#I've said it before that I would like to see a horse-like Noise and I like the design so

[theholeyness]

horse!Noise close-up below ↓

[sushiwriterhere]

right where i want you

summary: "Standing there, staring at the cotton balls in the trash, some part deep inside of you decides that it’s now or never with Rhett."  rating: explicit (18+ mdni) pairing: rhett abbott x f!reader word count: 6.1k warnings: sub!rhett, pseudo enemies-to-lovers!, mentions of violence, choking, dry humping, overstimulation, aftercare, potentially ooc, no use of y/n.  notes: uhhh walk him like a dog bitch walk him like a dog🗣😼 i'm not even gonna lie to y'all i've never seen outer range but lewis pullman is in my brain. pls let me know what u think! thank you to @sebsxphia for encouraging my rhett brainworms and to @rhettabbotts for reading a snippet ! my other works are here tagging: @lewmagoo @wkndwlff @bobfloyds @sometimesanalice @bradshawsbitch @roosterbruiser @withahappyrefrain @theharddeck - pls let me know if you'd like to be added or removed!

You work a comb in steady, circular motions over your horse’s coat, watching as the dust and pollen raises into the soft afternoon light. Just under the background noise of the stable, you hear boots crunching and you immediately know who it is. All your time away hasn’t changed a thing, it seems. 

“Rhett Abbott you leave me alone or I’ll yell at the top of my lungs, I swear.” You don’t even turn around to look at him, as if not making eye contact would mean he’ll leave. He won’t. And he never does.

“How’d ‘ya know it was me?” You hear the way he kicks at the dirt of the barn floor with his boots absentmindedly, and you try to not let his presence rile you up too much since you know that’s what he wants.

You still don’t turn around to face him. “Because y’never leave me alone.” 

“I’m jus’ sweet on ‘ya. Couldn’t help it if I tried. Besides, missed ‘ya while ‘ya were away at that fancy east coast school o’ yours.”

“Well, have you tried?” You ignore the second part of what he said–you’re back for the summer, and you really haven’t been gone all that long even if your parents act like you’ve come back from the dead.

That pulls a laugh from him. 

For as long as you can remember, Rhett Abbott has been a pain in your ass. You were slightly younger than him but that somehow never stopped him from always finding a way to be in your presence. Your dad being Wabang’s sheriff didn’t seem to deter him either, especially when your dad started getting real prickly about having boys around. 

“Nope,” He lets his lips pop dramatically on the ‘p’ sound, then pauses as if to consider his next words, “Plus, you’re real cute when you’re mad.”

All you want is to turn around and throw the rubber brush you’ve got clenched in your fingers at his stupid, smug, face. You know the exact expression he’s wearing in that moment because it’s the same one he’s had every other time he’s taunted you. 

“Decide if you love me or hate me, Rhett Abbott. Quit wastin’ my time.” You hiss, and this time you do turn around. You refrain from throwing anything at him, though. 

“Aw, don’t get too upset now,” He pushes himself off the stall door he’d been leaning against and makes his way into your personal space.

You level him with a scathing glare before going back to grooming. Even the way he breathes around you seems to raise your hackles and you wonder if all this tension is ever going to resolve itself. If he’s ever going to leave you alone.

“I didn’t come by to bother ‘ya, honest.” He murmurs.

You don’t grant him a response, but he stays where he is, undeterred.

“I wanted to see if you’d come out tonight, everyone’s been missin’ ‘ya. Whole town’s in uproar that you’re back.” 

“I’ll think about it.”

That seems to satisfy him as a grin spreads across his face and he spins on his heel, whistling jauntily as he strolls out of the stable.

You’re loathe to admit it, but it makes something twist in your stomach at the thought that Rhett came by to invite you out, to tell you he missed you. That everyone missed you. You shove that feeling down, though. Rhett’s always just been a nuisance and the fact that he seems to have gotten far handsomer while you’d been away is not part of your calculus.

-

For all his insistence that he actually likes you, has been thinking about you this whole time, Rhett sure is more than happy to let some buckle bunny cuddle up to him. You swallow something down, not jealousy, but what feels like a lump in your throat. He’s a liar and you’re a fool. Rhett Abbott will never be anything but a good for nothing, sonofa—

You storm out of the bar in a huff, not noticing the way Rhett’s eyes follow you over the head of the bleach blonde who’s grasping the collar of his flannel. 

In missing Rhett’s gaze, you also miss the way James Earl follows you out. By the time you’re in the parking lot, it’s too late to turn around. James is between you and the door. 

He calls your name and it makes all the hair on the back of your neck stand up, “Wait up!”

“Leave me alone, James.” You really don’t want to deal with him right now, you don’t want to deal with any men, for that matter. 

“I said wait.” His voice turns acidic and you pause before turning around slowly. There’s nowhere else for you to go but back into the bar, and you’re certain he won’t just let you walk off while you try to call your dad.

“Now that you’re back, I’m going to take you out to dinner.” James looks almost like he has good intentions, but you haven’t lost touch with the way news travels in Wabang just because you were separated by a few states. 

You know what the girls who stayed behind say about him. You heard the stories in high school about how he treated his girlfriends–always holding their arms too tight, a little too possessive. There’s nothing about him that you like, or even want to tolerate, at all.

“No, thank you, James. I really should get going.” You try to sound sweet, try to turn on the charm in hopes that he’ll change his mind. 

You turn your phone over in your hands, unlock it, and try to act nonchalant. You remember the Swiss army knife tucked in your bra if things get rough. 

His demeanor switches in an instant.

“You think just ‘cause you’re the sheriff's daughter you can just walk around like you own this place, huh? Too good for us with your fancy college? All of Wabang swoonin’ over a stuck up, prissy, little bitch.” The words are like poison, but you try to stand your ground, “Why I ought’a teach you a lesson.”

When James stalks your way, one hand starting to reach for you as you reel back in fear, you realize just what he intends. The world slows to a molasses, you’re outside your body as you freeze, unable to do much but witness what you know is about to happen to you.

Instead of James’ hand around your wrist or in your hair, Rhett’s voice breaks the moment, “Earl, I’ll make ‘ya sorry ‘ya ever look’d at ‘er if ‘ya don’t step away right now.” 

There he is, illuminated by the bar deck lights, one hand on his belt as he stalks into the parking lot. You’d call him your savior if you don’t blame him somehow; if he hadn’t been so wrapped up in whatever girl was giving him attention in that moment maybe you wouldn’t be here. 

“Like hell you will, Abbott. Leave us alone, this is none of your business.” James whirls around, his attention momentarily off you.

You think you can make your escape, make it back inside the bar where there are more eyes and call your dad to get him to pick you up. Instead, you watch as Rhett and James come face to face, both acting like macho idiots. 

They soil your plan for a hasty escape. It’s Rhett who makes the first move and shoves James, hard. In a split second they’re yelling obscenities at each other as Rhett grabs him by the collar to shake him and clock him across the face. His knuckles split open on James’ face and you aren’t sure if his nose is broken from the blow or not. 

“Stop it!” You try to at least get Rhett’s attention, maybe use his feelings for you for good, but it does little as James tries to gain the upper hand. “Rhett Abbott you fool, get off’a him!”

All at once, a few other patrons spill out of the bar doors at the commotion. You’re standing a few feet back from the pair as they tussle; there’s blood strewn in the dirt and you hope not too much of it is Rhett’s. Suddenly they’re being pulled apart.

You march up to James and stick a finger in his face as he struggles against the men holding his arms, “You ever try that shit with me again I’ll make sure my daddy gives you exactly what you deserve.”

His face is twisted up in a snarl, and he looks like he’s considering spitting in your face, “Still hiding behind your daddy? Figures.”

He’s hauled off in a moment before you can respond, no doubt to get cleaned up and have someone take a look at his nose. Maybe even to face your dad. You whirl around to start shouting at Rhett next, but he’s simply standing there, hands hanging loosely by his sides. No one’s restraining him anymore, they’re all dealing with James you guess, and you realize that it’s just the two of you in the parking lot at that point. 

You make your decision in an instant, “Give me your keys.” 

You don’t get closer to him, you just hold a hand out and look at him expectantly. Rhett doesn’t move. 

“Rhett Abbott, you damned fool, give me your keys so I can take your stupid ass home.” 

He has the audacity to smile wolfishly at you, cheek bruising, and say lowly as he walks to you, “Tryin’ to take me home, sugar?”

Snatching his keys from his fist, you turn around without responding. You don’t check if he’s following you, some part of you knows you don’t need to. 

You climb into the drivers side of his truck and start it, only barely waiting for him to get in and buckle up. Switching it into gear, you start driving. It’s deathly silent in the cab as you drive, ignoring far too many traffic laws along the way for someone who was raised by the sheriff. Rhett fidgets in his seat next to you. 

As you weave down the back country roads to his place, you distantly recall the time during high school when he’d bought the truck. All week, girls had flocked to him, begging him to teach them to drive stick (they all already knew) or even just sit in the back. Trucks were a dime a dozen, but Rhett Abbott’s was special in the eyes of all the future buckle bunnies. 

You’d watched the chaos from afar until he’d lifted his gaze from the girl tugging at his flannel to look at you. You’d looked away quickly, too embarrassed to be caught staring at him despite your continued insistence you didn’t like him in the slightest and that he never crossed your mind.

He never did end up giving any of the girls a chance. He wouldn’t even let them touch the keys.

Now here you are, driving his truck like it’s your own without a single complaint from him. 

When you pull up to his house, you get out the same way you’d gotten in–without a word and barely waiting for him to catch up to you. It’s almost instinctual, the way you grab the house key from next to the truck one, unlock the door and shove inside, only knowing that he’s inside too because of the way the door slides shut softly instead of slamming. 

Once inside, you flick on the kitchen light and round on him, “Now why’d ‘ya have to go and start shit with James Earl, huh?”

Rhett looks like he’s just been scolded by his mother for leaving his socks on the floor at his ripe age, and he scoffs harshly. You don’t miss the way his knuckles are split and crusted in blood. There’s a bruise blooming high on one of his cheeks. 

“I’m the one startin’ shit? He was tryin’ somethin’ with you!” He takes a step toward you but you don’t move, “Earl’s a piece of shit and he got what was comin’ to him. I don’t regret a goddamn thing.”

“I had it handled.” Your defense is instinctual–knee jerk, even—everyone wants you to be fragile, to be something that needs protecting, and you’re sick of it. 

“Did ‘ya?” You’re toe to toe now, and his shoulders are heaving. “‘Cause what I saw said somethin’ else.”

For a moment, you think he might kiss you. It takes all of your mental effort not to shove him and start shouting at him for how stupid he is, so instead you raise a single eyebrow and plaster on your most disapproving expression possible. 

“I’m not arguin’ with you, Rhett Abbott. Get your damn first-aid kit and lemme clean ‘ya up.” 

For once in his life, he listens to you. Eventually you find yourself kneeling in front of him as he sinks into the couch. You’ve turned on one of the living room lights, but there’s still just barely enough light to make out the details of his face and the way he tore up his knuckles on James Earl’s nose and cheeks. 

“Now keep bein’ all tough, I better not hear ‘ya bitchin’ about the antiseptic hurtin’.” You don’t have it in you to actually hurt him though, so you keep the press of the rubbing alcohol-soaked cotton balls gentle. 

He draws his shoulders up by his ears regardless, hissing lightly when it stings. Thankfully, only his pinky knuckle is actually split open on his right hand, so he won’t be entirely useless at work. His left hand is in worse shape, with three of his knuckles bubbling blood where he managed to cut them open. Both hands are bruised.

He doesn’t comment on your position at his knees. 

“Earl’s nose better be fuckin’ broken.” Rhett finally breaks the silence as you finish cleaning his hands. 

You don’t grant him with a response. Instead you stand to your full height and make your way to the kitchen to throw away the cotton balls now soaked with his blood. Standing there, staring at the cotton balls in the trash, some part deep inside of you decides that it’s now or never with Rhett.

When you return to him, he hasn’t moved a muscle. He simply tips his head back to look at you. Slowly, you put one knee up on the couch next to his thighs, then the other, and all of a sudden you’re kneeling over his lap. The hem of your dress just barely brushes his jeans. He looks like he’s holding his breath and he barely exhales when you let your full weight rest on him.

“I need to make sure he didn’t break yours.” It’s a lame excuse and you both know it, but you know he won’t call you on it, not when your bare thighs are warm against his denim-clad ones. 

He smells like outside, like the evening sun, and something that tickles your nose; it’s uniquely Rhett. Privately, you wonder if all his clothes smell like him, and if they carry that scent even when he hasn’t worn them in a long while. 

Shifting in his lap, you cradle his face and turn it toward the light. As if he’s trying not to spook a wild horse, he very delicately places his hands on your thighs. He doesn’t grip them, doesn’t let his fingertips twitch, just rests his calloused palms against your bare skin.

“Looks fine to me.” You breathe out, realizing how close your faces are.

“I’ll pretend that was a compliment.” He’s trying to sound flirtatious, trying to sound like the casanova his reputation makes him out to be, only he’s breathless and his face is flushed and you can feel his pulse racing.

You hate when men think they can just take control of you in bed because they’re a man and you’re not. But with Rhett, you can tell you’ve got him right where you want him by the way his Adam's apple bobs in his throat and the way his hands rest on your thighs, fingertips just barely brushing the hem of your dress. 

Letting go of his face, you brush imaginary dust off his shoulders before letting one hand rest flat on his chest, and threading the other up into his hair. It’s silkier than you ever imagined despite the way you know you can safely assume he does jack all to take care of it. He’s so damn pretty it makes your chest ache.

Both of you are silent, only the sounds of your breathing barely audible. Ever so gently, you slide your hand from his hair to the base of his neck. He’s like a foal in the way you’re unsure of how he’ll react to your hand placement, a new sort of touch. His heart hammers in his chest beneath your palm.

He doesn’t bolt or react strongly. Instead, he swallows thickly against your hand, blinking slowly at the sensation of your fingers tucked neatly around his throat. You’re not squeezing in the slightest, just letting your fingers rest around the warm, tanned, skin of his neck.

“Are you going to behave, Rhett?” Your voice is low over the sounds of the night outside.

He nods as you flex your fingers gently, testing the waters, and his eyes flutter shut. Rocking your hips experimentally, you feel the way his grip tightens on your thighs and the way he’s hard against you. 

He likes it. He likes the way you’ve got a hand around his throat, the other resting gently on his chest. He isn’t fighting you, he isn’t arguing–for once in his life, he’s quiet in your presence. 

The realization of how obedient he’s being sends a skittering sort of arousal through you. You see yourself pulling on jeans tomorrow and finding his fingerprints on you. You see him staring at himself in the mirror in the morning, lost at how to cover up the evidence of what you’d done to him the night before.

“You’ve spent all this time pullin’ my pigtails, and now that I’m here you can’t even form words.” He keeps his eyes closed and nods ever so slightly.

You want to hate him. 

Oh how you want to hate Rhett Abbott. You want to hate the way he’s spent the last however many years following you around like a stray dog, poking fun at you and riling you up, just to have your attention. You want to hate the way he probably spent more time chasing boys off than your dad did. More than anything else you want to find it in you to feel something other than the way he’s burrowed himself under your skin. 

“Whatever,” His voice is strained and he clears his throat before opening his eyes again, “Whatever you want, sugar. I’ll do whatever you want.”

“And if I want to get up right now, and never see you again?” You aren’t going to make this easy on him. 

Yelling at James Earl is one thing, almost beating him to a pulp is another. You can protect yourself, you’re not a damsel in distress, and above all Rhett needs to learn his place. You’re grateful he was there, you are. But you didn’t need him to go and get in trouble on your behalf.

“Now, sugar, I find it hard to believe—”

You move as if to stand up, going to remove the hand from his neck to use one of his shoulders as leverage. Before you can get far, really even one inch away from him, one of his hands is flying from your thighs to clutch at the wrist of the hand that’s leaving his throat. He holds you there, and you can feel the way his pulse is racing. He maintains the way he stares into your eyes, but this time his are wide, almost as if in fear that you’d actually get up and leave. 

“Try again.” You don’t change the way half your weight is off him, but you let him hold your wrist.

“Whatever you want, goes.” He swallows slowly before speaking again, “Will you just–Will you please sit back down?” 

He doesn’t let go of your wrist.

You ease yourself back into his lap and run your free hand in between you till you reach his erection. It sends a thrill through you to feel just how excited he is by all of this. You want to hear him say please again, you want to see how far you can push your luck with him in the palm of your hand. You want him to beg.

