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fanfictilltheend · 5 months

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❤️‍🔥Violent Heart my VERY DARK Stepdad!Mechanic!Convict Joel x Reader story snippet (preview) ❤️‍🔥

Hey!! You guys voted on which WIP you wanted a snippet from and you voted for this one: Violent Heart my VERY DARK no apocalypse slowburn Stepdad!Mechanic!Convict!Joel x Reader fic!! (Who likes the header I made???? thoughts??? thots???)

Part 1 of the story snippet // Part 2 of the story snippet // header/mood board with original image credits (please read all warnings for each part!)

Context for this snippet: Joel is Y/N's new stepfather and they're sitting on the couch talking. Y/N is a child (about 8).

WARNINGS: afab!you, mention of sarah dying, cancer mention, joel tears, hurt/comfort, use of Y/N, please use your best judgement and take care of yourself!!

“Joel?” she asks a little cautiously, breaking him from his thoughts. “Can I ask you something?”

“‘Course, kiddo,” he says as gently as he knows how.

“Who’s Sarah?”

His heart stops. His blood runs cold.

“What? How did you–”

“You were talking. In your sleep yesterday,” she says, shrinking away a little and Joel feels sorry for scaring her again. “When we were watching Dexter. Well, you fell asleep right before. You were snoring and all, but you were also talking and mumbling that name. You sounded sad and scared.”

Joel should definitely not have allowed her to watch that! But that is hardly the point right now.

His heart squeezes so tight it burns. What was there to say about Sarah – the entire reason his life had had any purpose? His perfect babygirl? The light of his life?

He could lie. So easily too and Y/N would never know. He could say nothing at all. Hasn’t even told Erica about her yet. Hardly ever speaks to anyone about her these days.

And yet…

“She was my daughter,” he hears himself say softly. “She…got sick. Died of leukemia a while back. She was twelve.”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the wallet he was just thinking about. Inside is a tiny school photo of Sarah – the last one she ever took. It’s faded a little, but she’s still smiling so big she could block out the sun. He shows it to Y/N.

“I’m sorry, Joel,” she says and she really does look sorry.

Not the way his co-workers and customers say it – almost as a reflex – to fill the void in the conversation. Her eyes are shimmering.

“Nothin’ to do about it now,” he shrugs, running his thumb over the photo paper, softened with age. “But she was so damn special. My whole world.”

He has learned to repress the tears, not to show weakness, that is not hard. Not anymore. But the anger that broils up inside him – the injustice of it all – how he was unable to help her. Unable to save her. He feels almost like a child again, powerless in an unforgiving, unrelenting world. He wants to fight back!

He is so angry he begins to shake and his hands clench into fists.

He wants to flip over the fucking coffee table – fling it across the room! He wants to punch in the glass of the flickering TV screen until his fist is broken! He wants to–He wants–

He just wants his babygirl back...

A sob, small and foreign rises in his throat, but he pushes it down.

He thinks Y/N knows though. Can see the vulnerability in his eyes.

She reaches out a small hand and touches his fist, pushes it down gently into the soft fabric of the couch so he’ll stop shaking. It doesn’t entirely work, but he thinks he appreciates the effort.

“I don’t know if this is the right thing to say,” she begins a bit skittishly, still not entirely trusting the hulking, raging man above her. “But I think I would have liked to have been her friend.”

And for the first time since Sarah died, Joel sobs.

Y/N pops up from the couch and Joel’s heart cries out louder in his chest for her to come back, don’t leave me too as he tries to suck the tears back in. It doesn’t work though and liquid gushes down his cheeks. He doesn’t think he can take the rejection, the loss of her. But thankfully, she returns just as quickly as she went with a handful of tissues stuffed into her small fist.

“Here, Joel,” she offers. “Here. Don’t cry.”

Joel does cry though. He’s ashamed he’s broken down in front of this literal child, and he doesn’t let out much noise, but he doesn’t take the tissues either. He can’t.

She’s so sweet though, or maybe it’s because she is truly afraid of him now, of his wrath, he’ll never really know, but she frowns and reaches out a little hand, the one with the scar on the middle finger, and tries to wipe up the tears.

The paper of the tissue tickles his cheeks.

“Shouldn’t havta…” he tries.

“Didn’t mean to make you…” she answers.

A pause.

“You didn’t, honey. That was all me,” he assures her finally.

She lets out a sigh of relief and soaks up the last of the salt water from his face, brushes the tissue gently against his nose. It tickles, causes him to snort. He smirks a little.

She smiles back shyly, she can’t help it, he can tell.

“You know,” he says thoughtfully after a few moments of silence, sighing deeply. “I reckon she would’ve wanted to be your friend too…”

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saiyanprincessswanie · 2 years

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SaiyanPrincessSwanie - Reading List Week 104

Welcome to Week 104

For the month of July I will be adding new or small blogs to this list. This is in honor of hitting over 100 reading lists and 2 years of making them. So please give these people your time like you would for well known/bigger blogs.

As always these will be listed in no particular order. None of these stories are mine. I’m just signal boosting them. Author is listed next to title. My goal is to signal boost writers and spread positivity in the community. 💜💜

Click HERE to see what I will or won’t read. This is very important.

Click HERE for past reading lists.

My Masterlist click HERE

Please make sure you are reading the warnings on every story. They range from dark to fluff. Do Not Read if you are under 18 years old.These stories are meant for adults only. You’re responsible for your own media consumption.

Page-break by @whimsicalrogers & Header by @chaotictarlos

If you can, please reblog these lists so they can reach more people on Tumblr.

