#I've been waiting a long time for this part :)

[myth1cs]

Bratty (Shin Ryujin & Hwang Yeji x M!Reader)

Part 2 of Troublemaker (Both of these are smut!! Sorry!!!) Y/N is a brat and Ryujin degrades him (Again) to teach him a lesson Word Count: 2,617

As my eighth period class was about to end the professor suddenly made an announcement to the class.

"Before you all leave I wanted to let you all know that you have the option to work with a partner for this assignment."

When he said that I turned to Yeji.

"Hey, want to work on the assignment together?"

"Yeah sure, what's your phone number?"

After we exchanged phone numbers we went our separate ways. I didn't get far as I suddenly felt someone grab my arm and pull me into an empty classroom.

"What was that Y/N?"

"Ryujin? What are you doing?"

"Don't deflect, now tell me what I just saw."

"I was just getting Yeji's phone number."

"For what Y/N? Are you going over to her house?"

"Yes but only-"

Ryujin cut me off and lightly smacked my cheek. She glared at me with eyes that felt like they would pierce my soul.

"Don't go over to her house."

"Why?"

"Don't act dumb Y/N I know what you plan on doing. You're going to shove your face in between her thighs while your over at her house."

"What, No Ryujin I wont't!"

"Yeah sure, Look Y/N you can listen to me or not. But I warn you that if you disobey me you'll pay for it."

Ryujn left and I was alone in the empty classroom.

I felt excitement as I knew my plan was working.

I always wanted Ryujin to be more dominant and degrade me harder so I had started to ignore her and started to act less excited when having sex with her which I guess is why shes been more possessive over me. She might feel like she's doing something wrong which is probably why she thinks I might be looking for other people.

At Yeji's House

I knocked on the door and waited for a response.

After waiting for a few seconds Yeji opened the door for me.

"Hi Y/N are you ready to start working?"

"Sure am Yeji."

Yeji led me to her room and we started working on the assignment. I took this moment and took a photo of Yeji and sent it to Ryujin.

After a few seconds Ryujin sent me a message but I didn't answer her. Ryujin must've not liked me ignoring her messages as my phone started vibrating constantly but I didn't pay attention to it.

"Y/N is that your phone?"

"Yeah why?"

"I think someone's trying to reach you. It sounds important."

"Don't worry about it Yeji."

I went and put me phone on silent.

"Y/N seriously I think it's important. Why would someone message you so much if it wasn't?"

"No it was just a spam message."

"Oh really? Ugh I hate those."

I started wondering about my next move. But I decided upon something I knew would get Ryujin worked up.

"Hey Yeji I know this is a weird time but would you be my girlfriend?"

"Y/N ... where is this coming from?"

"You, your everything Yeji and I want to be able to have you by my side. So will you be mine?"

"Listen Y/N you're a sweet person now and I'll admit you're kinda cute but I can't just look past everything you've done in the past."

"Yeji I swear I've been working on myself. Please give me this one chance."

Yeji sighed and looked at me. I put my hand over hers and gave it a light squeeze.

"Okay fine Y/N I'll give us a shot."

I kissed Yeji and pulled her into a hug.

"Do you want to take a picture to celebrate us Yeji?"

"Yeah sure let's do it."

I took my phone out and took a picture. After I took it I made sure I sent it to Ryujin. She is so going to kill me but I can't wait for it.

"Let's go back to our work Y/N."

Next Day

As I was heading to my eighth period class I got another text from Ryujin.

Ryujin: "Come to my room NOW"

Ryujin: "You little brat stop ignoring me!"

Ryujin: "Y/N I swear you better not have shoved your face in between Yeji's thighs yesterday!"

I kept ignoring her texts and continued on my way.

When I got into eighth period I sat down but not for long as suddenly the principals voice came over the speakers.

"Y/N make your way to room 304."

"Y/N I thought you said you would work on bettering yourself." Yeji said with a disappointed tone.

"Oh no it's not that Yeji I swear, let me prove it, follow me when I leave and Ryujin will tell you."

I walked out of the classroom and waited. I overheard Yeji ask to use the restroom and she came out of the classroom shortly after.

"Glad you decided to follow me."

I led Yeji to Ryujin's room and we both went inside together.

When we walked in Ryujin started speaking and she sounded pissed off "Y/N you little-"

Ryujin looked shocked when she saw Yeji by my side. She probably only expected me to come.

Ryujin quickly cleared her throat "What brings you here with your friend Y/N?"

"Actually she's my girlfriend."

I could see Ryujin was struggling to keep her smile up "Well that's nice to know."

"So why did you call Y/N here anyways?" Yeji asked.

"I just wanted to tell him I was so proud of him. He hasn't been written up and his grades are improving at a rapid rate."

"Thank you Ryujin that means a lot coming from you." I smiled at Ryujin when I said that and I could tell she wanted to have her way with me.

"Come on Yeji let's go back."

After School

As I was walking home I got another text from Ryujin

Ryujin: "Come over to my house. I'll rehabilitate you and knock that bratty behavior out of you."

I knew I had Ryujin where I wanted her so I made my way over to her house. When I arrived I went ahead and knocked on the door. No one opened and I was about to knock again but then I got another text from Ryujin.

Ryujin:"It's unlocked, come upstairs to my room."

I opened the door and made my way to Ryujin's room.

"Hello?"

"Come in!"

When I opened the door Ryujin quickly shoved me into a wall.

"Y/N you better have a damn good explanation for yourself!"

I started giggling and tried to kiss her but Ryujin smacked me.

"I don't want your filthy mouth touching my perfect face. Now tell me what the fuck you've been doing. Was I just a sex toy for you? Do you think you can do better than me?!"

"Ryujin I just wanted you to degrade me more that's all. You're perfect I would never replace you for Yeji."

Ryujin started laughing and looked at me with eyes that I was too familiar with.

"So you want to play that game huh Y/N? Well I'll show you what happens to brats like you."

Ryujin stripped naked and shoved me to the bed.

"I thought you said you were only my slut but it turns out you lied to me. And you should know that I hate liars Y/N."

"W-wait! Ryujin what are you doing!"

Ryujin grabbed a rope she had lying on the floor. She started to tie my hands to the bed frame preventing me from moving.

"Okay Ryujin I get it I won't be a brat anymore!"

"Well that's no fun is it Y/N?"

Ryujin pulled my pants down and my erected cock sprung out. Ryujin spat on it and started to pump it.

"Y/N look at your filthy cock. It's so sad you get turned on so easily. You're nothing but a sad degenerate."

Ryujin put the tip of my cock inside her mouth. She put her tongue all over it and I felt myself about to cum. My cock was twitching inside her mouth but she pulled out before I could cum.

"No. no, no Ryujin please let me cum!"

"Pathetic, My personal slut is nothing but a sex addict. What if I just leave you like this Y/N? Leave you needy all day long. My parents don't come back until tomorrow afternoon so I have plenty of time to toy with my favorite boy toy."

Ryujin sat on me just barely away from my cock. She straddled me and I couldn't help but get even harder from having her weight on me. She startled to lift my shirt and drew patterns on my chest.

"What to do with you Y/N I have so many options. What will take the brat out of you?"

I saw a sparkly in her eyes. This couldn't be good.

Ryujin got off me and went grabbed my pants. She pulled my phone out and took pictures of me.

"No don't it's embarrassing!" But my plea went unheard.

Ryujin started texting someone and looked at me with a smile that felt deadly.

"No! I know who you just texted please delete that message before she sees it!"

"Shh relax boy toy. I promise you'll enjoy what happens next."

Ryujin grabbed her breasts and put my cock in between them. She started to rub them on my cock.

I started moaning. Her breasts were so soft and squishy I wanted to cum all over them.

"Oh you like these? They're just a pair of breasts Y/N they're nothing special. Are you that much of a loser that seeing a simple pair of breasts is enough to get you worked up?"

"Ryujin!"

I couldn't help but whine. Ryujin wasn't letting me cum I felt my balls aching and wanting releases but she kept denying me.

"Please Ryujin!"

"I don't know Y/N does a whore like you deserve it? Maybe if you beg for it I'll consider it."

"Ryujin Ryujin please let me cum! I promise I won't be a brat anymore!"

Ryujin laughed at me and licked the top of my cock.

"My my Y/N I didn't think you would go as low as to beg for it. You're acting like a kid begging his mom to buy him fast food."

"Mommy please!"

My face immediately turned red when I said that. Fuck I accidentally said that out loud now she's going to make fun of me for sure.

"Mommy? Am I your mother now Y/N? Do you want me to hold you lovingly and kiss you goodnight now?"

Ryujin rubbed circles on my thighs and I could do nothing but watch as she rejects my orgasm.

Suddenly I heard the door downstairs open.

"We're up here!" Ryujin yelled.

The footsteps got closer. I was worried Ryujin's parents came home early but then the person entered the room.

"Yeji?! It's not what it looks like!"

"Y/N what the fuck is going on!"

"Yeji isn't this beautiful. Look at Y/N pathetically tied to the bed. Want to show him what happens to brats?"

I looked at Yeji and saw that her eyes had changed.

I knew I only had a few moments before Yeji made up her mind "Ryujin that isn't necessary-" but I was too late.

"Yeah Ryujin I want to teach Y/N a lesson."

"Kiss me."

Yeji got on top of me and started to make out with Ryujin. It was horrible seeing them make out while my cock was still hard.

"Look at Y/N I bet he wishes his pathertic cock was in between our lips." Ryujin looked at me with a smirk as she said that.

Yeji started to suck on Ryujin's breasts eliciting moans from Ryujin. Some of Yeji's saliva fell onto the bed. She didn't stop there though she shoved three fingers inside of Ryujin without warning.

"Yeji damn it your so much better than Y/N's cock ever was!"

"Fuck you Ryujin you literally came all over my cock last time!"

"Did you hear something Ryujin?"

"No must've been the wind."

I was turned on by the sight of both of them making out but I wanted to cum. I was in a state of pain of feeling erected but I didn't have anyway to relieve it.

"Ryujin do you think we should let Y/N cum?"

"Ugh fine we can let our little toy cum."

Ryujin and Yeji got their hands off each other and turned to me. Yeji took off her clothes and let my cock enter her warm pussy while Ryujin sat on my face.

"Go on boy toy make us cum!" Ryujin ordered.

I started to lick Ryujin's pussy and quickly shoved my cock in and out of Yeji's. They both started to make out during this and their saliva was starting to drip onto me.

"Y/N you bastard. How dare you cheat on me with Ryujin. We haven't even been together for a whole week. But you can make up for it if you make me cum hard."

"Yeji I only did it to rile Ryujin up."

"So I was nothing but a tool for you Y/N? I'm going to make you cum so much until you don't have any cum left asshole."

-

The torture had gone on for hours at this point. I couldn't stop my cock from getting hard but I was extremely exhausted. I came so much yet somehow Yeji and Ryujin weren't getting slower.

"Y/N get your filthy cock hard again. You aren't done until I say so!"

"Please Yeji stop I can't take it!"

"Should have thought of that before you used her." Ryujin responded.

I licked Ryujin's pussy so much my tongue started to hurt. Eventually she finally came all over my face again.

"I'm done here Yeji you can take Y/N from here." Ryujin laid down next to me pulling me close. I felt her warm sweaty body press up against me and it turned me on again.

"So your cock does still have some life in it."

"Yeji please no more."

"One more Y/N or should I beat the living shit out of you for cheating on me?"

I groaned and continued to thrust into Yeji. My body felt like it was on fire and I was sweating profusely.

"Ah! Yes Y/N show me how much you love me!"

"Yeji my cock is so sore!"

After a few more thrusts we both came at the same time. Yeji collapsed on me afterwards.

"Yeji I'm sorry I used you."

"It's fine Y/N but you better continue to fuck me like this."

"I don't think I have any cum left in me Yeji you drained everything."

Yeji kissed me softly and we both fell asleep.

-

The next morning we all woke up and out nostrils were filled with the smell of sex.

"It smells like 20 people had sex in here." Ryujin exclaimed, still groggy after she woke up.

"Come on Y/N help me clean up the place loser."

"Why me? Yeji also had sex with us!"

"Well you're the one who used her. So the least you can do is clean up her mess."

I had no choice. I got up and started to help Ryujin with the cleaning.

"You know Y/N I can't let this slide. No sex for 2 weeks."

"What!?

"You said you'd change your behavior and yet you went right back to using people for your own gain."

Ryujin gave me a smug look and I couldn't do anything but continue cleaning her room.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

If you're wondering why it took so long to make part 2 it's because I had to rewrite this story 3 times. I'm so tired

Y/N gets degraded even more cause it's the only thing he deserves. I am never writing Y/N as dom.

[littleprinces]

Day 12: Age Gap

Haerin x Male Reader

Kinkvember Day 12

She was sitting alone at a quaint coffee shop in Greenwich Village, her eyes scanning the crowd as she sipped her latte. She was new to the city and hadn't made many friends yet. As she looked up from her book, her gaze met mine. I was a 40-year-old man with a lean, muscular build, and I couldn't help but be drawn to her youthful charm.

"Excuse me," I said, leaning over her table. "I couldn't help but notice your book. Are you enjoying it?"

She looked up at me, a slight smile playing on her lips. "Yes, it's a classic. Have you read it?"

I nodded. "Many times. It's one of my favorites."

We spent the next hour talking about literature, art, and the city. Haerin was intelligent and witty, and I found myself increasingly drawn to her. As we left the coffee shop together, I suggested we continue our conversation over dinner. She agreed, and we walked to a nearby restaurant.

Over dinner, our conversation turned more personal. I learned about her dreams and aspirations, and she asked about my experiences in the city. The chemistry between us was palpable, and as the night wore on, I found myself wanting her more and more.

"You know," I said, leaning closer to her across the table, "I've really enjoyed our conversation tonight. But I have to admit, I'm finding it hard to concentrate on anything but you."

She blushed slightly, her eyes flickering with a mix of surprise and excitement. "Is that so?"

I nodded. "Yes. In fact, I think I'd like to see you again. And not just for dinner."

She raised an eyebrow, a playful smile on her lips. "Oh, really? And what did you have in mind?"

I leaned in, my voice low and husky. "I think you know what I'm talking about, Haerin."

She held my gaze for a moment before her eyes flicked down to my lips. "I think I do," she whispered.

The following week, Haerin came over to my apartment. As soon as she walked in, I could see the desire in her eyes. I poured us some wine, and we sat on the couch, our bodies close but not yet touching.

"You're beautiful, Haerin," I said, my hand reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "I've been thinking about you all day long."

She leaned into my touch, her eyes never leaving mine. "I've been thinking about you too," she admitted.

I leaned in and captured her lips in a soft, gentle kiss. She responded eagerly, her lips parting to allow my tongue to explore her mouth. Our kiss deepened, becoming more passionate and intense.

I broke away from her lips and trailed kisses down her neck, feeling her pulse quicken under my touch. She moaned softly, her head falling back to give me better access. I nipped at her earlobe, making her gasp.

"You taste so good," I murmured, my hand sliding up her thigh. "I want to taste more of you."

She shivered at my words, her breath coming in short gasps. I unbuttoned her blouse slowly, revealing her smooth, creamy skin. I leaned down and captured one of her nipples in my mouth, swirling my tongue around it before sucking gently.

"Oh, God," she moaned, her hands tangling in my hair. "That feels so good."

I switched to her other nipple, giving it the same attention. Haerin's body was on fire, her hips moving restlessly against mine. I could feel her heat through her jeans, and I knew she was ready for more.

I unbuttoned her jeans and slipped a hand inside, finding her wet and ready. I stroked her slowly, my fingers exploring her folds. She gasped and bucked against my hand, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

"You're so wet," I murmured, my voice thick with desire. "I can't wait to taste you."

I slid my fingers out of her and brought them to my lips, sucking them clean. Her eyes widened at the sight, and I could see the desire in them. I pushed her back onto the couch and slid down her body, my hands gripping her hips.

I hooked my fingers into her jeans and panties and pulled them down, revealing her glistening pussy. I leaned in and ran my tongue along her slit, tasting her sweetness. She moaned and arched her hips, giving me better access.

I licked and sucked at her clit, my tongue swirling around it before flicking it lightly. Haerin's moans grew louder, her hands gripping the couch cushions. I slipped two fingers inside her, curling them up to hit her G-spot.

"Oh, God, yes," she cried out, her hips moving in time with my fingers. "Right there, don't stop."

I kept up the pressure, my fingers moving in and out of her while my tongue worked her clit. Her breath came in short gasps, her body tensing as she neared the edge.

"I'm close," she panted. "So close."

I increased the pressure, my fingers moving faster and harder. Haerin cried out, her body convulsing as she came. I lapped up her juices, savoring her taste.

I stood up and undressed quickly, my cock rock hard and ready. Haerin watched me, her eyes filled with desire. I climbed on top of her, my cock poised at her entrance.

"Are you ready for me?" I asked, my voice gruff with desire.

She nodded, her eyes locking onto mine. "Yes," she whispered. "I'm ready."

I pushed into her slowly, giving her time to adjust to my size. She was tight and wet, her pussy gripping my cock like a velvet glove. I groaned at the sensation, my hips moving slowly at first before picking up speed.

"You feel so good," I grunted, my hips moving faster. "So tight and wet."

Haerin wrapped her legs around my waist, her hips moving in time with mine. "Faster," she begged. "Harder."

I obliged, my hips slamming into hers as I fucked her hard and fast. The sound of our bodies slapping together filled the room, our moans and cries echoing off the walls.

"Oh, God, yes," Haerin cried out. "Right there, don't stop."

I could feel my orgasm building, my cock throbbing inside her. I reached between us and rubbed her clit, my fingers moving in time with my hips. Haerin's eyes rolled back, her body tensing as she came again.

"I'm going to come," I groaned, my body tensing as I pushed into her one last time. "I'm going to fill you with my cum."

I came with a roar, my body shaking as I filled her with my seed. I collapsed on top of her, our bodies slick with sweat. I rolled off of her and pulled her into my arms, our bodies still joined.

"That was incredible," she whispered, her fingers tracing patterns on my chest.

I smiled, my eyes closed. "It was," I agreed. "And I'm not done with you yet."

We spent the rest of the night exploring each other's bodies, our passion and desire never waning. As the sun rose, we lay entwined in each other's arms, our bodies sated and satisfied.

[lucysarah-c]

Mounting Spring Ch. 3

Summary: Paradis has opened its doors to the world, and the Rumbling has not yet occurred. The military board insists, "We need more Ackermans!" to avoid ruining Mikasa's life. Levi agrees. Arranged marriage, explicit consent, Omegaverse. Alpha! Levi x Omega! Y/N. Mentions of underage marriage but it doesn't happen, the reader is over 21.Age gap but they are both adults. (I would say enemys to lover but they don't even know eachother to be enemys lol.) Author note: I've had this idea for so long… Omegaverse is my guilty pleasure, and I decided to treat myself with it. From the creator of "Not in season?" I bring to you "Mounting Spring" lmao haha sorry it's just that my first omegaverse was rather a success… so I decided to do another. Masterlist to the previous parts! Ao3 link in case you prefer to read there!

The raindrops fell over the cobblestones, and, in particular, those falling from the gable were heavy against the small porch of the chapel where she waited. She breathed into her hands, seeking warmth as she tilted her head to the side. Now alone, she felt her curiosity begin to spark, like a cat finally let out of its carrier. 

The narrow side streets hinted at the town’s size and social standing, with only one main road that, incidentally, was the only paved one. She guessed that if the weather hadn’t been so dreary, she could have seen the end of it. Her more optimistic side blamed the weather, but the town struck her as dreadful. In the distance, her attention was drawn to the farmer who had been inside with them. 

He was talking to someone she assumed was his wife or another townsperson, with his horse beside him and a border collie patiently waiting against his leg. Eventually, both of them turned to look at her, and she stiffened under their scrutiny. 

‘Should I... wave at them? Don’t small towns know everyone? Should I start getting to know everyone?’ 

But as her mind filled with these thoughts, they turned back to talk to each other. She pressed her lips together, feeling time drag painfully. The coat over her head made her uneasy. Almost involuntarily, she took a few deep breaths, catching a faint scent in the air, and then another, more focused sniff. It felt like cheating somehow, though it wasn’t, as her nose itched from his scent, and her body seemed to process it more deeply. 

‘It’s deeper than Die...’ she thought melancholically. Perhaps it was because she hadn’t encountered many unmated alphas in her life, or at least hadn’t gotten close enough to catch their scent. ‘Well… isn’t he humanity’s strength? ...something like that. I guess it takes some strong genes to be called that.’ 

