#because ms paint crashed again and i wanted some comfort

[daily-snufkin]

🌿 DAY 4

I'll see you soon.

[misfiredmonologue]

sex shop dispatch #2

a short story

catty #2 (2023); drawn in MS Paint on a cash reigister desktop pc in a gay sex shop in berlin

Plane crashes. Snow on the side of the runway. I look out of the window and smile, while everyone is screaming, hurling off the inflatable slide off the side. I do not stay, I let myself be carried by the crowd, but it feels almost like I am gliding over them, like some kind of unbothered ghost. The plane is not on fire and the wind outside is really cold, yet smells of burnt rubber. We make our way to the rescue personnel among the fire trucks and I look back to see a slender, human-feline body open the side window of the cockpit and jump out unharmed. Their grey fur is ruffled by the wind like tall grass, as they push the captains hat over their catty ears. They walk off into the opposite direction, onto the runway we had just veered off from, that's barely a different shade of white now, with taxiways, snow and more taxiways layering themselves before the grey terminal building, that hovers in the background. For a brief moment an orange winter sun breaks out behind a dense layer of clouds and fog and illuminates their path, as if to say they made the right choice not heading into the commotion. From their confident calmness I can feel that this cat just saved our lives and somehow only the two of us get to feel this supernatural mood shift and zen wash over us. "First time?", the cathuman mouths from quite far away. I smile again and look at the crowds, to which I am still closer, frantically pulling out their phones to film or call loved ones, pushing into busses that were arriving and being tucked into silver and gold thermal blankets. I nod and watch them dance over the snow like speckles of light. "It's been ongoing though. Relentless.... anyways, what made you slip off the runway?" My whispering carried all the way over to the runway. The cat shrugged. "Today I knew this was the right way. I knew it even before the tire burst. You could say I was prepared." The set of footprints was all that was left after a while. My following eyes deduced they had walked all the way back to the gates and with much effort snuck their way all back into the pilots rooms to a warm cup of black coffee.

It would be two more month until I would meet the pilot again, via a more of less blind date on grindr. He hadn't put any photos on his profile I could have identified him with, but the view of the soft chest laying on a sun flooded mahogany bed under a skylight with soft sheets of fabric draped around it pulled me in. I wanted to meet the person who could afford to have such impeccable taste in their comfort and hornyness and seemed to live in a space where not a single thing was grey, except chest hairs fluffing up against pillows. I found out his name was Marshall when I got there and I mostly remembered it because he looked like a Marshall. I lied and told him I worked in a Sex Shop, when the truth was I had quit soon after our accident flight, when my floating state didn't wear off quick enough and my calmness scared the customers and staff alike. The attraction between us produced some kind of static in the air, that he charmingly brushed away. Even with the hairs on his head standing up he didn't look undignified or funny to me. It was like he was happening to the world, not the other way around. It was as if we had met now again specifically because of that day on the tarmac and not because we both had texted back horny messages and forth for an afternoon last weekend. "Would you like some tea?" I accepted and intuitively moved across the heavy wooden floorboards towards the bed, where I curled up into a little bun. Naked and soft to the touch. The green tea cup leaned again my exposed skin soon after and the floating that had taken a soft slumber in me awoke again and I saw Marshall and me from above, while I could feel his teeth sinking into the soft dough I had become. I was the perfect afternoon tea snack and he devoured me whole, taking sips out of his cup, leaving mine spilled between the bed sheets. To my surprise I realized I was not hovering over the bed unsupported, when he had taken the last bite, but was leaning down from a rather large bookshelf, overlooking the bed nook. Maybe I had just watched him eat a soft cake with his tea and I was in fact still here. I wanted to say something, like "do you still fly?", to break the ice, but he had sensed the question and waved it away. He invited me down and we fucked for a night and once again when the morning sun struck the other side of the apartment, the kitchen, which hadn't lay illuminated yesterday evening. He sat down there again after a while, and with him leaving it replayed that he was gone again this time, from feeding on me to walking away. And once again he was happening to the world and there was nothing it could do about it. It was the first time I met a person that became present the more by themselves they appeared. I took that imagine into my mind for quite a while, watching his spread legs and still slightly hard clit and his absent yet content gaze across the kitchen table. This was the day the floating stopped, but it was clear that the flight had changed something in me. I shook off some breadcrumbs from my shoulders and hurried out onto the balcony barefooted, jumping out over silver and grey roofs into Berlin.

[matchamorphosis]

MS ROSIE THAT HEADCANNON OMFG MAY I PRETTY PLEASE REQUEST DADDY ARI- maybe like hes busy with work but youre really needy so he lets you ride his thigh i lub mean daddy ari🥺<33333

𝐶𝐴𝑁𝐷𝑌 𝐶𝑂𝐴𝑇𝐸𝐷 𝐶𝐻𝐸𝑅𝑈𝐵

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 || Ari hasn’t been paying you much attention and so you take matters in your own hands as well as your short cherry skirt.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 || smut smut smut

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 || alt. AU — daddy!ari levinson × [black//woc]fem!reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 || 18+ nsfw, thigh riding, masochism, kinda dark!ari, spanking, hair pulling, lots of edging, tons of crying, Ari is a big meanie :(( MINORS DNI — 18+ INTERACTION ONLY

𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 || candy by doja cat

𝐰. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 || yes jasmeen of course you can!! 🥺💗 i’m gonna make daddy!ari extra mean and dirty for you and i’m gonna add a little bit of bratty reader cause in this house we love mean daddies and spoiled brats! 💗💗💗

Ari’s eyes follow the screen to the stacks of paperwork in front of him. all this was due by the end of the week and he still didn’t file the information from the online form to the files laying on his desk.

there were times where Ari broke some work related limits of hours upon hours of desk work fueled by caffeine and your kisses of encouragement but then again he did have his limits.

these were those times but no matter how much he promised himself he’d take a break, meaning to check up on you and see what you’ve been up to. although time seemed to pass and Ari hadn’t realize that that side note was forgotten three hours ago on the account of his mind relentlessly kept on reeling him back into his paperwork.

the large coffee mug you made him at a pottery class sits besides a stack of files is pushing its fifth refill of the day as Ari pours the remaining bitter black liquid from the coffeepot. the dark black liquid flowing into the yellow painted, honeypot shaped mug.

it makes him smile at the memory of when you gifted it to him, wrapped in sparkly wrapping paper he presses kisses all over your face in gratitude. he always complained on needing a mug since he always dropped them and he was certain to never drop of break this special mug his princess made him.

its sudden with the loose grip he has on the coffee mug that the coffee spills over the brink of the mug and onto a few papers. the action causes Ari to blurt out an aggregated scold before fanning out the papers soaked in coffee to the side near a fan.

sitting back down on his chair his eyes look over the work he has completed. stapling and putting away documents that have been signed and filed out as well as closing off tabs that weren’t important anymore-

he still has more work cut out for him

his rushing thoughts and swift hands bearing a pen and the other a computer mouse, his head shoots up as a rhythm like knock echoes at the home office door. “come in,”

the low rumble of his voice speaks out as his eyes and attention to back on the papers in his grasps. sipping on his black coffee, slightly sweetened in his desired cream and sugar packets, his focus and eyes stick to his paperwork.

the door opens to reveal you, slightly irritated and desperate for attention from your daddy. you were certain with your presence and the way your heels clack against the flooring he would lift his head up. adjust the small glasses on the brink of his nose and acknowledge you, tell you that you look cute today or stop writing all together but it doesn’t spark interest to him at all.

thin spectacles on the brink of his nose, loose curtains of hair rest on the sides of his face. as you take steps closer you can see the worn out exhaustion in his blue hues and the deep darkness of his under eye bags. daddy hasn’t slept great in days, always joining you in bed in the early morning hours and waking before you can. so now knowing that your mission for attention might not be the best idea, you know when your daddy gets like this.

it’s best to leave him work but it wasn’t healthy for him to overwork. it’s stress none stop about getting work done cause it wasn’t good for daddy! and despite you feeling a burn in your belly that you wanted to deny and push aside for him...

even you had your limits of being deprived from his embraces, praises and touches.

a solid three days it’s been that Ari has been glued behind his desk. it irked you how demanding his job was but you had to be his supportive princess, he needed all the support and encouragement. even if it meant to ignore the wetness in between your thighs that needed to be catered and handled by your daddy then so be it...

maybe you can get a bit of attention, a morsel of affirmation from him and you’ll be set to go. maybe you shouldn’t have worn the outfit you have on if you now just want a praise of two but you don’t hesitate to get comfortable. settling in one of the form fitting arm chairs at the far corner of your daddy’s office near the towering bookshelves and his hanged degrees.

admiring how smart and brave your daddy is with his degrees, certificates and honors as you play with the little charm bracelet he gave you. throwing one smooth leg over the other your mini skirt rakes up to reveal your upper thighs but still covering up what little you’re trying to hide. you liked dressing up pretty for daddy and he did to, today was no exception cause you were planning on cheering him up.

when he would finally realize you were here- you roll your eyes as he takes another sip of coffee. taking all your necessities that you stuffed in your Strawberry Shortcake book bag, you laid the elements of entertainment on the coffee table in front of you near the plush armchairs.

one of your lisa frank coloring books being thrown across the expansive wooden tabletop, you take out your bright vivid gel pens and pastel markers from your coloring pouch. and by taking out you unzip the pink pouch and turn it upside down for it all to fall on the table.

the clashing plastic crash of your coloring tools against the polished tabletop alert Ari- his head shooting up as his eyes meet your distanced body uncapping a scented marker and opening a page of the coloring book.

“princess? I didn’t see you, what are you doing here?” his voice breaks as he drops the pen in his hands briefly, softly smiling as he sees your face driven in concentration. his smile deepens when your nose doing the cute little scrunch thing when you’re unsure about something but plan on figuring out.

hair styled in one of your complicated yet sophisticated hairdos, his large sweater he allowed you to wear since the morning still adorns your bodice comfortably. knees bended, he sees them bare but an outline to a crimson red skirt falls on your hips.

it’s a shame Ari couldn’t get up and scoop you up in his arms, play and color with you for a bit without the ball and chain of his work holding him hostage at his desk.

“so now you notice i’m here,” your voice lightly snaps but it’s mellowed as your lips pull into a pout, pulling the strings of his heart. a sense of guilt rises in his chest because he knows he hasn’t been caring for you properly these past few days. without the little moments of meals and getting ready for bed he hasn’t been spending time with you that much.

“don’t be like that princess. daddy just has alot of work to finish-” but you still shake your head, confusing Ari as you cross your arms over your chest.

“but I don’t want daddy to work! daddy works forever! I want special time!” you whine, your eyes tearing up as you slam your hands against the table. making the coloring books, pens and markers quake at your mercy.

at this moment Ari’s at your mercy, and if he permits you to continue this stirring frenzy who knows how much he’s going to spend away from his work to calm you from a potential tantrum. so the words that come out of Ari’s mouth make you hault your next actions of crying and screaming-

the simple notion of, “come here princess, bring your coloring book with you. we can work together,” makes your tears stop falling and your body rising to leap towards him. grabbing your things quickly and making your way to your daddy. it’s now that he sees you in your outfit that has his eyes sticking anywhere else but yours.

a smirk curling your glossy, cherry painted lips you turn around for him so he could see your little ‘outfit’ the flow of your skirt tempting to rise up at the bottom curve of your ass but you’re hoping to save the surprise do what’s underneath it later, “do you like my skirt daddy?” you say, your eyes tracing his and he only but stares at anything else but your eyes.

the rich gleam of your thighs and long legs, the way your chest peaks out through the fabric to his sweater, your tempting glossy lips and those damn heels...

his response is his hands patting down on his thigh, enough to practically make your heart jump at the sight. it’s been that long since you’ve sat on his lap but then again you constantly need to be on it.

a moonlight smile pulls at the corner of his lips when you drop your coloring books and markers on his desk. making sure to not mess up his paperwork with yours, Ari moves his papers to make way for your things.

sighing happily when you settle your bum in between both of his thighs to get comfy. sweet scent of strawberries and cream from your shampoo wafting to his nose and the stark fruitiness of your scented markers mixing with the coffee steam from his mug marry together.

the two of you do your separate jobs peacefully, with the exception of you reaching for his honeypot mug to have a lick of coffee that he tsks at you. moving the mug away from your grabby small hands.

“that’s a big people drink sweet pea. i’ll give you a juice box if you’re thirsty,” but you just shake your head and get right back to shading with your colors.

“daddy may I please play my hello kitty game?” your perky voice starts as you start coloring the detailed tiger cub. emphasizing on the may and please, your daddy was a sucker for good manners and etiquette.

shifting against only his right thigh now, your back hunches to reach the desk with difficulty until he shift to get you comfortable. continuing coloring but your eyes leave once in a while to stare at the keyboard Ari’s fingers clack with each key, “not now princess.” Ari hums and you frown sourly.

the online hello kitty theme park game would be an excellent way to have you distracted as he works but at the same time Ari doesn’t think it’ll be healthy for you to invest that much screen time. and besides he’s working on it, leaning your head on his bicep you let go of that unwanted answer and get back to color tinting and detailing.

Ari files in the margins of the paperwork and writes everything out as you do with your coloring sheets. as the minutes turn into hours, his mug once again being filled with coffee and your sippy cup filled with your juice. you finish coloring page after coloring page and Ari stack after stack of paperwork.

leaving you halfway done with your one hundred and seventy-five page Lisa Frank coloring book and your daddy only one stack of field files. the amount he managed to finish has him impressed of himself and grateful to his special good luck charm sitting perfectly right on his thigh.

“daddy look at all the pages I finished!” you cheer as you pull out the coloring book for him to look over, practically bouncing on his thigh from excitement. the dazzling brightness of your wide toothy smile bringing a large smile to Ari’s face as he takes the coloring book to look over at your hard work.

flipping each page, the drawings and outlined sheets were more colorful and detailed than the last and Ari was indeed speechless and at awe. proud of his creative princess and her clever unique technique with scented markers and glitter gel pens.

“princess these are gorgeous! I have a little artist on my hands don’t I?” Ari grins and his words make the wide smile you have crinkle as your eyes dash away from his flustered.

your bashful state makes Ari chuckle but his eyes don’t pull away to continue analyzing and admiring your work. you indeed did an excellent job at coloring and Ari thought you’d struggle a bit with the detailed sheets of Lisa Frank. the refrigerator tonight will be decorated in these latest masterpieces, he’ll make sure of it.

and you know what? you deserve a reward.

Ari thought and he bends to the side to open the second compartment of his desk just above his organized files. pulling the drawer open, his hands roam over the pens, staples and office supplies in search for the treats.

stopping his short search when his fingers grab the bag of heart shaped lollipops he at times rewarded you when you listened to him extra carefully. he grabs one and brings it up to your eyesight, enjoying how your eyes light up and follow the lollipop with each motion.

starlight eyes widen and focus on the cherry lollipop in your daddy’s grasp then stare up at him again, “is that for me daddy?” you words drip in eagerness, wanting to taste the sugary sweet artificial fruit against your tongue.

Ari’s eyes playfully squint against your mischievous ones, his fingers undo the wrapper and disregard it aside on the desk. wonderstroke eyes looking over the bare heart shaped lollipop, you can smell the tangy cherry and your mouth waters.

although you don’t expect daddy to take the lollipop in his mouth. a pout pulling your lips as you rock against his thigh for a taste and you stop once your daddy takes it out with a smart delightful pop!

“open up for daddy princess,” and you don’t need to be told twice as you open your mouth so Ari could place the heart lolli in your mouth. “tongue out sweet girl,” and you stick your tongue flat out, making Ari smile at your good listening skills.

your glossy lips closing around the sweet candy on a stick, you hum at the sweet taste, “thank you daddy,” Ari simply kisses your forehead before patting your head, getting straight into work.

despite the candy he gave you, you’re still upset he still is ignoring you. by all means you could color as many pages in your coloring book for eternity but they never gave you the same satisfaction then the attention daddy gave you.

being deprived of it, you’ve also been deprived of his cock.

locked away in the depths of your shared bedroom you couldn’t just replace his thick fingers with yours. your pink silicon toys with his cock because they didn’t reach the golden spot he easily could reach. and you couldn’t rub your panty clothed pussy against one of your pillows and pretend it was Ari’s body.

no matter how much you wanted to touch yourself at times- hell you wanted to touch yourself when you were in your playroom this early afternoon. Ari obviously wouldn’t notice since his head was deep in paperwork but you knew you couldn’t break one of his golden rules.

right now daddy was right here, you were sitting on his very lap and compared to him you were a little thing in desperately critical need to be taken care of. your slicked cunt wasn’t going to stop over-examining your daddy’s big arms that caged you in. his large hands that held the pen that looked so small in it as he wrote. his wide muscular chest that you rest your back against.

not to mention the soft and tender caresses of his one hand rubbing your thigh through your fringed scarlet red skirt. soft lips pressing gentle kisses on your hairline here and there along with the scratch of his thick beard. the soft spoken praises he whispered in your ear as you colored quietly for him.

daddy himself made you needy, very needy. because as much as you could sit still and color quietly and be his good girl you desperately wanted to grind your cunt against his thigh.

but then again who were you to ask for permission?

the sudden shift your body has against his thigh doesn’t ring any bells or blast any alarms since he just thinks you’re simply shifting to find a comfortable position.

wandering fingers trace the veins bursting from your daddy’s flexed hands and forearms that grip his pen as he writes. as well as the other that’s hooked around your belly to keep you still, finding the perfect rhythm to roll your hips against ari’s thigh.

holding in a whimper you suck on the lollipop hard, picturing the heart shaped lolli has the tip of his cock but then again it just makes you drip pathetically against your daddy’s thigh even thinking of that. the burning pleasure vibrating at your core as your hips continue to rock onto the denim of your daddy’s jeans. the slick of your pussy soaking your panties and the honey seeps through the crotch of the thin lace thing.

as much as you’re doing a good job at keeping your little sounds to yourself and throwing Ari off at your dirty work as you carry on coloring he isn’t oblivious to the wetness that is drenching his thigh nor your ongoing grind you have on it.

no matter how considerable you told him earlier that you were coloring the page you’re working on for him and how adorable you looked grinding your desperate cunt on his thigh.

you didn’t ask for permission

Ari’s sure if he could lift your body away from his thigh they’re would be a wet patch stained on his jeans. he can hear the sloppiness of your wet folds and slick with each rock your hips have. the smell of your arousal filling his nose, the cherry in your breath as you let out a little whimper. feeling the loose string of your orgasm building in the pit of your belly beginning to tighten as you roll and rock your hips to the lace that makes you melt.

“stop it,” Ari’s low rumble commanded, his hands still writing something but his eyes dash from his work to you. eyes closed and face clouded in lust as you persist your grinding. head and conscious tucked away in your dirty little dream world. Ari doesn’t let the fact that you’re sucking on the lollipop like it’s his cock or the little moans that sound like high pitched hums.

he gave you you’re a reward and he can easily take it away

oblivious of your daddy’s true intention you moan when his hand lands on your head, stroking through your hair until he takes a handful of it and pulls your head back. a gasp escaping your lips, your eyes open and the grind you have on his thigh comes to a crashing stop at the painful tug.

“daddy let go!” you loudly whine. your eyes watering at your ruined orgasm and your hair potentially getting ruined by your daddy’s harsh hold.

another cry escapes your lips when ari pulls your head back even more, causing your back to arch as his breath wafts against your earlobe. “daddy told you to stop, princess. is my little princess a dumb baby or is my little princess too busy fucking herself on daddy’s thigh to listen?”

the coarseness of his remark makes you shiver, a whimper and cry leaving your lips as your eyes water as the hold he has on your hair tightens.

“get your filthy cunt off of my thigh and keep coloring that picture for me. can you do that for me or you going to wander and get lost in that whorish brain of yours?”

rapidly nodding your head up and down and lift your hips over his thigh, your need to please and answer his question quickly makes him chuckle into your hair. although you’re still whimpering and pouting over your ruined hair, you spent all morning making it cute and perfect all for it to be ruined with a single tug from his large hands.

hot bothered breath and searing lips grazing against the shell of your ear causes your wetness to seep and drip onto your rubbing thighs. catching you in the act, Ari’s free hand pulls the skirt above your hips, expecting you to wear some kind of tiny lace panties but you aren’t wearing anything.

blue eyes don’t meet any scandalous undergarment, just your plump ass and your dripping cunt desperate for his touch. desperate for a release and his attention, his hands examine the flimsy material for a skirt that deliciously hugs and covers your hips.

feeling your daddy’s stare on your princess parts, it makes your heart jump and thump when his hands grab at your ass. kneading the flesh of it before gripping the waistline of the cherry red skirt.

“daddy-?” another gasp escapes your lips when a loud tare ripples throughout the room and the weight of cold air hitting your slicked, exposed pussy.

Ari grunts as he takes the fabric of your now ripped skirt and throws it onto the floor without a care, all he wants to see is your pussy. a large hand comes down to slap your ass, enjoying the way it bounces back like it’s a response. it has all the blood and lust flowing down south to his hardening cock.

“do daddy a favor princess and shut the fuck up before daddy makes you,” the threat makes you whimper, the lollipop in your mouth swirling sweetly against your tongue as your daddy pinches and gripes handfuls of your ass. slapping the flesh and watching it bounce, he wants to dig his teeth in your peach flesh.

“take my sweater off. I want nothing on what’s mine. do you understand?” Ari groans in your ear as his hands glide around your hips to dip into your cunt, his fingers stroking your folds and not believeing how wet you are. “oh and princess, the heels stay on,”

whimpering and following his order quickly, grabbing his sweater from the helm and lift the heavy wool material of the sweater above your head. body fully bare and under the heat of his burning glance, you drop the thick article of clothing in your hands on the floor. leaving the heels on as he commanded, feeling the lust filled burn of his stare intensify as you rest your hands together on his knee waiting.

waiting impatiently for the matter for his next command. the smell of the baby oil and sweet strawberry lotion he rubbed on your curves earlier that day hits his nose and he moans. you look, smell and- as he takes his fingers in his mouth and moans- taste like candy.

hearing the sudden sound of a heavy metal buckle of his belt loosen, Ari’s hard cock rises up and hits the hard muscle of his belly. an untamed groan escapes oats his lips when you turn your head over your shoulder to see him rubbing the tip of his cock with his thumb.

those starlight eyes that usually gleam in their faux innocence stare back at the fire in his eyes and you pout. wanting to touch daddy’s cock and taste him on your tongue. but your eyes tear up when he takes his thumb and suck the white cum into his mouth, not leaving enough for you to taste.

it makes you whip your head away from his handsome smug face. Ari doesn’t ignore the sniff out of you as he sets sight of your bare body in front of him. resting your elbows and body weight on the desk your arched back leaves loads of space for him to glide his hands through. running delicious shivers throughout your spine before he slaps your ass again. stinging and burning but your cunt creams in pleasure as you bite your bottom lip.

“my slutty princess wasn’t wearing a bra under daddies sweater? no panties under those scraps for a skirt? fucking knew you looked too good. wanted daddy to find out and ruin your tiny pussy, didn’t you? wanted to distract me from work? nasty little girl thinking she can get what she wants.”

not daring to let out another moan, his hand still gripping your hair loosens as his free hand rises up your waist to pinch a nipple. “answer me slut. you get nothing if you don’t,” his hiss rings and normally you would laugh at him in this state. telling off his stupid hunchmen on the phone as you got all hot and bothered as he yelled at them, making them beg for his forgiveness.

now you’re on the end of that anger; and you don’t mind it one but as his large calloused hands grab the fragments of your ripped skirt on the floor before analyzing your bare body arched pretty and posed for him. in nothing but your big girl heels with your cute lacy white socks, his cock is painfully hard now as the tip paints his abdomen in precum.