You laugh lightly, if not a bit cruelly, as you squeeze his cock over his jeans, “Does this turn you on, Rhett?” You pause to watch how his pupils dilate at your tone before pressing on, “Not much of a big, bad, man now, are ‘ya?”

To your surprise, that doesn’t set him off. Most men wouldn’t let you put your hand around their throat, much less question just how much of a man they are. But he barely reacts beyond his chest rising and falling, his hands moving back to fully settle on your thighs and this time, gripping tightly. 

“Like I said, whatever you want, sugar–I just want ‘ya to use me. Be good for something,” He licks his lips and exhales shakily, “Be good for you.” 

Jesus. His sincerity bleeds through in the way his face is flushed and he maintains steady eye contact. He doesn’t waver for a single moment. 

Something sick twists in your chest. Never before has a man been so willing, so pliant, for you. They’ve always tried to take what they want from you, always tried to make you submit. But what you actually wanted was this, Rhett’s eyes gazing pleadingly up at you while you sit in his lap. 

“So this is what you wanted all along, huh? Always following me around, playing pranks on me, just wanted me to get my hand around your throat and use you?” You’re goading him on, trying to discern exactly what he wants you to say, what he’ll let you get away with. 

With that, you lean close as if to kiss him and he closes his eyes lightly in anticipation, but at the last second turn your head so you can drag the tip of your nose across his cheek. The shudder that runs through him at the feather-light sensation is delicious; it makes you laugh lightly at how affected he is. His breaths are starting to come heavier, already betraying him if he tried to hide how badly he wants this. But he isn’t hiding, not in the slightest.

Now that you’re this close to him, the scent of him is overwhelming. It floods your mind and makes you almost lightheaded as you realize just how badly you want him. Part of it is that he’s so pliant, so willing, but the other part is the truth of the matter that you finally have to admit to yourself: you don’t hate Rhett Abbott. 

In fact, his whole years-long performance has only meant that his constant presence is lingering somewhere at the forefront of your mind regardless of whether he’s around or not. When you’d gone off to college, those nine months had been odd without him around. You’d half expected him to show up to walk you between lecture halls or push some frat boy off you at a party.

(What you don’t know is that Rhett did almost go out to visit you. He’d looked at plane tickets, at how long it might take him to drive. He decided against it when he remembered every time you’d rejected him or told him to, very unkindly, “fuck off”.)

“Can I kiss ‘ya?” His voice is rough and he licks his lips again, like it’s a nervous habit. 

You press a gentle kiss to his cheek and giggle softly to yourself when he whines and says, “That’s not what I meant and y’know it.”

Finally, you press your lips to his. They’re soft and warm and he’s so much better of a kisser than everyone else you’ve been with that it almost knocks the wind out of you. But he keeps you grounded, especially when his hand moves up to your jaw so he can coax it open. The way he licks into your mouth makes you let out a startled gasp. 

You don’t expect it to feel so good. It’s one thing to sit in his lap and flirt, it’s a whole other to taste him and understand why girls chase him endlessly. You can’t stop the way your hips move against his and he keeps one hand on your thigh while the other goes to your tits. His hand dwarfs your chest and he gropes you haphazardly. 

“Fuck, you’re even better than I imagined,” He sighs, pushing up against the hand that’s still around his throat. 

“I haven’t even taken my clothes off, Rhett.” You tease, wanting to see how far you can push him, see if you can still get a rise out of him.

But it seems he’s given up the fight now that you’re right where he wants you. He smiles gently as he pulls back to look you in the eyes, “I could finish in my pants like a damned teenager with you like this, sugar, doesn’t matter.”

Rhett Abbott, womanizer, absolute menace in your life, admitting that he’s got it so bad for you that he could come in his pants just from having you near him? You could’ve guessed that he wanted to fuck you, but you always thought it would be more of him getting his rocks off and letting you fend for yourself. It never would’ve occurred to you that this is how he’d be in the moment. Him admitting how weak he is for you makes your head spin.

You press yourself ever closer to him, licking into his mouth and trapping his hand between the two of you where it had been stroking your nipples through the thin fabric of your sundress. He manages to free it, though, and slides it down your side to where your thigh creases. He wraps it around you there and the the sheer size difference between his hand and your hip makes a twisted sort of want course in your veins.

The first press of his thumb against your clit through your panties sends a jolt through you. He keeps your hips moving in a steady rhythm against his as he works steady circles over your clit. His other hand won’t stay still as it runs up and down your back, rubs your nipples, yanks on the tips of your hair ever so slightly. It’s mind-numbingly filthy, the quiet of his house filled with both of your gasps and moans, your hand still on his neck. 

“Cum for me, sugar,” Then, as if he’s anticipating your chastisement, he adds, “Please.”

Your orgasm rips through you like white hot lighting as you gasp into his open mouth and he moans right along with you. You realize you’re chanting his name over and over like a prayer, completely unwittingly. He doesn’t let up with any of his movements, prolonging your pleasure til it folds into something more biting, just on the edge of overstimulating. 

“Fuck, Jesus,” He gasps, and after a moment, “I’ll be thinking ‘bout that til I die,” He rasps out, settling both of his hands on your hips and leaning his forehead against yours. 

You want to tease him about taking the Lord’s name in vain but you hold back. For a moment, it’s quiet. Your hips are still against his as you take in what just happened. It begins to dawn on you that he’s still hard under you, but he isn’t making any moves to change that. 

He starts to shift under you like he’s considering standing up but you stop him by leaning into him. 

“Ah ah, I’m not finished with you yet,” His eyes snap to yours in surprise.

“Rhett Abbott. Tellin’ me I could make you cum in your pants like a teen boy?” You lean back ever so slightly with a light snarl on your face, finally tightening your fingers to a tight grip in a way that makes his eyes glaze over, “Prove it.”

Pressing the heel of your palm into his crotch, you watch as he eyes scrunch shut and he grinds up once, twice, three times before a he releases a shaky exhale. You watch as he comes, as he pants and whines through his orgasm, the denim under your hand growing warm and wet. He doesn’t stop grinding and thrusting up against your hand til it draws a pained moan from him. 

“Can I–Can I keep going?” He tries to make eye contact but his eyes are too unfocused from pleasure, “Like it when it, ah, when it hurts.”

God, this is what you’ve been missing out on the whole time? You let yourself rock steadily in his lap as he grinds up against your hand and leans forward to kiss you messily. You wonder if he let the other girls he’s been with do this to him. But something tells you that isn’t the case–you really don’t want it to be.

The whines and gasps he’s letting out as he’s writhing below you are something from your most far-fetched fantasies. You’re only slightly stunned as you feel him get hard again below you, though it seems to draw out the pain more than the pleasure given the way his face twists up and the hiss he lets out. All at once he settles; and then he goes to lift your wrist away from his crotch. 

It’s terribly tender, the way he pulls away from you to press a kiss to the palm of your hand and smile widely at you. You almost get whiplash.

“What are you playin’ at?” You can’t help but settle back into your old ways–the Rhett Abbott you’ve known for so long has only really been around to aggravate you, the heartfelt way he’s looking at you sets you off kilter. 

When he laughs at the way you’re starting to get irritated, you try to pull your hand from his to no avail and it makes the heat rise in your face, “Knock it off, Rhett. You’re bein’ an asshole.”

But he just keeps smiling at you as he pulls your other hand off his neck so that he can place both on his shoulders and cradle your face, “You’re so beautiful.”

As if anticipating the way you’re going to react to his words, he pulls your face to his so that he can press your lips together once again. It’s nothing like before. Before it was all tongue and your lips barely meeting through the gasps and moans being pulled out of you. This time it’s something so warm, so delicate, it makes your chest hurt in a different way. 

“I hate you, Rhett Abbott,” You manage to gasp out once he pulls away fully, a sparkle in his eyes. It doesn’t have any heat to it, lacks all the rage it used to–this time, it just sounds like you might be trying to tell him you love him. 

He ignores you in favor of standing with you still in his arms and declaring, “Come on, let’s go get cleaned up and go to bed.”

Somewhere between your orgasm and when he kissed you that final time, you think he might’ve figured it out too–that you don’t hate him and maybe you never have. Because you let him carry you through his dark home without protest. You let him undress you wordlessly, without fanfare and without ogling your naked form. He simply drops your soiled clothing into a laundry hamper and starts undressing himself.

You watch him strip as he turns on the shower and gestures for you to follow him in when he steps in. For just a second you stare at him, halfway in and halfway out from under the stream of water, the way he’s staring at you expectantly. 

He still has that bruise on his cheek from where James Earl hit him what feels like a lifetime ago. His knuckles are still split in some places, just turning that particular shade of red in others. He’s a goddamn vision under the yellow and white fluorescent lights of his bathroom. It makes you want to hold your breath for fear that you’ll disturb the moment somehow.

The shower proceeds without a hitch. It’s oddly lacking sexual tension, though you notice that he’s still half hard. You have half a mind to sink to your knees and suck him off, just to prove your point, just to show him you mean business. But the way he gently washes you as if he’d done it a million times before stops you. You let him clean you up between your legs without a protest.

When he opens the bathroom cabinet to reveal various creams and lotions after you’ve both stepped out and wrapped yourselves in towels, you feel yourself start to get angry. Is he seriously showing you all the products he buys for all the other girls he brings home?

Instead, he smiles sheepishly at you and rubs the back of his neck, “You always smell so good, I spent ages tryin’ to figure out which one you were usin’. Just bought all of ‘em at some point.”

You feel floored as the fight leaves your body. You don’t have a way to be upset about that. Wordlessly, you pick up one of the bottles tucked in the second row and hand it to him. 

“It’s this one.” 

The grin that spreads over his face is one of such genuine happiness it makes you want to squeal and run for the hills at the same time. You wonder distantly if he’ll ever stop making you feel like that–simultaneously like a trapped animal and like you’re the only girl he’s ever seen. You wonder if this (there’s a ‘this’?) will last long enough for you to find out.

He lends you one of his shirts and you’re pleased to find out that it does hold his smell. It sits long on you, settling around your knees, making you feel just a bit like a sexy ghost with the way it hugs your chest. He pulls on a pair of briefs before flicking off the overhead light and then throwing back the covers and patting the space next to him.

“You’re a vision for a blind man, sugar,” His voice carries through the otherwise silent room, “Now come to bed.”

It’s something out of a daydream, climbing into bed with Rhett Abbott. You’re immediately enveloped in his scent, the way his arm lays heavy around your waist and pulls you close to him. For once, you don’t fight him.

“You okay there, sugar? Been awfully quiet.” His voice is low right next to your ear before he turns away momentarily to turn off the bedside table light. His arm is back around you in an instant.

Wiggling yourself around in his arms, you turn so that the two of you are nose to nose. He smiles that smile again, the one that fills you with warmth and makes your stomach twist. There’s barely enough light from outside to really see him as your eyes adjust to the dark, but you know his face.

“I don’t think I hate you.” 

He starts laughing. It shakes his shoulders and makes the bed creak. His eyes screw up and you can feel the way his stomach moves against yours. You feel your shoulders go up by your ears and you try to pull away, embarrassed that he’s laughing.

“I’m sorry, sugar, c’mere,” He tugs you even closer to him than before, if possible, “I’m not laughin’ at you, I’m laughin’ only ‘cause I never hated you. I don’t really think you hated me either.”

“Hey!” You’re indignant, “Rhett Abbott, who’re you to tell me how I feel?”

“Alright, alright, sugar, I’ll take ‘yer word for it. My heroics do it for ‘ya?” You barely catch the way he winks at you in the dark, but it makes you want to bite him in retaliation.

“The way you almost got the snot beat outta ‘ya? Sure.” Scoffing, you turn yourself over so you’re facing away from him again, only you don’t move out of his arms. 

He huffs lightly in protest, but lets it go in favor of nuzzling into your hair and pressing his lips to the crown of your head. It sends a warm sort of heat through you. You’re not ready to fully give in to him yet, but you think he might be growing on you. You’ll just have to see.

[storm-angel989]

Don’t try to force yourself to make content, okay? Self care is way more important than putting stuff out, even if it makes others happy! Us fans will gladly wait until you’re mentally and emotionally ready!😉 Also drink water and eat real food, not just snacks!!!

Hi Friend,

Thank you so, so much for your kind words- I read your message as soon as it popped into my inbox and I did exactly as you said <3 I took the weekend, had some real food, rode a few horses and all of the sudden, a story I've been working on clicked (and I wrote a few more!)

As with all things, I expect it to ebb and flow but I appreciate everyones love, care a support more than words can express! Please enjoy below story and thank you again so so much for your love and patience!

<3 Mandy

Angel recognized the sound, and apparently Valentino did too. 

The noise in itself was a concern. But it was Valentino’s reaction to it that interested Angel the most. In the middle of what was supposed to be an important shoot, Angel watched Valentino rush off down the darkened hallway only to reappear moments later with a look on his face Angel couldn’t quite distinguish. Softness, maybe? Whatever it was, it disappeared the moment Valentino sat back down.

“Angel, what the fuck are you doing?” Valentino snarled as he raked his glowing eyes over the set. “Lay down and read the fucking lines.” 

As with all things, Angel obeyed. 

Now, as Angel stood in the entryway to his dressing room, that same noise from the week prior floated down from the hallway. Soft, childlike giggles in an empty studio. A sense of unease washed over Angel.  As abusive as Valentino was, he still had boundaries- and allowing kids in his studio was a hard one. Surely, Angel had to be hearing things. Maybe an actor or actress with a childlike voice. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. If there was, in fact, a kid running around in here it would be easy to get lost. Hell, sometimes he even found himself turned around and he had spent years here. 

Hesitantly, Angel walked down the familiar labyrinth of halls and rooms. 

“Hello?” he called out softly. 

Silence answered him.

“I have gotta stop drinkin before shoots,” he muttered to himself as he turned away.

“Papi?” A girlish voice came from behind him. “Papi!” 

Angel jumped and whirled around as tiny arms grabbed at his waist. Blonde hair, blue eyes, human like- Angel couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He opened his mouth to ask her who she was, but she began before he could get a word in.

“You’re not Daddy. You’re a stranger,” the child shouted as she jerked away from him. “I want Daddy.” 

Angel bit back his surprise. “Does..does your Daddy have a name?”

“Daddy.” 

Of course. Typical kid answer. Angel wracked his brain as memories flooded through. Images of his own baby sister, from his human life, floated through. Painful reminders of a distant past he tried to keep pushed down. With a deep breath, he knelt down to her level. 

“Okay kid, what does your daddy look like?”

“Daddy is tall. And he wears heart shaped glasses. And a big cozy red coat. But only when he goes to work. And I think this is Daddy’s work.” She answered confidently.

Angel felt his stomach drop. Val had a kid? Fuck, Val had a daughter? Shit. What should he do now? If he brought her back to Valentino, would he get punished? Forced to work extra hours for daring to find out his secret? But as he looked at the little girl, the sinking feeling grew sharper. He couldn’t leave her here. It wasn’t safe. And if he tried to send her back to where she came from, she’d probably end up lost- or worse. Seeing no other option, Angel took a deep breath.

“Come with me then, kid I’ll take you to yer dad. You got a name?” He offered her his hand. 

To his surprise, the little girl took it and walked next to him. “Reader. What’s yours?”

“Angel,” he replied as he focused on the hallway ahead. The feeling of her small hand in his, the familiarity of a tiny voice, a little human by his side. Flashes of his own past, his human life. Painful fragments that shattered through his mind like glass shards. He tried to swallow them back with each step they took towards Valentino’s office. 

“Daddy!” 

The little girl’s yell jerked Angel back to attention. He let go of her hand as she raced across the empty studio and to his shock, she jumped into Valentino’s arms. Angel watched as the overlord of lust and depravity wrapped the little girl up and kissed her on the forehead. 

“Bebita princessa, where were you? You have your Uncle Vox all worried!” Valentino scolded in a voice Angel had never heard him use before. 

“You promised Daddy! You promised a piggy back ride and you left!” She shrieked in response as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “You promised!” 

Angel thought for sure Valentino would hit her. Or at the very least, scold her the same way he did his employees. Instead, he watched Valetnino’s expression soften. 

“I know mi amore, I’m sorry,” he told her, “but you have to go up to Uncle Vox now, Papi has to work. Later tonight, I promise.” 

Suddenly, as if he instantly became aware Angel was watching, he jerked his head up. Their eyes met and Angel couldn’t read the expression on Valentino’s face. Anger? Appreciation? 