“All right.” Levi’s voice startled her, and she tensed, turning to see him. He was drenched from his search for horses but seemed to handle it with a calmness, like sheep who don’t mind the sky falling on them. His hand held the reins of two horses, and, if her mind hadn’t been elsewhere, she might have chuckled. 

The black horse was absurdly tall and elegant, while the other was a dirty white with grayish spots, shorter and with bulkier legs. 

“You can have the one I rented if you prefer,” Levi offered, handing her the reins. But she didn’t take them right away. 

“Um…” She hesitated. “Sorry. I’ve never ridden alone,” she explained. Then, feeling the need to clarify, she added, “I usually just take carts.” 

Levi quickly grasped the issue. After a brief consideration, he reached back and switched the reins. "Take mine," he said, extending the reins of the black mare instead. "She’s calm and obedient.”  Levi said, nodding toward the mare. “Scout-trained.”  

She looked at the tall, sleek horse in front of her, nerves clear on her face. He jerked his thumb at the other smaller, stocky white one. “This one, I don’t know.” 

Her hand tentatively moved forward to touch the mare’s nose. At her touch, the horse nudged forward, her dark eyes focused intently on her. The mare’s imposing size made her hesitate. “Can’t we just ride together?” 

Levi, double-checking the saddle, looked back and replied firmly, “No. Too much mud on the way. I don’t want to put extra weight on her.” 

When he finished adjusting the saddle, he held out his arm, gesturing for her to step closer. He gave her a once-over and instructed, “Take the cloak underneath. No point in wearing it now that it’s soaked.” 

‘Well… he does enjoy giving orders,’ she thought. 

Feeling self-conscious under his observant gaze, she removed his coat, then unfastened her cloak, which was heavy and sodden. Her cheeks flushed as she noticed the white dress beneath was now damp and clung uncomfortably. She quickly ran her hands over her arms, trying to cover up, but Levi moved smoothly, placing his coat back over her shoulders before tossing the soaked cloak over the mare’s back. 

She took her position beside the mare, gripping the saddle, though her uncertainty was plain. “But… with my dress and that saddle, it’ll be difficult to ride with my legs on the side.” 

“Ride with your legs apart.” 

She looked over her shoulder at him as he moved to help her up. Despite his short height, he hoisted her up smoothly onto the mare. She was perched high above him now, gripping the reins and feeling the unfamiliar weight of control. Levi stepped back and gave her a once-over, as though to make sure she was seated safely. 

“This isn’t very ladylike,” she murmured, her voice carrying a note of unease as the powerful animal shifted beneath her. 

Levi raised an eyebrow, still maintaining his stoic look but with a glint of dry humor breaking through. “Well,” he said, his voice calm and low, “I’m the husband now, and I don’t mind it.” 

But the silence that followed told him all he needed to know: she didn’t find it funny. 

“Just hold steady,” he advised, placing a hand on the mare’s neck in an almost fatherly pat. “She’s been through rougher trips than this.” 

The mare, as if responding to his touch, lowered her head, brushing her soft nose against his hair and disheveling it slightly, so that her dark fur mingled with his equally raven locks. 

With that, he took the reins and knotted them to the other horse and swung himself up with practiced ease, barely flinching at the wet leather. It struck her that he was completely in his element, as if he belonged here in this bleak weather and muddy roads, as if he barely noticed the discomfort. 

The rain pattered steadily, its soft murmur filling the quiet as Levi guided his horse through the thickening gloom of the forest. Her soaked white cloak hung limply from the horse’s saddle. The water on it was counterproductive to keep the warmth, so she took it off. The green trench coat pulled over her head helped more, but it was far from miraculous. Despite the rain, a thick fog was rising as they left the small countryside town and ventured deeper into the forest. Soon, the cobblestones ended, leaving the horses to trudge through thick mud. The road became nearly invisible just a few steps ahead, and she cast a nervous glance at the forest, which seemed to stretch on endlessly. 

“Captain… shouldn’t we wait? It’s getting dark, and it could be dangerous,” she murmured, eyeing the shifting shadows between the trees. 

Levi’s response was firm, almost cutting. “I told you to call me Levi, and don’t worry.” His tone was as sharp as his gaze ahead. She wasn’t convinced, her brows knitting together in silent protest. Y/N clung tightly to the saddle of the black mare Levi had called his own. His raven hair stuck to his forehead as the rain poured mercilessly on him without his trench coat. When she pressed again, “But—” he cut her off. 

“I wouldn’t do anything dangerous,” he declared, his tone allowing no debate. “If I say it’s safe, it’s safe. Understood?” 

She murmured a reluctant hum, clearly displeased, but he glanced back over his shoulder, eyes piercing. “I didn’t hear you.” 

She swallowed, muttering low, “Understood.” The word fell with barely concealed disdain, and under her breath, she added with a hint of defiance, “…sir.” 

‘He said it wasn’t that far...’ but as they continued, it became clear that the headquarters weren’t close by. 

Each step the horse took forward felt like moving deeper into an enclosure, further away from family and friends. Eventually, the rocky forest path opened onto the scouts' rustic facility—a large training field of neatly trimmed grass and a main building looming in the darkness, with smaller buildings in the back. She squinted, barely able to make them out through the thick fog but guessed they might be the barracks, possibly separated by gender. 

She thought they would stop at the main doors, but Levi guided the horses further. The place overwhelmed her—she didn’t know where to look, and the quietness, at least from the outside, only made her more curious. 

“Where is everyone?” she asked. 

Levi looked around the quiet training grounds. “It’s late. Most of the soldiers are in the mess hall for dinner or getting ready for curfew,” he explained, his eyes sweeping the area with practiced vigilance. “Especially in this shitty weather.” 

He dismounted near a back entrance, which seemed to be a service area littered with discarded training materials. When the horses stopped, she moved to dismount, glancing down to gauge the distance to the ground. 

“Need help?” he asked, already striding over with firm steps, his boots far better equipped for the weather than hers. He positioned himself behind her and said, “Let go, I got you.” 

With his hands under her arms, he lifted her down with surprising ease. She turned quickly to face him, but he just said, “Stay here. I’ll put the horses away.” before she could protest. 

Though Levi’s presence didn’t exactly warm the atmosphere, his absence made the cold settle in even deeper. She shifted uncomfortably, her gaze darting around hectic —taking in the swaying trees under t the gusting wind, the flashes of lightning splitting the clouds. While the rain had momentarily stopped on the way back, it was obvious it wasn’t over. The forest sounds felt ominous in the dark, with only dim light illuminating the semi-open area at the back of the building. 

‘I feel like a doe... in the middle of a meadow.’ 

Ignoring Levi’s instruction, she opened the door and stepped inside. She glanced down both ends of the corridor, where yellowish candlelight cast a warm glow. The hum of distant voices filled the air, and she wrinkled her nose in distaste. ‘It stinks.’ 

It reeked of alphas—too many of them. Down the corridor to her left, she saw two young women, a brunette and a dark-haired one, passing by. The brunette noticed her standing in the hallway and looked back with a puzzled expression. 

‘Alright, maybe this time I should actually introduce myself.’ 

She raised a hand slightly, giving a tentative wave, but the brunette turned, calling out to someone— 

“I thought I told you to stay there.” Levi’s voice cut in from behind, firm with a trace of irritation as he locked the back door. Without further comment, he led her up a nearby staircase, his movements swift and purposeful. 

“But—” she started to object, glancing to the side, but he was already nudging her forward. His hand hovered at her back, as if nudging her without physically touching her, more a mental command than a physical push. 

As they ascended the stairs, Sasha, a brunette at the far end of the corridor, tugged on Jean and Connie’s arms. “See, she’s there!” she exclaimed. But when the three of them looked down the hall, no one was there—only a trail of muddy footprints. 

“...She was there,” Sasha insisted. 

Jean shot her a skeptical look. “Sasha, are you that hungry you’re seeing things... again?” 

Sasha frowned, clearly annoyed. “I saw her! I might be hungry, but I’m not imagining things.” 

“Well, she’s not there now, that’s for sure,” Connie said, stretching his arms behind his head. “Maybe a ghost?” 

“A suicidal one,” Jean added dryly. “Only higher-ups use the back door. And if Captain Levi sees that mud, he’d probably drag out a Ouija board just to kick that ghost’s ass for dirtying his floors.” 

Sasha and Connie started to walk away, but Jean paused, wrinkling his nose and sniffing the air with a puzzled expression. “...I do smell something strange, though.” 

Sasha and Connie shrugged, both of them betas, unable to pick up on any scent. But Mikasa, overhearing, joined them, her dark eyes narrowing. “Jasmine, berries, and coconut milk.” 

Jean shot her a smirk. “Well, I did switch to a new cologne…” 

But Mikasa ignored him, already walking ahead with a thoughtful expression, leaving Jean to trail off, his attempt at humor forgotten. 

As they moved through the winding corridors, she struggled to keep pace. Levi’s stride was steady and brisk, his attention fixed forward, but after a few glances back, he seemed to notice her struggle. With a subtle sigh, he slowed his pace focusing on her feet to match her pace.  

As he did so, he couldn’t help but notice the trail of mud they were leaving behind. Each footprint was a smear of damp earth and grime on the clean floor. His jaw tightened, and he clicked his tongue in irritation. ‘Focus on the important shit,’ he reminded himself. 

Reaching the door to his chambers, he patted his trousers absently, then checked the pockets of his uniform jacket. His brow creased in mild annoyance before he remembered: ‘The keys are in my coat.’ 

He moved closer to her, his face showing a rare hint of apology. “Sorry,” he murmured, reaching into the pockets of the coat she wore. She held still as he fished around, finally pulling out the key with a subtle nod. 

Before turning the key in the lock, he looked down at her shoes, now caked in mud. 

“Wait,” he muttered, holding a hand up. He gestured to her shoes with a short nod. “Shoes off,” he instructed, bending to remove his own boots first, leaving them by the doorway. She followed suit, slipping off her mud-caked shoes, which felt heavier with every step. 

She hesitated, glancing at the mud-covered shoes, but then leaned against the wall to remove her shoes. He did the same, tugging off his own boots and setting them neatly to the side. Once they were both ready, he unlocked the door and pushed it open, holding it for her to step inside. 

To be honest, she couldn’t say she was disappointed—her journey to his office had shown her this wasn’t the marriage she’d imagined. She’d heard the Scouts were… humble people. ‘A sweet way to call them low class,’ she thought wryly, fiddling with her loose ring, trying to keep it from slipping off her finger. Part of her almost wished the room would stay dark so she wouldn’t have to face reality, while another part hoped for a glimmer of candlelight to surprise her for the better. 

Levi shut the door behind him with a subtle sigh, closing his eyes briefly, as if gathering strength from somewhere unknown. ‘One task down,’ he reminded himself, as if safely getting her to the Scout headquarters unnoticed was his toughest mission yet. He shrugged off his uniform jacket and hung it on the coat rack by the door. 

She stood, frozen in place, as he walked past her, lighting a few candles he’d set up earlier. He busied himself lighting more, methodically checking off tasks from his mental to-do list. “Why don’t you take a shower? The water should be warm,” he suggested. 

‘And... here it is,’ she thought, her pupils darting around the room as though afraid to turn her head, scanning the place as the light started to fill it. She tried to hide her discomfort, not so much from a lack of hygiene as from a lack of warmth. Catching his eyes on her, she forced a thin smile. “Very... modest.” 

‘…Empty and rustic, but the last thing I want to find out is what he’s like when he’s mad.’ 

The room had only two doors: one, she guessed, led to a small bathroom, and the other to the bedroom. The main space was an office with a single shelf filled with books and not much else. ‘Doesn’t he have paintings or decorations?’ She found herself searching for anything that might make the space feel less austere and more homely, something to give her a glimpse of who he was. The office seemed to be the most furnished part of the quarters, with a set of sofas, a coffee table by the fireplace, and a desk. The large arched window was probably his only indulgence, a feature suggesting he spent most of his time here. 

“Shower?” Levi insisted, “Don’t take it personally, but I’d like to shower too.” 

That snapped her out of her trance. “Oh—sure,” in a small voice. “Um... where did you put my luggage?” 

Levi’s brow furrowed, and after a moment, he realized he hadn’t noticed her lack of belongings. “Was I supposed to have it?” he replied, answering her question with another—not a habit of his. 

“I sent it ahead, two days ago,” she explained, “They told me it would be best.” 

His eyes flicked to the window and the rain still pouring down outside. ‘Well… I think it’s pretty clear why that didn’t arrive yet.’ 

With a weary sigh, Levi leaned against his desk, one hand running over his damp hair. He looked worn out, both physically and emotionally. “This is a rural area,” he said, “and with this rain, it could take a few more days. A cart wouldn’t make it through the forest right now.” 

Levi stepped over to his bedroom, opened a few drawers, and, without moving from her spot, she couldn’t resist sneaking a look. She leaned forward, trying to get a glimpse over the door frame. 

She couldn’t see much, but curiosity stretched her mouth open as she craned her neck. A chest of drawers held neatly folded clothes, a couple of books stacked on top, and a wardrobe nearby had boxes on top that reached the ceiling (probably he used it as storage) with boots lined up beneath it. There was a standing mirror in one corner and she could only see the wood footboard of a small bed against the wall. 

“Here, you can—” Levi turned back toward her, catching her in the act of peeking. She straightened up quickly, feigning innocence. He raised an eyebrow at her obvious interest. “It’s not as if it’s off-limits. Walk in if you want.” 

‘Like a dog caught digging through the trash,’ he thought, mildly amused by her guilty expression. 

“Anyway, here.” He handed her some clothes. “The rest is in the bathroom.” 

She took them with a distracted nod, disappearing behind the bathroom door. 

“Ah...” He let out a deep breath he didn’t know he was holding as he let himself collapse, boneless, into his desk chair. His hair was soaked, as was the rest of him, but he didn’t care. “A moment of silence.” 

Though she hadn’t said much, her silence was somehow louder than any words. Covering his eyes with his forearm, he felt drained—he’d been through expeditions to retake Wall Maria, yet this felt just as exhausting. But as always, Levi quickly pushed himself back up, pressing the bridge of his nose to calm the headache beginning to throb behind his eyes, and moved on. 

“I don’t have time to slack off,” he grunted to himself. He didn’t have much firewood left—it had been an unusually warm spring until today, and firewood was a luxury he was used to being frugal with, like nearly everything else in his life. 

'She should probably dry her hair before bed,' he thought, setting a kettle of water on in case she wanted tea. He considered making himself a cup but, as “going to bed” crossed his mind, the idea shifted to the liquor he had stashed in a cabinet. He poured himself a small glass, not intending to get drunk, but needing something that soothed him better than his usual caffeine. 

The fire began warming the room, and he placed his coat and jacket near it. He stepped outside briefly to bring in their shoes, cleaning them off and setting them to dry. The kettle’s whistle echoed in the quiet room, and he took it off the heat. That’s when a thought began to bother him. 

‘Should I check?’ He found himself near the bathroom door, ear pressed against it, straining to hear any sign of life. ‘What if she passed out in there?... or maybe she’s just constipated and can’t take a shit’ 

Knocking softly, he asked, “You okay in there?” 

“Yes, sorry.” 

Relieved but mildly exasperated, he shook his head. She’s using up all the water in the place, he thought, realizing she’d definitely not adapted to the military’s five-minute shower rule. 

Inside the bathroom, she was struggling to detangle her hair, but there was no conditioner, no hair mask, or anything remotely helpful. Her skin felt dry without any lotion, slightly raw from the harsh soap he had. Her hair smelled vaguely like cucumber, a tangled mess that only worsened under her frustrated attempts. 

“We are not going to cry, we are not going to cry,” she kept whispering to herself in front of the mirror. 

‘This was supposed to be my wedding night,’ 

For as long as she could remember, she had dreamed of her fiancé slowly, reverently helping her out of her wedding dress—a dress chosen just for him. She’d imagined him finally seeing her, her skin soft, her scent sweet enough to eat, a blend of lotion, perfume, everything. 

Instead, here she was, struggling with tangled hair and an uncooperative brush, her mascara still on because there was no makeup remover, wearing a baggy T-shirt and gray sweatpants, smelling like some generic soap, with her wedding dress stuffed in a dirty laundry basket. 

A million questions rushed through her mind. ‘What do I do?… Should I just lay there and let him do whatever he wants?’ ‘Is it going to hurt?’ ‘Would he force me to do something?’ 

“I could lock myself in here forever,” she reasoned, gripping the doorknob. ‘…Or could I?’ 

But eventually, she stepped out cautiously, slowly opening the door. He was sitting with his back to her, watching the fire from one of the couches. When he sensed her presence, he glanced over his shoulder. “Finally. For a moment, I thought you drowned in there.” 

Eyes downcast, she muttered, “Sorry.” 

Levi clicked his tongue. “It was a joke,” he grunted, feeling like nothing he said made the situation any less awkward. 

Levi noticed her standing there, looking unsure and uncomfortable, and with a small sigh, he gestured toward the couch. "Sit down," he said, his tone a bit softer than usual. "Dry up. It's cold in here." 

She hesitated but finally obeyed, slowly lowering herself onto the couch, her hands still clinging to her damp hair. Levi awkwardly stood for a moment, unsure of what to do next, before clearing his throat before speaking again. 

"Do you want something to eat? I can go see if there’s anything left from dinner," he asked awkwardly, already knowing she hadn’t eaten since the long journey. 

She didn’t reply immediately, only giving a soft hum as her response. Levi looked over his shoulder, brow furrowed.  

"That’s a no, then?" he muttered, then shifted his weight and walked to the desk. He leaned against it, sipping from his glass.  

"Fine," he muttered, “but I prefer when people actually answer me with words.” 

She didn’t respond. He glanced over at her, then added, “You sure? I can bring something. I don’t mind.” 

"No, thank you," she replied, her voice quiet but clear. 

Levi let out a small grunt of acknowledgment, not wanting to push her. He felt an odd tension in the air as he took another sip from his drink. “Alright then.” He paused before offering, "Tea, maybe?” 

"No, thank you." Her voice was quiet, distant. 

Levi exhaled a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his wet hair as he tried to focus on the fire.  

The tension lingered in the air, and after a moment, she spoke again, breaking the silence.  

"When do you think my things will arrive?" she asked, a note of uncertainty in her voice. 

Levi glanced at her, "Could take a while. The roads are bad, especially with this weather." He paused, his eyes meeting hers for a moment before continuing. "But if you need anything urgently, just tell me." 

She hesitated, her eyes darting away. Levi frowned slightly, sensing she was holding something back. He was starting to feel a little impatient. 

"Are you still on the rags?" he asked bluntly, unable to ignore the subtle discomfort in the way she fidgeted. "Need something for that?" 

Her eyes widened, a blush creeping across her face as she looked away, clearly embarrassed by the question. She seemed to shrink under his gaze, her shoulders stiffening.  

"I-I’m fine," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. 

Levi raised an eyebrow, not entirely convinced by her answer. He didn’t know her well enough to be sure, but he was certain that something was off. He wasn’t about to let her go without offering help, though. 

"Look, if you need anything, just say it." He rubbed the back of his neck, his voice softening slightly, “I can be named humanity’s strongest and all that bullshit but I’m not a mind reader,” 

She didn’t meet his eyes, still hesitant, but Levi stood still, waiting for her to speak. ‘There’s no point dragging this out any longer,’ she decided. 

“No, uh—” she chose her words carefully, “I’m over it.” 

Levi still seemed confused, so she clarified, her face growing redder by the second. “I’m... ready for you… whenever you tell me.” 

Her words dropped into the room like the cannonballs once used to break titans’ necks. Levi’s first thought, admittedly, wasn’t his most noble: ‘So... she thinks people don’t fuck when women are bleeding or?’ 

Lost in his thoughts and the awkwardness of the moment, he didn’t notice how she bit her lip, glancing up at him shyly. “Just—please, don’t be too rough on me.” 

Captain Levi always had a comeback, a retort, a dry response. But now, he only pressed his fingers against his glass, eyes locked with hers, lips parted as if to speak but words caught in the back of his throat. Across his life, he’d seen people look at him in many ways—admiration, anger, pity, fear—but hers was different. Her eyes, reflective and tinged red, stared up at him with something close to terror. A terror filled with pure resignation, pleading him.  

His jaw tightened, and he felt a knot form in his throat. ‘I’m going to make those bastards pay for this,’ He broke eye contact, turning his head and squeezing his eyes shut.

