or even unwelcoming. It just feels... calm. Strangely, unfamiliarly calm, like I've been here all my life without realizing it. Like a freshwater fish moved to a cleaner, kinder lake.

On my left and right are smoke-lined "screens" with short videos playing, repeating from what I assume to be the start after a second or two of playing. Each "screen" is about my height, hovering slightly above the ground beside the path, but I soon realize I'm taller. The bottom of the screens aligns with my ankles, not my feet, but the tops are still about level with my scalp. About a meter and a half from the side of the walkway is a row of trees with a deep brownish-black I've never seen in nature, much less alongside the pale blue, almond-shaped leaves. In form, some of the trees resemble simple oak, while others split at the base like birch. The variety is undeniable regardless of trunks: some droop like weeping willows; some branch straight up; some don't bother with limbs and just grow their leaves directly off of their bark. The nonpath ground that doesn't have a tree on it is covered in what looks to be clover, flowerless and evidently lacking in the four-leafed variety, favoring five-leafedness as some noticeable portion of the apparent population.

The path itself is a shifting shade of grey, then purple, then blue, and then I hold my head still and stare. Above me is a strange, dark sky, the same shade as right before a thunderstorm, when dark clouds coat the sky and hide the sun. In spite of the color, not one cloud is visible- just a series of small, silvery streaks, some pale blue and most are a very light, shiny grey that appears white against the dark sky. The streaks are scattered like faraway stars; some even form a bizarre sort of image, a constellation of abstract made to resemble a hundred shapes at once. If I look straight up, they resemble a fox, but if I turn a little to my left and peer slightly lower than before, It's an upside-down stag.

What a weird, wonderful world.

In my arms, Grim starts to stir, yawning as he does when he's sleepy. I smile. How cute. His eyes slowly blink open, and he hops out of my arms to stretch like normal, padding over to sit beside me once he's done.

I wait. Logically, he's going to ask where we are soon- but that "soon" never comes. He just sits there, trident tail silently swishing behind him, until he speaks:

"Where're we gonna go?" He says it so casually; I'd think he knows this place if I didn't know any better.

...Do I?

Maybe he knows. Perhaps this is his signature spell. Perhaps it is not. How should I know? All I've been given are strange, vague clues, many of which would seem so out-of-place anywhere else I'd absolutely remember if I've seen them before.

Grim is in front of me now, his paws moving the loose, sandlike material of the path into a tiny trail, documenting his steps. His eyes are staring right at my face, curious and patient. Heh. Never thought I'd call him that, but here we are. Oh, I should ask him.

"Grim, do you know where we are?"

"Sorta," he starts. "I've been here before." He pauses and looks around for a moment before he continues, "Well, here-ish. The path and trees were a different color, and the screen things weren't floating or smokey. The videos were of other things, too, and there were way more sky streak things. Oh, and the sky was darker."

I look around and focus my attention on one of the videos floating on my right. It's of a young child, about eleven if I had to guess, celebrating something with a group of others who appear to be about his age. Just before the loop restarts, a presumably adult figure who's mostly out of sight starts handing out popsicles, starting with the boy in the center of the screen. The kid doesn't ring any bells, but I recognize him regardless- not because he's familiar, but because his familiar is familiar.

Atop the child's head is a very distinct oppossum. The boy must be Korrak. Is this a memory or a dream? I can't be sure.

I reach out to touch it, and all of a sudden I'm in that park, Grim by my side, as a small Korrak kicks a black-and-white soccer ball into a goal made from what I think is PVC piping. The kids cheer, but the other team, a pair of acne-faced young teens, tries to rush the lady keeping score, claiming "offsides." The lady laughs them off, presumably having seen the goal and the fact that the ball didn't touch any of the sides, and tells them to act their age instead of whining.

A chittering Mandible runs to join the cheering children as they toss Korrak into the air- I didn't know they could do that, but I guess little kids are stronger in groups of fifteen- and an adult hands out the "trophies," one for each winner. Korrak clearly isn't the only one with a familiar, as the instant another grown-up reaches to pass Mandible an ice cube with some grapes frozen inside, a small, many-legged clump of colorful fur bolts to her, barking and cooing and chittering and meowing that doesn't seem to be speech so much as just shouting. As the treats are handed out, I see a border collie, a raccon, a cat, and a pigeon quiet down and rest beside their respective winners to rest and eat. The border collie, still not fully grown, jumps onto the lap of a boy with brown hair that reminds me of tree bark, while the raccon runs to a young girl I don't clock as "not a boy" until she undoes her ponytail. The cat, a mostly white shorthair with black paws, an equally dark head, and a tail to match sits on the back of a very pale boy with hair that makes his skin look worse as he lies on his stomach to eat, and the pigeon flies directly into a nearby oak tree, where a small, dark-skinned boy with dreadlocks and wide eyes climbs to meet it.

