#Death metal teaches you life skills

[twitcheye]

I went to Fred Meyer yesterday. They’ve had Christmas shit up since before Halloween but where that was restrained in comparison, they have gone full “Santa Claus exploded, turns out he was full of glitter” now. I tried to maneuver my cart around a woman who was wearing a sweatshirt that said “Ho Ho HOLIDAYS!” but she kept changing course, darting in front of me, hyperventilating and yelling “Oh my GOODNESS” and grabbing at things.

One of the end caps was full of toddler-sized gnomes, those things that are super popular right now that are just a hat and beard with a nose sticking out. They look like somebody put a hat on a tiny penis that’s sticking out of a topiary clump of pubes to me. You know, these things:

…only these things at Fred Meyer were huge and made of plastic and lit up or something. I don’t know, I was trying not to look at them very much, the way I avoid looking at all dicks somebody is trying to show me in public.

The woman in the Ho Ho Holidays shirt was overcome with emotion. “Oh my GAAAAAWD” she said, in my direction, motioning to the gnomes. “Aren’t these THECUTIESTTHINGS YOUEVERDIDSEE”. I tried to avoid eye contact. She lunged in front of my cart, waving a gnome. “DON‘TCHA WANT TO EATEMUPTHEYRESO KEEEEEUUUUWWWWWWWT”

I panicked, and I did what I always do in these situations: I pretended I didn’t speak English. “Vārna vārnai acī neknābj,” I said, nodding. She looked confused. “Es tevi milu,” I added. (What I said was: “A crow will not pick out the eyes of another crow” and “I love you” in Latvian.). She smiled and nodded at me. “It’s a lil’ ELF,” she said, shaking the gnome. I switched languages. “Jävlar i min lilla låda!” I said. (“Hot DAMN” or literally, “there are devils in my little box” in Swedish). “It’s for CHRISMUSS” she said. “Ja!” I said, waving. “MerryCHRISMUSS” she said. “Dra åt helvete,” I observed, smiling. (‘Go to hell” in Swedish.) We grinned at each other. I steered my cart around her. “Perkele,” I said in Finnish. “Sielunvihollinen!” I said. (“Devils” and “Enemy of the soul”). “You too!” she said, cheerily. We parted from each other, both very pleased with our interactions.

[e-dubbc11]

Kill or Be Killed

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: Violence, swear words, mentions of abuse, death, sexual reference but PG-13, little fluff

Word Count: 2K-ish

Summary: Billy helps you get rid of a problem

A/N: This a little over the top, I’ll admit it. But whatever, I do what I want 🤣

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

Bright red blood slowly trickled down the blade and dripped onto the floor as you stood over him and watched life leave his body. There was a feeling of satisfaction when the light faded from his sad, pitiful eyes but you found it difficult to control your breathing. The shallow movements of your chest expanded and retracted rapidly with every sharp inhale and exhale.

It had been easier than you thought it was going to be. The blade had basically done the hard work for you as it penetrated his skin like it was warm butter. Billy showed you where to stab Cole if he ever came after you again and, if you were able to, twist it so the wound wouldn’t close.

“His lungs will fill up with blood, cutting off the oxygen he needs to breathe.” He had said, all with a sly smile across his lips. “He’ll be gasping for air like a dying fucking fish.”

Billy loved showing you how to defend yourself and the desire you had to learn his ways, turned him on. It made him hard watching you practice self-defense moves or with his Ka-Bar. Billy’s skills were unmatched in hand-to-hand combat, you were learning from the best and no one would ever put their hands on you again. And if they did, they’d pay dearly for it.

The look in Cole’s eyes silently said he regretted stalking you, threatening you and, underestimating you. The words he had hissed into your ear the last time he saw you played over and over again in your head…”You don’t have the guts to kill me! You’re too weak!” And as he lay there wide eyed and dying on your bedroom floor, he knew he had made a big mistake and that you weren’t afraid of him anymore.

The meek and mild girl was gone and replaced with someone he didn’t recognize.

The heart beating inside his chest had been waiting to be silenced. You knew it wasn’t possible but you swore those quick heartbeats of his was the noise you heard thumping loudly in your ears, egging you on and taunting you into smothering the sound of it echoing inside the room.

“Are you weak like he said, sweet girl? Hmmm?” Billy had asked you sharply, his onyx colored eyes narrowed but didn't break eye contact.

In his slight New York accent, his voice was soft and harsh at the same time. You should have been frightened but Billy would never hurt you…he loved you.

Vigorously shaking your head, you replied, “No…I’m not weak, Billy. I’m not!”

“Then show me, baby.” He said, handing you the knife as his lips curled back away from his gnashed teeth.

Billy had you practice day after day, cutting up the dummies and slicing them where it would do the most damage, the places where a real person would bleed out in minutes.

“Ya know what a sharp blade feels like slicing your flesh, y/n? It feels as if the metal has been heated by a torch, almost like the skin is burning even though it��s not. That’s what he’s gonna feel. It’s easy to shoot someone but to actually puncture their flesh, to feel the knife go in, and then to smell the blood on the blade when you pull it out, it’s a high I can’t put into words, exactly.” He had said in a sinister tone.

Billy’s words sent restless shivers down your spine, his handsome features contorted with rage, and you knew you couldn’t live your life the way you had been anymore…on edge. The marks and bruises weren’t physically there but you still saw them sometimes when you looked at your reflection in the mirror. “Teach me,” you had said to Billy.

You didn’t want to be scared of a crazy ex-boyfriend that could be waiting around every corner for you or at the end of a dark alleyway.

Cole had made a promise to you. With his hands firmly around your throat, he promised you would die before anyone else could have you and you would have to kill him if you wanted to stop him. Those were his last words before you plunged the Ka-Bar right into his chest, puncturing his lung just like Billy said it would.

The strong copper scent of Cole’s blood on your knife flooded your sense of smell after you removed it from his chest and your taste buds were picking up the metallic taste of the blood particles in the air.

You weren’t left with any other choice. A restraining order was just a piece of paper; it didn’t stop him from breaking into your home or when he tried to strangle you while you slept. The only thing that would stop him was a hole through his chest.

“Still think I’m weak, asshole?” You had asked Cole curtly through gritted teeth as he clutched his chest, choking on his own blood and unable to breathe.

Billy was used to the kill. He was a scout sniper in the marines and it wasn’t very often but, even now, he still had to take a life when it was necessary, but this was your first time taking someone’s life.

You didn’t want to but Cole wasn’t going to stop, there wasn’t another way out of this except with someone’s death and it wasn’t going to be yours.

You had to beg Billy to let you do this yourself and deep down he knew you could get the job done but it didn’t mean he liked it.

“That’s why you have me! I’m here to protect you!" Shouted Billy.

You brushed his beard gently with your thumbs. “I know you are baby, but I CAN do this and it’s because you showed me how.”

And you made Cole pay. For every horrible thing he had ever done to you, you made him pay with his life. The loud rolls of thunder muffled his raw screams of pain as you pulled the knife from his chest and he fell onto the floor.

You posed the question, “You still think I don’t have the guts to kill you, Cole?” And right on cue, you heard a deafening boom of thunder overhead and saw a bright flash of lightning. It was like a scene right out of a movie where the heroine saves herself from being tormented by the big bad villain.

As you watched Cole’s life fade away into nothing, you tried to stop the devilish smile from stretching across your lips so you just let it happen.

He wouldn’t be able to hurt you ever again, he was gone, lying dead at your feet and you had done that. Your sinister laugh quickly shifted into fresh sobs while you still gripped the blade tightly in your hand.

The rain began to hammer against the window after a loud clap of thunder split the air. Cole’s blood pooled underneath him, spread along the wood floor and stained the white t-shirt he was wearing. You loomed above him with tears streaming down your cheeks, trying to stop your hands from shaking.

With your free hand, you balled it into a fist, clenching it until your nails were digging hard into your skin, leaving marks on your palm while you took a deep breath and forcefully exhaled.

But your heart began to race once again when you heard him call out your name. It was coming from the front door.

“Y/N! Tell me where you are baby, NOW!” Shouted Billy.

The tension in your back and shoulders eased when you heard his voice. And you knew he would stay close by no matter how many times you said you could do this on your own.

“I’m in the bedroom, Billy!” You choked out.

You saw the barrel of a gun pointing into your bedroom, his long agile fingers wrapped tightly around it followed by the rest of his body and very relieved to see his handsome face.

Billy looked at you, down at the floor where Cole was, and then at the knife in your hand. With relief in his eyes, he quickly holstered his gun and hurried over to you.

Your shirt was covered in blood, Cole’s blood but Billy didn’t care, he pulled you flush with his chest anyway to try and soothe you.

“It’s alright, sweet girl. I’m here, ssshhh. He’s gone.” He whispered into your ear.

“I killed him, Billy!” You sobbed into his shirt.

Billy grabbed the sides of your face and tilted it up to look at him.

“You listen to me! He didn’t give you a choice! He wouldn’t have stopped until he took you away from me! The police didn’t give you a choice! What did they give you? Huh? A piece of fucking paper!!” He yelled.

His intense brown eyes appeared darker than you had ever seen them, full of concern and relief at the same time. Those eyes were filled with…love and love only for you. Billy then carefully looked at the marks Cole left on your neck, making sure he wasn’t hurting you.

In barely more than a whisper, you looked down at Cole and said, “I know I shouldn’t say this but I’m glad he’s dead.”

Your own words caused goosebumps to erupt across your skin. You never thought you would say that about anyone because you were brought up to believe that there has to be good in everyone, right?

But you found out the hard way that that wasn’t true. There are people out there who are just pure evil. Billy knew that from the way he grew up and everything he had gone through in his life. He was hardened by life, that’s why it was easier for him to kill.

“I watched him die, Billy. There was a brief moment where I understood what you meant about the high you get from the scent of someone else’s blood that you’ve killed. I couldn’t help but smile, almost like I enjoyed it…but then I broke down.” You said softly.

Billy’s fingers danced up and down your spine as he said, “You’re not like me, sweet girl. You’re the most beautiful person I know, inside and out. You’re not broken and soulless, that’s why it’s easier for me. I feel nothing when I kill.”

“That’s not all that you are, Billy. I wouldn’t be with someone I didn’t think had a soul. I know they were all bad people.” You said with a slight smile against his chest.

“And so was Cole, my love.” Said Billy, kissing the top of your head like he always did.

The late night sky was vengeful tonight just as you had been. The rage burned like white hot fire inside as you felt yourself use whatever strength you had left to fight Cole off and stay alive.

Billy held you in silence with nothing but the pinging of the rain against the windows and you squeezed him back, thanking him for being there, for teaching you, and for loving you.

“I love you, Billy. And you are a good man. You’ve always been good to me.” You whispered against his chest.

You could feel him smile against the top of your head as he replied, “I always will be, baby. I love you too.” Billy paused for a minute before he said, “You know what you have to do now.”

Feeling his cool, damp shirt against your cheek, you nodded, pulled away and picked your phone up off of the bed.

A voice on the other end of the phone answered, “9-1-1, what is your emergency?”

You opened your mouth but no words or even sounds came out. The inside of your mouth was dry as a cold spike of fear washed over you and tension tightly gripped your body. With a nod, Billy’s lips curled into a reassuring smile as if to say “Everything’s gonna be alright, sweet girl.”

The voice on the other end of the phone spoke again, “Hello? Are you there?”

As you closed your eyes, you inhaled deeply and let out a long exhale before answering them.

“Yes, I’m still here. I need help. I just…killed an intruder.”

You will be safe from now on.

Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @rafaelakelley @idaoftheburningmind @snowkestrel @fakehappy27 @music-indie-tv @fictional-hooman @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @celestialend @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @rosaleenablack @vaguekayla @qu1etwolf @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @aoi-targaryen

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @jvanilly @ittybxttykxttytxtty @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @russosafehaven @mrsbillyrusso

If you’d like to be added (or removed from) my tag list(s) for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again.

[chaotic-mystery]

Not A Survivalist Girl: Part 4

"Death Over Decaf"

Written by @chaotic-mystery & @tightjeansjavi

(Joel Miller x f!reader)

Summary: What happens when you mix a not so skilled girl and a grumpy old man trying to teach her how to fish and the importance of his coffee? Nothing too bad….right?

Warnings: Implied age gap, slow burn, mean!Joel, dark!Joel, he's a little awkward!Joel, just a grumpy old asshole! Joel, sunshine reader, angst in the beginning, PTSD, trauma, child loss, grumpy vibes, minor injuries (cuts scrapes) heavy on the sexual tension at the end, no smut, (+18) minors dni!

WC: 7.2k (It's for being so patient for almost a month shhh)

Let me know what you think! I love hearing your comments about it! Love you 🖤

Joel Miller relied on his everyday routine to remain consistent. Ever since his brother Tommy ever so nicely ditched him for the fireflies out west, Joel developed this routine to well..keep himself sane. (or as close as he could get to feeling sane) If there were any implications, any disturbances, it would set him off immediately. He always felt like he needed to have a sense of control, and having this routine pacified his internal anger. As long as he had the routine to fall back on, he would be a less grouchy version of himself. He started the morning off like the same as it had been for as long as he could remember. The sun had barely begun to peek through the sky when he pulled himself out of a deep, restless slumber. Joel was lucky if he got more than a few hours of sleep in before the nightmares would plague his mind. He reached over for the framed photo along his wooden dresser. His daughter Sarah had been the most important person in his life before the apocalypse. She was his everything and when he lost her...he doesn’t like to talk about his past and would much rather eat a bullet, than talk about losing his baby girl. Despite the day in, day out pain he felt, he made sure to kiss the photograph every morning when he would wake up, and every night before bed. His cracked lips ghosted over the photograph, eyes fluttering shut as he whispered her name under his breath. He gently set the frame back down before he grumbled at the fluffy pink blanket that he must have wrapped himself in sometime during the night. He felt like the soft fabric was mocking him. He held a personal disdain for the inanimate object as he pushed it to the very end of the bed. “Who the fuck even likes the color pink.” He gruffly muttered to himself. His voice was thick with sleep as he quickly made up his bed before he got dressed in his usual attire. The floorboards were squeaky beneath his heavy boots as he quietly left his bedroom. Hopefully you ended up being a heavier sleeper, because it was way too damn early for Joel to be dealing with you. The unfinished bathroom had a metal water basin as a makeshift sink. He always made sure to replace the water before the end of each day. He splashed his face with the ice cold liquid, hoping it would wake him up a little. A fresh cup of steaming coffee was the only thing on his mind now as he trudged down the hall and into the small kitchen. He filled the wood burning stove with a few logs before using a match to light them. He rubbed his calloused palms together as the cold morning chill bit through his skin. He was going to have to chop down a lot more firewood if he..and well, you were going to survive the impending approach of winter. He kept his bags of coffee in one of the wooden cabinets and he made sure he always had a back up bag for when he started to run low. He could not fathom having a morning without his coffee. He begrudgingly grabbed two mugs this time instead of one. He figured maybe you’d enjoy a cup as well. He was humming softly to himself as he grabbed the bag of coffee beans from the cabinet. The bag felt uncharacteristically light..just the other day he swore it was still pretty full. Maybe his mind was just playing tricks on him. Yeah, that was the only logical answer to–mother fucker. Joel’s blood was instantly ticking a degree higher in temperature when he opened the burlap sack to find that he was in fact all out of coffee. Well, there goes his perfectly planned routine. “Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me? How the hell is it empty? Mother fucker.” He slammed the cabinet door shut with a heavy bang, nearly knocking the door off his hinges. He had completely forgotten the fact that he was not the only person inhabiting the small cabin space. You were just down the hall. Did he really give a flying fuck at that moment? No, not one bit.

The slam of the door made your eyes shoot open in a panic and you laid in the bed for a moment trying to understand what was happening. As you heard Joel cursing up a storm in the kitchen that shared the wall with your room, you rushed to get up and throw some clothes on to see what the hell he was coming undone about this time. There was always something bothering his grumpy ass but this floored you. You had never met someone rude enough to start throwing a fit at the ass crack of dawn while someone is sleeping. 

“Joel cmon what are you shouting about? Do you have any idea what time it is?” You groaned as you leaned against the door frame to the kitchen, scratching your head as you waited for an answer.

Joel had thrown the empty burlap sack down in a fury. His routine was royally fucked and now the dormant rage, was becoming active once again. Simmering deep in his gut like bubbling, molten lava. “What am I shouting about, girlie?! Oh, i’ll fuckin’ tell ya what i’m shoutin’ about. I’m out of coffee. That’s what i’m shoutin’ about.” He snapped “Fuckin’ gonna have to go and get some more. Wasn’t in my plans for the day but I ain’t have much of a fuckin’ choice.” Joel knew his outburst was most definitely unnecessary. He knew it really didn’t boil down to the fact that he was out of coffee, it had to do with the fact that his routine was disturbed, and the situation was currently out of his control. He was gripping his hair tightly between his fingers, tugging on it by the roots as he leaned back against the countertop, muttering to himself. 

Your head turned to his direction slowly and it felt like you didn’t blink for a good minute. Coffee? Coffee is what he was shouting about this entire time? A scoff left your lips and you shook your head in disbelief. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen you get upset about this far. So you don’t have coffee, is it that big of a deal to go and slam shit and yell over? I mean god damn, Joel.” You took a few steps into the kitchen and threw your hands up in the air, shrugging your shoulders in frustration. You weren’t the kindest when you were low on sleep and there wasn’t a chance in hell you’d pretend like you weren’t annoyed by all of this. Joel scoffed under his breath as he dropped his hands from his head. His eyes narrowed in on you when you didn’t even hide your annoyance at his outburst. “Oh, that’s so fuckin’ wonderful that you think that its the dumbest thing, girlie. I didn’t ask for your opinion, now did I? Didn’t think so. If you don’t want to hear me bitch about it, fuckin’ leave then.” He bent down and picked up the empty burlap sack with a huff. “I’m gonna have to go hit my supply stash a few miles from here to get some more.” 

His cold words sent a shiver down your spine and you knew this was only the beginning of a very long day. Sure, you liked coffee just as much as the next person but Joel was taking it to a new level. You sighed and tucked your hair behind your ears and nodded slowly. “Okay, uh no I don’t think it’s that damn serious. Where’s this supply stash you have?” You jumped onto the counter next to him and swayed your legs side to side. Of course you’d go with him to get his stupid coffee if that meant he’d stop being a crabby old man and you could move on to having a good day. “We should probably go soon considering we’re going fishing today, remember we cooked the last bit of meat last night?” Joel had not been expecting you to go and make yourself at home that quickly. So when you had casually hopped up onto the countertop next to him, he quickly sidestepped away so you weren’t so close. “Yeah well..it’s pretty damn serious to me. I can’t live without my coffee, and no, I don’t give a shit if you think i’m bein’ dramatic.” He scrubbed his hand down across his weathered face and wiry beard when you brought up needing to go and find some food. “Like I said, it's a few miles from here. Who said anythin’ about a we? There is no we. You’re gonna stay here while I make the run. I don’t want to hear any complainin’ about it either girlie.” 

“No cmon I can get ready so fast just give me ten minutes I really have to pee and change my clothes!” You were already halfway down the short hallway to your room as you were shouting at him to wait for you. It wasn’t the funnest thing you could think of tagging along for, but it was pretty outside and you were already awake, so why not tag along? Maybe you’ll find something useful besides fucking coffee.