I love you 3000 💜 Missy

Civil War Brooklyn - Chp 11 - (Steve x Reader x Bucky) - @saiyanprincessswanie

Brothers in Arms Part 3 - (Ransom x Reader, Steve x Reader) - @wiypt-writes

The Invitation [[One]l - @ironlady1993

Rude demands - (Steve x Reader) - @holylulusworld

Buttercup Don't Break My Heart - @writercole

Lick My Wounds - (Lloyd x Reader) - @georgiapeach30513

Famous Kiss - (Steve x Reader) - @animnerd

Fall kiss - (Nat x Reader) - @/animnerd

Crash Landing - (Rooster Bradshaw x Fem!Pilot) - @writercole

Destroy - (Steve x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

Make me Sorry - (Steve x Reader) - @astheskycries

Baby Girl - (Andy x Reader) - @/astheskycries

Home Run Romance - 2 - (Nat x Reader) - @lovelyavengers

Dry humping with Bucky - @buckysbruni

First time with Bucky - @/buckysbruni

Chamomile Tea - (Nat x Reader) - @lovelyavengers

R U Mine? - (Bucky x Reader) - @cryptidcasanova

Strange Magic - (Bucky x Reader) - @/cryptidcasanova

Powerless - (Bucky Barnes x Reader) - @delaber

The Final Cut - (Bucky) - @/delaber

Lunch Break - (Chris x Reader) - @denisemarieangelina

Kiss Me Like You Mean It - (Bucky x Reader) - @angrythingstarlight

Puppies in the Avengers Tower - @fictional-affairs

Still Magic - (Dean x Reader) - @/fictional-affairs

I have always loved you - (Steve x Reader) - @fluffycutecevans

Steve Rogers One-shot - @/fluffycutecevans

Miss Velvet - Chp 6 - (Bucky x Reader) - @missvelvetsstuff

Strangers in the Night - (Andy x Reader) - @ghotifishreads

Haven - (Andy x Reader) - @/ghotifishreads

Thank You For Loving Me - (Dean x Reader) - @jensengirl83

I Didn’t Want To Need You - (Dean x Reader) - @/jensengirl83

The competition never ends (TGM Headcanon) - @justalonelyslytherin

The Competition never ends - Baby Seresin - (Jake x Reader) - @/justalonelyslytherin

Messy Gifts - (Andy x Reader) - @late-to-the-party-81

Yesterday's Dream, Today's Nightmare - (Ransom x Reader) - @/late-to-the-party-81

Lumberjack Bucky One-shot - @angrythingstarlight

All the King's Men - Part 2 - (Bucky x Reader) - @nastybuckybarnes

Heavy in Your Arms - (Lloyd x Reader) - @ozarkthedog

Too good - (Steve x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

Lotta True Crime - (Reader x Pronge x Jake x Ransom) - @lexivass

For War and Pleasure - (Thor x Reader) - @letsby

#saiyanprincessswanie #recommended reading #missy reads #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #stucky x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #lloyd hansen x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #rooster bradshaw x reader #andy barber x reader #dean winchester x reader #jake hangman x reader

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wildernessuntothemselves · 1 year

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"another person said that bc oc and gyu have been together so long, oc wouldn’t be able to have a healthy, thriving relationship w someone else (tyun) and that no one would benefit from their relationship, but i disagree"

The another person in question here 🙋‍♀️. Let me explain. What I meant by this is not that oc wouldn't want a healthy relationship or that no one else could want to try make that happen with her. But we gotta take a honest look at her and the society around her.

Oc grew up with a narrow social circle in which relationships were more political than romantic and her only idea of romance was from fairy tales. On top of that, she literally never had or witnessed a functional healthy relationship. Even if she wants one, she wouldn't know what it looks like - let alone know how to make it happen. With zero poit of reference or guidance it's quite hard to figure out.

And let's not forget all the trauma baby girl got inflicted with throughout her life. So much abandonment, isolation, abuse, manipulation... and virtually no real emotional support. She needs healing in her relationship with herself first and foremost. Her mental state is in shambles. At this point she is too vulnerable and it's too easy for anyone to take advantage of her and break her even more... and she knows that. She trusts no one and at the same time is feels powerless against them.

The only "love" she knows is beomgyu’s luxurious nightmare of an obsession. Even if someone tried to love her decently and rightfully, she most likely wouldn't recognize this as fulfilling love - as we have seen during her marriage with tyun.

To add up to all of that... even if someone fell in love with her (tyun or whoever else), just imagine the level of shame and scrutiny society would throw at them. Let's no forget that she is pregnant and in her second wedding at this point. Women were straight up killed or exiled for much less without a second thought back then. No man with a reputation or authority to uphold would want their name associated with hers, sadly. They would be deeply despised and dammed.

I could go on, but I think I already stressed my point enough. He did it. Beomgyu managed to break and deform her self and her image to the point where her only options are, simply put, him or death (or maybe a convent in another country would take her in, but she is not considering that option i think).

~♡anon

you're so real for that. oc doesn't know what a healthy relationship looks like. yes, she feels that what she has with gyu is wrong but she's so used to it that when she received a more sane and healthy affection from tyun (even if it was restrained and deficient) she didn't recognize it as such. she didn't see his subtle displays of affection. she needed the familiar extravagant displays she's used to from gyu. she needs to hear "i love you" even if it's followed by something horrendous. at least she'll feel loved for once in her life.

yes even if tyun gets her back, what is going to do? marry her again? it would ruin his reputation and might actually harm him.

beomgyu really did it. he said he wasn't going to lose her again and he made sure of it.

side note: wonder if you saw the spoiler of the header. would love to hear your opinion on it if you decide to see it

#mort talks #yamqn #♡anon

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perianfrost · 1 year

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Join the Chorus 25/25

We did it! Happy day to all!