It was painful, painful for him to think someone could look at him like that. To see him as someone who might treat her as an object, begging him that at least, if he was going to do that, not to be a brute about it. But the worst part, the thought that clenched his throat even more was: ‘Like my mother…’ 

The room felt silent except for the branches scratching against the window in the storm outside and the flickering firelight. He forced his voice to sound steady. “Just go to bed.” 

“Huh?” she asked, confused. “...Should I...wait for you there?” 

Levi shook his head. “I can’t do it. Just go to bed. You look like shit.” 

He wasn’t known for being the best communicator, and his words often got lost in translation.  She blinked, panic rising in her eyes. “I’m...not pretty enough? I tried to look my best—I didn’t mean to disappoint. Please, don’t call this off…” 

The thought of being sent back as a failure made her stomach turn. Her family, her younger sisters, her grandmother—they all depended on her. 

Levi raised his hand, stopping her mid-sentence. “Oi, oi, relax. I didn’t mean that—damn it! I meant you look tired.” 

“But—” she hesitated, moving a step toward him but keeping her distance. 

“Shit,” he muttered, his cheeks warming slightly. “It has nothing to do with that.” 

Her confusion was clear, so he forced himself to say it: “You’re...pretty, alright? That’s not the issue.” 

She still looked uncertain. “If you don’t…claim me…what will people say?” she asked. “People will look down on you as a soldier, as a man...as an alpha.” 

Levi chuckled, though he didn’t mean it. “Well, one good thing about who I am is that everyone’s too scared to say anything to my face,” he replied, almost gently. “I just can’t—not while you’re this scared.” 

The truth hung in the air, and she resumed fidgeting with her ring, frowning as she looked at the carpet and her voice grew quieter. “What if…I never want to?” 

Levi shrugged, too tired to pretend. “Then I guess we’ll wait until next spring when we’re both so damn drunk on hormones, you’ll be begging for it, and neither of us will remember it.” 

"Spring?" she echoed, her caution mixed with disbelief. "But that’s a long wait..." 

“Oh, well,” he said, with a dry humor, “we’ll just have to try not to kill each other in the meantime.” He gestured to the room. “Go to bed.” 

"Where will you sleep?" she asked, then added, almost disappointed, "Do you... have someone else?" 

Not that she was jealous, but she’d heard that “a good wife always knows.” 

This time, the question made Levi scoff, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. “Good one. No, I don’t. I don’t even use the bed—I sleep at my desk.” 

‘That can’t be healthy,’ she thought, grimacing. But, like a mouse just freed by a cat, she walked cautiously toward the bedroom, unsure if this escape was real. That can’t be healthy, she thought with a grimace of disapproval. But with hesitant steps, like a mouse released from a cat’s grip, she headed toward the room, still unsure how real this escape was. 

Levi finished his drink, then readied himself to take his own shower, thinking, ‘It’s going to be a long, tense wait until next spring.’ 

A wait filled with mounting anxiety. 

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @l3visthighs @hannieslovebot @flxrartsstuff @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @katharinasdiaryy @ackermanswifee @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @searriously @blackdxggr @storiesofsung @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-angel @galactict3a @lemonsupernova @hyuckwon-my-husbands @heyitsd1yaa @sydneyyuu @love-for-faeries-go-burrrr @mandaax @sugacor3 @r0ckst4rjk @vegetasgirl2799 @catiwinky @pinksaiyans @sparklykeylime Wanna join my tag list? Here!

[coolsketchablestuff]

Welcome to my atrocious shipping chart, I apologize in advance

Their opinions on eachother:

Headcanons below:

I've been having a story going on in my mind and it's just progressively evolved over time and this is the culmination of that specifically, so I'll try to explain the context of it here:

MAIN THING HERE IS THAT THE BEASTS (for the most part) "GET ALONG" WITH THEIR OTHER HALF

In my au thingy once they get along both half's get stronger, as if the soul jam becomes more whole (yes the ancients still ascended and reclaimed their soul jams as the rightful owners)

Burning Spice:

Got defeated by golden Cheese Cookie, after she left and he awoke from under the rubble of his castle he went to seek her out, to continue the battle, he wanted to be defeated, to be bested by the only worthy opponent, it was his DESTINY to crumble to her hands, he desired it so much. When he found and re-challenged her, she originally did fight him, but upon seeing how badly he wanted to be destroyed she decided to make him one of her treasures. At first he HATED it and would remind her how he could destroy all of it if he wanted to, but after months of slowly wearing him down he's now her right hand cookie and personal guard, very quick to fight anyone who gets to close to her radiance, he is referred to by the kingdom as "his anarchist".

Shadow milk cookie:

(because his actual story will be coming out soon I'm so paranoid about having to retcon this in the future) he has defeated pure vanilla cookie, finally! After so long!!! But wait, why didn't this victory feel right..? Why was the soul jam not reacting properly? Upon vanilla cookie crumbling should it not go back to him? Spoiler alert, no, no it did not as he was not worthy of it and the light was actively fading, as he began to slowly feel weaker with the progressive fading, having to think fast and make a decision he was not sure if he'd regret, he put all of knowledge to use and revive pure vanilla, centuries of being the representative of knowledge sure does come in handy! Ever since that day and discovering if the light fades so would he, he's tried to stay close to pure vanilla out of convenience, over time it becoming an actual friendship, though he is still overly protective/possessive of him to make sure no one hurts him.

Explanation of the relationships:

Golden cheese

- appreciates how Pure Vanilla's kindness is not conditional and relishes in the praise, though she's worried over him slowly spending less time with White Lily

- loves how loyal Burning Spice is, she is aware he's obsessed with her but she interprets it as him being greedy for her attention (it kinda is ngl)

- has fun doing stuff with shadow milk cookie, they like going to events together like parties and just messing around, they can joke with each other comfortably

Burning Spice

- kinda obsessed with Golden Cheese, seeing her as the only cookie allowed to be stronger than him, he doesn't let other cookies fight her as they're "not worthy"

- mostly sees pure vanilla as one of Golden Cheese's treasures and feels an obligation to her radiance to protect him. Is too uncomfortable to get closer to PV because he reminds him so much of pre-corruption Shadow Milk

- the new shadow milk cookie is definitely more lively, and ever since SM got along with PV his pranks have become more harmless which is enjoyable, one of his oldest buddies

Pure Vanilla

- Golden Cheese is one of his oldest friends, after everything that has happened he doesn't want to lose his friends again, he's slowly spending more time with her as White Lily is busy with other stuff and after everything he just wants to spend time with his friends

- after learning to get along with eachother, shadow milk is actually enjoyable to be around! They can talk about intellectual magic stuff, enjoy food and drinks, play games like chess, or just spend time together in comfortable silence

- does not have any strong opinions on burning spice as they do not talk much, though he isn't sure why considering how often they hang out, PV is confident he's seen BS looking at him sometimes when he thinks he isn't looking

Shadow milk

- pure vanilla is calming, when they feel worked up over something he's always there, PV is helping him get along better with cookies

- Golden Cheese Cookie is (currently) his best friend, they jokingly got along under the pretense on not being huge on WL but their friendship kept improving

- it's too much fun to prank burning spice, like SURE he could just find something they both find fun but as long as BS doesn't how actual disdain towards them he's not gonna stop! He loves to tease him too :)c

If I think of anything else I might add It? Idk, genuinely I just like having good guys in media make the bad guys nice, I enjoy "I can fix him" so much, THE ANCIENTS FIX THE BEASTS I SWEAR

[cherrycolored-punk]

take a bite out of these

just an updated list of all of my favorite creators so far! I’m sure there will be plenty more added 🖤

thank you for sharing your talent and your amazing creations!

this is a little long so all recs are below the cut !

can also follow my tag #el’s fic recs

Eddie -

crash + fall by @trashmouth-richie - an ongoing soulmate AU series about my favorite freak that I’m already so very in love with and is written so beautifully.

she fucking hates me by @littlexdeaths - I’m still foaming at the mouth over this bully!Eddie x reader fic. it’s so fucking hot and I don’t think I’ll be over it any time soon (or ever).

after hours by @hellfire--cult - I am fairly new to the omegaverse and holy fuck what an introduction this was. I love a dominate Eddie and oh my god did Roe deliver.

sailor’s delight by @dr-aculaaa - this fic made me YEARN in a way I wasn’t prepared for. Drac is an amazing writer and I just wanna live in this little world they created.

let's go, don't wait by @carolmunson - the fic that has me questioning why none of my online dates have ever been this good. I fucking love this story so much, just wanna live in a world where teacher!Eddie falls in love with.

daylight by @abibliophobiaa - while I tend to stay away from pregnancy!AUs, this one had me hooked. It's cute, sweet, hot. I need a dad!Eddie stat.

twenty-four hours / coffee shop blues by @ghost-proofbaby - ghost is hands down one of my favorite Eddie writers. She writes him in a way that makes me fall in love time and time again. as a bonus, if you're a fan of astarion, she's written the moon will sing (i love you like the sun) which is just as beautifully written as the rest of her works.

the biology tutor by @mrsjellymunson - I binged this in a day, the premise and the smut were so damn hot that I couldn't get enough.

everlong by @andvys - this was my first introduction to andy's work and it has remained a favorite ever since. has so many amazing stories but there's something about a secret relationship behind Steve's back that gets me.

the yes policy / wish you were here by @pinkrelish - the way I lost sleep reading through both of these fics. I love the worlds that Alyson created and the version of Eddie she gifted us with. I've read them over and over again.

to know you’re mine by @blueywrites - I read through this series in a day, losing sleep may I add, because I was that addicted to it. I will admit, at first, I didn’t think it’d be my jam because of the swinger dynamic but holy shit does Bluey make it both tender and hot at the same time. I almost combusted. I seriously couldn’t get enough. She is an amazing writer and I can’t wait to read more of her work.

for your viewing pleasure / shelter from the storm by @rebelfell - the way Sarah has me absolutely on my knees for Eddie every time I read one of her fics…they genuinely leave me UNWELL (in the best way). like for your viewing pleasure? I was a little unsure at first (would I get jealous over a fictional man having relations with other fictional women?) but then I devoured it. it’s so insanely hot and she is one of the best smut writers on here. and shelter from the storm? pllleeeeasseee Eddie show up on my doorstep to check up on me in a storm. Please offer to get me there.

Steve -

we tried the world / she drives me crazy by @upsidedownwithsteve - if there is an author I equate with a character, it's Emmy with Steve. I was a diehard Eddie girl until I read her stories and fell in love with my favorite dork again and again. All her works are seriously a gift that I always return to.

all i really want is you / colors by @loveshotzz - the first author that made me even consider an older!Steve let alone fall in love with him over and over in every way she writes him. I will never be over either of these fics and re-visit them all the time.

we'll call it love by @superblysubpar - I've said before that this is part of my top ten and still is to this day. I revisit it often, falling back into this world. dreaming of this steve. story is so witty, funny and hot while also remaining tender in many moments. Also, simply the best - the title is pretty self-explanatory because the story is already that…simply the best. It’s ongoing but I am already hooked. I love the Spider-Man!Steve AU and Taylor is an amazing writer so I know it’s only going to keep getting better.

asking for a favor by @wroteclassicaly - this struck me right in all the perfect feels and Kristen has a way of doing that. I have a long to be read list but Kristen is all over it. She's an amazing writer and I love all her angst / smut.

Jonathan -

rise and shine by @eiightysixbaby - I hadn’t read a fic for Jonathan before, or really considered it, but man…this fic managed to convert me. Now I need him in the biblical sense.

Billy -

no charge by @hellfire--cult - oh. my. fuck. what a fast conversion this was to a Billy fan. Jaw on the floor, wondering why I don’t have a hot hot hot Billy knocking on my floor to give me the ultimate striptease plus 8 inches extra.

honey honey by @pastel-pillows - speaking of my fast train to a Billy fan, this is the fic that really started it all. He is so sweet in this, and I just ache for a soft Billy since reading this amazing fic.

@boltedfruit

@selineabanto

@xgumiho

@tubesock86

@stervrucht

@toktopus-art

@donttellunclesam

@littleststarfighter

@tellme-astory

@jemmacdraws

@obligatedart

@strangergraphics (graphics / headers / dividers)

@hugdealer (some of my favorites edited photos of Eddie)

@freckledjoes (photos / gifs)

@werewolfnat (formerly kingofscoops)

@djo

@steveharringtondaily

@batty4steddie

@emziess

most, if not all, of these are Eddie coded

you know I can eat you better than he can

getting hate fucked on your crushes bed by his best friend

post campaign pleasure with your dungeon master

your bully finds out you have a crush on him

[leniisreallycool]

Colors

A knock on the doorframe of you open door disturbs you from your concentration. You look up to see Lucifer standing there, a concerned expression twisting his lips in a slight frown.

"Something wrong?" you say, breaking the slience.

He crosses his arms. "Nothing serious, but earlier Beel mentioned that you're colorblind. Why didn't you say anything sooner? We could have made better accommodations."

"What are you talking about? I'm not colorblind." You swivel your chain to face him, thoroughly confused. "Why would Beel say that?"

He frowns deeper. "He's certain that you are. If I remember correctly, he said you couldn't differentiate between red and *****. Apparently you tried to eat an unripe Devilberry, which are red when ripe."

You blink. "Sorry, red and what?"

Lucifer repeats the word, and now you're certain it's not one you know. "The fruit naturally starts out that way, then turns red as they ripen. I believe Satan posted a list of foods that are poisonous to humans on the refrigerator, which you must have seen when taking the berries."

"Yeah, I know the list is there. But the berries were red. I wouldn't have taken them if they weren't. The unripe ones are poison." Is he messing with you?

Lucifer shakes his head. "No, red is a very different color. I suppose Beel must have been correct in his assessment."

"What? No, I've taken tests, I have a good eye for color. I don't know what word you said, but that's not a real color." He has to be messing with you.

Before he can respond, Asmo bursts into the room and throws his arms around you. "Oh you poor darling, missing out this whole time! I didn't realize you couldn't appreciate my true beauty!"

You don't have time to formulate a reply as Mammon and Levi both barrel past Lucifer, who stumbles a bit before regaining his balance. Mammon hugs you tightly from behind over the back of your chair, ignoring the awkward angle he has to lean.

Levi sits on you and pokes your face a little too close to your eyes and you swat his hands off. For once, you pushing him back doesn't seem to bother him. "So that's why you suck at Devilcart - you've been playing severely impaired! Don't worry, Henry, I'll adjust the color settings so you can see better next time."

"Back off, clingy! They just discovered their vision is piss poor, can't you see they're distressed?!"

"You're the only one stressing them out, loudmouth," Belphie says, taking a seat at your knees, leaning his head against them. You hadn't even noticed him entering the room.

Beel stands in the doorway next to Lucifer, looking sufficiently apologetic for unleashing his brothers on you while you were trying to study. "I told Satan too, but he went to the royal library to figure out what colors humans are supposed to see. He said humans usually see ***** as red and wanted to double check."

"Well, I still have no idea what word you guys keep saying, but it's not one I know. And yeah, as far as I could tell, those Devilberries were red."

Immediately, all six of them gave you identical pitying looks. This is ridiculous. Three of the four cuddling you immediately chatter over each other, all competing for who was being most empathetic to your newfound inability.

"So this whole time, every time you've been poisoned in potions class, or wherever else due to a misunderstanding of ingredients, it's because humans can't see that part of the light spectrum. Their brains just interpret it as the most convenient color rather than actually processing it as it is," Satan explains, stepping around Beel, nose buried in a leather-bound tome that looked at least four centuries old.

"That was fast. Beel said you just left," you say, deciding to be unbothered by the situation.

Satan nods. "I already knew where the book was; I just had to grab it and come back."

"Wait wait wait - are you saying no human can properly appreciate my beauty? Not even Solomon?" Asmo detangles his arm from you long enough to 'faint'.

"Can you quit yappin' about yourself when MC is having a crisis over here?! They clearly don't need the extra hassle!"

"You're the loud one, Stupidmammon! STFU and back off!"

"Oh, you know, I forgot that other things can see colors humans can't, and vice versa. I guess demons can see a larger portion of the light spectrum?" you reply, completely ignoring the drama trio. "Humans can see from red to purple, nothing further on either side. I think there are colors we recognize as being real when that's not what they should look like, like yellow, but I can't remember more than that."

"I don't know what you mean by that, but this book does mention that humans can see a very limited range of colors. Even shrimps can see more than humans, which is odd, given how inferior the species is," Satan explains.

You've been living in the Devildom for a while now. You're used to the batshit insane shenanigans they get themselves into daily. But for some reason, Satan, one of the most powerful demons in existence, one of the great tempters of mankind and one of the few demons most humans believe in, saying 'shrimps' set you off giggling like a maniac.

"We're not doing this again-" "Oh HELL no, it was terrifying and creepy enough last time-" "Predictable weird humanness-" "They were fine last time-" "Is laughing just how humans cope with stress?"

With a heavy sigh, Lucifer strides over and easily hefts you out of your chair and away from the four leeches like a parent lifts their toddler from a highchair. He sets you down a little distance away from them, giving you space to collect yourself.

The brother disperse not long after that, the novelty of your apparent colorblindness already wearing off.

The next day, however, Asmo drags you with him to the mall, saying he needed your help with an experiment. And that's how Asmo discovered that humans can't see ultraviolet and that most of his favorite colors either look like a basic blue or purple, and that you genuinely think ***** looks good on him (it does just like everything else, but it's so not his color, hun).

[rafesbabyg1rl]

The Watcher ~ Part Two

Part One

Summary: Rafe Cameron x Reader, Stalker!Rafe x Pogue!Reader Your parents work late on Friday nights, which you spend alone. Except you haven't been alone in a long time, not that you know of at least. Rafe has watched for years, he's very good at it. His idea of staying an anonymous stalker is ruined when you catch him in your bedroom one Friday night. Rafe has to figure out how to fix his mistake before he loses the only thing that makes his life worth living. After you find the surprise he had left for you, you choose to believe that his threats were empty and try to turn him in. But, your plans are interrupted and you take an unexpected visit to Tannyhill.

Warnings: Rafe stalks reader...that's literally the plot. Strong & descriptive language, suggestive themes, death threat(?), manipulation, kidnapping (?). If I missed anything from this part that I should include in the warnings, please let me know!

Word Count: 3.5k

Author Note: Part Two is here!! I know this chapter is shorter than the previous, but I figured it's better to get what I had out. Also...I'm not sure if I like where this is going, so please share your thoughts about this part and ideas for future parts. Thank you all for the support on the first part of this story. Especially with this being my first work I've published on tumblr, I am very pleasantly surprised with how everyone has reacted to it. So, please enjoy and feel free to leave feedback! I love you all, thank you so much!!

CREDITS: The foundation of this fic was heavily inspired by/ based off of one of @faiszt 's bots on character ai. So, if you like this and you like character ai, I greatly suggest that you check out the bot!

The blinding morning light shines into your room through your curtains. You sit up and rub your eyes. You glance at the digital clock on your nightstand which currently reads: 10:34 am. Those sleeping pills really worked, you think. Your parents are already at the restaurant, probably just getting over with the morning rush. 

Your eyes begin to focus, your brows furrow as your eyes land on one of the posts of your footboard. You lean forward to grab the pair of panties you had just worn yesterday which are hanging from your bedpost. You’re pretty sure you had put these in your hamper last night and wait, why are they sticky…? You wonder, you examine them and come to the realization of what it is. Immediately you toss them away, that was not from you. It was your stalker, it had to be. Of course, the first night you spend alone since four weeks ago and he already breaks in. And he does this? You think about his words, “tell anyone and I’ll come back and fuckin’ kill you”, shivers roll down your spine. 

You hadn’t even had time to realize how horny you had been when you had woken up; and now that you have you feel so wrong. But your dream…oh god your dream. You can still remember it vividly, even more so the longer you think about it; you can see the face of the man who fucked you stupid in your dream. You know who it was, who your subconscious mind let you fuck while you slept. It was your stalker. 

Without another thought, you’re in the shower scrubbing the shame and disgust from your skin—or at least attempting to. When you feel somewhat satisfied, which also happens to be when the water begins to run cold, you finally get out. Wrapping a plush towel around your freshly clean body, you lean over the bathroom sink and wipe the condensation from the mirror leaving just enough space to see yourself. Before the glass fogs back up you’re able to see a small part of what appears to be a bruise poking out from underneath the towel wrapped around your chest. You lean in closer using one hand to re-wipe the mirror and using the other to pull your towel down past your boobs. Looking back at the bruised area on your chest, you can see that the closer you look at it, the more it looks like a hickey. You just about stumble backwards at the realization. 