Joel rolled his eyes when you yelled for him to wait for you. Well, he didn’t want to waste any daylight and he just had a feeling you were gonna end up slowing him down. He made a split second decision to grab his backpack and rifle from the hook along the wall before he slipped past the front door, and quietly padded down the stairs wordlessly. 

You were tugging on your pair of boots in the living room when you saw his body getting smaller and smaller the further he walked towards the brush. That mother fucker. You groaned and flung the door open to the front porch and stepped outside, “You fucking asswipe! Be careful at least!” You shouted and crossed your arms across your chest. 

Joel was already far enough away from the cabin that your shout was barely detectable, but he did catch onto you calling him an asswipe. His immediate response was to stick his middle finger high up in the air as  he adjusted the strap of his backpack along his shoulder. 

Of course he flipped you off, that’s exactly how you’d respond too, honestly. Since he left you all alone in his cabin this only meant one thing: snooping. The lightbulb went off in your head when the idea of going through his stuff came to you and a grin played on your lips before going inside making a direct line for his bedroom. You just wanted to know what his deal was, maybe learn some of his interests, some hobbies maybe. As the doorknob to his room twisted open, you found yourself looking around at everything. The photos, his clothes, his bed, his small book collection, everything. He had a story and you wanted to know what exactly it was but he still wasn’t warming up to the fact he had someone new living with him, whereas you were just fine and made yourself at home rather quickly. Your eyes fell on his bed and noticed your pink blanket you left for him right next to where it was evident he slept overnight. It was slightly balled up, like he held it to fall asleep or something. 

You took a seat right where he laid in his bed, your feet barely touching the floor. His sheets were soft in your hands as you gripped them, trying to take in everything about him. His pajama shirt under the pillow tucked away from everyone and everything. You grab it and take in every detail about it. The poor logo was so worn and faded off of it you could hardly make out that it was a band t-shirt, some band he probably listened to in high school or college. Something came over you and you pressed it against your face, breathing in deeply the scent on it. He smelled like pine and something else, something warm that smelled like you were home. God damn you needed a hug so bad, this is embarrassing. Sniffing a guys shirt because you feel alone wasn't something you were proud of, but Joel really has a way of making you feel alone when he’s angry. 

Folding the worn t-shirt and putting it back into place under his pillow, you decided to go through his bathroom. It was surprisingly clean when you popped your head in first, looking both ways before making your way inside fully. His shower was clean when you peaked behind the curtain, no hair left plastered to the walls. His cabinet drawers were tidy, nothing too out of the ordinary except for the last drawer. “Cmon you stupid bitch, open! I wanna know what you’re holdinggg” you begged and yanked at the drawer, finally getting it open. “Jackpot, motherfucker” you cheered and you were not prepared for what was inside. Playboy and Maxim magazines stacked top to bottom. You gasped as you grabbed one and looked inside, beautiful women draped over cars and beds, the ladies in sexy outfits or bare and in positions that you didn’t even think you could do. “Who the hell did he rob to get all of these? Barnes & Noble?” As you flipped the playboy magazine to the back you read Joel’s name on the address this was sent to years ago, with his house in Texas on the line to send it to. “You nasty old man, you.” You grinned and stifled a laugh as you put them away in the drawer and closed it. 

It had only been an hour since Joel left and who knew how long he’d be gone, so you took it upon yourself to start cleaning the cabin. You restocked the woodpile inside for the fireplace, made Joel’s bed and put the blanket back where you set it the previous night, made your bed and put your clothes away in the wardrobe he put in there for you. You found his stash of knives in the drawer of the hall tree that held your coats and guns and everything else you could think of. You pulled out this long machete and poofed your hair a bit to look sexy and you pointed the machete right at the mirror above the fireplace, “ready to die, clicker?” You whispered trying to be tough but it was disrupted by your laughter. “I’m too funny, too bad Joel wouldn’t think that was a good joke.” Shoving the weapon back where it belonged, you stood up straight and furrowed your brows, arms out a little bit to seem bigger. “That’s not fuckin funny, GIRLIE. Shouldn’t mess with shit like that. GIRLIE, blah blah blah. I’m Joel and I’m a crybaby over coffee and I like being mean to girls who are just trying to live. I don’t wanna admit she’s cute because then that means I have a heart, blah blah blah.” You mocked in a gruff tone, pacing back and forth with your back facing the front door. 

Joel had made it to the building just a few short miles from his cabin where he kept his emergency stack of supplies buried deep under the floorboards of the long abandoned gas station. He grabbed what was left of his stash of coffee, a few canned foods, a bag of rice, and a few casings of bullet cartridges. He was in a far better mood now that he was assured he wouldn’t run out of coffee for a while. The trek back to the cabin was a relatively quick one and he hoped to god that you hadn’t gotten yourself into any trouble while he was gone. The last thing he was expecting to find was you playing pretend in front of his fireplace. Were you..mocking him too? Joel was silent as he leaned against the open door jamb quietly. His arms were crossed over his chest and his jaw was clenched so tightly he could cut glass with it. 

“I do not fuckin’ sound like that, girlie.” His tone was gruff and he had a displeased expression on his face as his eyes narrowed in on you with a certain sharpened edge of malice swirling through his darkened pupils. He had every intention to make you jump out of your skin from his unannounced arrival. 

You yelped out of fear and turned to look at Joel who was clearly not with the amazing performance you just put on. “Oh lighten up, it was funny. You absolutely do sound like that by the way. It won’t kill you to laugh every now and then ya know.” You crossed your arms over your chest and stood exactly how he was to show how silly he looked. 

Joel dropped his backpack to the floor with a heavy thud. The look on his face alone was a dead giveaway that he was not impressed with your theatrics in the slightest. “Oh yeah? Please enlighten me on the parts I am supposed to find humorous.” His tone was low as he took one menacing step forward, his boots heavy along the floorboards. He took another, and another till he was close enough that you could feel his warm breath fanning your cheeks. “Let’s see here, the part where you called me a crybaby for gettin’ upset over not havin’ coffee? No? Oh! The part where I don’t wanna admit that you’re cute because then that means I have a heart? C’mon, girlie. Use your words. What part of all of that was I ‘supposed to find funny?” 

Your eyes met his and suddenly your mouth went dry, you forgot how to speak. It’s not that he intimidated you, he was just a gorgeous man even up close and personal. “You know you think I’m cute, just tell me. I nailed your voice though, you can’t deny that.” You pointed at him and cocked your head slightly, biting your bottom lip to hide a smile. This was all one big joke to you, especially the coffee tantrum but he wasn’t supposed to hear your impression of him, that was for entertainment later when you were fishing. How’s it your fault he came in when you didn’t rehearse much? “Can we just please get the ball rolling so we can go fishing? I'm excited to learn. Never been before and I have a goal of catching two.” You plopped down on the couch a few feet behind you and laid down, folding your ankles to rest on the armrest.

Joel was staring at you incredulously, as if you had suddenly grown five heads in the span of a few seconds. “Why in God’s green earth would ya think that to be true? You know what? Don’t tell me. I’d much rather not know.” He grumbled, shaking his head when you went ahead and made yourself at home on the couch. “Yeah I'm sure that eagerness will be long gone and dead when I tell ya that you’re gonna be the one putting the worm on the hook. You afraid to get a little down n’dirty along the river girlie?”  

“No, not at all, not the worst place I’ve gotten dirty.” You snickered quietly to yourself at how incredibly filthy his question sounded. It did however make you wonder about gettin’ down n’dirty with him, his dirty hands wrapped around your throat- but now wasn’t the time for that. Fishing. You’re going to prove him wrong that you in fact don’t mind getting covered in nasty river water and mud. “Can I have a cup of coffee to go please? I’ll share if it’ll keep the tantrums at bay.”

Joel was fighting hard to not roll his eyes at your remark. He was starting to question why he didn’t just leave you to be an appetizer for the clickers. What the hell was he getting himself into taking in someone like you. He was starting to wonder if there were even any benefits to keeping you around. “I ain’t sharing a cup with you. You can have your own.” He bent down and grabbed his backpack from the floor and stalked off into the kitchen. “If we actually catch somethin’ we’ll be having the closest thing to a real fuckin’ meal. I got some rice and canned beans. Can make a good stew out of it that will last us weeks.”

The urge to turn your nose up to the sound of stew for weeks was strong, but you stayed quiet. You walked closely behind him and offered to make his coffee to go for him whenever he’s done but the glare he gave you was telling you to stop while you’re ahead. “Do you maybe have a thermos for it or how should I bring it?” You had no clue where anything was in the kitchen so you started looking in cupboards and shelves, coffee cups clanking against one another. 

Joel scrubbed his hand across his face and wiry beard with a deep sigh as he set the sacks of coffee down on the counter. “Move. I’ll get it.” He grumbled as he came up close behind you, his hand subconsciously brushed across your side as he reached above you, grabbing two ceramic thermoses from the cupboard. You could feel his broad chest pressing against your back, and his warm breath fanning the tiny hairs along your neck causing goosebumps to rise along the skin. He got a whiff of your natural aroma..strawberries? Fucking strawberries? 

You stood frozen in place as you watched his arm reach up above you, the sunlight glowing against his skin. Joel made your heart skip beats whenever he was short lipped with you, it was mean but you liked it. You were afraid to move and ruin the intimate moment that was so rare for him to partake in, your breathing even slowed. His fingers wrapped around the lid of the thermos in the most innocent way but wow did it have your head spinning. Joel was something you wanted and he was so close but still felt a million miles away, like you could somehow get him if you really tried. 

Joel didn’t really appreciate the fact that the smell of strawberries was wafting through his nostrils, and clouding his senses for a brief moment. He cleared his throat as he set the thermos down and created a space between your bodies once more. He would not be indulging in any frivolous behavior. “Can you handle pourin’ this yourself?” He asked as he grabbed his own thermos and poured in the steaming pot of coffee that had been simmering on the stove. “It ain’t the best tastin’ coffee. Nothin’ like that sugary crap from Starbucks, but it gets the job done.” 

“Lucky for you I was a Dunkin’ Donuts girl in my previous life so I’m not surprised by coffee tasting shitty sometimes.” You filled your container and took a small sip to get your body awake before you tucked the thermos under your arm. Joel of course was already getting the fishing rod out of the closet, he can never just slow down and enjoy the moment he’s in; it’s always go go go. Why did he move away the way he did? Did you smell weird to him? Maybe he thinks you’re too much considering you still use strawberry lotion that you somehow have managed to save and ration all these years. 

Joel gave you a funny look when you said that you were more of a Dunkin’ Donuts girl. He made an obnoxiously loud slurping sound over the rim of his thermos as he took a sip. “So you’re tellin’ me you enjoyed the taste of sewage water? Cause that’s all I remember Dunkin’ ever tastin’ like. My dau—” He immediately paused. He could feel the color quickly draining from his face when he nearly uttered the word “daughter” to you. Stupid stupid stupid. He was angry at himself all over again as he yanked the fishing rod from the hook in the hall closet. He grabbed the tackle box with a huff. “C’mon. We’re wastin’ daylight.” 

You furrowed your brows at him and turned your mouth downward to attempt to mimic his face. “Okay, ol’ man.” You muttered in a gravelly voice. You were determined to get him to at least smile at your impression of him, bonus points to you if you made him laugh. God only knows the last time his body felt a good laugh. Just imagining how long it’s truly been since he experienced a belly laugh was choking you up, your eyes stinging with tears. No one deserves to be alone, not even grumpy ass old men who are trying their best. 

Joel was wordless as he started to head towards the front door. He was already feeling himself getting into his head again and it was a place that he didn’t like spending time in. Now with his dead daughter fresh on his mind.. “The river is just a short walk from the cabin. I use it as my main water source as well.” He didn’t glance in your direction as he swung the door open and headed down the steps, muttering under his breath. 

“That’s pretty cool, I guess I never put two and two together on how you always have water.” You said a little out of breath as you tried catching up to him to grab the tackle box to carry it for him. Joel didn’t wait for you as he was easily ten feet ahead already, not shocking. The trees danced in the wind as the sunlight slowly started to pour over them, turning them orange. “I can see why you live out here, it’s peaceful, no one bothers you, it’s perfect.” Your eyes dart towards him just to see his initial reaction to you saying no one bothers him, already having a few ideas in mind of how he can be a smart ass about that. 

“That’s one of the main reasons why I picked this exact spot to build a cabin. It’s got all the necessities for a loner like me to stay alive..” he trailed off as he sank down along the river's edge setting the fishing rod and tackle box alongside him. “Yeah well..I wouldn’t say it’s perfect. Perfect is like one of ‘em 5 star all inclusive resorts in the Bahamas or somethin.’ Where you can order all the the fuckin’ pina coladas that your heart desires. Although, I'm more of a Mai Tai man myself.” He wasn’t sure why he was telling you all of this. Perhaps it just felt a little nice to ramble on about pointless shit for a moment. “Alright, girlie. You said you wanted to’get down and dirty, yeah?” He was resting on one knee casually. “You know how to dig up worms? Or do ya need me to show ya?” 

“I feel like you have a better technique at finding them so what’s the best way?” you asked and clapped your hands together, interlocking your fingers as you watch Joel fidget with stuff in the tackle box. This was your chance to show him you can listen and take notes, be useful to him and that you aren’t just a pretty face. 

Joel was 100% hiding the fact that he already had a jar of worms in the tackle box on purpose. You humiliated him earlier with your theatrics so, it was only fair for him to get back at you for it. All's fair in love and war, right? “Well, you gotta get your face real close to the ground, and then to get the worms to come out of the dirt, you gotta chirp like a bird and then one by one, they’ll start poppin’ up out of the ground like damn groundhogs.” 

It sounded a little funny when he said it, but you also didn’t want to question him and possibly offend him which would only make him more annoyed with you than he usually is. “Uuhh..okay?” your answer sounded more like a question and you got down on your knees in the wet soil, your palms on the ground as you got your face inches away from the dirt. “S-so I just..chirp?” you looked in his direction just to double check you heard him correctly. 

Joel was not expecting you to be that gullible to just go and believe him that easily but damn, he was gonna continue to play along just to see if you would actually do it. “Yep. You just start chirpin’ like a bird and they start poppin’ up, you’ll see.” He had his arms crossed over his chest, his brow raised in your direction. “Well..go on. Get to chirpin’ girlie.” 

You hesitated for a second before your lips damn near touched the soil and started to chirp quietly. Not wanting to look like a pussy ass bitch to him, you cleared your throat and started to chirp louder. 

Joel did his best to keep a straight face the entire time but as soon as you started chirping louder and really getting into it, he stifled a chuckle. Quickly masking the sound by coughing into the sleeve of his jacket. “Oh my fuckin’ god. I didn’t actually think you were gonna do it!” He grasped your shoulder firmly in his warm calloused palm as he yanked you up from the ground. “Girlie, I didn’t think you were gonna be that gullible. Just wanted to play a little joke on ya. Actually, I already got worms in the tackle box right here.” He was doing his best to not deviously smirk, but he was doing a rotten job at hiding his amusement. “Oops?” 

You sucked your cheeks in and looked away silently, refusing to give him any satisfaction in seeing your embarrassment that was smeared across your face. “I knew that.” You quickly wiped the piece of wet dirt off your lip and turned back to Joel who was pissing you off the more you looked at his jackass face. 

Joel could tell that you were definitely pissed off with him now and okay, maybe he felt a little guilty for embarrassing you like that. “Hey, dontcha go and give me that look. It’s only fair that I got back at ya after you humiliated me earlier with your hilarious theatrics. Are ya really that upset with me now? C’mon. It ain’t that serious sweetheart.” 

Sweetheart. That made your fucking heart jump in your chest. He was right though, you can’t dish it out and not be able to take it. “Yeah whatever, it’s fine. Can I jus’ get the worms please so we can finish and go home, I’m starving.” You’ve been out here for just over an hour but that’s not your fault you’re hungry, he didn’t let you eat before he was out the door about to leave your ass behind. You sat on the bigger rocks facing the river and grabbed the pole off the patch of grass, running your fingers along the cold metal and the small parts scattered around it. 

“Well, don’t go gettin’ your hopes up on catchin’ somethin’ right away. It ain’t that easy.” He handed you the jar of worms. His fingers lightly brushed across the outside of your hand. “You ain’t gonna be squeamish about puttin’ a worm on the hook, are ya? They don’t have any pain receptors. At least..I don’t think they do.” 

“No, I’ll be alright, I won’t scream too loud.” you smirked and pinched the worm between your thumb and index finger, piercing it with the hook firmly before grinning from ear to ear, showing him you got it. “See! I got it! Now, how do I cast this baby and get some dinner?” Eagerness was dripping from your words and it felt good to learn new things after being alone for so long. Never did you think you’d be out here with a hunk who is also a grumpy old man, learning how to fish with him but here you were.

 “Wow, I was expectin’ you to be a tad squeamish. Maybe I underestimated you a little.” He still had his arms crossed over his chest as he looked at you. “So, you’re gonna wanna cast the line to the midpoint of the river. You don’t wanna cast it out too far, but you also wanna make sure it goes in deeper water. So bring the rod back behind your shoulder, and then you’re gonna bring it forward over your shoulder, with a bit of momentum to get it out there.” He was standing behind you now. His hands were at your waist, holding you steady. “Take it back nice and slow..” he whispered, lips nearly brushing against the shell of your ear. 

At this point he knew what he was doing, this was the second time today he put his hands on you in some form. You couldn’t get distracted though, you had to get this fish to prove his ass wrong. Just as you were going to swing the pole forward into the water, you noticed a frog jumping around and it landed right on your boot. Motherfucking frogs. Your enemy. A blood-curdling scream erupted from your throat and you swear you blacked out. Your body went in any direction you could go but you didn’t even think about the slippery rocks in front of you. Suddenly your bodies were submerged in the icy water, your lungs taking in everything but air. Rocks were cutting up your pants and hands as you crawled out of the water, Joel doing his typical old man groans behind you, only this time curse words were mixed in. 

Joel was not expecting you to let out a blood curdling scream that had his good, and bad ear ringing in his skull and when his body hit the shallow water, he immediately felt an intense pain shoot up his spine. His back was already bad enough as it is, but surely this would leave him bruised up. “WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT ALL ABOUT?!” He growled as he dragged himself out of the water. He was soaked from head to toe and his eyebrows were harshly furrowed in, deep lines etched into the weathered skin on his forehead. “YOU THAT FUCKIN’ SCARED OF FROGS OR SOMETHIN?!” He was fuming as he approached you along the river's edge. 

“JOEL STOP IT I'M SORRY I DIDN’T MEAN TO DO THAT!” you exclaimed and stood up taking in as many deep breaths as you could. Blood was trickling down your knees as you came to your senses and realized the sharp rocks must have done that. “I-I’m sorry Joel…I’m sorry I didn’t mea-n to do that.” Your voice trembled as the winds blew against your sopping wet clothes, making them stick to your shivering body. You stopped caring at this point if he saw you cry or not, the warm tears were streaming down your face. 

Joel was taking deep heavy breaths to calm his nerves. His hands were holding onto his knees as he hunched over and coughed up a bit of water. His back absolutely felt like it had been hit by a fuckin’ bus and he was shivering too. His features had hardened up until he saw the blood trickling down your knees through the gashes in your pants. Your free flowing tears caused his heart to clench in on itself. He didn’t want to be the cause for your tears. Not when you both could have been swept under the current moments ago. “Shit. Are you hurt?” He was already crouching down in front of you to assess how deep the cuts were. “I’m sorry for yellin’ at you like that. Didn’t know you were that scared of frogs, girlie.” His tone was much softer now. “C’mon. I’ve got a first aid kit back home. We gotta get out of these clothes. I’ll start us a fire so we can get warmed up.” 

