#i'm too tired to know what i'm doing with these tags XD

[hannah-heartstrings]

WIP Wednesday <3

Thanks for the tag, @inkysqueed! Tagging you back as per our tradition. XD Also tagging @babyblueetbaemonster @druidx @emeraldhazeart @katastronoot and @spellboundinks

To be honest I haven't been working on much here lately, but I found this line in an unfinished scene 🤭:

            But no time in all her thieving days had she wanted a treasure as badly as she wanted to be close to him right now.

[frameconfessions]

I wonder how sentients would have sex with a being of a different species. I wanna know what would make them feel pleasure. I think they procreate asexually, but how do they pleasure themselves or get pleasured? I wanna know for science.

I'm actually really curious too for science- yeah for science, of course!

Okay, yeah the lore gives us nothing. Damn.

[firebirdsdaughter]

Aaaaahhhh…

… Was reading a (very good!) fic, and the author pointed out that it's Very Interesting that Kubo used Byakuya and Renji to explain Sasakibe's backstory, and I was like… Oh my gods.

Bc a) I love the whole 'I will be your right arm and do what you cannot' thing and b) I was just thinking about how I think that does apply to Byakuya and Renji.

Now it says in my contract I can't put too much stake in Tite 'I never thought we'd make it to the Soul Society' Kubo using too much deep literary symbolism/association, plus this is shonen, where said symbolism/association isn't a main priority (which is fine, BLEACH was my first manga/anime and I still love it in it's silly 2000s nonsense).

But to me… That is so them? It's a point of interest to me that Byakuya ever approved Renji as his Assistant Captain. Like. Surely that's a position that the Captain in question has to approve, since they'll be relying on each other so much. And you can't tell me Kuchiki Rules Lawyer Byakuya didn't do due diligence w/ the candidates. So why Renji to begin w/? Neither manga nor anime ever explains, and it's not relevant to the actual story. Renji bc the plot demanded it. But I also kinda like the idea of Byakuya intentionally picking someone who's a little more brash and aggressive than he allows himself to be. Someone who's more reliant on brute force and forging forward. Although it doesn't ultimately get explored much bc of the nature of the genre and the era it was written in, it comes across as Byakuya choosing someone who can be the things, have the reactions and emotions he feels he must withhold from himself. He's rigid and stoic and stingy about praise, while Renji seems to be pretty friendly with the squad and even has a subordinate that looks up to him. Like Byakuya know he's chilly and he needs someone more passionate and expressive to balance him out.

Which also makes the blood war arc events very interesting to me; unlike the other Captains, Byakuya has an Assistant who has bankai. He could, and by some theories should have had Renji use his bankai to test the enemy. He's the superior officer, technically stronger. From certain povs, it might have made more sense to risk the Assistant Captain's powers. But instead, he does it himself, and even after his bankai is stolen, he keeps insisting Renji stay back and learn from his fight (I do love the little aside in the manga where he tells Renji he's probably not smart enough to test the enemy and Renji grumbles but agrees w/ him, bc it felt so humanising and just… kinda brother-y for both of them). And even while horribly injured, he drags himself back to his feet when As Nodt starts attacking Renji. Now, it's probably also or the sake of the Soul Society itself. It makes sense, esp since they both have bankai, for one of them to stay back. But the fact that he has Renji do so, effectively sacrifices himself from the get-go, is so interesting to me.

And, of course, the very end of that fight clearly establishes how much Renji has come to mean to him. They could have just made him ask about Rukia, as so many of his appearances are primarily focused on her (sigh shonen), but instead, he apologises to both of them, and then the first thing he asks Ichigo is if they're both alive (non sequitur but if they hadn't been I thoroughly think Ichigo would have lied to him to spare him the knowledge, and also I'm a little lukewarm about Ichigo but I loved that moment).

It convinces me that while there was definitely logic/strategy in it, he was also trying to do his best to protect his Lieutenant, esp after shit truly hits the fan.

But to cycle back around to… What ever my point might have been, whether it's intentional or not, I think the fact that it's Renji and Byakuya used to tell us this story of the eternally loyal Assistant, that Byakuya clearly thinks very highly of Sasakibe's loyalty and duty. That it comes right at the start of that arc where the above happens. That Renji and Byakuya are… Aside from Shunsui and Nanao, I think the only Captain and Assistant pair that last the whole story? Oh, and Soi-Fon and her Assistant. And Hitsugaya and Rangiku! That they are one of four out of thirteen pairs that remain unchanged by the end.