You’ve had enough. After you quickly toss on some clothes, you grab your keys off your dresser with a shaky hand. You rush out towards your car and get inside, pulling out of your driveway carelessly and speeding off. When you arrive at your destination, you take a few moments to rethink this plan. You have to do this. You can’t keep living with some creep sneaking in your bedroom and touching you as you sleep. You twist the keys in the ignition and pull them out, you confidently strut towards the entrance of the building. When you feel the vibration of your phone in your pocket you pause, sighing as you reach back to take it out. When you read the random number, with the same Outer Banks area code as you, your brows furrow. Typically you wouldn’t answer a call from an unknown number, but something in you is telling you to answer. As you press the green button and bring your phone to your ear, you glance up at the building you were about to enter which reads, ‘Kildare County Sheriff’s Office’. 

“Hello?” You ask warily.

After a few long seconds, the person on the other side of the line answers you. “Stop.” The man’s voice sends familiar chills down your spine. 

“Excuse me?” You respond, your voice audibly shaky. “Who…who is this?”

“C’mon pup, you already forgot what I sound like? It’s already been that long?” Your eyes widen at the realization of who this voice belongs to. You’ve heard it one other time, well one time that you remember.

As your head darts around the parking lot looking for your stalker, your voice comes out in a tone that easily betrays you, revealing your fear, “No…no…what the hell do you want?”

Rafe smirks from his truck as he watches you from afar. “I want you to turn around and get back in your car, m’kay princess? And I highly suggest you do what I want.” 

“Or what? What’s stopping me from walking in? Or from yelling for help?” You take a step closer to the building’s entrance.

“Stubborn, stubborn girl…” the man chuckles, “If you don’t get back into your fucking car right now, you’re gonna really fuckin’ wish you had just listened to me. I’m gonna get what I want no matter what, baby. You’re mine.” And with that, Rafe hangs up the phone, still watching you from a distance. 

As much as you want to just run into the building and beg for help, you know that unfortunately since you’re a pogue, the cops aren’t going to believe a single word that comes from your mouth. In their minds, all pogues are liars and thieves. And since you don’t have the slightest clue on who the man you saw in your bedroom is, you figure there’s not much they’d be able to do even if they did believe you. So you reluctantly turn back to your car and get inside. The moment your door shuts you inside, your phone buzzes yet again with another call. It’s coming from the same number, but this time you don’t answer. This was your second mistake. 

Rafe’s already pissed off. You went against his rules, you didn’t listen to him, none of this will work if you don’t listen. He thought he had been threatening enough that you’d behave, but clearly you need another scare. You need to be taught that disobeying him does nothing but hurt you more. When you don’t answer the phone when you definitely know it’s him calling, this is just the cherry on top; the icing on the cake. Rafe is fuming. 

You drive out of the parking lot, breath heavy as you stay on high alert–searching for him. A truck suddenly pulls behind you, tailing right on your ass. You can’t see through the truck's front windshield due to the dark tint. You being paranoid, step on the gas and speed up a bit, well exceeding the speed limit. A few quick seconds pass by and you jump at the sound of sirens. It doesn’t take long for you to check your rearview mirror and realize that the sirens are coming from the truck behind you, which is flashing its red and blue lights. You let out a breath of relief. You’re being pulled over yet you’re relieved because it means you aren’t being trailed by your stalker. The feeling is short lived as you flick your signal on and pull off to the side of the road. You roll your window down and shut off the engine.

The officer approaches you and goes through the typical routine and you try to calm your nerves. All sound is drowned out as you get lost in your thoughts. 

“Ma’am?”, the officer repeats. “Do you know why I’ve pulled you over today?”

The sharp and unintentionally threatening voice of the deputy snaps you out of wherever the hell it was that your mind had taken you to. “Yes, sorry sir, I…I was going over the speed limit.” You submit, wanting to get this over with. You can’t help but worry what your stalker would think if he saw this, he’d probably think you’re turning him in. But, you’re not. Really this whole thing was a misunderstanding, but you can’t explain that to the cop. 

“And why is that?” He questions you ever further, his gaze staring at you intensely. You get nervous and want to look away, but you worry that might make you look guilty of something. You’ve been pulled over before, it’s not usually a big deal for you. However you’re just so goddamn nervous and need this moment to be over. You feel like you’ve done something wrong; like you’re hiding something. But you aren’t.

“I–I thought…I just got distracted sir, wasn't thinking about speed. I apologize for the inconvenience.” You catch yourself, technically you aren’t lying; you just aren’t explaining why you were distracted. The threatening words of your stalker still echo around your head. The deputy gives a small lecture as he writes up a ticket for you. Once he gets back into his truck and drives off, you rest your head back against the seat and let out the breath you’ve been holding. When you start your car back up and finally open your eyes, you look straight out across the road. You can see a tall man leaning against a truck parked across the road, staring right at you. The familiar grin on his face has you sick to your stomach. 

After making direct eye contact with him, you pull off the side of the road and do an illegal U-turn so that you’re heading in the opposite direction, leaving the man behind. You know that he’s following you, so you drive around aimlessly until you get another call from the same unknown number. You want to decline, but you’re too afraid to face the consequences that might follow. 

“What do you want?” You ask, voice full of faux confidence. The only thing you hear on the other side of the line is a heavy breath that causes your skin to become full of goosebumps. 

After you’ve had a few moments to panic, he finally speaks, “Keep driving”. His words are not said lightly. This is undoubtedly a command, not an option. 

“Keep driving to where?” You stammer with nervousness. 

“Tannyhill.” He replies strictly. 

“Tannyhill?” You question before being able to stop yourself. You can’t help the attitude that slips into your voice. When a few more moments of silence pass, you get more and more anxious for his response. “Hello…?” You ask quietly, wondering if you lost connection. Still nothing. “Hello?” You ask again with more volume. After another minute or two, you hear the phone beep; the call disconnects. 

Why the hell does he want you to go to Tannyhill? It doesn’t make any sense. But you don’t exactly have a choice. He’s following you either way and it’s not like he doesn’t know where you live…and just about everything about your life. So, it’s probably best to just play along and obey his commands. 

When you get close to the general destination, your phone rings with yet another call. You answer, already knowing who it's from. This time you don’t speak first, you wait to hear what he has to say. It takes a few moments, almost like he’s trying to wait long enough that you’ll talk. The silence starts to get unbearably awkward, but your mind is set on waiting for him to speak and Rafe doesn’t have the time to wait; having to give you directions and all. When he finally talks he doesn’t greet you. His voice breaking the silence startles you as he instructs you with the directions to get wherever it was he was forcing you to go. 

“Wait…turn left h-here?” You ask, confused at his directions. You had missed the beginning of what he said since you had to collect yourself after being frightened. 

He sighs in impatience, “No dammit, the next one. Were you not listening?” 

“I…no I-I was listening–” you stumble over your words as you turn onto the street he wanted you to. 

“Bullshit. You need to learn how to fucking listen to me, don’t you?” When you don’t respond, trying to focus on remembering the directions he gave you, it only serves to piss him off even further. “Huh?! Don’t you?!” He shouts into the phone as he follows behind you.

You whine in fear, “No..I can listen. I promise I can listen to you.” You practically beg. “J-just tell me where to go?”

Rafe directs you to his house, which you of course recognize as the Cameron’s mansion. You’ve heard about the Cameron’s, but you wouldn’t be able to point them out in a crowd or anything. Besides from the father, Ward Cameron, whom you’ve seen on the news several times. Is he a Cameron? As you park in the large driveway, you rack your brain trying to recall the name of the Cameron son. 

His truck parks behind you, blocking your car in. He quickly kills the engine and exits his vehicle. You don’t notice him walking up to you until he’s yanking your car door open and pulling you out by the arm.

“R-rafe?” You mumble insecurely. He pauses to look at you, chuckling at your words. He mutters a quick ‘smart girl’ before retightening his grip on your arm and continuing to pull you into the large mansion. You start to cry, getting overwhelmed as you imagine the many possible scenarios that may occur. “P-please,” you manage to choke out. “What do you want?”

Unlike the last time you cried to him, this time he doesn’t stop. He drags you up one level of the large, spiral staircase; pulling you into his bedroom. As soon as you see the bed, you’re already feeling it beneath your back when he shoves you down just a few seconds later. As if you hadn’t already embarrassed yourself enough, you can’t help the tears that begin to stream down your flushed cheeks at a flooding rate. 

“Wait…no, please, please!” The way you keep shouting and choking back sobs causes you to gag from how worked up you’ve gotten yourself. All the Cameron son does in response is lean back to get a full view of you as a smug grin spreads across his face. “Please, I—oh god, I’m gonna be sick…” You mumble, which is quickly followed by another gag that interrupts your constant sobs. 

Rafe snakes his hand up from your arm to your hair, wrapping his first tightly around a large section of it. He tugs on your hair to force your head to look up at him, causing a small whine to escape your lips. “Shhh…baby, shhh…” He mumbles, his ‘worried’ tone working to oppose his previous amused expression. “Calm down, alright? Calm down. Ain’t gonna do nothin’ you don’t want, m’kay pretty girl?” The way he says that last part…you’ve never heard his voice sound like that before. You didn’t even think he was capable of talking in that tone. He sounds like he might actually truly care about you. You’re relieved; maybe even a bit…comforted by the fact that he might be telling the truth about not doing anything you don’t want. Well, besides having you basically held captive in his home. 

“What…what are you gonna do?” You manage to choke out between sobs, trying to catch your breath so you can calm down.

“I just wanna talk to you baby. Alright?” Rafe mumbles your name into your ear, allowing you to feel his hot breath against the side of your face. Immediately you’re taken back to the first time you had met him, in your bedroom a few weeks back. You try to push that aside and bring yourself back to the present; the memory only brings back the feelings of complete and utter fear you experienced at that time. Not that the present was any better, hell, it was worse. 

Hesitantly, you nod. He waits a few minutes to speak; waiting for you to catch your breath. Once you’re calmer, at least on the outside, he finally starts to talk. “I wanted to talk about my proposition…” He looks down at you, bringing his hand up to cautiously run through your hair. “Last time I got cut short…remember that?”

You nod. “I…I tried to warn you my parents would come home. I-I swear I didn’t tell them anything.” You say frantically, trying to prove your innocence.

“Hey, shh…it’s okay babe. I know. I know.” Rafe speaks slowly, his eyes never leaving your lips. He pauses to momentarily dart his tongue out to wet his parted lips. “I know. You haven’t told…you’ve been a good girl and listened to me, hm? Haven’t you baby? Haven't you been a good girl?” 

You nod frantically. “I…I’d never turn you in…” The false seductiveness in your voice turns him off, if that’s even possible. 

He pulls back from you and sighs, “Shut up.” He runs a rough hand over his buzzed head and begins to quickly pace across his bedroom. 

“B-but you wanted to talk…” You remind him. The way his attitude was constantly shifting in great amounts had you furrowing your brows as you tried to figure him out. 

“Yeah, I do. But not to a goddamn filthy, lying whore.” He retorts, a large grin appearing on his face while he watches your beautiful features move on your face, displaying your thoughts  as you take in his words. “Just be yourself alright? I can always tell when you’re not you.” He says almost sincerely. “I want…I need you to want this. Don’t try to pull that fake crap on me ever again, yeah?” 

Immediately you nod. “I…yes-”, you stammer, instantly regretting even trying to talk in the first place. Rafe chuckles, making your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. He stops pacing and lets out a long sigh, turning to face you again. His steps pause when he’s standing just before you. 

He leans down to whisper in your ear. “I really need this to work, okay…? This is good, this can be good for the both of us. I can help you; we can help each other, baby.” A silent tear rolls down your cheek from the fear of what’s to come. “I know…I know I messed up, alright? I know. But, you don’t have to be scared, baby. It’s all gonna be okay.” He brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Please…I just wanna go home, let me go home!” Your cries are ugly, and very, very real. The fear in your voice only worries him. Worries him that you may never get past this. But you have to. You don’t have another option. And he really, really doesn’t want to have to hurt you. That was never his intention. 

“But you are home, baby. You are home.” He mutters as his fingers brush over your cheeks, smearing your tears. Your breath hitches at his words and your eyes slowly move up to meet his. This cannot be happening. Why is this happening? You think.

“No…please I…just let me go home. I won’t tell. I promise I won’t. I’ll…I’ll never tell anyone about any of this okay, I’ll never say anything about you.”

“I can’t do that, baby…you know I can’t do that.”

“Why not? I swear, I’ll never ever breathe a word of this to anyone.” You say enticingly.

Rafe sits down besides you, causing the mattress to dip and make you lean towards him. He puts an arm around you and his hand lands on the back of your head, pulling it into his chest.

He leans down to speak into your ear while his hand pets over your hair as you cry into his chest. “Because I need you baby, I need you. And I need you to let me take care of you, yeah? I know…I know you’re scared, but you don’t have to be. Just trust me okay…we’re gonna be so good together baby.” He tugs at your hair, gently guiding your face to look up at him. “Just listen to me and nothing will happen, I don’t wanna have to…do anything. I just need to know that you’ll listen to what I say.” Immediately you nod, going along with what he says. He tugs on your hair harder, eliciting a gasp to fall from your lips. “Ah ah, I know you can talk. You’re a big girl, now fucking act like it.” He says forcefully.

“I-I’m gonna listen, I’ll listen to you, just please, please don’t hurt me.”

He smiles softly as his eyes dart across your face, unable to pick a feature to focus on, everything about you is just too damn perfect. “Don’t worry I won’t hurt you, not as long as you listen.” His grip loosens on your hair again. “But you’ll be begging for it soon enough.” Rafe’s whispers are enough to make your sobs start again; in which he pulls your head back into his chest. Your tears soak into his shirt as you have no choice but to cry into him.

To be continued...

Thank you for reading! I hope this was enjoyable. This part took quite a bit for me to finish, since life has been a bit busy and I haven't had much time to plan or write. I apologize for the short chapter, I'll try my best to make up for it with the next part! I never really feel done with anything and as I said before I'm not sure if I'm a fan of this part or not. So, if you have literally ANY feedback, questions, or suggestions, PLEASE feel free to let me know! I don't really have any solid plans for this fic so if you have any ideas I just might include them in future parts. And there's not much I won't write!

[izudeeilo]

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You can study me

Sero hanta smau

volley-ball player sero x art student fem!reader, no quirks au, college au.

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a/n before you go on! there's going to be more pictures throughout this part, so when you see the divider (yellow line), stop and go back to the reading part :)

Senior year is finally here! You thought that this time, the teachers would be more lenient with you and your classmates, but not at all. In fact, they even got stricter... They assigned you a half year-long work, which would be worth 30% of your final grade. What does the work consist of, you ask? Making a complete study of the life of a student you need to pick and paint it.

But... you can't pick a friend.

Part.5 • Part 7 (soon)

Part 6

Ever since he sent you that message you’ve been anxious of what he had in mind. You couldn’t stop thinking about it and hated that you had to wait the whole weekend for it. He hasn’t texted you since and your head was overflowing with scenarios.

“I think I'm going to go insane” you say groaning as you walk in the kitchen where the girls were cooking together.

“It’s going to be fine you drama queen. It’s not the first time you hang out without any plans” Himiko says while chopping vegetables.

You cross your arms and lean on the doorframe. “But it feels like it's more than this, he hasn’t even texted me since” you retort.

Throwing your head back with another groan, you approach the counter and take a piece of cut cucumber.

“Listen, it’s Hanta okay. There’s nothing to worry about” Mina comes up to you and puts her hand on your shoulders. “So stop your drama, and we’ll soon clear your mind with our little girl time mmh” she tilts her head with a reassuring smile.

You sigh and laugh. “You’re right, now that I admitted that I liked him, I've been overthinking every small thing he does…”

“So you do still have some sense left in you” Ochaco turns to you both with a smirk.

“Oh shut up” you roll your eyes. “Now what do you need help with” you ask, rolling your sleeves up.

You and the girls were now having a little party every weekend when you didn't have anything else planned. You cooked and baked together, chose a movie to watch while sipping a glass of wine. Pretty cliché yes, but don’t clichés always end up being the best.

At the end of the night, you all go back to your rooms and as you lay down on your bed slightly tipsy, you grab your phone and open your discussion with Hanta and just type.

You

made me anxious whole weekend dumbass

You woke up the next day thankful classes were canceled today, so you could prepare yourself mentally before 6pm came. You were of course excited to spend the evening with him but you just had that weird gut feeling that something was going to happen.

As you slowly got ready, showering, finding a simple and comfortable but still cute outfit, you were left sitting on the couch. It was only 3pm and you decided to draw some composition ideas for the painting.

”What are you working on?” Ochaco walks in with two cups of hot chocolate, handing one to you. You smile and thank her, sipping on the warm drink.

”Trying out some composition for the painting. Pinpointing where everything is going to be you know”

“It’s ending soon right?” she asks, seating next to you.

“Actually, our teacher realized she may have been too hard on us and gave us the whole year.” you chuckle.

“Wait what— How come I didn't hear about this?!” she straightened herself.

“She sent us an email quite late in the night. Some sense got knocked in her head at 2am I guess” you laugh.

”That’s great! More time with Hanta” she elbows you and chuckles.

”Stop…” you say shyly, hiding your face with your hand.

—

“Do I look good?” you ask worriedly as you show off your outfit.

”For the hundredth time… Yes you look great” all three of your friends sigh dramatically.

You’ve been running around between your room, the bathroom and the living room to make sure you were looking good. You knew it had to be a simple hang out but couldn’t help the amount of stress you had inside you. And before you knew it, the sound of the doorbell echoed in your apartment and the girls immediately went into hiding.

You shook your head at their silliness and went to open the door thinking to yourself. This is Hanta, it’s going to be fine, nothing is happening.

As you open the door, you see him standing there with a smirk on his face but you could see the crease between his eyebrows, indicating he was nervous. He looks you up and down and you can see him gulp before taking a breath.

“Ready to go?”

“Been waiting forever” you walk out the door and roll your eyes teasingly and he guides you down to his car. Once you get there, he opens the door for you.

”What a gentleman we have there” you tease.

”You doubted it?”

”Never”

After a few minutes he parked his car in front of a quite big building.There was no indicative sign of what the building was, it only had two wide doors in the front. He gets out first and helps you out of the car.

”So what are we doing?”

”You’re so impatient, wait a few more seconds” he ruffles your hair.

”Well if you had texted me, maybe i wouldn’t be so lost. “your words come out a bit more bitter than you wanted to.

You walk through the reception with him and he grabs your hand and asks you to close your eyes.

”Hanta seriously…”

“Come on, hermosa just a few more seconds.” he pouts and you couldn’t resist.

Guiding you through a corridor, he opens the door and you can feel the breeze hitting you again in the face. He stops and walks behind you.

“You can open your eyes now”

You take a deep breath and open your eyes. You are greeted by an empty ice skating rink. No one, absolutely no one was here. Small lights were hanging all around the rink, you could hear a song quietly in the background that you recognise to be Just like Heaven by The Cure.

You turn your head to Hanta, mouth agape. You had no idea what to say, did he set everything up himself. Did he ask to privatize the whole ice rink for you two?

”Hanta this…this is absolutely crazy. Did— did you do that all by yourself?” you ask.

”Well I’ve had help but it was my idea yeah…” he rubs his neck nervously. “You like it?”

“Like it? Hanta I love it! This is incredible” you ran to his arms hugging him. He’s taken back but hugs you back almost instantly.

After breaking the embrace, he grabs your hand again.

“Shall we?”

“We shall.”

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

You don’t think you’ve ever had that much fun before. This was truly like something out of a movie. You and Hanta were both skating for god knows how long, dancing along to the playlist he had made for the occasion and you couldn’t help but fall even more for the boy.

How could you not honestly. He’s all you had ever dreamed of and he keeps showing you that everyday. As you hold hands you can’t help but have a constant smile on your face.

Hanta kept glancing at you and his eyes softened anytime you looked at him with that sparkle in your eyes or with that pretty smile of yours. He keeps going back to the day you first met and how everything had evolved between the two of you ever since.

All thanks to that assignment you had been given. He never felt luckier than right now.

He spins you around just to hear that laugh he wishes to hear for the rest of his life. And as you continued to skate around, he let go of your hand and you slid away, without realizing he wasn’t by your side anymore.

The lights suddenly shut off but came back a second later, less bright this time. As you turn around, you see Hanta a bit further away from you and the song changes.

Can’t Take My Eyes of You by Frankie Valli begins playing at a low volume and you hide your face in your hands trying to hold in your chuckle and the warmth that was spreading to your cheeks. Surely this wasn’t real right, you had to be dreaming.

When you look back up, Hanta was right in front of you. A dorky smile is present on his face as he holds a bouquet of flowers tightly in his hands.