“So, uh, you have a kid?” Angel asked as he crossed his arms. “I, uh, found her in the back. Down the hallway. She was lookin for ya.” 

Valentino’s expression changed to one Angel knew inherently well. Cold, merciless impassion. 

“If you tell anyone, I will fucking kill you,” he stated. “Don’t think I won’t.” 

That, Angel didn’t doubt. He opened his mouth to promise he wouldn’t, but before he could get a word in, Reader’s voice floated through the empty room. 

“Daddy? What’s fucking mean?” 

Angel watched as Valentino’s expression went from cold to…unsure? Uneasy? Angel couldn’t tell. 

“I, uh, don’t worry about it baby, it’s,” Valentino stammered.

“An adult word. Only adults can use it,” Angel answered quickly. 

To Angel’s surprise, Valentino looked relieved at his explanation. The ping of the elevator and Valentino turned away. 

“Angel. Don’t be here when I get back.” Valentino said sharply. “I’ll call you when I need you again.”

“Does that mean I get the night off?” Angel called to the retreating figure. 

No answer. Angel shrugged and back in his dressing room, he pulled on his jacket. Might as well spend the rest of the night at the hotel. After all, Fat Nuggets could use a little extra attention.

[maluuustrawberry]

write more of the el dorado series please 🙏🏾

"My biggest treasure"

(Tulio X Fem! Reader X Miguel)

(The Road to El Dorado Fanfiction)

{Part 3}

{Part 2}

{Part 1}

N/A: As you wish baby heheheheheheheh. I'm back my readers! If there are any errors in the fanfic, please correct me. Good reading! ❤️

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

~{Pov} Y/n:

After a long time, night came and all the men were going to bed. I was still awake and already sneaking food into the rowing boat. I had to at least find something to keep me awake so we could set off when everyone was asleep. I took a short break to eat the apple I was saving.

For God's sake, Y/n! You're helping two thieves and you're going on a trip with them?! What if this town doesn't exist? What if they betray me? Of course Miguel promised me, but I'm not sure I should trust him, I don't know how seriously he takes promises. I can't believe I'm practically throwing everything away to find this city... Ah Dad... What I won't do for you...

I came out of my thoughts when I was eating the apple and Altivo gave me a little push to get my attention. That horse was very intelligent:

“Hey boy.” He kept his eyes on the apple I was eating. “I know what you want, you know your owner won't let you, but I'm good...”

I handed him the apple and he ate it, then kept asking me for a cuddle:

“Ok boy, I've got to go now.” I said as I stroked him. “There's a lot ahead for me... and for those two clumsy boys too.”

I added and laughed as I said it. I moved away from Altivo and went to check that everyone was asleep before calling Miguel and Tulio, and they were, it was now. I went to the lower deck where the cargo was and where they were hiding. I approached the barrels:

“Come on, they're all asleep, it's time.” I said and immediately they came out of the barrels.

“Finally, did everything work out?” Miguel asked and I nodded.

“For a moment I thought you were going to betray us and leave us here.” Tulio said in an attempt to annoy me.

“I'm not like you.” I returned the taunt and he looked me up and down.

“Come on, guys...”

I went ahead, the boys followed me off the deck, I saw Miguel putting something away in his shirt, but I didn't see what it was. We got out, Túlio and I tied the boat to the rope to lower it into the sea while Miguel watched to see if anyone was coming:

“Make sure you tie it up properly.” Túlio spoke with mockery, I couldn't resist and made the famous middle finger sign. “That's not something a lady does... Oh I almost forget, you're not one... you're just pretending to be a man around” He sneered.

“Keep believing I'll care about a thief's opinion, Tulio.” I said as I climbed into the rowing boat and, still holding the rope, prepared to go down, just waiting for him and Miguel.

Túlio climbed into the boat, looking at me disapprovingly and I just ignored him. Miguel walked up to us on tiptoe so as not to make any noise, but Altivo went up to him and gave him a little push to get his attention. For God's sake, don't let that horse make any noise...

“Oh Altivo...” Miguel said as he stroked the horse, but it didn't seem to want any affection, it was sniffing around for something in Miguel's blouse.

“Come on Miguel!” Tulio whispered impatiently. “Stop wasting time, this is a workhorse, not a poodle!”

Miguel quickly went to the boat, I was going to lower the ropes so that the boat would go out to sea, but he stopped me:

“Y/n, let me do it, you've already done too much.” He offered, holding out his hand.

“Oh, all right...”

I handed him the rope and sat in the boat while they went down. I confess I was quite scared of the water, I can't swim, there's that, but I don't think anything bad will happen... I hope... Altivo was neighing low and grumbling and he looked at us as we lowered the boat into the sea. Damn, that horse is going to wake someone up:

“Shiii! Altivo...” I whispered to him and signaled silence, that horse was smart, but he kept stubbornly neighing.

“Arg! What does that horse want?” Tulio asked angrily.

“He wants the apple.” Miguel laughed as he took out the apple that was hidden in his clothes. That's what he had stolen.

“Then give it to him before he wakes up the whole ship!” Tulio impatiently took the apple from Miguel's hands and threw it back into the ship, the horse soon falling silent.

As I was sitting down, I took the opportunity to take off the rest of my disguise, since I was without my false moustache, I took off my hat and let my hair down. After a few seconds, the apple that Tulio had thrown came back and fell into the sea:

“How this?...”

Before I could finish the question, the three of us were startled by Altivo jumping into the water to get the apple, which was very unexpected:

“Altivo!”

Miguel shouted, letting go of the rope and jumping into the sea to save that horse. As soon as he let go of the rope, the boat became unbalanced and fell into the water, I almost fell into the sea and Tulio became a little unbalanced too:

“Miguel!” Túlio shouted as he rowed over to the blond who was trying to help the horse.

I held out my hand for Miguel to take and climbed back into the boat. Holy shit, how are we going to save him and that horse?!

A caravel passed right by our rowing boat, and the wave it caused caused our boat to capsize:

“Oh no!” I exclaimed frightened and nervous as I held on to the boat, I didn't know how to swim. “No! No! No!”

We shouted as soon as the boat capsized, I couldn't hold on and fell straight into the water, desperate, I was trying to keep myself afloat, flapping my feet and hands anyway:

“I can't swim!” I said as I tried to breathe, but the water was entering my mouth and nose, suffocating me. “Help!”

The boys managed to swim to the overturned boat and climbed in, then saw the situation I was in:

“Hold on!” Túlio held out his hand. No fucking way!

“No!...” The water went straight into my mouth and I choked. “I'd rather drown!”

“Miguel, wrap the rope around the horse and pull on three!” Tulio said, handing Miguel the rope.

“But what about Y/n?” Miguel asked, but Tulio interrupted.

“Just do it! Quickly!”

I knew I shouldn't trust them. Gradually I sank and lost air, I still wasn't giving up and I was desperate to get to the surface, but it was no use, my nose started to sting and the water started to invade, my vision gradually blurred and I blacked out.

~ {Pov} Tulio:

Miguel and I pulled the boat and managed to get it unstuck with Altivo inside, we climbed exhausted into the boat:

“Where's Y/n?” I asked and Miguel pointed, a little dizzy and catching his breath.

I looked where Miguel pointed and saw only the girl's hand, she was sinking. I wasted no time and jumped back into the water, swimming over to her, who was passed out. I dived in and luckily managed to catch her and swam back to the boat, holding her:

“Oh my, Y/n...”

Miguel was very worried when he saw the fainted girl and helped me get her back into the boat. I climbed in, and the first thing I did was to put my head on her chest to listen to her heartbeat, but it was impossible because of her bodice and the large number of bands she was wearing on her breasts, I think because of her disguise. I can't believe I'm going to do this...

I lifted her clothes a little and took off the straps and bodice, which were squeezing her body. Miguel looked at me reproachfully as if to say "What are you doing?", but I ignored it, I'm just trying to save her. I mean... I won't deny that it was nice to see her body and a bit of her breasts, after all, she is attractive. I put my head on her chest again, I could hear her heart:

“She's alive.” I said as I patted her face to wake her up. “Come on... come on, Y/n... Breathe!”

I kept doing this and after a few seconds she woke up. I didn't want to admit it, but I was quite relieved.

~ {Pov} Y/n:

I woke up, regaining consciousness, coughing and spitting out the water that had gotten in, my breath was burning and I was trying to catch my breath, they really had saved me?

“Y/n!!!” Miguel hugged me tightly. “I thought you'd left us!”

“Less, Miguel...” Tulio said and the blonde slowly let me go. “Let her breathe, you'll end up killing the girl that way.”

“W-Who...” I tried to speak, but I was still coughing.

“Is there any food left at least?” Túlio asked, catching his breath.

“Ah... yes and no...” Miguel replied. The food had gone into the sea and Altivo had eaten almost everything else they had salvaged.

“Oh no!” Tulio lamented and put his hands on his head.

“Tulio, look on the bright side, it can't get...” Before he could finish speaking, the heavy rain suddenly started.

“Would you say 'WORSE', perhaps?!” Tulio asked him angrily.

“No, I wouldn't...” Miguel lied.

“No?” Tulio asked again.

“No, seriously, I've already reconsidered my optimism...”

I just watched them, sitting next to Altivo and controlling my breathing, after all, I had almost drowned. I found it strange that I was breathing better and didn't feel "tight", and that's when I realized that I was without my corset and my sash, which I had tightened on purpose to hide my breasts in the disguise... so wait a minute... no, they didn't do that... I felt my face heat up a lot, how embarrassing, I hope they didn't see anything. Still sitting down, I put my knees in front of me and hugged my legs, I wasn't wearing anything underneath and my clothes were wet, almost transparent:

“I told you it wouldn't be a good idea to take her!” Tulio said angrily to Miguel and pointed at me. Hey, wait a minute! “Women are always a bad omen at sea!”

“Arg! shut up!” I said, still sitting down. “I had nothing to do with it, it wouldn't have happened if that horse hadn't jumped into the sea.” Altivo neighed, complaining. “Sorry, boy.”

“Before I suspected you were a curse, now I'm sure!”

“Oh really?!” I asked sarcastically and moved closer to him and Miguel. “I've barely started raising hell in your life yet! What do you want me to do now? Throw you to the sharks?”

“Better than living on this trip with you!”

“Guys, please...” Miguel butted in and approached us. “Stop it, of course we're going to have a lot of obstacles on this trip, but we'll manage. Relax.”

He moved away from us, picked up the oars and started rowing:

“I'm starting to regret taking part in this...” I mumbled to myself as I tried to calm down and put my fingers on my eyebrows, I'm going to avoid fighting with Tulio just for Miguel.

“Yeah, me too.”

“You bastard.” I muttered to Tulio.

“Stubborn.” He muttered back.

“Stupid.”

“Liar.”

“Little fucking thief.”

“Masculine.”

“Guys!” Miguel scolded us.

“All right!” Tulio and I said angrily in a chorus.

We were shivering after diving into the sea and the cold water from the heavy rain that was falling on us. I hope the sea doesn't get too rough with this storm...

Continue...

[katsu28]

🍭 lollipop -26. “Just breathe. Like that. That’s it” from List 4 with steve pls?? ty<3

i combined this one with another request—"relax, i've got you." because i thought they went pretty hand in hand with each other, i hope that's okay! ty for requesting! <3

dad!steve harrington x pregnant!reader, mentions of pain and pregnancy symptoms, 1.3k

Being pregnant was proving to be one of the hardest things in your life. You’d had enough dizziness and nausea in your first trimester to last you a lifetime, enough achiness and swollen feet in your second than anyone should ever have, and now in your third, you’d discovered something brand new to put on your list of pregnancy woes.

False labor pains, otherwise known as Braxton-Hicks contractions (as Steve had very quickly informed you after a trip to the library that resulted in a pile of what to expect when you’re expecting-esque books residing next to his side of the bed). Paired with an extremely active baby girl with a horse strength kick who loved to make it known 24/7, this home stretch was your toughest one yet.

The telltale open and shut of the front door signaled Steve’s arrival, even before his voice. “Honey, I’m home!!!” He sang.

You made a vague noise of acknowledgement from your sprawled out position on the couch, waving your hand over your head haphazardly. You’d been stuck in the same spot for almost the whole day, seeing as every time you tried to get up, either another well placed kick or a false contraction dragged you right back down.

“How’re my girls doing?”

“Your daughter’s doing her daily karate routine against my organs, but other than that we’re great.”

“Oh so she’s gonna do karate now? I thought she was gonna be a tap dancer? Or a soccer player?” Steve teased gently, tossing his keys into the bowl on the table near the front door. He kicked his shoes off too, hanging his jacket on the hook next to yours before crossing the room to rub your shoulders with a kiss pressed to the top of your head.

“She can be all of them when she grows up, but I wish she’d stop it right now.”

He let out a snort of laughter, rounding the couch and kneeling in front of you. One hand came to rub your belly gently, the other coming to land on your knee. “Anything I can do for you?”

“Tell her to cut it out.” Another laugh from him. “How was work?”

“Pretty uneventful. Robin says hi though, wanted me to ask if you two were still on for lunch on Tuesday?”

“Oh my god, I totally forgot to call her back!” You gasped, hands scrabbling for purchase on the couch cushions as if you wanted to push yourself up.

“Hey, hey, slow your roll, sweetheart. Take it easy, I’ll give her a call later.” Steve eased you back down, shooting you a pointed look when you pouted up at him. “I promise, ‘mkay?”

“‘Mkay.” You sighed, slumping back into your previous position. Then, barely even taking a beat, you shot up straight again, this time moving to grab Steve’s shoulders as leverage.

His brows furrowed in instant concern. “What? What’s happening now? Are you okay?”

“Gotta pee.”

“Jesus, you really scared me for a second there,” He breathed, pressing a hand against his chest but going to help you up anyways.

The second you made it to your feet, you were hit with another Braxton-Hicks, this one so big that you would’ve keeled over at the strength of it if not for Steve still holding on to you. You squeezed your eyes shut, sinking back down on the couch yet again with a choked whimper. For something called false labor, the pain sure was really goddamn real. “Whoa, okay. Relax, I’ve got you. You’re alright, sweetheart, you’re doing great. Just relax.”

“Tell me to relax one more time and I’m gonna wring your neck, Harrington.” You said through gritted teeth, fisting his shirt in your hand as if it would help you ride out the pain.

Steve ignored your threat, because he knew you didn’t actually mean it. You’d been growing a whole tiny human inside you for the past eight months, the least he could do was stomach a few gripes here and there. “Squeeze my hands. Just squeeze my hands, it’ll help.”

You gladly took him up on the offer, borderline crushing his hands with a strength neither you nor him knew you had, but he’d never complain about it. A popped knuckle and temporary loss of blood flow was nothing compared to what you’d been having to endure nonstop.

Tears welled up in your eyes at the worsening spasm in your back and abdomen, like someone had taken your insides and was twisting them around in their grip.

“Just breathe. In through the nose, out through the mouth.” Steve soothed, mimicking the deep breaths he wanted you to take. “Like that, that’s it. There you go. Just like that, baby.”

“This is the cramp from hell, Steve, deep breathing isn’t helping anything.”

“Okay, alright, let’s try something else then. Didn’t the doctor say moving around would help lessen the pain?” He suggested, trying his best to rack his brain despite the numbness creeping through his hands. “Or maybe drink some water? I can get you a glass of—”

“Can you just shut up for a minute?” The sharpness in your words shocked you, and should’ve shocked Steve too, but he didn’t seem phased at all, instead just nodding, gazing up at you with wide honey eyes currently filled with concern.

Guilt pooled in you as soon as the contraction finally subsided, and somehow, the guilt felt worse. Steve had been nothing less than the perfect partner this entire pregnancy, and here you were snapping at him for being supportive. Again.

You inhaled a shaky breath, bringing his hands up and pressing a kiss to each of his palms. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Stevie, I don’t mean to be mean to you, I just—”

“I’m gonna stop you right there, okay? You can do and say anything you want to me, sweetheart, and you never have to apologize. You’re carrying our kid, you’ve got every right to be as mean as you want.” He assured you, cupping your face. His thumbs stroked across your cheeks featherlight despite the firmness in his grip. “I’m a big boy, I can take it. Never be sorry. You don’t have to be.”

“I love you,” You sighed miserably, melting against him like a popsicle on a hot summer day.

“I love you most, sweetheart.” He replied softly, leaning down to press his lips against your belly before adding something. “And I love you most too, baby girl, even though you’re giving your mom a tough time right now.”

“I swear, she’s bullying me more and more everyday.”