“yes daddy. I wanted you to fuck me. I wanted you to stop working because you haven’t touched me and I want cummies! I deserve cummies!” you cry but the words are too sloshed and unreadable from the lollipop in your mouth.

it’s quick that Ari takes the stick and pulls it away from your mouth with a swift and perky pop! a loud whine excludes your lips from his sole action but it’s replaced with a gasp as Ari slaps your mouth, “shut your big brat hole up before I stuff it shut myself,” and you moaned at him, fucking moaned at the threat.

it leaves him just as speechless as you, you’re face wafting in the heat of your embarrassment and you cower when his smirk curls deviously done on you. Ari wants you to cry- God he wants to rip your heart out and bandage it up with his cock

“dumb babies like you get what daddy gives you. nothing else, now grind on daddy’s thigh princess,” his rough command makes you freeze, not even daring to breathe for a second.

wondering if he’s being serious, and it’s as if he could read the confusion buzzing in your head he decides to clear it up. the harsh and stinging spank awakes you from your overthinking session and you get to work. working to gain the same pleasurable friction you were enjoying moments ago.

your hands gripe the edge of his desk till your knuckles bulge out around your soft skin. rocking your hips against the roughness of his jeans, this time no panties are in the way as your slickness flows freely. lubricating your folds and soaking his thigh with your juices, it makes him chuckle when he feels your wetness soak through the fabric onto his thigh. you’re so pretty and obedient he could fuck your till you couldn’t think or stand.

“do you think you can finish your coloring page before you cum princess? show me how good you are at coloring.”

Ari’s artificially sweet remark makes you whimper, just as artificial as the cherry heart lollipop you were licking. not hesitating or wasting a minute, you quickly grab your coloring book and markers and get straight to work.

thankful you didn’t have to color much, one good thing leading you to this moment you could feel your orgasm nearing. the high peak that you’re getting closer and closer to, you want to jump off the cliff and dive into the waves of your pleasure. who knows what daddy would do if you didn’t finish your drawing on time, you needed to fucking cum.

you always got what you fucking wanted regardless what daddy thought, but maybe you spoke to soon-

“please princess, daddy knows you can grind harder on that. show me how much of a slut you are for daddy’s thigh,” you whimper at his command and obey immediately.

grinding harder against him, his teeth biting the soft bit of ear as his fingers roll your hard nipples. slightly wincing and deeply moaning, you can’t help but allow him to make you slip in that space of mindless obedience.

daddy always made you a moaning wet mess, always desperate for his approval and sweet honeyed praises. glassy eyes concentrating on your coloring sheet, it was becoming difficult to focus on coloring as you rocked your hips. trying desperately to withhold your orgasm but desperately trying to please daddy and grinding harder. hot tears springing in your eyes at the havoc situation, you let out a sob as your rock against Ari’s thigh.

Ari only but cooed at you, thumbing away your hot salty tears. “what a little crybaby,” he chuckles through a fake sympathetic smile. fisting his hard slippery cock in one hand as the other crept down to rub your little button. if anything Ari wants more now is for you to cry- it’s getting his cock harder and harder as the tears drip onto the coloring sheet.

“daddy I-I can’t color that fast!” that cry as his thick fingers advancing in their speed and pressure. stroking the puffiness of your folds before brushing against your drenched hole.

taking not a single ounce of regard to your wail, he responds only by pinching your pussy lips. causing you to cry out in sudden pain before he strokes your pussy to calm you. thick digits gathering up your arousal, your folds creating a lewd serenade in the golden tint of his office.

“you can’t color that fast? my stupid little princess doesn’t know how to color quick enough? to color a small stupid drawing before she can cum? huh, princess? answer me!”

there doesn’t need to be any tugging at your hair or harsh slap to your ass for you to quiver against him. Ari- your daddy has a magical way of making you submit with just the ease of his words but you don’t know how to answer him at all but to keep coloring. marshmallow tears streaming down your face like shooting stars, you continue to reach your high your daddy assists you on reaching but denies.

however Ari is noticing that you’re practically almost done coloring the picture, by the time you’re finished you’d probably cum and fufill his order. oh he couldn’t let that happen. his spoiled brat wasn’t gonna cum until he felt she deserved so, which wasn’t gonna be anytime soon if he could do anything about it.

quick hands slap down on your ass, causing the marker in your hand to scribble slightly over the lines. a gasp escaping your lips your bottom lip trembling at the sight and rushing figuring out how to fix it. scarlet heels clacking together, his hands stop tracing the lace of your socks at your ankles.

ravishing in your panicked state, he smirks into your hair. grabbing the lollipop he snatched from you earlier from the desk, taking it into his mouth with a satisfying pop! ignoring your offended and hurt whimpers as your daddy steals your reward away from you due to your clumsiness. it makes your vision blurry and your bottom lip tremble violently, head echoing in only one thought and one thought only-

daddy is so mean, daddy’s a big fat meanie.

your thoughts roar but you didn’t mean to say any of them aloud, you’re so caught up in the moment that you have no idea you did so because now your ass is getting spanked again and again and again and again. all until your peach flesh burns and Ari can see the indents of his fingers on that heart shaped ass he loves so much before bringing his hand back in your hair.

tugging it so your spine suddenly arches back so his lips brush your ear, a gasp escaping your mouth. “I can be meaner princess. you stop coloring and I won’t let you cum. do you understand that? stupid whore.”

the growl rolls off his lips and it just adds onto the sheet of sweats glistening off your skin. tears drop from your lashes as shaky, trembling hands grip the markers as you persist on finishing the coloring page. feeling your body is on fire, your sobbing cunt continues to rock against his loins and the pleasure is almost unbearable you whimper.

the smirk plastered on Ari’s face is sinful, his hands unbutton his shirt to leave his chest bare. golden pendant glistening in the light bulbs of his office. back muscles resting against the leather of his office chair, he strokes his throbbing cock. biting his bottom lip enjoying the naked sight of his desperate slut for a precious princess bouncing and rocking on his thigh.

arms bended calmly behind his head, biceps slightly flexing as he licks on the lollipop he took from you. humming from its sweet taste while imagining it’s the nipples of your tits, his tongue flicking over the heart shape- sucking sharply on it. savoring the sweet cherry taste as his hands graze up to gripe your bouncing tits. savoring in your heavy moans, stiff sniffles and stuttering sobs all on the account of him.

like taking candy from a baby, his baby.

Ari thinks as he watched your ass bounce, sweat glistening off your skin as your heeled feet shake. moving back in your high unaware matter, your ass unintentionally brushes roughly against his balls. causing you to gasp and your daddy to grunt, ordering you to do it again which you do.

suddenly the thought of fucking your other tight hole full of his white ropes of cum takes over his mind but he was enjoying you trying to find a release. “maybe if you color the picture really nice for daddy then daddy will let you cum,”

Ari spoke, his voice soft and tender like always despite the current moments of viscously degrading and name calling you. you’ve always craved this part of him but who knew it would hurt your heart so fucking good with each insult and slap to your heart shaped ass.

although the remark creates a hopeful glisten in your relieved eyes, posture relaxing a bit. you were certain you wouldn’t be able finish it on time but maybe if you focus on making it look pretty- regardless of a few white spaces- daddy would let you have your cummies. Ari would kiss you on your pretty lips and make you undone with the sweetest command.

oh how you craved it this moment it’s bringing more tears to your eyes.

“r-really daddy?” you stutter, imagining the tenseness of his thigh as his cock. squeezing it just right around your walls as your eyes glue on the coloring sheet. grinding your pussy harder onto his jean covered thigh that let’s all your high pitched and stuttering moans flow like honey, “you really mean it?”

a dark glint shines in Ari’s blue hues, taking the lollipop out of his mouth his hand rubs his shaft painfully slow. that thumb that has been teasing your button glides past his weeping tip, his burning blue glance shifting to you. until his hand reaches up, causing you to moan when he grabs a handful of your hair.

oh how he was going to tear his poor princess down after building her a sense of hope.

“no,”