You can’t help the wobbly smile that spreads across your face as you both stare at each other before Hanta begins talking.

“First of all I’m sorry for not texting you at all this weekend. I may have been as nervous as you and maybe even more because I wanted everything to be perfect.” He chuckles and you continue smiling at him.

”Fuck..uh” he struggled to find words when you looked at him like that.

“I don’t think I can hide how I feel anymore. Ever since we first met, you’ve been the only thing on my mind and I only wanted to get to know you more. The more time we spent together, the more this feeling grew.” he looks down before looking back up.

”You brighten up every single one of my days and…” he stops for a moment but you continue looking at him adoringly. Heart beating fast you think it might get out of your chest. It seems like time had stopped before he continued.

”I love you y/n… Te amo querida.”

You feel your eyes getting wet so you take your hand to wipe them away but you suddenly feel Hanta’s hand caress your cheek and wipe a falling tear with his thumb.

”You okay?” he asks worried.

You nod reassuringly. “Never been more okay.”

”I love you too Hanta” you respond back through a half chuckle and sob.

He softly puts down the bouquet before wrapping his arms around your waist, taking you off the ground and spinning you around. Surprising you as he still had his ice skates on. He puts you back on the ground and asks.

”Can I kiss you?”

”Of course you idiot”

I love you baby and if it’s quite alright I need you baby…

His hands held both of your cheeks tenderly before he plants his lips on yours. You were quick to wrap your hands around his neck, pulling him closer to you. One of his hands slowly moved to wrap itself around your waist. Your mouths moving slowly in a perfect tender rhythm. He couldn’t pull away, you were too sweet for that. And as you moved your hands into his hair he felt like he was in heaven. You pulled away for a second to breathe and chuckle at your flushed faces before his lips found their way back to yours. Snow was falling all around you and as the slow kisses turned fast you both got lost in the moment.

His lips finally parted from yours after a while. Panting and heavy breaths were all you were hearing as you looked at each other.

“Does that mean I’m yours mi amor” he breaks the silence.

“What do you think…”

”I don’t know, maybe it was just a friendly kiss.” he jokes.

”Oh you’re such an idiot. I hate you”

”You know you love me” he grins, pulling you closer if that was even possible.

“Yes. Yes I do”

—

After that, he wanted to immortalize this day. So Hanta brought you to the nearest photo booth and had you both take the cutest pictures ever.

“Come on this is going to be fun” he urges you.

You take off your coats and begin posing. You laugh and make the silliest faces. Bringing his face to yours, you pepper his cheek with kisses.

He drives you back to the apartment and both of you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself. You were still in his car, the only difference was that you were now sitting on his lap. The kisses grew deeper and he couldn’t let go of you. He became obsessed the moment he had a taste of you. You tug slightly at his hair as you feel him bite your bottom lip before going back to kiss your already swollen lips.

“Hanta…” you whisper when you pull back from him.

”Yes mi vida…” He places soft kisses at the nape of your neck, eyes not leaving yours.

“It’s getting late. I should go” you caress his cheek.

”Already…what time is it?” He reaches for his phone and reads the time. 11:05pm.

Hanta groans and settles his head on your chest as you begin playing with his hair. Staying in that position for a few more minutes before you plant a small kiss on his head and get back to the passenger seat. You put your coat back on and hear Hanta open his door. You get ready to get out with the bouquet in your hands but he beats you to it and opens your door before bending down and wrapping his arms behind your back and knees.

”Hanta, what are you—“ you make a small noise as he slightly adjusts you on his arms. He closes the car door with his legs and locks it.

“Up you go” he smiles down at you and you roll your eyes.

He takes you up the stairs and to your front door. He sets you down and you search for your keys.

“Thank you for today Hanta” you say, opening the door quietly.

You set the bouquet on the table before turning back to him.

”I’ll see you soon” you wrap your arms around his shoulders and plant a sweet kiss on his lips one last time.

“Dream of me amor” he winks at you and steals another kiss before making his way to the stairs. You begin to turn around but stop yourself in your tracks when you see him kissing his hand and sending the “kiss” to you.

You chuckle quietly and mimic grabbing the kiss and planting it on your cheek and watch him smile like a little kid. Only then you truly go back to your apartment and close the door with a smile on your face.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

a/n i finished this at 2 am...i'm going to sleep hope you enjoy this longer part!

[littleprinces]

Day 14: Cuckold

Jisun x Male Reader x OC

Kinkvember Day 14

The sun was setting as I poured myself a glass of wine, the warm amber liquid swirling in the glass as I stared out the window. My wife, Jisun, was in the kitchen, humming a soft tune as she cooked dinner. She was a vision in her apron, her raven hair cascading down her back, her almond-shaped eyes sparkling with life. She was everything I could have asked for in a wife—beautiful, intelligent, and incredibly sexy.

The doorbell rang, and I smiled, knowing who it was. I walked to the door and opened it to find my old friend, Jake, standing there with a grin on his face. "Long time no see, man," he said, clapping me on the back as he stepped inside.

"It's been too long, Jake," I replied, leading him into the living room. "How have you been?"

"Can't complain," he said, sitting down on the couch. "Life's been good. How about you and Jisun? Still living the dream?"

I chuckled, "Absolutely. She's amazing."

Jisun walked into the room, her eyes widening slightly as she saw Jake. "Jake, it's been ages," she said, her voice soft and melodic.

"Too long, Jisun," he replied, standing up to hug her. "You look incredible."

I watched as they embraced, a flicker of something primal stirring within me. I had always found Jake attractive, and the thought of him with Jisun sent a shiver down my spine.

"So, what brings you to our humble abode?" Jisun asked, sitting down next to Jake on the couch.

"I was just in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop by," he said, his eyes lingering on Jisun's face. "You know, catch up with old friends."

I smiled, "Well, we're glad you did."

The three of us chatted for a while, the conversation flowing easily between us. As the night wore on, I noticed Jake's gaze shifting to Jisun more and more often, and I saw the way her lips parted slightly as she talked to him. I could almost see the tension building between them, and it was intoxicating.

"You know," I said, leaning back in my chair, "I've always wanted to see you two together."

Jisun's eyes widened, and Jake raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?" he asked.

I smiled, "I mean, I've always thought you two would make a great pair. Jisun, you're so beautiful, and Jake, you're so... manly."

Jake chuckled, "Well, I can't argue with that."

Jisun blushed, her eyes flicking between the two of us. "I don't know," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Come on, Jisun," I said, standing up and walking over to the couch. "You can't tell me you haven't thought about it."

She looked up at me, her eyes filled with a mix of desire and uncertainty. "I... I don't know what to say."

I smiled, reaching down to stroke her cheek. "Say yes," I whispered.

She looked at Jake, her lips parting slightly as she took in his strong jawline and broad shoulders. "Yes," she whispered.

Jake's eyes darkened, and he reached out to tangle his fingers in her hair, pulling her closer. She let out a soft moan as his lips crashed down on hers, his tongue sliding into her mouth. I watched as they kissed, my cock hardening in my pants as I imagined what was to come.

Jake broke the kiss, his breath ragged. "Fuck, Jisun," he murmured, his eyes locked on hers. "You're so fucking sexy."

She smiled, her cheeks flushed. "So are you mmhhhh" she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

I watched as Jake stood up, pulling Jisun to her feet as well. He pushed her up against the wall, his hands roaming over her body as he kissed her again. She moaned into his mouth, her hands gripping his shirt as she ground against him.

I watched as Jake's hands slipped under her dress, his fingers tracing the edge of her panties. She let out a soft gasp as he slipped a finger inside her, his thumb rubbing against her clit.

"You're so fucking wet," he murmured, his voice ragged. "I can't wait to taste you."

He dropped to his knees, his hands gripping her thighs as he pulled her panties down. I watched as he buried his face in her pussy, his tongue licking and sucking her folds. She let out a loud moan, her hands gripping his hair as she rode his face.

"Fuck, Jake," she breathed, her eyes locked on mine. "That feels so good."

I watched as Jake's fingers slipped inside her, his tongue fucking her as he brought her to the brink of orgasm. She let out a scream as she came, her body shaking as waves of pleasure washed over her.

Jake stood up, his cock hard and ready as he kissed her again. "I want to fuck you," he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

She smiled, her eyes locked on his. "Yes," she whispered. "I want that too."

I watched as Jake turned her around, bending her over the couch as he positioned himself behind her. He slid his cock into her pussy, both of them letting out a loud moan as he filled her completely.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he murmured, his hands gripping her hips as he started to move.

I watched as they fucked, my cock aching with need as I imagined what it would feel like to be inside her. Jisun let out a loud moan, her body shaking as Jake pounded into her.

"Harder," she breathed, her voice ragged. "Fuck me harder."

Jake obliged, his hips slamming into hers as he brought her to the brink of another orgasm. I watched as her body shook, her pussy clenching around his cock as she came again.

Jake let out a groan, his body tensing as he came inside her. He pulled out, his cock glistening with her juices as he smiled at her.

"That was amazing," he said, his voice breathless.

Jisun smiled back, her eyes locked on his. "It really was," she murmured.

I walked over to them, my cock rock hard as I joined them on the couch. "I want you to suck my cock," I said, my voice thick with desire.

She smiled, her eyes filled with lust as she knelt in front of me. She took my cock in her mouth, her tongue swirling around the head as she sucked me deep. I let out a loud moan, my hands gripping her hair as I fucked her mouth.

"That's it, baby," I murmured, my hips moving as I brought myself closer to the edge. "Suck my cock."

She let out a moan, her mouth filled with my cock as she sucked me harder. I could feel my orgasm building, and I knew it was only a matter of time before I came.

"I'm gonna come," I breathed, my body tensing as I filled her mouth with my cum.

She swallowed it all, her eyes locked on mine as she licked her lips. "Mmm," she said, her voice filled with satisfaction. "That was delicious."

The three of us collapsed onto the couch, our bodies slick with sweat as we caught our breath. I looked at Jisun, her eyes filled with lust and desire as she smiled at me.

"That was amazing," she said, her voice soft.

I smiled back, my hand reaching out to tangle in her hair. "It really was," I said, my voice filled with satisfaction.

[goodlucktai]

raised on little light (1/3)

rise of the tmnt word count: 2k pairing: leo & oc i've had this idea rattling around since the rise farewell comic earlier this year made it canon that the turtles had another brother and a sister floating around somewhere. we know who their sister is, so this is my take on that 5th brother. i hope you enjoy meeting him <3 big thank you to @soldrawss and @mykimouser for enabling my insane behavior (and thank you again to sol for drawing the art i included in this chapter!!!) title borrowed from northern attitude by noah kahan read on ao3

x

2020

Leo regretted his last words as soon as they left his mouth.

“Hero moves are totally your style”? As if Raph doesn’t have enough issues already.

But what he meant—what he would have tried to explain if there was time—was that Raph is his hero. He’s always been Leo’s hero. And if Leo could be anything like him, even for a second, even if it was the last thing he ever did, then he could be satisfied with that. 

It’s a silly thing to be stuck thinking about, laying on a torn up chunk of earth with a monster ominously lumbering somewhere below, looking for where it threw its toy. Laying there, feeling every bruise and broken bone, and hope that he didn’t hurt his big brother’s feelings.

They’ll be okay, Leo thinks, trying to make it be the thing that gives him courage instead of just more homesickness. They’ll miss me, maybe for a long time, but they’ll be okay.

Leo’s supposed to be fighting for his life, but it’s all he can do to keep a grip on the photo in his hand, the only thing in this entire dimension worth holding onto. It’s all he can do to keep his eyes open when every blink is longer than the last. 

It feels like enough of a rebellion. The Krang looked annoyed that he was still breathing the last time it batted him through the void like a fly, which gives Leo the idea that he should probably be dead by now. He feels a detached sort of pride at how grown-up he’s being about all this. Better late than never

Leo waits for the Krang to come for him, dripping his blood and sneering his daddy’s nickname for him hatefully as it does, and hopes he made his family proud. 

Leo hopes he’ll go wherever Gram-gram is. It would be nice to know someone when he gets there. 

Movement in his periphery snags Leo’s attention. His brain starts throwing up warning flags, signaling danger—anything moving around in here is another parasite, or a Krang hound, nothing he’ll want to be sprawled out on a silver platter for—but he can’t summon any urgency. 

He turns his head and finds himself looking up at another turtle. 

It’s the very last thing he expected to see. They both just stare at each other for a moment. 

The newcomer appears to be a few years older than Leo, based on the broadness of his shoulders, and half a head taller. Their skin is more gray than green and their plastron is so pale it’s closer to white than yellow. Their carapace, what Leo can see of it, is a deep blue-black and they’re covered, skin and shell both, in white spots. Two of the spots on their face give the impression of eyebrows lowered in a glare, but they don’t seem angry at him.

The turtle is completely unfamiliar to Leo, which is saying something. He thought he and his family had the monopoly on… this whole situation. 

Disquieted, Leo remembers that he’s supposed to be the only turtle here. That was a very significant part of the decision he’d made. 

It must be a hallucination, he decides, instantly comforted by his own reasoning. That makes sense. He just wished that if his mind was going to conjure him some dying company it could at least be someone he knows. An imaginary Mikey or Donnie or Raphie for one last hug. One last affectionate forehead bonk. An “I still love you,” if that wasn’t asking too much. 

Don’t you cry now, he scolds himself sternly when his eyes start to blur and burn. It’s not about you. 

With a resounding crash of metal against stone, the Krang finds them at last. He’s snarling something that Leo is too slow to piece together before he cuts himself off—surprising the hell out of Leonardo by acknowledging the hallucination. That’s not how that works. 

“Another pest ,” the Krang hisses. His serrated teeth glint when he draws his gummy lips back in an ugly smile. His tone is oily and unpleasant when he adds, “You’re less colorful than those other ones. I would have remembered seeing you. Where were you when your accomplices were fumbling about in my Technodrome like the stupid creatures they are?”

“We won,” Leo reminds the alien, even though it makes him cough. His lips are warm and wet now but he won’t think about why. “Blew up your ugly ship. Who looks stupid now?” 

“Shut your mouth!” the Krang roars, going from slimy to homicidal in about three seconds. Leo cringes, every ounce of animal instinct in his body urging him to hide in his shell and ride the rest of this nightmare out. 

The spotted turtle snaps, “Don’t talk to him.” 

It would have made sense if he was looking at Leo when he said it. Don’t engage, don’t bait the big monster that could kill you with as much effort as it takes you to blink, et cetera ad nauseum. If only he’d had a nickel for every time he heard that. 

But instead the turtle is looking at the Krang, and he’s radiating the kind of cold-blooded murder that you mostly only see in movies. He has one arm flung out in front of Leo like he actually means to use it to stop the Krang from getting any closer. 

“Don’t even look at him,” he goes on, sounding seconds away from baring his teeth. 

This guy is significantly unaware of the danger he’s facing, and Leo ought to warn him about what enormous clusterfuck he’d just wandered into. Leo ought to say he appreciates the reptile solidarity, but you should definitely run, new guy. 

But this probably isn’t actually happening outside of his own head. And besides, Leo has to focus really hard on his numb fingers so he doesn’t drop his photo. 

“I’ll look where I please,” the Krang says, as unbothered by the hallucination as he was by Leo’s entire family. “Starting with that fool head of yours. I’m interested in whatever backdoor led you here. If it’s my way out, well —”

Adrenaline surges through Leo, and he’s hardly aware of moving before he’s lurching up and shouting out, “No!” 

He can’t get out, he can’t. Leonardo won’t be able to trick him again. He won’t be there to help this time. 

“I do have one thing for you,” the spotted turtle interrupts to say, reaching over his shoulder for what turns out to be a compound crossbow strapped to his back. 

Leo doesn’t know a lot about archery so it’s weird his fictional turtle does, crank-cocking the weapon like it’s an extension of his arm. He watches cluelessly as the turtle slides something very purple out of his jacket pocket and notches it into the groove where the bolts are supposed to go. It’s definitely not a bolt, but it’s a piercing-type projectile of some kind, and it fits in the crossbow like it was designed with crossbows in mind. 

The turtle aims the bow at the Krang, who clicks the claws of his metal suit on the ground the way Splinter would drum his fingers on the kitchen counter when he was waiting on the microwave. The Krang looks condescending and mildly curious, like he’s watching dumb little animals do something they’re not trained to do. 

“He told me to tell you he’s sorry he couldn’t be here to see this part,” the spotted turtle says, and then shoots without a second of hesitation or unnecessary dramatics. 

The Krang bats the projectile away, or tries to, but it explodes on contact with his armor, and suddenly all Leo can smell is burning metal. Then burning meat. 

The Krang begins to scream, clawing at something defiantly purple with a mind of its own that eats straight through him the effortless, immediate way corrosive acid chews through soft tissue. It moves like nanotech, covering as much of the Krang as possible in a manner of seconds and clearly designed to consume whatever it touches like a school of cartoon piranhas. 

Donnie would love it, color scheme and all. 

The Krang stumbles drunkenly, howling like a creature possessed, and Leo and his turtle companion both watch silently until he tips over the edge of the hunk of torn earth they’re on. Gravity is nonexistent in this dimension, so he doesn’t so much fall as sort of drift in another direction while he’s distracted with the purple stuff that’s doing its best to eat him alive. 

The last handful of minutes have been so bizarre that it’s actually going pretty far in convincing Leo that none of it happened for real. The Krang hasn’t actually found him yet. This is clearly a dream. Or a pre-death electrical storm as the neurons in his brain fire up to fizzle out.  

He tips his head to the side again to stare up at the archer, who is putting his bow away with perfect confidence that whatever that purple thing was, it will do the job. 

“Who are you?” Leo asks stupidly. 

“Gio,” the probably imaginary turtle replies.

Leo’s mouth runs off before he can stop it. “Just Gio? Like Cher?”

God, he thinks. That was stupid, Leo. Not the time or place, Leo. You’re in the prison dimension. You’re dying here and you can’t even cut the jokes now? Raph was so right about you.

But the imaginary turtle surprises him by smiling slightly, the corners of his mouth pulling just barely upwards in a way that somehow completely transforms him. Not the time or place for jokes or smiling at them but here they are. Like company.

“Giorgio Hamato,” ‘Gio’ says. That lands in Leo’s ears as something remarkably worth making a lot of noise over, but he can’t begin to unpack it. And after a second, he forgets what the remarkable part was. His mind is a deck of cards that got shuffled too enthusiastically and ended up scattered all over the floor. Gio doesn’t seem to mind when Leo just blinks at him, adding, “I’m here to take you home.”  

“Pretty sure Uber doesn’t come out this far,” Leo mumbles, the words a paint smear, all thick and wet and muddy. One of his teeth feels broken and it’s keeping him awake, a blistering ache that cracks through the back of his mouth like lightning. “And I’ve got, like, zero bars.”

This is how I cope, he thinks, watching the bigger turtle absorb the second bad joke in as many minutes. Leo’s blinking fast so he doesn’t cry. He’s trying to focus on anything but the pain radiating through his whole body, and the swallowing darkness all around him, and the ruins of ancient metal ships looming where they float unrestricted by gravity, and the ballistic howls of a pissed-off pink alien still dealing with whatever the heck this Gio guy did to him.

He can’t focus on any of that because all of that is scary and he’s already terrified. He needs to not be terrified because he doesn’t want to be that kind of ghost when he haunts his family. He wants to be the friendly, funny kind, the kind that gets to stay at the end of the movie, the kind that will make silly faces at Mikey so he doesn’t get scared, and leave sticky notes for Donnie to remember to charge his phone and drink enough water, and cover Raphie with an extra blanket while he’s asleep because it gets cold at night but he always leaves his bedroom door open for them.

If Leo’s friendly and funny, if he helps, he’ll get to stay. He didn’t get to stay the first time, so this time he has to make it stick.

Larger hands wrap around his. It doesn’t register for a second, and then it does in a big way.

Leo jerks his head up. Moving just that much hurts like his ribs are broken all the way down and the bones in his leg have all melted into liquid agony, but it clears some of the fog away.

Someone is holding his hands in the prison dimension.

An alien like the Krang wouldn’t know the first thing about the human gesture, the togetherness of it, so it’s not some mean trick that’s being played. And it can’t be an imaginary turtle that Leo dreamed up, after all, because kindness would be the last thing he’d give himself.

Possibly very real Gio says, “Fuck Uber. Whatever that is. And don’t repeat that word.”

The punchy breath Leo chokes in is going to punch out again as a laugh or a sob. Leo squeezes the bigger turtle’s hands, photo crinkling between them, suddenly tethered to something in this void and hysterically certain that he’ll die for real if Gio lets go.