I could go into a lot more (finding out the Captain you thought was kind and compassionate is a monster, while your emotionally challenged, expressionless jackass of a new Captain is a genuinely honourable and noble person), but that would get even more nonsensical. The short version is, I definitely think that whole philosophy, that image of the Assistant becoming the indispensable right hand that balances out the Captain, fills in for the things they lack or can't do for whatever reason, is really well displayed by these two, esp compared w/ some of the other dynamics we see (Momo and Izuru's blind devotion to their initial Captains, Yachiru being more moral support/after fight recovery, whatever the hell is the deal w/ Oomeda). Like Renji was his hot headed younger brother he was mentoring long before he and Rukia actually became a thing.

They're not the only ones, of course, Hitsugaya and Rangiku sync very well, so did Isane and Unohana. Kenpachi and Yachiru work, and Ikkaku stands a high chance of fulfilling the same role (albeit they should probably keep Yumichika on hand just in case). And tbh it didn't register w/ me the first time (I think partially bc I was a little overwhelmed by all the Things going on), but when someone else pointed it out… I'm like. Yeah. I think that means something.

[tizeline]

I'm guessing that after season finale, Leo sneaking out to see Donnie is in secret. Is there a moment where Leo's other brothers find out? Do they feel betrayed, or do they assume it's part of Leo's master plan to have Donnie switch over?

Is there moments Leo stays the night at the lair cuz of tensions at home, or just because he wants to hang out with Donnie more?

Love your AU!!

Okay so here's the thing. Before the season one finale, Leo would always worry so much about living up to expectations, about what his family would think of him. This led to him keeping many secrets, his interest in Lou Jitsu plus human media and pop-culture in general, his frequenting NYC and Run Of The Mill, all of that he would spend years keeping closely hidden from his father and brothers. Then later he'd also have to hide his tense but slowly improving relationship with Donnie and his doubts about Draxum's world domination plan. When the season one finale happens and Leo teams up with Donnie, the cover is blown and essentially all of those closely guarded secrets are exposed.

So after that, Leo is done with secrets, he's tired of putting on an act all the time. His family already knows that he's befriended Donnie at this point, and not in the way they wanted. They know that he interacts with human society, and so what? Instead of hiding this part of himself, Leo does the opposite and brags about it, shoving in their face. Basically any time Leo leaves to go hang out with Donnie he will let everyone know and then teleport away in front of their faces lol. (Jokes on Leo, he is still very much putting on an act, this time it's just an act of indifference. He is very much bothered by the tension between him and his family, especially between him and his dad, but he doesn't want to admit to anyone else or himself that that's the case)

But Leo does absolutely sometimes stay overnight at Donnie's place, both as an act of rebellion but also because Draxum's displeasure with Leo really gets to him and he just doesn't wanna deal with that sometimes.

Both Draxum and Mikey are, uh, a bit salty over the whole Dark Armor fiasco, including Leo's kinda-sorta-not-really-but-also-technically-betrayal. So they have a pretty pissy attitude during this part of the story XD and Leo running yelling about HOW MUCH FUN he's having with HIS TWIN BROTHER and also how Leo was TOTALLY RIGHT ABOUT EVERYTHING just makes them more annoyed (and they're not even twins??? where did leo get that idea from, what is he on about???).

Meanwhile, Raph does agree with Leo when it comes the fact that destroying humanity is not a very cool thing to do, but he still doesn't exactly vibe with humans. Needless to say, he's a bit conflicted about everything which causes him to usually get caught in the middle of Leo's and Draxum + Mikey's beef where he's stuck trying to play mediator. He's not super happy with Leo running off on his own all the time to hang out with Donnie considering it means interacting with April and Splinter, which he still doesn't trust. It's not until Raph starts tagging along (partly to make sure Splinter isn't gonna kidnap Leo too haha) that he starts agreeing more with Leo's stance on things and realizes that April and Splinter are pretty cool actually.

[after-nine-at-the-oasis]

I can't donate right now but I just have to say how much it warms my heart to see what the Lou/Bucktommy/9-1-1 fandom is doing right now. I didn't know till like ten minutes ago but this is so freaking cool

I've seen some other people sharing how it's important to them so I figured I'd throw a bit in myself.