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - Can’t Stand It

For @ho-ne-ye.

~~~~~~~~~~

Stan was having a bad day. Well, a bad week. Scratch that, a bad month.

It was March, a beautiful time out in the Arctic. For several weeks the Stan twins hardly ever saw the sun or didn’t see it at all. Closer to the holidays they traveled down south to Northern Europe, exploring the United Kingdom and the Northern Islands in order to enjoy daylight, but now that Summer was approaching and Spring was on their side, the Stan O’ War II was moving up to sail above Canada, breaking melting ice and meeting new creatures.

Today they had stumbled across an island covered in woods. The twins had docked to enjoy stable land, but of course it didn’t take long for them to stumble into trouble when they explored the island. Something about trespassing, Stan may or may not have been magically transformed into a small and cute version of himself, but then turned back to normal by a knocked-over potion. It was all a blur, and it all ended with Stan and Ford being tied together hanging over a raging fire as the clan of seal-people with war paint danced around them and singing a weird song.

Enough was enough. With a knife slipped out of a boot and a few left and right hooks, Ford and Stan managed to get away, now being chased by the angry clan and flying arrows. Stan dove on top of Ford to shield his brother from an arrow and they both scurried to their feet and ran deeper into the woods, heading for the beach, but their path was blocked by a giant monster, a half-spider, half-scorpion kind of creature with eight legs, pinchers, a sharp tail, four red eyes, and an angry kiss as it’s hairs vibrated.

Ford shot at it with his ray gun and that only made it angry. It dove for the six-fingered scientist, but Stan shoved him out of the way and soon Stan was thrown back to a tree and made very little attempts to get back up.

“STANLEY!” Ford cried out and shot at the monster again, this time hitting it in the eye. Temporarily blinded and distracted, Ford was about to grab a nearby spear thrown by a villager, pierce the monster, and leave it to bleed to death as he ran to his brother and knelt in front of him. “Stanley! Stanley, can you hear me? Are you hurt?”

“M’fine, m’fine,” The old sailor mumbled as he blinked a few times. “Just lemme catch my breath…”

Ford noticed how he had a hand to his side. He gently prided it away and was horrified to find blood. The monster must have pierced Stan. In one swift motion the eldest by fifteen minutes scooped Stan up and began to carry him to the shore. “You’ll be okay. I’ll fix you up, I can fix this.”

His brother grunted in response, his hands loosely over his wound, but Stan was losing his strength. Ford then noticed a bead of blood dripping down the back of Stan’s neck; he must have also hit his head perfectly on the tree. Ford swallowed, making his Adam’s apple bobble, and he firmly instructed, “Stay with me, Stanley. Don’t go to sleep. You might have a concussion.”

“M’tired.” He muttered in his twin’s chest. They were close, so close to home. Ford’s boots crushed the sand beneath them.

“Stanley Pines, stay with me!” Ford shouted, ignoring the way his brown eyes stung.

“Why should I?”

Ford’s heart threatened to stop. Stan’s voice had been so quiet that he had nearly missed it, but the old scientist heard every word. The wounds didn’t look that bad, Stan would be fine, he was too tough to be taken down by some pathetic monster like that, but the fact that Stan was even considering…

“Wh-Why?!” Ford repeated, mortified by his brother’s delusional question. “Why?! Because I need you! Don’t you dare think about giving up on me, Stanley, don’t you dare! C-Come on, d-d-don’t you wanna see Dipper and Mabel again? Don’t you wanna see Soos marry that Melody girl?”

Stan’s breathing was shallow against his twin’s blue jacket. “You’d be better off…”

“NO!” Ford screamed as he saw the boat farther along the beach. He broke into a faster run. “No, we wouldn’t! I swear! Stay with me, we’re almost there!”

But Stan wasn’t answering. He was very quiet. And a bit limp in Ford’s hold.

“Stanley?! Stanley! Lee! Lee, don’t you dare give up! Don’t you dare leave me, please! I… I can’t do it!” He shut his eyes at the thought and let tears flow down his cheeks as he climbed up onto the Stan O’ War II. “I can’t lose you again. Please, don’t make me.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t fair.

Stan should be perfectly fine, he should be happy. He got his brother back, he had a real family for the first time in forty years, he was living out his dream with his best friend. He wasn’t alien to feeling this cruddy about himself, but at least back then he had something to work towards, something to keep him going, and something to distract him from the voices in his head. But now his thoughts were more apparent now more than ever before and they wouldn’t go away.

The fact remained that everyone would be better off without Stan. He was a mistake, the screw-up, a criminal, a con-artist, a dirty sailor, a worthless heap of flesh. No one really wanted him around, and the people who did would soon get sick of him. Dipper and Mabel called them less and less (which to be fair they have been very busy with exams on the way). And even if it was Ford’s idea to go sailing, how long would it be before he changed his mind? Or had he really meant what he said? Or had he only said what he said because he felt guilty?

No. There was no changing the old man’s mind. Everyone would be better off without him.

He walked down the dock with his hands in the pocket of his brown trenchcoat, his boots clicking against the wood gently. It was bright and shiny and beautiful without it hurting his eyes or requiring sunglasses over his regular glasses. The sun glistened on the water and a soft breeze made him comfortable. The only odd thing was that there was only one boat.

A small boat, actually. It had a sail, like their dream boat as kids, with a cabin down in the bunkers. It was plain and clean and new, with a golden pole and rims on the windows. On it sat a young lady, about early-twenties, with short blonde hair. She was odd, wearing a white Hawaiian shirt with golden palm leaves, white shorts, and had a golden watch on her wrist as she filed her nails, reminding Stan of a secretary from high school. This girl was sitting on the boat with her legs crossed, sporting white sneakers, and hummed a familiar tune, though Stan couldn’t pinpoint it.

The girl glanced up at him, put her eyes back on her work, and called, “You coming?”

Stan shrugged, his hands still in his pockets. “Depends. Where you going, sweetie?”

“Well I’m hoping to grant a handsome sailor his wish, but it’s whatever.” The woman said as she held up her hand to look at her nails boringly.

Stan smiled cockily. “Oh yeah, how so?”

“You think everyone would be better off without you, right?” The woman stood and gestured to her boat. “Wanna see for yourself?”

Stan blinked. Okay this was weird. Was he on TV? He shook his head like a wet dog and scratched next to his red beanie. “Uh… ‘cuse me?”

“You heard me. Wanna see if you’re right?”

“How are you gonna show me if I’m right or not?” Stan asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

The woman sighed as she glanced at her watch. “Look, I don’t have a lot of time, so here’s how it’s gonna go. I’m gonna go sailing to a timeline in which you were never born. Ford never had a twin, Caryn and Filbrick only had two sons, et cetera and et cetera. Then we can talk about where we’ll go from there. But whether you’re coming or not, this boat is leaving in thirty seconds.”

Stan looked away from the woman, down at the sea crashing against the dock gently. This didn’t make any sense. This was like something out of a cheesy movie. He didn’t have to go with this girl and see a world without him in it, but it might answer some of his questions. He just wasn’t sure if he would get the answers he wanted. Oh well, it’s not like he had anything better to do.

“Ten seconds.”

“Alright, I’ll bite.” Stan shrugged and climbed up on board. “Set sail, Ms… Hey, what’s your name, anyways?”

“You can call me Honey.”

“Okay, Honey…”

“Oh my God, he called me honey…”

“Wait wut?”

“Time to go!” The woman grinned for the first time, a sly foxy smile with sparkling eyes and beautiful lips curled upward. She stood from her seat, pulled her sail loose, and it suddenly jetted across the sea so fast it threw Stan back and he had to catch himself from falling into the ocean, meanwhile the girl in all white stood perfectly calm.

“So, where we going?”

“I told you,” Honey said calmly. “We’re gonna go see what it would've been like if you had never been born.”

“Yeah, but where?”

“First stop, Gravity Falls.” The sea around them was fading into woods and trees and dirt, and soon the bot came to such a sudden stop that Stan was thrown to the other side and sat his head on a pinetree, growling as he stood up straight on the sailboat and rubbed his forehead.

Stan looked around and recognized the woods. Yup, this was definitely Gravity Falls, but… something was off. It was gray and cloudy overhead. And they were in front of a big open patch of woods Stan had never seen before.

“What is this place?” Stan asked as he hopped off the sailboat in the mud.

“Gravity Falls.”

“I know that! I mean… I’ve never been here before.”

“Yes you have.” The woman said as she got off her ride and stood beside the old sailor. “You lived here for thirty years in another timeline.”

Stan’s eyes widened. “No… Is this where the Mystery Shack’s supposed to be?”

“You got it.”

“But…” Stan was racking his brain, thinking. “What, did Ford never come here? Cuz he went to that West Coast Tech school he never came here?”

“Nope. Ford never moved to Gravity Falls, which means no Mystery Shack.”

“I always thought there’d be a big mansion here or something.” Stan shrugged and said, “Okay, so there’s no rundown tourist trap. Big deal.”

“Eh, so you think.” Honey started to walk into the woods, giving no invitation for Stan to follow, making it easier for the conman to do so. “Do you remember what this town was like before the Shack?”

Stan shrugged with his hands in the pocket of his trenchcoat. “Not much. Just a bunch of paranoid weirdos who needed a good laugh.”

They emerged from the woods and Stan gasped at the town. It was even more worn down and cheap than it had been when Stan came thirty years ago. Broken windows were boarded up, pavement was cracked, and either ketchup or blood was splattered here and there.

“Whoa hey, what happened?” Stan asked as they left the woods and walked through the town, shouts and coughs being heard in the distance. “I know this place is a dump, but not this much of a dump.”

“Stan, do you really think your business was the only one to succeed due to the tourists coming in?” The woman in white asked. “What about the motels? Diners like Greasy’s? Stores and gas stations? All those out-of-state tourists didn’t just give money to the Shack. You’d be surprised how much one tourist trap helps the economy of one struggling town.”

“Okay, sure, but there’s no way the Shack helped out the town this much.” Stan argued, gesturing around them lazily.

“No, you’re right. Really, the town didn’t hit hard times until about five years ago.”

“Why…”

Screeching tires interrupted the old man. He and Honey watched as a very nice, rich-looking pick-up truck spun around the corner and came to a sudden stop in front of a grocery store. Stan’s jaw dropped to the pavement as he watched someone he barely recognized get out of the passenger’s seat.

Soos had a black baseball cap on backwards, wearing a cold, spiky, black-leather jacket, torn jeans, and a gothic, graphic t-shirt. His eyes were so cold and menacing, he seemed a bit taller due to holding himself up with so much pride, and when he snapped his fingers and pointed to the grocery store, five guys emerged from the truck and raided it like it was the end of the world.

“S-Soos?!” Stan gasped. “Soos, what are you doing?!” But he was ignored.

“No one can see or hear us, Stanley.” Honey said as they watched Soos’ gang drag a cashier out by her long hair and began to pumble her just because they could. Soos did nothing to stop it, even smiled a little as the girl screamed for help.

“I don't get it… Soos is a good kid! He’d never hurt a fly! Why in Moses’ name is he…” Stan couldn’t finish the sentence. He was frighteningly reminded of the Colombian gang he was once under.

“Oh, c'mon sweetie, connect the dots. Who do you think taught Soos to be a good kid?”

“His abuelita did.”

The woman chuckled and shook her head. “She tried, but as he got older it really began to hurt that his dad didn’t wanna be around him. And cuz you weren’t there to tell him otherwise… let’s just say high school never happened for him.”

“What?!”

“He dropped out of school in the eighth grade and joined a small gang outside of town. Eventually he made his way up the ranks and now his little gang terrorized the bottom half of Oregon.”

“B-But why?! All cuz I wasn’t there?” Stan asked, shaking his head. “There’s no way…”

“Stanley, who do you think taught him that he was worth something? Who taught him how to stand up for himself and give bullies left hooks? Who had him put all of his energy into hard work?”

Stan stared at his pretty tour guide. There was no way Stan did all that, no way. Sure, he liked the kid a lot, but he never actually thought he impacted Soos’ life this much. Stan looked back at this horrible version of Soos as his gang loaded the car with food and cash and they sped off, leaving the woman to bleed on the sidewalk and wipe the blood from her lips.

“C’mon,” Honey said and gestured onward. “We’ve got more people to see.”

“Okay so,” Stan followed her and racked his brain. Surely somebody benefited from him not being alive. “What about Wendy? Is she still around?”

“Nope. Without you to give her a job here in town, she had to move upstate to her cousin’s lodge, remember? She had to leave all of her friends behind and she was miserable. Still is, actually. Very quiet gal. Doesn’t say or do much.”

“Wendy? Quiet? I don’t believe you.”

The woman opened a door to a shop, but instead of the inside of the building they saw a black-haired Wendy sitting on her bed in her new room, criss-crossed, holding her pillow as she listened to depressing heavy metal.

Stan winced. “Yikes. She turned into a real Robbie.”

“That kid joined Soos’ gang, BTW.” The woman said as she closed the door.

Stan was having a hard time buying the idea that nobody actually got some good out of him not being around. "Wh-What about that lil' troll? Gideon?"

Honey snorted and led the way through town. As they walked, Stan was having a hard time buying this scenario. There was no way he made this much of a difference. Okay, sure, if he not being alive meant Ford never moved to Gravity Falls, and that meant Gravity Falls changed a bit, Stan could understand that, but there was no way this town turned for the worst all because Stan wasn’t there. There was no way the screw-up actually made things better. Right?

“Here we are.” The woman said to snap Stan out of his thoughts.

The car dealership looked mostly the same. A little more run-down, sure, and there was no Tent of Telepathy in sight, but Bud still wore that stupid straw hat with a baby-blue Hawaiian shirt and tan pants, but he didn’t look quite right, either. Heavy bags were under his eyes, looking a bit more like his wife, and the little bit of hair he had was graying a bit too early. He waved his customer goodbye with a smile, but the second they were gone he sighed tiredly and was frightened by a window being shattered by a rock.

“DADDY! GET OVER HERE!”

“Oh, boy.” Bud steadied himself and went back to the house.

“Hey, how come the little jerk’s business isn’t booming?” Stan asked, more interested as to why his biggest competitor wasn’t flourishing in a town that needed someone to believe in. “He’d do great here! He could’ve used his little camera to tell people when S-... when the gang was gonna strike, or…”

“Stanley, sweetie, how do you think Gideon started that tent?”

“I dunno, he decided to use his cuteness to get some cash?”

“Not quite. For a few years he was just a bratty kid, but then he found a journal in his playground full of mystical objects, including a magic bow-low tie. It was that journal that made him think of telepathy. Even if he was fake, it was Journal 2 that inspired him.”

“Okay, okay,” Stan held his chin. “So with no me there’s no Ford in Gravity Falls which means no journals which means no Tent of Telepathy. Fine, but the twerp’s gotta be a better person without that spooky book making him think he’s all powerful.”

The woman in white laughed and pointed to the house. “You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you? See for yourself.”

Stan walked up to the broken window and was mortified at the state of the house. Stains everywhere, chipped and torn furniture, cracked walls, torn carpet, and in the midst of it all was a ten-year-old lying on his stomach on the couch, banging his fists and kicking like a toddler as he screamed horribly. Stan winced, but then was completely thrown off to find Gideon’s hair not white and up Dolly Parton-style, but orange and cut short.

“I WANT IT, I WANT IT, I WANT IT!” Gideon screamed as if he was being murdered.

His poor mother was against the wall, holding her heart and breathing heavy; Stan noticed the signs of an anxiety attack.

Bud slowly approached his son and tried to calm him down. “Now, sugar pie, please…” But the human beaver was kicked in the jaw, leaving a bruise and making him bite his lip so hard he bled. Bud held his mouth as Gideon continued to scream.

“I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! YOU NEVER GIMME ANYTHANG I WANT! WHY YA HAVE TO BE SO STUPID?!”

“Yikes, how did not being possessed by a freaky journal make him worse?” Stan asked Honey as they walked away from the house. “I don’t get it.”

“Sure, Gideon wasn’t the best kid before the journal, but at least with the journal he had something to work towards, something to put all of his energy into, and he also had you.”

“M-Me?”

“Don’t you remember the first time you met him?”

“Yeah, he took my parking spot with that stupid van.”

“Actually, you met once before.” Honey chuckled as they walked back into the woods. “You were both at the grocery store when he was four. He was with his mom, bouncing in the buggy and demanding for candy. She gave in just to keep him quiet and tuned to pick some milk. You were across the aisle, picking orange juice, when Gideon dropped his chocolate bar while trying to open it. You noticed the candy and the boy making grabby hands at you and the candy, but you grinned, said ‘no’ firmly, picked up the chocolate…”

“... and ate it right in front of him!” Stan laughed. “I had forgotten… I didn’t know that was Gideon! I thought that was just some spoiled brat.”

“Well, it was. You were the first and only person who ever told that boy ‘no’, the only person who really challenged him and pushed him. Thanks to you, he channeled his anger and energy into trying to take you and the Shack down. But without you around to push him, he had no way to get his energy out, except his parents.”

Stan looked down at the dirt and they stopped walking for a second. “This… This doesn’t make any sense.”

“How so?”

“I’m just a screw-up!” Stan argued as he looked back up at the woman. “I’m the twin no one wanted! I’m just some loser of a conman! It doesn’t make sense that a guy like that could… it… there’s gotta be somebody to benefitted from me not existing! What about Lazy Susan? With no Mystery Shack that means no lazy eye, right?”

“Actually, Soos’ gang raided the diner and it ended badly when Susan stood up to them.” Honey winced. “She ended up not only losing her job, but her eye, too.”

Stan swore under his breath. “Fine… What about that McGucket dude? His life’s gotta be better than living at the dump with his mind all jacked up.”

The woman shrugged and led the way deeper into the woods. “Barely. C’mon, we’re going to Tennessee.”

Stan followed the mysterious tour guide back to the sailboat and this time properly braced himself for the sudden speed. Very suddenly they were racing along the sea, colors swirling by them, until they stopped very suddenly on a river. Stan’s jaw dropped to see a huge, beautiful mansion up on the hill by the river. The woman parked the sailboat by the dock and they started to walk up to the rich house, passing a weeping willow with a stone bench with a big crack in the middle.

“This is McGucket’s place?” Stan clarified.

“You got it, genius.” Honey gestured to the six horse stables, the lush garden, all of the nice cars and wagons, and at just how huge and nice and rich the mansion was. “Fiddleford still went to Backupsmore and met his wife, Emma May, and with no Ford to ask for help on a portal, Fiddleford became the inventor of not only person computers, or what’s commonly called laptops, he became the founder of the largest tech company in the country, Berri.”

The woman reached into her pocket and pulled out one of those smartphones the kids had, except the back had a little strawberry with a bite in it. “They went on to invent the first cell phone, BerriWatch, and right now they’re testing a self-driving car. Fiddleford found himself with more money than he knew what to do with and after he built his family their dream home, which by the way is the richest house in Tennessee, he simply expanded his company and made historical international deals. He’s also made huge donations to small run-down towns, like the one he grew up in, to create jobs and try to help out their economies.”

“Cool, okay, see.” Stan said with a smile, impressed by this hillbilly’s success. “One person got a good deal from me not being around.”

Honey rocked her hand side to side and led the way around the mansion, walking alongside the clear open space, passing the weeping willow and bench to move around the hill. “Just cuz he was successful doesn’t mean he was better off. Don’t forget, Fiddleford was never the greatest at handling his stress well. He invented that Memory Gun because Ford accidentally inspired him to, saying scientists have a way of creating solutions to their problems. So with no way to forget his stress and anxiety, Fiddleford drank to forget how worried he was about losing his company if he made a bad deal or if his newest invention or work or if he was putting out a good public face.”

“No.” Stan shook his head. “That goody two-shoes? No way.”

“Hey, he grew up around moonshine, he just couldn’t get his hands on it when he was living at the dump.” The woman shrugged and they came upon a stone pathway and walked down it to a small flower garden that formed a circle. “Anyways, Fiddleford was never violent, thank goodness, but he was drunk more than he was sober. He should be happy, with a wife and son and booming business to boot, but he wasn’t. He fell into depression and drank until he ended up here.”

Stan looked ahead and felt the wind get knocked out of him. There was a flat tombstone in the middle of the circle of flowers. He knew what was on there, but he still slowly approached to read what the stone said. “Fiddleford H. McGucket. 1956-2011. The angels now sing a whisky lullaby.”

Stan backed away, backing up farther than the woman was, shaking his head and even punching his forehead as he tried to think. “This… This doesn’t make any sense! Their lives were supposed to get better without me, not worse!”

“Stanley…”

“The kids!” Stan gasped and looked up at Honey. “Where are the kids?!”

The woman looked sober and she gestured back to the sailboat to go to their next stop. “Back in California.”

Stan was anxious the whole trip, though it only took a minute to get where they were going, but soon they were on the side of the road in front of a middle school. Stan watched on the boat as the bell rang and kids started pouring out. He kept his eyes peeled for his kids and he grinned at the sight of two brown-haired twins.

Dipper wore a long-sleeved blue flannel over his orange t-shirt to go with his gray pants. He still had bags under his eyes and he still had that lucky star hat to hide his birthmark, slouching a little with his backpack, but he was still here, a brilliant thirteen-year-old. Stan was a bit worried to see him looking so down and upset, but both men soon smiled as a young girl skipped out of the school.

Mabel had her long hair up with a scrunchie today and kept back with a headband, still wearing her sweaters, today wearing leggings with her skirt, and she grinned at her twin and punched his shoulder before hugging him. “Hey bro bro! Wanna go to the arcade today? I hear they got some new prizes!”

“Sure, sounds fun.”

“There, you see.” Stan sighed with relief as he watched the kids walk down the sidewalk, passing the boat. “They’re fine, they’re happy. They still got each other.”

Just then, some big buy came around the corner and bumped elbows with Dipper, making Stan’s nephew stop, and the bully shoved him onto the concrete.

“Dipper!” Mabel cried out and looked ready to punch the bully, but a guy came up behind her and grabbed her around the arms, pinning her. Another guy joined the bully and they cracked their knuckles as they gazed down at their prey.

“If it isn’t the best punching bag in town.” The bully sneered. “Feel like fighting back today, Dipstick. It’s no fun having a sparring partner that doesn’t fight back.”

Dipper growled and made a flimsy attempt to stand and punch his opponent, but the bully grabbed his wrist and punched him in the gut and kicked him down, leaving poor Dipper to huddle on the sidewalk while the two bullies hammered on him and Mabel fought to be free and help but was powerless against her capture.

“HELP! HELP! SOMEONE HE-” And Mabel’s mouth was covered, but she still wiggled and screamed.

Stan couldn’t watch anymore. He had purposely waited to give the kids a chance to fight back, but sometimes you just need a little help. “I’M COMING!”

“Stanley!”

Stan jumped off the boat and ran to the kids to pull the bully off his niece and scoop her into his arms, but his arms went right through them. He frantically tried to shove the bullies off his nephew, but again his body went right through them, like he was a ghost.

The woman stood by his side and said calmly, “I told you, no one can see or hear or feel us.”

“I can’t just stand by and do nothing!” Stan yelled at her face.

“Why not? Everyone else has. No one had ever taught them how to fight back when the world fights them, except…”

“Me.” Stan finished for her with a sigh. He made himself watch as the bullies continued to beat Dipper up, finally stopping after the ring leader kicked him in the jaw, and Mabel was let go as they ran off to celebrate their victory.

Mabel crawled to her twin’s side and checked over his injuries as he carefully sat on his knees. “Dipper! Dipper, are you okay? What hurts? Show me what hurts.”

“Ow, ow, ow,” He whined as Mabel touched his swollen eyes and busted lips. Dipper spat out a tooth and held his chest. “I think… I think they cracked a rib.”

“Let’s go home.” Mabel carried his backpack for him and had him lean on her as they wimped onward. “Mom can look at it and take you to the hospital.”

“I don’t get it.” Stan said as he watched his kids walk away. “They’re good kids! Isn’t anyone gonna stand up for them?! What about their parents?! What about their friends?!”

“They don’t have any friends.” Honey said sadly as they watched the twins. “The only friends they had ever made were in Gravity Falls, which they had never visited cuz there was no family there. And Shermie taught your nephew to keep your head down to stay out of trouble, which he’s trying to teach his kids. Unfortunately, it isn’t working out for them, and what used to be bad nicknames and gum in their hair has escalated to fights and notes to kill themselves.”

Stan bit his lip. Not those kids. Not his kids. He wanted to believe things would get better for them, but if no one taught them that they were worth something, that they could stand up for themselves, he didn't have much hope and he didn’t dare ask what their future looked like. But something didn’t sit right…

“Shermie,” He muttered without looking at the woman, still looking ahead. “Y-You said he taught his kid to keep his head down.”

“I did.”

“Why would he do that?” Stan asked. “I mean, sure he’s always been a lame square, but that’s really bad advice, even for him. He taught me and… He taught Ford to stand up for himself. Crampelter was terrified for weeks when Shermie found out he had been breaking Ford’s fingers.”

“He and Ford didn’t see much of each other.” Honey answered quietly.

Something clicked in Stan’s head. While all of this was interesting or whatever, there was only one person that Stan truly believed was better off without him. His better half, the genius, the loved son, the author of the journals, the criminal of the multiverse. His brother. Stan turned to her and asked quietly, “Where’s Ford?”

For the first time, the woman looked scared. She looked away and said, “You don’t wanna know.”

“Yes I do!” Stan bellowed and grabbed the woman by the shoulders. “Please! Where’s my brother?!” This gal had been scaringly quiet about the one person Stan cared the most about.

“Don’t do this to yourself, Stanley, let’s just get back on the boat…”

“Only if you take me to see my brother! Where. Is. Stanford?!” Stan demanded darkly, his eyes pleading the woman to make his request.

The woman sighed and Stan let her go.

They slowly got on the boat and it zipped to the docks of Glass Shard. Stan blinked a few times at being back to where he grew up for the first time in forty years. Dark clouds covered the sky. Not much had changed throughout the years, but why on Earth was Ford still here? They hopped off and planted their feet on the sand, and Honey led the way as she spoke.

“Stanford was still born with six fingers on each hand. Your mother tried to assure him that it only made him special, but Filbrick did a good job of making it clear that that wasn’t the case, and things only got worse when he went to school. You weren’t there to beat up bullies, you weren’t there to tell him that he was special, you weren’t there to help him dream of a future where they would sail away and he’d be free.”

“Yeah but Ford was always a little genius.” Stan interrupted as they left the sand for dirt, the beach slowly turning into a small patch of woods. “He’d win a handful of science fairs and spelling bees and then at least Pa was okay with acknowledging that they were related.”

“But Stanford didn’t win a handful of science fairs and spelling bees.” Honey corrected sadly. “Stanley, you were the only person in his childhood that made him think that he was actually worth something. You were the only one who made him shoot for the stars and believe that he was worth keeping around. Without you to give him confidence, Stanford never expressed his intelligence and therefore never allowed it to grow at all. He did okay in school, but he wasn’t the top student. He never participated in science fairs of sleeping bees or math competitions because he didn’t have enough confidence to put himself out there. Sure he was smart, but teachers weren't going bananas over him because no one, not even himself, knew his potential.”

It started to rain, but of course the two didn’t feel it or were affected by it. “So… he didn’t go to West Coast Tech?” Stan dared to ask as they walked deeper down the dirt path, oblivious to where they were as he was thinking this through.

“No.”

“But… I thought you said he did.”

“No, I said he never moved to Gravity Falls. He never felt home.”

“So… what happened to him? What did Ford end up doing with his life?”

Honey bit his lip and refused to meet Stan’s eye. They walked on and Stan finally realized where they were. He felt ready to throw up. He waited for his guide to speak.

“Much like Dipper and Mabel, things only got worse as he got older. He got to a point where Stanford was stealing Filbrick’s boos and he even started to hurt himself. It wasn’t enough. It was all too much for him. He… He…”

“No.” Stan’s voice cracked and he was terrified when the woman stopped and motioned to a tombstone that laid among the others in this graveyard. “No! You’re lying! He wouldn’t! He didn’t!” He yelled.

“I’m sorry, Stanley.”

Stan finally made himself read the rock. He fell to his knees at the words that shined through the rain. “Stanford Filbrick Pines. 1956-1970.”

“NO!” Stan screamed and punched the ground beneath him as he gritted his teeth and shut his eyes. “NO! HE WOULDN’T! HE DIDN’T!”

“Ma found him dangling from the ceiling. She was never the same after losing her baby.” Honey croaked. “He was only fourteen.”

“NO!” Stan shook his head as he ignored how wet his cheeks and eyes were now. “NO! He… He… He never needed me. He never wanted me around.”

“Yes he did.”

“You’re lying.”

“Stanley, listen.” The woman said firmly behind him. “You said it yourself that family needs each other. I know it’s hard to believe that you’re actually worth something when there’s a dozen voices in your head telling you otherwise, but just like how you need them, your family needs you. Your brother needs you.”

Stan listed his fists up from the dirt, his eyes on the tombstone without seeing. “I… I just thought he’d be… they’d be better off I hadn’t been around.”

“No one knows for sure how they change things or how much they really impact others. But you do. And even if you forget all of this, you know your family loves you enough to tell you that they need you.”

Stan snorted. “Yeah, but what’s keeping them from saying that outta pity?”

“You can’t let yourself think like that, Stanley, you just can’t.” Honey said firmly. “Your family loves you. Stanford loves you. He needs you, and if you don’t believe me, just take a look at what he’s like when you’re gone.”

“Wait what?”

Honey got on her knees beside him and showed him her golden watch. The face changed to a scene, like a tiny TV, and Stan started to find Ford back at the Stan O’ War II, kneeling beside his injured twin who laid more dead than alive on the couch. With tears streaming down his face Ford was wrapping a bandage around Stan’s head and feeling his heartbeat and checking that the bandages around his torso were well and secure.

“Stanley, Stanley please,” Ford begged as he took Stan’s hand and squeezed it. “Please don’t leave me. I need you, the kids need you. Please.”

“Whoa hey, I’m not going anywhere.” Stan said, but then his eyes grew wide and he looked up at Honey. “Am I?”

“I dunno.” She asked as she lowered her arm and smiled at him. “Do you wanna go?”

“Go where?”

Honey chuckled. “On.”

Stan blinked at her. “No. No, I don’t. If… If that knucklehead really wants me around, then I’ll stay.”

Honey blinked her eyes dry and stood up. “That’s what I like to hear. I’ll get you home.”

Stan stood up and followed her back to the boat. “By the way, honey, why’d you do all this for me? What, wanted to earn your wings?”

“No, this was pure self-indulgent.”

“Wait wut?”

~~~~~~~~~~

His head hurt. His side ached a little, but his head really hurt. That didn’t matter. He had no idea why, but he had to see his brother.

Stan forced his eyes open and found his vision blurry thanks to his glasses being folded on the end table. He smiled when he saw that Ford had fallen asleep by his side, kneeling beside the couch, holding his hand, and resting his head face-first into his own folded arms. Outside it was dark, which could mean it was seven in the morning of seven at night, given the fact they were up in the Arctic.

The younger, injured twin, snorted at his brother, which made the aged scientist sit up too quickly for it to be wise, wide awake, with his hair in a gray floof and his red eyes wide and alert.

“Stanley! Thank Moses!” He cried out and stood up to better look over him. “How do you feel? Any pain? How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Calm down, Sixer,” Stan chuckled weakly as he slowly tried to sit up, sensitive to the wound on his side. “My head hurts, but I’ll be fine with some painkillers, and you’re holding up two fingers like some dumb hippy.”

“Oh, thank goodness!” Ford hugged him around his shoulders tightly as his whole body trembled. “I know you showed no signs of a concussion and your wound is not nearly as bad as it could have been, but i didn’t know for sure if you would pull through or what I would do without you and…”

“Geez, relax, it’s okay, Stanford.” Stan shushed as he hugged him and rubbed his back. “M’fine, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good.” Ford said firmly and sat back, a hand still on his shoulder. “Don’t you ever think for a second that I don’t want you here with me, Stanley. I need you.”

“Yikes, where’s all this sappiness coming from, eh?”

Ford blinked at his twin and said slowly, “Y-You said you thought I’d be better off without you…”

Stan waved that away. “Ah, you say stupid stuff when you hit your brain too hard. I swear, Sixer, you’re stuck with me, as long as you’ll have me, anyways. Somebody’s gotta make sure you don’t kill yourself out here.”

Ford chuckled tiredly and shrugged. “I suppose you’re right.”

“I’m always right. Now do we have any stew left? I’m starving.”

[theunknowncryptid]

5. Night One

Next

Masterlist

Namjoon x Y/n

After her brother makes a deal, Y/n is forced to spend seven nights with the leader of the Kim crime family, Kim Namjoon.

Taglist: @amordesiempre01 @jiminals @unadulteratedlyunique @parkmaeri @bbyjoonies @lilacsmoon @s0228 @kelitt @xxxanimangxxx @chogiyeol-utopia @atomickokorox @irenebutfancier

~     ~     ~

The drive was longer than she expected. Y/n figured the quiet man at the wheel would drive her ten minutes across town, if that, but before she realized the skyscrapers turned to oak trees and all she could see were country fields.

“Where are we going?” She asked. The man glanced back at her in the rear-view mirror. He looked like he could be related to the Kim’s.

“To the private estate. Out of town.” His voice was brighter and kinder than Y/n expected. Her stomach churned. What was Kim Namjoon going to do to her that required miles of privacy.

It was a full hour before the driver turned off of the main road and onto a dirt path. Rust colored debris flew into the air around the SUV. A grove of trees opened around the road and gave way to, what Y/n assumed was, the Kim Estate.

“Whoa,” The house in the clearing looked like something out of Clue. It was old and Victorian, built with red brick. It was massive. Large enough for twenty people to live comfortably. 

The SUV parked beside the front of the house. The glass of the door and the windows, yellow light illuminated the grass. The driver stepped out and walked around to open Y/n’s door. 

“You can follow me.” He said as Y/n stepped down. Until then, she hadn’t realized how young he was. Maybe only a few years older than she was. 

He led her into the manor. The inside was just as grand. Decadent rugs covered dark hardwood. It was difficult to place the wall color because of the hundreds of decorations. There were paintings, photographs, bookcases and sculptures covering every available piece of wallpaper. The only light in the main entry was an overhead chandelier. Thousands of diamonds, strung together, cast a warm glow. Stairs lined the left wall.  Directly across the room, an archway led to some sort of living room, but it was too dim to see. Instead of taking her up the stairs or  through the arch, the man turned to the right wall and knocked on large double doors.

He didn’t wait for a summons. The man opened the door and offered for Y/n to walk ahead. Fear raided her body, but she walked through the doors. 

The room was warm. A fire burned in it’s pit against the East wall, filling the space with the sound and smell of a campfire. A beautiful desk was cluttered with papers, files, pens, books and nicknacks. Again, Y/n couldn’t tell what color the walls were. Hundreds of books lined the wall shelves. They were obviously worn and read. Blue velvet chairs sat facing the desk and a large window. The room would almost be cozy, if it weren’t for the tall man standing stiff in front of the fireplace. 

The driver shut the door behind him. It slammed shut and made her flinch. He cleared his throat.

“Your guest is here.” The man at the fireplace turned to look. Y/n struggled to maintain a bored expression. She had heard about Kim Namjoon before. Serious, Intelligent, Dangerous. He was someone to fear. He had to be, being the head of the Kim Crime Family. But simple descriptions didn’t prepare Y/n for the man in front of her. He was incredibly handsome. Dark hair fell over his eyes. His skin was tanned and, by his collar, Y/n could see a thin, white scar leading up his neck. He was dressed in a dark grey suit as if he had just come from a business meeting. His tie was loose around his neck and his hands were shoved in his pockets, making him seem more casual than the situation called for. His features were soft, but his eyes were full of judgment and annoyance. He looked Y/n up and down. 

“You’re late.” His low voice deadpanned.

“Blame your driver.” Her voice came much calmer than she felt. His eyes flickered to the man that stood behind her. 

“That will be all, Jimin.” He said. The air shifted and the sound of the office door shutting echoed. Y/n clenched her jaw. She didn’t want to be left alone with this man. She didn’t want to be here at all.

“You must love your brother very much to come here willingly.” He didn’t move at all. He just stood and stared at Y/n with a blank face. 

“Less and less each day.” She answered, dryly. The corners of his lips twitched up. The fire roaring behind left him as little more than a silhouette. 

“You’re aware of the arrangement we made?” He walked to the desk and picked up a half-drunk glass of scotch. 

“Obviously.” Y/n spat out. Anger flared in her.

“And yet, you still came?” He raised his brow at her.

“What choice did I have?” She glared. Kim Namjoon knew very well that her brother's life hung in the balance. He lifted the glass to his lips and took a swig of the alcohol.

“Your brother had a choice.”

“You knew when you gave the loan that Jungkook wouldn’t be able to pay his debt.” Y/n sneered. Over the last few days, with the help of Jin, she had come to that conclusion. It was a known fact that the Kim’s kept tabs on the Min’s, and vice-versa. Kim Namjoon knew that Jungkook had been cut off from the banks and from the Min’s. Jungkook was broke and addicted to cards. Kim also knew his money would not be repaid. He wasn’t after a simple business transaction. He was after her.

The man grinned. “You’re smart.”

“Why?” She demanded. Her hands fisted at her sides.

“Why not?” He tilted his head. Y/n continued to glare and he sighed. “A chance to have a beautiful woman in my bed. And to watch Min Yoongi squirm.”

“Why would Min Yoongi Squirm?” She feigned. The annoyance returned to his face. 

“Don’t play dumb, Y/n.” The sound of her name coming from his lips made her skin crawl. “You think Yoongi won’t notice one of his closest friends is missing for a week?”

He had her there, but she couldn’t let him know that. “I think you overestimate my worth.”

“No. But, good try.” He smirked. With an air of playfulness on his face he looked even more handsome. His eyes travelled over her body, taking stock. He stepped closer to her and she jumped back in alarm. 

“What are you doing?” She asked. She cursed her wavering voice.

“Claiming my debt.” Kim Namjoon stalked toward her again. Her lips trembled. With her back pressed to the door, Y/n came chest-to-chest with the man.

“You’re evil.” She glared. Again, he smirked.

“Oh, come on, Y/n. You’re a young woman who spends most of her time in a bar.” His hand reached up and gently placed a lock of hair behind her ear. She flinched away. “I can’t be the worst to spend some time between your legs.”

Her mouth dropped in shock and fury crashed inside her.

“You would be the first!” A furious blush covered her cheeks. For the first time that night, she could see a chink in his armor. It made her happy. His eyebrows raised and confusion contorted his features.