He chuckled softly, smoothing a hand down your back in light circles. “I’m sure that’s just her way of saying she’s excited to meet us.”

“I know. I’m so excited to meet her and I know she’s already everything we’ve ever dreamed of, but I’d kill to be able to sleep on my stomach again.”

“One more month, baby. Just one more month and then you can sleep on your stomach all you want.” He murmured, breath ghosting across your skin with each word.

“One more month.” You echoed, curling your hand around the back of his neck. One more month of discomfort for a lifetime of anything and everything with your baby girl. That, you were excited for. Slightly terrified, but definitely more excited. “I’m nervous. Are you?”

“Oh yeah. Nearly-shitting-my-pants nervous. All the time. I don’t think that feeling is ever gonna go away, honestly.” He snorted, nodding sharply. He pressed one more kiss to your belly. “But it’s worth it. As long as I have my two girls, anything is worth it.”

“I hate how perfect you’re being right now.”

“Just right now? I think you mean always.”

You pressed your lips together suddenly, scrunching your nose at him. “Stevie, you’re about to hate me.”

“I could never, but good try.”

“I still need to pee.”

Steve barked out a laugh, heaving himself to his feet and gearing up to help you in your endless attempts at standing up. “C’mon, preggers, let’s get you to the bathroom before karate kid in there decides to try out for a new belt.”

[satureja13]

The Boys rode through the pouring rain across the Bridge over to Koh Sahpa. And the horses stopped by a stilt house. Jack: "Are we going to stay here? Woah! When I showed Ji Ho the beach after he arrived we saw a stilt house and we talked about how awesome they are and we asked Arturo if we can buy a lot here to build one..." Vlad: "Arturo told us. Kiyoshi, Jeb and I built it to make it up to you. It's not finished yet. You were only supposed to see it later. " (So that was their secret project!) So Kiyoshi built this house. For Jack. (Even Lunatic is stunned ^w^)

So Jeb built this house. For Saiwa. Sai had put all his hopes in that circuit board because he has no idea how he is supposed to look Jeb in the eyes again after they 'agreed' that Sai should give in to a fake relationship with Kiyoshi to bring him back from the tree. Because they thought Kiyoshi is Saiwa's fated mate. But he wasn't. Saiwa stared into nowhere... Before Sai could follow these thoughts further he got distracted by the noise of the singing birds. Why are they so loud? Bird... (They really are so loud here ö.Ö') He has no idea how to go on.

Vlad: "Look after them and try to finish the rest." (Yeah I know. Who would trust crazy Jack with looking after anyone? Usually he is the one they need to look after and care for. But Vlad trusts him. Because he knows the Jack behind his disorders and antics (and the ones who know adult Jack from our other stories know it too :3) And he knows that he can rely on him when it comes to it.) Jack: "You're leaving? What about the Bond?" Vlad: "Jeb and Kiyoshi need me. They are broken too. I will feel it when it's due to charge the Bond."

Jack: "When you feel it Ji Ho already suffers. He has the deeper connection to the Bond. Don't let him beg for it. The intervals are always the same when you don't use it's magic. Just come here in time and do it." Vlad: "Uhm. Ok." Vlad and his foolish pride and reluctance. Luci had been bolder... And Ji Ho often said that he doesn't mind physical intimacy with Vlad.

Then it was time for Vlad to leave - to look after Jeb and Kiyoshi... He is hesitating.

And Jack took Saiwa inside to give them time to get their stuff together. Oh my, after all they already did with each other they still behave like this...

Vlad: "The Bond. I will be back before..." Ji Ho: "Ok."

They held on to each other a bit longer than usual. Maybe the Bond hates it to see them apart or maybe they will miss each other. Who knows?

Vlad left and Ji Ho went inside. Ji Ho: "Oh. He's already sleeping. I hope he changes his mind about Tiny Can. I could really need some help from a therapist. Even if it's only an AI." Jack: "An AI is even better! He knows everything and is always up to date with the latest research and discoveries! He must have scanned countless articles, diagnoses, therapy approaches, research papers... I'm so ready to try it and get stuff fixed in my furry brain."

They sighed and turned around to take in the view. And just across the river there was the stilt house they had admired a few weeks ago. Just the one Kiyoshi, Vlad and Jeb built is so much more beautiful. Because they built it with love 💞

'There's a message in the wild And I'm sending you this signal tonight You don't know how desperate I've become And it looks like I'm losing this fight

In your world I have no meaning Though I'm trying hard to understand And it's my heart that's breaking Down this long distance line tonight

But I ain't missing you at all Since you've been gone away I ain't missing you No matter what I might say'

Missing You - John Waite Link above leads to the MV on youtube

From the Beginning  ~  Underwater Love ~  Latest 🕹️ 'Therapy Game' from the beginning ▶️ here 📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 17-22 ~ 23-28

[papakhan]

Episode 1

Fuck it, I'm gonna do it anyway. Here's all the notes I took when watching episode 1 of the godawful fallout tv show. enjoy. I'm gonna run through this with notes I made while I watched the show so formatting might be kinda weird, I haven't done anything like this before so bare with me. I will try to explain things as if you the reader have not seen the show. This is gonna be very long and heavy on the hate and the spoilers.

Content warnings:

rape

incest

gif of the fight scene violence

self harming

Things I liked:

Vault Dwellers reusing the same wedding dress and everyone who'd worn it writing their names on the inside. that's sweet

"don't lose your head" vault poster during a firefight

Johnny Cash

I like Brotherhood Clerics but they totally fucked up the ranking system

The vault dwellers just painting over the blood on the walls

Horses are canon now

Goofy wasteland urban legends like "a feral ghoul does not abide a chicken"

That's literally it. Now it's time for everything else. I'll break it down into character bits since that's what the show does

Cooper

So Cooper Cowboy ghoul man is divorced and he's at this birthday party in I'm guessing Hollywood overlooking LA. It's a beautiful sunny day :) Bare in mind that in this scene the nukes drop so Bethesda has already fucked their own lore of the nukes dropping at 9:40am in Boston would mean that it should be 6:40am in California. Sunrise in California in October is 7am, btw. So already we're fucked. Real "design documents are a waste of time" behaviour on display here.

Anyway, nuke goes off. Now let me ask you something. What's one of the most infamous things about nuclear bombs? The flash, right? A nuclear explosion is bright enough to blind a person. Fallout 4 understood this, at least a little, where the flash of light from the bomb would fill your screen even if you weren't facing it, which is how nukes work. Closing your eyes in the face of a nuke would be pointless because the light would pass through your eyelids. There's even reports of people who held up their hands to shield the light and could see THEIR BONES THROUGH THEIR HANDS. That's how bright they are. They are horrifying weapons of mass destruction.

The nuke that hits LA is not a nuke, the flash of light on Janey's face (cooper's kid and the ONE SINGLE PERSON who notices a NUCLEAR FUCKING BOMB) is more akin to a camera flash. again. she is the only fucking person who notices a nuclear bomb go off, everyone else at the party is distracted by a TV of all things.

In the time between the ""flash"" of the bomb here's everything that happens before Cooper and co feel the shockwave

Janey notices the pathetic flash and looks up.

She holds up her thumb in the "vault boy" way

Cooper comes out of the house and walks over to Janey

He crouches down beside her and says some bullshit along the lines of "i got some cake for my favourite cowgirl"

Janey says "was it your thumb or my thumb?"

Cooper looks towards the source of the nuke and slowly stands up, watching it for a moment

He says "that's just a fire janey" as the smoke unfurls into a very obvious mushroom cloud

He realises that it was not. just a fire

then they get hit by a shockwave

This takes almost a full minute and none of the segments is supposed to be slow motion. Listen I know that light moves faster than sound and heat but come on. It's way too slow and also. dead fucking silent. also the shockwave comes before the mushroom cloud but who cares.

Anyway cooper gets on a horse with the girl and rides off down the road in the direction of LA. good job dude.

I've already read up about yknow who it was who wanted the nukes fired and I know that it was Barb who wanted the nukes dropped on America for?? vault tec profit??? so uh. why did she let Janey go to a birthday party with Cooper?

Lucy

x3 Incest jokes may not seem like a lot but it was 3 too many for me. I hate the "good karma" noise that played when Lucy got arranged married. I said I liked the vault poster of "don't lose your head" but I hate the way Lucy keeps getting her inspiration from Vault Boy I'm sorry but its annoying and dumb to me. Interconnected vaults in LA is also. dumb. you're telling me The Master didn't notice these fucking things? you're kidding. Look at it, it's not even hidden in a cave or anything its just out in the open.

Way to retroactively make the Master look like a moron, though I know they do this to Mr House later on. ugh.

Her intro makes it sound like she's supposed to have Tagged Skills in repair, speech and science but she displays none of this in the later episodes I have seen, in fact her speech seems like utter dogshit so what was the point in introducing her in a "game protag" way if none of that was gonna get used later?

Anyway, lets get onto the raiders. If you know me, you know I love raiders. They're a cool and interesting critique of individualism and "might makes right" and also aesthetically just kind of fuck.

Now, knowing what I know about Moldaver and her being the current ?leader of the NCR remnants, that implies that the people she has led into Vault 33 are former NCR citizens or soldiers, right? right?

So the ""fall of shady sands"" according to the show is 2277 and yeah sure okay that's during new vegas' time and sure okay right todd howard promised that this didn't de-canonise fallout new vegas. however. it's 2296 meaning it's been 19 years since Shady Sand's.......decline. and 15 years since New Vegas where we last saw the NCR. And i know that the NCR aren't exactly the good guys To suggest that in less than 20 years the citizens of shady sands have been reduced to Bethesda-style raiders who:

Are unable to use utensils such as knives and forks

Can't grow crops

Don't know how to use cups

Will rape a woman, wipe his dick on a curtain, and then try to murder said woman

Shoveling fistfuls of cake into their mouth during a firefight

Threatening a pregnant woman

In another episode one of these guys is interrogated/interviews and shows their asshole to the guy talking to him.

is fucking ludicrous

Anyway Monty looks like Jerma

RIP

Anywayyyy how come only Lucy's pipboy picked up on the radiation from these outsiders huh? everyone else was wearing a pipboy during the wedding, they sat next to each other, those geigar counters would have been going off. what? they had them on silent out of respect of a good Christian wedding? if you try to convince me that's the explanation I will eat your liver. Bethesda raider style

anyway no.2 girlypop (lucy) straight up pulls a knife out of her wound which is medical petpeeve no.9394328 for me but then its immediately resolved by a stimpak. I hate how stimpaks in the show are used exactly how they are in the game. I was under the impression that it was a video game mechanic and not how it actually worked in the narrative. What's next? Jet gives me extra action points or some shit? I'm so tired

the fight scene sucked. the choreography of the raider guy shooting a vault dweller through the head of another vault dweller just kind of looked like shit and seemed impractical, clearly just there to be like WOAH THATS COOL it wasn't cool it looked clunky and weird. do not fucking tell me that fallout is supposed to be clunky and weird I will kill you.

the doors cutting the raider in half was also dumb since its been routinely established that the dull and ominous "thunk. thunk. thunk" heard deep in the bowels of a vault is a door that's trying to close but there's something stuck under it, if they could just slice a whole man in half then they could cut through a table or skeleton in game. Also irl I'm a health and safety officer and that moment made my toes curl. lol

It jumps from Lucy to Max and then back to lucy but I'm just gonna continue talking about her shit here. quick fire round because I've been yapping too long already

Her little brother looks way too old to be acting like a teenager this much.

Chet (Lucy's cousin and ex boyfriend. gross) wants to come with her thank god he doesn't

why doesn't she give a shit about the sky

Why doesn't she give a shit about the ocean

Maximus

"stupid blimp is back" is at the very top of my notes, lol. anyway I still don't understand where they got this thing from

Latrines made out of stacks of tires is so dumb. like I cant even explain how dumb that is. surely rubber has better use for that. surely. just shit in a hole in the ground like everyone else please for the love of god

I know the twist with Daine and let it be said, having your first on screen transgender character cut themselves with razors to get out of the military is not, in fact, Bethesda trying to be on the side of transgender people, it is in fact them making fun of us, okay? do we understand?

hiding baby max is a fridge made me so angry I blacked out. do not remind me of "kid in a fridge" ever again.

Anyway Bethesda finds it so difficult to keep the BOS consistent to the point that they are all so different from each other with little to no explanation as to why they've changed so much. In fact it feels like to me that at some point between fallout 3 and fallout 4 Bethesda has totally mixed up the BOS and the Enclave, since now the BOS hate ghouls for no reason and want to colonise the wasteland. This is just that again. Once more, no design doc behaviour.

Quotes from the BOS i think suck ass

"Duty of the Brotherhood of Steel is to secure the wasteland"

"Flesh is weak by steel endures"

"Violence is a tool we use it to bring order to the wasteland"

When Max is getting interrogated for being a suspect for cutting Daine with razors, mentions "send me to Eden or wherever" and it confused me so much. The only Eden I knew about was John Henry Eden from Fallout 3. Turns out I think what they're trying to reference is New Eden a BOS base from. Fallout Brotherhood of Steel 2?? of all fucking things?? really strange I can't imagine what else he could possibly be referencing though. This is literally just thrown in for the loreheads and I hate it.

Anyway after being a suspect for cutting Daine with razors and also failing his classes Max gets a promotion! this is not explained. They also brand him which people a lot smarter than me have discussed at length about why branding a black guy on screen in your fallout show is a bad idea. Read it here.

I don't really understand why the BOS all do shit in latin now, I know some of them had latin names in fo1 but IIRC Frank Horrigan of the Enclave was the only person in the og games who spoke latin. it feels like Bethesda wanting to capture the interest of people who liked the Legion. maybe that's a reach but given how much right wing propaganda is in the coming episodes I wouldn't put it past them.

Cooper again

I am not calling this idiot The Ghoul that's fucking dumb. what like he's the only one? ever? dumb. whats up with him being buried huh? did Todd not want to tell Nolan that ghouls arent actually zombies and arent actually undead? that just wanted him to jump out a coffin because oooh spooky zombie. honestly just kill me.

My notes: "Don't tell me the ghoul is in that grave I can't take it"

this guy gets dug up once a year and gets pieces of him cut off and put back?? why? for what purpose? how is he down there without eating or drinking? is it a kid in a fridge moment where ghouls don't need to eat or drink, well he drinks a whole lot of water in episode 3 so that's afucking lie. get real. the glowing IV? what is that??

the yodelling is really gonna piss me off, isn't it.

Not him ending the episode on the same quote he said to his daughter. whatever.

Rating: 3/10

[mysoulremains]

The first thing Hob became aware of was his headache. It started from his forehead, until slowly all he felt was the pain. He closed his eyes for a little comfort, but it barely seemed to help at all. He sat down on the edge of his bed and held his head in his hands. Damn.

It happened all of a sudden. One minute he was in his own bedroom, the next loud noises could be heard all around him, the smell of ale hit his nose and he felt the tickle of a beard between his fingers. He let go of his head and opened his eyes, much to his own surprise. He gasped, eyes wide at what he saw.

He was in The White Horse. In the 14th century.

Now, he knew this wasn't possible. It couldn't have been happening. Did he fall asleep? Was this a dream? Where was Morpheus?

One of his friends poked him with an elbow and a laugh Hob had not heard in a long time, he forgot what the man sounded like. He forgot his name. He still retained some memories of the people around him, but 633 years was a long time. He didn't keep a journal back then.

"Hey Hobsie, you alright?" asked the one across him, another voice that was buried deep in his mind, barely recalled. It was spoken in a language he had not heard in such a long time, but one that would always remain in his heart. His mother tongue, Middle English. Oh, he missed it so much.

"You went all silent on us for a moment there," added the third one at their table.

Hob decided to roll with the punches. He was immortal, he had to learn to go along with things until he could figure out what to do. Sometimes it landed him in a pile of gold, sometimes a pile of shit. He coughed a bit and laughed, trying to hide his unease.

"Uh, yeah, I was just thinking," he said and looked down at the mug in front of him. That really took him back. He decided to try the ale inside, the burn in his throat familiar as he gulped it down, and fuck — he was really in the past. Before he met Morpheus.

To be more precise, minutes before he met Morpheus. He didn't like it, he didn't like it one bit. Would he need to insult his sister to restart their entire journey? Did he need to make a fool out of himself as the two Endless entered the inn?

"Don't lose your head doing it now!" More laughter rang out around him table, and the conversation was going in a very familiar way.