Eventually, small Korrak finishes his reward, and, tongue stained purple, announces that his mom told him to be back before dark, and leaves, Mandible on his shoulder. The sunset has dyed the sky a bright, beautiful orangey-red, and then I am back in on the path, Grim beside me all the same. The portion of the memory is still looping like is was before on the smoke-lined screen, as though nothing changed. Nothing did. How odd.

Wait, I said something. There was a phrase- "memoir lake," was that it? No, it couldn't be. I don't see a lake.

"Weird," begins Grim. "I've never tried to go through one of those before. Did you see how the grass kinda doubled and split when we touched it? Like, some of it was unaffected, but some was kinda see-through and didn't just phase through my paws."

"I wasn't paying attention to the grass..."

Grim shrugs with his little kitty shoulders. "Fair enough. I barely did." He pauses, paws shifting nervously on the sandlike path. "I used to just...be somewhere a lot like this sometimes. I'd start at the end of the path, and there'd be a light of some kind, and I'd touch it like you did with that memory thing, and..."

I remember. I never went anywhere particular to find Grim, he'd kind of just... show up. I would fall asleep in the woods, as one does when they aren't attending a prestigious magic college, and wake with my familiar in my arms or curled against my stomach. I never questioned it; he'd been appearing like that for years. It'd been part of my "normal" since I was a little kid, and I thought nothing of it, the way rich kids think nothing of their money until they learn their classmates live without it.

I smile. My magic was always there, I suppose, I just couldn't use it until I was there, too.

My magic. My magic. My magic. Is that really what this is?

Grim finally asks me what I've been asking myself: "Is this your signature spell?"

It's mine or his, right? Grim's been seeing this kind of magic for years, and it connected to me then, so it has to be one of ours, right?

I stop and look left. Another memory, with an even younger Korrak. He looks to be hiding behind a small pile of black plastic trash bags, presumably playing hide-and-seek. An adult, a presumably a police officer, steps into the frame, head and chest still out-of-sight. He steps loudly around, leaving a young Korrak to breathe again with relief. The memory loops. I watch, still and silent, as a Korrak who can't be any older than six dashes into an alleyway, digs 'neath the garbage bags, and stashes himself away, holding his breath.

I break away when the cop leaves again. What the hell? That didn't look like a game.

Before I can stop it, my hand reaches out and presses against the screen. For a moment, it feels as though the world has stopped, and then I'm standing on sidewalk as a slight breeze ruffles my hair. Small Korrak bolts through my legs like they aren't there and forces his body against its momentum to make a sharp left into an alleyway. The cop runs up, noticeably slower than the five-or-so-year-old, and stops affront the escape route. He walks forward, slowly, boots thumping on the concrete, and I follow.

The police's face is blurry and obscured. This is a memory, and Korrak didn't get a good look at him, so that's not too surprising, but when I fall onto the trash bags I realize Grim was right- each bag duplicates into two, one of which phases through me, and the other of which doesn't.

The cop leaves, Korrak exhales, and I watch as he cries. Cries little child tears, curling into a ball of scared with Mandible clutched in his arms. The trash bags must be some kind of safe haven to him. Is that why his headphones were where they were when we found them?

A small, quiet whine tries and fails to echo in the dark outdoor halls. Mandible chitters. I don't know what he's saying.

The memory ends. I'm back on the path. What is there to do now but learn more?

I step twelve paces forward. All of the screens' loops would suggest Korrak has never had a house. Further back, more of the same. Farther and farther into his past I glance, and there is not a single instance of Korrak being raised by humans. I don't see a single plane.

The "pilot parents" lie has been very disproven. He grew up homeless? That explains so much! The fighting must have been a necessity out there, and the aforementioned lie was a practiced cover for why everything he owns fits in a single bag. He was probably raised by opossums, too, and learning a human language was probably a challenge.

Poor Korrak. He must have had a difficult life.

I venture into the nearer past. Teen and preteen Korrak does not appear to have been taken in. He has, however, learned to read, which seems to have lead to an interest in science. He doesn't get to indulge that.