You reached your hands out for him to help you up, your watery eyes looking at him. Who knew he’d have the heart to apologize. His hands grabbed yours and he tugged you to your feet. “Don’t apologize, it’s my fault we’re shivering our asses off.” you half joked and bent down to grab all the supplies he’d taken out earlier. Joel started heading back but this time he slowed up for you since the slice on your knee had you limping in pain. His hand was dripping little water droplets as you walked and it crossed your mind what he’d do if you just reached out to hold it. You could say it’s to help you walk but let’s be honest, you just wanted to hold his hand. 

“No it ain’t. We’re just lucky that the current didn’t sweep us under. We’d be fuckin’ toast then.” He glanced back at you momentarily. 

Once you and Joel arrived back at the cabin, he was quick to grab the first aid kit from the bathroom along with a few towels. He was still shivering through his sopping wet clothes, but his natural instincts to take care of you while you were injured was kicking into full gear. He felt pretty shitty inside for yelling at you like that. Sure, he thought it was stupid that a frog caused that whole disaster, but as soon as he saw your tears, he knew he had taken it too far. 

You peeled your clothes off your body and put them in a pile on the floor beside you until you were stripped to your bra and panties. The firewood you brought in earlier came in handy as you thanked yourself for being so smart to refill the pile inside. Tossing a few logs in at a time and striking a match before tossing it in, you stared at the flames licking the wood. It was warming your hands up rather quickly and everything seemed to be calming down. For now, anyway. 

Joel wasn’t completely paying attention as he walked into the living room. The first thing he noticed was that you had managed to get the fire going already and when his eyes finally zoned in on you, he nearly dropped the first aid kit to the floor. He had not been expecting you to strip out of your clothes as quickly as you had. He couldn’t help himself from looking. It had been a long fucking time since he had last seen this much skin, let alone someone who was quite frankly, stunning. Not to mention, your tits were pretty much staring him right in the face. Plush, round, glistening under the warmth of the fires glow. They were practically spilling out of the bra you were wearing. He cleared his throat, bringing his hand behind his neck, rubbing it nervously. “Uh..give a man some warnin’ next time..yeah?” 

Christ.

You giggled softly and crossed your arms in front of you for his sake. “Not really my style but I can do that if you want.” Should you have told him you were almost naked? Sure, 100%. Did you want to? Not at all. If Joel wasn’t going to start making moves and taking note of your flirtiness, you had to be the one to make the moves on him. “Just take your clothes off, I know you’re freezing in them. I’ll keep my hands to myself over here I swear.” You tossed your hands in the air where he could see them and patted the spot on the carpet next to you. 

Joel was visibly hesitant as he observed you. His throat was running dry, and his brain was going all fuzzy. “Uh..let me uh—get us some whiskey. That’ll warm us up quickly.” He turned on his heel, leaving wet footprints along the floorboards from his soaked boots. He disappeared into the kitchen, quickly grabbing the bottle of whiskey and took a large swig. Focus Joel. Snap out of it. After one more swig for good luck, he closed the bottle and returned to the family room. He wasn’t sure why he felt so nervous in the first place. He didn’t think he was unattractive, but he didn’t like how your gaze on him appeared to sear through his layers of soaked clothes. He did not like that. 

He started with his boots, unlacing them and kicked them off to the side. Before any layers of actual clothing would come off, he bent down over you, placing the bottle of whiskey into your palms. His biggest concern in his mind was how you would react to all the scars along his body. That was truly what he was most self conscious about. His coat dropped to the floor with a heavy thud. You could see that he was visibly shivering as he peeled his long sleeve shirt that was stuck to his body from the moisture. Inch by inch more of his tanned, scar ridden skin was revealed to you. 

He struggled to make eye contact with you and instead looked off towards the fireplace, watching the way the flames licked up against the dry wood. He cleared his throat once more as he undid his belt and dropped it to the floor along with his soaked jeans. He wished now that he had taken one more swig from the bottle before doing all of this, but it was far too late to turn back now. 

He finally eased himself to sit down alongside you, in nothing but his boxers. 

You couldn’t help but watch as he undressed himself, finally showing off his beautiful body. The scars and the uneven tan on his arms didn’t mean one thing to you, he was fucking beautiful.

A puff of air escaped your mouth and your hand covered your face, so enamored by him. “Sorry not sorry if I’m being too forward here Joel, but you’re beautiful…holy shit.”

 Joel was frozen where he sat alongside you. He could feel his cheeks, and the tips of his ears turning red by the second. No one had ever called him beautiful. Why would they? He thought himself to be a monster after all. If only you had known about the terrible things he had done, perhaps you wouldn’t think him to be beautiful. “You don’t mean that, girlie. I’m too old and rough to be beautiful.” His tone came out as a rough scoff as he was in disbelief.  Was he being serious right now? Was he really going to sit there and tell you that you didn’t mean something you said? You scoffed as your mouth dropped a bit, “I always mean what I say, Joel. You are beautiful and nothing is too rough to me, big boy.” Let’s see how he likes those apples.

[ecto-stone]

Silly random pointless nonsense

or Vlad already displaying advance technique that Danny later learn.

Like Danny Never do the ghost sense thing near Human Vlad but do around Ghost Vlad. And when it reveal that The Cool friend of His parent is also a Halfa. Everyone take it as some sort of over seeing error.

And then When Vlad had to quick teach Danny something caused Freaking goth Clown is taking over the world. Vlad teach Him how to lowered his ectoplasm lv in his human form to the point of being so low he appeared normal on detector and can't be sense by ghost.

Or how Vlad Clone act completely diffrence from Danny Cloning skill.

Turn out since Danny only learn from observing and not really understand it, His clone is more like a Puppeted mutated extra body

Danny can see out of his own clone vision like a 360 if they form a circle. Con. They all do the same action as main clone

Whiles Vlad is completely seperated a part of his own making to make a perfect clone that can act independantly from him.

Con: Vlad can't know what his clone is doing

Pro: He get Back the unique memories and experience from the clone own Pov when it dupicated core return to him.

Vlad don't really teach Danny any new ability at all he forced Danny to horn his basic skill set.

When ask Why Vlad explain that You ever notice how your power keep changing and losing like one day you have electrickenetic the other you get pyrokenetic but suddenly lose electrokenetic. ect ect.

That caused We gain power depend on what the strongest desired we have when going ghost. Same like death born ghost with their last strongest regret or desired.

But unlike them, since we can comeback to life, we essentially can reset the skill we have instead of being hard lock into one.

Practicing useful skill that us often use is a way to ensure the certainty of the skill you will alway have instead of having to rely on the dice roll when go ghost.

It like DnD.

You right now are rerolling your charater sheet every encounter and have your charater alway at lv zero in all skill

whiles i chose a good sheet from all that reroll to keep developing. whiles also picking up protentially more useful skill along the way.

-> Danny don't have an ice core. it due to the trainning with frost bite that it is locked in to be a permanent power. But Vlad have mutiple core element like Earth-Fire-Metal-Electric so protentially Danny can still added up more elemental power on top of the fixed Ice core like Vlad

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

*bursts door open* Mousyyyyyy- I got the Farmer Thoughts™ again. So you know how the Farmer can do magic in the vanilla game, and SVE expands on this concept even further. They can see Junimos, they can transmute metals, they can teleport to another continent. And with the Magic mod, they can blast their enemies with a meteorite or standard Fireballs.

But unlike Morgan, the Farmer was never taken away from their family to train under a more experienced wizard or witch. They lead a regular life prior to Stardew Valley, minus the skeleton in the neighboring cubicle at their job.

I got an idea as to why they could lead a normal life, and I'm sure as hell incorporating that into my Farmer's bio. The Farmer's a late bloomer in terms of magic. They did not show signs of magical talent when they were Morgan's age, which came with a sigh of relief from their Parent. The Parent, after witnessing the tragic death of their mother (RSV Granny) due to a magical curse, wanted their kid safe AT. ALL. COST. and away from anything magic. They most likely never developed any magical skills themselves, or they too are a late bloomer (I like the second option). And they were thinking they were in the clear, finally. ...Until their kid, the Farmer, came to Pelican Town and got involved with Magnus and the Junimos within the first week of them living there. Shit. Bonus:

The Parent got a major grudge against the Cult of the Lady with the Red Tail and said Lady with the Red Tail for being the cause of their mother's untimely death.

While they don't necessarily feel any hatred towards the Wizards of Stardew Valley, Magnus and Mr. Aguar, they still don't trust them fully because of magic. Definitely not a huge fan of Magnus after the Parent learns of the forest magic potion the Farmer drinks.

*Yawn* ♪Ah♪, time to go to sleep in a cosy bed, get ready for tomorrow's work day and- *saw a notification on Tumblr*

Oh! *kicking the blanket away* Fuck sleep - time for thoughts and theories! :D

_________________________________________

I have to say, your thoughts on headcanon almost perfectly describes my Farmer Julian's lore.

As you said earlier, in theory, everyone can manifest magic at different ages: some from early childhood (like Morgan), some a little later or after forty etc. (Julian and the other Farmers), and some will have magic "no awaked" (Julian's father, Abraham, who inherited magic from his father, the Farmer's Grandpa). Given that Julian's parents are aware of the existence of magic, but not in detail, it raises a lot of questions. And Granny's death, according to the RSV lore, could put an end to trust in all things magical, you're right.

Also thoughts about Magnus and Mr. Aguar is so funny 🤣

Farmer's Parent to Magnus: What do you mean my kid drank "tea" made of fly agaric?!

Farmer: Mum/Dad, don't kill Magnus...

Magnus: *praying for his life*

There is also speculation that it was after they moved away that the magic manifested in Farmer because of the Stardew Valley itself. This place full of forest spirits, magic, and monsters can't help but affect residents and visitors alike. Especially those with an innate magical gift, or those who haven't yet developed one.

I still don't quite understand, however - how exactly Morgan was taken from their family and given to Magnus for training. Does the Ministry discuss it with the parents of the gifted child, is the child "persuaded" by promises of teaching interesting magic and tricks, or is the child taken away almost by force and without any compromise? If by force, I can see why Farmer wasn't taken away for training - after all, a child can be persuaded or intimidated, but try to pull that off with a young adult who can still kick your ass. But that's just a theory, I wanted to provide the Ministry not as a completely evil and corrupt society of mages and witches.

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Heya, last extract for today, a little piece of my latest fanfiction, A heart in a cage. It's a Papyrus x Reader story, and also the depiction of a not-so-peaceful post-pacifist universe where monsters had been enslaved. Chapter 2 is coming soon by the way!

Three years ago approximately, the world discovered a non-human people, the Monsters, lived under Mount Ebott, a local enigmatic mountain, reputed for its ghost stories and tales of missing children. First curious, the government lured them with the promise to live normally among humanity, as citizens. Only for a year though. After that, King Asgore recognized he had murdered six children in the hope of leaving their rock prison. The announcement of that genocide caused an outcry in public opinion, and in only weeks, all monsters were declared international threats.

The situation got only worse and worse from there. The monsters had to register themselves and then be forced to report to a police station once a week to make sure they were not causing problems. Their magic soon got controlled and restrained with a metal bracelet that every monster had to wear, which was supposed to assure people monsters were not a danger to society.

It took only a few months to restrain their actions and their words as well, forbidding them from going to certain places or to talk to certain people. Soon, their citizenship got revoked and all Monsters downgraded to slaves, first poached illegally, then parked in huge hangars to be sold officially.

For a few thousand dollars, humans could now acquire a monster and subject it to the worst torments as they were now unable to defend themselves. Conscious they could rebel, the government included a torture device in their bracelets to keep them under control. At any contrariety, their owner could give them an electric choc, going from a simple recall to a death sentence.

Until a few weeks ago, only the very rich elite could offer themselves a monster. Unfortunately, horror had no limits anymore and breeding factories opened to produce monsters en masse, lowering their cost by half their price. Most institutions fought to buy some to take care of paperwork, cleaning, all the thankless jobs they didn't want to do.

Your school included.

Last week, a vote took place between the school personnel to buy one of these monsters to take care of the maintenance of the school and watch the children during break times. You epically protested, screaming that school existed to teach children skills like tolerance, and that showing them that with money you can submit anything to your will is not exactly the image you want to give to young easily influenced minds. You only received back rolling eyes and loud sighs. Except for Yzaline, the cafeteria main cook and your best friend, and you, everyone voted in favor of buying a monster for the school.

Papyrus arrived three days sooner, just before the week-end, in a wood box without ventilation and under the applause of the municipal council, happy about this new acquisition they didn't have to pay for and that would make the school's daily life better.

You wanted to throw up.

When they opened the box, the skeleton had fainted, out of breath, curled up on the floor in visible distress, and not even able to stretch his legs to feel a little better. Did they help him? Of course not. They gave him electric chocs until he stood up and was forced to salute the crowd. The headmaster then poured a bucket and a broom into his hands and ordered him to work.

Considering your book den was not that important of a place to start with, he installed a cage in your storehouse, where Papyrus was supposed to stay the night and the week-end. And of course, it was now your role to open his cage and give him his tasks for the day because "Understand us, Mx Hickmore, most of us are working through the day, but you, except for the break times and the few hours of teaching you have, you're a bit like a foliage plant." They didn't say it exactly like that, but it was mostly the same.

As a thank-you, Mr. Langley authorized you to use Papyrus as your assistant in the library. Well, it must be said that the skeleton was quite efficient with his tasks on the first day and had nothing to do after only two or three hours, so the headmaster decided to add more tasks for him, to make a profit from this expensive purchase.

To show you were really not happy with the decision, you didn't lock Papyrus in the cage this week-end and authorized him access to the library. You felt bad to just put him in that prison that was way too small for him. He couldn't even stand up completely in it!

And you don't plan to stop there.

A heart in a cage, chapter 1.

[ejzah]

A/N: Another version of how Deeks might have shared his background. Set sometimes in season 3.

***

A Turning Point

“This was a terrible idea,” Deeks groaned, whipping his head to the side to shake off the excess water dripping off the bill of his hat.

For the last day and a half, they’d been chasing two escaped convicts through the woods. They’d worked straight through the first night, but given that they were all exhausted, hungry, and now pretty thoroughly soaked thanks to a downpour in the last hour, they made the unanimous decision to set up camp

While Kensi and Callen gathered some wood for a fire, Sam and Deeks had agreed to set up the tent. What should have taken no more 30 minutes tops in Deeks’ opinion, was taking significantly longer since Sam kept stopping him to make critiques.

“I’m pretty sure I can manage to pound a stake into the mud without your help.” He paused as Sam came over to examine his work again.

“It’s at too much of an angle. C’mon Deeks, didn’t your dad teach you this stuff?” Sam spit out in frustration. Deeks stopped working at the stake altogether for a moment, letting the question settle over him before he started whacking at the piece of metal again.

He knew it was an off-hand remark—unless one of the three people on the team who knew about his dad had let the secret out. At any other time, he would have let it slide, but tonight he didn’t have the mental capacity to overlook the random slights.

“Actually, no he didn’t. Because my dad spent a good part of the first eleven years of my life drinking whatever he could get his hands on and beating on me and my mom. Then he went to prison. Now he’s dead,” Deeks said, surprising himself by how steady his voice remained.

He could feel Sam’s large presence behind him, but he didn’t say anything, so Deeks picked up another stake, hooking it into a loop a half foot away. There was only the sound of the rain and hammer on stake for a couple minutes.

“Is that true?”

“That my dad is dead? Yeah. Don’t know why I’d lie about it,” Deeks answered. He was probably being a little too sarcastic and honest, but he was tired, cold, and done with Sam’s perfectionist attitude.

“No, the other parts,” Sam clarified. “Was your dad…abusive?” There was a strange halting quality to the words, and after a moment, Deeks realized it was uncertain. Sam Hanna felt uncomfortable.

He tipped his head back, far enough to see Sam from where he stood over him. The rain immediately splattered his face, but he didn’t look away.

“The man hated me more that you do,” Deeks said lightly.

“I don’t hate you,” Sam retorted immediately. Deeks didn’t argue the point.

“As long as I remember, my dad was an angry guy. He was angry when he got drunk, when work didn’t go well, when mom just happened to be too close, when my hair was too long—yeah, he wasn’t a fan either.” Deeks chuckled bitterly. “Didn’t take a lot to make him angry. Pretty he preferred punching to camping and teaching me survival skills.”

“I’m sorry. Did you see him before he died?”

“Nope,” Deeks said easily. “You might say we didn’t end on very good terms. “He was pretty sure that Sam Hanna’s momentary benevolence wouldn’t extend to finding out he shot good old Gordon. “I only found out he died recently, so never had the opportunity to find out if prison made him see the light.”

“Damn shame,” Sam muttered. Deeks didn’t know if he was referring to Gordon’s untimely death or the entire situation. It was probably best not to ask.

Crouching next to him, Sam examined the stakes again and nodded. “That’s good enough.”

Deeks almost laughed. He guessed that was the best he’d be getting tonight.

They finished the rest of their work in silence. He wondered if they’d reached a turning point, or if his personal sob story had just earned him a brief reprieve.

[arielhopepeace]

Part Four

18+ only

Tw: mention of cancer, mention of death, anxiety, panic attacks, insecurity, emotional abuse, gun use, slight exhibitionism, edging, teasing, dirty talk, phone sex, age gap, praising

9,200 words (holy hell I’m so sorry lol)

Y/n

You find yourself zoning out at the back of the classroom as your students gather their things together in preparation for dismissal. You've barely managed to teach today due to the memory of Joel's sultry voice in your ear, and his lips all over your wet skin. Last night was a fantasy come to life, and you've been craving his touch ever since.

How soon is too soon to see him again? Will you really let him know how desperate you are after already pleading for him last night? You feel embarrassed at the memory, your mind avoiding that to recall his hot breath against your neck as he swirled your button full of nerves with his skilled fingers.

"Ms. Y/l/n?" a small voice snaps you back to reality. "I found my essay."

You smile, shaking your head slightly as you grab the paper from the little girl in front of your desk. "Thank you," you beam at her. "If you haven't turned in your essay, please make sure to hand it in before you leave!" you announce to the rest of the class.

A few of the students drop off papers, your classroom clearing out as your mind begins to wander again. You pull your phone out from your desk, seeing that you have a message from Joel.

Joel

11:30am

I haven't stopped thinking about you today. Is that bad?

2:00pm

No, and it's been just as bad for me. It was difficult to teach.

You ready your things, collecting the essays and putting them into a folder for you to take home and read through tonight. Your appointment with the gynecologist is at 2:30, so you're feeling incredibly eager to leave.

As you lay on the table with your heels in the stirrups and a paper sheet over your lap, you stare at the white ceiling above you. You wonder what the woman who slept with Sam looked like, and you're curious if he's still seeing her. Of course it doesn't matter, but you can't help the slight insecurity you feel from being cheated on.

You never claimed to be perfect in your relationship, but Sam's lack of compassion towards your career was the biggest competitor in tearing you two apart. You're honestly grateful that he showed his true colors before you were married. And now you have your mind set on a man much gentler—a man that you feel is perfect for you.

There's a knock on the door and a woman in a white smock steps in, introducing herself and asking what the means for your visit are today.