Hob sighed. Soon, Death would enter the tavern, followed by her little brother, and after a few moments Hob would need to repeat history for them to meet. He didn't really like it, nor the idea that their relationship needed to start from the beginning all over again, but he would try. Didn't mean it wouldn't hurt to not see the recognition, familiarity and love in those starry eyes, but hey, maybe the clean start could leave to a better future.

The door opened, then in walked the siblings, Death in her own elegant robes and Dream, Morpheus in his own black clothes with the ruby hanging around his neck.

Hob's grip on his mug became desperate, and he almost looked away when Morpheus glanced at him. Did that happen the first time they met too, or was he just hoping for something unbelievable?

The conversation around him continued, and Hob knew he needed to pick it up.

Sorry Death, you're lovely, but I need to do this, he thought as he opened his mouth to speak.

"Look, I've seen Death." And this time he meant it. The family visits with her were the best, and he finally got to thank her for granting him immortality — of course that all hasn't happened yet. And would not happen if Hob didn't act like he did all those years ago. But the time for panic would only come later, he needed to focus on his current mission.

Gain immortality and get noticed by Dream.

Hob continued with as much as he could remember, he wasn't sure if he jumbled it all up (when did he fight under Burgundy? Was it before, or after, he could not recall, it had been so long) but he still tried.

"Death is... stupid," he said with a finality to his tone. I'm sorry, he added in his mind.

He saw both of them turn around towards him in the corner of his eye, and he continued with the conversation. His friends laughed at him, just like they did the first time — except for them, this was the first time.

"What would you do with immortality?" asked one of his mates, clearly tipsy, and Hob remembered the words he said to that.

"Get better friends than you, that's what." Well... He got better friends than them. And worse friends. The centuries following were ever changing, just like Hob had become, and the years of experience inside his old body didn't sit right with him.

He could see Morpheus slowly walking up to him, and he anticipated the next words, almost mouthing them alongside the man.

"Did I hear you say you have no intention of ever dying?" asked Dream and Hob looked up at him in wonder. He looked cold, more distant than ever, his eyes betraying the familiarity he saw when he looked at Hob and—

Wait.

Familiarity?

"Uh, yeah, yeah you're right." Hob squinted to try to get a better look at Morpheus and his expression, why was familiarity there? At that point in time Dream should have looked upon him with disdain, or like an experiment he wanted to fail. What was the kindness doing there? And what was the pain doing there?

"Then you must tell me what it's like," Morpheus continued. Hob wanted to laugh, because this was actually happening. He needed to start from the beginning.

"Let us meet here, Hob Gadling, in this tavern of The White Horse, in one hundred years," he said and Hob froze.

Hob Gadling?

Didn't Dream say Robert Gadling in 1389?

He gazed into Dream's eyes, and stood up suddenly, surprising both himself, his friends and Morpheus himself.

"You know who I am," Hob whispered out, eyes wide, which in turn made the man before him freeze. "Are you here as well? Or is this a dream?"

Hob knew he needed to give a clue, but he also didn't want his friends to realize what was going on. It could have been the work of a demon, or something worse. Who knew what other creatures existed?

"You... remember?" Morpheus asked, almost worried for an answer.

"Everything." Hob nodded. "We need to talk."

[dingbatnix]

uhm lol are you going to continue maneater it is probably one of my favorites and i really want to see more of it lol take your time.

I am! Currently, I'm working on a timeline for the plot!

The way I've written this one is a little weird. It's my fourth brainchild, but since I'm already working on three multi-chapter fics already, I don't wanna start on another one. Sooo, I'm writing the timeline, and I'll post that, and then if I feel like it, I'll write fics of specific events in the timeline. It may take me a very long while, though.

And just for you, since you asked about one of my favorites, have a snippet!

Tw: murder, blood, hard vore, death

It had only been a couple of months since Punz had found out that Dream was a man-eating giant. Even more, he was a giant that could swallow and kill a human, and then gulp down somebody else without even hurting them. Punz didn’t entirely understand how that could possibly work (and he wasn’t sure that he wanted to know) but George had said that Dream had two separate stomachs; one for…one for digesting things, and one that didn’t do much of anything at all.

It was an accident, how he found out. He had been on a scouting mission with Dream, George, and Sapnap, miles and miles away from their little village of hybrids and outcasts. Punz had stayed behind to set up camp before night fell while the other three had gone ahead to make sure that the area was clear of various dangers, like mobs or any traveling hunters.

Punz had finished striking up the camp (it had been easy, all he needed to do was dig a fire pit, get some food for himself, George, and Sapnap cooking, and lay out the sleeping rolls) and had decided to follow after the rest of his group. It hadn’t been very difficult. No matter how much he claimed to be stealthy, Dream was a giant. He left a noticeable trail of destruction wherever he went. So, it had been easy enough to find them, but the sight he came to had frozen him in his tracks.

It was Dream, towering over a small path between the trees, with blood dripping down from his chin. Normally, Punz wouldn’t have been bothered. Dream ate whole animals and even mobs all the time, so Punz was used to that. No, what had terrified him was the limp, human form slumped over in the giant’s fist.

At his feet, a rickety wagon sat somewhat askew to the path, horse having broken free of its harness and, more alarmingly, Sapnap and George casually picking through the bags and chests inside the wagon. They didn’t seem to care at all as Dream raised the unmoving person higher and higher and higher, up towards his face. Punz could only watch with a gut-churning dread as the giant dropped the former owner of the cart into his mouth. There was a horrifically wet crunch, and then the distant sound of the giant swallowing.

Punz had let out a small noise of shock and stumbled back, noisily crushing forest debris underfoot and drawing the attention of the three men before him.

Like a slow, haunting owl, Dream's masked face swiveled towards Punz, and he could feel the giant's gaze lock onto his own fearful eyes. The sight sent chills dancing up and down his spine, and his mouth had dried instantly.

He had turned tail and ran, but George and Sapnap quickly caught up to him and pinned him down until Dream could catch up. Then they had all explained what was going on, that Dream actually needed to consume humans to stay sane. Then they tacked on that–that using the people who were traveling near the valley their village resided in was convenient, because word would spread that the forest was dangerous and that you'd disappear if you went in. Ergo, it kept humans away from the little sanctuary Dream, Sapnap, and George had created.

It had taken some convincing, but Punz finally relented and agreed not to say anything to anyone in the village. For one, it would invite mass panic in their little community, and most everyone would probably try to move away and die at the hands of humans. For second, Punz wasn't about to argue with the literal giant that could kill him in one bite. He wasn’t that dumb.

So, it's kinda dark, but, y'know, that's what makes it one of my favorites. Of course, the whole thing isn't just Dream running around eating people (that's more of a side note) the story is more focused on the characters, their families, and the kingdom trying to exterminate Dream and his little village.

Taglist:

@brick-a-doodle-do @i-am-beckyu @da3dm @kayla-crazy-stuffs @local-squishmallow @skullsnbruises @munchkin1156 @gt-daboss

[alaydabug2]

I'm in the car and I'm bored en

SO HERES A LIST OF MY MEDICAL ISSUES IVE HAD THROUGHOUT LIFE 😃

Vaugly related to my fanfic

Tetrology of Fallot (tof): congenital (born with it) heart defect that is basically 4 defects in 1 (I do not have the energy to look up or type all those scientific words rn so sorry)

I've had 3 open heart surgeries to fix it o e at 8 days 10 months and 5 years

Died 6 times on the second one 😃

Ngl life isn't too different with it

If you don't count the yearly doctor visits and can't play contact sports

I mean there's more to it that that obviously but it's mainly small things like getting out of breath quicker and I bruise easy because of having to take baby asprin

BUT the doctors ORIGINALLY said I was never gonna be able to walk or talk or do anything for myself

God vetoed that decision 😌

NOW I NEVER SHUT UP 😁

Got a nifty battle scar down my chest as a souvenir ☺️

And I used to be called smurf baby cause I turned blue alot

I make jokes about it now (hush I'm allowed to )

Ngl pretty sure I'm short cause failure to thrive as a baby cause of that 😭

Don't think there's any scientific backing on that tho for tof patients

Imperferated anus + colostomy bag: basically means I was born without a butthole

Not even joking on that i wasnt

But had to have three gastrointestinal surgeries from that

Don't know the ages or many details but I'm pretty sure I was two for the last one

And I had to have a colostomy bag

Thankfully don't remember it

Buy my waste went into a bag that had to be changed out

Ik it got infected so the scar is bugger than it should be

Seizures: if you've read my fanfic that's explained in detail for how it feels

But that was from aged 5-10

We never found the specific reasons for it

But we do hypothesize it has something tk do with possible scar tissue on my brain

Either from a heart attack/stroke/lack of oxygen from my second heart surgery is what we think it could be from

During a seizure my heart would start beating weird (not good description ik but idk how to describe it really) and my vision would start to tunnel out my tongue would tingle and then I'd black out

During a seizure I couldn't hear anything or see anything but my head would completely start to tingle

From my parents I was told during them I would stiffen up and lock my joints and almost seem to hyperventilate

It was control moderately well by medicine but I thankfully do not have them anymore

Hard hearing: im not like deaf or anything nor do I use hearing aids but my hearing isn't what it should be for a normal teenager lol

This is because during one of my heart surgeries they gave me a drug used on horses and a little too much if it at that (ketamine?)

Legally blind: yeah come to find out last year found out my eye sight is actual crap

Without my glasses I am legally blind

I've got 20/200 vision 😭

So I've got these crazy thick glasses now

Tourretts: neurological disorder where I make these random noises and movents

Got diagnosed back in sixth grade

My tics ate ill make various sounding noises (all kinda of variations of a hiccup for visualization) and my head will jerk back

It was awful before we found out what it was

Got picked on for it quite a bit and a certain teacher of mine essentially told me "just stop bro lol" and I'd get sent out of class for it even after we had doctor notes for it

Just get up out of that wheel chair then then buddy ☺️

They'd get set off my certain things

Music being one of them so I would carry around these earbuds when there was music around so it didn't get set off

I'm on medicine now for it and it's a LOT better

And a recent development (in the past 6 months) I've been able to listen to music again!

The tourretts aren't going away tho

If over been without medicine for more than 2 days it's BAD

Ovarian cyst (possible pcos?) : this has happened over this summer so you already got some rants on that lol

Buy I've got an 8cm cyst on my left ovary

Hurts like a beach 😃

In fact this Friday I was holed up in my room hyped up on narcotics cause of it

Fun stuff 🙂

Surgery is supposed to be on October 5th so we'll see how that goes

Yeah so medical history of mine 😃

That's fine

We'll see what comes next to the collection I can add

Also here's some pics of a couple of my scars (that I can show several are in places I'm not keen of people seeing 😅)

That's my colostomy scar

And near the top you can see a scar from a chest tube from my third heart surgery

And here's a really good picture of my heart surgery scar that I have (goes down to under the ribcage)

On my neck you can see a breathing tube scar

At least I think that's what it is

Also the corner of my lip I have a scar from some sort of tube from surgery (can't see it well on camera

Tbh idk what half these tiny scars are from

I just know they're remnants of surgery

Any way I do know kw I have a couple of other chest tube scars

But they are not in places to be shown

Same with a few dimples near my tail bone from gastrointestinal surgery

But those are there too

[bluestar22x]

A Bad Fall

Summary: Joel witnesses Ellie falling off a horse in Jackson

Characters: Joel Miller, Ellie Williams (Joel POV)

Rating: 13+

Warnings: Mild injury, fowl language, worried!Joel

Word Count: 1,200 (ish)

Author’s Note: This is an AU to anything that happens in future seasons. Joel and Ellie's relationship has already been tested, but everything has been resolved between them. No spoilers for those who've never seen the games.

This was created for @solanumofthestars as part of cat and han's 2024 friendship exchange @swiftiscruff and posted early cause I goofed the date.

I know you love Joel and Ellie as much as I do, and I've wanted to do something for you for a while. Hope you enjoy. <3

xxx

March 2026

Jackson, Wyoming

He saw it happen. He'd been passing by the training round pen near Jackson's horse stable, headed back to his house after a long day on patrol when he realized Ellie was inside it, on the back of a young bay horse, unsupervised.

He recognized the animal as Shimmer, the filly who'd been practically a newborn foal when they had arrived in Jackson the very first time. The foal Ellie had latched onto and decided was hers upon their return the following spring. Now the filly was two, old enough and tall enough to start being ridden, but Joel knew for a fact that she hadn't been started yet.

"Ellie!" he shouted, and her head snapped in his direction, her jaw dropping slightly as soon as her eyes fell on him.

"Fuck, I thought you weren't going to be back until nightfall," she admitted, looking far less guilty than Joel thought she should feel.

"Get off the horse, Ellie," he demanded as he approached the fence. "Meg hasn't even started training her yet. You tryin' to get yourself killed?"

He could almost see her mentally digging her heels in. "I should be the one training her. She trusts me most. Tommy assigned her to me."

"Yeah, and what do you know about training horses?" Joel asked. She went to speak but he interrupted her, knowingly, "That you didn't read out of a book."

She shut her mouth and glared at him. "I'm not a little kid anymore. I can do this, Joel. Let me do this."

Joel wanted to protest more, but what would be the point? Short of pulling her off Shimmer, he really couldn't do anything to stop her, and if he did do that he'd just sour their relationship, a relationship that had previously gone through a rough patch due to a decision he'd made for her a couple years back.

"Alright," he said hesitantly, despite his gut telling him he shouldn't have given in. "But I'm staying."

"Fine," Ellie said, her expression relaxing. She adjusted herself in the horse's saddle and turned her focus back to her. "Now, where were we Shimmer? Yeah, we were just about to walk, right?"

She carefully pressed her heels against the filly's hide, and Shimmer snorted and pawed at the ground anxiously, confused by the pressure and not liking it. It took a few tries, but eventually the filly stepped away from the sensation and Ellie immediately took her heels off of her.

"Good job!" she cooed proudly, bending to pat Shimmer's neck. "Knew you could do it."

Joel barely had time to smile at the sight before him when snow suddenly slid off the stable roof in bulk, and several of the horses in the surrounding paddocks shied away from the commotion.

Shimmer also bolted away from the quick movement and noise. She went one way and Ellie, who'd been caught off guard, flew the other, landing hard on the frozen ground, her left arm pinned underneath her.

Panic surged in Joel's chest. "Ellie!"

He jumped the fence and raced to her side to cup her face, meeting her eyes with his concerned ones. "Are you okay? Did you hit your head?"

She grimaced as she pushed herself up into a sit, and shook her head. "I'm fine, Joel."

"Your face says otherwise."

"My arm's just a bit sore." She rubbed at her shoulder and hissed.

"Let me see," Joel insisted, and she gingerly slipped her left arm out of her winter jacket and tugged on the neckline of her long sleeved shirt so that the top of her shoulder was revealed.

There was a redness there, inflammation already setting in.

"How bad does it hurt?" he inquired.

"Not that bad," she assured him. "Hurt a lot worst when I tumbled off Callus."

Callus had been the horse they'd taken on their journey to the university. He'd been killed by a cult they had met along the way. The mere mention of the horse had Joel swallowing hard. Those had been agonizing days. He could still clearly remember the throbbing of his infected stab wound and the terror he'd felt searching for Ellie, not knowing what shape he'd find her in.

"You're probably going to have a nasty bruise there," Joel guessed. "But it could've been a lot worst."

"I know," Ellie moaned. "You're not going to let me back on her again, are you?"

"Not until Meg says she's ready," Joel said firmly.

She released a defeated sigh. "Fine."

Joel helped her to her feet and walked over to where Shimmer was now standing and collected her reins. "Stay here. I'm gonna untack her and we're going to put ice on that. Should help keep the swelling down."

Ellie nodded and watched him as he got to work, throwing Shimmer's saddle on the fence and setting her free from her bridle once she was in a paddock with several other mares.

She quietly followed Joel home, kicking rocks as she went, left arm hugged protectively against her chest, and plopped down in a chair at the kitchen table as soon as they slipped inside the house.

As she got comfortable Joel headed for the freezer with a baggie in hand, and filled it up with cubed ice from a tray before insulating it with a clean, thin dish cloth.

He carried it over to Ellie and handed it to her, gesturing for her to press it against her shoulder. When she did, he sat down next to her.

She chewed on her lip as they sat in silence, reminding Joel of when they first met, when she didn't look like the young woman she would soon be. Time had flown too fast in Jackson.

"I'm sorry," she said eventually. "It was a stupid idea. But I...I'm still struggling, with everything. I'm still figuring out how to be useful."