December 25

By the time they got back to Room 306, it was past midnight, and Bruno was still incensed.

“I can’t believe them! How did we miss it? How did we miss it?”

Boots kicked his shoes off without comment. Bruno was talking enough for the both of them.

Cathy and Diane were on their way back to Diane’s house in Diane’s mom’s car. Diane, it turned out, lived just two hours away. Once it had come out that Bruno and Boots were staying at the Hall over Christmas, the girls had made some fast plans to keep up the ruse. Cathy had been staying at Diane’s since everyone had left for break, and the two of them had made periodic trips back to the Hall.

“You drove four hours a day just to mess with us?” Boots had asked in disbelief. “Are you insane?”

“It was the worst cold I’d ever had!” Cathy had replied, picking up the costume. “And we’d been working on Sasquatch here in sewing class for a costume contest anyway. So I thought… two very stupid birds, one well-made stone.”

Boots’d had to hold Bruno back again.

“All our stolen things hidden in the girls’ pool locker room,” Bruno moaned now. “She’s going to take over the world one day, and we’ll be powerless to stop her!”

“I don’t know,” Boots said, sitting gingerly on the corner of Bruno’s bed. “Guess you could always tackle her again.”

Bruno drove his fist into his palm.”Don’t tempt me! She ordered real ape hair online just to mess with us! I’ll kill her! Boots, we have a week until everyone comes back for our last semester, and we’re going to make them miserable. We’ve gotta start planning now!”

He went over to his desk to get paper. Boots watched him for a second, thinking. “I can’t believe you tackled Bigfoot for me,” he said after a moment.

Bruno grabbed a pencil and sat in his chair. “I thought it was going to kill you! Of course I tackled it!” He scribbled a header across the paper. “I mean… I wasn’t going to let it… I. I panicked. You’re my best friend.”

Boots played with the comforter. “I thought you were mad at me. For this morning.”

Bruno looked up. “What?”

“You avoided me all day,” Boots said, “I thought you–”

Bruno’s pencil slapped down onto the desktop. “Me, mad at you? I thought you were mad at me! For–for–” His face went red. “You know.”

Boots shook his head. “Uh, no? No, I wasn’t. I um. I didn’t.” His windpipe had shrunk down to the width of a straw. Oh god. But Bruno kept saying. You’re my best friend. If they were best friends, maybe a confession wouldn’t be the end of the world. “I didn’t mind,” he managed. “That you did. Did. Did you? Mind?”

They stared at each other for a long moment.

Bruno stood up and began to pace. Boots let him. He always paced when he was thinking, planning, plotting. Working through things. The carpet was starting to wear thin down the center of the room from all the pacing that had been done over the years. “Okay. Okay. Sure. Okay. So earlier, I talked to Mrs. Sturgeon, right?”

Boots squinted.

“Right,” Bruno continued. “I talked to Mrs. Sturgeon, and she said that you have to work on relationships, right? So if I messed something up or thought I did, I should talk to you. So I was trying, and then Cathy interrupted me, and I forgot everything I was going to say and now I’m all messed up but really I–”

“Bruno–”

“--I don’t mind that you didn’t mind!” Bruno finished.

“What?”

Bruno spun and paced the room again.

Boots stood up and got in his way as he came back. “What does that mean?” Bruno looked down, but Boots caught him by shoulders. “Bruno, what does that mean? Because I. I really liked that. And if you don’t mind–”

Bruno’s hands caught his jaw and pulled him down for a kiss.

As kisses went, it wasn’t anything special. Too fast, not lined up all that well, Boots had been in the middle of saying something, so it was awkward, too.

Except it was Bruno, and that meant it was perfect.

“Oh,” Boots said, shell-shocked..

“Oh,” Bruno echoed. “Oh… as. As in. Good?”

It had been years since Boots had seen Bruno lost for words. That was okay. He didn’t have many words himself.

“Really good,” he said, and pulled Bruno back in.

“Wait a minute,” he said later. The snow was swirling outside, but it was very warm under Bruno’s comforter. “How did they take my bed?”

~*~

Christmas breakfast consisted of every kind of pancake under the sun, pounds of bacon, gobs of whipped cream, and buckets of syrup. It wasn’t the usual eggnog french toast Boots was used to on Christmas, but that was fine. Bruno was sitting just as close as ever, knees knocking, shoulders brushing, but this time, they both knew it meant more.

That was the best Christmas present Boots could ask for.

“Boys,” Mr. Sturgeon said, pausing on the way to the breakfast bar. He and Mrs. Sturgeon were eating in the dining hall today with the rest of them. “Merry Christmas to you both.”

“Merry Christmas, sir!” they chorused.

“Did you sleep well after all your excitement last night?”

“Yes, sir,” Bruno said, remarkably straightfaced.

“I trust you heard that Misses Burton and Grant returned home safely?”

Bruno’s face darkened. “Yes, sir. They texted last night. Sir?”

Mr. Sturgeon paused. “Yes?”

“Permission to wage war on them next semester?” As Mr. Sturgeon began to shake his head, Bruno added quickly, “Seeing as they stole school property, and all. Boots’s bed is still missing. Doesn’t that count for anything?”

The headmaster smiled. “Those girls. They have such an interesting sense of humor. But they’re very well-mannered, I’ll say that. Miss Scrimmage has done some good after all.”

Bruno and Boots exchanged a confused glance. “Sir?” Boots asked cautiously.