"Well, my ex-fiancé cheated on me and then had unprotected sex with me. So, I'm just checking to be safe."

"Ugh," she scoffs, "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. I'll be better without him."

The doctor chuckles, slowly easing the cold, lubed metal into you. "Exactly. At least you know." She swabs your cervix, making you wince slightly before she withdraws the device. "Okay, everything looks perfectly normal. Have you had any oddly colored discharge?"

"No," you shake your head. "Nothing out of the ordinary."

"Okay, good. Well, from just a physical examination, I'd try to relax and not worry, but I will send this sample off to the lab."

You sit up, allowing your feet to hang off the raised bed. "And when will those results come back?"

"About a week," she smiles. "Could be less. I know you're probably eager to find out."

"Yes," you sigh, not knowing if you can wait another week to ravage Joel. "Thank you, Doctor."

"You're welcome. Our office will send you an email with your results, so be on the lookout for that."

"Thank you, I will."

You leave the office, feeling relieved that there's nothing seriously wrong, but yet disappointed that the results are going to take a while to get back. Will Joel still want to spend time with you even if you can't have sex? Of course he will, right? Why do you feel so worried that he won't?

At home, you sigh as you slip off your shoes, flopping down onto the couch with your head leaning against the back of it. All you really want to do is take a nice, long bath and maybe have a small nap while you're at it. But you can't right now. You have to read through all of the essays.

You grab your manilla folder and start at the top of the papers, smiling fondly at every single one individually. Some of the kids write about their family pet, their own lives, or their parents. One of them wrote about how they want to go to space one day and land on the moon.

When you come across Sarah's, you read the entire thing with a vast grin, enjoying how much she adores her dad. She talks about how he takes care of her, and how she wishes she had a mom, but she thinks her dad is enough to be two parents. The kind words of affection bring tears to your eyes, correcting a few of her mistakes and settling on a final grade for the paper.

Joel is the perfect man, and you're going crazy at the thought of him. Maybe it's because he met you at such a vulnerable point in your life, but you want to be with him. You're just hoping he wants the same thing. Would he really want to date you? He's already been married and had a daughter that he adores, not to mention the sixteen year age gap between the two of you. Obviously it doesn't bother him to some extent, but would he ever want to settle down again? And especially with someone as young as you?

Your doubts unleash a tsunami over your mind, finishing up the final essay before heading to your bedroom to change into your bathing suit. You'd prefer a casual float in the vast pool over a restricted bath right now. You want the freedom and space, also the exercise that comes with swimming.

Before you leave to go outside, you send Joel a picture of you in your bikini, biting your lip as you lock your phone. You're reminded of how hard he was in your palm, and how thick and long his length felt. Your eyes flutter closed as you imagine taking all of him inside you, that same sudden fear that you won't be good enough creeping into your mind.

Sam has made you more insecure than you've ever been in your life. Never have you questioned your ability to please a man, but now it's all you can think about. Will Joel enjoy the way you feel or the manner in which you grind your hips? You don't know. And it makes your chest feel heavy with apprehension.

When you step out of the pool, it's nearly six o'clock, and you see that you have an unread message notification from Joel on your phone screen.

Joel

4:45pm

You are one hell of a woman, y/n. Thank you for being the best distraction from work.

5:55pm

Oh, you're very welcome. Are you off now?

Your phone buzzes in your hand, seeing Joel's contact name popping up at the top as you press your thumb against the green 'answer' button.

"Hi," you say happily. "I take it you're home?"

Joel chuckles into your ear, making your thighs squeeze together. "Yes, I am. I just called to ask you how your day was. Figured it would be faster than texting."

You beam at the ground as you reply, "It was good. I went to my appointment and she said everything looks fine, but I won't get the official results for a week."

"Good, I'm glad everything is okay on the surface. At least that'll ease your mind a little."

"It did," you sigh. "Can't say I'm not disappointed about having to wait a week, though."

"Aw," Joel coos before lowering his voice, "I promise that I'm just as desperate, y/n. It took everything in me to not fuck you in the pool."

Your brows furrow together as an intense flush of arousal shoots to your groin. "Joel, please don't talk to me like that when there's nothing I can do about it."

"There's definitely something we can do, but only if you want to."

You giggle, stripping off your bathing suit as you walk to your bedroom. "What, phone sex?"

"More like I'll talk you through it. I can't really participate since I'm not alone."

"I want you to cum, too," you whine, hearing Joel chuckle lowly in your ear.

"I will, angel. Let's just focus on you right now." The line is silent for a moment. “I want you to lay on your bed for me,” he says gently, his voice still low.

“You sure you don’t want to just FaceTime me?” you giggle as you climb onto your mattress, not caring if you’re wetting it with your pool-soaked hair and skin.

“If I watch you cum, I don’t think there’d be anything stopping me from driving over there. Also, I don’t have the headphones right now, so this is better,” he laughs lightly. “You in your bed?”

“Yes,” you answer. “Naked, too.”

“Ooo,” he chuckles, “ahead of the game, I like it.”

You can’t help but giggle, letting out a slow, steady breath as you close your eyes, resting the phone against your ear.

“I want you to run your fingertip around your nipples. Don’t do anything to them, just graze them. Make them hard for me.”

You’re already a weeping mess between your legs, wanting to relieve the growing pressure, but you decide to listen to Joel instead. All you want is for him to have control over you, and you desperately want to please him.

You trace your already hardened nipples, feeling goosebumps raise against your skin as the tip of your nail gently scratches you. A small sigh leaves your throat, your finger moving to your other pearled center.

“Feel how nice your skin is, y/n? So fucking soft, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” you breathe, “wish you were here touching it.”

“Soon, pretty girl. I promise.” His voice is light and soothing. “Spread your legs open, baby. Let that finger go down your stomach, but don’t touch that sweet little slit of yours.”

As your hand moves down your abdomen, your senses are heightened, the feeling of your warm palm against your stomach making your walls clench around nothing.

“God, Joel,” you sigh with pleasure, “how are you doing this? I feel like I could cum just from touching my skin.”

He laughs gently, the sound exhilarating you. “I know how to please a woman, y/n.” You can’t help but bite your lip at his confidence. “Keep caressing your body. I want you to feel how beautiful it is.”

Your palm moves up your side, cupping your right breast as you gently pinch the center that is standing to attention.

“God,” you groan slightly, your head digging into the pillow.

“You’re doing so good, y/n. You listen so well. Now, do you own any toys?”

“Yes,” your bottom lip tucks between your teeth. “Do you want me to get one?”

“No,” he replies. “Now I know if you ever wanted me to use one on you.”

“Joel, I’d let you do anything to me.”

He hums with contentment. “You’re so goddamn hot. I want you to feel how wet you are.”

Your fingers slowly ease down to where you’re spread, instantly feeling the silky arousal coating your skin, making your mouth hang open in shock.

“I’m—” your voice drifts off as you swirl around your swollen clit, letting out a small moan.

“You’re what, y/n? Tell me.”

“I’ve never been this wet in my life,” you whisper, your eyes squeezing together as you continue to rub yourself. “Fuck.”

“Good,” he groans quietly. “Want you to keep circling your clit just the way you are. Doesn’t it feel so good, sweet girl?”

“Yes!”

“Mmm, are you already close?”

“Fuck, yes. I’m so close.”

Joel sighs heavily into the phone. “I wanna hear how pretty you sound when you cum, angel.”

Your entrance flexes as your fingers pick up their pace, rubbing yourself so quickly that your wrist begins to cramp. That euphoric feeling begins to wash over you, your back arching off of your bed as you orgasm intensely, crying Joel’s name out into the phone.

“Such a good girl,” he praises. “Fuck, y/n.”

Thighs shaking and chest heaving, you pull your hand up from between your legs, only now being able to open your eyes.

“If you made me feel that good without even being here, I can’t imagine what being with you will be like.”

Joel chuckles. “I’ll take good care of you, y/n.”

You can’t help but to groan lowly. “I know you will.”

He lets out a large sigh, making you laugh slightly. “I’m so painfully hard that I can’t think straight.”

You giggle again. “You could always come over and I could alleviate your pain.”

“No,” he laughs. “I can’t. I feel bad leaving Sarah with the neighbor all the time.”

“Aw, I understand.” A smile splits your face.

“This weekend she’s sleeping at a friend’s house. We could have our own sleepover, if you’d like.”

“I’d love that.” Your cheeks ache from your incessant grinning.

“I was thinking maybe a date on Friday night?”

“A date?” you ask, trying to hide your excitement.

“Yeah, is that okay?”

“More than okay. I wasn’t sure if you were even interested in dating me.”

Joel guffaws. “Are you crazy? Of course I am. You’re incredible, y/n. Even before you lured me in with steak and cupcakes, I liked you.”

You chuckle, feeling your face burning. “Yeah, I liked you too.”

“So you really did like me when you first met me, and that wasn’t just your horny talk?”

“Yes!” you cackle. “I was engaged to Sam, but I liked you more than him at the time. Now it’s like I hate him, and I’m crazy about you.”

“Crazy about me, huh?” he teases. “I can handle crazy.”

“Well, good. My life is very crazy right now.”

“Ex-fiancés and broken air conditioners aren’t going to push me away,” Joel chuckles. “Maybe only blood-sacrifice-crazy would. But even then, I don’t know. I like you too much already to be bothered by that.”

You clutch your stomach as both of you break out into a fit of laughter. “I’ll try to keep those to a minimum.”

He sniffles, his laughter fading a bit. “I unfortunately have to go. I have to make dinner, but this was—fun.”

“Mmm, I agree; very, very fun.”

“Have a good rest of your night, y/n.”

“You too, Joel.”

The call ends and you still have an idiotic smile plastered onto your flushed scarlet face. Your senses are still heightened, the swollen clit between your legs throbbing and begging for more relief. Everything in you wants to run to Joel’s house and ride him like a mad woman, but you can’t for many, many reasons.

You feel guilty that he’s been seeing you so often and leaving Sarah with the neighbor. And you feel even worse knowing that he feels bad about it. He doesn’t realize what a good fucking dad he is, and that is just another trait of his that drives you crazy. A sweet, thoughtful, loving father who would die for his daughter is a dream, and you know Sarah is aware of how lucky she is.

***

The rest of the week drags by, every day seeming longer and more tedious than the last as you wait for it to finally be Friday. Class seems to run longer than usual, your lunch break feels like hours, and the walk to your car from the school seems like it’s taking centuries.

You pull your vibrating phone from your skirt pocket as you tread against the hot asphalt that is baking you from beneath, while the sun works to cook you from above. Joel’s name makes you smile and cock your head a bit in surprise. Why is he calling you as you’re leaving school? He never has before.

“Hello?” you answer, an obvious grin in your voice.

“Hey, you. I’m still working, but I snuck away to see how your day went. I was figuring you were probably leaving right about now.”

Your heart soars, letting out a timid giggle. “Yes, actually. I’m getting into my car right now.”

“Ooo, giving me a play-by-play. Kinda reminds me of our phone call the other night,” Joel teases, humor twisted into the husky rasp.

“Joel,” you scold with a laugh as your thighs squeeze together, “I’m not even home and you’re already starting.”

He chuckles. “Okay, I’m sorry. I’ll behave. Also, is it okay if I pick you up at seven for our date?”

“I completely forgot about that!” you say sarcastically. “Sorry, can’t make it.”

Joel laughs loudly into the phone, your cheeks burning. “Ah, man. That really sucks. I had this big thing all planned out,” he jests as he keeps up the joke. “Should I call and cancel the jet ride to Paris?” he asks facetiously.

You cackle. “God, can you imagine taking a jet to Paris?”

“Sorry, I don’t have that kind of money.”

“Aw, Joel, I don’t care about money. I just want to spend time with you,” you grin like an idiot as you sit in your car. “Seven is perfect for walking, talking, or Paris.”

He laughs lightly. “You’re amazing, y/n, you know that?”

“I think you’re gonna have to show me how amazing you think I am.”

“I will, I promise,” Joel audibly smiles as he speaks. “Thank you for being so understanding about me not wanting to keep leaving Sarah. It really means a lot to me.”

“Not only do I work with kids for a living, but I’m not going to come between what you two have. It’s so special and unfortunately, kinda rare. Sarah is such a sweet girl and she loves you to death. I don’t want to take you away from her. I’m good with seeing you whenever you want.”

“Perfect words from an even more perfect mouth. Thank you, y/n.” Joel lets out a small, content sigh. “I’ll see you later, petal.”

Petal? You could melt into the leather seat beneath you from the new pet name that Joel has slipped into your ear.

“Bye,” you giggle, hanging up the phone.

The entire drive home, your mind is reeling over the fact that you’re going on a date with a hot dad who calls you the sweetest of names. You miss his soft, skilled lips and the feel of his firm, lightly haired chest against yours. You haven’t seen him since you made him dinner, and that’s genuinely okay with you.

Of course you’d like to see him more often, but this is ridiculously new, and he has a daughter that he’s raising by himself. He’s a wonderful man, and the fact that he actually wants to raise his daughter is another rarity, and nothing but a bright neon green flag to you.

You get home and immediately jump into the shower, shaving your legs and underarms just to feel more comfortable. You don’t bother shaving anywhere else, knowing that nothing penetrative can happen between the two of you yet.

You’ve been obsessively checking your email, always coming up with nothing from the gynecologist. The beat of your heart quickens every time you open the app, refreshing the page several times to make sure you haven’t just missed it.

It’s ludicrous how much you crave this man. Even with your first time with Sam you weren’t as desperate for his body as you are for Joel’s. You know that they’re two vastly different men, but Joel just ignites this fire within you that nobody has ever struck a match to. He’s able to break you down with just his words, making you orgasm quicker than you ever have with anybody, or even alone.

As you step out of the steamy shower, you toss your hair up into a towel, wringing it slightly before wrapping it up into the cotton fabric. You prep your skin for makeup, wanting to go all-out for Joel, but also being worried about going overboard.

Sam would always comment when you’d wear “a lot” of makeup, and you never realized that your want to wear it majorly dwindled. The more you sit and ponder the memories that swirl around in your mind, it dawns on you that Sam has negatively affected you more than you originally thought.

You had already reached your limit with him by the time he broke the news that he cheated on you, but there was more that he did or said during your one year engagement when he changed that you unknowingly brushed off. Your already minuscule self-confidence has been thrown, leaving you a weakened, dehydrated corpse in the land of self-hate.

The thoughts begin to affect your body, a physical reaction blossoming within you that makes your heart begin to race. All you want to do is call Joel for help, but what if you get this feeling once he leaves you, too? What then?

Ways to calm yourself down displays itself in your mind as a short, yet still overwhelming list. You go through the deep breathing, focusing on anything other than your reflection as you attempt to calm the sudden, intense panic.

Your feet carry you as calmly as they can muster to the fridge, grabbing out the remains of your nearly emptied wine bottle. The cork lets out a low pop when you pull it, pressing the cold emerald-tinted glass to your lips, downing the remains of what lies within.

A satisfied sigh leaves your throat, your eyes closing as your pulse begins to dwindle. You’re not an alcoholic by any means, but it has almost always helped you relax when you become panicky. When you figured that out (illegally) at 18, you used it as your own personal therapy session, since actual therapy is way more expensive.

Even just the feeling of the crisp, icy alcohol sliding down your throat is enough to alleviate the anxiety, only because you know that the relief will come soon enough.

There’s a knock on your door after you’ve finished getting ready, fastening the right buckle on your heel before standing off from your bed. The heels clunk quietly on the carpet, suddenly sounding like a freshly shoed horse once you reach the wooden floor of the living room.

You straighten out your silky dress, letting out a steady breath before pulling the door open. The excited, giddy expression on your face falls when you see Sam standing in your doorway.

“Wha—” you hesitate, perplexed, “what are you doing here?”

There’s a solemn sulkiness in his blue eyes, and his eyes are bloodshot to hell.

“Y/n,” he begins, “you look amazing.” His eyes scoop up your body before settling onto your breasts. “Can we talk?”

Your arms cross over your chest, shaking your head at him. “No, Sam. I don’t have anything to say to you. Please leave.”

“Just hear me out!” he yells. “I want you back. I’m so sorry for what I did. I fucked up.”

“No,” you continue shaking your head, reaching for your phone in your purse. “Leave.”

Sam steps inside, his stature looming over you; the tall physique you once loved now terrifying you to your core. “Talk to me.”

“No!” you shout. “You reek of scotch,” you nearly retch. “Get out of my house!”

“It’s my house too, you bitch!”

A numb fear makes its way around your entire body, the flight response in you kicking in, forcing you to turn and run away, locking yourself in your bedroom. Sam bangs on the door, yanking on the knob with such force, you’re terrified he’ll pull it off in one go.

Your trembling fingers press on Joel’s contact, unsure of what a drunk Sam is going to do. You’ve never seen him this plastered, and you’re absolutely petrified.

“Hello?” Joel answers happily.

“Joel,” you say quickly, “Sam is here and really drunk. Please come help me. I’m trapped in my room and he’s banging on the door. I-I’ve never seen him like this, please.”

The line is quiet, hearing some fumbling coming from the phone before the distinct sound of a car door closing. “Are you safe?” he asks flatly.

“Yes, for now. I don’t think he’d hurt me, he’s just acting really erratic.”

“The way he’s acting is uncalled for. I’ll be there in a few minutes. I’m not stopping for any fucking lights or signs.”

The door behind your back shakes as Sam continues knocking against it aggressively, yelling profanities and slurs that you can’t quite make out through the thick wood.

“God, Joel, please be careful,” you say as calmly as you can manage. “You’ll be a lot more help if you get here alive.”

“I’ll be fine,” Joel responds without emotion again.

Your brows furrow, worry swallowing you whole. “Are you mad?”

“Not with you, sweet girl. Be there in one minute. Stay on the phone with me.”

Even though he can’t see you, you nod your head anyway, practicing your calming breaths as you hear tires screeching onto pavement outside. There’s no way that’s Joel, right?

“I’m here. Stay in the room.”

“Okay,” you whisper.

Sam’s violent screaming suddenly stops, everything going completely silent out in the living room. Your apprehension and curiosity get the better of you, your hand gently turning the knob to peak out of your bedroom.

Your eyes blow wide as you see Joel holding a long, black shotgun, pointing it directly at Sam.

“You have about ten seconds to get out of here before I blow a hole in your goddamn chest,” Joel says firmly as he stares Sam down.

He wobbles slightly from the alcohol, his hands up as he keeps his torso faced towards Joel. “Oh, so this is who she’s all dressed up for, huh? How ya doin’, Joel? Enjoying fucking my fiancée?”

Joel cocks the shotgun, resting his finger on the trigger. “Another word, and you’re a dead man.”

You step out of the bedroom more, watching the scene unfold as Sam makes his way to the open front door. “Yeah, yeah. I’m going, tough guy.”

Your eyes follow him, leaving your room as you watch him completely step out of the house past the stoop. He backs all the way up to his car, seeing Joel’s idling black truck lazily parked halfway onto the grass.

Sam peels away, both you and Joel letting out an audible sigh as he disappears. You peer at him through your lashes, feeling even more turned on by him now than before. He de-cocks the shotgun, resting it beside the front door as he closes it gently, turning the lock.

Joel strides towards you, scooping your face up into his hands as he takes your lips firmly against his. “You okay?”