“I’m sixteen.” Leo’s voice wobbles. He doesn’t know what to react to first. He doesn’t understand how this is happening. He holds on. “I can say the fuck word if I want to, I’m practically an adult.”

Gio’s face does something it hurts to look at. His eyes are dark and sincere, the shape of them entirely familiar. There’s a warmth inside him that permeates the gloom. A star belonging to a much larger galaxy, but more significantly, belonging to the same crooked constellation Leo belongs to.

I know you, he thinks, surprised by the truth of it. I do. Where have you been?

“We’re going home,” Gio says, the certainty in his voice like one of those huge stones a river parts around, unmoved by the currents and crashing water. “I know the way out. Don’t worry about it. Close your eyes.”   

The worst thing that could happen has already happened, Leo thinks. There’s no reason not to trust him. There’s nothing left to lose. He closes his eyes.

He feels himself drawn in, tucked against the built-in armor of a turtle chest, head resting on a broad shoulder. He’s been carried like this a million times before. He didn’t think it would happen again. Somewhere along the line, he’d been picked up for the last time and put down for the last time, and now he’s here, where no one who loves him can reach him, to scoop him up when he falls asleep on the sofa and take him to bed.

But Gio lifts him up like he’s still a kid. The Krang is bellowing hateful promises in between the grating shrieks of pain, promises of what he’ll do when he gets his hands on Leo, but all of that is far away. 

Leo isn’t afraid anymore. He isn’t going to be a ghost.

He’s pretty sure he’s going home.   

[nyaskitten]

Dragons Rising Episodes, But Only the Most Iconic Quotes

Episode 1: "The Merge, Part 1"; "I think that mask belongs to me!" (Or Ras' "You failed me... I do not like that.)

Episode 2: "The Merge, Part 2"; "Soon, Imperium will have enough Dragon Power to rule over all the Merged Realms!

Episode 3: "Crossroads Carnival"; "In first place is… Chef Grab-Barg! Congratulations!"

Episode 4: "Beyond Madness"; "Kai, you're still alive!" "I made a terrible mistaaaake!" "You brought the dragons right to us? I'M GONNA KILL YOU!"

Episode 5: "Writers of Destiny"; "Is that Euphrasia?" "She's abandoned her scrolls. This is not our way, what is she doing!?" "She's saving us."

Episode 6: "Return to Imperium"; "I hate fireproof monsters!"

Episode 7: "Mindless Beasts"; "I love studying at school!" "But protecting innocents is also cool!" "Sound off!" "One, two!" "Sound off!" "

Episode 8: "I Will Be the Danger"; "Fa-mi-ly... family!"

Episode 9: "The Calm Inside"; "In life, there will be times of chaos, when everything around you is a raging storm. When there is no calm outside of you, you must find the calm inside of you."

Episode 10: "The Battle of the Second Monastery"'; "Do not free me."

Episode 11: "The Temple of the Dragon Cores"; "Nope, you've upgraded to Wyldfyre!" "Upgraded? Really?"

Episode 12: "Gangs of the Sea"; "Destroy the interloper!"

Episode 13: "Wyldly Inappropriate"; "No Core for you! No Core for you! No Core for you!"

Episode 14: "The Last Djinn"; "Uh, okay! I wish for you to help us kick these Howlers in their butts!" "Your wish is yours to keep!"

Episode 15: "They Call it Doom"; "As your teacher, it's vital I instill in you the knowledge that all life is important." "But that's Rapton." "HEY!"

Episode 16: "Land of Lost Things": "This Master Wu guy sounds like he has a lot of smart ideas. I might wanna hear more of them. Maybe."

Episode 17: "The Administration"; "Those two tricked us! They weren't authorized!" "They gave us... Fake forms!" "Ah, wait. We have to fill out trick-by-fake-forms forms first." "No time. Just fill out a defaulting-of-paperwork-to-a-later-date form."

Episode 18: "Absolute Power"; "You and I both know the dragon energy that has kept your kingdom running smoothly will not last forever." "If that were true, which it most certainly is not, what could an outlander such as you do about it?"

Episode 19: "We Are All Dragons"; "NOT THE SHOULDER PAD STORAGE! NOOOOOOOOOHOHOHOOOOO"

Episode 20: "The Power Within"; "And all you traitors to your Empress. You are no better than the ninja! No one will rule this kingdom but me, and I will destroy everyone who stands in my way!"

Episode 21: "The Blood Moon"; "The Blood Moon is coming... The Blood Moon is coming!"

Episode 22: "Shattered Dreams"; "It is a corrupted, advanced form of your beloved fighting technique, that has been long banned, forgotten! Shatterspin!"

Episode 23: "Beyond the Phantasm Cave"; "I've been here for hours, and nothing! Why do I have visions of everything that can go wrong, but none about how to make it right? Source Dragons, are you out there? Can you hear me? Is this just a game to you? I need answers!"

Episode 24: "Force From the East"; "We cannot ignore the threat the Blood Moon brings. With the realms now merged, the Five will have more to conquer, more to destroy. And all of our work, defeating them, banishing them, will be for naught, our legacy meaningless! We must train them."

Episode 25: "The Spell at the Waterfall"; "I await your instructions, master."

Episode 26: "To Mysterium"; "Faster! Quicker! Mental Strength! You can do this!"

Episode 27: "Fugitives From Madness"; "Stop thinking about you, start thinking about Countershot!" "The game we made up in dad's blacksmith shop? Wow, miss those days, not having to worry about saving the world..." "And who was your best Countershot partner?"

Episode 28: "Secrets of the Wyldness"; "UGH! My name is Jordana! You ninja, especially the one you call Sora, are my sworn enemies!" "Still not ringing a bell." "AHH!!!"

Episode 29: "The Forest of Spirits"; "You could be something special, too bad the ninja hold you back." "No, they don't, they're making me better!" "Then how come you aren't any better? I stopped you as easily now as the first time we met! I was weak like you once. My master found me, and taught me the most important thing in this world... strength! Maybe one day you'll find a true master, who can teach you the same."

Episode 30: "Rising Ninja"; "How dare you? You cut and run before you got the other four out!" "You will not speak to me like that, Nokt. You owe your freedom to me. I expect loyalty. And my control device will guarantee I get it... and you! You failed to keep the portal open Jordana! Do you hear me Jorda- AUGH!"

Episode 31: "The Shape of Motion"; "Cease Nokt. This is training, not war." "Everything is war." "Save your anger for when it matters."

Episode 32: "Enter the City of Temples"; "Oh yikes, a real ninja! Let us flee!" "That hurt my feelings!"

Episode 33: "They Gather for the Feast"; "One night before the new Tournament of the Sources, I'm reminded of what the Cragling poet Rockworth once said. Bwah bwahhh mbwhaw mbwahh. Bwahb bwahbhabwah"

Episode 34: "Inside the Maze"; "I am limber, I am loose... I am in trouble."

Episode 35: "United We Fall"; "Arin and his pet dragon, just like I suspected. Did your master Lloyd set you up for this?"

Episode 36: "Truth and Lies"; "Ras says everyone spends too much time trying to find harmony. But you can't passively wait for the world to harmonize, so you must take from life what you need."

Episode 37: "The Sword Shatters"; "Hey hey hey, stop! The game's already over!" "Lloyd, look out!" "RAHAHAHAHA!" "Ack ack, augh, aughhhh." (he died)

Episode 38: "Clues and Suspects"; "It was smart of Bleckt to hide the room's access in this old thing. No way Roby was gonna touch a rotary phone."

Episode 39: "The Final Game"; "In light of this, I declare the victory ceremony canceled! Security!" "In light of that, I un-cancel it! Finally, the powers I've always deserved."

Episode 40: "Elements of Betrayal"; "Get back here! Those elemental powers belong to me! RAHH!!"

[uzumaki-rebellion]

A.N.: Content Warning, Blood, Violence, Religious Imagery.

"By the Christians, it is written

That in the black Myrthian age

There existed an addiction to blood, blood, blood, blood

Drink it up, fifty years 'bout enough, time to come back

They want to call the bluff

Ok then, time to come back (what up)"

Sam Waymon & Clipping – "Blood of the Fang"

Celeste stood in the doorway of her bathroom, stupefied.

Terry's red-rimmed eyes held her planted there until her brain-fog lifted by digesting the words he spoke.

He wanted to keep their baby.

She groaned internally as her acceptance of the lexicon shift—fetus to baby—snagged a hold in her heart and mind. Had he been a human and said those words, she would've shouted with joy and hugged him. Instead, she glimpsed the fangs in his parted lips, noticed how the lateral incisors of his bottom teeth were sharp, too.

Beastly.

That's how he appeared standing there, blocking her path out of the bathroom. Is that what their child would look like? A ferocious creature preying on people?

Terry's eyes darted from her face, and he took a deep breath. When he spoke to her again, his fangs retracted. The illusion had forever been broken. She could never see him as a human again.

"Please…keep my child. I'm sorry for putting hands on you…that wasn't right. It was uncalled for…I reacted blindly to Abai being here."

"They said they'd be waiting for you if you showed up again. They had a message for you, too. You can't hide from them forever."

"Pack some things. You're coming with me," he said.

"I'm not going anywhere with you."

Terry gripped her arms tight.

"Do you want to be here at nightfall when a deadly vampire clan shows up looking for me? Huh? They probably have one of their human familiars watching this house right now, ready to contact them because they've seen my face."

"They said they would protect me and the baby—"

"They don't give a damn about you!"

His voice reverberated in a tone not human. Celeste's eyes watered with fear. Terry stroked her arms gently and pressed his forehead against hers.

"You are carrying something they have been dreaming about for centuries. Our baby is their bargaining chip for something your human mind can't even conceive. If this child can go full term and be born…they will have no further use for you."

"If this child goes full term? You don't think she can?"

"No human woman has ever carried a damphir. There's no telling if your body will reject the foreign vampire genes along the way. I am a Daywalker, a vampire of the rarest kind. That means our child will be one, too. They will use her and kill you."

His eyes told no lies.

"Why do you want me to keep her? You make it sound like her life is beyond danger. Why would you want to bring a child into the world to face harm? Hmm? Why risk my life?"

Terry's eyes watered.

"She's my only chance to have a family that I can keep with me if she makes it through. She'll live a long, long time Celeste…and I won't be alone anymore. I love you, and if I can keep a part of you around to cherish like the other family members I've lost…then she's worth fighting for."

"What about me, Terry? Will you throw me away once you have what you want?"

"I want you both," he pleaded.

Celeste's eyes welled up. The pain and yearning in his voice weakened her. He cradled her face.

"I have to hide you in a safe place."

"Where will we go?"

"I need to get you to Mémé's place."

"We should take all of her things with us then."

"Go pack a few days' worth of clothes. I'll put her stuff in my truck bed. It has a retractable cover over it. Hurry!"

"Her boxes are in my sewing room, and some of her papers are on my desk in there."

Terry went to retrieve his great-great-granddaughter's belongings, and she ran into her bedroom and threw clothes and underwear into a small travel suitcase. She dumped toiletries from the bathroom into a plastic baggie and froze when the doorbell rang. It was only five thirty in the evening. The sun didn't set completely until seven thirty.

"Answer it," Terry said.

He stayed near her bookshelf.

Celeste held her breath. She made out the figure behind the colored glass and sighed.

"Micah," she said.

She opened the door, and her relief poured out in a nervous laugh. Micah stared at her with concern.

"I came to check on you. Took the night off instead of wondering if you were okay."

Terry came from behind her and Micah's face grew tense.

"The clouds…" Terry said.

He opened the security door and stepped past Micah. Celeste looked up at the sky the way Terry did.

Dark, steel blue rain clouds blotted out the sunlight, turning the sky a menacing shade of impending doom.

"Ohmigod," Celeste said.

Micah tilted his head to look at them.

Streaks of lightning appeared like white spider veins flashing across the sky. A flock of unknown black birds flew in the sky within a giant circle.

"It's too late. The sun is hidden. I can't get you far enough away without them tracking us," Terry said.

He ran back into the house and grabbed Miss Irma's boxes. Celeste grabbed her suitcase.

"What's going on? Where are you going?" Micah asked, grabbing her hand.

"I can't explain. I'll call you if I can," she said.

Micah squeezed her hand.

"Duchess…tell me. The truth."

Terry carried two boxes at a time and collected Miss Irma's life on two trips.

"Celeste, we have to leave…now!" Terry said.

Rain threatened to fall. From the corner of her eye, she noticed a slow moving low fog filling up the street. Celeste shook uncontrollably, remembering what happened the last time she got caught in a fast-moving fog. She locked her front door. Micah stayed on her.

"Duchess!" Micah said, his eyes full of fear.

"I have to hide from some people. We thought we had time, but the sun is gone," she said.

She jumped into Terry's truck. Micah tried to open the passenger door and drag her out. Terry rushed forward and shoved him against the truck bed, his fangs bared and ready to tear the life out of her cousin.

"Terry, don't! He's our baby's family," she shouted.

Micah held his hands up to protect his face.

"I knew you weren't shit!" Micah spat out.

He wrenched his eyes away from Terry and looked at her.

"Go to St. Augustine's. Father Mbenga can hide you," Micah said. "It's church, though. I don't know if he can go in."

Terry released Micah's shirt and looked at her.

"I can ask him to invite you in again. Will that work?" Celeste asked.

"He invited me in before. It should still be safe for me to enter," Terry said.

"I'll follow you guys over there," Micah said.

He carefully backed away from Terry and fumbled with his keys to press his key fob. Terry climbed into his truck quickly and took them several blocks through the Quarter to hide in the fog. He drove with one eye on the road, and the other watching the surroundings. Celeste kept expecting the white van with ghouls to sideswipe them, preventing their escape.

"Where are the people?" Celeste asked.

The empty streets blanketed with fog were an anomaly. There should've been plenty of people still walking around and filling the Quarter with life. They headed north and parked in front of St. Augustine's. The church stood like a gothic rendering of salvation.

Terry jumped out of the truck first and ran to Celeste's passenger side, helping her get out. He held her hand tight and kept her near his side. Micah pulled up behind them and ran to the locked church doors. He banged on them and pulled out his smartphone.

"I'm calling the church office number," Micah said.

"Can we break in?" Celeste asked.

The fog swirled higher, covering them in a thick layer. Visibility diminished and with it, the dampening of sound all around them. Their voices sounded like they were in a closed vacuum. The acute silence and shroud of whiteness around them gave Celeste the sense that they had entered another dimension where only the three of them existed. Micah's voice became loud on his phone.

"Father Mbenga? It's Micah Profitt…I'm outside the church with my cousin Celeste and her…boyfriend. We need your help right now! Please let us into the sanctuary!"

The longest seven minutes held Celeste in a vise grip as they waited for the priest to open the church doors.

"What is happening?" Father Mbenga said, swinging one of the double doors open.

Micah grabbed Celeste's hand and pulled her inside first. They turned to look at Terry.

The father of her child looked so helpless standing there with uncertainty in his eyes. Celeste wanted him with her.

"Invite him in, Father Mbenga," Celeste said with a calm and firm tone.

She didn't want to take any chances.

"Come inside, son," Father Mbenga said.

Terry took a step forward.

Celeste locked eyes with him. She clutched the priest's arm.

"I need you to say 'I invite you inside'," Celeste insisted.

Father Mbenga looked confused, but he glanced at Terry and spoke the words.

"I invite you inside the house of the Lord. Will that do?"

Terry walked across the threshold.

Nothing happened. Celeste hugged him.

"What's going on here?" Father Mbenga asked.

Micah ushered the priest past the vestibule and into the main sanctuary. Father Mbenga flicked on more lights and they moved to the front pews. Celeste sat next to Terry and Micah perched across from them in another pew. The priest stood in front of the tabernacle.

"What do you need help with?" Father Mbenga asked.

"Duchess got herself mixed up with a vampire. She's pregnant by him," Micah said matter-of-factly.

Celeste put a hand over her face.

Father Mbenga, thankfully, didn't laugh them out of the church. He stared at Terry thoughtfully and took off his glasses. Pulling a handkerchief from the pocket of his slacks, the priest wiped the lenses carefully and then placed the round glasses back on his kind face.

"Show me," Father Mbenga said.

Terry stared at the priest, doubt clouding his expression.

"Show you?" Terry said.

"Yes."

Terry glanced at Celeste, unsure. Micah jumped up and slammed his right hand into his left.

"Will you show Father Mbenga what you are?!" Micah shouted.

Celeste gripped the edge of her seat, feeling uneasy. Terry stood and faced the priest. His body blocked her view of the shorter man.

"Mother Mary…Father of God!" the priest shrieked.

Celeste lowered her head. She knew exactly what Father Mbenga experienced. The confirmation of something otherworldly brought on feelings of terror. It knocked all previously held beliefs out of whack. Father Mbenga backed away from Terry and ran to the tabernacle. He gathered himself together and slowly turned to face Terry again. He held out a six-inch gold cross.

"You are an abomination…a scourge upon the earth…." Father Mbenga said.

Terry confronted the frightened priest and took the cross from his hand, placing it back on the tabernacle.

"That doesn't do what you think," Terry said.

"But this does!" Micah shouted.

Micah rushed behind Terry and choked him with a long, silver-linked chain. The skin on Terry's neck sizzled and blistered. Celeste screamed. The odor of burning vampire flesh sickened her.

Terry fell to his knees. He grabbed the chain, but it burned his fingers and he cried out in horrible pain.

"Micah! Stop it!" she screamed.

She ran to her cousin to pull the thick, five-foot long chain off of Terry, but Father Mbenga grabbed her arms and yanked her away.

"What the fuck are you doing?!"

Father Mbenga shouted at Terry.

"In the Holy Name of Jesus, I invoke the keys of St. Peter and the Church's authority…I bind each and every demon in and around Celeste Profitt and around us…in Jesus' name I bind them all, and I bind any demons supporting them, their evil leaders, and any minions of Satan…"

Father Mbenga's voice rose to a crescendo and blood drenched the silver chain slicing Terry's throat. Micah gained the upper hand and looked victorious wearing Terry down.

"Please…stop this…we came here for help to save me and my baby!"

"You won't have that vampire's baby, Duchess! It will destroy you and give these demons more evil to use!" Micah yelled.

Celeste stared at her cousin as if she'd never seen him before.

She truly hadn't.

Paralyzed with shock, Celeste could only watch helplessly as her beloved cousin tried to murder her lover.

"Micah…please…he's not what you think—"

"I tried to warn you, Duchess. Back in the Quarter, I told you to leave him alone."

Her eyes watered, and Micah's face blurred.

"My job is to spot these bloodsuckers…but you ran into his arms like a fool. Now look at 'cha," Micah panted, "Pregnant with a demon's seed."

"She's innocent," Celeste pleaded.

"She?" Micah said.

Terry slumped forward onto his stomach, weakened and damaged by the silver chain. He still breathed, but Celeste heard the gurgling of blood in his throat. Micah draped the chains around Terry's arms, binding them together behind his back.

"It's a girl," she said.

"Blasphemous," Father Mbenga spat at her.

He released her once Terry was no longer a threat. The priest had a wild look behind his glasses. Celeste knelt down near Terry.

"Get away from that unclean thing!" Father Mbenga barked.

Micah pulled her from Terry and glared at her.

"Trust me, Duchess, we know what we're doing," Micah urged.

The double doors of the church blasted open. Celeste and Micah whipped their heads toward the entrance.

The Deacon, Abai, stood at the entrance with his long black coat flared out behind him. His clan flanked him, gnashing their teeth and frustrated by the barrier. Abai's gaze stayed on Father Mbenga.

"Stupid little priest," Abai barked out. "Nothing you do will stop us from taking what we want."

Father Mbenga pointed at Abai.

"You are not welcome here! Evil cannot enter God's house without my permission."

"Celeste…dear sweet, Celeste. Invite us in and we will save our brother."

"I alone have the power to invite others into the House of God," Father Mbenga yelled with conviction.

"She is a member of this church, therefore, she too can invite us in, Father," Abai said.

Father Mbenga and Micah stared at Celeste. She could nearly smell the fear on them. Jerking away from Micah, she knelt down and tugged on the silver chain. Terry groaned. She lowered her face to his.

"Celeste, get away from here if you can…save yourself…save our baby…" he whispered in agony.

Two firm hands wrapped around Celeste's throat. Father Mbenga threw her against the tabernacle and she spun around to claw his face with her nails. He choked her again, squeezing the life from her and the baby.

"The fuck are you doing? Leave her alone!" Micah shouted.