“Well, they told me of their plans, of course. They even asked permission if they could remove the bed, seeing as it was school property and they didn’t want me to worry.” Mr. Sturgeon reached between them and plucked up a piece of bacon from Bruno’s plate. Shocked into stillness, Bruno only stared. “Of course, I told them that I couldn’t allow them to take school property.”

He crunched into the bacon in obvious pleasure. “But seeing as I am responsible for that same property… I could certainly have it removed myself.”

Boots’s jaw dropped.

Mr. Sturgeon inspected the bacon strip. “Very good this morning. Perhaps I’ll have another. Merry Christmas again, boys. And happy hunting.”

He resumed his stroll, humming ‘Jingle Bells’ as he went, and left the entire table staring after him.

Silence.

And then a great chorus of laughter, swelling until the rest of the boys were looking over in confusion, and all Bruno and Boots could do was lace their fingers together and join in.

(Don't forget, these daily do's are all up in a full fic format over on Ao3. I may return to this fic for some editing and epilogue in the new year, and all updated will reflect there instead of here on tumblr.)

#fanfic advent #join the chorus fic #bruno and boots #macdonald hall #this was uhhhhh too much fun so maybe watch out for more fic in the future?#maybe

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redfoxrunt · 11 months

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So, hey babes. The like, two of you who probably aren't reading the blog anyway, and all of the hot singles in my area. Just feels more like... talking to the potential of someone here than on Dreamwidth, where the follower count is one account. This is gonna be crazy, but I'm fairly sure I already warned you (nonspecific) about that in the header or pinned post or whatnot; it's what you get, right?

Talking about my parents.

I'm in an insanely unique position, being the child that my parents lost. You don't really get perspective like that from most cases, and yet. I also have it on two levels, rather than just one; first I was the child that was estranged from them, stopped returning calls, etc., and then the child that died. I assume they were at my funeral, but maybe not. I honestly can't even tell if, under the circumstances, they would have been notified that I died. How much of it was in the news? How much information are you entitled to if you're not listed as a contact for the person who's dead? Like, the whole thing is a fucking mess, and obviously I wasn't there to witness any of it, so yeah.

It's not because they did a bad job with me (or D, for that matter.) We always got the best in life as far as they could provide, we were middle class and privileged in that our parents loved each other and loved us and practiced good parenting to the degree that two human beings can. Sometimes they were tired, sometimes they were pissed off, sometimes we tired them, but at the end of the day we were always loved, and that's not something you can take for granted in life. I guess that's part of the problem, though, like - as shitty and entitled as that sounds. Because after Danny died, it was like... the illusion shattered. I spent weeks back home after, because I couldn't exist in my own skin with what had happened and what I'd seen and what I couldn't understand or put into words or any of it, and the child part of me was like... when things are scary and don't make sense, you go home. Real home, not your flat where you're all alone and all the sounds from outside freak you out like you've never heard your neighbours exist before. And the reality check was when none of that helped. My parents didn't come to my bedroom (guest bedroom; they'd repurposed the house since we moved out, like normal people tend to do) for more than to let me know dinner's served or to ask me if I wanted to go out for a little while. And when I didn't, that was all. The realisation that that was all they could do, that no amount of me crying would have them bring my brother back, it killed something in me that I didn't even know I'd had before then. I realised that I can't go home because home isn't this magical safe space where everything will be alright, even though they'd taught me that as a kid. Home had always been the magical place where you go to make everything better, but after D's death, after the funeral, it felt just as fake as - you know? Like a staged play. Nothing in it was real anymore, everything I'd been taught was a lie, and the world is a shitty, horrible, fucked up place that doesn't care about you or your loss or your grief or your pleas. And your parents are just people. And I guess I hated them for it, because they'd lied to me that they were something omnipotent when all along they were just people, just like me, just as powerless and unable to change anything that had happened or would happen next or ever. Blowing on a bruise never did fuck all to heal it. It's all a fucking lie.

So, I don't know how much anybody else knows about what I did after that, I have a really skewed idea of how much of that is "known" and how much of it I just think should be known, but once I got back on my feet, I was vengeful as fuck and not thinking straight. Part of my revenge was to cut my parents off. Stop answering calls, one word text messages if I needed to reply to something, and when they did what I was clearly asking them to do which was leave me the fuck alone and stop trying to poke their noses into my life, I saw that as further proof that I was right to be angry at them for... failing me, or Danny, or something. For not being fucking wizards.

So that's child loss on child loss for them. I don't recall really thinking about it much at the time. I don't think I was thinking much in general, period, it's just - every time they'd contact me, I'd get this surge like heartburn but in my veins and get this urge to chuck my fucking phone at a wall or out the window. Like fuck off from my life, stop reminding me of everything that's wrong, stop trying to approach me like I'm being unreasonable, because what I feel and how I'm acting is the most reasonable thing in the world. "Tim you need help" just reinforces that there's no help to be had and I'm in this shit alone and other people just make it worse because when I look at them, I know they're the same as me. Nobody can do anything about anything. And it's the sense of powerlessness that I can't take, right? That feeling that we're all just lying to ourselves and each other about having control.