You’re too Joel-drunk to respond, lacing your fingers into his unruly dark hair that’s soft to the touch. Your mouth reattaches to his, his hands on the small of your back, pulling you in closer.

He leans away, gazing down at you. “Talk to me, y/n, are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

You shake your head. “No, I’m fine. I can’t believe you threatened to shoot him,” you let out a small giggle. “Why is that so fucking hot?”

Joel chuckles, kissing your forehead as he holds you at arm’s length. “Let me get a proper look at you now.” He holds your hand above your head, allowing you to slowly turn your body around, feeling like a ballerina in a musical toy box. “Wow,” he breathes out sharply, “you’re so beautiful, y/n. And I love that you’re still wearing the necklace I got you.”

Your cheeks go hot at his compliment, your eyes flicking to the weapon that leans against the living room wall. “That’s not staying here, right?”

He turns to follow your line of sight, quickly shaking his head as he meets your gaze again. “No. I’m sorry if it scares you, it was meant to scare Sam.”

Giggling, you wrap your arms around his midsection. “I think it worked.”

Joel brushes your hair behind your ear, grazing your cheek with the side of his finger. “I’m glad you’re all right, y/n. I was so fucking worried, that I just did what I knew would get him to leave without us having to get into a physical altercation.”

“Mmm,” you hum, “I should hire you to be my big, sexy bodyguard.”

He chuckles, placing a gentle kiss on your lips before pulling away to say, “I’ll do it for free, honey.”

You and Joel leave the house, his left hand carrying the gun as his right is intertwined with yours. He tosses the weapon into the backseat of his truck, opening the passenger door for you. Joel lets out a little grunt as he gets into the driver’s side, flashing you a quick smile before leveling the truck out onto the road.

“So, where are we headed? I think it’ll be hard to top all of that excitement,” you tease, giggling.

“Maybe I got a jet after all,” he snickers. “I want it to be a surprise.”

You nod, picking at your fingers in your lap. “You know, it’s crazy that something so scary just happened, but I feel perfectly safe and happy now. Thank you so much, Joel.”

He reaches over and places his palm on your thigh, giving it a gentle grip before grinning shyly at you. “I’m sorry it happened, but I’m happy that you called me.”

Your flesh sears beneath his hand, your thighs desperately wanting to squeeze together to alleviate the growing ache that you have for Joel between them. He’s intimidated your ex, protected you, and made you feel like a shining star of beauty all within the last fifteen minutes. You’re beginning to believe that you’ll never find someone more perfect.

Everything was such a blur at home, that you weren’t able to appreciate the way Joel is dressed. He’s wearing a black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up just below his elbows. For his bottoms, he has fitted black slacks that accentuate every perfect outline of his legs, and the thickness between them. Your eyes travel up his body to his face, licking your lips as you admire his still tousled hair that has been tamed only a bit.

Joel catches you staring, a grin forming on his perfect lips. “What?” he asks sheepishly.

“You just are so fucking handsome. I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner, but my god, Joel.”

He laughs loudly, a redness having formed in his cheeks as he squeezes your thigh gently. “Thank you, y/n.”

Joel keeps his hand on your leg until he pulls in to a parking spot that has no buildings surrounding it.

Your head whips around, giving him a curious look. “And now you kill me?” you joke.

He laughs, shaking his head. “It’s just a bit of a walk. The parking across the street from the restaurant is always completely packed, so I wanted to find a nearby parking lot. You mind walking?”

You shake your head. “Of course not.”

Joel walks around the front of the truck, opening your door as he helps you out with his rough, calloused hand. You step down, wobbling a bit from your heels and the step from the door. He chuckles lightly as you begin your walk, the evening breeze caressing your skin delicately.

“Now, I’ve never been here before, but I’ve heard good things about it. It’s supposed to be nice,” he begins, his palm turning clammy in yours, “so, if you don’t like it, don’t blame me,” Joel lets out a nervous laugh.

“Joel,” you tell him gently, “you know that I’m not difficult to please, right? I’m just happy to be out with you. I told you that.”

He shakes his head. “You make me so nervous, and I don’t know why.” He scoffs lightly, “Well, I know why, but it’s frustrating for me. I just want to be calm.”

You stop walking, your feet halting on the sidewalk as you wait for Joel to turn to you. Your hands slide up his shirt, finding their way into the hair at the base of his head. You run your nose gently along his, giving him a soft, lingering kiss.

“You are the most perfect man,” you beam. “You don’t have to be nervous around me. So far, you’ve made me happier in the last week of knowing you than Sam made me in the last year. I promise you that I am crazy about you.” You pull away to gaze into those soft brown eyes that are innocent yet alluring at the same time. “I’ve been feeling a little self conscious myself, and truthfully I was overthinking everything while getting ready tonight. I wanted to wear just the right amount of makeup to please you, and the perfect dress, and I just wanted to be perfect.” You shrug, “I panicked.”

“Oh, honey,” his brows furrow with sympathy, planting a feathery kiss to the middle of your forehead. “You’re already so perfect to me.”

You giggle as your eyes water, trying to hide your sudden emotion. “You can’t be real.”

Joel tilts your head back up to meet your gaze, running his thumb along your cheek. “I’ve thought that about you since I first saw you at the park. What the hell is a woman like you doing with me?”

“Being happy for once.”

The two of you share a sensual, neat kiss on the sidewalk before reluctantly parting to walk towards the restaurant. The outside has a blue and white striped awning that is twinkling with pale yellow lights hanging from the bottom. Vast windows cover the outside, allowing you a clear look into the intimate, darkened setting of the place.

Joel pulls open the door, allowing you to step in first before he follows behind you. He tells the hostess the name for two, and she nods in response.

“Miller for two, please follow me,” she beams as she leaves the stand.

You both trail behind her, Joel’s hand clasped with yours as you’re lead to your table. Your seats are not at all what you’d expect. The entire wall against the windows is covered with a long, u-shaped couch with thick, teal cushions. The tables that aid the couch are a circular dark oak that compliments the atmosphere perfectly.

She leads you to your little corner, Joel gesturing you forward to choose where you want to sit. You land on the apex where the two corners meet, your body being enveloped by the plush cushion behind you. Joel sits beside you where the couch has a wooden armrest to his left that matches the table.

“This is the most comfortable I’ve ever been at a restaurant,” your voice is giddy and high-pitched. “I love it!”

He beams at you, placing his hand on your leg as he leans in to give you a chaste kiss. “I had to reserve these seats. They drew me in when I looked online.”

“They’re perfect,” you laugh lightly.

A server comes over and takes your drink order, Joel ordering a bottle of wine and a water, looking to you for approval before ordering a water for you, as well.

“Are you trying to get me drunk, Mr. Miller?” you jest.

“Just thought the alcohol might make us both a little less insecure,” he chuckles. “And I noticed at your house that you like white wine, so I just picked a random one. I hope you’ll like it.”

“It’s wine,” you laugh, “I’ll like it.”

You open the menu and explore for food options, your finger landing on a steak dish to show off to Joel.

“You already know me so well,” he giggles lightly. “Hmm, let me see about you, let me guess.” You watch as his finger runs across the menu, being briefly mesmerized before he lands on the exact dish you had your eye on.

“Am I really that predictable already? I need to be more mysterious.”

Joel laughs with you, his hand pushing through his hair briefly before connecting his gaze to yours. “I think both of us are too emotionally vulnerable to be mysterious, sweetheart.”

You let out a loud cackle, instantly covering your mouth in embarrassment as you feel your face brighten. “My god, I’m sorry. That was obnoxious.”

His head rolls back as he continues to chuckle, his hand on your thigh once again as he shakes his head. “Absolutely nothing obnoxious about you. Your laugh is fucking adorable.”

As you beam at him with adoration, the server returns with your drinks, offering to pour the wine to which Joel agrees. The man takes your orders, Joel throwing in a last minute appetizer that makes you roll your eyes. The prices here are insane, and you don’t want to be an overly-expensive date. Of course you love being treated like royalty, but you can’t help how guilty it makes you feel.

“Thank you, but you didn’t need to get an appetizer,” you say shyly. “I feel bad.”

He shrugs. “Why? Do you know how often I go on nice dates?”

“No.”

“Never,” he beams. “And I want it to be special because my date is very special to me.”

“Yeah?” your body leans in to his. “My date is very special to me, too.”

Joel’s eyes lower as he gives you a hooded, longing stare, that desire you saw in the pool making itself evident in his gaze.

You feel frozen in place, the heat between the two of you nearly tangible. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” he asks lowly, his face inching closer to yours. “Can’t I tease you in public?”

A small, hushed gasp catches in your throat, feeling Joel’s hand creep up your leg beneath the silky fabric of your dress.

“Joel,” you let out quietly, your eyes looking everywhere but at him.

“Do you want me to stop?” he whispers, backing away slightly to take a large gulp of his wine.

You shake your head.

“Tell me what you want.” His fingers are nearing your dampened panties, his voice becoming more raspy by the second. “You want me to keep going, y/n?”

“Yes,” you say, barely audible.

The table covers most of your legs, any onlooker only assuming that Joel has his hand on one of them. Nobody would ever think that two people would be so demented as to do something like this in a nice establishment, right?

He brings his wine glass to your lips, giving you as much as you can take before pulling it away, your breath becoming unsteady after you swallow. You can feel his fingertips beginning to pull the fabric aside and off of your weeping core, your eyes briefly fluttering closed.

Joel’s eyes are burning into the side of your head as you worriedly watch for anybody to acknowledge your existence. The slow pace in which he works is only torturing you further, making you lick your lips in anticipation.

His first finger slips easily past your folds, a slight groan coming from his throat. “Jesus christ, angel. Does it turn you on knowing we could be caught at any second?”

Your brows furrow together as you bite your lip, quickly nodding your head. “Yes.”

He tsks, shaking his head as he teases your entrance, not inserting himself inside. “Should I really be calling you angel? Name’s too innocent for you.”

“Joel,” you quietly whine, trying to move your hips to feel his finger inside of you, but he only pulls away.

“Hmm?” he hums. “Somebody watching?”

“No,” you breathe out. “Just want to feel you, please.”

Joel withdraws completely, adjusting your panties before resting his hand innocently back onto your thigh. “I’m sorry, sweet girl. Only wanted to tease you.”

The server returns shortly after with the appetizer, your brain being completely scattered and out of order from the intense arousal you feel. Joel has made you feel embarrassingly deprived and desperate in only a week of knowing him. How the hell are you ever going to survive this man?

He holds up one of the little appetizers for you to try and you lean in, keeping your eyes on his as you take a bite of the food. Your stomach moans in delight, but your libido is kicking and screaming in frustration.

“Good?” he arches a brow as he smirks.

“Very,” you nod, “thank you.” You down a bit of your wine, deciding that two can play at the game that he’s started.

Your hand slides around his thigh tenderly, admiring the firmness and the obvious strength beneath the slacks. A noticeable bulge is at the apex of his pants, making you smile to yourself as you place your palm against it. Joel’s body jerks forward slightly, his fist covering his mouth as he tries to maintain composure.

“Don’t worry,” you whisper, “I’m only teasing.”

You grip him in his slacks, stroking him up and down through the fabric, even going as far as to swirl your thumb around his tip.

“Y/n,” he lets out a quiet, shuddery moan. “I’ll make a much bigger mess than you would. And you drive me so fucking crazy that it’s very possible it will happen.”

“What will happen?” you play dumb, continuing to stroke him. “Tell me, Joel.”

His face has reddened and his breathing has hitched. “You’ll make me cum right here, right now.”

Your walls clench around nothing. “Maybe I want you to.”

“I’m already close, y/n. You get me so worked up.”

“Yeah?” Your hand moves a little quicker, briefly checking your surroundings before continuing to watch him hide his pleasure. “You do the same to me, but I keep getting denied.”

Joel’s lips part as he sucks in a sharp breath, his fists clenched against the table top. “You’re not an angel, baby. You’re a goddamn succubus.”

As his body shudders you pull away, ceasing all contact as you take a hearty toss back of your wine, letting out a content sigh. “Well, this succubus is declaring war.”

His brows are pinched together, his face turned down towards the table as he grunts quietly beneath his breath. “You are unbelievable in all the best and worst ways,” he chuckles lightly, flashing those darkened eyes at you. “War it is, honey.”

After a divine, sexually-charged meal, Joel pays, adjusting himself on the couch as he wraps his arm around your shoulders.

“Did you like everything?” he asks sweetly, placing a kiss on your temple.

“It was delicious,” you beam. “Thank you.”

He grins back. “Thank you for being my date.”

You finish your second glass of wine, watching as the server takes the black book with Joel’s card in it. “And thank you for being mine,” you giggle. “So, where to now?”

“Well,” he begins, “would you still like to have that sleepover we talked about?”

“Yes,” you answer quickly, Joel giggling at your hastiness.

“Your house or mine?”

You hum, thinking. “Well, when will Sarah be back?”

“I’m picking her up Sunday. She’s staying the entire weekend.”

“And you’re not working tomorrow?”

Joel shakes his head. “Not this week.”

“It’s wherever you want. I have a pool, but I’m also a little terrified to sleep there right now because of Sam.”

The hazy, lust-drunk look in his eyes fades slightly, his head bobbing up and down. “Then mine?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Before Joel pulls out of the parking lot, you leap over the center console, smushing your lips against his. He tastes of white wine and steak, making you moan into his mouth.

“I want you so fucking bad,” you groan, swirling your tongue with his. “I can’t stand to wait anymore.”

Joel moans quietly, his hands all over your back as yours stay rested on either side of his face. “I want you, too. We can always just use a condom, y/n. I don’t care.”

“No,” you shake your head. “I want to feel you.” You slide your hand to the middle of his pants. “I want to feel all of you.”

He groans, reattaching your lips hastily before pulling away to press his forehead to yours. “Then we’ll wait,” he breathes.

You let out an exasperated groan as you settle back into your seat, buckling yourself in as Joel lets out a playful laugh.

“You can’t be bratty at the decision you made, y/n,” he giggles. “That’s not how that works.”

“Yes I can!” you laugh, playfully shoving him. “You just make me feel so fucking—”

“Depraved?”

“Yes! Exactly.”

“Yep. Exactly where I’m at with you too, honey.”

You squirm a bit as Joel begins to drive back to his house. “I really liked when you called me petal,” you say lowly. “I’ve never been called that before.”

“Really?” he beams proudly. “It’s nice to know that I’m the first to call you that. I’ve never said that to anyone before, it just kinda came to me.”

“It was so hot,” you laugh. “I love all the pet names, but that one’s my favorite.”

“I’m glad you told me,” he places his hand at his familiar spot against your thigh, “I can use that to my advantage.”

Back at Joel’s, he unlocks the front door and you are guided in by his hand, stepping in awkwardly as you turn to watch him come in after you. He walks to the kitchen table and places the keys down, beginning to slide off his shoes.

You bend down to unbuckle your heel, but Joel’s voice stops you, making you stand to watch him stride across the house to you.

“Let me,” he says gently.

The man gets onto his one knee, raising your dress above your own knee as he places your foot onto his thigh. He gives you a soft smirk before focusing onto your heel, gently sliding it off before doing the same with the other.

You know that he can clearly see up your dress this way, but he doesn’t even glance between your legs, and you’re not sure if you admire how much of a gentleman he is, or if you’re frustrated that he didn’t steal a perverted look at you.

He stands, silently taking your hand as he shows you where the bathroom is, then his bedroom. The room smells completely like him, and you want to be enveloped in this scent forever. He has a large bed off to the right that is paired with two matching night tables on either side.

You suddenly have a sinking, icky feeling inside thinking about how one side of the bed used to be his wife’s. You know that it’s been a long time and that he’s allowed to move on, but you can’t shake the guilt that’s churning into panic in your chest.

Your hand strokes the necklace that rests on your chest, clutching it tightly as you’re reminded of your mother’s passing, and how it hasn’t gotten any easier. How could it have possibly gotten easier for Joel?

He has his back turned to you, unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off his shoulders. The clothing flies across the room, swishing into a laundry basket that has a few other things in it.

Joel finally looks to you, his grinning face falling to worry in an instant. “Y/n? What is it? What’s wrong?”

You shake your head, the panic nearly taking over your ability to speak. “I-I’m sorry. I don’t think I can sleep here.”

“Okay. Of course, baby. Let me take you home,” he says softly, giving you a soft kiss on the forehead before turning away to retrieve another shirt from his closet.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize again. “It’s just—” your eyes linger on the bed, nearly feeling like you can see another woman gazing back at you.

Joel pulls on a t-shirt, placing his hands on either side of your face to gain your attention. “Talk to me. What’s bothering you?”

“I can’t sleep where your wife slept, Joel. I feel so guilty.”

His eyes soften, a small grin creeping onto his face. “Y/n, you’re the most considerate, incredible woman.” He kisses your forehead again. “My wife never slept in that bed.”

You blink up at him. “She didn’t?”

“No.”

“But why?”

Joel smiles. “She told me she wanted me to move on after her, and she didn’t want me to be alone for the rest of my life. It took a few years, but I finally decided to start dating again. Even though nothing ever went anywhere, I still had the thought that if I ever slept with another woman again, I didn’t want it to be in the bed I shared with my wife.” He gestures behind him to the vast bed. “So, if you’d still like to stay, you would be the first woman to ever be in that bed.”

You want to cry. You want to burst into tears and apologize for being such an idiot, but also thank him for being the most understanding man on the planet. Instead, you wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him neatly with your fingers in his hair.

“How are you so perfect, Joel? Were you made in a lab?”

He cocks his head back slightly as he laughs, your eyes on his throat. “Yes. There’s some very perfect Joel-like rats out there that they tested on first before they made me.”

You giggle, leaning up to kiss him again. “You’re such a goofball.”

“Yeah, and you love it.” He pulls you in with his hands drifting down your back. “Do you still want to stay the night with me?”

You nod, raising your arms above your head. “I can’t sleep in a dress.”

Joel chuckles, bunching your dress up on the sides with his hands before he pulls it off, tossing it across the room once you’re free of it. His eyes stay fixed on yours, even though your breasts are exposed to him. He raises his arms, making you giggle as you slowly pull his shirt up, running your hands up his sides to slide it off.

His hands cup your breasts, his lips gingerly pressing to yours as he moves his hands in slow, kneading circles. The sensation isn’t as much arousing as it is therapeutic, like a massage. You let out a satisfied hum as your head rolls back, Joel purposefully massaging your chest now.

“Will you lay down for me?” he asks quietly.

You open your eyes and nod, climbing onto the bed to lay on your back until Joel guides you to your stomach. You hear his slacks being kicked off before you feel his weight pressing into the bed, his knees straddling your thighs as he leans down and places a gentle kiss at the top of your spine.

“Every inch of you is perfect, y/n,” he says between kisses, making goosebumps rise up to your skin. “You’re so soft.” He leans away, his fingers slowly beginning to knead at your back. “How does that feel?”

“So good,” you groan, enjoying the unexpected massage. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me, petal,” he says quietly, making your thighs press together beneath him. “Just want you to feel good.”

“You always make me feel good.”

He chuckles quietly, his hands sliding down your spine to the very bottom, right above your panty line. You coo at the relief, that section of your back being the part that gives an occasional soreness from sitting at work for too long.

Joel’s thumbs press into you, your hands on either side of your head as you enjoy his sensual touch. You can’t help the arousal you feel from it. It’s Joel, for fuck’s sake.

He leans down moving his hand up your back to rub your scalp gently. “Do you want me to make you cum, petal?”