“You’re a virgin?”

“Surprise.” Y/n smirked. Pressed this close together she could feel his breath dusting her face. His hands were pressed to the door beside her, caging her in. His face was unreadable. She couldn’t tell if he was about to kick her out or bring her to him. Surprisingly, he pushed away from the door and walked back to his abandoned drink.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It doesn’t?” She paled. Her remaining virginity was her one and only playing card. 

“Nope.” He said. His bored confidence was firmly back in place. “Some would say it makes you even more desirable.”

Y/n scowled. “Then what are you waiting for? Get it over with.”

He smiled at her coldly. “I haven’t had my dinner yet.” He turned back to the fireplace, but spoke over his shoulder. “Will you join me?”

“I’m not hungry.” She stared at him as if he’d just told her he had ridden a seahorse here.

“Pity, you’ll need your strength later.”

Horror filled her features as, on cue, the man named Jimin entered the office.

“Show Ms. Y/l/n to the bedroom, please, Jimin.” Kim demanded. Without a word, both left into the cold of the house. 

Kim Namjoon only wished he could see Y/n’s face when she realized her bedroom doubled as his.

~     ~     ~

The room was huge. Her entire apartment could fit inside. The walls were a bordered forest green with dark hardwood floors. A leather loveseat and a matching chair faced a flat-screen TV. A large, white rug covered the sitting area, bringing light to the dark room. A large mirror covered the interior wall. The far wall had two black doors, one leading to the ridiculously luxurious bathroom, one leading to a closet full of suits, shoes, and surprisingly, hoodies, t-shirts, and basketball shorts. The room smelled like the cologne from earlier. Y/n frowned at that. She felt surrounded by Kim Namjoon. The room was freezing, but the thought of climbing into the ginormous bed made her want to cry. The duvet was black with matching silk sheets. It must have been a king size, but it was hard to tell in the large space. Eventually, she caved and climbed in. With the sheets pulled up to her chin in the dark room, Y/n felt like she was waiting for a death sentence.

Fuck Jungkook, fuck gambling, and fuck Kim Namjoon. Not literally.

At the sound of the door opening, she shut her eyes, pretending to be asleep. Footsteps sounded across the room to the closet. Y/n cracked open one eye. The closet light illuminated Kim Namjoon's silhouette. He shrugged off his jacket and hung it with the rest of the suits. His back was turned to the bed. 

“I know you’re awake.” His voice broke the silence. Grumbling, Y/n sat up. She didn’t bother to ask how he’d seen through her. He turned to look at her. He looked wearier than he has a couple hours ago. His hair was ruffled and the top button of his shirt was undone. He walked to the dresser and picked up a plate he must have brought with him. She flinched as he came nearer. 

“Eat.” He demanded. The plate he offered had crackers, cheese, and grapes. Cautiously, Y/n took a couple crackers. She nibbled on them, but kept her tight grip on the sheets. Kim wandered away and leaned against the bed post. A ghost of a smile played around his mouth. He rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, casually. When Y/n finished the crackers he held out the plate again. Without thinking, she took a few grapes. She watched him carefully.

“You’re different than I thought you would be.”

“I can imagine.” He directed his gaze to the window overlooking a garden of wildflowers.

“Why are we here?” She asked.

“In this house?” He raised an eyebrow at her. As beautiful as it was, Y/n got the idea the house stood unoccupied most of the time. “I promised your brother no one would know about our transaction.”

Y/n rolled a grape in her fingers. “Not because you evil plans work better in the country?”

“Well, that too.” Y/n suppressed a smile, then cringed at herself. There should be nothing enjoyable about her situation. Kim Namjoon planned to use her as payment and if mental or physical damage came with that, so be it. Anger flared in her.

“Stop playing with me!” She glared. Y/n overdramatically threw the covers off herself. She threw herself back onto the sheets. “Get it over with!”

Silence filled the room again.

“Dear lord, Y/n, you desperately need some new pajamas.”

“What’s wrong with them?” She demanded. She looked down at the clothing. An old, stained Dartmouth t-shirt and baggy sweatpants. 

“Did you steal them off a homeless man?” He mocked. 

“What did you expect me to wear? Lingerie?” She snarled. His eyes crawled over her intensely and she knew he was imagining her in just that. Her skin burned from the observation. It reminded her just how horrible and disgusting the man in front of her really was.

“Take it off.” He said gently. Shit.

It was time. She could do this. Who cares if she wasn’t a virgin anymore. 

Slowly, she lifted the ratty shirt over her head and threw it on the floor. Then, she lifted her hips and slid off the sweatpants. Goosebumps formed on her bare skin. She was left in just white panties. She refused to meet his gaze. In the mirror on the wall, Y/n saw her exposed body with Kim Namjoon looming over her.

The room stayed silent until she couldn’t take it anymore. All he did was stand there, staring at her with pure hunger in his eyes. A muscle jerked in his cheek and his fists clenched at his sides as his investigation paused at her breasts. Her face burned in embarrassment. 

He stepped closer and slid his hand across her raised leg. The feeling of his hand on her made her want to pull away and hide. Every nerve in her body twisted and made her gasp.

“You’re beautiful,” He said in a hoarse voice.

“Do it.” Y/n begged. “Please, just do it.”

The minutes stretched forever before he moved again. Slowly, his face lowered to hers. For a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her, then he turned his head and pressed his lips to her cheek. It only lasted a moment and then he pulled back, lifted the covers back over her and walked to the door.

“What-” 

“I’m sorry, Y/n. I guess I’m not interested in martyrs tonight.”

[moonlit-imagines]

Road Trip (Part 1)

Scott Lang x reader

warnings:

a/n: this ended up being really long so i gotta write another part

prompt: scott is back in town!...and out again

part 2

Alright, let’s start at the beginning: you were Hank Pym’s “nurse” for some time, only you weren’t a nurse. You were an agent of some sort, using his old tech to do some favors at ant-size. And you loved it.

But Hank’s daughter, Hope, had some bad news about her boss, which is how you and Scott Lang came to cross paths. You needed another tiny partner for this one, one who specializes in B&E.

“Cool beans.” Scott said after you had finally kissed him, it nearly made you regret doing it in the first place. But this day meant so much to you, because it marked the beginning of your relationship, he was more important to you than anything else. Scott and you were an unstoppable team, there was no doubt about it.

“Daddy!” Cassie shouted as she ran into his arms, you had shown up to his ex-wife’s house for a lovely family dinner, but it didn’t faze you at all. “Is this y/n? You’re awesome!”

“Thanks, Cassie. You’re ‘awesomer!’” You replied with a bright smile, then Jim and Maggie walked over to see the two of you. Truth be told, they were so warm and loving, you felt like you were apart of the family. Within three years of being close to the Paxton-Lang’s, you’d participated in countless game nights, several birthdays, family bowling, and more.

Scott’s house arrest was admittedly rough, but you two managed. You had been living together at the time, and you never failed to remind him that Germany was a bad idea! Well, not bad. Just a little stupid.

“I know, I know, I put everyone in danger and now it’s my turn to make dinner.” Scott leaned down and planted a kiss on your forehead before lazily shuffling off to the kitchen. “Pause the show! I don’t wanna miss anything!”

“Fineee.” You reached for the remote to pause The Office and headed to the kitchen yourself to keep Scott some company. “I don’t want to make you feel bad or anything, I just want you to know that we’re really lucky I was able to convince the feds that I wasn’t affiliated with Hank’s work.” You dragged your finger along the counter, drawing shapes as you frowned at some of your misfortunes.

“I still can’t believe you were able to talk your way out of it. But I’m glad you did, y/n. I’m so glad you did.” Scott discarded the dinner supplies for a moment to give you a hug, remind himself of all that he had gained in these past few years.

Then you two hopped back into trouble with Hank and Hope yourselves, but most of this part isn’t too important to the story, so we’re just going to skip it. What really matters was that the Pym family was doing quantum realm testing on Scott without telling you. You were busy fixing the goddamn fence Scott kicked through when half of the world disappeared just like...that.

“What the hell..?” You dropped the paintbrush on the ground, splattering a bit of paint on your pant legs. What was going on? You pulled out your phone and dialed Scott ASAP—no answer. Hank? Nothing. Hope? Nope. “This isn’t good, this is not good.” You mumbled before dialing Maggie.

“Y/N? Oh, thank god you’re okay!” She placed her hand over her chest and took a deep breath, you could tell she was already a nervous wreck. “Is Scott there?”

“I can’t get ahold of him, do you know what’s happening?” You were starting to panic, too.

“Not a clue. I’m terrified.” Her voice was shaking sufficiently, you were about to cry just hearing it.

“Where’s Cassie and Jim?” You began to clean up your mess just a little half-assed.

“They’re here, we’re all okay.” Maggie nodded and began to pace around her house while you simultaneously ran into yours and tripped over your pants trying to change. “Can you come over here soon? Like now-soon? I just want to, you know, account for everyone I can.” She asked timidly, you really had become family to her.

“Yeah, I’m on my way right now...” You pulled on on a new pair of pants, shuffling them up with one hand. “Don’t leave your house, okay? I keep hearing crashing. Love ya.”

“Be careful out there. Love you, too.” She warned before hanging up the phone and throwing it on the counter. Maggie quickly burst into full-on tears at this puzzling and nightmare-inducing situation. What if Scott was one of the victims of...whatever the hell was going on? What would she tell Cassie.

You decided to call him again and again and again on your way to the Paxton residence.

Hey, this is Scott. Scott Lang. Leave a message...ka-chow.

“Hey, babe, it’s me again. Listen, we’re all a little bit worried right now because of, you know, people suddenly disappearing and shit. So, uh, gimme a call back. Please. I love you.” You rambled on before hanging up and then called him four more times before arriving. Maggie, Jim, and Cassie were all waiting on the porch as you pulled up, they ran up to you as soon as you parked.

“Y/N, you’re okay!” Cassie latched onto your hips and hugged you as tightly as she could. Maggie and Jim were next, hugging you from either side. But tighter than usual.

“Come inside with us. We need to figure out what’s going on.” Maggie led you in by the arm and all four of you squeezed onto the couch to watch the news update you whenever they could. After hours and hours of viewing the TV, the only information you got was that an intergalactic being had just wiped out half of the world’s population. That you knew of.

“Oh, no.” You covered your face with your hand and tears started to flow down your fingers. Cassie crawled into your lap for comfort, but she needed the comfort, too. As far as anyone was concerned, her father was one of the poor souls that disappeared.

“Y/N?” Jim’s deep voice broke the mourning silence of the room. He had been crying, too, I don’t think any of you would stop tonight. You looked over at him with your wet face and wrapped your arm around Cassie as she leaned on your shoulder. “Would you stay the night here? I think we could all use each other’s company.” Maggie nodded in agreement and Cassie looked up at you, begging with those big brown eyes.

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.” You nodded and looked back at the bright TV lighting up the dark room. No lights had been turned on since you all sat down. No dinner had been made. No one had even gotten up to go to the bathroom. The sun had gone down and the stars were out and despite the dark turn of events, the night still looked so pretty. So for a while, you just stared out the window.

You stayed more than one night. For a few weeks, you slept on the couch. But you stayed for more than a few weeks.

After the snap, you spent exactly one night at your own house before moving in with Maggie and Jim. You felt bad, but they kind of pushed you to do it. You were family, therefore you had to stick together. So you ended up getting your own room and truly being a family. Once things got settled in the world (as much as they could be), you really got into the groove of the roommate life. You took Cassie to school, got groceries, made dinner, took out the trash, signed permission slips, did it all.

“I miss dad.” Cassie mumbled while you drove her to school. You zoned out after you heard her, thinking about the last time you saw him.

You woke up to the smell of waffles, eggs, and oranges. You made your way down the stairs to find your boyfriend making breakfast to OutKast’s Ms. Jackson. Watching him sing and dance with that spatula was adorable to you. Once you caught his eye, he lit up.

“Hey, babe! Look, food!” He pointed at the waffle iron with a grand smile on his face, you walked forward to give him a quick kiss on the lips.

“I see that.” You smiled as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “Any plans for today?”

“Eh, just a couple of personal errands. Shouldn’t take me too long. You?” He asked.

“I think today’s the day I fix the fence you broke.”

“I miss him, too...” You mumbled back and felt Cassie’s hand rest over yours on the steering wheel.

“I’m glad that you’re still here, though. It kind of feels like he’s still with us when you’re around.” She told you, which made you both smile and tear up at the same time. “You’re one of the best step-parents I could ask for. I have to say ‘one of the best’ because Jim is also one of the best. But I mean it. You’re awesome, y/n.”

So that’s the first part, huh? Where’s all the road tripping? Well, I guess this is to be continued, right?

...Right?!

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @rorybutnotgilmore // @locke-writes // @sweetheartliz07 // @queen-destenie // @natasha-danvers // @lokihiddles // @frostedgiantfavs // @emygirl // @lotsoffandomrecs // @johnmurphyisbisexual // @teenwaywardasgardian // @pappydaddy // @captainshazamerica // @freya-xo // @ravenmoore14 // @purpleskiesstorm // @ofthedewthesunlight //

[cutesycadaver]

Pellets

And now my creepypasta parody of Cupcakes (Mlp)

Content warning/violence, torture, Cannibalism, death, twists

After their plan had blown up in their faces, Brain was ready to collapse. He was lying on their sponge bed while Pinky was messing around on a lab computer. “Brain, come look!” He called, He begrudgingly got up from their bed, feeling quite sore. “What is it Pinky?” Brain grumbled “I found this video Reading Cupcakes (creepypasta) it’s about Pinkie Pie! Though cupcakes and haunted spaghetti sounds strange.” Brain looked at the screen, the video showed a cupcake with rainbow frosting “How do you know it’s about Ms. Pie?” Brain already knew Pinky was amazed by the horse he shared a name with but the video didn’t seem to directly state anything regarding her. “Oh, She was on the front but her mane was really straight and flat and her eyes were so small, poit.” Brain was growing suspicious “Pinky don’t you believe this seems...sketchy.” “Maybe but it’s Pinkie, It’s gotta be fun fun silly willy! Let’s watch it together!” Brain was hesitant “Alright” he mainly wanted to be there to turn off if (more like when) it turned sour.

At first it seemed like Pinkie Pie came seeking Rainbow Dash wanting some help making cupcakes, but took a gruesome turn. The problem being both mice were entranced and couldn’t get themselves to stop the video before it was too late. When the video finally ended there was a minute of absolutely nothing. They had wrapped themselves tightly together, both shaking. “B-Brain?” Pinky stuttered, shattering the deafening silence. “Yes, Pinky” Both mice sounded rather dreary “I-I’m s-scared” “I know you are.” Brain couldn’t get himself to admit he was too. “We should get to bed regardless.” The smaller mouse trying to regain his typical demeanor. He broke away from the embrace quickly, standing up. “O-ok, I mean ok, narf” Pinky attempted the same though his narf was far less enthusiastic than it typically was.

The two curled up next to each other, far closer than normal. “Pinkie isn’t really like that is she?” Pinky asked genuinely “Of course not, Pinky, it was just a story. You know Ms. Pie is just like you.” Brain rubbed his companion’s arm in an attempt to comfort him. “Just like me?” “Yes.” Suddenly the fatigue he felt earlier hit him like a truck. “We should sleep Pinky” he yawned “Ok Brain” he sheepishly grinned. Brain’s eyes slipped shut, his last sight was his still quite awake cagemate, seemingly content though.

Brain awoke with a start, though the cage was still quite dark. Now that he thought about it, was he in the cage? He seemed to be suspended upright in the air by ropes tied to his wrists and ankles. His heart began to race, What was happening? Where was he? “Pinky?” He called out, concern flooding his tone. “Oh, you’re awake sleepy head!” A familiar cockney accent giggled calmly “Pinky, you’re ok! Where are we? What’s happening?” Brain couldn’t see anything but Pinky was near, that was good “This is my workshop you silly goose. And your number came up, you get to join the party!” Workshop? Number? Party? Before Brain could voice any of his inquiries the lights flickered on. His eyes couldn’t believe it. There were tables with various painted mouse skulls as centerpieces. Balloons made of livers and kidneys and stomachs were all around . Streamers of intestines lined the top of the walls of the gritty basement Brain was in. “Welcome to the Party, isn’t it fun fun silly willy that I finally get to work with a friend!” Pinky appeared in front of him, donning a fur coat made of squares of, all too familiar, whites, grays and browns. “P-Pinky cease this foolishness at once.” Because that’s all it was, an elaborate prank, a stupid joke. “But I can’t Brain, it’s my job. And a job is a job is a job and I gotta do it, troz.” “What job?” “To turn you into food pellets, Brain.” He paused “Pinky this isn’t funny!” Brain shouted struggling against the restraints. “Well cause it’s not a joke Brain.” Pinky giggled. As Brain moved trying to free himself, he caught eye of a table with various tools typically used by the surgical scientists. It wasn’t a joke.

“Pinky, I-I’m sorry. I-I’ll be better, no more bad names, we’ll play the games that you like...every other night. We’re friends, Pinky, you can’t do this.” He pleaded, whatever would make him change his mind, anything “Brain, I already told you it’s my job” no no he needed more “Pinky I...I” he needed to force the words out, his life did depend on it “Pinky I love you! I always have, please, let me go, I’ll keep quiet, I’ll love you forever. No one will know I promise.” Pinky stood in shock for a moment, then lovingly looked at him “Oh, Brain!” He swooned, he came closer. Brain crashed their lips together in a hopeful deep kiss. “Zounds, Brain! I’ve never gotten a goodbye kiss before. Oh, Thank you it was so sweet. This batch is sure to be good.” Pinky pulled away seeming giddy but Brain’s hope died as his friend spoke. “Pinky...but…” “Aren’t you a smarty Brain, I told you it’s my job, zort.” His gleefully expression drooped. “I don’t make the rules, Brain. I really wish I did but your number came up and those are the rules.” Pinky shrugged “Pinky…” Brain started not entirely sure what he would say “Wait Brain, I just remembered something.” Pinky ran off to another part of the room. Brain’s immediate thought was to think to escape but then if he did what would he do, to hide from Pinky, with the knowledge of this, to cope, with his life.

Pinky was back as soon as he left, hiding his hands behind his back. “Brain guess who’s here to see you?” Pinky asked gleefully, Brain stayed in silent confusion raising an eyebrow “Hey Brain, it’s me Snowball, let’s ditch the dummy and take over the world together.” Pinky said in a poor impression of the hamster. He waved around a skull reminiscent of Brain’s own head. Brain gasped, he and Snowball were enemies but the knowledge he was dead made him sick. “I know he didn’t have a number like everyone else” blue eyes stared into the empty sockets “but when would I be able to try hamster meat again. I remember you liked them, said they were slightly more salty. Troz” Brain remembered the taste so vividly now in utter disgust. At the time the fact that the food pellets seemed to change two days after he defeated Snowball didn’t mean anything. Now it meant everything. This dawned the revelation that he was eating mice on the regular. Nausea took over his senses, Brain wanted to pass out.

Pinky studied the look on Brain’s face, then seemed to snap his attention to the table of tools. “Oh, Brain, We’re getting behind, we should get started.” Brain swallowed hard, he wanted to voice more pleas for escape but couldn’t force the words out. Pinky picked up a scalpel “I should get your fur patch first so it does get all icky and red, narf!” The tick that usually gave Brain mild irritation or silent bliss now sent puncturing fear and disbelief through his veins. Pinky went to his back and, with the scalpel, lightly cut a heart. When he got to be about the full size of his back, he placed the scalpel where he started, pressing further into the flesh. “Nyaaaaaa!” Brain writhed, the cold blade sliced through his back. Pinky traced the heart carefully, cleanly cutting the skin. Blood started to run down from the bottom of the heart. Brain instinctively struggled against the searing pain. “Brain, stop moving, I’ll mess up the cut.” Pinky complained, Brain forced his body to comply, with the hope Pinky might spare him with mild injuries if he behaved. Taking deep breaths to try to slow his heart, even though he knew it wouldn’t do much. Pinky had completely traced his work, setting the scalpel down, he placed a hand at the top of the heart and slowly peeled the flesh from his friend’s back. Brain stiffened, eyes widened, he let out a small squeaky cry, a single tear rolling slowly down his cheek. He forced his eyes closed to prevent more tears. Pinky eyed his work, satisfied with how it came out. He walked around to face Brain and show him the pelt. “Oh Brain it’s perfect! I made yours special, it’s heart shaped. I usually make them squares.” As Brain tried to open his eyes a wave of agony washed over him as the air pushed against the open wound.

Pinky went to place the pelt somewhere else in the room. Brain steadied his breaths trying to ignore the pain. He realized just how out of control of the situation he really was. He pondered the irony of his demise. It was almost funny. Almost. “ I’m back, zort” Pinky greeted, his usual cheery tone felt foreign in Brain’s ears. The lanky mouse went over to the tools, grabbing a simple kitchen knife. “Now for your ziggy-zaggy tail.” Pinky went behind Brain, wrapping a hand directly under the first bend. The contact would be sensual if not for what Brain knew what was coming. Pinky slammed the blade down, creating a red slit at the base of his friend’s tail. Brain writhed as the agony jolted through him. Pinky took a couple more strikes. Lingering on a third to slide the knife through the cut, as he wasn’t making progress. Brain let his tears flow freely, he quite literally had nothing left to lose. Pinky struck the tail again, it did nothing. “Guess I forget to sharpen it.” Pinky dropped the knife on the table. He picked up a hack-saw “Brain, why do they call it a hack-saw, it doesn’t hack, that’s what I was doing with the knife, it’s a saw poit.” Pinky giggled, Brain quietly sobbed. Pinky grabbed the tail again “Pinky?” Brain sniffled “Yes Brain” “I want to go home.” This was pathetic, he was pathetic and he wanted to be alone. “I feel like that sometimes too but I gotta finish a job zort.” He placed the saw in the cut “Oh, Like how we do with your plans, we never really finish but we get as far as we can before we fail.” Pinky pushed the saw, cutting through the flesh. “You know, Brain, I don’t usually keep the tails, but yours is just so special I had to!” Pinky giggled but soon the sound of grinding flesh and bone was the only sound that filled Brain’s ears. Pinky sawed through the appendage until it was only attached by a bit of flesh “Hey Brain, think fast poit!” He didn’t have time to register what Pinky said before his tail was ripped away from his body peeling a long strip of skin from his back with it. Brain couldn’t handle the pain slowly passing out as it surged through him.

Brain felt a small pinch before awareness filled his head. “It’s very rude to fall asleep when your friend is hanging out with you, you know.” Pinky reprimanded “I mean what I fell asleep in the middle of a plan, ‘Sorry Brain, you’re just sooooooooooo boring.’” Brain looked up about to make his own snarky remark before noticing Pinky was chewing on something, flashing a curious look. The lanky mouse took notice. “I needed to try some so I took a sample from your leg. Want some?” Pinky shoved a small piece of meat into the shorter mouse’s mouth. Brain spit out the chunk of his own flesh. He shuddered at the fact it tasted good. “You could have just said no, it’s not like you haven’t eaten the food pellets before.” Pinky said surprisingly curtly. “Ahhhhhh!” Brain finally felt the wound on his thigh, for where the “sample” had been taken. He started to sob as he fully remembered the earlier events. Pinky started to laugh “You really should have seen this coming Brain, it says I’m insane in the intro.” Brain’s expression twisted into a scowl. “Oh you’re cute when you’re angry but for falling asleep, I’ve got a surprise.” Pinky walked away leaving Brain very confused.