Micah grabbed Father Mbenga's arm and yanked him away. The priest reached for his gold cross again and pulled it apart, revealing a sharp blade beneath. He stabbed Micah in the side.

"You lil bitch!" Micah said.

He staggered back and fell to his knees with blood gushing out of his abdomen. Slamming his hands over the wound, Micah glared at Father Mbenga.

"We're supposed to wait for the others to come and handle this…not attack my cousin. Are you fucking crazy?!" Micah shrieked in a weakened voice.

Celeste gasped for air and fought not to pass out. She crawled on her hands and knees toward the open entrance doors. If she couldn't trust humans not to kill her, she had to run from them it seemed.

Father Mbenga jumped on her back and circled his thick fingers around her neck once more.

"You're a filthy whore lying down with them!"

Father Mbenga banged her face against the floor as he strangled her. Celeste reached out her right hand. She could barely make out the shape of Abai standing at the entrance.

"Celeste! Say the words! Let us save you and the baby!" Abai shouted.

Abai's voice sounded stressed and, more importantly…afraid for her. Could Terry be wrong about him?

"I…I…I invite you all in…." Celeste gasped out.

The world spun into a graying darkness as she watched swift obsidian shadows whip past her. A blood-curdling scream rang out and broke off abruptly. She could breathe freely again. The soreness in her throat pounded with the rush of blood in her veins.

Micah whimpered and wept quietly behind her. She rolled over and sat up. Rubbing her neck, she waited for her eyesight to clear.

"Don't kill my cousin," she said.

Her voice came out low and almost unintelligible.

Twelve strikingly beautiful Black vampires stood around Micah and Terry. Evenly six males to six females, they all stared at the floor. Father Mbenga's lifeless body was a crumpled heap in the center of them. She knew it was lifeless because the priest's head sat ten-feet away upon the tabernacle with a look of shock on its bespeckled face, the dead mouth wide open and frozen with the final breath of life that came out a scream. Blood dripped down the side of the tabernacle in long vermillion streaks, with the bladed gold cross impaled down the center of his forehead.

Micah kept his hand jammed against his stab wound, his expression woozy from the blood loss.

Abai glanced over at her.

"Come here Celeste…free our brother from his chains," Abai demanded.

Micah shook his head at her.

"Duchess…don't help them. They want us dead! We're food to them…stay back!" Micah begged.

The vampire named Mia crouched down and dug her claws into his side, ripping Micah's wound further. His cries of pain echoed throughout the church. Mia licked his blood from her claws and stomped over to Celeste.

"The Deacon gave you a command…do it!" Mia said.

She slapped Celeste across the face, leaving another scar that would need time to heal like the last time they met. Celeste lashed out and punched Mia in her legs. Mia lifted her by the throat and held her high.

"Mia…put…her…down," Abai said.

Mia dropped Celeste to her wobbly feet and punched her in the gut, knocking a loud breath out of her. Dominique flew at Mia and shoved her face back.

"Don't you harm it. Keep your jealousy in check," Dominique hissed.

Abai reached out toward Celeste.

"Free him for us," Abai said, his tone stern.

"Promise not to hurt my cousin," Celeste said.

She rubbed her belly and the pain there almost caused her to pass out. All the other vampires except for Abai and Dominique snarled at her, their monstrous fangs gleaming from the lights inside the church.

"No harm will come to him," Abai said.

"Don't believe them, Duchess. Don't worry about me. I'm good with God…I can die in peace and receive my salvation. You won't if you listen to them," Micah said.

The unexpected loud thud on the roof forced their eyes toward the ceiling. Other loud poundings struck the roof in different places.

A large winged creature crashed through the roof and landed on top of the tabernacle. Celeste's blood ran cold and fear gripped her even more than being surrounded by a vampire clan. At least they looked somewhat human.

The thing on the tabernacle was the stuff of childhood nightmares.

A gargoyle.

Skin the color of mottled stone with horns protruding from its forehead, the monstrosity had sharp fangs just as deadly looking as the vampires. To Celeste's catholic eyes, it looked like a grotesque mockery of an angel turned inside out. No genitalia was present.

"Gadreel," Abai said, with a touch of disdain. "Still simping for God, I see. Tell me forgotten brother…do you really think the most high…the most hypocritical Lord… will let you Old Ones return to heaven once you've done your penance for ten thousand years more?"

Abai glanced at the ceiling, listening to the movement above them. He talked tough, but Celeste sensed apprehension.

"You, Arakiel, Baraqiel, Kokabeel, Danuiel, and the others…don't you get weary of being used to go against us, your equally fallen siblings?" Abai sneered.

"WISHETACHIHU ĀYITAGEŠIMI!" Gadreel shouted.

Celeste and Micah both screamed and slammed their hands over their ears, the pain from the sound of the gargoyle speaking making their eardrums bleed.

"Gadreel, there are humans here. You can't speak the language of heaven without harming their weak ears. Aren't you breaking the rules of your penance? You vowed to protect them, remember?"

Gadreel focused his attention on Celeste. His deep-set eyes looked like pewter stones.

"Leave us, human woman. There is no need for us to deal with you until that sin in your womb has been born," Gadreel said.

He spoke to her in English, his voice sounding like the creaking of giant ancient doors that should remain closed. Celeste rose to her feet and used the pews to help keep her balance with all the anxious trembling she experienced in her limbs. Her stomach churned with so much fear she thought she might puke, but she had to be strong for her baby.

She started weeping.

Keeping the baby became a top priority. Father Mbenga turning on her, calling her a whore and even her own cousin calling the little one inside her a demon seed, shored up her resolve to keep it. Her upbringing in the church taught her that God had a purpose for everything in her life. Celeste chose to have faith of a mustard seed at that moment.

Stumbling over to Terry, she dropped weakly on her knees and pulled apart the knot in the chains, freeing him from bondage. She tossed the chain on the pew and tried to lift him up. Mia pushed her away and turned Terry over.

"Terry…Terry…" Mia murmured with soothing affection.

His eyelids fluttered and opened slowly. He looked up at Mia, who stroked his hair and touched his throat that clotted with blood. The woman had love in her eyes. She kissed him on the lips. Celeste's stomach tightened.

"Duchess?" Terry said.

He pushed Mia back, his eyes darting around, looking for her. Mia snarled, her fangs wet with saliva.

"I'll fucking kill you!" Mia shrieked.

The vampire lunged at Celeste, and all hell broke loose in the sanctuary.

Faster than the human eye could follow, more gargoyles crashed through the roof all over the church. Abai and the other vampires battled the gargoyles, but Celeste could not follow their unnatural speed fully. She caught glimpses of shadows or felt dark streaks moving, like the buzzing of mosquitoes flapping past her ears when she couldn't swat them fast enough. She sensed the whooshing of air above her and witnessed pews and the tabernacle crashing to pieces, destroyed with all the tussling and tearing of flesh. Blood rained around her from the vampires and gargoyles that were injured. Crimson blood dripped everywhere along with a dark orange fluid that had to be from the gargoyle's wounds.

Under great duress, Micah crawled to her, and she helped him get on his feet. They limped together toward the double doors. She paused in her steps to rest because Micah was so heavy. Glancing back, she caught a flash sighting of Terry sprinting toward her. Gadreel flew at him with an outstretched wingspan ten-feet across and lifted Terry off the ground. Terry used his claws and razor-sharp teeth to rip chunks out of the gargoyle's shoulder. Other gargoyles flew above them, fighting vampires who kept attacking even while they were being shaken like rags back and forth high above her. The horror flying about the church looked like a hideous medieval painting of Dante's inferno come to life.

Mia leaped high into the air and landed on Gadreel's back to help Terry knock him into a wall.

"Get out of here, Celeste!" Terry screamed.

Another gargoyle grabbed Mia mid-air, ripping her face to shreds. Gadreel burst through the rafters carrying Terry, making another gaping hole in the roof.

Celeste couldn't help him.

She could only help herself and her cousin.

Turning back to the entrance doors, Celeste's blood pressure dropped, and she passed out on the floor.

Micah toppled right over her.

Chapter 14 HERE.

Masterlist.

Taglist:

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@kindofaintrovert

@thedondada05

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[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

@zepskies

I've been waiting ALL week for this!

Dean has a problem. Looking into her eyes, soulful and brown, the slope of her nose and her full lips, parted with shock… 

It's not a problem Dean, (the gun is obviously BUT) she is beautiful and you will love her and I will cry at your wedding.

He nods, and his smile falls with a weary sigh. The hard part about that is he doesn’t feel much guilt about what he’s done. At the same time, he does, and the conflict churns in his stomach. He knew what kind of man Roman was. He was the kind of soldier that could’ve filled Colonel Sanderson’s shoes one day. A fellow soldier under Dean’s command...

Dean no. No feeling bad for saving your girl and for killing the "sack of shit in human clothes."

Also I didn't notice the Colonel Sanderson thing before and now all I can think about is KFC lol.😂 Which is not to take away from how good this fic is or how well it's written. It's just me lol.

Dean grimaces, but he stays quiet. He turns to the woman and holds a finger over his lips. She stares back at him in apprehension. He begins to creep slowly around the hill, but she grabs onto his wrist. For a second, she looks just as surprised as him by the reflexive action. Then, she shakes her head at him. Don’t go out there, her eyes say. Dean smiles, and he gives her a reassuring wink. He gently removes her hand and gestures at her to stay where she is. He army crawls up the side of the hill. It gives him a vantage point to watch his men, who approach just a few feet down below. 

Oh goodness she is already so protective of him and oh my word the wink had me melting lol.

I also don't think that I mentioned this before, but I really like how you wove in the other characters in the show. Seeing Benny and Cas show up just made me so happy.

Dean knows the position he’s put his own men in. He doesn’t blame them for following the Colonel’s orders. He just hopes they can forgive him for what he’s about to do. He leaps off the edge of the hill with a yell and brings Benny with him to the ground. He sweeps Cas’s legs out from underneath him, then tosses a punch that lands on the corner of Benny’s chin. He kicks Benny’s gun away, and wrestles Cas until his pistol falls from his hand. The three men scrap and trade blows, until Dean is the only one left standing. His men are groaning on the dusty ground, slowly picking themselves up.

Oh my word seeing that fight in my head, um... YES PLEASE.

And the loyalty?! The love for their friend?! The "Goodbye brother."? It's so good.

“Kim…mila,” he attempts. She guides Mato closer and grabs Dean by his cheeks with one hand. “Kimmí.” “Kimmí,” he repeats with his cheeks squished. His face is starting to warm up, and not altogether in embarrassment. “Mila,” she says with a nod. “Mila,” Dean says. “Kimmímila.”

She's squishing his face! That is so cute, oh my stars. Plus I am cackling at how long it took him to be able to say her name.

“But my mother had a dream before I was born,” Mila says. “She saw beautiful wings, and said I would have a free mind. When I grew, and wanted to spend my days with horses more than cooking and sewing things, she didn’t call me free. She called me stubborn.” Her face begins to fall. “Maybe too stubborn.”

I absolutely love this! I really love it when writers pick the names of their characters based on the meaning behind it. And the fact that you gave the meaning of her name a backstory of her mom having a dream and the butterfly meaning that Mila "would have a free mind" is just so perfect for her. Because she is stubborn and she does have "a free mind" by being rebellious and strong, by being a strong female character who does not conform to the whims of what other people deem to be appropriate for her. Also it was funny that Dean thought she was like a "lioness."

"Fair enough," he says, glancing over at her. “I think my dad thought the fighting would end with the war, but, uh...it never really ends, does it?”

This is a really wonderful line, that the war "never really ends." It really fits this story and honestly it really fits the entire early history of the United States when it was acquiring territory and embracing the "manifest destiny" ideals.

Dean enjoys listening to her stories. He likes what he learns about her, but also, he just likes the sound of her voice, smooth and steady, almost calming. He thinks she might like the sound of his too, the way she’s smiled at him, laughed with him, glanced at him when she thinks he’s not looking.

Okay, the whole part where she is explaining things about her life and her culture was so sweet. Them opening up with one another is just so soft and a little fluffy and I'm so glad that they got to have those gentle moments with one another. Not to mention this bit where Dean admits how much he likes listening to her, is just so good lol.

And I thought it was really on brand for him to be a little upset that she doesn't completely trust him yet, even though that he killed one of his men. But he's got to learn to be patient... and then propose. LOL.

At the very least, the way she looks at him now is softer than that first day.

I think my soul has left my body. This is so cute.

She nods back at him and pretends not to watch when he sits up with a groan, stretching and bending his arms high behind his head. He removed his uniform jacket to sleep. It allows her to see every dip of male muscle that his plain white shirt clings to, even in the long sleeves. Her gaze furtively runs over the broad shoulders, the tapered waist, then back up to his half-bearded face, defined by a strong jaw and dark brows. The sun catches on his brown hair and teases the ends of it golden. She would never admit it, but he’s not unpleasant to look at. 

Don't be afraid to admit it Mila, we all know how good he is to look at. And why shouldn't you look at your future husband? 💍

A breath gets trapped in her throat as she once again looks between his warm hand closed over her smaller one, and his face. In the small space between them, there is a different kind of tension than before. Mila can’t tell what the man is thinking when he looks at her like that, but she doesn’t like it.

Oh my sweet goodness, the TENSION!!

This is so good my friend and I am so excited for what the future of this series holds and am praying that it doesn't end in death!😬💗

The Honorable Choice - Part 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC 

Summary: June 1872. Captain Dean Winchester of the U.S. Cavalry is tasked with one job: break a wild mustang. He just didn’t expect the woman who infiltrates his camp, intent on freeing her tribe’s horse.

AN: “Getting to know you, getting to know all about you…” ⬅️ If you’ve seen The King & I, then you’ll probably be singing that line in your head like I do.

Disclaimer: I’ve done extensive research for this one, both on the American Indian Lakota tribe, and on American history during this time in the late 1800s (AKA: the Old West, during the American Indian Wars and the Sioux Wars). Of course, one of my main goals is to avoid inaccuracies, both historical and cultural.

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: @jacklesversebingo Western AU

Song Inspo: The Spirit Soundtrack

Word Count: 3.1K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, protective Dean, historical tidbits, fluff

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🎙️ Listen to the podfic version here!

Part 2: Death & Sacrifice

Dean falls out of his saddle with a yell, landing hard in the grass. The impact knocks the air out of his chest and the hat off his head, not to mention the pain that rattles down his back.

“Son of a bitch,” he wheezes, while trying to get back up.

The woman jumps down from the mustang’s back and all but leaps on Dean. Straddling his waist and grabbing a fistful of his collar, she lets out a battle cry and raises a small knife at him. It’s probably no more than two inches long.

Dean may be on the ground with a smarting forehead, but he’s still got the upper hand. He grabs her knife-wielding arm and whips out his pistol from his belt. Her eyes widen, and she stills above him. The gun lies between them, aimed for her chest. They’re both breathing hard.

Dean has a problem.

Looking into her eyes, soulful and brown, the slope of her nose and her full lips, parted with shock… 

He just can’t do it.

His finger eases off the trigger of his gun, and he lowers it to the ground beside him.

“I told you,” he says. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Her head tilts as she stares at his gun, then at him. She relaxes somewhat, and she backs off of him, sliding from his lap down to the grass beside him. Her closed fist with the knife comes to rest at her side. She gives him a look of wary bewilderment.

“You are a strange man,” she says.

Dean has to laugh a little, smiling at her afterward.

“I guess so,” he replies.

Her brows furrow. “You killed one of your own…for me?”

He nods, and his smile falls with a weary sigh. The hard part about that is he doesn’t feel much guilt about what he’s done. At the same time, he does, and the conflict churns in his stomach. He knew what kind of man Roman was. He was the kind of soldier that could’ve filled Colonel Sanderson’s shoes one day. A fellow soldier under Dean’s command...

And a sack of shit in human clothes.

Dean leans back on his hands in the grass and slides his legs out long. His stare falls to the earth between his boots. The ground is soft underneath him. Maybe it rained this morning. 

“Yeah, that’s gonna make it tough when I go back,” he says. “At best, that’s a court martial. At worst…”

The Lakota woman frowns, her dark brows nearly meeting in the middle as she considers him. He wonders what she sees when she looks at him.

“Tell you what,” Dean said. “Give yourself and your horse a rest tonight. I’ll go back and tell them I lost you in the canyon.”

Her eyes widen further in surprise. He can’t blame her for it. He’s surprising himself every time he opens his mouth.

“Will they kill you?” she asks.

Dean shrugs. “Nah, I’ll be fine.”

She levels him with a firmer look, one that demands the truth.

His nonchalance wanes, and he sighs.

“They might,” he says.

She shakes her head. She seems to deliberate over something, but eventually she comes to a decision. Just when she opens her mouth to speak, a gunshot rings out and hits the ground not far from their feet. A warning.

The sound of hooves thundering on the earth reach them before they look up. Two horses gallop towards them in the distance, their riders wearing blue uniforms.

They both tense up, but Dean is the first one to move. He grabs her arm and helps her stand along with him. They scramble back and lead the horses by their reins further into the trees. They find a denser patch and a raised hill to crouch down and hide behind.

The mustang is too tired to go very far, but Baby is already making anxious sounds, protective of her rider.

“Shhh,” Dean whispers, and runs a soothing hand over her side. He leads her to lay down with her legs tucked underneath her.

The Lakota manages to do the same with the mustang after whispering to him softly in her language. There’s a trust between them, Dean realizes. They have a connection that seems to mirror his own with his horse. He doesn’t know how he didn’t see it before.

“Captain!” Benny calls out.

Dean grimaces, but he stays quiet. He turns to the woman and holds a finger over his lips. She stares back at him in apprehension. He begins to creep slowly around the hill, but she grabs onto his wrist. For a second, she looks just as surprised as him by the reflexive action. Then, she shakes her head at him.

Don’t go out there, her eyes say.

Dean smiles, and he gives her a reassuring wink. He gently removes her hand and gestures at her to stay where she is. He army crawls up the side of the hill. It gives him a vantage point to watch his men, who approach just a few feet down below. 

“Captain Winchester!” Cas calls next.

“We don’t want to have to come and get you, Dean. Come on,” Benny says. He does sound reluctant, for his part. His voice grows more somber when he says, “Colonel’s given us orders to bring you and the girl back…dead or alive.”

Dean knows the position he’s put his own men in. He doesn’t blame them for following the Colonel’s orders. He just hopes they can forgive him for what he’s about to do.

He leaps off the edge of the hill with a yell and brings Benny with him to the ground. He sweeps Cas’s legs out from underneath him, then tosses a punch that lands on the corner of Benny’s chin. He kicks Benny’s gun away, and wrestles Cas until his pistol falls from his hand. The three men scrap and trade blows, until Dean is the only one left standing. His men are groaning on the dusty ground, slowly picking themselves up.

Dean’s heaving for breath as well as he leans back against the side of the hill. Despite that momentary victory, he knows what they all know: that this fight isn’t going to end until either they’re dead, or he’s dead.

“Where’s the girl, Dean?” Benny says. He implores him to see sense. “We take her back with us, we can smooth all this over with the Colonel. All of it, even Roman.” 

Dean lets out a deep breath, but he shakes his head.

“Can’t do that, Benny,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

There’s a question circling in his friend’s eyes, but after a beat, Benny seems to know the answer to it. He picks up his gun from the ground. Just like Dean once did, the Lieutenant now has a choice to make.

He shares a heavy look with Cas. The two of them nod, before they focus back on Dean.

Benny’s hand falls, and he stows his gun.

“You died today,” Benny says. “We found your body somewhere in the canyon. Your horse too.”

Dean nods, with something of a smile. He supposes faking his death is the only option now. He rips the badge off his uniform jacket and tosses it to Benny.

“There’s your proof,” he says.

Dean shares a grim nod of respect with Cas while Benny examines the torn patch denoting a captain’s rank.

“Take care of each other,” Dean says.

Benny’s head raises, and he meets Dean with a somber gaze.

“Goodbye, brother.”

Dean doesn’t return to her until the men are out of sight through the trees. She’s still hiding along with the resting horses, waiting for him. That alone surprises him. It would bring a small smile to his face, if the weight of that goodbye didn’t feel so heavy on his shoulders.

He reaches out a hand for her. It takes her a moment to consider it, but she accepts his offer.

He helps her to her feet, after which, she quickly pulls her hand back. She’s wary of his touch, her face guarded when she looks up at him. Dean supposes he can’t blame her, even if it does strike a nerve. After what he just did for her…

His face becomes stoic, and he turns away to grab his hat from the dusty ground. “We should probably head out.”

She nods and calls to her horse to encourage him to his feet. Despite himself, Dean can't help but be curious. How did this girl manage to tame that wild beast?