A small moan makes its debut from your lips, your head immediately nodding. “Yes, please.”

Joel kisses the shell of your ear as his hand moves beneath you, your hips immediately lifting up to grant him access. He doesn’t play games like earlier at the restaurant. This time, he slides into the top of your panties and begins to rub your swollen clit in circles.

Your hands squeeze at the bed, gripping it tightly as you let out a choked groan. “Please don’t tease me this time, Joel. I can’t handle it again.”

“I won’t, sweet girl. The war was over the second I felt how wet you are. You need me, baby, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you moan, his fingers rubbing you skillfully. “So badly.”

“I love to hear you so desperate for me. Makes me feel like a king.”

His erection is pressing hard into your back through his briefs, and all you want is to feel him stretch you.

“Joel,” you whimper, your hips pushing against his fingers, “I want you inside of me.”

“Shh,” he shushes gently. “Enjoy my fingers for now. A few more days and I’m all yours.”

This is reminiscent of when the two of you had phone sex the other day, but this time is way better. Joel is the one touching you, and he’s actually here, his weight on top of you and his breath against your ear.

You groan, squirming beneath him as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to your peak. His fingers speed up, keeping his tight, neat circles against you.

His tongue swipes up your earlobe, nibbling on it gently as he faintly grunts into it. “Yes, y/n. Can tell you’re close by the way you’re wiggling. Let go for me, petal.”

The pet name is the final thing that causes the band in your abdomen to snap, your cries barreling out of you as your walls flutter desperately around absolutely nothing. His fingers keep up their pace until the sensation becomes too much, making you jerk your hips aside. Joel pulls his hand away, your back heaving against him from the intensity of your climax.

“Mmm, so good for me, angel. You listen so fucking well,” Joel praises into your ear, giving the side of your head a gentle kiss. “You feel relaxed enough for bed now?”

You nod lazily into the pillow, your eyes feeling heavy as you slowly turn onto your side, watching Joel lay beside you.

“What about you?” your voice rasps, reaching for his obviously hardened cock.

Joel gently stops you, bringing your knuckles up to his mouth to place his lips against them softly. “This wasn’t about me, baby.” He kisses your knuckles again. “Get some sleep. We have all day tomorrow to do whatever you want.”

You beam at him, your lids sliding closed. “What if I want tomorrow to be about you?”

He chuckles, leaning in and kissing you softly, pulling your body into his. “Good night, y/n.”

“Good night, Joel.”

****

[insaneiceshard]

Chapter 4

Hello hello! New chapter fresh and off the press! (not really this one is a week old...) AO3 is completely set up, so if you prefer reading stuff on there you are free to do so! Updates on there will be spaced out for my sanity and to keep connected story bits together.

Trigger Warnings: Cannon typical violence, implied suicide, grief of a loved one, panic attack. This one is pretty heavy so please take tare of yourself.

Prev---First

Gourmand was jolted awake, not by the opening of the gates, but by an ugly, distorted, ring of a bell. Suddenly in a panic, she shot up and her eyes darted to the thing lighting up the den, a symbol she had wished she'd forgotten. 

A slugcat stared down at her, eyes strobing every colour of the rainbow and casting light throughout the denlike firecrackers. Their short lime fur whipped around them, propelled by wind that can’t be here. How had this slugcat snuck into the den? Had they hid in the darkness, waiting for the right moment to strike? Gourmand was intensely aware that this scug had no good intentions with that golden pinwheel above them. She whipped into action, grabbing her spear, which sat in its sling next to her, and with all the strength she could muster, launched it towards the intruder. 

The den was instantly shrouded in darkness once again, and the ugly bell rang silent as the body thudded down to the ground. The metallic smell of blood flooded the air, almost choking Gourmand. She stood still, paralyzed. Her breathing was quick and painful, tearing through her lungs as the fuzz around her eyes began to wet. 

She couldn’t let her fear take over her. She couldn’t let her mind race to places she never wanted to go again. She took a seat against a wall and focused on her breathing. Holding her own body tight, she filled her lungs full, and let the air out in a slow, and shaky breath. Like filling and emptying a gourd, she streamed the air in, and then out. Her heart was still beating heavily in her chest and up her throat, but she had shaken away the panic and slumped down in the now cold and dark den. She considered checking the mysterious slugcat, to see if it was truly well and dead, but sleep was already taking over again. It looks like one of the constants in her life was how quickly you could fall asleep in one of these shelters. 

She crawled away to lie down in the furthest corner away from the corpse and stared at it through the darkness. Finally, she closed her eyes. Her mind had decided to play a nasty trick on her that night, so she dreamt of a memory she desperately tried to forget.

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

Gourmand hadn’t the slightest clue how they found her, but they had. They finally came home. She threw the biggest party she could, and the siblings were fed with good food till they were bursting at the seams. Those first years together were the best, her heart constantly felt warm and full of love. She taught Monk how to cook, a skill they practically begged Gourmand to teach them. Cooked meals were not necessary for survival, like hunting or fighting, so giving Monk this opportunity meant everything to her. They were happy, thriving for the first time in a long while. 

But even then on the happiest days, she noticed something off with Survivor. 

They spoke of the robots that ruled the land. Of the beings that had left long ago, who built this world from the ground up. Of the Void Sea. Gourmand knew about all of it. The ignorant child and his broken sister. The pompous idiots that still linger, stuck in between life and death. How couldn't she? She had to admit, however, that hearing Survivor’s stories inside the same complex she explored years ago was nice, fun even! How different their journeys only a few years apart could be. But their tone, the way they spoke of morals and karma. How the cycle can be broken, once and for all. Gourmand hadn’t the slightest clue what to do. She thought maybe the young scug was just naive, taking the word of a sad robot as truth. In time, they’d learn. In time, they could forget the false lessons they were taught. 

However, Survivor did not want to give themselves time. 

First, it was Monk waking up alone. Then, it was the hunting party, short only one slugcat. Nothing, no rain, no leviathan, could replicate the overwhelming dread she felt. The absolute frenzy she was consumed by. She hadn’t wanted Monk to come with her, but she was too much in a rush to reason with them. 

As they descended they had tried to claw for any reason why Survivor could not be down there. Gone for a hunt, maybe they just needed some time alone? Maybe they got lost, and the both of them were looking in the wrong direction. They were just fine last night! They had sung songs together, even told stories and painted them on the den walls! They reached a shelter at an entrance that led to The Depths. She convinced them to wait inside. If she found nothing, they would sleep and head back up early in the morning to look elsewhere. She had the thought as she left, that she had never seen Monk’s eyes so empty. So devoid of hope. She would say that was the worst she had ever felt in her long life, if it weren't for Monk’s wails that followed her return.

They had left something for her, down there. Their paw print, a pinwheel crossed through it, and their scent unmistakably lingering on the paint plastered across the stone wall of the temple.

[moonlightknightess]

Hello

can I get some master/slave(pet) bdsm smut with toys( master , mistress and pet) , basically warriors Eren and mikasa get rewarded a slave(pet) AKA Sasha for their success

it’s alright if you don’t want to do it ☺️

There’s something similar for Sasha and mikasa on AO3 the work is called master’s pet by orphan account

😳 Oh lord

Ngl I had to read that piece you suggested cuz I really needed some inspiration 💀 it's gonna be the first time I ever write about sex toys too so bear with me!

Not proof read! And beware cuz this one is gonna be more into the dark side of what fiction has to offer, some TW are: death, noncon, bdsm issues but without the consent part, and so on

PS: this is yet another one of the asks I kept on the drafts for so long so sorry about it 🥲

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The operation to retreave the Titan Founder didn't went as they planned

So many things went wrong at the moment they started to invade Liberio, and to be fair, their plan was doomed ever since its conception

You have to be really hopeful (or dumb) to truly believe it was possible to invade Marley's capital, whose army and technology were centuries ahead of them and was probably deemed the most dangerous country to face in a war

Still, she wouldn't have backed out from joining in the operation, she never did when she was told that most of them would die, nor she did when she entered the Surveu Corps, throwing her dream to join thr MP's to the trashcan

She really wanted to pay the very same people that backstabbed her trust in such a cruelty way with the same coin afterall

That's why, when she witnessed the now so familiar yellowish thunders light the skies and saw them in their titan form, she didn't think twice before flying to them head on, no hesitation in doing the right thing, even less when at the time they proclaimed themselves as the titans that destroyed Maria wall she couldn't do anything but

Still, it wasn't enough, there was not a squad big or skilled enough to win in a fight against both the Founder titan and the Warhammer titan, she doesn't think even Captain Levi would be able to pull it, let alone the best thing the Survey Corps had to offer

She only wished they just finished her life just like they did with so many of her comrades, because what they were doing to her right now was probably way worse than anything else

- Mmmgh! - The feral scream that was force out of her lungs was muffled, the bite of the metal clamps on her nipples making her hiss in pain and bite onto the obtruction stuffing her mouth, tears of frustration daring to fall and make new wet dry paths all over her cheeks

- Don't even dare - The sudden tug of the chain attached to the clamps made her toss and turn on the soft mattress where she was lying at, her back arching in the hopes of not letting them have room to do tug her again, an useless effort once she felt the harsh pressure of them tugging her up again

There was a time in which she looked up at them, for always being on top anyone else when it came to training, always willing to help her out when she needed it, even if they had to risk their life in the process

And yet, there is so much she could be grateful with Eren for teaching her what she knows about self-defense and combat techniques when he uses her mouth as his mere stress relief, his massive shaft making her gag on him everytime he snaps his hips further against her small mouth, the telltale of his cock bulging her throat in a way that dreaded to snap open the collar around it, the same one that deems her as a mere pet for their pleasure

There is so much she can be thankful for Mikasa's friendship and the countless times she has ever saved her life when she stirs her insides with so little difficulty it makes her want to scream, the buzz-like vibration of that hellish phalic-like device throughout all her core making her legs shudder and leak even wetter, which only made it easier for her to speed up the pace to a punishing tempo that makes her feel lose conciousness, the back and forth dance of her hips plowing against her own thighs managing more orgasms that she has ever got in her life so far

It has been like this for quite some time already, whenever she hears footsteps outside the room in which they held her captive she just knows things were about to get nasty, the darkish laughs they dedicate at her whenever they open the door and are meet with the sight of one of her former comrades blindfolded and chained to the ground the most tame thing they could do to her

It has been quite some time since they started to break her spirit little by little with every tortuous lust-filled treat, sometimes Mikasa would come alone, every lick delivered by her togue over her clit as she pumped that smooth plastic rod in and out of her insides making her writh and shake to the core in a muscle tauting sensation, the separation bar attached to her ankles making it impossible for her to denie it, Eren's own intake taking into the form of forcing her to ride his thigh, making her smear him in her juices as he forces the dildo in and out of her ass, hands playing with the mast of her rear as he pumps the dildo at a quick pace, his cock already buried inside her and bulging her stomach with his impressive length, his lips forcing himself on hers and successfully filling er every holes

And still, the worst parts comes when they both decide to come at her at the same time, her mind going insane everytime Eren plows her from behind as Mikasa robes the air from her lungs with every kiss shared, her own strap own wreaking havok on her front as they both timed their movements so perfectly it makes her come undone in seconds, eyes tearing up whenever Eren forces that egg shaped pink device on her clit and makes her beg, all the while she is forced to lap at Mikasa's folds clean, sharp eyes taking into the sight of her

- Tired already, little dog? - She doesn't know how much time she spent daydreaming like that, but when she comes back to reality Mikasa is already fucking her like her life depends on it, her juices gushing out with every thrust in and her back arching to its limits with every tug of the chain attached to the clamps on her nipples, Eren going overboard by fucking her mouth with such an erractic tempo it makes er mind go numb

It's only when they both thrust in for one last time that she gets a break from the four hours of torture they made her endure, with Eren exploding and shooting his seed right in the deepeness of her throat where she can't do anything but to swallow it and Mikasa keeps sheathed right inside of her, the vibrations of her strap on over stimulating her already sensitive erogenous area

- Not bad for a filthy Eldian - Only when he gets himself out and make sures she swallowed everything he decides he can give her a little treat, his fingers tugging the leash attached to her collar and bringing her up, with her willingly letting her tongue out for him to spit on just like usual, swallowing it before he can ever command her to do it

She just hopes someone can put an end to this before if its too late to save her...

Before they both turn her into something so utterly different from the Sasha she has always been

[masterofmajora]

Kingdom Come Chpt1 pt1

In the Beginning there was time. once flowing Time Begot Space. For without Space, Time had no structure. It would branch into dying existences with no way to control or know when, why, and what beholds of time. As Space and time continued, Twins of two different aspects were born. Light and Dark, Light was born as a beautiful Feminine figure. Her body is shaped round and plump for she would bring life to many and give birth to a new existence. "Solles'' was the name given to her by Time. Her twin brother would be a lanky and feeble man Shaped figure, almost skeletal. "For he was the beholder of Darkness. Calamity." Was uttered nervously by Space. "She will give life and prosper to her light but he will take life and be embarrassed in his darkness" Proclaimed by Space forewarning Time of what the two will bring to the new day and age. As Time and Space flowed and prospered into existence, Solles gave birth to the skies, Lands, and all elements accustomed to this world we know. After she gave birth to fire she laid in rest in the river to cool herself off, she rested her head upon a mountain and stayed in slumber for eons. Calamity admired his sister's creations. He always stood by her when she would give birth to comfort her in her time of need. During the creation of earth and wind. Earth got very jealous of Wind and tried attacking Wind while in Solles`s arms. The Phantasmic figure decided to build his powerful sister a weapon of protection.This Artifact would provide her with coverage during her child birth and creations so no one would attack her while bonding with her new child. The shield made out of the strongest metal shielding his twin from any attack. His sister admired his heart and thoughtfulness even though his body is of death and despair. The brother, keeping his heart for his sister strong in his sleeves, watched his bet her birth of the world as time passed on and on. Once the sister finally birthed the last element she asked her brother to teach her the skill of forgery, but didn’t tell him it was to make him a gift. Solles wanted to repay her grim brother for his protection and love. She proclaimed “I have birthed all things into existence. Alas brother, you have created the purpose for my creation. For it was the dark that created love.” Calamity smiles and takes the material out of his sister's hands and shows her the processes he has created with her new life. He shows her how to melt the material with fire. Maintain the fire with wind. Shape the material with the earth making molds in the ground. As well as using water to cool the molten material. The sister carefully studying under her brother patiently worked till she created a weapon of mass destruction. “My brother. Your soul weeps for your power is to bring life to its end. But please do not fall into despair about this fact. For you have given me the purpose of reanimation to continue the next age and era of the recreation of life. Take this. It is Scythe in a new direction. Its name is Soulbrand. For each soul you strike with this weapon comes back to me and allows me to reform and recleanse the soul making them anew. Go out my brother. And find those whose souls are at their end. Allow them a new opportunity in the next day and age.” The brother looked upon the Blackened blade with its long and coarse Snath made out of a pitch black wood strengthen by brimstone and darkness. “My dearest sister.” Muttered the Phantom “Your kind words. Your soft heart. I don’t deserve a sister as yourself. For as you see I have made you your shield to protect you but no weapon to aid you in your battles. I wanted to give you these gifts. I appreciate the gift you have given me and I wish to show my gratitude with this.”

[pashko-themothboy]

may I introduce you a skwistok magical child

Freyja Skwigelf

or an accidental abuse of godly powers combined with a certain kink

infodump under the cut

she was created with Skwisgaar's and Toki's life/death powers combined that makes her a medium. her ability to talk to the dead has to help her continue the prophecy

her creation was foretold and Charles prepared a nursery and a team of klokateers in advance. the guys didn't even know about all of it till the accident

Skwisgaar won a staring contest for Freyja's last name

the guys claimed to have no interest in the child but they would sneak into the nursery till they all met there and quit pretending

Nathan afraid to hold the baby 'cause she is so tiny and fragile and when he finally does he is an emotional mess. "Don't throws up bloods on my baby, Nathans!" (I'm a sucker for scenes like this)

the guys, Skwisgaar and Toki especially, would complain about hardship of parenthood to avoid work and be offended when someone confronts them saying klokateers take care of the child

Freyja calls the guys pappa, pappi, dad, Dadderface and Pickles

she can tell all her klokateers apart. sometimes she doesn't notice when they die since she still sees them as ghost

Freyja is afraid of clowns (it has nothing to do with Rockso. the creep is forbidden anywhere near the girl) Toki invited one for her first birthday and poor baby went hysterical

Toki once made a fatal mistake and gave Freyja his Deady and couldn't get it back. so he ordered Bear Devil to be made for her

Freyja is homeschooled. she has the best tutors and is academically gifted. but she won't survive in a school system

half of the time she is with the church of the Blackklok. they study her powers and help her control them

she knows the prophecy by heart but only the verses. she has no idea what happened in reality

Freyja lacks social skills. she barely had any peers around. and it were mostly ghosts of teenage Dethklok fans. her first friend was Juliette who's ghost stayed in Mordland after she died

but she do have some friends online who know her as Juliette Warelf

her pet spiders are the cutest creatures in the world, even cuter than yard wolves. you can't prove her wrong

most of her half-siblings hate her

they teach Freyja both Norwegian and Swedish. sometimes she would talk in what she calls Scandinavian-American

when Freyja grew out of friendship with Juliette she helped the girl with her last wish and set her free. it was the first and for a while the only time Freyja made a ghost solid

after that she felt quite lonely. all those teenage ghost seemed cool when she was a child. but as a teen herself Freyja doesn't need more terrible metalheads around. she has her dads and she doesn't even like metal that much

"as the chosen one" Freyja decided that the universe should give her someone to be by her side for all time (a dark ritual is involved)

[idahofallshq]

wow, orion's backstory and upbringing is truly unique! in some ways, orion is one the lucky ones, being able to grow up at sea, away from the reaches of the infection, where it's calm and quiet. we love the idea of someone so sheltered going from the stillness of the sea to the fiery turmoil in idaho falls. we wonder how his non confrontational tendencies will hold up in the face of a new uprising, will he be able to sit back and watch alexei break down the zone?

welcome to idaho falls, orion lum! please make sure to complete the accepted checklist so we can invite you to our servers. we can’t wait to start writing with you!

OOC.

Name: Yen

Age: 27

Pronouns: she/her

Timezone: hst

previous roleplay blog: redacted

wanted connection?: n/a

IC.

 Name: Orion Lum

gender & pronouns: Cis man, he/him

faceclaim: Daniel Henney

age & birthdate: 45, 12 February 1999.

Occupation: Mechanical Engineer

immunity: Yes, but he doesn’t know it.

skills.  

Mechanical Engineering. Orion grew up learning about engines and heavy machinery many times the size of himself, and things he works on these days are far less difficult to understand by comparison. He finds it a bit fascinating to see it all in smaller scale, though he will admit it can be slightly infuriating at times because things are so small.

Radio/Communications. His mother was one of the communications specialists aboard the cargo barge he grew up on, and she spent many an hour teaching a fascinated little boy about all things communications and radios. Given enough time and the right parts, he can usually MacGyver old and decrepit radios into working states.

Metal Working. Orion knows how to weld both underwater and above water. Gotta learn how to patch the holes in your ship when you can't take it in for dry dock maintenance, and it's a skill that's become quite valuable to know how to do it well with minimal waste.

 positive traits.