This year has been pretty good for me. There's always rough stuff, but it is what it is. Then, due to some outside circumstances, I ended up way more isolated and lonely than usual. The other place I saw friends became more and more stressful, and I had no place to relax. Except at home, in the evenings, especially when I was watching my shows.

I attached to Bucktommy, hard. I don't truly know why, maybe it was Buck being bisexual and me seeing myself in him, or how sweet they are, or their story, or their acting, or even the hate they received. I don't know. I fell in love with them, and it devastated me when they broke up. I kept watching, I still enjoy 9-1-1. But after everything I'd been going through, including having walking pneumonia at the time, it was rough. I was shocked and angry and sad and already missing them and I was tired. But this community. This freaking community xd.

I go into the tag in the next few days? It's hoping for a helicopter crash, it's jokes, it's a lot of pregnancy lol. It was a bunch of people all going through sucky stuff, and going through sucky stuff with fictional characters too, but still just hanging out and making it worth it. I don't usually make a lot of close one-on-one friends with people in specific fandoms. But even though I don't personally talk to people a lot, I am so happy to be around you guys. I've admired from afar (and been happy with that), chatted about things, related to jumping over to S.W.A.T., been welcomed, participated in a gift exchange (which I haven't done in literal years, since my first fandom on Tumblr)! These characters, this storyline, this relationship, have built a wonderful community that I am so grateful to be a part of. And never have I been prouder than now. You guys are such wonderful people and you're doing such a wonderful thing with these donations.

Everyone who can, I recommend donating to The Trevor Project. I can't personally, but I love seeing what everyone's doing.

Also, I'd like to thank Lou for everything he did with Tommy. I'm so glad Tommy stole my heart, because now I watch S.W.A.T. for Lou and I've seen how much he cares about us and us caring about Tommy. I'm glad we all made sure he knew how much we love Tommy and him :).

Thanks for being amazing guys. Merry Christmas <3.

[ratstuckinamarble]

It's a lot less daunting than you'd think! I was super nervous the first time I posted a fanfic but everyone was super nice (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠) And listen. If you come up with enough to want to do this. I would adore it. You could think it's the worst thing you've ever written (though I sure hope you wouldn't), and it would still bring me so much joy.

But, that's kinda irrelevant. What matters is that you have fun with it. That it's worthwhile to you. I'll just be there to cheer you on ( ・⁠▽⁠・)⁠⊃♡

Dracugoona but it's G1 💗 need more of these moments in G3 🤭

[dootznbootz]

Wdym by the fanon penelope mom thing? Sorry I'm very tired my brain isn't functioning rn lol

No, you're fine! I'm realizing that probably doesn't make too much with how like, I phrased it xD

Penelope IS a mother figure, she IS a mother. A very loving one at that. AND I could see her being a maternal figure for others around her.

I kind of realized I like, probably interpreted it differently than most as like, my immediate thought was "Mom Friend".

And/or basically "caretaker". And I kind of blanked out for a moment as there's a common "theme" I've seen in characterizations of Penelope that fucking PISS me off >:(

I've noticed in some fanfic/fanworks, Penelope is more like Odysseus' fucking MOTHER than his wife/spouse. Literally making Odysseus a "man-child"

This intelligent and cunning around 50 year old husband/father/king/warrior/general/etc. is maybe reckless and "chaotic" sometimes. (as is my Penelope. Likeminded) but for Odysseus to be portrayed GENUINELY like he's stupid (like not meme/funnywise. that's fine/fun) and for her to just be constantly cleaning up after him? That's not a partnership, that's basically being a Parent.

Please know that like, if you do have Penelope "be the one with the braincell" and/or is the more "thoughtful" one, that is fine. It's simply when it's to the point where Penelope's his babysitter that it bothers meeeeee

I've read a few stories where I could replace "Penelope" with Anticlea/Euryclea in terms of how he treats him. (though just with more romantic language lol) And I hate it ;~;

They are not like an old sitcom with "bumbling dad and nagging mom".

Penelope would never love or stand for that. And HE would never want to make her feel that she HAS to.