“Does he have a name?” he asks.

“Mato,” she replies.

“Mato,” Dean echoes. “Does that mean something? You know, in your language.”

She eyes him wryly, brushing her hand over Mato’s hide.

“It means angry, like a bear,” she says.

Dean snorts. “Yeah, good name.”

He remembers his bruised side (and ego) from when the mustang threw him off his back.

Dean watches her with another realization as she gracefully mounts the horse. Baby has gotten up to her feet as well, already nudging the back of his arm with her snout. He rubs her nose in affection.

Then he turns to climb up onto her back, settling his feet into the stirrups and loosely grabbing the reins. He follows his companion’s lead farther into the forest, but he guides his horse to fall into step beside hers.

“Will you tell me your name now?” he asks. “Think we’ve been through enough together at this point, don’t you think?”

She considers it with a tilt of her head. She looks over at him with a small smile.

“Kimmímila,” she says. The syllables roll off her tongue effortlessly.

Dean raises his brows. “Kim…Kimmeela.”

She shakes her head at him, her lips pursing.

“Kimmímila.”

Lord help him, but he tries his best. His brows furrow.

“Kim…mila,” he attempts. She guides Mato closer and grabs Dean by his cheeks with one hand.

“Kimmí.”

“Kimmí,” he repeats with his cheeks squished. His face is starting to warm up, and not altogether in embarrassment.

“Mila,” she says with a nod.

“Mila,” Dean says. “Kimmímila.”

He’s treated to her smile, warm and true. She releases him, her gaze flitting over his face. Then she keeps riding. Dean grins to himself.

“Think I’m gonna call you Mila,” he says. Make it easier on myself.

She even laughs, a honeyed sound. “Yes, my father does too.”

“What does it mean? Your name.”

“In your language?” she says, in a tone that teases him back. She becomes thoughtful as she searches for the word. “It means…butterfly.”

“Really?” Dean remarks. She doesn’t strike him as a butterfly.

More like a lioness, he thinks, only somewhat holding back his grin.

She gives him some side-eye, despite her amusement.

“You think it does not suit me,” she observes.

“Well, I didn't say that—”

“I don’t think so either,” she admits. “There are many things that don’t suit me.”

Dean chuckles. He can imagine that.

“But my mother had a dream before I was born,” Mila says. “She saw beautiful wings, and said I would have a free mind. When I grew, and wanted to spend my days with horses more than cooking and sewing things, she didn’t call me free. She called me stubborn.” Her face begins to fall. “Maybe too stubborn.”

Dean offers her a rueful, sympathetic look. “Yeah, I get it. My brother always said I was damn hardheaded,” he says. “…Maybe we’ve got more in common than we thought, huh?”

Mila’s smile returns, however slightly.

“You have a brother?” she asks.

“Oh, yeah. He’s a lawyer, so he’s more needed back home,” Dean replies.

Damn. He really does miss his bookish little brother.

He explains to her about his family, his brother and mother who still live in Lawrence, and how he joined the army, in part to honor his father.

“What happened to him?” she asks.

“He died…in some cornfield near Sharpsburg, Maryland, fighting the Confederacy,” he replies, heaving a breath.

"Con...federacy?" she questions.

"The South," Dean explains. "See, most of our southern states thought they should be their own country, letting slaves plow their fields and mind their kids. I may have lived on a farm, but my father always paid his workers. He fought for the Union."

"So you fought among yourselves, over land that did not belong to you," Mila points out.

Dean falls silent. After a little while, he concedes her point with an incline of his head.

"Fair enough," he says, glancing over at her. “I think my dad thought the fighting would end with the war, but, uh...it never really ends, does it?”

Her expression of curiosity fades, turning more solemn.

“No,” she agrees. “…I am sorry for your father.”

Dean's a little surprised to hear that from her, but he nods his thanks. They continue to talk as the sun begins to set in the west. When it dips behind the canyon, they stop to make camp for the night, and he helps her catch a rabbit to roast on the fire they build together.

That night over the meal, she slowly opens up to him. He learns that she’s an only child, though she has a sibling-like bond with her older cousin, Šóta. She spends most of her days planting or harvesting their crops, depending on the season, as well as sewing, painting, helping the elders of her tribe with tasks, and helping her mother and aunt cook.

When the rabbit is gone, she unbinds her long, thick hair and untangles it while she speaks. She explains that the Lakota are just one of many tribes. There are six other bands of Sioux who live in this region. Along with the Dakota and the Nakota, they are the “Seven Council Fires” who have made the Great Plains their home for generations.

She tells him about the way her tribe lives, caring for one another, giving the land back as much as they take, and letting it rest. The men hunt and protect the village from the outside, but the women protect the inside, their way of life.

Most of all, Mila tells him, she loves caring for the horses. She goes out and rides whenever she can duck out of her mother’s watchful eye.

Dean enjoys listening to her stories. He likes what he learns about her, but also, he just likes the sound of her voice, smooth and steady, almost calming. He thinks she might like the sound of his too, the way she’s smiled at him, laughed with him, glanced at him when she thinks he’s not looking.

She still picks a spot as far away from him as she can to sleep though. She keeps the fire pit in between them. He even catches sight of her knife, hidden in the hand she tucks underneath her cheek. Evidently, she doesn’t fully trust him just yet.

It annoys him at first, considering how many times he’s saved her already. How much he’s sacrificed just to get them this far…

Until he remembers how they met. He remembers the disdain and anger in her brown eyes, then the mistrust, and the fear hidden underneath. He thinks of every experience she’s likely had so far with the U.S. Military, and anyone else who looks like him.

Dean settles down on the ground and stares up at the innumerable stars in a raven sky. He’s exhausted, but his thoughts don’t let him rest for a while. 

At the very least, the way she looks at him now is softer than that first day.

In the morning, Mila watches the strange man wake.

He blinks and rubs his bleary eyes, yawning, groaning at the sun’s brightness like a child. She hides her smile by bowing her head over the apple she’s cutting with her knife. The orchards span wide across the forest, and soon he’ll find two yellow-red apples beside his head.

His brows raise at them, then he looks up at Mila sitting with her legs crossed behind the small fire pit. The wood there is just ash and blackened remains now, but it still carries the smell of burning.

“Morning,” he greets.

She nods back at him and pretends not to watch when he sits up with a groan, stretching and bending his arms high behind his head. He removed his uniform jacket to sleep. It allows her to see every dip of male muscle that his plain white shirt clings to, even in the long sleeves.

Her gaze furtively runs over the broad shoulders, the tapered waist, then back up to his half-bearded face, defined by a strong jaw and dark brows. The sun catches on his brown hair and teases the ends of it golden.

She would never admit it, but he’s not unpleasant to look at. 

Last night, she declined his offer to travel with her until she reaches her tribe safely, but he was insistent. Again, strange.

So here she is, with him. Here they are. 

Dean turns to see the horses grazing nearby. Mato no longer has the saddle and bridle his men put on him. He looks rested and at ease. He even whinnies at Baby, tossing his head a little. She answers him and flicks her tail. They continue eating together.

Dean smiles, then grabs an apple. He raises it to her in thanks before he takes a large bite. Its juices run down the corner of his mouth, and he wipes at it with the back of his hand. Mila can’t help but be drawn to the sight.

She tears her eyes away when he looks over at her.

“We have a long way to go. Three days, if the weather is good,” she says, continuing to carve pieces of her apple to eat. “We will know we are close when we reach the river.”

Dean nods in understanding. With a grunt, he gets to his feet and takes another bite out of his breakfast. She doesn’t expect the way he approaches her with a hand outstretched. She looks up at it, then at his expectant face.

“Come on. Let’s hit the road then,” he says.

Mila considers his offer for another moment. He seems to be making this a habit. Amused, she wonders if this is just kindness, or if the women of his people aren’t allowed to stand without a man’s help.

She pockets her knife, swipes her braided hair over her shoulder, and slips her hand into his, allowing him to help her to her feet. When she gets there, he’s closer than he should be.

A breath gets trapped in her throat as she once again looks between his warm hand closed over her smaller one, and his face. In the small space between them, there is a different kind of tension than before. Mila can’t tell what the man is thinking when he looks at her like that, but she doesn’t like it.

And at the same time, she does.

She takes back her hand, and she goes to the horses. She firmly ignores how her heart gallops, even as she rubs at her chest like it’s an ache that can be soothed.

She doesn’t hear Dean’s unsteady breath, nor does she see the way his green eyes follow her.

AN: *rubs hands together* Well, here they are! It's all starting to come together. What did you think of Dean's decision?

Coming up next, we have the final part: some action, some fluff, and some potentially perilous situations for Mila and Dean...

Next Time:

“Yeah, about that…I’m thinking your tribe doesn’t take very well to outsiders,” he says. “White men in particular.”

Mila presses her lips together. He can tell she’s been thinking the same thing, but she turns to him with a determined set to her features.

“I will protect you,” she says.

Dean frowns. He doesn’t like the sound of that. On one hand, it warms him that she seems to really mean it. On the other hand, he doesn’t want to know what it’ll take for her to protect him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks.

She turns her face away and doesn’t seem to want to answer at first.

“Mila…”

“The Chief is my uncle,” she says at last. “He will listen to me.”

Dean blinks. Well, that changes things…maybe.

COMING 11/17! (New chapters every Sunday.)

Or read Part 3 on Patreon now!

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[lkfarrout]

Birthday Gifts (Stan x fem!Reader)

Summary: You find yourself at a party at the Mystery Shack, where you learn a few secrets about the host. Takes place during Double Dipper.

Warnings: Just fluff today :) Some kissing, but nothing sexual. Alcohol mentioned.

This is a long one - 4 chapters. But I wrote it all in a day so I figured I'd just put it all in one post. If you're confused about it being Stan's birthday during Double Dipper, check out this post. It's actually cannon!

And if you're curious, the song I reference is Before He Cheats by Carrie Underwood.

Chapter 1

"Hey, watch it!" You grabbed your foot, wincing in pain.

The guy just shrugged at you and went back to dancing. If you could call it dancing? It was more like aggressively punching the air to the beat. As you made your way off the dancefloor, you could feel a lump rising in your throat and the tears began to flow. You looked for a door, any door. It had been a terrible night.

But for someone else, it had been a worse one. Stan Pines was alone in the kitchen, with two shots of liquor -- one in his hand, the other on the counter.

"Well, Stanford, here's to one more trip around the sun. I uh, I know I say every year that this'll be the last one I celebrate without ya, but this time I mean it." Stan clinked the glasses together, and downed his liquid courage. As he opened his eyes, he saw you come around the corner.

"Hey! Guests aren't allowed back here."

You jumped at the sound of his voice and began to frantically wipe your tears away, "Sorry, I'm leaving."

"Wait," his voice was softer now, "you okay?"

"Not really." You sniffled and stared at him. He was wearing a 70's disco outfit and a goofy fez. It was crooked, probably had to do with empty shot glass in his hand, you guessed.

"Ya wanna talk about it?" he asked, as he straightened his hat.

"It's nothing, I just. My friends ditched me tonight and its like, only teenagers here? And then this asshole stepped on my foot. It sounds stupid when I say it out loud."

He chuckled, "Well, sorry bout that, but if ya want to leave early, there's an exit fee."

You smiled a little at the joke, and then realized, "Oh, you must be Stan? Sorry I'm pretty new here and I still don't know everybody. I've heard of you though." You told him your name.

He took your hand and shook it firmly, "Good to meet ya."

"I see you're hiding the good stuff back here, huh?" You gestured to the liquor bottle, "Who's the other shot for?"

"Uh, nobody. You know what?" He slid it toward you, "You want it? Might make ya feel better."

You shook your head, "Oh, I was just making a joke. That stuff's pretty nasty."

"Okay, well, uh," he rubbed the back of his neck, "then, how about a dance?"

You were a little taken aback.

"With you?" You asked.

"Hey, I promise I won't step on your foot."

Chapter 2

The song wasn't exactly slow, but Stan pulled you into him and the two of you started to swing to the beat. You noticed then how big his arms were, and how well his white shirt fit him. It was lowcut, and he had on a gold chain poking through a bit of chest hair.

He was saying something, but you were too distracted to listen.

"Well, ya ready?"

"Yeah," you nodded, before realizing you had no idea what you'd agreed to, "wait, woah--"

Suddenly you were looking up into his eyes, and all your weight was supported by his arm. "See? I told ya, dipping is my specialty."

Your hand searched for something to grab onto, and settled on his ribcage. He pulled you back up, and you felt something under his shirt.

"Are you wearing a gir--"

"Bulletproof vest?" He cut you off, "Yeah." He leaned in and whispered in your ear, "When the shooting starts, get behind me."

You laughed at him, "Yeah right, Stan. If that's a bulletproof vest," you poked him on the exposed part of his chest, "you're definitely wearing it wrong."

He shrugged, "Hey it was worth a shot. And it made ya laugh, didn't it?"

You smiled, "Yeah, I guess it did."

A few of the party-goers were watching the two of you curiously, but he didn't seem to notice. You passed several more songs in Stan's arms, listening to his jokes and stories, and even enjoying yourself. Eventually, a song came on that you recognized.

"Oh, hey, this song's in 3/4," you commented. Stan raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry I'm kind of a music nerd," you laughed, "3/4 is my favorite time signature."

"Why's that?" He seemed genuinely curious.

"Oh, just cuz, that's the one that you can waltz to."

"Oh, like the cotillion dances in The Dutchess Approves?" As soon as he said it, he started to laugh nervously, and his eyes darted to the ceiling, "I mean... what is that?"

You laughed at him, "YOU watch The Dutchess Approves?"

He was red now, "I... may have seen some clips of it."

You punched him playfully on the shoulder, "Don't worry Stan, I won't tell anyone your secret."

He smiled back, and the redness subsided.

Chapter 3:

"Uh, since you say that, ya wanna hear another secret? Ya can't tell anyone."

"Okay, what is it?"

He coughed, "Ah, y'know maybe not, its-- its dumb."

"Oh c'mon you have to tell me!"

He shrugged, "Alright, today's my birthday."

"Really? Oh, Stan, happy birthday!"

He shushed you and looked around the room, "Not so loud, okay? Nobody else knows."

"What? You threw a party on your own birthday and no one knows?"

"Yeah, and I wanna keep it that way."

You could tell he was getting a little uncomfortable, so you decided not to pry and instead opted for a joke to lighten things up.

"But, Stan, if no one knows, how will you get any gifts?"

"Oh please," he laughed, "I don't even remember the last time I got a birthday gift. I must've been a kid."

"Well that just won't do," you shook your head. "If I'm the only one who knows I guess its up to me to get you something."

"Oh, no, c'mon we just met, I--"

You kissed him on the cheek. Speechless, he rubbed a hand over the spot.

"There you go, Stan," you whispered. "Happy birthday."

"Thanks, I, uh--"

Suddenly the music cut out, and the DJ announced it was time for karaoke. His touch lingered on you a bit before he let go. You both decided to get a little closer to the stage and listen to the blonde girl who was singing. Before you knew it, the song was over and a girl in a sweater and big orange bow was up.

After just a few lines she yelled, "Now I'm gonna do a flip!" And faceplanted. She popped back up with a smile, and Stan yelled, "That's my girl!"

Before you could say anything about it, the DJ asked, "Any other brave dudes want to try for the party crown?"

Stan elbowed you, "Hey you said ya like music? Why don't you get up there?"

"Oh, really, I couldn't--"

"C'mon," he insisted, "If you sing half as good as ya dance, you'll do great."

"Fine, but only because it's your birthday."

You flipped through the catalogue, "That one."

The song started with a country guitar lick and low saxophone. You pulled the mic out of the stand.

Right now, he's probably slow dancin' with a bleach blonde tramp

And she's probably gettin' frisky

Right now, he's probably buyin' her some fruity little drink

Cuz she can't shoot whiskey

You watched Stan's eyes go wide. He was absolutely starstruck.

Right now, he's probably up behind her with a pool stick

Showin' her how to shoot a combo

Oh, and he don't know

The crowd cheered as you started the chorus, and Stan whistled loudly. On a nearby beam, Dipper #8 sat unnoticed with a dollar on a fishing line. He shrugged, Stan seemed distracted enough.

As you decended the stage, several people complimented you, and Stan stood with his hands in his pockets and a crooked smile.

"Wow, Doll, if I knew ya had pipes like that--"

"Grunkle Stan, wasn't she amazing?" The girl from the song before popped up between you.

She turned to you, "You'll get the crown for sure!"

You patted her on the head, "That's okay, I don't want it. How about you go win it instead, huh?"

"I'm on it!" She ran back over to her friends.

The DJ's voice came back on over the mic, "Now we're gonna bring it down for a minute. Ladies, dudes, now's the time."

A slow song started to play and Stan pulled you back into his arms.

You laughed, "Okay, I have to know, what is a grunkle?"

Chapter 4:

The two of you continued to dance and talk for the rest of the party. He told you all about his neice and nephew, and pointed out a couple of employees. You only paused your conversation to cheer Mabel on for the party crown vote. After a while, guests started to file out and it was just you, Stan, the twins and their friends, and a few other stragglers.

"Do ya need to go?" he asked.

"Yeah, I probably should."

"Alright, I'll walk you out."

There was no one else outside. Stan leaned against the door of your car, "So, uh, about that birthday gift ya gave me..."

"What, you didn't like it?"

"No, I just feel bad," he shrugged. "I think I should give it back."

You couldn't hide your smile as he planted a kiss on your cheek.

You tried your best to look smug despite your blushing, "Well, good thing I have another one for you." You pulled him in by the collar and kissed him, this time on the mouth. His hands grabbed your waist and pulled you closer.

"I don't care how many you have, I'm just gonna give 'em back."

"Yeah?" you teased, "We'll see about that."

The two of you kissed several more times before Stan pulled away with a chuckle, "I think I lost track, can we start over?"

You were about to suggest a truce, when you heard Mabel yelling from the porch, "Grunkle Stan! My friends are sleeping over tonight!"

Stan sighed, and yelled back "Okay, sweetie!"

He turned back to you, and you commented, "That's too bad you have kids to watch, y'know, cuz I was gonna invite you to a sleepover at my house."

"Yeah?" he chuckled nervously.

"Oh wait! Before I go, I have a real gift for you!" Stan waited as you dug around in your glovebox.

"Here," you handed him a napkin with your number scribbled on it. "Happy birthday, Stan."

[thbcway]

songs that gives hualian vibes + lyrics 2

Eric Chou - Me And You

I like it when it's just me and you

I think by now you know it too

Not sorry if we ditch the crew

Just hope you feel the same way too

About me and you

There's not a thing that I wouldn't do

Ooh right now just to be here with you

I like you here in my arms

I like you here in my arms, ooh

Eric Chou - Something About You

And if you do just tell me you do

'Cause I can't live a day without you

There's something about you, I am addicted

There are some days we will be blue

But I will always love you

George Washington - Just The Two Of Us

I hear the crystal raindrops fall

On the window down the hall

And it becomes the morning dew

And darling when the morning comes

And I see the morning sun

I wanna be the one with you

Maggie Rogers - Love You For A Long Time

And in the mornin' when you wrap me up

I know that forever could never be enough

I feel it in my body, know it in my mind, oh, I

I'm gonna love you for a long time

I'm gonna love you for a long time

I'm gonna love you for a long time

Mitski - Heaven

Hear the storm dances outside

Something set free is running through the night

And the dark awaits us all around the corner

But here in our place, we have for the day

Can we stay a while and listen for heaven?

Heaven

Elvis Presley - Can't Help Falling in Love

Wise men say

Only fools rush in

But I can't help falling in love with you

Shall I stay?

Would it be a sin

If I can't help falling in love with you?

Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

Darling, so it goes

Some things are meant to be

Take my hand

Take my whole life, too

For I can't help falling in love with you

The Neighbourhood - Heaven

I would die for your heaven

I could lie here forever

Every night we're together

If you'd like, I'll do whatever

Sydney Rose - Turning Page

I've waited a hundred years

And I'd wait a million more for you

Nothing prepared me for

What the privilege of being yours would do

If I had only felt the warmth within your touch

If I had only seen how you smile when you blush

Or how you curl your lip when you concentrate enough

Well, I would have known what I've been living for all along

What I've been living for

Your love is my turning page

Where only the sweetest words remain

Every kiss is a cursive line

Every touch is a redefining phrase

----

Part 1

https://www.tumblr.com/thbcway/761146403324133376/well-then-i-recommend-you-to-listen-to-the-other?source=share

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

The Quest Continues...

(part 1- part 2)