He came back with a nail gun. “Pinky...what are you doing?” Brain said, faking his sternness and attempting to swallow his fear. “You’ll see!” Pinky giggled, turning on the power tool. He knelt down to be eye level with Brain feet. He struggled against the restraints once again. “Pinky!” He reprimanded, he was ignored,  the nail gun pressed against his left foot. Brain’s heart sped up, his breath hitched, his fear became known once more. “Please...don’t…” he whimpered weakly, he was ignored again, a nail shot through his foot. “Ahhhhhhhhhh!” The immediate pain of the puncture registered first but it was soon realized that the nail was burning the flesh surrounding it. He was using heated nails. Boiling blood ran off his foot and onto the rope that held it in place. Pinky went to the other foot as Brain writhed. The second nail went in, cauterizing the wound it formed. Fresh tears spilled fast and freely as another scream could be heard, Pinky giggled. He walked away, probably to go get something. Brain heard Pinky’s sadistic laughs, wondering if this really was the adorable goofball he fell in love with.

Pinky walked back towards him, heading towards something behind his tool table, a bundle of wires in hand. Brain couldn’t quite see what he was doing but Pinky appeared to be attaching the wires to something. He walked back in front of him, holding the ends of two wires. “Oh Brain I think you’ll find this next one quite shocking, narf!” he laughed “Pinky please, I’m sorry you...you don’t have to do this.” He pleaded softly, the nails still deliriously painful “You shouldn’t have been such a sleepy head Brain.” Pinky’s tone was casual “Don’t you bop me when I do something stupid?” “I-I thought you liked the bops?” “Oh I do Brain! They feel funny and make me get all…gooshy!” Pinky giggled, his eyes going half lidded and a bit of drool dripping from his mouth. “Don’t you love me, Pinky?” The mouse in question blinked out of his lovesicktrance “Well of course Brain, you’re my best friend!” Pinky hugged him, making all his wounds sting, including the one in his heart “Than why…” “Because! It’s! My! Job! And these are the rules. I know you don’t always get it when I say silly things but this isn’t silly. You tell me I gotta do my job and do it right all the time!” Pinky seemed to grow very angry on a dime, tying the wires to the nails “If you really loved me you wouldn’t do this!” Brain shouted, more pain than actual anger. Pinky walked over to where he before “You need to calm down Brain this might help.” A mischievous gleam in his eyes, he pulled a lever. Suddenly a strong electrical current coursed through Brain’s entire body. His muscles tensed, the pain unbearable and unchanging, the screaming uncontrollable and straining. Brain finally felt his body lost consciousness even though he tried to force himself through theare pain.

Another needle pinch in his abdomen before the awareness and trepidation came flooding back. “I’M SORRY! Pinky, I’m sorry.” Tears filled his eyes, wishing for mercy “Hush, It’s time for the harvest, this part���s my favorite, narf!” Pinky took a scalpel and pressed it deep into Brain’s sternum. The blood trailing down either side of his chest. He pulled the scalpel down his stomach. Pinky giggled at Brain’s screams. Peeling open the flesh to reveal the organs underneath. “Now to separate the good stuff from the bad stuff this is so fun fun silly willy! Like your plans, oh your plans. I’m sorry Brain you never got your world, didn’t you?” The sentiment sounded sincere yet demeaning “Pinky…” teary eyes looked into a sea of horrible sadistic beauty “Pinky you are my world.” Brain said in true defeat. He supposed it made sense that his world would end him. “Oh Brain, you stole my heart.” Pinky looked at his surgical work. He recklessly shoved his arm into his lover's ribs and pulled the aforementioned organ from Brain’s writhing body. “Now I stole yours ha ha ha narf!” With one last breath Brain’s eyes slipped shut.

Brain awoke a start, in bed, he was in bed. Brain was back in the cage, it was morning. He looked beside him, Pinky wasn’t there. “Pinky? PINKY!” panic filled his voice. “You’re awake! Brain? Are you ok?” “Y-you strapped me to a table! I-in a basement with dead mice everywhere! A-and you turned me into food pellets!” He spoke frantically “Brain that’s Rocket to Insanity silly.” “Huh?” “Rocket to Insanity, that’s the one where Rainbow Dash dreamed up Cupcakes and then goes to Pinkie and stabby-stabs her. Wait, you’re

not gonna stab me are you, Brain?” The smaller mouse looked at his friend in relief then processed his question. Without another moment his lips were locked with Pinky’s. “So that’s a no?” “I would never stab you, Pinky.” He stated gently “And you’re an idiot for ever thinking I would.” Brain quipped “There’s my Brain!” Pinky hugged him “I love you Pinky.” If that dream made anything clear it’s that those words needed to be said. “Really Brain?” Blue eyes gleamed hopeful “Yes, Pinky, really.” Pinky pressed their lips together. “I love you too.”

[bookandcranny]

Beatrice - Chapter Five

She sucked on her lower lip and it tasted sweet. Bittersweet really, but any amount of sweetness was good enough for her.

Sprinting up the staircase two at a time, Gianna couldn’t remember why the climb had ever been an obstacle. She burst into her apartment and out of it again, through the window, onto the fire escape. Before she could think to be afraid, she leaped.

If she’d faltered, if she’d slowed for a second before making that jump, she would’ve hit the ledge and, best case scenario, clawed her way up to safety with a shattered pelvis. The worst case scenario was a lot messier and, she decided, not worth thinking about at the moment. 

The important thing was she had made it, barely, and miraculously unbroken too. Unbroken because “unharmed” would’ve been too generous a word for it. She landed badly, twisting her ankle and spilling forward onto hands and knees. It was only thanks to the cradle of some overgrown greenery that she hadn’t cracked her skull open on the fountain while on her belly blindly grasping for leverage.

Maybe it was the headrush of having survived her nigh-suicidal recklessness, but the combined scents of the garden were making her dizzy. The exotic flowers’ natural perfume that had been pleasant at a distance now took on a noxious quality. The air seemed to be choking her. How did Beatrice stand it, she wondered.

Feeling a strange twinge she looked down at her scraped palms and sucked in a sharp breath. The cuts themselves were barely deep enough to draw blood, but beneath the tissue she was bubbling, boiling. She tore her eyes away and blinked hard to dispel the vision. 

Am I awake? Am I dreaming again? Did I miss the ledge?

Her mind screamed at her.

It’s something in the air. It’s something about these damn plants. An infection? An allergy? No, can’t think about it now. There’s no time. Look away, deal with it later.

Thankfully the sliding door was unlocked. Most people don’t expect intruders at five stories up. It opened with a click and Gianna tensed, withholding herself against the urge to rush in, metaphorical guns blazing. She stood there in the doorway and listened for sounds of distress, but it was eerily silent. The luxury apartment was as serene and sterile as she remembered it.

“Bea?” she whispered as she stepped inside. “Beatrice?”

No response. Her own dragging footsteps were loud in the emptiness, scraping along the tile like a murmuring: hush, hush. 

Gianna rounded a corner into the dining room and there she found her, and the mad doctor too. Beatrice was sitting at the table in a white dress with a gauzy quality to it that reminded her, sickly, of a wedding dress. Dr Rappaccini came up behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder before at length turning his sunken eyes towards the uninvited guest.

When he spoke, his voice sounded thick as if speaking around a swelling. “After all these years, you think I don’t recognize the taste of one of my own formulas? I’ve been doing this since before you were born, children.”

“It was only medicine, Father,” Beatrice insisted, looking up at him. “To help you sleep.”

“A long sleep indeed,” he growled. Gianna had no rightful reason to flinch away from the fury of an old, sick, and at least partially drugged old man, she reasoned. There was nothing of him to be so afraid of. But she did, and she was, and deep down she always had been, since the moment she saw him. There was something wrong with him, something she couldn’t put a name to, although if she tried the word “evil” might make an appearance. 

It had been a long time since Gianna had considered herself one among the faithful, the kind of person to buy into such archaic concepts as pure good vs pure evil. She never quite believed in a soul that could be broken down into quantifiable measurements— a half cup of goodness, an even ounce of vice. She couldn’t say from what recipe a man like Dr Rappaccini was formed, but what she saw before her now repulsed her. The layers of him peeled off like old paint and underneath were all the years and all the people who ever imposed their will on her. It didn’t make her feel righteous, it made her feel small and scared. She didn’t want to touch him. She didn’t want to catch what he had.

“This really has gone too far.” He spoke not to her but to Beatrice again. Although he kept her penned within his periphery, Gianna was an insect to him. “What did you think would happen? That you’d run away together? Go off into the sunset and live happily forever after like those books you read? You know better. This is only a passing fancy. She’ll die, and you’ll find another.”

Then he touched her cheek, almost tenderly. For a moment he almost looked like the father he was, or at least pretended to be. Gianna saw him and a younger Beatrice: teaching her, dressing her, holding her, bringing her to life only to take it away.

“Let go of her, she’s coming with me.”

Dr Rappaccini sneered. “Oh by all means. Who am I to get in the way of my daughter’s happiness? But if you two are going to insist on keeping up this charade, I think it’s only right I let you know what you’re getting into.”

The young woman stiffened. “Father, please don’t.”

“Have you been feeling ill lately, Ms Alexander? Been noticing some certain sudden changes?”

Gianna instinctively closed her fists and felt her bloodied palms sting.

“Now now, no need to be embarrassed. I’m a doctor you know.” He wheezed a little laugh to himself. “Have you been having trouble sleeping? Peculiar dreams? Maybe even during the day you find yourself feeling disoriented, seeing things. Do you find yourself feeling breathless or dizzy when you take in the city air? If not, you will. The medicine my daughter so kindly shared with you will be wearing off soon.”

Startled, she turned a questioning glance to Beatrice, but the other woman wouldn’t look at her. She’d told her the tea was medicinal, but it had never occurred to Gianna that she might be more familiar with the ailment than she let on. 

“It’ll only get worse from here, you know. Look at me,” he coughed. “Like the late great Madame Curie, my passions took their toll on me in the end. Though not before affording me a sturdy tolerance for most known and unknown poisons, I’ll have you know. That’s over fifty years of gradual exposure for you. Ah, but you didn’t come here to listen to me talk about work. 

“I’ll get to the point. You can treat the symptoms, but there’s no cure, no release from her poison. Even as we speak it’s tainting your healthy young blood, devouring you from the inside out. If I act fast, you may still live to a ripe old age. You might not even have any lasting side effects, lucky thing! But all this is if I give you the antitoxin, and if you don’t continue to willfully expose yourself to the source.”

“The source? You mean…?”

“Yes! My sweet Beatrice.” He petted her hair with the back of his fingers. “Lovely, isn’t she? Everything I grow… so very lovely. Don’t worry, I’d never do a thing to harm her. Can she say the same about you?”

“Don’t listen to him!” Beatrice stood up suddenly, surprising both Gianna and Rappaccini himself. “I never wanted to hurt you! I don’t want to hurt anyone!”

“But you can’t help it,” said the doctor. “It’s in your nature. It’s in your scent, the touch of your skin. Imagine what she could do with a kiss, Ms Alexander! Oh I almost want to see it. I’m sure it would produce some valuable data. But I’m not the cruel monster you make me out to be. That’s why I tried to stop you, even though my daughter begged me not to spill her secret. I tried to make you understand. 

“She can’t be released upon the world. Maybe in a few generations we’ll have a version that can control her own potency, but not yet. Not you, Beatrice.”

The poison-blooded woman spun on her creator. “Why did you make me! Why did you make me like this! Why bring me into the world at all if I can’t be a part of it! What is the point of being alive if I can’t touch another living thing without hurting them!”

Tears rolled freely down her cheeks, hot and angry. Gianna instinctively reached out to comfort her.

“No, stay away!” she screamed.

Dr Rappaccini took her into his arms. Her tears soaked through the shoulder of his ill-fitting coat and raised his flesh with welts, yet he didn’t flinch. Arrogant gray eyes locked with Gianna’s and the message was clear. No matter how much she loved her, Beatrice belonged to him. She would rather choose an empty life under the heel of a man who could never truly care for her over the risk that she might further harm the one person who did.

Then, a curious thing happened. It started with a gentle rumbling that gradually grew in intensity like the beginnings of an earthquake. Then there was the smell. Beatrice always had a slightly floral scent to her that Gianna had assumed was perfume, but now, like in the garden, it was so overpowering that it seared the nose and throat and muddled the senses. Rappaccini noticed as well and turned to his daughter with a delirious look on his face.

“Girl, what have you done?”

The woman lifted her head. Veins like dark tendrils bulged beneath her skin, wispy strands of violet encroaching at the corners of her eyes like ink in water. A noxious venom bubbled up and spilled over her lower lip. The doctor staggered backwards. Gianna might have followed his lead if she were in her right mind, but as it was she was stricken, mesmerized by her. Even through the confusion and the terror, she wanted to reach for her. Her blood sang out to embrace her.

There was a sound of shattering glass from the terrace and the garden rushed in, spilling over and crashing like a tidal wave, flooding every room it entered with rapidly growing roots and bright green vines. The onslaught of green grew and morphed and stretched and with every pulse of its new buds and branches there was a noise like a muffled human scream.

The slithering stems ignored Gianna, skated right past Beatrice unbothered, and latched onto the form of Dr Rappaccini, pulling taught as they snared him.

“Beatrice!” he cried out, but not in horror or in rage. Oddly enough, though he was alarmed, when he looked into the face of his creation, the creation who would destroy him, his expression was one of absolute wonder.

“How are you doing this, Beatrice? How?”

She looked at him, with her eyes still clouded and the nectar of her ire dripping freely from her lips, and she said, “No.”

Only then did true panic set in for the scientist, for he understood exactly what that no meant. 

Vines began to encircle his torso and pour into his open mouth, choking him, soaking up the living wet warmth of him and pouring in their poisons. They dragged his limp body, barely recognizable now, back out into the garden. They raked him over the shattered remains of the glass door and took him into their soil until no bit of him could be seen under the still earth.

The renowned genius Dr Giacoma Rappaccini died without ever knowing the whole truth of what he had created, without even the parting gift of that understanding, that knowledge he had so fervently sought after. That right had been revoked from him. Even so it could be said that Dr Rappaccini died with some sense of satisfaction. After all, what parent isn’t joyed to see their child finally surpass them?

As the flood of plants retreated so too did the murky discoloration of Beatrice’s eyes and skin, leaving only a faint sheen of laboured sweat. Unthinking Gianna moved towards her but her legs buckled halfway there. Her eyes rolled back and for a moment all the universe narrowed to the feeling of hands carefully lowering her to the floor.

“Oh God, Gianna.”

She blinked and saw Beatrice kneeling over her, felt the warmth of her breath. It occurred to her suddenly that she could very well be about to die. She wasn’t in any pain though. Even the ache from her twisted ankle was gone. If anything, she felt extraordinarily well, for a paralyzed person. The only improvement, she thought foggily, would be if she were able to just move. If she could move it all, if she could speak, then there would be nothing that she couldn’t say, not ever again.

“Gianna, I’m so sorry.” She leaned her head against Gianna’s breastbone and sobbed. “I love you. I love you.”

Gianna’s heart fluttered. In fact, it pounded so hard and so loud that Beatrice head shot back up with surprise. She sniffled and blinked back tears.

“Gi-Gianna? Are you still in there?”

Obviously Gianna couldn’t respond, but she searched her face and must have found an answer in it regardless. 

“If you can hear me… I’m going to try something. It- it might… I don’t want to hurt you. That’s what I was trying to… I don’t, I’ve never been able to control it before, but every time you looked at me I just, just tried to focus on that, on how much I wanted…” She swallowed thickly. “So I’m going to try one more time. One more time, okay? I’ll think about how much I love you, and you think about… well you just think about staying alive and maybe… maybe this time. Maybe it’ll turn out alright this time.”

With that, she closed her eyes and kissed her. It was everything Gianna had dreamed and nothing she had expected. Clumsy and inexperienced, gentle and sweet, and something sort of tingly she had a feeling wasn’t entirely due to attraction or apprehension or any mix thereof. She felt her eyes fall closed and her own lips part slightly to let her in. Too late she registered the sensation of something liquid pooling on her tongue, falling down her throat. She choked, briefly, then reflex kicked in and she swallowed. 

“Gianna?” Beatrice asked nervously.

She pushed herself up on her elbows. “You too,” she croaked. “I love you too. I would’ve told you sooner if I knew.”

“If you knew what?”

“That, that you needed to hear it. Someone should’ve told you sooner. Someone should’ve told you a long time ago how lovable you are.”

As she recovered Gianna touched a finger to her lips and it came away sticky. She sucked on her lower lip and it tasted sweet. Bittersweet really, but any amount of sweetness was good enough for her.

“Not to be the nosy overbearing girlfriend or anything, but what just happened exactly?”

Beatrice sat back on her heels. “I’m not really sure where to start. You’ve probably already figured out that I’m… not entirely human.”

“And all that talk about you being a hybrid and like a poisonous plant wasn’t entirely metaphorical, huh?”

She smiled sadly. “Father was always open with me about what I am. I wanted to be open with you too but part of me was afraid you wouldn’t believe me. The other part was afraid you would.”

A fair assumption. Even having witnessed the ultimate show of her power firsthand, she still had a hard time internalizing it.

The conflict must have been apparent on her face; Beatrice pulled away from her, folding her hands over her lap.

“I’m dangerous, I know. Nothing my father said was a lie, but there were things even he didn’t know about me. When you told me we could run away… you made it sound so simple, you know? It really made me believe I could do it. I really thought I could change. I thought I could be more like you, but instead I think I made you more like me.”

Gianna looked down at her hands. The cuts from earlier had sealed themselves closed, not so much as a scratch remaining.

“I’ve never tried to do that before. I don’t know exactly how it’ll affect you, or how much. You might live to be two hundred now. Or you might start to kill everything you touch.” A noise escaped her that was half laugh, half sob. “But I do know what would’ve happened if I left you like that, in that in-between state. Maybe it’s selfish of me. Father said it was. He told me if I cared for you at all I should send you away before it was too late, but I just…”

Gianna touched her. She shivered. “You never would’ve been able to scare me off anyway. I’m too stubborn for that.”

Beatrice sighed, sinking into her touch like she was a warm bed on a freezing cold night.

“So, what now?” Gianna asked at length, though she was reluctant to think of anything beyond this moment. This, all that she’d discovered, it did change things. Just not the things that mattered. Not as far as she was concerned, at least. “I mean, I guess we don’t have to leave now, but you do have a body in your garden so…”

“No. I want to. I want to leave.”

“Then we will,” said Gianna. “I just need to make a call first.”

-----

Petra pulled up to the curb outside a street she had intended never to visit again and opened the door with a glare.

“Gianna. I see you’re still alive despite ignoring every single warning I tried to give you.”

Before Gianna could respond she got up and pulled her into a clumsy hug.

“Crazy girl,” she muttered affectionately.

For half a second Gianna relaxed into the hug, before she remembered herself and pulled back with a gasp.

“What’s wrong?”

No blisters or rashes forming spontaneously on her skin. No sign of any adverse reaction at all. Her shoulders sagged with relief. It seemed she hadn’t absorbed Beatrice’s more overtly toxic qualities along with her immunity. Or, not yet at least.

The thought had been nagging at the back of her mind, that more traits might yet blossom down the line. Even Beatrice, by her own account, hadn’t been born with many of her abilities but rather had grown into them throughout her childhood and into the early years of adolescence. 

And I thought puberty was bad enough as it is.

“Nothing,” she replied at length. “I’m just a little sore.”

She had explained the situation to the best of her ability over the phone, but had omitted more a number of key details. Some things she withheld with purpose, some because she felt it wasn’t her story to tell, some simply because she couldn’t find the words. 

To Petra’s knowledge, Gianna had made plans to run away with Rappaccini’s daughter and when the man refused her, had broken into his apartment. This led to a struggle which resulted in his accidental death. All technically true. The details she chose to keep vague for the time being, until she could be certain the professor was on their side, although she had a sneaking suspicion she knew more than she let on anyway.

Petra looked from Gianna to the visibly shaken young woman who was clinging to her side. “Who did him in?”

“I did,” said Gianna without a thought. She’d been mentally rehearsing her story while they waited. “He found out about me and Bea and made it very clear that he was willing to kill us both to stop it from happening. I freaked out and pushed him, and he fell. He was old and frail. It was an accident.”

She nodded along with the tale but her thoughts were plainly elsewhere. Gianna got the impression she didn’t entirely believe her. That was fine, as long as she didn’t press.

“Where is he?”

She let go of the breath she’d been holding. That, she could answer definitively. “In the garden. Under it, I guess.”

Another nod. “It’ll do. He was a shut-in; I doubt anyone will come looking for him. I assume anyone who knew him well enough also would know better than to investigate his disappearance too closely. I’ll keep an eye on things, just in case.”

It probably should’ve bothered Gianna how nonchalant she appeared about a former colleague’s murder, even one she had a bad history with. But truthfully she was just grateful Petra had agreed to all of this so easily. She had no desire to look too closely at her motivations.

Petra reached into her pocket and handed Gianna a slip of paper with an address written on it.

“My summer home,” she explained. “You can lay low there for a while.”

“Petra… thank you.”

“Thank you. You’ve done me the service of taking care of something I should have a long time ago. Maybe once the good doctor’s research is in ashes I’ll finally be able to sleep through the night.”

She said it lightly, but there was a grave seriousness in her eyes.

“Please, not the garden,” Beatrice said softly. She’d spoken little since they’d left the apartment and it was no wonder why. The gravity of her actions was now beginning to sink in, and that combined with leaving the safety and familiarity of her home for the first time in her life had put her in a state of shock. 

She never would truly regret laying Dr Rappaccini to rest, but the world did feel like a very different place without him in it.

“Is there any way you could get the plants to us once we’re there?”

“I’ll do my best, I can promise you that much.” She looked Beatrice up and down, really taking her in for the first time. “So you’re the ‘daughter.’”

“I am. I was.”

Dr Bagnol flexed her fingers around the handle of her cane, quietly contemplative. For the first time that Gianna had ever seen, she was unsure of what to say. “Did you ever… The other experiments, did they…?”

Beatrice inclined her head. Thankfully she needed no elaboration. “My father told me some. He said there were others before me, my sisters, but that they were imperfect and didn’t survive more than a few weeks. Your name’s Dr Bagnol, isn’t it? He spoke about you too, once or twice I think. It didn’t mean anything to me at the time.” She hesitated. “They’re happy now, if it helps. I never met them while they were alive but they talk to me through the flowers, though I can’t always understand them. My father didn’t believe me when I told him. There were a lot of things he didn’t believe in.”

The woman hummed in acknowledgment. “It’s a pretty unbelievable story. But I’ve dared to put my faith in plenty of strange ideas and often I’ve been right. For better or for worse.”

Petra gestured to the open car door and handed Gianna the keys. 

“You’d better get moving.”

“You’re not coming?”

“I’ve got things to take care of here, the sooner the better. Don’t worry about the car. It’s the least I can do.” Her gaze lingered on Beatrice. “I’ve missed a lot of birthdays.”

They packed their bags into the trunk and Gianna settled into the driver’s seat. Catching the other’s anxious look she assured her, “We’ll go slow.”

“You may not have that luxury,” Petra said with the certainty of someone who had made her own share of narrow escapes. She rapped her knuckles on the hood of the car. “Go now and don’t stop until you’re across the state line.”

Nodding grimly Gianna spared one last look to the older woman: her co-conspirator, her mentor, her friend. “Thank you.”