I don't have the energy or interest to go into the rest of that story. There isn't much to talk about in terms of my parents anyway, since I'd cut them off. But it's a sore subject to talk about, like most things, when we try to approach it with D here. When I'm not ignoring he exists to begin with because I just fucking cannot and what am I even supposed to do with any of this, it's still like we're mostly making small-talk about subjects that barely matter while maybe tapping the ice on shit we really need to be talking about with a thin stick, because that's all the ice can take. Diving into child memorial pages, child loss blogs, etc. was both accidental and the bravest and most direct thing we've done so far to address any of it. Felt good to do it together, and just not say a thing while at it. Just experience that side by side and know that he's feeling what I'm feeling and thinking what I'm thinking and that's enough for now. He's joked that maybe it's in the genes for us, the not being able to address things, not wanting to talk. He's better at it than I am, though. At least he tries. I don't know if I'm trying or if I'm just being led along like a blind ass, but either way, it's things we've got to get to if I ever want to feel... less like shit again, I guess. It's fucked trying to do this without a proper therapist but then again talking to a therapist didn't really work the first time around, and now we don't have one to go to. But yeah, reading through all of that was soothing in some sense, which is also fucked up. It's feelings that I haven't gotten to yet. Something about like, maybe I did matter a little after all. Maybe I and my life were beautiful to them. Maybe they saw me like that, too. I don't know. All I feel most days is a failure, or burden, or just not good enough for anybody. So... yeah. Guess that's pretty much all.

#brave boy blogging tonight in this house and tagging this as #tim stoker #in case literally anybody out there cares to read about this.#I'm just an imaginary guy from the void don't mind me in your tags.#grief #personal #explain? explain what? no I won't.

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evafoxz · 18 days

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— kaipaedyn headers. 🪙

like/reblog if you save or use.

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maddiesflame · 3 months

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Powerless headers

like/reblog if saved © maddiesflame

#headers #powerless #chestnut springs #elsie silver #jasper gervais #sloane winthrop #book headers #jaspersloane #powerless headers #book header #header #jasper x sloane #header books #romance books

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kimageddon · 2 years

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A Prince of Dathomir - Chapter 87

Contains/Warnings: some sexual content, making out; nothing too explicit.

Chapter Summary: Zaiya answers some questions for the Clone Cadets.

Downtime - Part 1

Hands slid over the plush curve of her hips, her tattooed fingers dragged down the planes of his muscled back and then back up to grip his shoulders. Her whole body felt hot. His mouth ghosted her neck, ragged breaths against her throat. Even that was enough to make her back arch against the hot, firm body that loomed over her. She was caged by him, his large, strong hands worshipping every pale inked inch of her skin. A shiver ran through her as she looked up.

Gold eyes glowed in the gloom.

Hungry.

Intense.

They looked through her into her mind, into her very soul and drew her desires roaring to the surface. She could not hide from him. With a look he could reach in with a silent demand and she would have no choice. No, not even that. It made it seem like she was not willing. No, with a look she would gladly fall to him, gaze up into those eyes and let him have her at his whim. She was powerless to him, but by her own choice. She would give him that.

Give him all of her.

The hand not pressed to the soft sheets beside her slid back up her body from her soft but thick thighs, over the soft, slightly plump belly, skated the swell of her large breasts and her breath hitched, her own hands trembling, daring not to move as he touched her. Then as his hand found a home around her throat it was like a jolt of electricity ran up her spine. Her eyes rolled as he leaned in, her own body practically liquid to his command. Her moan was more of a rasp, though he did not squeeze hard, just enough for her to feel it. Enough for her breath to catch again and to know he was in control. She melted at once and from the flash of his teeth she could tell he was enjoying it. Her fingers weakly dug into his arms, a pathetic attempt to keep him there.

“This is what you crave, is it not?” he whispered his gaze searching her face.

“Yes,” she replied breathily, “Yes, sire.”

“Ah,” he squeezed her neck a little more firmly, reminding her of his previous request.

“M-Maul…!” she corrected, and he grinned.

“Much better,” he leaned in and his sweet and wicked mouth captured hers. Her eyes rolled back yet again, any touch he gave her was so pleasurable, so addicting. She craved his touch, his kiss, his voice… anything of him, all of him. He moved to pull back and her teeth captured his lower lip dragging across the tattooed skin until it slipped from her grasp. There was a heavy pause before he dove back in, inflamed by her semi-bite and growled slightly against her hot mouth.

So, he liked that.

“Is this what you want?” he whispered. He was unsure? She looked him over and realised, no, he knew she wanted this, wanted him, but he wanted to hear it. Her arms slid around him, as if to punctuate her words with her desire to have him close.

“Yes… Maul…” saying his name still felt so sacred. “I want this, I want you, I want you more than I have ever wanted anything in this galaxy…” she breathed, fingers of one hand brushed his stomach, barely touching his scar but she felt him shudder. He bit his lip and it awoke something deep in her belly, a heat blooming within her at the sight.

“I need you. I crave you…” she hissed, kissing his jaw. She heard the soft intake of his breath. “You are everything I have ever wanted… all I want…” Her kisses trailed higher up his jaw, reaching his ear, and she felt him tense. Her warm pressed softly to his ear, full lips parting to capture the lobe, tugging on it slightly. A low purr escaped him and she felt him shiver. Her breath fanned across his ear as she whispered again.

“Only you… always you…” Her teeth gently closed over the silver piercing, her tongue flicking across it and all strength left him instantly.

He all but collapsed on her and the sound he made was nothing short of sinful. She felt herself clench around nothing, the sound striking something deep in her core. She wanted to hear it again. Her lips and tongue joined her gentle bite and his moan was a little louder, both hands now gripping her waist and hips tightly. She could feel him press against her, the warm weight of his body on hers. His breathing became heavier and a groan escaped him as she continued to nibble on his ear. Who would have thought they were so sensitive…?

“Maul…” she breathed and he let out a deep, almost agonised groan, and one of his hands slid down, and down… Thick fingers curled against her inner thigh, and her smooth creamy legs parted for him, her teeth bit a little harder and he hissed. Instantly she released him - had she hurt him? --but his hands gripped her tighter. Gods she hoped she had bruises there later…

“Don’t stop…!” he commanded in a strained groan of pleasure and she whimpered pathetically in response, “again…!”