Patient. If there's something the monotony of being at sea for weeks at a time brings, it's an astounding amount of patience. He's resilient and dedicated in his work, and rarely does impatience or frustration shake his convictions.

Clever. Perhaps it started with an obsession with a rubix cube as a kid, but Orion often finds himself fascinated by puzzles and the challenge of finding and fixing unknown problems with machines. He's always enjoyed the puzzle of finding out what makes a machine tick (or not tick), and any time he gets a new machine to dig around in is always rather stimulating for his intellectual curiosities. The more obscure the problem, the more eager he is to look for that unexpected or unconventional answer to the riddle.

Gentle Giant. He's often been told that when he works he often wears a rather intimidating look of concentration that's often mistaken for the colloquially named "resting bitch face". He doesn't often intentionally put on airs of intimidation often, but combined with his height and stature, on the occasion it's called for it comes in quite handy. Otherwise, though he can fend for himself, he’s a bit more pacifist in nature, with actual violence as something as a last resort.  

negative traits.

Non Confrontational: Finds a certain comfort in routine and relative safety. If his bubble isn’t actively threatened, he’s not likely to test actions that he perceives could potentially upset his status quo.

Self Sacrificing. Doesn’t often let himself say no enough. He has a tendency to put others first, perhaps a little too often.

Defensive: Though he doesn't always act on it, he hates being condescended to by holier than thou individuals who let their perceived rank blow their heads up with bravado. The value of being humble with your fortune was something instilled in him from a young age, and to see many enforcers let their designation of power get to their head grates on his nerves, especially when it’s directed towards himself.

 Cw: parental death

You've spent more of your life on water than land, at least, that'd been the case when the world went to hell. Your father had been the captain of a cargo freight liner, your mother part of the crew, and as long as you can remember you've always called the sea home. The story goes they took you out to sea as soon as the doctor gave the okay, and you took your first steps on floors that rolled with waves. You said your first words somewhere between Hawaii and Guam, learned your alphabet where A was for, not Apple, but Alpha. B was for Bravo. Charlie, Delta, Echo, and so on. Some kids learned to count with blocks, you learned to count shipping containers, your maths with shipping manifests. Some kids learn their first bad words on the playground, you learned them in the galley with the colorful vocabulary of a crew of seamen.

By the time you’re 12 or 13, most kids are entrenched with the dramas of middle school, but you’re arms deep in engine grease and welding masks because you’ve made friends with the old geezers that keep the ship together. They teach you all there is to know about mechanics, but of course they have the sense to start you off on small watercraft before they let you at the bowels of the engine rooms. With it all of course, comes the knowledge of how to take apart, put back together, and of course operate a dozen or so different water vehicles and heavy equipment. You're even getting paid for it. It's a life on the open seas and you love it.

Mom unexpectedly passes you when you're 14, and you and the sea are all there is to keep dad together. But the world falls to pieces before he can, and it all happens with a single radio transmission.

At first you stay out at sea because the ports have closed temporarily. At first you and the others of the small crew grumble, because you've been at sea for weeks and the desire for shore leave is just beyond their reach--there’s much to catch up on, after all. Friends to see, food to eat, new movies to watch--but you remain aboard even though you’re all not happy about it. But then, the radio transmissions become more dire. "Closed for an abundance of caution" becomes "closed for containment" and so on. Disgruntled impatience with the bureaucracy of Port Authority turns from disbelief, to shock and horror. Eventually they stop receiving transmissions. And the silence ends up being far more unnerving than receiving patchy news of the infected was.

There had been a line of freight liners, posted for weeks outside the port as commercial trade came to a standstill, and a choice had to be made. Some, like your dad, wanted to turn the freight vessel around and get back out to open sea. If things had gone bad enough that transmissions had gone down, being a stone's throw away from the shore surely wasn't a good idea. But some all the same wanted to get to land. And so the crew divided. Your dad lets some of the crew go off for shore, the rest of you remain, the ones that look to silent and smoking shores with too much unease. You weigh anchor, leaving the congested water lanes at the Port of Los Angeles far behind you for open sea. They'd been lucky enough to have enough fuel to get them a fair distance out to sea, because news carries from other radio frequencies used by other freight carriers--the situation gets monumentally worse on the continent. Very, very quickly.

A temporary retreat to the sea becomes permanent for the foreseeable future. The cargo you were all once so eager to offload, but hadn't been allowed to, miraculously carries your survival for over a decade before they're scraping the bottom of the barrel. There's no more food. The non-perishables they'd been lucky enough to be transporting when it all went to hell runs out. The meager crops they’ve managed to grow from seeds scavenged from your containers get swept away or drowned in sea water after a bad storm. Fish, though a logical source for food, isn’t reliable when you’re not best equipped for it. You’re on a frigate, after all, not a fishing vessel.

Moral isn’t good. It damn well tanks with your father’s unexpected death. He'd been a stubborn man, and a storm at sea had the man hitting his head in just the wrong way. He'd been fine, initially, just a sore bump, he'd said. But he dismisses the seriousness of it all, doesn't tell anyone of the throbbing bruise beneath his hair that simply gets worse.

One day he doesn't wake up.

It's not long after that, supplies are basically nil, and the state of the engines is becoming more and more of a concern. You’ve done your best, but there’s only so much you and the crew can do without your ship seeing a dock for proper maintenance for over a decade. It’s time.

So they make the tough call to fire up the engines properly and weigh anchor. These days you operate using minimal power to get by, only firing up the engine enough to make sure she doesn’t corrode - keeping her in good enough shape so she could meet the inevitable task of one last journey. You dip into that last reserve of fuel that’s just enough to get you close enough to shore to take a skiff, and the first step you take on land in years is to the sight of unrecognizable shores.

The world you find yourself in is a wasteland that finds you desperately missing your oasis at sea. Gods how you wish you'd found a way to stay there. It’s one thing to hear about it on the radio, to not hear about it for years in the silence of the radio waves. It’s something else entirely to see just how understated it all was.

You'd once thought the trappings of the mainland hell in a handbasket, the stillness of the unmoving earth unnerving. Now it’s unnerving for an entirely different reason and hell has long escaped the handbasket.

The west coast is obliterated and a minefield of undead to navigate, you make your way up the California coast. And it doesn’t take long to figure out that FEDRA is bad news. You take to the mountains, sticking to the old Pacific Crest Trail that your parents once told you stories of. You walk the same trails they once hiked, the journey under the stars and trees a novelty to hold tight to your chest. That odd bit of sentimentality follows you and the remaining crew  as you march along the mountain ridges, making camps of relative safety at old firewatch towers, changing locations periodically for a few years. You cross the border into Oregon eventually, and the forest and woods you’ve claimed safety in become more treacherous.

You’re fewer in number and several years at land when you hear of Jackson Town on an old radio you manage to tap into at one of those old firewatch towers. After an especially difficult winter, you all decide it’s time to take the risk of a settlement, and you plot the journey to Wyoming. But through an uncontrollable chain of events, you end up in Idaho Falls instead.

And gods, do you hate it here. Alexei’s reign is absolute, and rife with a cruelty and authoritarian obsession that turns your stomach. You’ve been here for a few years now, managing to earn yourself a position of minor importance with all the mechanical engineering knowledge you’ve picked up aboard the ship. Truck engines… boiler heaters… the water pump station -- it all seems like child’s play compared to the immense inner workings that allowed freight liners to cross oceans.

The tools and your minimal welding kit you’ve lugged across several states and over mountains have paid their weight in gold, because it’s bought you the value of your life and skills in a tyrant’s domain for several years now. You long for the sea, long to leave for greener pastures even if Jackson Town may not be it any more, and something tells you that opportunity lurks around the corner.

Unrest and whispers of a people that have had enough reach your ears, and though Alexei responds as he always does, there’s something different this time around. You’ve walked a careful line of indifference and subservience, playing up a preference for machines and engines instead of people or politics to provide a bubble of safety for you and your own--but that armor of neutrality may not be enough any more.

As terrifying an idea it may be to consider, it may be time to stop keeping your ear to the ground and act.

 Arcs

A close call; too close. He doesn’t know he’s immune, and the close calls that he’s had with the virus he unknowingly attributes to extraordinarily good luck. Would love to see him (or another) have that realization that something’s not quite right when he gets an injury and/or has an encounter that seemingly does nothing to him but cause a little bit of inconvenient pain.

Put it together, take it apart. He knows how to keep engines from blowing up and knows how to patch them together to keep the gears and motors spinning. Would love to see him use this mechanical knowledge to cause a bit of intentional chaos.

Some random little headcanons:

Can’t fucking stand Cheetoes or Cheerios. They’d had containers full of them and yes, they didn’t let a single one go to waste despite how sick of them they became. The mere thought of them makes Orion a little green.  

Even though he’s been on land for years now, sometimes he still gets bouts of land sickness and a somewhat related insomnia. The stillness of a mattress is unnerving, and if the weather is decent enough, he’ll lug a makeshift hammock up a few meters in a tree. It almost feels like home.

Has a necklace he keeps tucked under his shirt with a few old stripped bolts from the cargo ship he’d called home for much of his life.

Was narrowly almost named Polaris by astrology obsessed parents. He thanks whatever gods there might be that they decided on Orion instead.

In the summer months will regularly go for a dip in the river if only to pretend for a moment he’s at sea.

[parkpeach02]

Royally Yours II Aemond Targaryen

Part II.

summary || "And life went on. It was not the same. But it went on."

warnings || angst, frenemies to lovers, minor smut, death, incest, explicit words, mention of violence.

a/n || reblogs, comments and like are all really appreciated!

Part I. || Part ll. || Part lll. || Part lV. || Part V. || Part VI.

It's been years since I last visited King's Landing. I missed the familiar corridors and the garden in the middle of the palace. I missed running and stamping my feet on the hard stone floors. All these memories came to mind as I flew on my beautiful dragon. A cool breeze blew through my hair and tickled my skin.

Recently, when news came through the raven that the King was bedridden and his illness was overtaking him, my mother decided that we should all travel to King's Landing to be there for our grandsire. As my mother was about to give birth to another Targaryen, they decided to travel by boats and carriages, while I convinced my mother to let me ride my dragon.

Just as I came to my senses I could see the palace and surrounding buildings. I steered Viserion, my beautiful ice-blue dragon, towards the dragon pit and landed him carefully. The dragon keepers had already gathered around him to guide him safely into the pit. I slid down from the saddle, ruffled my riding attire and let my hand slide slowly over his body until I reached his head.

"Gevie zaldrīzes!" I whisper to my dragon as I press my head onto his. I say goodbye to my dragon and thank the keepers for protecting him. I am walking towards the entrance when I hear the familiar click and scrape of swords. It is music to my ears.

I have always been grateful that my father never shied away from teaching me and my brothers how to use swords. He even gave me the most beautiful dagger with a black handle and gold details, which I always carry with me when I wear my riding attire.

As I step closer to where the noise came from, I put my hands behind my back and survey the commotion in front of me. People have gathered around two male figures who are engaged in some kind of practise fight. I recognise the dark-haired man in the silver armour immediately, Sir Criston Cole, an amazing knight but a terrible man. But I do not recognise the other figure.

Tall, slenderly built, leather clothes, beautiful silver hair. He was of Targaryen blood and as he turns, his eyepatch visible. Has it been so long that Aemond grew before your eyes into a man you do not recognise. He really is beautiful. But the way he handles the sword only makes me curious. I quickly walk over to the table where various swords, daggers and other weapons are displayed. I let my fingers glide over the cold metal and pick up the sword I always choose when I practise here.

I move carefully among the people, trying not to be spotted. And just at the moment when Aemond's back is turned to me, I make my presence known, raise the sword and point it at his neck, just as he did to Sir Criston Cole. The people gasp immediately and the guards draw their swords.

"Is this the way you treat a princess? No, is this how you treat the heir to the Iron Throne!" I exclaim as I look into the faces of the guards who have drawn their swords. They all regret their actions and immediately bow apologetically. Sir Criston Cole turns away from the prince, while Aemond slowly turns to me.

His lips twitch and his eye sparkle. His face is amused. It takes him a moment to connect the name with the face, but the recognisable scar on your face ruins the whole mystery.

"Long time no see, my beautiful niece!" His voice is soft and enchanting.

"Do you dare?" I ask, still holding my hand with the sword at his neck. He looked at me for what felt like an eternity until he took a few steps back and raised his hand.

As soon as our swords clicked for the first time, people began to gather. I can not lie, Aemond is a skilled swordsman, but my father taught me better. I move around quickly, clutching my sword tightly. And in the blink of an eye, we were both at each other's throats, his blade touching my neck as mine did the same. We both gasp, our hair sticking to our skin, but we do not break eye contact. I feel his gaze on my scar as he feels my gaze on his.

Then we both drop our swords and embrace. It felt strange to be shorter than him, because I always teased him about his height. His heart was beating fast, right where my head was. I hugged him tightly again before loosening the embrace.

"I missed you, my prince!" A small smile on my face. I can see his cheeks change colour.

"I have missed you my princess, you sure have grown into a beautiful woman!" He takes my hand in his and slowly brings it to his lips as he presses a small kiss to my knuckles, never breaking eye contact. This intimate moment leaves me speechless.

After our greeting, we make our way inside the palace. The familiar walls of the palace feel unfamiliar and colder than they used to be.

"I see a lot has changed here." I remark.

"Mhm."

"You have changed." I slow my walk and turn slightly to face him. I bring my hand up to his face and run my finger lightly over his healed scar.

"It's been quite a long time since you were last here, people grow, you know." His sarcastic remark only elicits a laugh from me.

"I guess I got my eye for an eye." Sadness spreads across my face as I study his face.

"Do not be sad about your brother's actions, after all, I gained a dragon." He places his hand on mine.

"I am sorry Aemond, if I had been there I could have stopped him."

"It's not your fault, my princess." He smiles gently.

Our moment was interrupted when I heard my mother's voice echoing through the corridors.

"You have arrived, my sweet daughter!" She exclaims as she opens her hands to embrace me.

"I missed you, mother." I put my head on her shoulder as she hugs me tightly.

"You stink of dragon!" She exclaims. Aemond laughs at her statement, whereupon I turn my head and stare at him.

Aemond apologises shortly afterwards and takes his leave of us with a slight bow.

"I dare say he's grown quite beautifuly." My mother nudges me as we watch Aemond leave. I tried hard not to show my mother the slight blush that threatened to creep onto my face. Aemond and I were always together when we were younger. I was always the one to scold the others when they teased him, and our shared scars only brought us closer.

If it was not for our family rivalry, we might've had a chance of being betrothed. I utter a sad sign as my mother snaps me out of my thoughts and drags me to my assigned chambers.

"I have instructed the maids to prepare a bath for you so you can wash up before dinner, but before that you should pay your grandsire a visit." She informs me as she leaves so that I can have a bath and freshen up.

After my bath, I dry my damp body and get dressed with the help of the maid. I chose one of my favourite dresses for tonight. It was red with black details. It had longer sleeves that reached my elbow. The dress had a corset that, when laced, charmed my chest. It always went well with my hair down.

I brushed my hair one last time before leaving my chambers and making my way to King's.

The guards announced me and opened the heavy doors for me. As I took the first steps into the room, I felt sorrow and sadness spreading. The once brightly lit room was now grey and reeked of candles and incense. Grandsire's heavy breathing fills the silent room. I quietly walk over to the bed and carefully sit down on it, taking Grandsire's hand in mine.

"Rhaenyra, is that you?" He asked in confusion, panic gripping his poor mind.

"No, dear grandsire , it is I, Aemma. I have come from Dragonstone to pay you a visit." Talking to him like that felt bitter sweet.

"Aemma, you have come back. It has been so long. Why did you leave me, Aemma?" Sadness in his voice.

When he calls my name for the second time, I sense that he is not asking me, but his dear late wife, with whom I share my name.

"Yes, Your Grace, it has been a long time. But I am here now." I gently caress his hand and bend down to kiss his cheek before leaving his chambers.

With a heavy heart, I make my way to the dining hall where we were all to have dinner. As I walk through the corridors, my dress ruffles against my legs and drags on the floor. It was not long before I turned around and stood in front of the doors of the chamber. The guards opened the door for me and I entered. It was the same place where I had received my scar, which gave me a queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. When I catch sight of my parents, I walk towards them.

And just like the years before, I sit on the same chair, watch the same people and surprisingly eat the same food. I guess some things have not changed.

"Did you visit your grandsire?" My mother asks, as I take my seat.

"I did." I let out a sad sigh. My father puts his hand on mine and squeezes it, assuring me that everything will be all right.

"We should pray before we eat." Says the Queen, looking around the table to see if anyone agrees. No one said anything, but she carried on anyway.

"May the Mother look down on this gathering with love. May the blacksmith mend the bonds that have been broken for too long. And Vaemond Velaryon, may the gods grant him rest." The Queen opens her eyes and indicates that we should eat.

I try to enjoy my meal when Aegon decides to speak between Jace and Baela, which makes me sit up and listen which was not the best idea. After his little remark, Jace stands up and all attention is on him. Before he can say anything, Aemond stands up and gets my attention. He is standing up for Aegon, how convenient.

To make matters even funnier, I decide to stand up as well. Aemond stares at me from across the table before sitting back down. I just look at him through my eyelashes, head held high, and then sit down again.

Jace gives his speech, choosing his words carefully, which makes me laugh. After Jace came Haelena, who congratulated Jace, Luke, Baela and Rhaena on their betrothal. She then made a little remark on behalf of Aegon that made me and my father laugh.

So far, I'm actually having a good time. Our family dinners have never gone smoothly, but maybe this time it'll be better. Jace and Healena are dancing, Luke and Rhaena are laughing, everyone is happy for once. But when I look up, I already see one eye looking intently at me. I raise my eyebrows in confusion, wondering why he's staring at me like that, but he doesn't move.

He looks like a statue, sitting so perfectly and not even blinking. Our contact is interrupted by a maids placement of a roasted pig. I can already hear Luke's laughter next to me. When I look at Aemond, his whole mood changes and he slamms his fist on the table, startling me.

"Final tribute to the health of my nephews. Each of them handsome, wise, ...." Begins Aemond as he raises his glass.

"Mmm. Strong. Come, let us drain our cups to these three strong boys." He says, while exaggerating the word "strong".

"I dare you to say that again!" Speaks up Jace.

"Why? It was only a compliment. Do you not think yourself strong?" And in seconds, Jace strides towards Aemond while swinging his hand and punching him. I'm surprised that Aemond didn't even move, but I see that Aegon is getting closer to Luke, so I stand up, push Luke behind me, and grab the closest cutlery knife and hold it to Aegon's throat. Everyone silent.

"I dare you to lay so much as a finger on him, and you'll see what happens!" I grit my teeth and advance the knife slightly.

"Aemma, let go of the knife." Says my mother as she carefully walks towards me.

"You deserve to pay for what you did to me, you worthless cunt, only taking up space and air from this world!" I spit and stand firm.

"Yes, Aemma, let go of the knife." Aegon scoffs.

I watch Aemond move closer behind him.

"Who knows what'll happen, maybe you'll end up with another scar. And I'm sure you don't want that, as it seems you're already hard to want. Even your bastard brothers are betrothed before you, an heir to the throne!" He spits out his last words, igniting a fire in my chest.

"Aegon, that is enough!" The queen shouts.

"Aemma, let go." Aemond's soft voice breaks my trance and I look at him.

"Why are you defending him? I thought you were after the throne. Wouldn't it be easier if I got rid of him now?" I ask him as my voice bounces off the stone walls.