Finally, I see the black carriage approach. He's going to Night Raven. Screens further ahead show the entrance ceremony, our dorm room, the Backstage Room, us. Rook taking him to Vil's room. The leaders of Pomefiore taking him and Mandible under their wings as they did Grim and I.

Vil brushing Korrak's hair while Rook smooths Mandible's fur with a brush. Getting a phone for the first time in sixteen years, from our housewarden himself. Clutching Mandible in his arms while trying to curl in on himself, just like he did all those years ago, but now Rook is there, too, hugging him- wait, that's the clearing we saw him in!

Much of this is giving me dejá vù. Rook and Vil treat Korrak and Mandible the way they treat me and Grim: like birds encouraging their fledgling chicks to spread their wings and fly. How come I didn't know of this sooner? As glances of the past would suggest, mom and dad- what the hell, they aren't my legal parents or guardians, I'm getting ahead of all this- went out of their ways to give us privacy. How nice.

I jog to where I started. A "fire" burns there, emitting smoke but no flame. I could walk through if I wanted.

"Myeeh, we need to leave! I don't wanna be late," shouts Grim, trident tail straight up. He's right, we need to go! But how do I...

Two words come to mind: a name. My signature spell's name.

"Memory Lane," I say, and I'm back in my bed.

#disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #disney twst #m!yuu #twst yuu #what if yuu didn't want to go back #twst grim #twst vil #twst oc #twst rook #twst #tw homelessness

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hencvl · 10 months

Text

Love A Vicious Killer.

Sherlock Holmes x Killer! Reader.

His hand reaches over for his pipe, as he leans back and looks at you walking into his detective agency with a raised eyebrow.

“what seems to be the problem, my dear friend?” he mutters, putting tobacco into his pipe.

I sighed and took a seat on the chair in front of his table. Throwing the newspaper at his desk, pointing at the main news on the paper.

“the case is getting out of hand. This killer is insane.” i said as I looked at him as he put more tobacco inside the pipe.

“i know. What can we do? No clue, evidence or anything. This killer was insanely brilliant and they knew how to hide everything perfectly.” he shrugged as i opened the file case again.

“they're unpredictable. What should we do, Sherlock? Don't you have something in your mind?”

“besides smoking, no.” he shook his head as he laughed at his own joke, ignoring the fact that we're trying to solve a murderer case. I shook my head as i took the sandwich on his desk and ate it.

“oi! That's mine you damnit”

“too late”

“ever heard of the Monty Club?”

I raised a brow.

“the abandoned club? The one that they say has a ghost and whatever. Why?”

Sherlock threw a stack of paper at the desk, mentioning me to read it.

“so you're telling me all the evidence that you found leading you to this abandoned club?”

He nodded as he sat down, putting some tobacco on his pipe. “i believe that the club is the killer hiding place. But it's a little bit weird considering that they left evidence and led us to their place. I think they did this on purpose”

“you think so?”

“a killer would never leave evidence on purpose. I think.. they're telling us to come to their place.”

“like an invitation?”

“invitation to hell.”

“You know how to shoot, detective?” Sherlock stares at the revolver, before looking up at her.

“Yes, I do know how to shoot properly,” he whispers softly.

The detective then clears his throat. “Why do you need it?” he asks, with a curious and serious look.

“just in case.” i muttered as i fixed my coat a bit. We walked to the empty bar, eyes roaming around the place that was giving goosebumps.

“look around, we might find something.” we separated our ways as i went upstairs and he tried to find something downstairs.

As he walked around, touching the old furniture and he noticed a room behind the bar desk. He pushed the door, and let his torch illuminate the room. His eyes widened as the room was full of pictures of victims.

He examines every picture, and there are many tools that were used to kill. He backed away in fear, not until he stepped on something.

“this.. this is hers..” he mumbled as he took the book. As he opened it, he saw her name written on the first page.

So it was her all the time.

He ran towards the exit of the bar, only to get blocked by her, standing at the exit with an evil grin plastered on her face. She raised her gun and pointed it right at him.

“may i say detective.. you have fallen into a trap.” she laughed as she saw fear in his eyes.

Sherlock stays silent, as tears stream down his cheeks. Why.. why was she laughing? He has gone through hell, why can’t she understand that - is she heartless? He can’t believe what she says, it is horrible, and disgusting.

“I hope God will punish you for this,” he whispers. There’s no other way to say what he feels, he feels disgust at what she says, and he can’t do anything to say otherwise.

Tears stream down his cheeks. “How could you?”

“There's no god here, detective ”I pointed the gun right at his head.

“And there's no Moriarty. I am the one who killed them.”