She did as he commanded, her teeth bit down again and she felt his hands drag across her thigh and his palm against her lower stomach, teasing her, but his hands twitched as her tongue explored the contours of his ear.

“Perfect…” he moaned softly, his hand slid lower, towards the aching source of heat. Slick with delicious agony, she needed him so badly it hurt. Strong hands pried her pliant thighs apart, one leg wrapped around his hips.

“Please…” she gasped against his ear. She needed this, needed him. The ache was almost unbearable. Her hips rocked upward, urging him onward.

His fingers trailed--

----

A shrill beeping interrupted her blissful and embarrassing dream. She was hot all over, the sheet clung to her. Fanged God’s left nipple, she needed a bath… or a dunk in the freezing ocean outside. What was wrong with her?! She sat up slowly. She was in her quarters on Kamino. She’d been back for a few weeks now, having been significantly chided by more or less everyone for her lack of self care and her little excursion. Luckily she had not had to explain exactly where she had been.

Maul had not taken it well. Seeing him in the dream state he had raged at her for her foolishness. He was not wrong, of course. She wondered for a moment why he had looked so frightened, before realising that was foolish. Why would he even be frightened? She must have imagined it. Stupid thing to do really, getting so angry that she lost control.

He was pleased how she handled the neimoidian, though he had become wide-eyed and furious at the mention of the knife. He wasn’t the only one. The medics on Kamino lectured her, as did Shaak-Ti, as did Rex and Fox and Alpha when she had contacted them for their regular chats.

She was sure to look after herself from here…. If only to shut them all up. She didn’t even know why they were getting so upset. The medics said she would have still had several hours before she was in serious trouble. She did agree however that injuries made her job a little harder. She was not fully mobile until a week later, and even then it still hurt. Though she knew how to deal with the pain.

Now however she peeled the sheets from her sweaty body and forced herself to the ‘fresher. At least she had a private one. She decided to get herself cleaned up, she had a few plans for the day regarding the cadets and the dream team of enhanced clones. Officially the Kaminoans had classed them as Clone Force 99 for the sake of their serial numbers, but they had taken to calling themselves the Bad Batch from the last month or so… though she suspected it was from the mocking nickname the regular clones had given them.

There was something she had to take to them, a little surprise for her star squad; and she wanted the help of Ninety-Nine when she enacted her plan. She tried to focus on that and not the dream that burned in her mind.

The rumour of her capture had already made its rounds of the City in the past week or so, and she found herself battling the attentions of the ever curious cadets and their incessant questions. She should tell them to kriff off… though it’s not easy when they look at her with big eyes and smiles… Winged Goddess she was getting soft.

Zaiya sat in the mess hall when sure enough some of the cadets approached and sat opposite her. The two in the middle she recognised, they’d been the ones that had approached her before. She didn’t say anything at first, not even looking up from her datapad while she ate. They stared at her and she could feel them burning a hole in her.

“Do you require something, CT-9415?” she asked, hoping he’d at least gotten a name for himself this time, she hated to refer to the men by their numbers.

“You …remember me?” he asked, sounding surprised.

“You and your friend, though the other two I have not met,” she admitted, still not having looked up, “do you have a name I may call you?”

There was a pause, “i-it’s Hardcase, ma’am-- I mean, Lieutenant-General,” he sputtered, “this is Soul, Dogma and Tup.” He gestured to the others and this time she looked up to take each of them in. She gave a nod and looked back to her datapad.

“If we’re interrupting, Lieutenant-General--” Dogma began.

“Since you have already interrupted me, you may as well make it worth it,” she replied with a slight shrug and took another bite of her food.

“It is true--”

“Probably not.” There was a longer pause and Zaiya sighed as she rolled her neck, feeling it crack and relieve a little tension. She pushed her lunch tray to one side, laid down the data pad and folded her arms on the table before her, giving them her undivided attention this time. She looked at each of them, looking a mix of hesitant and disappointed, almost like children that had just been told ‘no’.

“You have three minutes,” she said patiently. Alpha would laugh at her about now. She waited for the questions to come, about the capture, or the invasion or the ARCs.

“Oh!” Hardcase brightened. “Is it true you taught the Commanders songs?” She blinked. Well, that was not what question she’d been expecting. “Soul wanted to know,” Hardcase gestured to the clone beside him with the sides of his head shaved, the top left long and -somehow- straightened. She didn’t realise they were allowed to have hair straighteners. He seemed more slender than his brothers, and had a bright look in his eye. Despite his shy expression, he somehow managed to be the most baby-faced among them, and yet they all had a similar way about them. Little baby batch. She pursed her lips so as not to smile.

“It is,” she replied, letting her amusing little thought pass. Soul was an interesting name for a soldier.

“Can-can you teach us some?” Hardcase pleaded, so far he was the only one talking, the other three were bashful and she was reminded of Ninety-Nine a little.

“That will take longer than three minutes,” she observed, but he seemed to take it as an outright rejection and he deflated, his ever-bright smile fading. Winged Goddess help her. “One song, I haven’t much time today.” She shifted and stood, picking up the datapad, gesturing to them to follow along with her.

“Lieutenant…?” Hardcase queried, looking confused.

“Well I am not about to start something in the middle of the mess,” she said as she gestured to the room around her. The four clones were quick to follow her along the corridor toward her office.

“Is it true you took a blaster bolt for ARC Captain Alpha-17?” the one called Dogma asked with a sudden burst of energy. She smirked slightly as she walked beside him.