Joel wanted to tell her she didn't need to be, but he couldn't. After all, he had spent most of his life doing everything possible to be exactly that. To provide for and protect his loved ones. Usefulness, purpose, it was a need people had hardly talked about before the outbreak, but most had strived for it in one way or another, often times through parenthood.

"It wasn't stupid," he told her. "Even expert riders fall off sometimes. And you were makin' progress. Just, please, talk to Meg. Get her to give you some more riding lessons before you help her with Shimmer. Then maybe someday you can be the local horse trainer."

"You think?" Ellie questioned, looking hopeful.

"If you want," Joel replied. "You've got a lot of options."

She nodded. "Okay, I'll do that."

"Great," Joel said, pushing back his seat so he could stand again. "You wanna take this in the living room? I borrowed Jurassic Park from the DVD section at the library again."

Ellie lit up. Jurassic Park was one of her favorite films, only secondary to a few science fiction movies about astronauts exploring space.

"Hell yeah!" she hooted.

Joel smiled.

She was clearly feeling better already.

xxx

Others Tagged: @harriedandharassed

xxx

Main Masterlist

xxx

[whiskeybeforesunset]

Ghost Part 3 | Joel Miller

Pairing: Joel Miller x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Synopsis: Reader, Joel, and Ellie make up in the stables and continue their journey to Colorado. Reader has conflicting feelings about Joel rejoining the group, and is left to wonder where they stand with Joel. Slow burn, as always. 

Warnings: Gunshots/gun shooting at a target, no violence towards people or animals, Self doubt.

Author’s Note: I've now created a taglist! If you would like to be added please let me know. Hope you enjoy!

Previous Chapter , Next Chapter

___

You open your eyes to a sun-lit ceiling. Despite presumably not moving throughout the night, it was a restless sleep. As your feet meet the cold wooden floor boards, you’re forced to face your new reality. There’s no doubt in your mind Joel is already gone, probably left before sunrise. Still, you can’t stop yourself from checking his empty room, just in case. With no hint of the man’s presence, you somberly make your way downstairs to Ellie. 

You knock on the door frame altering her to your presence. When she looks up you notice the disappointment that flashes over her face before it hardens. 

“Ready?” You ask Ellie as swings her bag onto her shoulder. 

“Yep.” She answers shortly, before trudging past you and out the room. 

The brisk morning air greets you as you make your way towards Tommy and Maria’s. 

“You good?” You ask, turning to look at the girl. 

“Oh, I’m fine.” Ellie replies with an appropriate level of teenage angst. “How about you?” She says, cocking her head as she turns to you with a tight lipped smile. 

“Also fine.” You say while adjusting a strap on your bag.

“Liar.” Ellie remarks as you see Tommy waiting outside his home.

“Mornin’.” He says, meeting your eyes with an apologetic look. You give him a short nod, and Ellie doesn’t seem to respond at all. Tommy wordlessly begins to lead you.

The ambience of boots crunching on fresh snow quickly fades into the shuffling of hay and animal noises. Tommy walks towards the first pen in the stable before freezing in front of it. You’re uncertain as to why until you too pass the wall obstructing your view.

It’s Joel. The man you were certain you would never see again. Why is he here? Did he change his mind? Is he coming with you? Was what you said last night what convinced him, and if so what does that mean? His eyes linger on yours before shifting down to Ellie. You’re left speechless, but she seems to have plenty of her own to say.

“You came here to say goodbye or something?” Ellie asks while rolling her eyes.

“No,” Joel replies. “I came here to steal one of these horses and go.” You feel your heart sink at his words. Of course he hadn’t changed his mind. Right, yes. Why would he? You shouldn’t have gotten your hopes up. You clench your jaw, but otherwise conceal your emotion. 

“Well, I would’ve gave you one.” Tommy says, also confused by his brother’s presence.

“I know,” Joel says, patting the horse in front of him. “Anyways, that was 30 minutes ago and I guess…” Joel pauses, taking a step away from the horse.

“You deserve a choice,” he says to Ellie. “I still think you’d be better off with-”

“Let’s go.” Ellie cuts him off, shoving her bag into his arms. 

“Okay.” Joel replies bewildered. He now looks at you. You open your mouth to say something but find the words don’t come. 

“Well in that case, you can take Clover as well, she’s the next stall down.” You nod and head over, thankful for the out he has given you. You tune out the conversation between Joel and Tommy as you gather the tack for Clover, who had not yet been dressed for riding.

Joel calls your name, motioning for you to come outside. It’s time to head out. You help Ellie onto her horse as Joel and Tommy say their goodbyes. You smile, noticing her mood has greatly improved, before returning to your own horse. 

“There’s a place for you here… for all of you.” Tommy says. 

“Countin’ on it.” Joel says, glancing towards you and Ellie before doing so. There’s some more discussion between the two brothers, but with that you leave Jackson.

…

It was hard to not feel like a cowboy in the Old West as the three of you made your way to Colorado. Ellie warmed up to Joel quickly, but you still felt stuck. You were thankful for the thin paths preventing you from riding alongside Joel and Ellie as they gave you an excuse to remain silent for the beginning of the journey. You decide to take this time to sort through your thoughts. You certainly had a lot of them after all that’s occurred the last few days. 

You’re happy he’s still traveling with you, well with Ellie. And that’s the problem, isn’t it? It’s great he’s still here, that’s what you wanted. You just wish that his decision to stay had at least in part been based on you. However his motivations seem to have been made clear. 

You can’t be mad about it. Of course Ellie is his priority, she should be, yours too. It isn’t his fault if he doesn’t feel the same… commitment towards you that you do to him. Wherever those feelings may stem from. 

As the three of you trot along, you wonder if the man intended on confronting you about what you had said the night prior. At the very least you want to discern whether or not him staying was his way of saying he doesn’t want to deal with what he’s going through alone, his last comment towards Tommy seemed to imply that. But any conversation involving that would likely lead to a discussion about you proclaiming your… desire for him to stay, and frankly you’d rather avoid that. 

You’re drawn from your thoughts by your two companions bickering. The nice kind though, not like what you heard the night before.

“All I’m saying is, if something were to happen to you and-” Ellie starts.

“Nothing’s gonna to happen to us.” Joel quickly shuts her down.

“But if something were to, then it would be good for me to know how to shoot a gun.” You laugh at Ellie’s proposal, glad to hear her campaign to be allowed to shoot continues. 

“Ellie, we’ve talked about this.” Joel replies in a tired tone.

“Awe, come on Joel.” You say, surprising the two as it’s the first time you’ve spoken since the start of your journey. “Let the kid shoot, don’t you support her passion for her second amendment rights?” You finish with a smile, taking a chance to poke at Joel’s political beliefs. 

“Traitor.” Joel grumbles as you and Ellie laugh. Regardless of his initial dismissal of the idea, Joel eventually agrees to train Ellie to shoot the rifle in the next suitable clearing. 

…

You scrunch up your face as Ellie once again misses the target. You observe the pair from a few feet back. A fallen tree forms a makeshift shelf for the rifle to perch on, it being the only solid structure in the field of dead grass and patches of snow. 

“Wide right, you’re flinchin’.” He says in response to her frustrated sigh.

“The target’s too small.” Ellie retorts. 

“I made it bigger than I should’ve. Eject the cartridge.” Joel instructs from over her shoulder. 

“And I’m not flinching. The rifle just sucks.” She says stubbornly as she follows his instructions. 

“Okay give it.” Joel says, motioning for her to give him the gun. 

“Doesn’t aim right,” He gives her a hum in response. “You’ll see!” She says pulling out her binoculars.

“Don’t watch the target, watch him.” You interject. She pouts a bit, but sets them down. Joel gives you a nod of acknowledgement before continuing. Lowering his eye to the scope, his face steals in focus. 

“Deep breath in slow breath out…” He says, broad shoulders rising and sinking. 

“You squeeze the trigger like you love it.” The breeze blows through his hair, god he’s gorgeous. You feel your heartbeat quicken. He looks like a model out of some hunting magazine. A totally platonic thought, you chide yourself as Ellie gives him a sarcastic hum in response.

“Gentle… steady… nice and slow.” He says in that oh-so-alluring southern drawl. You find yourself adjusting your collar despite the chilly weather. 

“You gonna shoot this thing or get it pregnant?” Ellie says in a playfully tone. You laugh loudly, perhaps a bit too loud as Joel glares at the two of you. 

“It isn’t going to work,” Ellie says as he puts his head back down. “It doesn’t aim right.”

A gunshot nearly cuts her off and she stands there stunted, scrambling for the binoculars.

“You dick.” Ellie remarks with a grin on her face as she looks at what can only be described as a perfect shot. Joel smiles smugly and gives her a shrug. 

You do your best to calm your breathing and reduce the flush on your face as the other two pack up, target practice being decidedly over. You can’t help but wonder what had changed to draw this sort of reaction out of you. It’s not as though you’ve never seen Joel shoot and shoot very well before. You’ve known him for years, why is this happening now? 

As you ask yourself that question, you realize the answer is right in front of you as he laughs, pointing out Ellie’s missed shots. It’s because of her, he’s able to smile, to laugh, to heal. And, if you’re being honest with yourself, seeing him be such a good father figure to her isn’t unattractive. 

You smile as you pick up your bag and head back over to the horses. Regardless of whether or not these feelings you have amount to anything, you’re glad you agreed to join Joel on this job. Even if it may have… complicated things.

___

If you would like to be added to the taglist, lmk!

Taglist:

@sarahhxx03

[tsarisfanfiction]

Hide and Seek

Fandom: Trials of Apollo Rating: Teen Genre: Family Characters: Michael, Apollo, Piper, Meg, Jason Michael wasn't expecting to stumble across his mortal father in his latest escape attempt. Now if only his dad would do the sensible thing and get off the floating villa Michael's been trying to escape for the past two years. TOApril day 24 - Unexpected Allies. This is a spin-off AU from mine and @stereden's fic A Single Drachma, where instead of his escape from Caligula meaning he missed the TBM drama of canon... well. This happened. I may or may not tackle this AU properly later on, but for now here's a pilot of what could be. There are characters I've not written much if at all before in here, so please bear with any oocness that may have occurred as I start to get to grips with them.

Michael didn’t know what he’d expected, but it wasn’t this.

More fucking big eared furry menaces hounding him with the bows that he just wished he could get his hands on?  He’d rather not because they meant trouble, but they were a possibility.

Brainwashed humans and stupid cyclopes working together to pin him down and drag him back to his dressed-up fucking prison?  Second most likely, and preferred out of the two – even without a weapon he had a chance of wriggling past them.

The horse?  Fuck off, but also a known quantity.  Same for the deluded creepy freak that called himself an emperor-god and kept telling Michael he was going to replace Apollo.  If he never saw either of them again it would be too fucking soon, but so far his luck hadn’t been that good.

It hadn’t been good at all.  If it was, he wouldn’t have been stuck on these fucking boats for the past two years.  Michael was very, very sick of water everywhere he looked.  There was land around them at the moment, some bay or other, although he had no idea which one.  He didn’t care, either, as long as he could finally get away, and there had been enough noise going on that something was happening, and he had another chance to slip away – if he could get onto one of those landing boats unnoticed.

Then the lightning had struck the boat he was on, blowing apart enough of it that the freaky sound-proofing that Michael hated so much cracked open and the noise of fighting was right there.

Lightning.  Striking a boat.

Michael had been a demigod long enough to know that lightning didn’t just strike for no reason.

He shrunk back into the shadows as more of the freak’s goons – one of them a cyclops – ran towards the broken cabin and yanked open the door with enough force that it almost came off its hinges.  The freak was not going to be happy about the destruction of one of his precious boats, and Michael almost wished he could see his reaction.

Almost.

He still wanted to get the fuck away more.

Then the freak’s goons dropped dead, and Michael saw opportunity.  He hated to admit it, but with two years’ worth of failed escape attempts, it was pretty damning evidence that he wasn’t going to get away without some help.  It was either going to save or damn him, but he needed to know if there were more anti-freaks on the ship – if there were, he was joining their fucking party no matter what they said.

Michael stayed low as he nudged the door open, pushing it without actually standing in the doorway, because he’d seen how fast those idiots had dropped and wasn’t going to get himself killed by being like them.

Gold weapons flashed out at the empty space, lower than he’d anticipated – a shorter warrior than he’d accounted for – and proved his paranoia right.

“I’m not with those bastards,” he said, keeping his voice low – because sound travelled on the water and the freak might be several boats over but that didn’t make him necessarily out of earshot – but clear.  He was well aware his outfit didn’t help matters, with the stupid white-and-blue sailor crap the freak loved so much, but that wasn’t his fucking choice, either.  Still, he poked his head cautiously around the doorframe, keeping a hand raised where whoever was in there could see it.

It was a bad fucking idea, he knew it was, but two years was enough to make him more than a little bit fucking desperate, okay?

There were four of them in there – closest to the door, with those dangerous-looking twin golden blades, was a black haired girl about his height, and probably a similar age to Kayla (if Kayla hadn’t fallen, and no, Michael wasn’t going to think about seeing his youngest sister fall from the fucking bridge right now).  The other teenagers were all a couple of years younger than him, maybe Will’s age or a bit older, but they had the clear air of demigods, and Michael hadn’t seen any of those in two years.

Demigods on a quest, even if there was too many of them, technically.  If the kid was part of it.

She certainly gripped her weapons like she knew how to use them.

“Michael?”

It was his name, soft and broken and unexpected, and it came from the curly haired brown boy clutching an arrow in his hands.

“You know this guy?” the older girl asked, and the other boy – this one blond – peered at him from behind his glasses in a way that looked distinctly Athena-kid-like, except for the bright blue eyes.

“I- yes,” Curly said, sounding like he’d seen a fucking ghost, and Michael scowled at him.  He didn’t recognise him at all – he hadn’t been a camper two years ago, none of them had been, Michael didn’t recognise any of them.  Not the unruly brown curls, not the nasty case of acne, not his voice or even the bow that he used.

Then he made eye contact.

He’d heard the saying ‘eyes are the window to the soul’ many times, but he’d always dismissed it at romanticised bullshit.  Eyes were eyes and they came in many colours and shapes and emotions, but the idea of them being more had never settled well with him.

Curly’s eyes were an unfamiliar blue, but there was something in them that was familiar, that made Michael unwillingly think of camp, of his siblings, of dreams and sun-warmth.  Of all the things he’d missed for the past two years, wrapped up into one condensed thing.

“Dad?” he asked, and it was stupid, Apollo wouldn’t be fucking here, except-

Except it was, wasn’t it?

Fuck.

“Michael!”  The arrow dropped to the ground, and Curly – Apollo, really, what the actual fuck, what had taken him so fucking long and Michael wasn’t stupid, Apollo hadn’t expected to see him – grabbed him in a desperate embrace.

“How many do you have?” the younger girl asked, but she wasn’t threatening Michael with her swords so he was going to take that.  She went unanswered as Apollo started crying into Michael’s shoulder, blubbing things about you’re alive that Michael immediately decided to shut up in a box and not acknowledge until after he was off the fucking floating villa once and for all.

With his dad there, it seemed a lot more possible, even if there was something really weird about him.

“What the fuck is going on?” Michael demanded, intentionally cutting off Apollo’s words.

“That’s what I want to know,” the older girl said, and Michael could see the way her eyes were inspecting his clothes with suspicion.  “So tell me why you’re here.”

Her voice gained a sort of double-layer, subtle enough that Michael knew most people couldn’t hear it, let alone ignore it, but he wasn’t most people.  Drew had bitched about it often enough.

“You’re an Aphrodite kid,” he deducted, pointedly not answering the Charmspeak-layered question.  That would tell her what she needed to know, would stop her wasting her power-

Except she was looking at him with even more open suspicion now, and so was the so far silent blond boy behind her.  Seriously?

“Answer my question,” she said, and the Charmspeak was less subtle and more like a hammer against his ears.

Idiot.  How had Drew or Silena let her out on a quest like that?

He shut down the unwelcome thought that maybe they hadn’t been there to teach her.

“When you stop trying to fucking Charmspeak me,” he growled.  “Apollo, why the fuck are you like this?”  He gestured as best he could whilst trapped by his dad’s arms at the whole not-pretty teenager thing.  He’d never seen Apollo look so not-perfect in his life.

“He’s mortal,” the younger girl – and really, Michael could do with some fucking names, he was going to call her Sword Girl until he got a better one – shrugged, although there was nothing carefree about the action.

That… that was another can of fucking worms that Michael did not want to deal with right then.  His immortal god of a father suddenly mortal.  Great.

Wait.  Fuck.  Was this what the freak meant when he said he was going to replace Apollo?  Fuck, no, Michael was not letting that happen.