The detective blinks in surprise, and raises his hands

“There is no killer?” he asks, with his eyes staring in shock, as tears are still falling. He takes a look at the revolver pointed at his head.

“You.. you killed them?” he asks nervously, as his voice trembles and tears stream down his cheek. All this time.. she was the villain.

“I didn't know you're such an idiot for believing me! Hahahah!”

“But i didn't lie though. They were all killed by me. With these hands.”

The detective flinches as her cruel laughter makes his blood freeze in his veins.

“Why?? Why would you take the life of innocent souls? What could drive you to do such a thing?” he whispers sadly, his eyes staring down at her, the tears still streaming down his cheeks.

He couldn't believe all of this. He was hoping that all of this is just a nightmare.

“It wasn't dark and scary as it sounds... I had a.. lot of fun.”

“Killing somebody is a funny experience.”

Sherlock stays silent, as his heart tears in pain. He stares in horror at her actions, and wonders how such a beautiful woman is capable of doing this.

“Killing is fun..?” he whispers as he raises his eyebrows. “i hope.. i hope.. you go to hell for what have you done.”

“You're telling me that i might end up in hell? I've never had much use for the concept of hell ..But if hell exists...”

“I'm in it.” she grinned at him. The detective stays silent, as his eyes stare deep into hers. She was the devil in human form. He had no words, he was speechless, as the detective wipes away his tears.

“How can you live with yourself after doing such things?” he whispers, as tears stream down his cheek.

“How can you laugh and even claim to enjoy killing people?”

“Maybe...Maybe i am insane..?” She smiled evilly as she eyed him like a predator. The detective shivers as she looks at him evilly, he gulps as he notices the look in her eyes - it’s the look of death.

“Maybe.. maybe you are..?” he whispers quietly, as tears stream down his cheek. “What other conclusion could I come up to?”

He tries to keep his composure, but his voice trembles as he looks at her. “Why? Why do you do such things..?”

“for fun.” Sherlock blinks in horror, as his voice trembles.

“Killing is fun to you..?” his voice trembles. “How can you say that? What can I compare that to?”

Sherlock shakes his head. “Why would anyone want to kill others, let alone for fun?” The detective looks at her, a horrified look on his face.

“You asked too many questions.” She shoot him at his leg multiple times as he falls to his knees.

His stomach drops as she shoots his leg, as his eyes grow wide in shock. He screams in pain as he falls to the floor, crying out in pain.

“Why?!” he yells out in pain, as tears stream down his cheek.

“Please, don’t kill me..” he whispers, as he looks back at her with terror-stricken eyes. “Please, I beg you!”

“Shh... Do you hear that..?” she smiled even more as she heard his cry and beg

“That's what i love about killing people..”

The detective stays silent as he stares at her with horror. His eyes filled with tears, his voice trembling.

“You’re a monster..” he whispers. “You aren’t human, only demons could do something like this.”

The detective clenches his fists as his eyes stare down at her, tears streaming down his cheek. “How could you do this, how?”

She shot him right on his chest.

“I am, the devil.”

He fell on the ground, his eyes staring deep into her as he gasped for air, blood dripping from his mouth.

He gasped once more, and looked back at her. “I… I love you… I don't know how you could do this to me. I never expected you to be the killer here, I never thought this.. I love you…” he said quietly, tears streaming down his cheek.

She looks at him in a bored expression as she points the gun right on his head.

“Love, didn't exist for someone that is heartless as me. And falling for me makes you an idiot. Any last words before i send you right to hell?”

Sherlock closed his eyes, trying to remember all his loved ones. A lot of people came to his head, a lot of people he was so glad he had met.

He opened his eyes slowly, and looked at her. “I love you,” he whispered, before he closed his eyes one final time.

She lowered the gun as she saw him close his eyes and he stopped breathing. She stared at his corpse for a moment before I turned back, leaving his lifeless body behind.

The detective lies there, his body limp, eyes closed, as tears dry up on his face. He will never move again, and the case of the serial killings will go unsolved.

A life lost because of love.. but also a life lost because of cruelty.

as she walked out from the bar, her clothes were starting to get wet suddenly. It's raining outside.

She wiped Sherlock's blood from her face, standing in the middle of the road as rains kept pouring to the earth.

“blood is really warm.. it's like drinking hot chocolate..”

“But with more screaming.”

the blood that drips from her face is sickly sweet, metallic and oh, so familiar. She is not even sure who it belongs to anymore. Sherlock's last words suddenly ring inside her head.