THAT'S what those tags were about. I do not like that way too often people write Penelope as though she simply exists to take care of Odysseus, to be his wife. that common dynamic I see is reversed in my one fic because I was honestly a bit frustrated. So she's the one that needs to be taken care of/helped. (I'm sorry I nerfed you, my darling!!!) They're equally silly and supportive

I went on a goofy lil rant but ye ;~;

[theunknownmasks]

Dash Game: Behind the Mun

Name: Lulu/Bitch or Bootie-mun (old name from YGO fandom @thekingofdoorsbitch)

Most Active Muses: Lord I have a better time on discord getting the muses out but here we go. Lucifer, Stolas, Moxxie, Atem is always easy to get out, Bakura, Ryou, Yuugi. So far the easiest for me to throw out there.

Experience: I've been roleplaying for over 15+ years (I'm fucking 32 mfs). I'm an old bitch. We've been doing rps like old school in notebooks passing to partners in class, graduated to various web forums, myspace mostly where I got a lot of my experience or mypoetry.com, yahoo/skype/aol/fucking almost all the chatrooms that used to exist for messaging people, gaiaonline as well mostly as Sebastian Michaelis and Lelouch Lamperouge, to migrating to tumblr in 2015 or so time around then as a Lelouch from Code Geass, then discord is kinda a permanent home for when I'm not in the mood to be here or too tired and easier for me to reply to things at work.

Fluff, Angst, or Smut: Love them all! I'm a HUGE SUCKER FOR ANGST AND SMUT THO. Angst is where I write my BEST work. If you wanna cry or hurt your muse, plot the weirdest most fucked up shit I'm yo girl. All things are agreed on usually behind the scenes in DM's and I never do anything that the other mun doesn't like. Everything is always talked about BEFORE we write so that way no toes are stepped on unless we're new mutuals and I don't know you well enough what triggers you. I try my best however! Also love to be a horny hoe so...there's there lmao

Long or Short Replies: It depends honestly. Lot of times my muses direct how shit goes besides my mood. So if low mood it's small replies unless our chemistry is high or that muse is high. Sometimes I do long as well. Just like there to be something for me to answer to cause no one likes getting a reply you can't build off of.

Pet Peeves: Constantly pestering for responses unless we're really close like my wife. Wife has those privileges or my closest friends but please keep in mind I eventually get to them. The more you bug me the more I won't feel like replying to it. I hate to sound like that but, my energy comes and goes with depression so I'm working with what I got I'm also a grown adult with a job and about to be a supervisor so my stress is rather high. Really trying to work on it so please be patient. Also really do not like people who cannot separate mun and muse. Just because my character does something or agrees with something DOES NOT mean I do. Like I rp some villains and they have some very fucked up thoughts/feelings/opinions. This does not mean I support these ideas. For example I've written some VERY dark themes like forced sex, murder, suicide, etc (again all agreed on for plot and fun). I DO tag these and if you see anything you want me to tag please tell me directly. Communicate I'm not a mind reader and I don't expect you to be!

Are You Like Your Muse: A large few lmfao. I'm most like Luci, Mox, and Stolas. Big heart, super sensitive, chronically depressed lesbian but horny on the down low. Then I got a potty mouth XD like Inuyasha.

Time to Write: When my brain isn't being a fuck wad but mostly Fri's and Sat's or when I have time tbh.

Tagged by: @onehellishcollection (cute ass wife)

Tagging: YOU IDK WHO'S NOT DONE THIS??

[dukeoftheblackstar]

got any plo koon fic recs? looking for some new stuff that's good. one shots and long fics welcome! I'll take anything i can get

Shamelessly promoting my own:

Dom!Plo ask by yours truly, submitted by the lovely @mild-disorganization

Some tired dad!Plo headcanons maybe?