They drove, and little by little New York retreated in the rear view until it blipped out of existence, a vanishing dream. Gianna would’ve liked to say she was sorry to leave it behind but in reality, the city wasn’t her home. It wasn’t her tiny apartment with the glitchy kitchen light and plastered over vintage moulding, nor even the house in the suburbs where her parents still lived, blissfully unaware of their daughter’s doings. 

To her, home was an ephemeral thing, the stops on the way to a destination that was always changing. Beatrice on the other hand had only known one home all her life, one which may never exist for her again, at least not in the same way it had. 

Yet when Gianna dropped one hand from the wheel and reached for her, she slotted her fingers between hers with no hesitation, only a trembling sigh as she continued to familiarize herself with the skin-to-skin contact. That too, Gianna thought, could be home. If nothing else, she could try and make it one for her.

A few hours passed with fewer words spoken between them. Sometimes she would ask Beatrice if she was hungry or feeling motion sick or if she wanted to try lying down in the back to get some rest, and each time she would answer with a polite shake of the head. The night settled over them like a deep blue linen, too gentle and frail to risk tearing with clumsy words.

The quiet wasn’t a bother to either of them. If talk is cheap then the clasping of hands and the soft kisses pressed to wrists and knuckles was a language that had cost them dearly.

Nearing their destination, Gianna pulled onto a sideroad that took them from asphalt to dirt and gravel to nothing as it came to an abrupt dead end. There was no house or even any helpful landmarks to be found, just grass and trees, so they parked the car to have a look around while Gianna fiddled with the GPS.

Beatrice stepped out into the field and filled her lungs, cautiously at first, and then in deep lusty breaths like a drowning body coming up for air. She shucked off her shoes and hiked up her dress to let the wild grass brush against her legs. The new plantlife turned brittle and curled away from her touch but she didn’t mind.

Gianna turned to find her partner lying in the middle of the field, heels digging into the dirt like she was trying to put down roots, and laughing giddily. The unrestrained, childlike joy on her face was contagious and Gianna soon found herself giggling as well.

“Having fun?” 

“Oh it’s so weird,” she hiccuped. “There aren’t any walls. There aren’t even any buildings. It just goes on and on forever.”

She sat down in the grass next to her. “It’s not too overwhelming?”

“It is, but in a good way. It’s so… so much more than I thought it would be from books and pictures. It feels like a dream.”

“Describe it to me,” she said.

Beatrice sat herself upright and curled into Gianna’s embrace.

“It’s not the same as being in my garden. These plants don’t speak to me, and I can feel them but I don’t know them, if that makes any sense. You can’t feel them at all, can you?”

“No. Whatever you gave me… I don’t know, maybe it just doesn’t work that way.”

She tried not to look disappointed. Being able to touch, to be beside one another like this and not have to worry should have been enough. It was enough. But Gianna was beginning to understand that Beatrice’s loneliness was a vein that ran deeper than the more obvious isolation she experienced. 

As Dr Rappaccini himself had alluded to, she was one of a kind. To Gianna, that just made her all the more amazing, but to Beatrice it was a curse. More than anything, maybe more than to be loved, she longed to be understood. 

“Wish your superpowers could help us find this stupid house,” Gianna remarked.

Beatrice perked up. “Actually, I think it’s just on the other side of those trees.”

“Are you serious?”

“I don’t really know how to explain it but there’s this absence. Like, a blank space. Things are growing around it but in that space,” She made the shape of a square with her hands. “Nothing.”

Gianna stood up and brushed herself off. “Well let’s take a look then.”

Sure enough, the path picked up again on the other side of a small thicket and led them to the house-- more of a cabin really. Although the outside was just as overgrown from the years of neglect, aside from some dust and cobwebs the interior was remarkably well preserved. In a closet they found a broom and dustpan, some rags, and a bottle with an inch or so of cleaner still swishing around at the bottom. They also happened upon spare linens and an abandoned down comforter that had been tucked aside for a rare chilly day, blessedly free of grime. 

The weather was still plenty warm so they opened all the windows and aired out the rooms and when Gianna was confident no spiders would crawl into her mouth while they were sleeping, she bid Beatrice join her under the duvet. There they dreamed with nothing but that big comforter between them and the night air. That was how they stayed until the morning.

For weeks they lived like this, playacting the roles of the two happy honeymooners. They got up, worked on cleaning up the house, cooked, ate, went to bed, and occasionally slept. It was a strange dance, one whose steps they made up as they went along. And sometimes they fell out of step. 

Gianna had to go into town sometimes, to walk in the all too human places Beatrice still feared to tread and come back with supplies and dinner and a new book for her to read. It was nice, Beatrice thought, to be cared for in little ways like that, but though she gratefully accepted the gifts they also tended to remind her that when it came down to it, not very much had changed.

Her dictatorial father was gone, but so was her garden, her petaled elder sisters whom she cared for and cared for her in turn. The doors were all unlocked now, but many days she found herself lurking in the thresholds listening for the sound of tires crunching on leaflitter. In those interrums, she was as alone as she’d ever been.

When Gianna was there though, all was lovely. She gave her things she never imagined she would have-- at least not so freely, certainly not multiple times in one night. But in the wake of her affection a sick fretful feeling would open up like a chasm in her chest, taunting her as it ripped her in two, “Don’t you know how to be alive without trailing at someone’s heel?”

Its presence, this nebulous worry, dogged her day by day. In the small hours, while her girlfriend slept, Beatrice lay awake trying to trace the shape of this shadow that darkened the edges of her newfound happiness. 

“Bea? You okay?”

She was standing outside in the grass, near the woods that surrounded the cabin. She liked to be here. Wandering too far made her nervous so she had to devise more creative ways to explore the world that was now open to her. Often she came here to test the reach of her awareness, feeling her way through the landscape as if with a phantom limb. 

However Gianna found it a little unnerving to watch her girlfriend standing and staring into space for hours on end and typically only joined her when it had been long enough for her to get worried.

Beatrice blinked and rolled her neck experimentally. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

She put a hand on her shoulder. “Dinner’s ready.”

They twined their arms together as they walked the beaten path back to the house. It was times like this that she felt she could forget her concerns and just enjoy the present moment. Whatever came next, she wanted to have as many moments like that as she could.

--

next chapter

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Ghost

“Temperature up to 37 degrees Celsius. Heart rate is increasing. Brain activity stable.”

Tom Allman heard voices calling him awake. The last thing he remembered was pain, large projectiles hitting him at a thousand miles an hour. Each one felt like it would shatter his whole body. He remembered Ru’Yi’s voice screaming.

“Dragon blood ratio steady… no… rising.”

“Ms. Chu. What do we do?”

Tom’s eyes fluttered open. Chu. “Ru’Yi?”

“Wait.” A pair of familiar brown eyes stared down at him. “Tom… can you hear me? I know you’re still in there. I’m afraid this might be the last time we get to talk.”

His vision cleared. The face he saw was not Ru’Yi, but vaguely familiar to her. The confusion and his brain fog helped him ignore the insistence of his rising heart rate.

“I can’t give you any more of the current serum. It won’t work on you and there are others that might need it. I don’t have time to explain a lot. Your dragonblood purity is far over threshold. We suppressed it, but… it only created a rubberbanding effect. The more we suppressed it, the more it bounced back. You’re not the only one this has happened to.”

She was speaking quickly and calmly, but his heart was still beating like it wanted to escape his chest. He started to feel panicked. Bubbles floated up in front of his face.

“This next treatment is experimental. It’s your last chance. I want your consent. Can I treat you, Tom?”

His eyes roamed the room. All around him were tanks of people in various stages of dragon blood evolution floating in glass coffins of clear water. They had fangs jutting out from their upper jaws, some had horns sticking up through their hair.

“Yes or no.”

“Is she okay? Did I hurt her?” His hands pressed against the glass. They were covered in scales. Claws jutted from the gnarled knuckles. “Help! Help me! Please!”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” The woman nodded to another standing next to her.

The second woman looked at him with a cold blue eyed gaze. She looked no older than a high school student. She reached up and started pushing some buttons on a panel.

“What is she doing?”

“I can’t suppress your dragon blood. All I can do is let it do its thing. All I can do is separate you from it.” 

“Who are you?”

He looked into her eyes. She reached up and pressed on the glass on the other side of his hand. “I… am Ru’Yi’s mother. I had hoped… it wouldn’t come to this.”

A tear slipped from her eye to her cheek.

“The serum is a go.” The other girl looked up at her. “He’s the last volunteer.”

Ru’Yi’s mother nodded and then she walked away. Tom craned his neck to see but she was out of view.

“I will break down the procedure from here.” Said the cold eyed girl. 

“W..what’s your name?”

“I’ll tell you if you survive.” She picked up a clipboard and looked at it. Unlike Ru’Yi’s mother, her eyes held no emotion at all. 

“What?!” He felt a strong vibration and he was suddenly moving, being wheeled away from where he was held. “Am I going to die?”

“That will be up to you.” She said. “You are more than half dragon and your dragonblood mutations are proliferating. But you’re still Tom, even now. That makes it more … your choice.”

“I hear… I hear whispers.”

There was no one there to comfort him. He wanted to cry, but any tears he shed mixed with the water he was in. She walked forward and looked into a small black lens. The lens emitted a laser across the contours of her face. The doors slid open to another room, a larger one, with a dozen other tanks just like his.

Those inside them turned to face him, their hair floating in the water, their mouths covered by rebreathers, many with scales for skin.

Zero stood to face them all. “There’s no easy way to say this. You’ve reached the end of the line. You’ll be injected in the next few seconds. Within those seconds, you will try to kill me. If you get control of yourselves and stop attacking, then you will move to the next stage. If not…”

Zero casually lifted a blade from her back. There was nothing fancy about it. It was short, flat and to the point, just like the one who wielded it.  “..Then I will kill you.”

“Now, brace yourselves. This will hurt.”

There was a sharp hiss, an electronic buzz and the sharp pinch of the needles that turned into a dull unbearable ache. He slammed against the glass, screaming. His vision went white.

In another moment, his eyes were open again and he saw Zero, heard her, smelled her. The pain from the injection still throbbed but even as he stood the wounds began to close themselves. He turned and looked. The glass container he had been locked in was shattered.

He was aware of others like himself too…

One let out a piercing shriek and leaped at her, but by the time it landed, Zero was no longer there. In the blink of an eye, she escaped, sword still drawn. She landed, as light as a dancer.

She turned and looked at him. She smelled like dragonblood. It was intoxicating. He felt drawn to it, as though it were a fire in a dark, cold place.

The one that attacked first was looking under her claws. She was naked, a long ebony tail coiled behind her legs. She turned her hands palm up in shock that she had missed somehow.

The others crawled forward to ring Zero. Zero stood still, eyes roaming the room.

As though by some unknown cue, they all attacked at once. Zero took a few more leaps back, crouched and, in a blinding flash, took off the first attacker’s head. It dropped to the ground like a stone, rolling, spraying blood.

She kept her crouch, moving in a slow circle, blade up and running red. The beasts followed her, their eyes intent and hungry, but now doubly cautious.

One darted to the side to try to go around and attack from behind. Zero’s whirled and the beast caught her sword between its teeth. The blade scraped out from between those teeth, sending out sparks. The monster squealed with pain and its tongue flopped onto the ground, twitching.

Zero shifted her weight to the other foot to face her next attacker, and threw all of it into a powerful thrust, piercing its chest. It fell back and she followed it over, landing on its body and yanking the blade out like Arthur pulling Excalibur out of a stone. She stood on her fallen enemy, cold and regal, daring the others to try something similar. The floor was painted red and so was she.

She was so close. Tom could feel himself tremble but he couldn’t feel the drool escaping his mouth. Every time she looked away from him, he wanted to pounce. His jaw worked, imagining those delicate bones crunching between his teeth. He knew this feeling because he’d felt it before. When… where?”

The images flashed through his head. The limp bodies of his parents in the front seat of the car. The feeling as his jaws closed on the pale flesh of his mother’s arm. It resisted his bite force for just a moment before it splintered. Then, a blinding pair of headlights, rushing towards them.

Denial rushed in on him. That wasn’t what happened. No, there was a car crash. It was a car crash! He staggered away from Zero.

He told himself it wasn’t true. His parents were dead after the car hit them, not before! The police. They kept asking him what happened. The car hit them.

The car hit them.

Tom collided against the wall, clutching his head. “I’m not a monster…”

The same car that hit his parents… hit his sister. She pushed him out of the way. It was the same car…

The image of Ru’Yi lying helpless on the floor flashed in his mind. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry Ru’Yi.”

A voice, like a low snarl, began to overwhelm his senses. They were his thoughts but somehow they weren’t his thoughts. He could see the memories in his mind as clear as day. He recalled holding his sister’s body in the middle of a dark street. The police asked him what happened.

It was a car, he said.

The voice in his head echoed immediately. 

It wasn’t a car. 

Someone inside him who remembered the truth. His sister pushed him down because she was angry at him. He lashed out. He grabbed her by her ear. He tore it off.

He felt like he was standing in front of the mirror but that the reflection wasn’t him.

But it was him. He pushed Ru’Yi down. He attacked his sister. He attacked his parents.

Tom felt like he was waking from a dream. Every muscle in his body ached. The room stank of dragon blood. Zero stood over him. Behind her, all of the other test subjects lay dead or dying.

“You’ve passed.”

“There’s someone in me…” His voice trembled.

“Yes. But it’s leashed. Can you stand?”

“Stay away! I might hurt you!” He backed away and then he realized that his skin was pink, the claws were starting to recede.

“The fact that you can even say that is proof enough that you’re not dangerous.” She was still like a robot waiting for its next input from the user.  “We just need to monitor you for a bit longer. Just to be safe.”

“We?”

The door opened and a woman entered, her long sandalwood hair waved down her back. Her crimson eyes looked at him, not at all bothered by the fact that he was naked and the room looked like a warzone.

Zero finally reached down and hauled him to his feet. 

The woman held a clipboard in her thin arms. She wrote on it and then held it up. 

“Follow me. I’ll show you to your room! ^_^”

[silentexplorer18]

Hey, how’s it going? Could you please write a Kol Mikaelson blurb from the angsty prompts using no. 2, 12, 18 and 31? Thanks in advance✨

Hi there!  Thank you so much for sending in a blurb request!  I’m so sorry it took me so long to get to it.  I’m doing okay, the stress of the world is starting to get to me a bit more than usual, but I’m trying hard to keep my spirits up on here.

I honestly have no idea what possessed me with this.  I just started clacking away at my computer and this is what came out.  I hope you like it!

Click here to read on AO3.

Kol was never one to shy away from his wants.  When he wanted something, he took it, family, friends, and enemies be damned.  But in all his years of walking the Earth, wandering from continent to continent in search of fleeting entertainments, he never anticipated encountering you.

You standing in the honey blond field, head thrown back as you laughed at his joke.

You leading him through the Farmers’ Market, eyes falling closed as you sniffed Ms. Schumer’s flowers.

You dancing on the steps of your meager home, hand outstretched for his own.

You kissing his cheek each night, bashfully forward, as he departed for the lavish house he’d rented for the season.

You bounding up to him, grin sunnier than the morning sky as you asked, “What would Mister Mikaelson like for breakfast this fine morning?”

You in all your simply charming glory.

Just you.

He’d never been particularly weak for a human before, but you lived and breathed a radiance he’d never seen in all his lifetime.  As risky as it was to fall for you, he couldn’t seem to avoid it.

His brothers would have been furious; Mikaelsons did not choose weaknesses.  However, your hand slipping into his own, wistful smile teasing your lips, pushed away his worries as quickly as they’d come.

You never knew that you were encouraging him, silently, selflessly, but you were.  And that made Kol stay when he could have raced for the hills, should have raced for the hills.  Because what human as pure as yourself could ever love someone as dark as him.

He knew he was loving on precious time, walking a tightrope before you pushed him away, but he was selfish, and you were worth being selfish over.

Besides, how could he even think of leaving when you squeezed his hand one evening, wandering with him through the sunflower fields as the golden sunset cast a glow over your warm smile.  “You know, I could marry you one day,” you whispered softly.  That was all that was said, but he knew, he just knew, he was standing on a sinking ship.  His secret was dangerous, and this was only meant to be a summer fling until he’d desperately fallen for your sweet demeanor and kind smile.  He couldn’t just walk away, hurt you.  He had to let you hurt him.

“There’s something I need to show you,” he whispered a few nights later, the last official week of the summer, scraping his toe against the flaking paint of the house he’d rented.  It was nice, nothing as nice as some of the other places he’d rented over the years, but you’d been mesmerized by it all the same.  It was endearing watching you fawn over the building, eyes growing sorrowful as you realized how lonely he must be living all by himself.  But you weren’t looking so endearing anymore, eyes wide and curious as you waited for him to continue.

The porch light was flickering and the moths were beating against the bulbs in a chaotic pulse.  He could’ve turned back, said something else, but he could only delay the inevitable for so long.  After decades on earth, he felt like a frightened child again, young and frightened by whatever future awaited him.

“I’m a vampire,” he said, cringing how loud it sounded against the backdrop of chirping bugs and croaking frogs.

“What?”  You were staring at him like he’d gone crazy, stance shifting to something distinctly more guarded.  He could’ve killed you in an instant, but he didn’t bother saying that.  He’d never hurt you.

“I’m a vampire,” he muttered again.  He’d need to prove it for you to believe him, that much was obvious.  Focusing on the thought of you, of how sweet you must taste below the surface of your skin, he felt his face shift, the veins below his eyes darkening, the length of his fangs extending.  He opened his eyes, jet-black gaze falling on your alarmed features.  Hating the look of fear on your face, he stepped forward, regretting the action as soon as he’d done it.  You flinched, horror washing across your features as he turned away.  That would be the last expression he saw on your precious face as he shoved through the screen door, rushing up the steps to the empty room in the attic he could destroy without remorse.

Falling in a heap on the floor, he stared out the window, moonlight washing his features as he cried hot tears, loathing himself for being such a monster.  This whole thing was only meant to be a summer fling, he reminded himself, heart breaking at the thought of leaving you behind.  But that’s what you deserved.  He was a curse you didn’t deserve cast upon you, not in the long run.  He hiccuped, wiping snot on his sleeve as he realized all the ways it could never work with you.

Until he could suddenly hear you walking up the stairs, “Kol, honey, please don’t hide from me.”

And he was crying again, sobbing despite the strong front he wanted to put on as your hands fell against his cheeks and traced comforting patterns on his shoulders.  “I can’t breathe,” he whispered.

“Then I’ll breathe with you.”

When his crying had subsided, the fear in his heart tingled to life again, flaming across his ribs as he realized how selfish it was to want you, how badly he needed to let you go.

You were kneeling in front of him, eyes soft but unsure as you watched him recover, hands slipping from his shoulders to just barely graze against his knees.

“I know that you’re scared,” Kol hissed, gaze falling to the fluttering pulse point in your neck.  “I can hear your heart beating.  You’re afraid.”

“Of course I’m scared.”  You shifted into a more comfortable position, back resting against the opposing wall a few feet away, hands still reaching out to barely touch his own.  “Everything I’ve ever known is crashing down around me.  The love of my life is a vampire.  I—” she laughed a disbelieving laugh, “I don’t exactly know what to do now.”

His look was skeptical.  Maybe they were both going crazy.  “You know what to do next.  You hate me for wasting your time.  You yell, you cry, you move on—”

“I could never hate you, Kol,” you sighed, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.  “I just don’t know where to go from here.  I thought you were the love of my life.  My one, limited life.  Forever or never is a lot to take in.”

“I don’t want you forever,” he whispered.  It was the most convincing lie he’d told her yet.

She rested her head against the wall as the crickets chirped and the moon filtered through the stagnant leaves and the world seemed to swallow his perfect summer whole.  “My forever or yours?”

[peterstanslizzie]

Re-watching Lizzie Mcguire: Episode 2.8 (Inner Beauty)

Miranda and Lizzie making detention fun

- Gordo wants to expand his filmmaking repertoire and so, he wants to shoot his own music video for the song, ‘Us Against The World’ by Play, starring his best friends, Lizzie and Miranda whom are both practicing their dance moves in Lizzie’s living room:

“Britney, Britney, Janet and J Lo” vs “ Brtiney, Janet, Janet...”

- The both of them then take a snack break to which Gordo get all concerned about because he thinks they’re not taking his new venture seriously. Relax Gordo, there’s nothing wrong with taking a break lol. 

- In school the next day, we see Miranda being upset about getting a B on a recent Science test. She basically feels like she’s coming up short, which I can totally relate. 

- To make matters worse, she now thinks she’s fat after looking at the stills Gordo took of them from rehearsals the other day. It’s sad to see her nitpick every single body part on that photo. Anyways, it’s pretty clear what direction this episode is going to take and what issues that are going to be tackled, which are body dysmorphia and eating disorders. I definitely have my own personal opinions regarding how Miranda’s storyline was handled in this episode but I’ll save it for the ‘Overall Thoughts’ section. 

- Lizzie and Gordo are clearly shocked to hear how negatively Miranda views herself and she also declares to them that she’s going on a diet. 

Crash Diet Woes

- At lunch, Gordo notices that Miranda isn’t having anything to eat. Miranda gives the excuse that she had a very heavy breakfast in the morning. Even after Lizzie tries to offer her some of her own lunch, she strangely acts like she just got a paper cut and has to go to the bathroom to run her finger over cold water. Girl, we know you’re not a good actress...stop it! 

- After leaving in a hurry, both Lizzie and Gordo are even more concerned now because it’s obvious that Miranda is forcing herself to go on a strict diet. Lizzie even points out that Miranda is not that kind of person to starve herself like that.  

-  After school, Lizzie and Miranda are going through another practice session and this time around, they’re showing their moves in front of Lizzie’s mom, Jo. Jo is super impressed with the girls and asks Gordo if she can be in his MV (music video) too. but he kind of indirectly shot her down lol. But worst of all, she was trying to act all cool despite being disappointed about being turned down:

Her face here definitely does not read “I’m kidding” lmao

- Anyways, throughout the rehearsal, it’s very apparent that Miranda is starting to feel woozy based on her facial expressions. Despite this, she still insists that she and Lizzie continue practicing. Big mistake here because a few seconds into their next run-through, she becomes lightheaded and drops to the floor. They all rush over to help her up and they ask her what’s up. Miranda lies again and says she had a really heavy lunch when she definitely did not. Lizzie is definitely concerned about her best friend’s wellbeing. 

Defensive Miranda

- Some time after Miranda’s fainting spell, Lizzie and Gordo are discussing what they should say or do with regards to Miranda’s problem. Well, it’s mostly Gordo who’s talking because he’s not giving Lizzie any chance to give her two cents. But I got to say this; It’s unfortunate that Gordo thinks that just because Miranda is a girl, he feels like he can’t talk to her about the issues she’s facing with her body image. As her best friend, I feel like he should at least hear out what's going through her mind. But again, I need to remember that Gordo is just a teenage boy and he can’t help but to feel awkward in this type of circumstance.

-  Next, we see Lizzie at the mall with Miranda to shop for new outfits for their upcoming MV shoot. As I’ve predicted, Miranda feels dejected going through the rack of clothes she thinks she won’t look good in. Lizzie tries putting things into perspective with Miranda but she just gives off this nasty and defensive attitude towards Lizzie.

Again, what’s with the attitude?