“I love you”

And i love him. But his blood is stained all over me. I killed him.

Blood on your hands, they say.

As though it stops there;

At my wrist, like a glove.

As though as i could do this,

And there could be any part of you

That wasn't stained, or dripping.

I turn my head to the bar door, seeing his lifeless body.

The detective’s body lies there, his eyes closed as his lips form a slight smile. The smile of a man who loves the woman who killed him. The smile of a man who had fulfilled his last wish; his last wish was for him to tell the woman he loved that he loved her. He was happy as he told his last words out.

And now the detective’s life is at an end, as he lies there, silent, unmoving, and lifeless. His eyes stare into the darkness of the ceiling above.

he's smiling, like he died happily. I stared at him in awe, does someone like him, love me? I wonder.. what makes him love a monster like me?

Poor man, killed by his own lover.

The detective’s body lies there, the smile on his lips remains unchanged, as his eyes stare at the ceiling.

He loved her, even knowing the fact that she is a monster. He loved her nevertheless, and that was the greatest show of love in his life, that he was willing to give his life for the woman he loved. And he would do it again, he wouldn’t change anything.

He was happy before he died, and that's the one thing that matters.

i don't know what makes me drag myself on his corpse. Staring at his peaceful face, I was confused.

All this time when i killed people, i never saw any of them die with a smile plastered on their faces.

What's.. happening?

Sherlock’s corpse lies there, his lips a little bloody as a smile was plastered on his face. How could the man be smiling at a time like this? The detective was killed because of his love for that woman, so why was he smiling at their final moments?

The detective’s eyes are closed, his hair is bloody and tangled up, yet he still smiles.

“Why are you smiling.. dummy?” i said as i looked at him angrily.

“You're supposed to make a horrible face when you die.”

No..not like this.

He wasn't supposed to smile when he's dead.

Sherlock’s dead body lies there. His eyes are still closed, yet he seems so peaceful. His lips form a little bloody smile, which is filled with sadness and pure love at the same time.

His eyes remain unmoving, his mouth doesn’t move, his body doesn’t move.

This is the final state of his body. His last smile, his final peace. And his final way of telling her that he loves her - with a smile.

and then i realized. He truly means that he loves me. But it's all too late.

A gun shot echoes to the bar again. I dropped the revolver i used to kill him at the floor as I looked at him in shock.

“Police!”

Oh. I was shot right in my chest. Just like how i did to Sherlock. I fall to the floor next to Sherlock, as I feel my own blood oozing out from my chest.

His hand.. was right infront of me. With all i have, i shakily takes his cold hand in mine

Am i gonna die, soon? I got the answer as my whole world turns dark around me.

His hand felt so cold and lifeless as she took it; his eyes remained closed, and his lips stayed frozen at a smile.

What he felt for her, nothing could compare to those feelings. He truly loved her, and that was all that mattered at the end.

As she closes her eyes, she sees him.. in heaven? Is it possible? To see him again in the afterlife, to be together once more?

He will be waiting for her, smiling, with a warm hug.

#henry cavill imagine #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill characters #sherlock x you #sherlock x reader #sherlock holmes #sherlock imagine #enola holmes

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razorblade180 · 11 months

Text

9 Days of Lancaster Day9: Hoodie

Another day another essay complete at Beacon. After thorough research and many pencils, Blake made her way back to her room exhausted. She typically loved the library, but even she needed a break from the place now. The fact that her teammates seemed to crank out papers so easily was a real wonder. Then again, all her love of literature in the world probably didn’t makeup for years of legitimate school. Maybe she could ask Ruby or Yang a thing or two about proper formats. She had a feeling asking Weiss would lead to a lecture that Blake didn’t want to bother with.

The young huntress opened her room door and was caught off guard by a burst of petals and Ruby sitting rigidly atop her bed, clearly pretending like she wasn’t doing anything. Blake walked in and slowly closed the door. Her keen eyes noticed something had been quickly put under the leader’s pillow.

Blake:H-Hey.

Ruby:Heeeeeey, Blake. You’re back earlier than I expected.

Blake:Ruby, saying things like that only makes you look more suspicious.

Ruby:Suspicious!? Me!?

Blake:…

Ruby:….

Blake:It seems Yang and Weiss are gone.

Ruby:They roughed up Cardin’s team in sparring a little too hard. Ms. Goodwitch gave them detention.

Blake:He probably he deserved it.

Ruby:Yeah but Glynda tries not to show blatant favoritism.