And for some that I have read and adored:

Plo Koon Masterlist by @my-head-is-an-animal (Mixed)

Thigh Kink with Plo by @saradika (NSFW)

Not a fic, but hella spice by @saradika (SFW & NSFW)

Friendship - Plo Koon & Wolffe by @wild-karrde (SFW)

PloKit Art (their entire blog) by @uiro-mgmg1 (NSFW - mostly art)

SFW & NSFW Alphabets for Plo by @samspenandsword

My favorite ♥:

Sovereign (PloKit, idk if you're into it, but I am) by @tits-fisto (NSFW but very wholesome)

The Tiniest Councilor by Quiet_Shadow (SFW)

Name and Soul by @decepticonsensual (SFW)

Haven't read but is on queue when I have the mood and will power to actually read and not thirst for our Kel Dor Emperor ♥

of claws and tusks by my bestiecakes ♥ @saengak <- Apparently, it's hella angsty and I reserve the angst for weekend when I'm not out here thirsting for this King.

in deditionem by my bestiecakes ♥ @saengak <- I've seen them write ♥, it makes me squeeeeeeee ♥

Helium by @cynderiaopus who also made my current bomb AF pfp of Plo steepling ♥

Other materials and interesting read:

@exosorcery has very interesting comics and posts about Kel Dors in general. Here's one specific of Plo Koon:

A few faves from them:

@veny-many for their AUs and Plo Koon & Wolfpack Art (also includes others) <- Presenting you the bebbis ♥

My faves:

The entire post AU 66 where Plo lives is a quintessential to any post AU 66 imho because I'm heavily invested in this and I'm about to cry because I need to organize my bookmarks (and update this) so I can give you the proper start to fin link.

I'd post more from @veny-many and @exosorcery, but if you spend a good 10 minutes scrolling, you'll be there forever. Quality art content!

You may also want to check World building and ConLang Kel Dor study, apart from their OC x Plo Koon art. Big thanks for this neat document by @plokoonsdisapprovingeyebrows

[[ @plokoonsdisapprovingeyebrows I hope it's okay to share. If not, I can take it down ♥ ]]

So far just these at the top of my head. Thank you for the Plo-related ask :D! I enjoyed sifting through my bookmarks ♥

Don't forget to give love and reblog, comment, follow these amazing people who do so much for the Plo Koon, Dorin, Kel Dor tags ♥

[lorifragolina]

Fleabags

I got a row in the @harringrovesummerbingo card! it's the first I wrote when I hadn't plan the others but I deferred the edit until now :) I'm just patting my back because I am editing surpisingly quick XD

Title: Fleabags

Square & Prompt: A1 "Wet towel"

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3794

Major Tags: WARNING IMPLICIT VIOLENCE,Harringrove, cats, rough sex, abusive home, twisted personality

Summary: Billy and Steve rescue a litter of kittens together. They softened Billy and make Steve feel in love. But Neil Hagrove's hand puts a shadow over them, making Billy hurt and cry, and making Steve taking steps to solve the situation. With fire and iron, if needed.

Read on AO3

Steve saw Billy run into the locker room and take a towel from the towel rack, so he followed him outside, too curious to miss it. 

He looked around and saw Billy at the side of the road, kneeling on the ground, and he got nearer. Billy was wrapping the towel carefully around a skinny, ruffled cat, and the towel was stained red. The little cat was bleeding from the mouth and the nose.

“What happened?” Steve knelt at Billy’s side. Billy's hands were shivering, and his voice was broken. 

“A car hit him, I just heard the brakes…”

The cat appeared seriously injured. He wasn’t moving and his breath was short and heavy. Billy was shocked. 

“Let's take him to the vet, come on,” Steve grabbed Billy’s arm. Suddenly, Billy raised a hand and listened.

A feeble weeping came from the side of the road. Steve kept the cat in the towel and Billy went searching in the short bushes.

“Shit!” he cursed, and Steve went to look: there was a carton box, wet and dirty, and four little kittens inside, crying out loud calling their mom. Their mom was laying half dead in the towel not far away.

Steve looked at Billy, but Billy kept his head low. Steve could see his upper lip trembling and his eyes taking a bitter, sad crease looking at those little things, the eyes still half closed and so unsure on their little paws.

Steve grabbed Billy’s arm again and shook him. 

“Come on, we have to go to the doctor with them, I’ll drive”.

Billy seemed reviving, and nodded. He passed a hand on his face and took the box with special care.

Steve drove to the vet and Billy kept comforting the cat mom on his knees during the road. 

“Come on, baby, your kittens are here, come on, be strong, we’re almost there”.

They sat while the vet took a look at the injured cat, lying rigid and suffering on the white towel; they tried to give her a shot touching her back, her paws, but all was useless. 

“The cat is dying, she has internal bleeding and she’s really weak to face a surgery,” said the doctor, and Billy whined. 

“But the kittens?” 