“You need to get the fuck off this boat,” he snapped.  “Now.  Why the fuck are you even here, anyway?”

“To steal Caligula’s shoes,” Sword Girl said bluntly.  She was rapidly becoming Michael’s favourite for actually answering his questions with recognisable answers.  Even if they were stupid ones.

“Why?” he despaired.  “What is worth risking your whole damn fucking existence for a pair of fucking shoes?  Or a boat of them?”

“How do you know about that?” Charmspeak Girl demanded (he would have called her Charmspeak Bitch, except Drew was a difficult one to topple from her bitch queen throne), her voice still laced with the fucking useless power.

He fixed her with a glare.  “Stop with the fucking Charmspeak.  It doesn’t fucking work on me, and even if it did it’s not a fucking interrogation power.”

“What do you mean?” formerly Silent-Blond asked, finally inserting himself into the conversation.  Charmspeak Girl looked just as confused, if also frustrated, and Michael realised she really didn’t have a fucking clue.

She was working with his dad, and Michael wasn’t one for dead demigods, either.  Fuck, he was not qualified to teach Aphrodite kids about their own powers, dammit.  Still, he had to say something.

“Charmspeak is based on attraction,” he told her, elbowing his dad in the process because forget Drew and Silena, why hadn’t Apollo thought to explain this shit to her?  “You persuade people that are fucking attracted to you that they want to do whatever the fuck you want.  Works for direct orders.  Doesn’t work for getting the truth out of people when they’re busy saying whatever the fuck they think you want to hear.  Stop relying on the fucking thing, it’s unreliable at best.”

Charmspeak Girl looked like he’d just told her the sky was fucking green.  Duty done, Michael ignored her and turned back to his dad.

“You need to get the fuck off this villa,” he repeated.  “Which of these idiots is your master?” because Michael had been a camper for seven fucking years, he knew the stories.  Every damn time his dad got turned mortal, he got given a demigod master.  Silent-Blond and Charmspeak Girl stared at him like he’d said something unreasonable, while Sword Girl puffed her chest out.

��Me, duh.”

Huh.  Well, at least it wasn’t Charmspeak Girl.

“Get him the fuck away from this villa,” he told her.  “This isn’t fucking worth-”

“There’s a prophecy,” Apollo said, finally talking again.  “We need those shoes, to beat him.”

Well, fuck.

Michael would love to see the freak defeated.  Right now, more than most other fucking things, but he wasn’t letting Apollo get destroyed in the process, which was what was going to happen if his idiot of a currently-mortal dad kept trying to scout across the boats until he stumbled across the right one, and then the right pair of shoes.

No fucking way.

Fuck.

“What fucking shoes?” he demanded, finally pushing Apollo off of him.  Mortal or not, Apollo was still the god of prophecy.  If he was saying shit like that, then Michael couldn’t just tell him to fuck off and ignore it.

“Caligula’s namesake,” Silent Blond finally spoke, still assessing him with those too-sharp, too-bright blue eyes.  Michael still couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t quite an Athena kid, but didn’t have a clue what other options were on the table.  “His childhood shoes.”

Michael sighed and nodded.  “Get the fuck off of this thing,” he told them.  “You don’t stand a fucking chance.”

They bristled, all four of them, and Michael got it, at least from the three demigods.  Of fucking course they didn’t trust him.  Apollo’s reaction hurt a little more, but Michael forced himself to ignore it.  The arrow at his foot caught his attention and he bent down, picking it up and shoving the shaft against his dad’s chest, not entirely certain why except it was an arrow and Michael had always been an archer.

Apollo’s eyes got so wide it would have been funny if Michael wasn’t currently trying to save his dad’s fucking existence.

“Go,” he snarled.  “If you want to be fucking helpful, get one of those fucking landing boats over to ship forty three.”

“And what are you going to do?”  She’d finally dropped the Charmspeak, but her voice was still sharp without it.

Michael scoffed.  “I’m going to go get your fucking shoes.  Now fuck off.”

He didn’t wait for them to respond, ducking back out of the ruined cabin and slipping back into the shadows.

Time to put the last two years of playing hide and seek with the freak’s fucking goons to good use.

----

Okay I don't usually put A/Ns at the end of fics on tumblr, but at this point I want to clarify the Charmspeak thing, because Charmspeak is a power that can very easily go squick so I've spent some time trying to make it not so awful - specifically the implication that every middle-aged adult that Piper charmspeaks is Attracted to a sixteen year old girl. So, the premise I've worked on is that Charmspeak works on by drawing on either attraction (as in somebody already actively attracted either romantically or physically to the Charmspeaker), or for more powerful Charmspeakers like Piper, the potential for attraction (e.g. if a man is straight or bi/attracted to women, then even though he's an upstanding individual who would never dream of being attracted to a teenage girl, because the only thing that skews her out of his demographic is her age, the Charmspeak is still enough to bring them under control despite the lack of active attraction). This also extends to the additional worldbuilding whereby people with no potential for attraction - don't swing that way, or in the case of Michael in all my fics, are both very much aroace and also have no inclination to seek that sort of company anyway - can't be Charmspoken, even by someone as powerful as Piper.

[therottenkingsreckoning]

We're back with another one! Went through several agonizing rewrites here, stressing probably more than necessary that things all flow well and feels hit like they're supposed to. But finally, the whole extra long beast of a chapter is finished.

I'll put some stuff down below this like I did earlier- except this time, it's a link to the B Dylan Hollis recipe video I had in mind when Frank is talking about cake (a recipe I'd still love to try out myself) and the drawings of Apple the houpa I made ages ago.

Anyway, enough rambling. Fanfic ahoy!

Little Flame, chapter 7

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

It was one thing for Eddie to be nervous. After all, his mate and child were on the line if anything happened. But it was another thing entirely when the other neighbors starting treating Frank the same way.

"Oop, watch your head there!" Howdy called out, passing by them with armfuls of boxes. Frank had been helping out around the bodega lately, a way of repaying the stolen test which had over time morphed into a biweekly half-job. It was also a chance for the two to hang out, since they otherwise wouldn't have done.

"I'm just saying, you should give it a chance," Frank said, continuing where he'd left off in both sweeping and conversation. "Beans add a nice richness you don't get from the regular stuff."

"But in a cake? Really? Apple, move outta the way." Howdy nudged the houpa with his foot, earning little more than a mrrp? in response. "If ya ask me, it sounds like the cravings might be getting to your head right now."

Frank huffed. "This was before I'd gotten pregnant, so I highly doubt that would've had an affect on my taste."

"Heh, if ya say so," Howdy replied, beginning to unpack the first box of the stack he'd set down beside him.

Frank would've responded further, they already knew what to say. Unfortunately though, the now awake cat-horse that was Howdy's pet had deemed his broom a suitable plaything, clamping the bristles between his hooves & teeth with considerable force.

"Nggh ...God, it's no use trying to get anything done around this animal!" he scoffed, ceding the tool to its new rightful owner. "Why do you even still keep him here?"

"Hey now, you heard what Ember said, he can't be released into the wild. And I've caught you snuggling this big dork several times, so don't try to claim you don't like him too." A lower hand grabbed the scientist's arm as they were reaching for a box, the taller shaking his head firmly. "Uh uh, no heavy lifting for you Mr. Mom."

Frank let out a noise of frustration as he realized what Howdy was saying. "Oh come on, not you too! It's like I suddenly can't do anything anymore!"

"Sorry fella, I just couldn't live with myself if you got hurt. Not to mention Eddie would probably have my head for it." The caterpillar shrugged his shoulders in succession. "Matter of fact, I can probably take care of the rest here if you wanna get going. It's been great, but I'm sure you've got stuff you wanna do."

Frank took the offer, begrudgingly. Howdy was wrong, he didn't really have anything better to do with his time. But they'd certainly not be made to sit uselessly inside the shop! No, he'd go see what Julie was up to.

Outside was nice, the weather warm and a little windy. the sounds of birds and bugs made gentle music on Frank's ears, and he felt their spirits lifted as he walked along the path. No sense in letting it get to me now, they thought. He's wrong, but I'll let him be wrong. I've got a day to enjoy.

They passed by Barbie's house, the dog herself just stepping out when she noticed him and raised a paw in friendly greeting. "Hey there Frank, you heading to Julie's house?"

"Indeed I am," Frank answered simply.

"I'll go with ya then!" she said cheerfully, not waiting for an answer as she strode up beside the grey. "Got a book I was gonna return to her anyway."

Frank let out a heavy, dramatic sigh and kept walking. "Alright, but if you get too annoying I'll go somewhere else."

In truth it was mostly just for show, and he suspected she knew that too. They'd gotten along well in recent months, her frequent visits to Julie's house meaning the two had had plenty of time to get to know each other better. And Frank was grateful for a distraction in any case, as she rambled cheerfully about everything and nothing.

"...he's got paints set aside for that, mixed the batches up himself" she chuckled, wiggling her fingers for emphasis. "Doesn't want me dippin' my big ol' mitts into the good stuff."

Frank nodded. "Suppose that does make sense. There's much less oil paint, and it really isn't meant f-"

"SHH!"

Words and walking stopped short as one of those same big hands swept out to catch him. "There's something up ahead," the dog growled, all cheerfulness gone as her ears perked and eyes narrowed to scan the treeline. Frank looked around himself, feeling a growing fear creep into the pit of their stomach until-

A squirrel darted from between the lower branches of a tree, running swiftly past them to the other side of the road. "Phew, thought it was somethin' big," Barbie said, releasing the iron grip she'd had on the smaller's shoulders.

Frank wriggled out of her grasp and frowned. "You're really getting this worked up over squirrels?" He scoffed, arms folded.

Sheepishly, she shrugged. "Can't really help it, sorry. I guess it's some kinda instinct that tells me I need to keep ya safe. Especially right now, with uhh...things bein' the way that they are."

"You mean my pregnancy."

"...yeah."

Frank grumbled, pinching the bridge of their nose. "I don't need you protecting me Barbara, I can handle all this on my own."

Barbie opened her mouth to protest further, but a glare from the other shut her down quickly. "Yeah, fine I won't bug ya about it," she sighed. Then grinning, added, "Don't suppose you mind bugs though."

Frank groaned out loud. My God, this was the worst one yet! Barbie gladly took the victory as a sign to press further, the two subconciously falling into familiar rhythms of grump and jokester until they were suddenly right outside a familiar pink dwelling.

Unsurprisingly, Julie was the middle of planning a game when they arrived, marking hopscotch squares out with chalk. "Frank!! and Barbie too!" She squealed excitedly upon seeing her friends, jumping to her feet and giving both of them a warm hug. Still on the ground, Sally laughed softly and waved a hello. "Already done with your work at the bodega dear?"

"Yes, well, he allowed me to leave early," Frank said with a roll of his eyes, sitting down beside her on the dirt. "We had a bit of a disagreement over my current capabilities."

"Oh, I'm sure he's simply worried for you darling," Sally reassured, "We all are."

Frank sighed. The condescension was beginning to get annoying, but he didn't want to ruin things with an argument when they'd just arrived. For your friends, for Julie, he thought, mentally gritting his teeth as he silently picked up another of the hula hoops the star was inexplicably wrapping in colorful tape.

Next to them, Julie was explaining the rules of her new game. "So if it lands on heads, you gotta run around the neighborhood before they catch you."

"Ough, might wanna lay off the runnin' right now," said Barbie. " 'S at least two of us who can't do much of that."

Frank turned to look at her. It was quite clear she was referring to themselves, yet he rationalized- not an unfair proclamation. It's true, I can't really run too far now without getting winded. No need to get worked up...

Julie seemed to consider it, a worrying look of worry starting to creep over the monster's features. "Oh that is true, we gotta be careful with Frank right now! Don't wanna hurt the baby."

Frank's heart sank. Oh no. Not her. They could handle the others, could pretend their opinions didn't matter to him. But Julie... "You don't need to..." he started.

"Better take out the ball-throwing too in that case!" Sally interrupted. "Maybe even these hula hoops, they could hit someone's stomach pretty hard if you spin them fast."

"That's..."

"Perfect thinking!" Julie proclaimed, already pulling her her notes to make amendments. "No running, no throwing..."

"Julie please," Frank begged, increasingly upset.

It fell on deaf ears. The three were talking as though he wasn't even there, oblivious to the building whine of stress & overstimulated rage happening inches away.

"Take out-"

"Better change-"

"Really for the best that we-"

"STOP IT!!!" Frank screamed, jumping up to his feet and throwing the hoop somewhere off into the distance. Their breath was ragged, his eyes burned so badly with tears that they didn't dare open them. "Why don't you trust me to do anything right now???? Why are you treating me this way?!?"

Dead silence filled the air, even the sounds of nature seemingly stunned by his outburst. All that was there was the rustling wind and his heavy breathing, through gritted teeth and shaking hands. Julie gently touched their arm, but he smacked it away, not wanting touch or care right now. "And you especially Julie! I thought you of all people would understand."

"Frank I'm-"

"Shut up," he huffed, already marching away. "Just shut up."

Frank felt so sick, and tired, and angry. Why was everyone like this right now? Just because he was pregnant, he was suddenly unable to throw a ball, or lift a box, or do anything he could've done five months ago? "It's like all they care about is you," he snarled, poking at their belly, "I'm just a vessel."

A sudden splash, and wetness seeped into his sock. As though this awful, awful day couldn't get any worse, he'd stepped into a puddle. But maybe it was the anger twisting their mind around- it felt good now. A puddle's full of awful germs they wouldn't want me touching. Shame if I...

SPLASH! his other foot stomped down hard into the mud, sending water flying up onto his trousers. SPLASH SPLASH! they danced and kicked around in it, somehow reveling right now in how awful it felt, how forbidden.

"I'm doing things! I might hurt myself!" He sang out loud to no one, grabbing a nearby tree branch and pulling. "Won't somebody stop me?!" It snapped, and he tumbled back into the dirt, giggling manically as they stood up and swung it back into the trunk like a sword. Then again, and again as the rage turned to violence and then into tears. Frank sank into the dirt, breathing hard as he sobbed.

"Are you ok?"

Frank opened his eyes to a familiar blue swirl above them, its owner giving them a look of confusion. "Go away," the taller sniffled angrily. Last thing he needed was people caring.

"Ok," Wally answered simply with a shrug, already turning around to start walking away. In that moment, with just how completely messed up this whole day had been, it was this simple lack of concern that struck Frank's heart all of a sudden. "Come back," he sniffled, sitting up. And Wally did.

"You're not worried about me?"

Wally raised a non-existent eyebrow. "Well yeah, if you're crying in the dirt and hitting things I'll be concerned."

"But you don't think I'm...less capable? Just because of my being pregnant?"

Things seemed to click for the demon then, sitting down next to Frank. "Who told you that? No- I mean I've never been pregnant, but as far as I know that doesn't mean you can't do things."

"Exactly! But everyone acts like I suddenly can't, or I shouldn't in case...something happens, I guess. I don't know." Frank gripped on to the broken branch, picking away at its bark as they spoke. "First Eddie being too scared of letting me climb, then at Howdy's when he wouldn't let me lift the boxes, those I could sort of understand. But then Barbie, then Sally and even Julie..." he trailed off.

Wally seemed to think. "You want me to tell them to knock it off?" he offered. "If they won't listen to you, maybe they'll listen to me instead."

"Tch," Frank hissed. "That's the whole problem though. They won't listen to me! It's...it's like I don't even matter, my feelings don't matter, and all that's important is-"

"Frank..."

Frank and Wally both looked over to see their friends standing in the road. Julie, Sally, Barbie, and Eddie still breathing slightly hard from running towards the sound of his partner's yelling.

"Hello friends," Wally spoke, his usually cheerful greeting tinged right now with the slightest anger. "Frank was telling me about how you haven't been treating them very well."

"I'm sorry," Julie sobbed, quite visibly shocked & heartbroken. "I had no idea it would upset you that much."

"You would've if you'd listened!" Frank retorted. "I was trying to tell you, and you kept talking over me."

"We...we were only trying to help..." Sally piped up nervously, then winced at the glare shot her way. "Right, you're right though. It is... your baby, we shouldn't overstep your bounds like that."

Eddie slowly approached Frank, gently helping them back to his feet. "I guess...we're all just real excited for that right now," he said. "We wanna make sure that things go right."

"That doesn't mean-" Wally started, but Frank cut him off with a gentle wave. "It's ok, I can handle it." And now that things were fully out in the open, now that his blood had settled down from its boiling point, he could.