Blake:So here you are, left to your own devices. I don’t mean to overstep but umm, if you need some alone time then I completely understand. I’ll just grab my book and-

Ruby:*red* No no no, that’s not what’s going on. I’m not you.

Blake:Wooooow. Low blow, but you’re right. Now you gotta tell me.

Ruby:I was just listening to music, dancing and stuff.

Blake:I see. Well if that’s all then-

The ninja chucked her pillow at Ruby’s face before quickly reaching for the girl’s. Ruby was caught so off guard she could only cover her face in embarrassment. Meanwhile, Blake started in silence at Jaune’s hoodie. Her eyes grew wide.

Blake:Are you two…?

Ruby:We’re just…talking. *looks up* JNPR is on the away mission to a village and I…I don’t know. Maybe it’s because of what happened at Mt. Glenn that I’m a little more on edge but I’m worried about them; worried for him. Jaune left that behind so I wouldn’t miss him as much.

Blake:That’s so sweet! Ruby, why hide this?

Ruby:I didn’t feel like playing 20 questions when I don’t have a clue! Feelings are weird; I’m a little weird.

Poor girl was caught in her own developing feelings. Blake handed her the hoodie and Ruby put it back on. The sleeves were longer than her arms and it stopped a little further than mid thigh. Ruby went as far as to pull up the hood as she sighed, allowing herself to sink into it. Blake could tell how calming it was for Ruby to wear it. Jaune must’ve really grown on her. More importantly, Blake could see her friend was a bundle of nerves.

Blake:I won’t tell a soul.

Ruby:Thanks. Still, it’s only a matter of time before more people find out. I really don’t feel like explaining it to Yang. She’ll try doing something like giving me “the talk”

Blake:Have you had it?

Ruby:My uncle and dad have both taught students. Combat school doesn’t begin and end guns. Your body is a temple as well as a weapon.

Blake:(Guess I really should ask about their school later.) The more you know I suppose. Anyways, maybe I can help?

Ruby:I’m listening.

Blake:Ren and I read similar books from time to time, so we tend to share and swap.

Ruby:He into Ninjas of Love?

Blake:*inhales* I read more than that y’know? Anyways, follow me.

Blake walks across the hall to JNPR’s room. With the help of her scroll, she types in a code manually before scanning the sensor. Ruby can’t believe it when the door opens. They both walk in and Blake quickly closes the door.

Ruby:How did you do that!?

Blake:Ren gave the code so I wouldn’t have to ask each time I wanted to read something. I could leave a note. He has the code for ours.

Ruby:I didn’t even know ours had a code.

Blake:Well, here you go. A place to wear a hoodie freely and text him uninterrupted. But from personal experience, try not to obsess or worry about too much. Jaune is capable and his team is great. I’m sure he’s thinking about you right now.

Ruby:*red*…Thanks Blake. This means a lot. I’m not used to talking a lot about these kinds of things.

Blake:Whenever you need to, I’m happy to listen.

The two girls hug share a hug before Blake leaves the room. As she does, she quickly snatches her copy of Ninjas of Love off of Ren’s nightstand. Blake dares not look back at her leader, but she feels the judgment. Ruby shakes her head with a smile on her face before looking around. She didn’t want to touch anything, however…

Her feet carried her to Jaune’s bed where she promptly laid down on his pillow. Tension left her and her mind felt calmer. Ruby let out a sigh of defeat. She really was falling for him, wasn’t she? Finally relaxed, her eyelids shut for awhile. She really hoped he’d be back soon.

xxxxx

Over in a village, night fell after a long day of fixing fences and slaying grimm. As Nora ate her fill and Pyrrha entertained the small children, Ren had finished cooking and went back to his shared room. Inside he found dozens or finished plans and his weapons already tended to by Jaune. Ren turned his head to see his leader already knocked out for the day, his body draped in one of Ruby’s cloaks as a cover. Ren smiled, grabbing his guns for first watch and locking the door as he left.

#rwby #jaune arc #ruby rose #blake belladonna #rwby lancaster #9daysoflancaster23

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monstersinthecosmos · 3 months

Note

please make longform sheith posts on tumblr 😭😭😭 (if you so wish ofc)

hjaklgd I hung onto this ask because I was waiting for the right time to talk about Sheith and I got such an insightful comment on my fic Tonight the Stars Revolt! that I decided I wanted to talk a little meta about the thought process that goes into this fic and so here you are and it's time to utilize this invitation !!!!!!!!!!!!