The doctor took one of the babies, red striped like the mother. “Well they can’t eat alone for the moment… they need the bottle every four or six hours”.

“I’ll do it”, said Billy vivaciously. He was pale and tired, but his look was sharp.

“We’ll do it,” nodded Steve, and Billy opened his mouth in surprise.

The vet gave them some milk for the babies and showed them how to feed them with a syringe, then they had to say goodbye to the mom. 

Billy took his wallet and counted some bills, concerned.

“Don’t worry, I’ll pay,” said Steve.

“No,” Billy finally took every bill in the wallet and gave it to the doctor. “I can pay,” he said, stubborn, putting the empty wallet back in the pocket. 

Steve didn’t insist, but when they stopped at the supermarket to buy some necessary supplies, he played when Billy wasn’t looking. 

“Will you take them to your house?” asked Steve, a little doubtful, recalling some of the talks of the kids about Max’s house.

Billy hesitated. He got out of Steve’s car in the school parking lot and carefully put the box on the passenger seat.

“I… I don’t know. I can’t take them in the house… but I will manage somehow".

“We can take them in my house,” suggested Steve.

“You already did enough, there’s no need”.

“You can’t keep them in the car or outdoors,” he insisted.

Billy sighed, then nodded reluctantly. He followed Steve to his mansion and waited at the gate with the box in his arms. 

“Here,” Steve made way. “My mother wouldn’t let them in the house but they can stay in the shed, nobody uses it,” Steve opened a little metal door in a sort of storehouse. “They’ll be fine here”.

“But I have to take care of them”

“We both can take care of them,” said Steve diplomatically. “Anyway you can enter from the backyard, the door isn’t closed”.

Billy placed the box in a sheltered corner. Steve took all the things they bought and they set a comfortable home for the babies. Billy cleaned them and petted them a little, giving them some more food, until they finally curled up warmly together and fell asleep. 

“Poor babies without your mummy,” he whispered, covering them, in a low voice, convinced that Steve didn’t hear him. 

“They’ll need the next feed at 4 am…” he said then.

“I can take care of it”.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be here”.

“You can rest,” insisted Steve.

“I’ll take care,” growled Billy, and Steve shooked his head for the fucking stubbornness. 

“Ok, whatever”.

Billy went home, and Steve closed the garage looking at the Camaro going away raising a dust cloud. He didn’t think he would ever say that side of Billy.

“Fleabags'' was the collective name Billy gave to all the four kittens; they were too little to think to definitive names, he said, and probably he didn’t want to growing fond; too late, thought Steve, because he was always on time even in the night to feed, clean and comfort the babies. Steve tried to wake up to help him, but he always found Billy already there with the kittens on him, smiling and baby talking with them. The four fleabags cried a lot for their dimensions, and their little claws were sharp and pointy, but Billy was very attached to them, he was determined not to let them die. It was a little difficult to conciliate the feed hours with the school, but they took turns and somehow they could do it. The kittens opened their eyes completely and started to crawl more confidently in the box and try to jump out, so they changed the box with a bigger one and stayed large minutes looking at their little brats, jammed. 

Steve looked at the secret, tender smile Billy gave the babies, and once or twice he caught his look and his smile too. They didn’t talk much, but Billy appeared more relaxed at his side, now that they were sharing that task and that secret.

Steve’s parents came home and Steve kept his mouth shut about the garage, then after a couple of weeks they went away again.

The kitten kept growing and became louder and fluffier, and really clinged to Billy; Steve felt a little jump of his heart when he saw Billy smile and make faces to the babies.

One time, they sat side by side with a cat each, while the other two were wandering near them. Billy raised the kitty, kissing him sweetly on the pink little nose, and he crossed Steve’s eyes looking at him, charmed. Billy stopped smiling, incapable of taking off his own look, and Steve put a hand on his tight, getting closer. He closed his eyes, reaching Billy’s lips, but Billy made a little noise and flinched a little. 

Steve stopped, and looked again to him; Billy gulped, sighed and nodded imperceptibly. His eyes were glossy and sad, he was shivering a little and blinking.

It wasn’t a rejection, otherwise he would mock and insult Steve loudly, it was more a “I would, but I can’t” look, a mix of fear and sadness that made Steve’s heart sink. 