“That was what I was expecting you to ask,” she chuckled, “it was more of a graze really,” she shrugged. She tried to minimise such enquiries, as she didn’t wish to brag nor have the troopers expect more from her than she was able to give. She was not some war hero, she just did what she needed to. She could feel them looking at each other behind her shoulder.

“So it’s also true about… that you’re… you’re family…?” Another interesting question, this time Tup was the one to ask, her agreement to teach them something must have broken whatever apprehensions they had.

“Yes,” she nodded, “for my part at least.” Even without her connection to Jango she felt a kinship with them after having been around them for the last few months. They reached her office and she tossed the datapad to the desk as she turned to face them. She gestured to the lounge and table in the ‘reception’ area of her office, they didn’t immediately sit so she took a seat on one of the arms of the couch. “Come, sit, you’re making the place look untidy,” she insisted, and at the “command”.

Dogma was quick to drop into the seat opposite her, his posture rigid and as though he were itching to salute her. Tup and Soul gingerly lowered themselves into their own seats and Hardcase was eager to take the spot closest to her, looking up with bright eyes and an even brighter smile.

“So, you want to learn a song, do you?” she looked at Soul directly who ducked his head a little under the weight of her gaze. “Sing me something.” This time his head snapped up and he looked at her with wide eyes. She just nodded to confirm what he’d heard. “If I know what you sound like, I can teach you something to suit.”

“He’s a pretty good singer…!” Hardcase interjected, he seemed excited. “We always hear him singing or humming, don’t we?” he looked to Dogma and Tup who nodded in agreement. Soul rubbed the back of his neck, put on the spot all of a sudden, but he seemed to come up with something, looking away as though the words came to him from the air somewhere before him. Perhaps they did…

“Beginnin' to think that I'm wastin' time

I don't understand the things I do

The world outside looks so unkind

Now I'm countin' on you to carry me through

Oh, give me the beat, boys, and free my soul

I wanna get lost in your rock 'n' roll and drift away…” it was a soft and gentle song but even from the first word she could feel a passion in him that burned like a star. She nodded her head along with his words and closed her eyes, drifting as the song suggested.

His voice was beautiful, warm, soothing. It was so strange. It was a sense of ‘home’, a feeling of surety that all was well. It was the sensation she imagined when others described what home felt like to them.

Once he had finished, she couldn’t help the little smile on her face. She leaned back against the desk and her eyes opened slowly. She always heard music, in every being, in the little sounds around her. It felt like she finally had met another that ‘heard’ the world like she did. It was comforting and she melted just a little, in spite of herself. She knew a song to teach him. Her lips curled and she looked back at him with a chuckle.

“Mesh’la,” she murmured with a nod, “I think I know one you might like…” she sat up straighter, the music turning in air around her, unheard to all but her. Then she began to sing.

Her voice was vastly different to Soul’s, he sounded like a warm comforting autumn sunset, and hers sounded like the overcast skies near a grey ocean, cold, mysterious in comparison. As though a Siren of the old worlds had indeed called to them and beckoned them to follow. She felt the Force ripple and shift, Soul’s eyes becoming wider than his brothers’ and the bittersweet tune seemed to affect him the most. Hardcase beside her, his eyes glittering in wonder as the song faded into silence. The three stared at her for a moment, as though she had indeed cast a spell on them. A knock to her door broke the moment and Zaiya looked over as the metal slid open, her lips parting in a smile.

“A-am I interrupting?” Ninety-Nine asked.

“Not at all, Ninety-Nine, I was just teaching the baby batch here a little tune I know,” she smirked and Hardcase let out a snort.

“Baby batch?!” he laughed, seeming to find her affectionate term for them rather amusing. She arched a brow and raised a crooked finger to nudge the underside of his chin in order to tilt his face up a little.

“Look at your sweet cadet faces, huh?” she teased. An odd, lidded look crossed his face and she realised her actions were too forward and quickly withdrew. They were still soldiers of course and fully capable… but there was something like innocence about them. It reminded her of Ninety-Nine if she were honest and she wished to protect them. She knew they did not need it, nor could she do so… but the thought was there.

“Oh that sounds like a mighty treat for the boys!” Ninety-Nine chuckled, “I can come back later?” he asked as he approached, the only fully grown clone to be shorter than her, and she bent at the waist to meet his eye.

“Nonsense, Ninety-Nine, we have work to do, you and I, and I need you for a very important task.” He grinned at that and she turned back to the others and straightened. “It seems our time must be cut short, but I shall search the holo-net for some of the songs I know and can bring them to you if you like, Soul…?” Soul himself seemed a little startled when she spoke to him directly and he nodded.

“I-I’d like that,” he managed and a pleased smile crossed her mouth, she leaned down to address Ninety-Nine again.

“Have you had the pleasure of Soul’s singing…?” she asked, “He’d give me a run for my money anyday.”

“Now that sounds like something to behold,” the withered clone’s eyes crinkled at the edges and she could see the warmth and affection he had for his brothers in them. The other three moved and she stood straight, there was a question in Hardcase’s eyes but before she had time to address it, Ninety-Nine spoke up.

“Are you sure we have time?” he seemed worried as she dipped a third time to see his face. A word was not enough to soothe him and she laid a hand on his shoulder, a gentle touch, just enough to assure him she was serious.

“Yes, I will always make time for you,” his eyes widened slightly, perhaps due to her soft tone, but he seemed to cheer up, his smile growing to split his face with happiness. She looked back to Hardcase who had finally come to his question.

“Why do you do that?” he blurted.

“Do what?” she quirked a brow at him.

“The--” he bent down sideways the same way she had been doing. “--thing,”

“I don’t like to look down on Ninety Nine when I speak to him,” she replied simply. She looked between them as they stared at her. Why did so many of the clones look at her like that? A second later she was startled by arms around her torso and she jolted, looking down in alarm to see Hardcase was now latched to her side.