The comment from DocYo5 as follows:

It feels like reality, the feelings and thoughts Keith has, fitting for someone who had to grow up without close relationships, with Shiro being closest to a family member before he left for Kerberos. Understandable that he's able to open up to him, because he trusts him and somehow understandable that they can have sex together without hard feelings... At least from Keith's point of view. We can only guess how Shiro feels about this, probably more than he lets out. For me it's surprising to have sex with someone repeatedly without considering to love him, to announce it as weird to like him when I think it's much more weird to fuck someone often without love, only to get release. In this fic I think it's possible that it stays that way. So I am curious what you will make of it. The way you put it it would make sense.

So!!!! This is exactly the dynamic that this fic is ABOUT, okay? And while some of this pertains to my fic specifically and the places their relationship goes behind the scenes of canon, I did build it off of canon, so a lot of this speaks to the way I’m reading them on the show.

Since the fic is Keith’s POV we’re spending more time with his interiority, naturally, but I’m going to get to Shiro in a second lol. But I think Keith is someone who really compartmentalizes his feelings. I think he, more than the others on the show, sort of has an ON and OFF switch in which he’s either a grumpy little shit or he’s simply dealing in facts. It’s SO rare to see him smile; I think he laughs, like, once? Even in the shitshow of S8 he can’t enjoy himself on their day off at the carnival.

Compartmentalizing can be a useful tool, especially given that the characters are at war, but it can be so harmful, as well. And Keith, unlike the others, tends to have sort of violent outburst from time to time and does lose his temper. I know the creators one time ascribed this to his being half Galra, which I think really opens a fucking can of worms when we talk about Keith’s emotional intelligence as well as being neurodivergent; it’s a popular fanon read that Keith is autistic, and there’s a lot of clues!, but I also have to ask like, how much of his Galra half is driving in his brain? And if his brain is only half human, that literally means he’s neurodivergent from a typical human.

I strayed from my point a little but I’m trying to say that Keith perhaps relies on anger a little too much, whether it’s genetic or not, and sometimes I think compartmentalizing looks like him being angry all the time because he won’t interact with any of his other feelings.

THE EXCEPTION TO THIS of course, is with Shiro! There are so many moments of him and Shiro where he’s vulnerable and soft in a way he doesn’t show to other characters! And I think it’s easy to overlook this when we watch with shipping goggles—of course we ARE SEEING IT because we’re shipping it lmao but it’s easy to forget that he doesn’t show this to anybody else.

So anyway I’ve been very intentional in this fic to try to write Keith as obsessively compartmentalizing and trying to keep a hold on all of his emotions and have control over the way other people perceive him. I’ve ranted & raved about this before but I read Keith as a person who makes himself deliberately unpleasant so that he can control when people come & go from his life, rather than ever trusting anyone or relying on them or having his feelings hurt when he inevitably gets abandoned again.

I often struggle in this fic with the line between showing and not telling because I am very aware that a lot of the text IS telling, but this is intentional! Keith obsesses over every feeling, every interaction with Shiro, he questions everything he says and does and worries about it for days! This is part of his anxiety around the whole situation and not knowing if he’s behaving correctly! He doesn’t want to compromise his relationship with Shiro, because it’s the ONLY meaningful relationship in his life AND Shiro is the ONLY person he has the stomach to trust, but on top of that he simply does not understand how he’s supposed to act. So every interaction between them is this huge puzzle for him to figure out and he’s stressed out as fuck!

And this fic is about him trying to compartmentalize all these human emotions and needs, like, his need to have sex, his need for companionship, maybe even his need for love? And he has the drive to want these things. (Does his growing and uncontrollable horniness have anything to do with same non-human half that dictates his temper? We shall see. 😏) But how does he navigate “I am horny and want to get off” vs “I need the companionship of my best friend” alongside “having sex with someone is actually very intimate” and in the end "sexual intimacy makes me uncomfortable because in some ways this thing with Shiro is everything that I want, but if I admit that and lose it I will be destroyed” ?? How can these things coalesce for him???

The idea for this fic was me trying to subvert some tropes I was seeing all the time in Sheith fic and the main one is like, we have a habit of making them such soulmates and making it so seamless! WHICH IS FINE AND GOOD, I LOVE THOSE FICS TOO LOL, but I wanted to ask like, what if it was messy, what if they were just fucking? And I think part of me wanted to keep the illusion going for longer, when I was first planning the fic, and it wound up like growing a life of its own and taking me to a lot of places I didn’t intend to go. And I say that because, where we are right now in the story, I don’t think either of them are denial about their feelings, or withholding on purpose. I think Keith is compartmentalizing, and I tried to get at this a little bit when he has the conversation with Pidge about what love means. He loves Shiro, he already loved Shiro. He will love Shiro regardless, as a friend. And he’s also fucking Shiro. And he’s keeping these two things separate. And I don’t write it as if he’s pining and WANTS more (just yet) as much as he’s just found himself in a tricky emotional space and doesn’t know where his boundaries are.