"Aemma." I huff out and give in, but before I drop the knife, I nick Aegon's skin just enough to make it bleed a little and make him wince in pain.

I break eye contact with Aegon and turn my gaze to Aemond. I walk over to him, still holding the knife. Before anyone can think that I'm about to attack him, I ram the knife into his chest.

"I was willing to kill him for you and you'd rather protect him. You're even less of a man than he's." I whisper to him, not wanting others to hear. I take a step away from him and glare at him before leaving the chambers.

I've never felt so alive. As soon as I leave the chambers, tears run down my cheeks. I didn't know I could feel so many emotions at once. I'm angry at Aegon and his hurtful words, but I'm even angrier at Aemond for standing up for him. I felt all along that he was my person despite our family problems. Before I enter my chambers, I order the guards to send a maid upstairs with a pitcher of wine, then I go into my chamber and immediately take off my shoes.

It wasn't only this evening that stirred up all the emotions in me, but also the situations that led up till this evening, and the familiar scene with Aegon only drove me more insane. Even after Aegon scared me, I tried to make excuses for him, but the way he wanted to hurt Luke sparked something inside me.

While I'm trying to untie my corset, someone knocks on the door, the guards open and a maid holds a tray in her hands.

"Where shall I place this, my princess?" She asks politely, but that only annoyed me.

"Put it on the table!" I snap. She hastily puts it down and as she's about to leave, I call out to her.

"Wait. I need help with my dress." I say, getting tangled in my dress. She comes over to me and carefully unties the ribbons of the corset and loosens them. When she's done, she bows and leaves the chambers.

I go over to the table and pour myself a full glass of wine, drink it to the bottom, pour myself another and repeat the whole thing until the pitcher is half empty. The glass with some wine in my hand as I try to walk to my bed. My low alcohol tolerance has taken quite a toll on me. I let out a sigh as I sit down on my bed. Just as I am about to drink the last drops of wine, someone knocks on the door. At this godly hour. When I say nothing, there is another knock.

"Come." I try to shout, but it barely leaves my mouth as I struggle to keep my composure. I look towards the door and see a slim figure enter. He observes the room and then his eye falls on me. The dress I was wearing lays scattered on the floor where I had left it, my shoes each on opposite sides of the room and a red wine stain on the embroidered white tablecloth where the pitcher stood, the glass in my hand. My face was red from dried, salty tears.

"Aemma..." He began, his voice soft. I walk over to the table and set the glass down on it. I walk towards the fireplace, expecting him to leave as I turn my back to him

"Aemma, I am sorry about what happened at dinner, but he's my brother." He says as he walks towards me. He wraps his hands around my waist and slowly lets out a breath on my skin that sends a shiver down my spine.

He lowers his head and gently places his lips on my neck. I let out a breathed sigh and lean against him. His trail of hot and wet kisses on my neck wakes me from the trance he has put me in.

"No Aemond!" I cry out as I push him off me.

"You made a fool of me, a fool because I thought you would not stand by Aegon, and then you come here expecting forgiveness!" I run my hand through my hair and pour myself another glass of wine.

"You have had enough." He says. I pour the wine, turn to him and drink it all. A few drops of wine still stick to my lips as I lick the remains and as I look at him, I throw the glass. The glass falls next to where he was standing and shatters into pieces.

"Where were you all when Aegon drank his conscience away and came at me with the knife. And I never asked him to apologise, but watching you two try to hurt my brothers is just a low way to get what you want, and you of all people, Aemond, should know that." I say calmly, which surprises him, as I was shouting just a few seconds ago. I walk over to him and lift my head to look at him.

"You broke me, Aemond. You and Aegon broke me. Aegon broke me physically when he left me with this scar. I can not look at anyone anymore without thinking if they think I am beautiful or if they are staring at this disgusting scar on my face. It took me so long to accept myself again. But you Aemond, you broke me emotionally. You were my person, we were supposed to be the end game. You were the only person I could talk to, share my problems with and you would understand because we had the same struggles and scars. But when you stepped next to Aegon tonight, you became someone I did not recognise." I say as tears cloud my vision.

He slowly raises his hands to my face to cup it as his thumbs wipe away the tears that have fallen. It takes all my strength to push him away from me, but at that moment I am weak. He notices my condition and gently presses me against him and embraces me. I lean my head against his chest as I listen to his heartbeat. Tears are still streaming down my face. He lays his head on mine and we just stand there in the silent room, only the fire crackling.

I feel myself getting sleepy and my legs give way as I tighten my grip around Aemond's waist. He senses my tiredness as he slowly lifts me up and I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist and he walks over to the bed. He sets me down and pulls the sheets over me. Surprisingly, he lowers his head and gives me a kiss on the top of my head and as he turns to leave, I grab his hand.

"Will you stay with me?" I ask, not sure of his answer. He turns fully to face me and I see his lips twist into a small smile.

"Always." His voice sounds soft. Then he moves to the other side of the bed, taking off his boots and jacket. He is now wearing only leather trousers and a white loose shirt, and his hair falls loosely over his shoulders. But before he lies down, he takes a deep breath and slowly reaches out to touch his face.

"You do not have to take it off if you feel uncomfortable." I say as I sense what he is about to do. He looks at me with a strange emotion in his eyes and to my surprise he takes off the leather eye patch revealing his shimmering blue sapphire eye. He places the eye patch on the table beside the bed and carefully climbs onto the bed. As he lies down, I turn to him and he turns to me. Carefully I lift my hand and stroke his face with it. I have never seen his eye before. I always liked the way his scar looked, but now it looked even more beautiful.

"It is beautiful." I exhale, unaware that he has heard me. He smiles just a little and closes his eyes as I glide my fingers over the scar.

"I believe only you think so, my princess." He says and takes my hand in his and moves it away from his face. Normally I would take that as a sign that my hand is bothering him, but instead he brings it to his lips, just like the first day I came here, and gently kisses my palm and knuckles, sending a shiver down my spine. Maybe it's still the wine coursing through my veins, but I use my other hand to pull myself upright and swing my leg over his waist, he straightens up and leans back against the bed frame.

I place both my hands on his face and caress his soft cheeks. I lean forward inches from his face, look into his eyes and see his gaze fall on my lips, I exhale and kiss him softly. I lean my body against his as he holds onto my waist and gently pulls at the silky fabric of my nightgown. His lips were soft and warm. It felt like a dream. Aemond caresses my face and deepens the kiss as I tangle my hands in his hair and pull at the hair tie holding his hair up. He breaks the kiss and we both catch our breath.

"Why did you stop?" I say as I tilt my head in confidence. My hands travel down and up his chest to unbutton his shirt. With each button, I look into his eyes and slowly let my fingers slide over his bare skin. Slight shivers ran through his body as the first button came undone. His breath caught every time I went deeper. Before I could open the last button, he held my hands tightly, leaving me in anticipation. He takes a minute before reconnecting our lips, placing his hand on my lower back and turning us around on the bed. He places my hands over my head and travels down my neck. A slight moan escapes my lips.

He pushes my nightgown up, leaving my legs free as he runs his fingers over them. Aemond lets his hands wander wherever they want, touching the most sensitive spots. As he spreads my legs, he positions himself in the space between them. His lips are on my neck again and he sinks his teeth in slightly so he can hear more of those sweet rattles he craves. I tangle my hands in his hair and pull him to my face to reconnect our lips. Aemond rips open the rest of the nightgown that covered my chest so quickly that I cry out in surprise.

"That was my favourite dress!" I exclaim as the loose strands of the torn dress hang loosely down my body. He kisses me more intensely as he pulls away.

"I'll bring you ten more." He says as he leans on his knees and takes off his white shirt, exposing his chest. He also discards his leather trousers and brings his body to me. Aemond carefully grabs the shreds of my dress as he looks at me before just tossing them away. As I place my hands on his back, I feel his skin grow hot under my fingertips.

"You are so beautiful my princess" He says in a soft and gentle voice. He leans forward and presses his lips to mine again as I feel a sensation between my legs and dig my nails into his skin. He moves our bodies slowly and in unison. His soft moans and breaths make me dizzy with pleasure.

I pull my legs up and wrap them around his waist, pressing him into me. I arch my back as I feel myself getting closer to him and tighten my legs, making him moan into me and bury his head in my neck. He rocks our bodies back and forth a few more times until we both reach our high.

We lie next to each other gasping for air, drenched in sweat and with hair on our foreheads, only a single sheet covering our naked bodies. I move closer to Aemond and rest my head on his chest. He puts his hand around me and rests it on my back. I listen to his breathing and his heartbeat and feel my eyes grow heavy as sleep takes possession of me.

[mumblingviking-blog]

Short: Inventing Siege Fireball

A man's three dimensional thinking combined with a skill or his nature as a caustic beast, carves out an unreasonably large model for fire magic. The magic's surface area determines the intentions and on such a scale no living being had the potential of execution even with this crutch. The man is chased to the caldera of a mountain spring, a dent like mount fuji, but singular and certainly not at the peak. A reverse frack. Magic fracking, that's not an anime idea I've seen yet. Oh wait, that's final fantasy's worldbuilding cardinal sin after Sephiroth came down.

The exposed and pooling magical liquid magic fantasy bullshit you want to name it, water in a magical place or otherwise an ambiguous liquid. It's valuable because it does stuff in artifacts that are essential to everyday use, it's literally oil. People don't have to deforest and the dryad population can declare peace between the two people, even if the relationship has become humans fawning over the dryad groves and ways. It's pathetic and if you can't have fun you should be trying and failing. Fawning is just the failure to engage and is pathetic and you're dumb.

The materials that are no longer needed in the workplaces has been gathered to repair the gear, trimming a bit from each piece of leather and leaving that with the church of health and forgiveness. If everything you had was lost in tragic accident, even your life ends. You need help. The church reported to the duke, who requested to take action from the kingdom's council. It was a jury of peers, the dukes of the dire lands. The man shows up at the church and pretends to be a town recluse whose equipment was designed for traversing the battlefield of an earth magic.

There is a land where no one lives comfortably at night even after surviving. Think the trenches of Arkfallen and the endless tides of remorse. No one lives in the ruins of that battle, it's just a bad idea. There is a small depression outside the clearing that was used to push waves of topsoil and ten other types of rock, all in rows of roughly cracked stone. It's low enough you only risk slipping in the rain but never flat. There is a magic pool that had been exposed there, the man is going there with his teaching tool for the true siege fireball structure of magic.

The battle was instigated when an unnamed group of men interfered with safeties and without communication they sent nine trains to their deaths. A tragedy led to a group of earth mages working in unison to bury the house of the man and all of his 'favored'. A landlord anarchist, now terrorist. The man brought his entire neighborhood, part farmland and part paradise, into a landslide that had happened to stone. An avalanche that rolls up the mountain and churned the area to nothing more that the now 'native' fauna. The trenches of Arkfallen formed from the removal of ten spans deep.

The were roughly parallel but the evidence of individuals in action served as a rekindling of suspicion to the Duke of their power in tandem. The thirty seven men shared an ideology that guided them in purpose, that wasn't the thought in the Duke's mind. The practiced hand could repeat. These earth mages were miners that travelled from land to land robbing the earth of metal ores, now proven when a knight paid for dinner in silver only to receive copper in the same denomination. The knight slew three earth mages and died clenching two silver and one copper. They had trusted.

After executing all but fifteen men for their actions, now investigated by the knights and auditors of the land. Taxes came due and heads rolled. That fifteen brought the knights to fifteen stashes, concentrated wealth for only their people. One for every head. They were given robes of thorns by the church of healing and forgiveness, identical and grown from a fragment of an artistic sadist's masterwork. Tailored in her window to skeletons. A spell from the church and the stripped men would make the clipping of the robes grow to surround and bind into the men. The vines touched bone.

Greed can be found everywhere but no one spread rumors of earth magicians carrying wealth. They were far to dangerous to invoke, akin to gods on earth.

[its-deputy-caleb]

How would the Lord’s be with a s/o who’s short like 5’0 but they’re super sweet but can be feisty

Heyy so i’ve been sick recently so this may not be as good as always and it’s a little rushed but i hope it’s not too bad! but this was still always enjoyable to write as always! enjoy

Alcina Dimitrescu

Alcina is lecturing one of the maidens for leaving one of the windows open when she feels something tapping on her leg.

Her eyebrow raises when she finds you tugging on the fabric of her dress, your hands covered in blood.

She picks you up by the back of your shirt as you give her the brightest but cheekiest smile.

“Now what have you been up to in these castle walls that has led you to put blood all over my dress.”

Your legs dangle in the air as you explain that you’ve spend the last four hours running around in the cellars and dungeons trying to find hidden trinkets. You didn’t anticipate to run into an array of grim reaper type creatures but you never turned down a challenge.

“My my, it seems you have been busy.”

Alcina throws you over her shoulder and carries you into her private quarters before she practically dumps you in the bath that swallows you.

“You, my dear are not coming to dinner looking like that.”

She’s seated on the edge of the tub, gloves removed as she rubs her expensive rose scented shampoo in your hair. For a moment it’s quite peaceful.

You’re ever the troublemaker and considering Alcina’s dress was already dirty you couldn’t help but splash water on her.

She grasps but plays into your cheeky ways and splashes you back just as playfully until you’re both soapy and covered in water.

You both dress for dinner with Alcina insisting you wear some of your more finer clothes but you still manage to pull some buttons loose here and there.

Although you’re a wild one, bouncing down the hallway and nearly knocking over one of Alcina’s fine porcelain vases, you still take her hand in yours and walk proudly into the dinner room with your lady.

You take your place at the dining table next to Alcina, your chair significantly higher to sit comfortably but she definitely pampered you with some of the finest cushions to boost you up.

Still you can’t help but feel happy and full of joy to see your family and that only lifts your mood further.

Donna Beneviento

Donna walks into the lounge room to find you chasing angie around, trying to get to her from behind the couch.

“You’ll never take me alive!!”

You’re just as crazy and rambunctious as Angie, the two of you instantly getting along. Donna smiles when she finds that Angie finally found a friend and she’s thrilled that Angie is taken with you.

“Will you two calm down before you break something!”

The two of you stop to stare at Donna who is holding a porcelain doll in her hands to stop it from being broken as you practically jump around the room.

But somehow through all your wildness you have a soft spot for Donna. Slowing your movements and walking up to her, you wrap your arms around her neck and hide your head under her chin.

“I’m sorry Dons, will you come exploring with Angie and I in the mountains??”

With you and Angie on either side of Donna, the three of you spend your afternoon exploring the caves near the waterfall.

Jumping over pools of rocks and mini cliffs, you always go first holding your hand out to Donna each time so she can hold onto while she jumps.

You’re always there to catch her too. It’s a little hard when you’re smaller than her but you’d never let her fall.

Eventually you come to an opening in one of the caves. The view is spectacular, with the waterfall cascading down and catching the fading light beautifully.

Your hand is in Donna’s gently rubbing your thumb on the back of her hand. However in a split second Angie comes up and surprises her with a loud BOO.

Donna’s surprised shriek rings in the cave she thinks she’s going to fall from the height of the cave, Angie’s creepy laughter eventually drowns it out.

You wrap your arms around her, keeping a calm but gentle hand on the back of her head to steady her.

“It’s alright, I gotcha now”

You hug Donna tightly, death glaring Angie behind her shoulder. When you pull away, you take Donna’s face and cradle it gently in your hands.

“Common, lets go home I could do with a nice warm cup of tea to go with a good book.”

Even though Donna was less adventurous as you were, she always enjoyed running around with you and Angie but you always spoiled her afterwards with a warm night in under blankets and warm tea while you read to her.

Salvatore Moreau

Salvatore was walking around the windmill trying to find you when he’s interrupted by a rather loud noise.

“HEY SAL GUESS WHO’S FINALLY TALLER THAN U??”

He audibly grasps when he sees you sitting on the wooden sail of windmill, smiling down on him.

You jump down and land in front of him, giggling at the small scream that leaves him. Stepping forward and into his space you place a kiss on his cheek.

“It’s me!!”

You take Salvatore’s hand in your own and lead him to explore all the nooks and crannies of the windmill with him.

Eventually you run off from him and hide behind one of the wooden crates stacked in the corner.

Poor Salvatore is confused by where you’ve gone trying to find you frantically as he runs around looking for you. You had the advantage however, being small had its perks sometimes.

When he’s not looking you run up and jump him from behind, your hands wrapping around his neck as you cling to him.

His laugh bounces off the valley and he spins around with you in a piggyback. One of your favourite things is making him laugh.

You spend the next few hours playing what is basically hide and seek as you run around all through the windmills, reservoir and mines doing your best to stay clear of any lycans.

You’re a wild card in Salvatore’s otherwise quiet life, but he loves you nonetheless. But you don’t miss the way his hand clings to yours in a death grip.

However, sometimes you’re a little too wild for his comfort zone and he definitely refused to do the zip line with you. But he cheered for you from his place on the ground because he never wants you to change the way you are. To him, you’re perfect.

Karl Heisenberg

Karl is always used to strange noises and loud bangs within the factory, but after living there for as long as he had; he can always tell when somethings out of place.

A rather large crash rings throughout the halls of the factory and Karl begrudgingly puts out his cigar, hoping that one of the Soldats hadn’t broken any of his equipment.

When he walks into a smelting room he finds you on the floor with metal boxes all over you and you buried under the toppled over shelf.

Karl flicks his wrist and all the metal moves to the corner of the room to reveal you huffing your hair out of your face.

You were looking for a mould to craft a new dagger with, sorting through the assortment of boxes when it all came falling down on top of you.

Karl moves his wrist once more, moving the mould you were looking for to his hand, a smug look on his face. He knew. For the last few weeks he’d seen you eyeing out that mould when you came to sit with him while he worked.

“Looking for something?”

You stand to your feet and try to snatch it out of his hand. Karl sees you coming from a mile away and holds it above your head, he doesn’t even need to use his powers for this one, his arm will do just fine.

He’s cocky and can’t help but torment the thing over your head like a child but in an instant you have him tackled to the ground. Now that one he didn’t see coming.

“Don’t think for a moment Heisenberg that just because I’m small that i couldn’t totally kick your ass if i needed to.”

Now you’re the one to be cocky as Karl stares in awe up at you, it took a lot of strength and maybe a hint of luck to bring down someone as powerful as him.

Eventually you let him up from his kindly uncomfortable position on the floor, his back strained against the metal grates. You totally don’t threaten to throw him at Alcina’s doorstep if he doesn’t make that new dagger for you.

Karl loved that about you, how feisty and wild you could be. It meant you were a great training partner and both of you either trained together often. Being small had its too. One thing Karl lacked was finesse and you were much more agile and skilled in your movements.

Other times you’d help Karl out in the factory by lifting boxes of scrap metal or even welding some of the weapons. He absolutely loved that about you, how he could easily be comfortable with you and his heart swelled when he could teach you all that he knew about metal. For the first time in a long time it felt like someone was on his side.

One day Karl saw you take a Soldat out with your new dagger and to say that it didn’t scare the shit out of him would be a fucking lie. Soldats were taller than him for christ sake.

Karl loved you though. He loved how fierce you were but you had the heart of gold and to him, you were this perfect little being that made his heart beat twice as fast when he was with you.

He loved that you could hold your own and would stand up to anyone but in the closed doors of the factory he got to see a softer more tender side of you filled with tender kisses and tight hugs.