He was… hugging her.

Notes: Here we are again! Thank you my friends for reading another soft and gentle chapter of APOD. I figured we needed one after the last one ended with her somewhat skewered. As promised, the second APOD chapter for you in celebration of my birthday! Also, as mentioned, I will post a chapter of Sins this week, so if you also read that then there is a bonus over there too! I hope you liked it!

As always, thank you so so much for previous comments and if you wish to leave a comment or some feedback, then please please do! If you wanna see art of Zaiya or fanart or commissions I have gotten done of her, checkout my tumblr - my username is kimageddon over there too. I hope you all have a wonderful week and had a great weekend, and I look forward to seeing you next week we will see how this hugging this works out for Hardcase, and see what Zaiya has planned for the Bad Batch! See you then!

Taglist! @two-black-leviathans @fallenrepublick @eyecandyeoz @ashotofspotchka @sitherin-mxschief @littlepossss @octupus-on-the-moon @justalittletomato @nxctuaryninetythree @mach-opress @mustluvecho @nahoney22 @leotatombs @eloquentmoon @the-chains-are-the-easy-part @maulslittlemeowmeow @misogirl828 @alwayssnivellus @stardustbee @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @bacarasbabe @morganlefaye13

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whiteswaninsaturn · 2 months

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credit : thanks to canva for inspiring me create the header

I'm a leo girl and it's always said that mostly leo people are people pleaser. Well it means we're not as scary as a Lion we have compassion and we can give to anyone too much.

Look among those zodicas Leo is one of biggest people pleaser. Do you think i believe the zodiac theory that what make me people pleaser it's because i'm a Leo gurl with fire-sign . Well, it's absolutely untrue. I'm a professional people pleaser because my father want me to be that kind of person. My father was passed away 7 years ago. He had been through the horrific time in his life since cancer undermine his body. It was made a powerful man into powerless old man with no hope. I never feel Daddy's compassion or love in my life and so does my younger sister. We grew up fatherless and when he died we doesn't even surprise to our new situation of being raise with single parent. It was already like that since i was born which means 24 years ago and 19 years ago for my little sister. Mom is everything for both of us, as 2 daughters that used to live with vicious father it feels like victory for us or perhaps only for me. Papa was always wanted everything's perfect so in his mind 'Life must be Perfect' from that mindset we know he wasn't a wise man. He's a workaholic with wonderful fundamental which is something i adore and i apply it now as a mediocre office staff. My papa expected his first born was a boy however it was dissapointed news for him to know that it was a girl and it is me. Maybe i already dissapointed him since I was in his wife womb before the new series of dissapoinment he would face.

I was a girl with unattractive appearance . I'm not saying i'm attractive now but at least i made progress and i look better. I look cleaner and finally make up can completely applied on my face. Back then i used make up and it was jut melted, cracked, like the products were refuse to be applied on my bumpy face.

credit : dashmagazine.com via pinterest (i don't know who's the artist whoever you are, You are amazing) That was me 12 years ago. I had my acne when i was 12 - 22 years old (THAT'S FUCKIN SUCK). My father told me in a restaurant which mean we were in public spaces he said I look like a monster because i have severe acne. Well my reaction was only about to cry but i held it until we got home. He enrolled me to music courses i was excited at that time, I was thinking i would learn guitar but ended up i learned keyboad. My mom said she registered me to had guitar class but my father changed it on my first day lesson to join keyboard class. Both my mom and I couldn't do anything not made any argument. Luckily my little sister felt the same thing, at least my father was playing fair here. The reason he altered the plan was just because he thinks it's not that classy for a girl play guitar, guitar it's not something grande, everyone can be guitarist just being autodidact. Guitar is an instrument everyone can reach it doesn't need a big-fancy room to place it. That was a very deep thinking papa, well as 13 yo teenager at that time i was only grumpy but now as i grow up i just realized my father unconsiously make his children brainstorming of his mindset. He sent me to kindergarten 1 when i was 3 yo just because he didn't enjoy anymore to walk with me in the morning before he left to work. He forced me to be in science class in high-school although it was out of my capability but i tried so hard to get smart score so i could fit the requirement lucky me I passed it i was part of those cool-smart students, Unfortunately, through 3 years in school my rank was 36/40 students. It was obviously said ' you are not belong here'. I can't tell the details of being raises with absent father. I will make a new post sharing about that topic. Well, I think i'm deserve to grab an Oscar I claim myself confidently i have oscar acting skills due to I used to acting in front my father. Not being my true-self. If i made mistake , sick , misbehave as a normal human being do, not an extraordinary, not having a good look He would scolded me, if i choose something he doesn't keen on or eat something he doesn't like. He also mad at me. Like why would I do thing he doesn't like?. So the way i acted and spoke just only to please him. At the other side to protect myself from his temper. I could say I nailed it sometimes and failed it most of time. I always unexpectedly awful in my father eyes. He said i'm lesser than anyone i'm not good enough and worthless. He always make me unworthy.

via: Pinterest Nevertheless, i learn that if you are a people pleaser you are likeable, you have more friends and people mistake you as a very nice person in fact you are just a people pleaser. You feel deeply guilty when you can't complete or help someone else mission. I used to be a person my father wants me to be = I can be a person society expect me to be. I never knew i'm a people pleaser if my friends don't tell me, i was just ignore what they said because i didn't understand. As long as i still get along with my friends i am okay. There's nothing wrong with me. I feel easy for building my friendship just being like this. I never get myself in trouble moreover enemy.

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nikhilshoutrank · 1 year

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