The complication of the perhaps-alien-half dictating his libido trying to co-pilot with his very human half that is demisexual is a problem, too. Like he asks Pidge in Chapter 8: . “If you love someone as a friend, but you’re fucking them. When does it become, like. I don’t know. Romantic?”

He doesn’t know! We don’t know! Let’s keep going and see what happens lol.

SHIRO ON THE OTHER HAND.

What makes him such a great character (for me lol) is that like, he could so easily be such a 2D character and just, the fearless leader who is always chill and nice to everybody, and we DO get that to an extent, but they were generous in making him so multifaceted. He has PTSD. He struggles with his disability. He even loses his temper sometimes! When he gets back (as Kuron) he has a lil depression cave sesh in his bedroom in his PJs. Like he’s a very well rounded character and it makes him extremely realistic and human to me!

I don’t think it’s as fair to say that he compartmentalizes the way that Keith does, except what we can glean from his canon timeline. Meaning: He fights for the Kerberos mission despite his disability, he makes it up there only to be abducted, he survives the arena, he escapes to lead Voltron. And ALSO him being canonically queer; I think this starts getting into headcanon territory because I don’t think we get any clues in canon that they’re navigating homophobia in their universe, but we absolutely still see ableism and sexism. (Put a pin in the racism conversation as well when it comes to like, alien species and systems of oppression because there’s a lot to unpack and I’m trying to focus LOL.) So like, we do know that their world isn’t perfect, and Shiro is someone who had to work his ass off and fight for his rank and for his career. He’s someone who can put his feelings aside and focus on the task at hand, and we know this because he’s NOT perfect, he does occasionally lose his temper, and he has PTSD!

Basically, I think we have to assume he compartmentalizes to function, because he comes out of a year of INTENSE trauma to immediately lead a team, and lead them with kindness and patience, and the writing tells us that it’s not a matter of him being Perfect Cartoon Man, because he’s not a perfect person and he’s traumatized as fuck.

Because the fic is Keith’s POV I’ve tried to communicate this by Keith noticing that Shiro wears “masks”, or uses different voices. Sometimes it’s even about his clothes, like as they become more intimate and Keith starts seeing more of Shiro’s scars, and how Shiro is self-conscious about them. But it’s also moments like in Chapter 7 when Shiro is crying.

I feel that Keith and Shiro have some like sort of equal-opposite relationships to trauma and grief that balance each other in the end. Like, Keith lost his dad at a young age and had a horrific childhood, but that’s been his reality for most of his life and he’s learned how to carry it day-to-day. Even though he’s a messier and more immature person, he’s used to shouldering it and it’s sort of baked into his personality at this point. But Shiro’s trauma is SO new. Shiro’s is a ton of shit ALL AT ONCE, vs. Keith’s 10+ years of grief and disappointment, and it’s so recent! Even though Shiro is, on paper, a more mature and emotionally intelligent person, this is very new to him!

So Shiro in this fic also has some feelings he’s juggling, like, “I am touch starved and have physical needs” and “my mentee grew up kinda hot” and “I have to be very careful with him and his feelings”. He sees Keith for the mess that he is, and he’s patient, and he can wait for Keith, and take Keith’s lead.

I don’t feel that Shiro is pining necessarily, either—I think he’s a lot more grounded and realistic, and their encounters aren’t causing him the same level of anxiety because he can read Keith so clearly, even when Keith can’t read him back. But I think, he is pining a LITTLE lol. I think because he’s smart enough to know where this is heading, and he’s being patient, but he’d speed it along if it were up to him. They’re both so sensitive in different ways and I think they’re both so vulnerable to hurting each other’s feelings!!!! And Shiro is trying so so hard not to crush Keith like a little egg!!!!!!!!!!!

😊

Anyway !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thank you for coming to my lecture! I don’t say this often about my fics because it makes me squeamish but I LOVE this fic, it really is where I put all my Sheith love, and all the thoughtwork I do about them is FOR THIS FIC lol it’s my lovenote to them, I’m putting my whole Sheithussy into it ahskjgdlasd

#sheith #stuff i wrote #ttsr #SPACE MAN META

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