- Lizzie decides to come clean and be honest with her best friend by saying that she’s making a bad decision by going on all these crazy fasts. I generally feel like what Lizzie said to Miranda was appropriate, especially after reminding her that they’re best friends and she should feel comfortable being able to open up to her. 

- Miranda is just not having it with Lizzie and says something really passive aggressive and in the end, she just storms off. I feel like being Miranda’s friend is exhausting at times. 

- At home, Lizzie is feeling down about what just happened and she explains to her mom about the problems she’s facing without revealing Miranda’s identity. Poor Jo first thought that her own daughter was the one with body image issues. Also, who is Lizzie fooling when she tells Jo that she’s talking about a friend? It’s pretty clear that this friend she’s referring to is Miranda lol. Well, at least to me it would have been obvious.

-  Well, Jo is just as shocked to find out that the person is actually Miranda and she freaks out about it some more after connecting this to the fainting incident in their living room a few days ago. Luckily, she calms down and tells Lizzie that if the situation doesn’t improve in a few days, she will have a sit down with  both Miranda herself and with Miranda’s mom. Daniela. 

Opening Up

- It’s the day of the actual music video shoot and Miranda surprisingly shows up. Gordo tries apologizing to her for the comment he made about her eating too much but Ms. Sanchez is still upset at him for who knows why. Lizzie then steps in and apologizes to her for butting into her life and her issues at the mall.  But she also tells her that she’s very concerned about her wellbeing and it’s actually scaring her. Aww poor baby.

- In my opinion, I feel like Lizzie doesn’t have to explain her concern over Miranda. I think it’s very obvious that Lizzie only has good intentions. But I guess sometimes it’s good to break it down to the other person who is going through the motions. Fortunately for all three of them, Miranda opens up to them about all the issues she’s facing at school and the pressure she feels coming from her parents regarding what she wants to do in the future. 

- Because of the overwhelming pressure she’s facing, she feels like she needs something in her life that she is able control, which are her eating habits. I think this is a very common feeling to have amongst people who suffer from eating disorders or body dysmorphia. And I like how Miranda explains that it’s something that she really feels deep within even though it doesn’t make sense on paper. It’s just how our brain works really. 

I wonder if that look Miranda is giving to Gordo is a good one or a bad one lol

- Lizzie explains to Miranda that she relates to her struggles as well because she too, feels pressure to fit in. Even Gordo shares the same feeling for being non-muscular and probably short lol. She then reassures Miranda that being her best friends means that they will support her through this no matter what.  And  in the end, Miranda thanks them for having her back. I'm glad she came around lol.

Rock those flips Hilary!

The teacher definitely has some moves of his own too!

- The episode ends with our favorite trio watching the fully-shot iconic MV of Miranda and Lizzie dancing incredibly and looking amazing together at the same time. But most importantly, they look healthy and happy.

Miranda is definitely feeling herself in this music video

B-Plot: Matt’s 5687th Career, An Artist 

The resemblance is uncanny

- In this episode, Matt’s storyline centers around him being an artist, to which his school apparently thinks he’s a very talented one at that. They notify Jo about his ‘newfound talent’ and she wants to nurture that in him. I can already tell this whole plot is going to be campy. At least Sam is questioning this whole thing:

“Sensitive? Matt eats mud!”. ICONIC

-  We then see Matt creating a portrait of Lanny in the backyard using the splatter paint technique, if I’m not mistaken. As expected, he makes a mess outside because he got his paint all over the patio, the plants and even Lanny himself. I don’t get why Jo is encouraging this given all the shenanigans he  pursued in majority of the past episodes. But most of all, I wonder who is the teacher at his school who thinks he has this talent? I could be wrong though; He might actually have a gift....

- Later, they decide to take Matt’s work outside and both Matt and Lanny are now going through pieces of junk outside to see what can be used for his next masterpiece. I smell disaster in the horizons for sure.

- And I was right! The Mcguire home is ridden with all the trash Matt and Lanny brought home with them from the junkyard.  Jo and Sam sees this and they are just shocked. But I’m very surprised to see that Jo is still trying to encourage Matt. I thought she would put her foot down by now. 

OK. This should be the trigger lol

- Matt pretty much butchered poor Sam’s car. Jo finally sees that Matt has crossed the line (when she should have reeled him in days ago) and tells him to stick to creating art on paper. This boy needs to be restricted, which come to think of it...it’s not really an appropriate word to use given the main storyline of this episode but I’ll just leave it at that lol.

Overall Thoughts

- I feel like this is the first episode of Lizzie Mcguire so far that dealt with a very serious topic, apart from maybe the bullying situation Matt was facing in the season 1 episode, ‘Sibling Bonds’. Episodes like this one really stood out to me over the years till today because it was mainly on an issue a main character was facing both physically and internally.  And it had nothing to do with relationship drama or girl drama. So naturally, the episode was very memorable.

- In terms of the execution of Miranda’s eating disorder storyline, I had issues with it but I also have some positives to say. Let’s start with the negatives; I just feel like the show kind of made it seem that Miranda’s body image issues went away within a week of it popping up. You can see by the end, Miranda was happy with how she looked in the music video. In fact, she was even praising herself. And that’s just not the reality of most people’s struggles with ED and body dysmorphia. These things just don’t go away so quickly. That being said, I definitely don’t think Miranda had an eating disorder based on what I’ve seen in this episode. But because things are shown through the lens of a children’s TV show camera, things might not appear to be so clear cut. 

- But I could view them having showed the viewers that Lizzie and Gordo having Miranda’s back no matter what means that they will continue to be there for her in case the issues she’s facing do come back. Moreover, I wish that the show would’ve added a separate conversation between Miranda and her mom or at least show Jo talking to Miranda because I think including adults in this would add more seriousness to the situation. Again, this is a TV show that is targeted towards kids and young preteens. So, there’s bound to be some problems here and there. 

- As for the positives, I recall myself pointing out earlier in this review that Gordo should feel like he should be able to talk to Miranda about her issues. And so, I’m very glad that he was included in the scene by the school staircase with Miranda and Lizzie. If it were just the two girls, I would honestly be upset because Gordo is supposed to be Miranda’s best friend too and differences in gender shouldn’t dictate the conversations best friends should have with one another. So, that made me feel really glad.

[the-mandalorian-clone-lover]

Aces in Spaces Chapter 4

Me: *comes in from armor painting and sits at my computer for an hour trying to remember what I told myself I needed to do on it* *Remembers its Monday two hours later* SITHSPIT

SO here it is!!

Erica and Roman have been dating about two months now Roman has not been to the support group yet but that’s coming next!!

Tags: @rentskenobi @sunshinepascal @princessxkenobi @maybege @obaby-wan 

If anyone wants to be added let me know!! :D (previous chapter links are at the end this time)

2 months dating

They’d met up at a local park for lunch today, Erica texted him saying she’d packed an extra sandwich if he wanted to join her for a walk, at Butch’s direction he’d offered to bring a blanket and a side (Butch also had to give him a crash course on picnic food, they had very different ideas, he’s hoping Cheetos are safe, though he grabbed an apple on the way out, because Erica likes the green ones, he knows because of a random ice breaker she’d done with the team when she’d joined). It turned out to be a great choice because she absolutely beamed when he’d gotten it out, mumbling a small ‘you remembered’ and he’d smiled, handing it over with a ‘of course I did’. Butch also managed to talk him into jeans again and despite how deeply he’d sighed at the suggestion, they are comfortable, he’ll, grudgingly, admit.

They’ve finished now and he stands and offers his arm to help her up, she’s tucking the bags away in her purse before she glances up and smiles. She takes it, standing next to him before reaching down to shake the blanket out, pausing a moment before swinging it around her shoulders like a cape. He chuckles but she simply shrugs at him.

“Capes are the best, and I’m cold anyway”

Now he wishes he’d brough that leather jacket Butch offered instead of sticking to a T-shirt.

He reaches to rub her arms over the blanket starting a slow up and down motion before pausing at her forearms, “I’d have brought a coat but I didn’t think of it being cold.”

She shrugs again “I run cold. Honestly, I can get cold under three blankets in the middle of July its wild.”

Despite the adjective she uses, her voice remains monotone and he laughs despite himself.

“Well maybe the walk you mentioned would help with that?”

She smiles, “Yeah”

They start off then, she takes his arm again, other hand clutching the blanket (though its so thin he doubt it helps much) and nudging him in the direction of a worn path that she explains is a circle around the park, this way they can loop back to the car in time to get her back to work. He asks about her work, how the older gentleman at the bookstore is doing, and he ends up hearing all about the man’s grandchildren, latest favorite book, and small cat that also graces the bookstore with her presence at times (he makes a mental note to see about cat-related Christmas presents for the man, he’s taking such good care of Erica after all). When they started seeing one another, Erica had suggested she take leave from the syndicate until the relationship was more settled (working for her boyfriend hadn’t seemed right to her) and Roman had agreed, feeling it created an imbalance that could be hard to work around in the future. Enter the kind elderly gentleman (who she said was also a family friend) who offered her a job at the bookstore and though they haven’t been together long, Roman knows she likes it there. Maybe more than she did working for him. He smiles at the thought, it brings an element of normality to their relationship, both having “normal” working hours (which is really him organizing his schedule to leave the most time for her) and planning their dates around them like any regular couple (as if he wasn’t rigging it, Butcher always adds).

“Oh look!!”

He startles at Erica’s exclamation and by the time he’s turned his head to her she’s slid from his arm and skittered away off the path, squatting down and gasping softly before reaching out to something he can’t see. Walking to her and pulling his jeans up slightly before bending he frowns, raising an eyebrow.

“Moss?”

“And the orange mushrooms!” She amends excitedly, pointing just beyond her treasured moss to the foot of a tree. She looks to him in wonder before taking in his confusion. “Here, you can’t just look at it.”

She takes a hold of his fingers and drags them down to brush against the moss, before whispering a hushed

“See?”

He frowns harder but doesn’t pull his hand away.

“It feels, nice.” He finally says, ‘Not as nice as you do’ his mind adds un-helpfully and he swallows it down. He’s decided quite firmly that if there’s any advances in their relationship to be made it will be mostly Erica who makes them, and then, only with clear consent, him.

She smiles softly, “I had a back injury in high school.” She starts, “I’d loose feeling all over without any warning, it was really unpredictable. Sometimes people could touch me and if I hadn’t seen them do it I’d have no way of knowing.” She takes a deep breath, eyes still on the moss. “Makes me really appreciate textures now that I can.” She reaches up to drag her hand along the bark of the tree, “Each little indent.” her hand drops to fan across the sparse grass, “Every individual blade.” Her eyes find their way back to his, sighing softly,

“I know it’s not for everyone.”

It does give him an out, but it’s not apologetic, and he likes that. That she has things she loves and refuses to be ashamed of them. He smiles, genuinely, and looks back at the moss. Brushing his fingers across before turning his hand and dragging his knuckles across it too.

“It really is nice. I’d never thought of it like that.”

She hums, nodding and taking a deep breath before standing slowly. “Should we head back?” Roman stands and nods to her, turning with her to come back the way they came, making another mental note to come back another day when they have more time.

They walk in silence this time and Roman can’t stop thinking. What would he do if he couldn’t feel anything? Or, by extension, anyone? It seems a horrible thing to endure and some how he feels privileged to be privy to this part of her past. It doesn’t necessarily explain anything, but it is a piece of the puzzle and he files it away for later. He’s pulled from his reverie by what sounds like a sharp gasp and a hand at his wrist, stopping immediately he turns, had he been wrong to ask Butcher to hang back? He finds Erica biting both her lips and looking at his arm, his own eyes fall to the connection point where her hand is now tightly clasped, before sliding back up to hers in question.

“Um” She starts, haltingly, eyes never leaving his wrist, “I-- I was trying to reachforyourhandandImissed”

The end leaves her mouth in a rush and he leans the slightest bit forward in confusion before his brain processes and he grins, sliding his arm up in her grasp and slotting their fingers together instead.

He holds their now connected hands up slightly, “Like this?” for some reason it comes out in a whisper.

Her eyes follow the movement before carrying on to his eyes and he realizes she’s released her hold on her lips, tongue darting out to soothe them before she’s nodding minutely, smile starting as she reaches her other hand to cover his.

“Yeah.”

He doesn’t let go the rest of the time they’re together, swinging their arms a little too enthusiastically, thumb brushing across her fingers every so often, squeezing her hand at random intervals, all in the quest to keep that smile on her face (though its shown no sign of fading since he started).

It’s when she gets out of the car to go back to work that she pauses, turning in the door to reach back into the car, extending a hand palm up and flexing her fingers slightly in request.

He obliges, placing his hand in hers, and she squeezes, smiling softly before breathing out a small, “Goodbye, Roman Stanton.”

“Goodbye Erica Justice.”

She smiles at her shoes at the use of her full name, squeezing again in farewell before she turns to close the door and nearly runs into Butch. He leans back, smiling at her before nodding kindly.

“Be seeing you Ms. Erica.”

She settles back into an easy smile and nods, placing a hand on his arm before turning to go into the bookstore, and somehow, Roman feels like everything’s changed forever.

*******************************

Chapter 3 Chapter 2 Chapter 1

[sapphiresterreart]

Miraculous Ladybug Fanfic: The Enemy

Was reading some fanfic where Marinette is akumatized and had a brief flash of inspiration. Typed this idea as far as I could before boredom kicked in. Unfinished. Unedited. Figured I’d share it anyway.

Summary: Her classmates believe she is the enemy. She’s not. But maybe she should be.

The Enemy

“For so long you’ve endured, treated like an enemy by your so-called friends.”

Damnit. Marinette grimaced, huddling tighter against the bathroom wall. Tikki, please be safe. Her phone buzzed in her back pocket. Because I don’t think I can fight this time…

“Help me gather the Chat Noir and Ladybug Miraculous and I will help you, Final Straw.”

She barked a laugh, the powers of the akuma steadily coloring her thoughts. “Final Straw?” She had a glimpse of a masked man and the negativity delved deeper. The butterflies flittered within the outline of a familiar symbol. Strange. Hadn’t she seen that before? “No, no, absolutely not.”

“Oh?” The voice deepened with an unspoken threat. “Surely you want justice?”

“Of course I do.” Black spotted her vision. Ah. She realized. That’s where. “But not with a name like that.”

“Creative one, aren’t you?” A clack echoed: an agitated cane against a stone floor. “Then what do you propose?”

“If I’m truly an enemy to them…” Pastel lips stretched into a steady grin, unfamiliar power rolling through her veins. “Then why not be an enemy to all?”

Including you, Gabriel Agreste.

Like walking into a room at night, she reached within her mind and pulled. Her emotions rippled like a wave of white hot water before it crashed. Somewhere a connection snapped. Black flooded her vision. Noise vibrated in her head and she curled tighter into a ball before she realized she needed to breathe and when she did–

It was like flipping a switch.

Her vision cleared. The emotions short-circuited into nothing. No pain. No joy. Just the dull sensation of numbness. Her head tilted as she examine herself. Interesting. No visible difference. So she was still herself? She didn’t feel the same, so then..?

Hawkmoth’s voice buzzed in her head like a pesky fly. “What have you–”

She swatted the nuisance aside. Troublesome. So then she had been akumatized. That would explain the strange emptiness. Logically, she knew she should feel more than muted surprise at her discoveries. Gabriel Agreste, Adrien’s father, is Hawkmoth. And so what did that matter? Her one purpose was to defeat Hawkmoth and return the misused miraculous to Master Fu. So that’s exactly what she planned to do.

Pity she still appeared normal. School would be a bother but she had to keep up appearances or risk Hawkmoth discovering she knew his identity. True, she didn’t know where that rat had holed himself. But she would find out. Soon.

Marinette idly straightened her clothes and stepped out of the stall. A glance at the mirror confirmed she still appeared as her civilian self. She adjusted her pigtails. There. Presentable to a reasonable degree. Now, what class did she have again?

She pulled out her phone. Several notifications had covered her lock-screen. Her thumb briefly slid along the glass to roll through the messages and she exhaled.

“To change from a hero to a villain.” She checked the time. Right. Physics. “Were they ever my allies at all?”

Did it even matter? No. Not right now. What mattered now was taking down Hawkmoth and restoring order to Paris. She’d deal with her classmates later. For now… For now, she had class to attend and notes to take.

She turned from the mirror and strode out of the bathroom. Hallways stretched before her, lined with doors, and she walked to Ms. Mendeleiev’s classroom. Class had already started and the door was closed. Her knuckles rapped against the door in quick succession and she waited.

The door opened to reveal the purple haired and sharp-eyed teacher. “So glad you could join us, Ms. Dupain-Cheng.” Marinette waited, silent. The teacher eyed her critically but, when the silence stretched, Ms. Mendeleiev huffed. “Hurry along, now.”

Marinette breezed her way into her seat. She ignored the others as they shot the occasional spiteful glare her way. She continued to ignore them until lunch time when Lila staged another scene.

In the cafeteria and surrounded by their classmates, the liar wailed. “And then I went to comfort her like a good friend should but you know what she said to me?”

On cue, Max’s voice prompted her. “What?”

“She threatened me! She said she’d get revenge and take you all away from me. But I didn’t do anything to her! I just don’t know why she hates me so much.”

Marinette had just bitten a forkful of her pasta when rapid footsteps approached and two broad hands slammed against the tabletop. She frowned as her cup of water toppled to the side and splashed onto the rest of the noodles.

“Kim,” she started to say.

“What is wrong with you, Marinette?” The taller boy exploded. “Can’t you see your actions have consequences? Why do you keep hurting Lila?”

Slowly, she lifted her gaze from her water-logged food to the fuming boy. She blinked, slow and steady, and shifted her gaze onto the rest of the group. They watched with equal faces of ire. Silently, she picked up the cup and wiped the damp with a napkin.

“Aren’t you listening?” Kim yelled. “Why do you–”

Without a word, she picked up her tray and stood. She pivoted, Kim hot on her heels, and walked to the trash bins.

“Marinette, I’m talking to you! Stop ignoring–”

She emptied the tray and placed it with the rest of the dirty trays atop the bin. Shame she had to waste food, but. Her vision darkened as Hawkmoth yelled inside her head. But she had priorities. Finished, she shoved aside the man’s voice and she turned away from Kim’s yells and she tuned out the clamor of agitated students. She walked out the door.

She didn’t get very far. This time it was Alya storming after her.

“What was that, girl?” Her former best friend blocked her path, hands on hips. “You don’t get to just brush off our friends like that.”

“Your friends.” Her mouth corrected before she could think. “Kim is not my friend.”

“What?” Alya shot her a look. “Girl, your jealous streak has gone way too far. You need to–”

“I don’t need to do anything.” Marinette corrected once more before she amended. “Well, except for one but that’s irrelevant.”

“What is with you?” Alya crossed her arms. Typical closed-off posturing, Marinette idly noted. Why waste my time? She made to move around the other girl but Alya shifted to block her way. Marinette made to turn around but Alya stepped in front once more. “Stop trying to run away, Marin–”

It was then that a flash of anger struck.

“I am not Marinette.” Oops. That was the Akuma talking for sure.

“…what?”

Hmm. How to fix this? “I am not your Marinette, Alya. Not your friend, not your anything. Not anymore.”

“What?”

“You heard me just fine.” She leveled steely blue to startled brown. “You want Lila? That’s fine. But you don’t get me too.”

With that, she stepped forwards and made it two steps before a hand grabbed her by the shoulder. The anger surged and before she could rein herself in, she had already flipped Alya over her shoulder and down to the ground.

“Stay out of the way, Césaire.” Marinette bared her teeth in a smile. She released the startled girl. “Or you’ll find I’m just as strong an enemy than an ally.”

Alya lay there, winded, as she walked away. Nuisance. Her brows pinched together and a brief bubble of guilt popped in the haze. That’s not right. I could’ve hurt her. I should apologize. But for what? She wasn’t in the wrong. She had one goal. Césaire was in the way and had been warned. She’s my friend. I shouldn’t… She had one goal. She shouldn’t worry about a little thing like teenagers.

She had one goal. And she would achieve it.

Change of plans, Hawkmoth. She mused. There’s no reason to waste time here. Not when she could be revealing the truth. In quick paces, she found the stairwell. She climbed up and up until she reached the roof. Without a thought, she jumped off the ledge.

Familiar words rolled off her tongue. “Spots on.”

A flash of black erupted around her. She flung a black yo-yo out of the smog and swung from rooftop to rooftop in search of butterfly windows and a mansion. It wasn’t until she arrived atop the mansion’s roof did she realize Hawkmoth had been oddly silent.

She darted around until finally she decided to just enter the house. Unsurprisingly, the doors were locked. One smashed window and several severed bars later, she stormed her way through the building. Distantly, police sirens roared but she paid them no head as she tore through the mansion in search of the hidden lair.

The noise increased as she stood in the foyer in front of a mosaic painting. Emilie Agreste.

“Come on out, little butterflies.” She cooed and reached inwards. Like before, she found a string and pulled. Beneath the painting, a butterfly fluttered. There.

Behind her, the mansion doors busted open. “…m’lady?”

“Not your lady.” Slowly, she turned. “Never your lady, minou. What kind of enemy has allies, after all.”

“Bugaboo…” the concern was clear, “what happened?” To you? Went unspoken.

Many things, kitty. She shook her head clear of black spots. “No time, chaton. Hawkmoth is here.”

He straightened. “What? But–”

The butterfly flittered around her pigtails before settling atop her shoulder. “Ah, little butterfly.” She murmured. “I’ll set you free.”

“Lady–”

With that, she flung her yo yo backwards and ripped apart the painting. Oddly enough, Chat yowled like she had struck him instead. She didn’t have time to concern herself with that, though. No. She had to reveal the truth.

Her yo-yo shredded the fabric to reveal a passageway filled with butterflies. Without a backwards glance, she sprinted down the path, guided by white wings. She didn’t have time to wait for her partner. She needed to end this. And she needed to end it now.

“Come out, Hawkmoth.” Her voice echoed within the underground rooms as she vaulted through them. “It’s time.”

Doors opened beneath her slinging yo-yo and she flung herself into the last room: a room lit by a butterfly shaped window. Alone in the light stood a familiar figure. Hawkmoth.

“…just who are you, Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”

“I’m who I need to be.” She offered a smile and twirled her weapon. “The enemy, remember?”

[chokemepaulson]

'I Need Somebody With Some Patience, Cause You Know I Got A Temperament.'

Kinktober Day 1 (Angry Sex)

Pairing • Wilhemina Venable x Reader

Warnings / Notes • Angry / Rough sex and very brief choking ahead!!! This is the first time I've ever done anything like this so let me know if you would like to see more like this?

Words • 1,001

Tag List • @ahs-honey @shineestark @marilynroselleprentiss @saviorinsilk @gay-and-sad-tm @sarah-paulson-is-supreme

The pit of Ms. Venables's stomach burned and ached with her raw need, searching and chasing after the beautiful high that she received from her favorite addiction that she never even should've started to feed. Her perfectly painted purple manicured nails dug into your sides and the redhead arches her back, her body hungrily searching for yours. The older woman closes her eyes tightly as her mind started to grow cloudy, she was trying to forget, trying to forget how terrifying this had become. How terrifying it was to need someone.

Wilhemina was always very percise in her life, and nothing was unplanned. Every meeting was always made weeks ahead of time, her meals were prepped and frozen in advance, she found relief and comfort in knowing what was to come, and she hated surprises with every fiber in her being. Well maybe before you.

You had blown into her world like a tornado and you quickly demolished the bitchy walls that she had placed up. You, however, would never know that because her facade would always be in place. "Would you please just fuck me." The older woman snapped impatiently as you teased her clit.