They sighed. "I know you mean well, but... it hurts. I'm still me! I can still do things! I promise I'm not as fragile as you think, even right now. I just...I need you all to trust me, and if something truly feels like it's a risk, I'll let you know, ok?"

Julie hugged him gently, checking first he was comfortable with touch right now. "I'm a terrible friend," she said. "I'm sorry."

"You're not, I promise." Frank squeezed her tight. All anger gone, he felt so tired in her arms, and glad to have those arms back to hold. "We're all new to this thing, and you're trying your best. Just...don't do it again, ok?"

They all nodded, still shuffling awkwardly. "Hey," the grey offered with a weak smile. "How about this? You let me pick all the rules for the next game."

"Ok!"

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

[thevoiceofthebard]

Chapter 10 - Uthgerd II: Bleak Falls Barrow

Tirdas, 19th of Last Seed 4E201 Early Morning

Uthgerd

I've never understood why some people play jokes on others. Once, when I was seven, some kids my age gave me a stick, telling me it was a magic wand that would make my mother give me extra treats. Needless to say, it didn't work, and the boys laughed at me when I told them of the spanking my mother gave me when I ordered her to give me another sweetroll after dinner. They stopped laughing when I broke one's tooth and blacked the other's eye. So no, "pranking" has never been a past time of mine.

Why, then, did I feel such joy over the sight of Talao leaping out of his bed, drenched in water? Revenge, maybe. Well, not my problem he hadn't woken up earlier. I toss the now empty pail at him while he sputters away. "You overslept. Get into your traveling gear, get your pack, then meet me at the gates of the city in ten minutes, or I'm leaving without you."

The sound of his hurried steps follow me until I exit the inn. Then nothing. It's always bothered me just how quiet a city can be before dawn. Out in the wilderness, you're surrounded by noise. Insects buzzing, elk bleating, rivers flowing. Here, not even the most optimistic vendor has yet set up. I wrap my cloak more tightly around my armour, and set out to the gates, boots crunching against the frosty ground. Whiterun is warmer than most of Skyrim, but the province's famous chill is never far off, especially at night. I learned that the hard way a long time ago...

A patrol passes me by, and talks to the guard standing beside the gate. Shift change, most likely. I can see them throwing glances my way from inside their helmets, like they're expecting me to attack them. I ignore them, leaning against the wall. No doubt they recognize me and... What I did. I suppose getting out of town is the best I could do. Give the rumours time to die off, like the bard said, and for me to put it to rest in my own soul.

Before long, I see Talao walking swiftly toward the gates. I notice an odd hitch in his step, and a cane or staff in his hand, as if he were hobbled. Great, he's a cripple too. That's going to increase our travel time. I seriously cannot catch a break.

"You said we were to leave at dawn! It's well before then!"

Hmph. "I said dawn, not sunrise. There's light enough in the sky to see the path, and the sooner we leave, the sooner we can get to... Wait, where in Kyne's name are we headed?"

"Oh." He seems embarrassed at his oversight, as the gates close behind us. "Bleak Fall Barrow, just overlooking Riverwood. It'll take us most of the day to reach Riverwood, so we should spend the night there, or make camp near the base of the mountain."

"Fair enough." The road out of Whiterun is smooth, from the thousand of wheels, horses, and feet that use it every day. I see, out of the corner of my eye, Talao keeping pace with me, no difficulty despite his odd gait. An old injury then, one he's spent a long time with. Somehow I doubt I'll see him sprinting anytime soon, but at the least, we won't take threefold the time to get anywhere. Hopefully, he holds up as well on the mountain.

The Khajiit are up and moving as well, the fire from their camp burning brightly. I eye them with a cautious respect. I've bought supplies from their caravans many a time to make my travels easier, and it takes some guys to wander a country during a war. But I drew my cloak tighter around myself anyway, not from the chill. They aren't allowed within the city walls for a reason, after all.

"Wares for the weary traveler?" A grey-ish brown cat asks me, his eyelids half-open, but attentive. A sign he's relaxed. At least, I think that's what it means. All I really remember about Khajiit behaviors is that you should run if they "smile" at you, unless you like bite marks on your ass. "Ah, but this Breton Ri'saad remembers. It is Talao, yes?"

"Aye. Pleasure to see you, Ri'saad." He waves to the other caravanners, who return the gesture. Interesting how at ease he acts with them.

"Ri'saad is please to see Talao as well this morning."

"Is it morning?" he grumbles. "It still feels like night to me."

The cat - Ri'saad, I try to remember - hums, like a purr almost. "Ah, the Breton does not enjoy losing his rest. Khajiit finds dawn most invigorating. The slow rise of the sun, and of the sounds of the day, the smell of the dew upon the grass."

"Just smells strange to me."

We're getting off track. "We need to get moving if we want to reach Riverwood by nightfall, Talao." My pack is still rather full from my last outing, but I buy a few potions and some hardtack, just in case. Talao does the same, also grabbing a flask of wine, happily chatting about how alcohol can be just as helpful as a fire on a cold night.

Despite my best efforts, the chatty Khajiit drags Talao into another conversation. "Ri'saad has noticed that Talao is no longer wearing the robes sold by this one. Did the bard forget them in some fair maid's home?"

"Nothing quite so titillating, Ri'saad, but infinitely more interesting," Talao chuckles. "I was capture by Imperials, but then saved by a dragon!" The cats murmur in the background, as Talao spreads his arms wide. "Picture it: A misty dawn in Falkreath Hold. The sleepy town of Helgen awakened by a brigade of imprisoned Stormcloaks, preparing for sentence from their Imperials captors. Among them, a lone innocent, a victim of circumstance. He awaits, hopelessly, his inexorable fate. The chopping block taunting him with freshly spilled blood. But fate has other plans, unbeknownst to him as he is forced upon the block. A great roar resounds through the valley. The innocent looks up, past the gleaming executioner's blade, and a monstrous beast descends, clad in armor darker than blackest night, gleaming in the first rays of the morning, as if from Aetherius itself! Saving the innocent from the cold bite of death by mere seconds, and the chaos affords him the opportunity to escape."

"Hmm. Ri'saad believes this is the most outlandish story Talao has yet shared."

Silently, I agree. The man has a way with words that makes Mikael seem a brutish oaf in comparison, but the story is absurd. Although, there must be a reason the Jarl entrusted... A man like him with such an important task. Unless he's embellishing that as well.

"Outlandish, yes. But every word true."

The Khajiit strokes his chin, continuing, "This one has, however, heard rumours of the return of the winged lizards, few though these rumours may be."

"I've only seen the one," Talao responds, "but if one dragon survived supposed extinction, there could be more. And one is more than enough, if that one was anything to go by. It destroyed an entire town, holding an Imperial garrison, by itself. I'd hate for our next meeting to be with a burnt corpse, so eyes to the sky."

"A life without risk is not one worth living, friend. But then, it is best to remain alive to witness it in its entirety. Khajiit will take precautions."

"That is all I ask." Enough of this drivel. I nudge Talao sharply and begin walking off. He spits out a hasty farewell, "May your roads lead you to warm sands," and catches up.

The sky has brightened a bit, though the sun has yet to rise. I notice the head of Talao's cane, shaped like a dragon. A staff then, not a cane. "You a mage, Breton?" I ask, gesturing at the staff.

"Ah, no. A gift from Farengar. Sadly, I have very little aptitude for magickal arts."

Now that was odd. "A Breton with no magicka?"

"Aye, strange, I know." He grins ruefully. "I'm a bard. I don't think I mentioned."

"No, but after your story, I might have guessed. Still..." The question was still burning in my mind, so I decided just to ask. "Why would the Jarl choose you to go into a Barrow, famous for active Draugr sightings, if you have no combat expertise?"

"A fair question," he replies, shrugging. "I suppose I did think it odd how quickly he trusted me, but given the direness of the situation, perhaps he thought there was not enough time to find a more suitable person. Farengar did mention not wanting to spread rumours, and seeing as I was one of the survivors at Helgen... Hold up."

"What?" We've reached the bend at the White River, just at the bounds of Whiterun's farmland. Talao stops, staring up the hilly road to the south, but I see nothing. "What? Is it the hill? You can't expect me to believe..."

"We should get off the road."

"What are you...?"

"Now!" He shoves me toward a bush - or at least tries to, considering I'm twice his size - on the side of the road, before hiding himself in it. I sigh wearily, looking up the path. Still nothing. So now he's a coward as well as defenseless. Or possibly insane. I settle into the bushes, lamenting the fact that it is going to take us until the next era to reach Riverwood at this rate.

A moment passes. Then another. A few torchbugs buzz around our heads. A wolf bays in the distance. And still nothing stirs along the path.

"Talao..." He places a hand on my mouth, the other pointing. And then I see it. Or something. A hazy blue glow, still far in the distance, swiftly approaching. Mage light, perhaps? The closer it gets, the more I feel a sense of dread creep over me, and I understand why Talao had us hide. Whatever was approaching, it wasn't natural. My hand clutches the grip of my sword, ready to draw the instant anything happens.

Finally, the blue haze is defined enough to make it out, and my blood freezes. I've seen ghosts before, but this... An armor-clad specter, astride an equally spectral horse, flying across the ground faster than anything I've seen, fog trailing in its wake. And most unnerving, the ghost faced forward... But with no face to speak of, nor any head at all.

The specter is still heading directly toward us down the path, at an impossible pace. Then it slows. My breath catches, and my anxiety jumps. Some ghosts were weak to steel, but I doubted this one would be, were it to come to blows. The horse halts at the crossroads, and the headless figure shifted in its seat, as if checking its direction. My hand aches from its painfully tight grip upon my sword, but I dare not make the slightest move.

Suddenly, a piercing pain rips through my skull, and the ghost faces our hiding spot. Talao is yelling beside me, as the horse walks forward slowly, the figure pulling a large axe off its back. I try to do the same, but I'm paralyzed, held in place, unable to move or even fall from the pain. The horse whinnies loudly, as if laughing, and the ghost lifts the axe high. This can't be how it ends!

Suddenly, a blazing shaft of light bursts through the specter's body. He halts, his form slowly dissipating. At once, the presence lifts, and I fall forward, gasping for air. The sun finally peeks up from down the White River. Dawn has arrived.

A haunting laugh echoes through my head, and a phrase lingers in my mind as the ghost vanishes; "Such an abrupt end to our game." A chill runs down my spine, despite the warmth of the sun upon my face. A game? One I'd rather never play again.

Talao is a few feet away, on his hands and knees, retching. I can hardly blame him. Makes me glad that I skipped an early meal, else I'd likely be joining him. "By the blood of Orkey, what was... that?"

"I... I don't know. I've never heard of any tale like this." He stands shakily, heaving great breaths of air. "It was so... angry. Vengeful. I heard... 'All living shall fear the dead.'"

"What did we wander into?"

"A legend." Talao whispers. "One I'm not sure I want to be part of. But one I'll definitely write about. Someday."

One last stretch unravels the knots in my back, and I shoulder my pack once more. A quick glance around, but all seems quiet now. Without words, we set off down the path, the sun lifting our spirits. But I know that feeling at the base of my spine will stay with me for a while yet.

For once, I was looking forward to an uneventful trip.

For the curious, Uthgerd worships the traditional Nordic Pantheon, rather than the Eight Divines. Kyne is, obviously, the parallel of Kynareth. Orkey is generally considered the parallel to the Daedric Prince Malacath (rather than Arkay as you might think) and an enemy of the ancient Nords, hence its use as a curse.

Chapter 9 - Uthgerd I: Bleak Falls Barrow x Chapter 11 - Uthgerd III: Bleak Falls Barrow

[funky--lesbian]

Super Nova

Larissa Weems X OC

A.N. hello all. if this seems familiar to you it's because... I've already posted it. With that said I realized I am Horrendous at formatting and decided to repost with some alterations. a HUGE shoutout to the council for helping me get my shit together, especially @bri-sonat for helping fic my truly wretched formatting. the next few chapters will be posted soon as I write some new ones as well.

The wind howled as you looked out the window of the train. Trees passing by in flashes as you made your way through towns, each one smaller and more spread apart, until there was nothing but the forest and the rain dripping down the windows to keep your eyes fixed on.

You can feel the chill of the weather as you rest your gloved hand on the window, not quite knowing what to expect. Finally, you see lights as the train pulls up to a town. As you look away from the pouring rain, you realize that everyone else had departed the train many stops ago.

After all, who would want to travel to a town like Jericho.

Though you suppose it wasn't Jericho itself that they avoided but rather what was just beyond it, Nevermore, your destination. The school had quite a reputation amongst the residents, almost serving as a horror story, an urban myth.

You quickly made your way up from your seat and gathered your belongings, not that you had many to grab, as the stewardess waited by the door of the train. With a small nod in her direction, you square your shoulders and step out into the world once again.

You quickly feel the rain soaking through your many layers as you dart under the cover of an awning, dragging your trunk behind you as you huddle over your tote bag, attempting to protect the few notebooks you carry. 

You look around as the train pulls away, desperately hoping that you will be able to spot your ride to your new home. As the lights from the train disappear into the distance, you’re left shivering on the cobbled road, lit only by a few meager street lamps. As the minutes pass and the cold sinks further into your bones, you finally decide you can't wait anymore out in this weather.

You shift your bag further up on your arm as your breath fogs up before your face. The second you step out into the storm again you regret it, but within minutes your steps have led you to the one building that seemed to still be open. As the wind blows the door shut behind you, you look around and realize you're in a small coffee shop, the Weathervane, according to the sign above the counter.

You quickly leave your trunk by an empty table before heading up to the counter where a young boy is watching with wary but amused eyes. “Hi…” You murmur, your voice horse from disuse, ”could I just get a hot chocolate with oat milk?” you ask, with a slightly clearer voice.

“Of course, what's the name?” He queries with a small smile.

“Adelaide.” You respond before turning around, the bell of the door behind you ringing, the noise drawing your attention. Standing there silhouetted by the glowing lights of the street was the most striking woman you had ever seen.

“Miss Florence, there you are my dear!” She exclaimed as she walked towards the counter. Somehow despite the stormy weather, she looked absolutely perfect, not a single hair out of place regardless of the howling wind and rain that had quickly turned your long curls into a stringy mess. 

As she approached the counter, you found yourself tilting your head farther and farther back, and when she finally stopped next to you, you realized how ridiculous you must look peering up at her like a drowned rat. You quickly looked down with a blush.

“Hello Tyler, a hot chocolate please, and would you be so kind as to put Miss Florence's drink on my tab as well?” She states with a glimmering smile at the barista.

“Oh no, you really don't have to do that!” You state, looking up quickly at the woman whose name you still don't know.

“Nonsense! Consider it a welcoming gift and an apology for my tardiness. Unfortunately, our normal driver fell sick due to the weather, so I had to finish up an appointment before coming down.” She stated warmly as she handed over some cash for the drinks before heading over to the table with your trunk. “I’m Larissa Weems, Headmistress of Nevermore Academy, my dear.” She smiled at you as you glanced up at her.

In the light of the coffee shop you can't help but stare at her beauty, clear blue eyes surrounded by delicate long lashes, a bright red lip captured in a gleaming smile, she was like an angel come to life.

You let out a shiver as her eyes pierced yours. Seeing this her smile faded into a frown, creasing her forehead as she looked down at you. “My dear, you must be freezing, you're absolutely soaked!” She says as she reaches toward you.

“No!’ You shouted, quickly scooting out of the bench away from her as you trip over your trunk in panic. She lets out a gasp at your desperation as you shake on the ground, refusing to look into her eyes in shame.

“I was just going to remove your coat, dear, it’s soaked through…” She murmurs comfortingly with her hands clasped in front of her for you to see clearly. You feel your cheeks turn pink with shame as you slowly climb up from the ground, ignoring the looks from the few other patrons.

“I can't do… touch.” You state as you wring your gloved hands together, “I apologize, it would not be pleasant for either of us.” You continue, wrapping yourself further in your layers as you look down at your feet.

“That is quite alright, my dear, I apologize for disturbing you.” Her voice was gentle, a touch of worry in her tone.

“Adelaide, Headmistress, here you go.” You hear as two to-go cups are placed next to you on the table. You quickly step back from the barista, once again kicking your trunk but managing to stay upright this time as you let out a tight smile.

Clearing her throat, the headmistress quickly stands with a slightly strained smile on her face. “Let's get you to your new home!” She says with joy, grabbing her hot chocolate with one hand and your trunk in the other.

“Yes, let's…” You murmur, grabbing your own drink and following behind the statuesque woman.