You look down and you soak in the look that was on the woman's face, you loved coming over after work, especially when Ms. Venable had a rough day, because whenever she finally crashed over the edge you were able to see the muscles in her neck tighten, you got to see her jaw-dropping and you were able to hear the low and deep rumble of a moan tumble out from between those perfect lips. The best part of it all was it was you who had done it, you held her pleasure literally in the palm of your hand.

"We were doing so good then weren't we?" Your voice is sickenly sweet and you smirk at her because you knew she always hated when you done that. "You were fucking my fingers so so nicely." You lean down and you take her kiss swollen and bruised bottom lip into your mouth. You pull it back with your teeth and you suck on it, before ultimately letting it go with a pop.

"Oh shut up," She opens her eyes then and they're dark as she glares at you. "You talk way too damn much, i dont want to hear you-" She's cut off by your palm and she hated to admit it but a fresh wave of her arousal coated your fingers that were currently working under her silk panties. Practically teasing her with heaven.

"Ah yes. So so much better." You husk and you lick your lips. "That mouth is going to get you in a lot of trouble some day Ms. Venable."

'Fuck you.' she mumbled behind your hand and she shivers at the dark and deep chuckle that leaves your lungs.

"Oh, my dear that's precisely what I'm doing to you." Your lips paint a path down Venables collar bone and your teeth bite down on soft, fair skin, marking her for the first time.

She shifts her body and she grunted as she feels you mark her, she knew that meant, you had claimed her, it meant that she was yours. She attempts to make you move your palm by licking it but it doesn't work so she just lifts her hips up a little, maybe you'd get on with it and leave.

"You want me to hurry? Awe." Your voice is sweet again and you could see Wilhemina's skin flush red in frustration, you loved teasing her like this. You loved feeling her walls clench around your fingers and my gods did you love when her breathing completely shifted when she got pissed at you.

She drags her nails up your sides, leaving a trail of hot, freshly wounded skin behind her fingers and she smirks darkly against your palm. Her nails dig into your waist and she pulls you down roughly against her body. Your hand leaves her mouth so you could support yourself, "I said fuck me, Now do it or leave."

"Damn babe calm down," You tease her and your eyes are filled with fire and passion as you gaze into Wilhemina's.

"Don't," she growls and she grabs your throat, squeezing it with a reckless abandon. "Don't do that, don't ever call me babe."

You swallow then and you decide to curl your fingers that were currently buried gloriously in her hot and wet heat. When the pad of your middle finger brushes against her g-spot the older woman throws her head back, her grip around your neck releasing. "Yes! More."

You lick your lips and you look down at the woman's neck, watching and waiting for your favorite part. You didn't have to wait long because in a few careful thrusts your palm presses against Venable's clit just right and she's carried over into her intoxicating release.

"Such a good assistant." She mumbles and she pats your cheek lazily as she comes down from her high.

You roll your eyes and you pull your fingers completely out of the woman's core before cleaning them up with your tongue. Reveling in the taste of the older woman's release.

She watched sleepily and she clears her throat softly, you could hear the hesitation in her voice as she speaks. "There's... Some dinner in the freezer, you just have to put it in the oven... If you're hungry."

You look up from your glistening hand and a small smile makes its way onto your face. "Sounds very, very promising, but I think I'll eat dinner later, you know how naughty I am and my dessert always comes first.' You kiss down her body and when your lips reach her hipbones the redhead's weak fingers clench your hair into her fist.

"Oh fuck."

REQUEST MORE HERE

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[jordswriteswords]

Clextober19: Vampires and Werewolves

“I hate you!” Madi screamed, slamming the door shut in her mother’s face.

Tears formed in Clarke’s eyes as she gaped at the white door. Her daughter had never said those words before, and although knowing that one day her child would utter them, the reality of it still stung like a fresh wound.

Clarke turned around and did what she always did when she needed to think - she painted.

Lexa left her to it, knowing her wife needed some space, but she worried, hovering by the door of her wife’s art studio with a warm cup of tea in her hands an hour later.

“I know you’re there,” Clarke breathed out sadly. “You don’t need to hover.”

“You know she doesn’t mean it.”

“She’s only six,” Clarke said, eyes watering again. “Our six year old hates me.”

Lexa wrapped her arms around her wife’s shoulders, pulling her into her chest for comfort. “She doesn’t hate you.”

“She turned Finn Jr. Into a fish,” Clarke laughed at. “It’s funny, but fish can’t live outside of water, Lexa. She nearly killed the boy. Ms. Niylah had to keep him in a glass until you showed up. Sometimes your magic sucks,” Clarke said with a sad chuckle. 

Lexa chuckles as well. “I just wish she’d tell us why she did it.”

***

“You can’t say those things to your mom, Mads,” Lexa leaned against the frame of her daughter’s door, speaking gently to her daughter as she furiously threw things about her room.

“Well, I do!” Madi announced, hands on her hips. “She’s always telling me I can’t do magic and I’m always getting into trouble and you do magic all. the. time. and you don’t get into any trouble at all.”

“Your mother and I don’t want you using magic at school because you’re still learning how to control it. You’re a half-ling, baby, it’s different for you. It’s just going to take a little more practice, and until then, we want you safe.”

“Well, I hate you too, then. I hate both of you!”

“Madi,” Lexa warned, green eyes sharp with frustration. “Enough. Get your jammies on, it’s bedtime.”

Madi crossed her arms and huffed at her mama, puffs of smoke pluming from her nostrils as her face reddened.

Ignoring the tantrum, Lexa said, “I’ll be back in ten minutes to tuck you in.”

***

“That didn’t go as well as planned, she officially hates me, too,” Lexa said, dropping down onto the couch next to Clarke.

“It’s so hard for her,” Clarke let her head rest on her wife’s shoulder, brooding over what to do.

“You’re a great mom, Clarke,” Lexa said. “And a great wife.” She placed a soft kiss to her temple and wrapped her arms around her waist.

“Ditto,” Clarke replied. “Let’s tuck her in together. Tell her we love her even though she’s mad at us.”

***

“Madi?” Clarke asked, knocking lightly on the open door. “Honey, can we come in?”

At the lack of response, Clarke and Lexa moved into their daughter’s room. The closet was a mess, and they couldn’t see their daughter anywhere.

“Madi?” Lexa asked. She stepped back out into the hallway and checked the bathroom. “Madi? – Clarke, is she hiding under her bed?”

“No,” Clarke responded, and her voice shaky with fear. “She’s not here, Lexa!”

***

Madi whistled as she walked along the pathway, dragging her suitcase filled with her most prize possessions behind her. 

Madi was so angry with her mother’s that she ended up crying. She couldn’t understand her own emotions, and the tears came pouring out out of reflex. She sniffed and poofed herself and her luggage to another part of the city. She didn’t care that it was dark and she was so obviously lost, she was just glad to be out of that house with all those rules.

A low grumble from the nearby bush startled her from her thoughts. They shifted with a creature’s shadow. Madi swallowed thickly, looking around for an adult that could save her. The grumble turned into a growl, and Madi fell backwards in fright, toppling over her luggage. 

The growl grew louder as the figure emerged from the bushes - white fangs and massive amounts of fur and yellow eyes. The giant wolf stalked towards the fallen girl, her blue eyes wide as she struggled to move her long brown hair out of her face to see it more clearly. 

“Oh, a puppy!” Madi exclaimed. 

The wolf paused in it’s step, head cocked to the side at her exuberance. 

“You’re not afraid of me?”

“You can talk?” Madi asked. “Hi, puppy!” Madi waved. “You’re so fluffy!”

The wolf took a step back, sitting on its hind legs and looking at the girl. 

“You can hear me?”

“Yup. What’s your name? I’m Madi.” Madi asked.

“Lincoln.“

“Nice to meet you, Lincoln. That’s a strange name for a dog.”

A loud screech sounded and a bat flew down towards Madi. The wolf barked and growled, and the bat flapped its wings, settling on the wolf’s back instead.

“You have a bat?” Madi asked with excitement.

“She can hear you?” The bat asked Lincoln.

Madi gasped. “You have a talking bat?" 

The wolf sat back on his heels again and shook his fur until the bat flew off, landing on the earth beside him.

“Octavia, this is Madi. She can hear us.”

The bat extended its wings and flew into the air, fluttering around Madi’s head. “She’s small. How old are you?”

"I’m six-and-three-months.”

Madi could swear she saw a hint of a smile on the bat;s face. “And what is a six-and-three-month year old doing out here so late? The bat asked. Where are your parents?”

Madi shrugged. “I ran away.”

“Why?”

“My mommies are mean.”

The bat flapped its wings wildly, taking itself to sit on top of Lincoln’s head.

“Really?” He asked, his big snout directed towards the bat.

“I’m comfy,” Octavia replied. She turned to Madi and asked, “Why are your mommies mean, little one?”

“My mommy doesn’t like that I’m a witch and I have powers and I should be able to use them whenever I want, and my mama is a witch and she gets to use hers all the time but she won’t let me and it’s not fair because the only reason I even used my powers is because Finn Jr. said that I’m weird for having two mommies. He said that his daddy was going to take my mommy from my mama because they used to hold hands when they were in school, and I don’t want my mommy to not love my mama anymore, and I don’t want to be weird because I have two mommies!” Madi sniffed and her luggage opened, violently throwing out her stuffed griffon and stuffed raccoon. 

“Do you think I’m weird because I’m a wolf?” Lincoln asked. “And for having wolf parents?”

Madi shook her head, wiping her nose with her sleeve. Another toy flew from her suitcase and landed in front of Lincoln. “No, ‘cause everyone has different mommies and daddies, and some of them are witches and some are elves and some are humans like my other mommy so it doesn’t matter what your mommies and daddies are and who they hold hands with.”

“I think you were very brave to try and protect your mommies, Octavia said. “Did you tell them what happened?”

Madi shook her head again. “It would make them sad, and I hate when they’re sad.”

“Don’t you think they’re going to be sad when they realize you’re not home?”

Madi opened her mouth to retort, but snapped it shut as she realized the truth behind Octavia’s words. “Do you think they’ll be mad?”

The bat flew up into the air and landed in Madi’s shoulder. She wrapped one of her wings around Madi’s neck. “I doubt it. I have a strong feeling they’ll just be happy you’re home. And then you can talk about what happened today.”

“I don’t know how to get home,” Madi said, her chin quivering as she became more upset. “I can’t control my magic and I acci - acci - accidenenenally came here.”

“Hop on,” Lincoln said, bowing down so that Madi could crawl on his back. “Just don’t grab the fur too hard.”

Madi did just as asked, and got on his back. “Wait!” She cried. “What about my suitcase?”

Octavia flew off her shoulder and landed on the handle of the bag.”I’ll take it.” She flew forward, hardly making the case budge. Try as she might, the little bat couldn’t get the luggage to move. Lincoln nudged it with his nose to get the wheels started, and the bat flapped feverishly to keep the momentum.

“Okay, let’s go home to my mommies,” Madi said.

***

“Madi!” Clarke yelled, racing down the steps to meet her. “Madi, Madi!” She dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around her six year old daughter. “Don’t you ever do that again!” Clarke sobbed into her daughter’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Mommy.”

“Madi!” Lexa yelled, running out of the house. Raven and Anya were close behind as well. Lexa crashed into her wife and daughter, her arms coming around them both in a tight hug.

“I’m sorry Mama, I didn’t mean to run away, I just got so mad and then I ended up somewhere else.”

Clarke and Lexa pressed kisses to her face and brushed her hair out of her eyes. “Are you alright?” Lexa asked. “We were so worried.”

“How did you get home?” Clarke added.

A bark from a few feet away caught their attention, and both Clarke and Lexa turned to see the wolf sitting on his hind legs, his tail wagging behind him, and the tiny bat fluttering around his head.

“Lincoln?” Lexa asked. 

The wolf barked again and his tail wag picked up speed.

“O?” Clarke added.

The wolf howled and the bat screeched, and with a puff of smoke, Lexa’s cousin, the tall, dark, and handsome Lincoln Birch, and Clarke’s longtime friend, Octavia, stood before them.

“You’re people?” Madi asked, completely dumbfounded.

“You’re back from Romania?” Lexa asked, standing slowly, Madi still wrapped around her neck and her hip. Clarke had her arm across Madi’s and Lexa’s back.

“Looks like,” Octavia said, stepping towards them and kissing their cheeks. She booped Madi’s nose, making the six year old giggle. “I’m a vampire, and Lincoln is a werewolf. We’re also your aunt and uncle.”

Madi smiled brightly up at Octavia and Lincoln.

“She’s got your hair,” Lincoln nodded to his cousin.

“And your eyes,” Octavia said to her best friend. "But, on our trip back, someone told us she wants to talk to you about what happened today.“

Madi tucked her neck back into her Mama’s neck and mumbled, "Finn waff beduff nadhuff a mass.”

“Can you look at us, baby?” Clarke cooed. “We’re not mad at you, but we can’t understand what you’re saying with your face in mama’s neck.”

“Finn Jr. Said I was weird for having two mommies. And he said that you weren’t gonna love Mama anymore because his daddy was gonna take you back.”

“First of all,” Clarke said, cheeks turning a deep red from her anger. Lexa’s hand stroked her back to calm her. She breathed out a sigh. “Madi, I love you and your mama more than you could ever imagine. Nothing will ever change that. Nothing. No matter what Finn Jr. said. It’s you, me, and mama forever, okay?”

Lexa nodded, then added, “And even if he scared or upset you, you shouldn’t be using your magic to hurt people. It’s not nice and you know that. And you need to tell us if someone’s bothering you, okay?”

Madi nodded, thoroughly scolded by her parents, but snuggled into her parents hug, happy that they loved her anyway. “I’m not weird?”

“No, baby, we love you,” Clarke said.

“No, you’re definitely not weird,” Lexa added. “You’re special.”

[spellbound-banshee]

Chemistry - Peter Parker

Request: can you do a one shot where peter hates the reader and they’re in the same chemistry class and the reader is struggling and failing the class cause she has a bad family situation and the teacher tells her that she won’t be graduating because she’s failing and peter over hears the conversation so he decides to help her and finds out about her family situation and they become friends? it’s okay if you don’t wanna write it but i love your writing!! ❤️❤️❤️

heck yeah! this sounds soooo cute! and thank you sm :)

Summary: explained above!

Warnings: fluff, swearing, angst, mentions of death, TERRIBLE WRITING

Pairing: Peter Parker (TH) x reader

“I’m sorry Ms. (L/n), but I can’t let you graduate if you’re failing my class, you’re going to have to retake this year if you can’t get your grade up in the next few months.” Your teacher handed you yet another graded “F” on a test, making you cringe a bit and stuff it into your book bag. “I know what you’re going through is hard-”

“You don’t know anything about what I’m going through. I’m trying my best here, can’t you see that?” You spat, heaving your book bag up with a loud sigh. 

“Death in the family or not, you have to pass to get out of here. And I’m not going to let you slide by.” She sat in her chair with a sigh of agitation, picking up another test and slamming it down in front of her. You scoffed and stormed out of the classroom, the students beginning to get their money for lunch and going to the cafeteria.

A couple of weeks ago, your Mom and Dad got into a car crash while you were out with your friends. You weren’t made aware until your Dad came to and called you, making you stop in your tracks and immediately drive to the hospital. Your mother was in a coma due to severe brain injury, as she had been on the passenger side where the car hit. After a few days of worried pacing and waiting, she had flatlined and the doctors could do nothing to revive her. Your father is clearly trying his hardest to get through this, but he can’t even look after himself, so you’ve been on your own throughout this process. You started skipping school and failing your classes to cry in the courtyard; everyone in the school new about this, and though they tried to help, nothing could make your pain go away. 

“E-excuse me?” You heard a soft voice mumble behind you. Turning around, you saw the face of a familiar Peter Parker; you hadn’t known him too well, but he sat behind you in your chemistry class. He was super smart, and seemed to keep to himself mostly.

“Hey, Peter.” You smiled gently at him, and he seemed surprised that you even knew his name. Despite what some people thought, you weren’t a bitch, you were grieving, which caused you to isolate yourself from your friends and the rest of your family. Even though you tried, you couldn’t find the strength to keep relationships.

“Y-yeah... I’m P-Peter. I-I sit behind you in chemistry, but I guess you already know that...” He seemed to trail off, a light pink tint blooming on his cheeks. “I’m sorry... a-about your family it must be really hard...” You nodded your head; Peter knew about grief, when Peter’s uncle had died the whole school knew about it, but nobody really had the courage to say anything to him.

“Thank you...” You gave him a tight-lipped smile, wondering where this conversation was going, or why he was talking to you in the first place.

“A-anyway... I overheard that you were having some trouble in chemistry... a-and I like chemistry so... if you want I-I can help you... with that.” He seemed to end the sentence in a question, and he definitely seemed like he was scared to talk to you, but that was more of an awkwardness thing. “I mean if you want... you totally don’t have to-”

“I could really use the help.” You admitted sheepishly, fiddling with the skin on your fingers for a bit. You were a bit nervous in the first place, why was someone you barely knew being so nice to you? But, then again, he was a nice kid from what you heard and saw, and nobody - not even the teachers - had offered to help you. “Are you busy tonight?”

“T-tonight? As in like after school...” Peter mentally hit himself. He couldn’t believe he was stumbling over his words and being so... weird in front of you. Sure, he liked you and everything but acting cool was definitely not one of his specialties. 

“Yeah... like after school.” You answered curiously, tilting your head with a small endearing smile stretching your lips.

“Of course, I-I knew what you meant.” He took a small breath in, attempting to calm his racing thoughts. “Yes, yes I should be free tonight. If you want you could come over to my apartment, my aunt is making a casserole, shouldn’t be too bad of a disaster.”

You smiled gently at that, he was funny, cute, smart and he was willing to help you. Sounds like the whole package.

“Sounds good, I can drive if you want, just tell me the way.”

“O-okay, thank you...” He trailed off as you nodded, beginning to walk to your locker. 

“Thanks for offering to help, I really appreciate it.” 

Peter smiled and let out a tiny noise of glee when he was sure he was out of sight; sure, it was something as simple as helping you not fail chemistry, but it was a start.

-

“There are so many stupid equations to remember!” You yelled in frustration, rubbing your temples, wanting to rip out your hair in anger. You were a smart kid, but not paying attention and missing a lot - especially in chemistry - is a hard thing to come back from.

“Okay, okay. Why don’t we take a break?” Peter said calmly, timidly moving the textbook away from you with a sheepish smile.

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have shouted.” You whispered, your head still in your hands, already feeling tears stinging the back of your eyes. You couldn’t believe you were crying in front of someone you barely knew.

“Hey, it’s okay... I get it. Just take some deep breaths.” Peter absolutely knew grief, he’d lost his parents and his uncle; even though it happened a long time ago, he would still get nightmares and get flashbacks. Though he wasn’t the best comforter at first, he knew your pain.

“I-I’m sorry... I shouldn’t have... I knew this would happen.” You began to stand up, desperately trying to hide the tears forming in your eyes, but Peter could see them, and his little heart broke at the sight of them. “I-I should go... thank you again for-”

As you turned around, you felt a light pressure on your forearm, not enough to pull you but enough to catch your attention. You couldn’t look back at him, you knew if you did, you would want to cry on his shoulder, and you didn’t want to open up, you didn’t want to put that burden onto someone as sweet as him.

“(Y/n)...” That was the first time he’d said your name, and so softly. It already felt like home, it felt so warm and comfortable, desperate to comfort you. “Don’t go... please. You’re not a burden. I promise you, you’re not a burden.” It was like he was reading your mind, and in that second you knew why. He had probably been in this exact situation before. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable, but I’m here... I know you don’t know me well... but I’m here.”

That voice. So soft, so tender and loving. No bad intention behind it, just the need to make you feel safe and comfortable, the need to take your pain from you. By this point, tears were flowing freely down your face, and you slowly, slowly turned to meet his eyes. That face. That puppy-dog face just wanting, itching to pull you into a tight hug and never let you go. He barely even knew you, but all he wanted to do was tell you that everything will eventually be alright.

Neither of you moved. He didn’t want to make you flinch, he just held your arm  gently, his thumb twitching back and forth carefully as to try to soothe you in some way. When his eyebrows creased, you took a shuddering breath in and moved towards him. With some hesitation, he reached out his arms and pulled you into his chest. You weren’t heavily sobbing, you were barely even crying anymore, but the comfort and vulnerability you felt made you smile. You hadn’t felt loved in a long time, and you couldn’t help but wrap your arms around him as well. As soon as that happened, he pulled you a bit closer and put one hand on the back of your head, stroking your hair soothingly.

Neither of you wanted to let go, being this close to each other created a strong bond wordlessly. He started to rock back and forth gently, his other arm going to wrap around the small of your back as he bent slightly forward to be your height. You breathed in the scent of his hoodie, the smell of school still lingering on him with a hint of whatever cheap cologne he buys. 

Eventually, you both pulled away, Peter’s hands immediately coming up to gently wipe your sticky cheeks of tears you forgot were even there. “I’m s-”

“Don’t apologize.” Peter shook his head, leaving a lingering touch on your cheek before pulling away. “Thanks for opening up to me, really. It means a lot.” You gave Peter a small smile and a nod, rubbing the back of your neck shyly and putting your bag down. “Hey, we should take a break. Maybe we could help Aunt May not burn the complex down.” Again, you smiled.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude...”

Peter shook his head, taking your hands in his and actually making eye contact with you to show he means it. “You’re not intruding at all, I’m sure May would love to meet you.” 

“Okay.” You nodded softly, and he smiled in response, that pink tint coming back to paint his cheeks. Oh sure, now he was getting all blushy again.

With another shy smile, he opened the door for you and gestured for you to lead the way. You were met with the bright smile of - presumably - Aunt May, who seemed just as happy to see you as Peter was.

As you and Peter helped May with the food, you all got to know each other better. You talked about your life and what’s been going on, and for the first time in a while, you smile genuinely. You laugh with them over embarrassing and funny stories, even finding the courage to put some of your own in there. 

Peter swears your an angel. He’s never heard you laugh before, genuinely. I mean a giggle here and there when you were talking with your friends at the lunch table in front of him, but this was you. You were finally happy for the first time in what felt like an eternity. 

“Hey...” Just before you were going to walk out the door to drive home, Aunt May tapped you gently on the shoulder. “Peter really likes you.” She gave another one of her bright smiles, and you could see Peter blush from across the room. “You’re really special, (Y/n). Never forget that, okay?” You almost felt moved to tears once more, where were the Parkers a couple of weeks ago?

“Thank you, Ms. Parker...” You gave her a smile and a nod, hoisting your bag up once more.

“Oh please, you’re family now. Call me May.” She gave your hair a small ruffle and smiled opening the door a little wider so you had a comfortable space to get out.

“Thank you, again. And Peter?” His head perked up from around the corner as he was putting dishes in the sink. He was still blushing madly, but doing his best to hide it. “Call me. Maybe we could try again?”

“Y-yeah. Yeah that’d be awesome.” With a final smile and a nod, you walked out the door and shut it gently behind you, shaking your head as you felt dizzy off the happiness.

“Peter.” Aunt May sighed heavily, shaking her head and smiling.

“Yeah, May?” 

“Do you have her phone number?” May knew her saying that was a sign, telling him to give her his number. 

When Peter’s eyes went wide, you could hear Aunt May’s laugh from the stairwell above you just as you heard your name being echoed throughout the stone walls.

-