They didn’t talk about that and they had never talked about Billy’s house, but Steve suddenly understood some of Billy’s erratic behavior lately. He would say he was sorry but he wouldn't ruin the feeble  friendship they were building with difficulty. 

Billy went away that night without a word, and the next day all returned to normal, apparently; but Steve kept looking at him furtively and noticing some little, sweet things that drew him more to Billy

Then, a night Billy didn’t come; Steve waited a little at the window and then went himself to attend to the kittens; he put some kitten food in a bowl and they ate by themself for the first time. He was thrilled to share that milestone with Billy, and he stayed an hour with them, but Billy didn’t appear. It was strange for him, but maybe he had just overslept.

Steve was about to go to bed when he heard the Camaro parking in the back; he looked from the window and saw Billy opening the gate, walking not really straight, and he gasped when Billy passed under the street light; he could see his face bleeding, a dark circle around one eye and bruises on his neck.

“Shit,” he shivered, and took a wet towel going to the garage. 

He found Billy sitting against the wall with two cats in his lap, hiding his face and sobbing.

Billy jumped when he heard the door opening, and he lowered his head trying to wipe the tears; Steve sighed seeing the cuts in his face and the dried blood and the bruises, but the worst thing was he looked defeated and desperate.

“Billy…” he whispered, kneeling at his side, gently passing the towel on the cuts. Billy whined and moved his head. “What’s happened?” Steve found himself hoping he just had a random fistfight out there, rather than thinking about the reality. Billy’s face started swelling up and the beat appeared more savage than at the beginning.

“Billy,” whispered Steve again. “Shit…” he glimpsed the bruises under his shirt, the marks on his chest, like the mark of a boot in his ribs. “Who did…” he said, but Billy cried again and he shot up. 

He felt stupid, stupid and inattentive, because he realized it wasn’t the first time he saw bruised like those on Billy’s face and body, but he never paid really attention, thinking he deserved it in some fight or, if sometimes he thought he could be abused at home, he only checked if Max was wounded too, but never really took care of Billy.

Steve took the cats, already fed and attended, and raised a hand to Billy, helping him stand up and pushing him gently into the house. Billy kept crying quietly and Steve clenched his fists, trying to calm down his boiling blood.

“I just came home a little late,” babbled Billy after a while, and Steve instinctively hugged him, provoking another fit of tears.

“It’s ok, Billy, don’t worry… you can stay here. I’ll take care of… this”.

Billy nodded, but he released Stevs hug, curling in an armchair. Steve sat on the sofa at his side and they fell asleep after a while, without touching each other. 

The cats had definitely learnt to eat alone, but Billy kept going to check them in the evening after dinner, when he could sneak out of his house; Steve always looked at him with certain concern, worried about the scars that were slowly fading on his face.

The next Friday, he saw Billy leant to the Camaro, in the arcade parking lot, smoking nervously while waiting for Max. He was jumping from one foot to the other and grumbling, knowing that it was getting late. When Max came out of the place with the boys, Steve stopped them to talk about the plans they had for the weekend. He saw the same worry in Max, who was looking furtively at a fuming Billy waiting for her, but he kept talking with her until Billy started screaming.

“Max! Max, for Christ’s sake! Come on!”

Steve knew they had a curfew, even in summer, and the consequences of breaking it, but he walked MAx to Billy, putting on a friendly face.

“We’re just talking, Hargrove. Do you have plans for the weekend? You can join us if you want”.

Billy threw away his cig and looked at Steve with a mix of rage and panic. Max entered the car, but Steve stayed in his way a minute more.

“I fucking need to go, Harrington,” he growled, and Steve smiled, raising his hand. 

Billy screeched the wheels, while Steve kept smiling and took his car too, going in the opposite direction.

“Stupid shitty Harrington,” whined Billy, looking at the clock. They were so fucking late and Max was panicking too. She grabbed the handle while Billy speeded up insanely, going through a couple lights and cursing

Obviously he didn’t see the police car hiding behind a curve, and he cried when he saw the light and the siren.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he grabbed the steering wheel, and Max cried softly.

Hopper knocked on his windowpane and Billy smiled. “Problems, officer?”

“Come with me.” Billy whined loudly, following the sheriff to the police station.

They were so dead. Neal didn’t care if they were late for a flat wheel or an accident, and he would be really pissed when he’d know the police stopped him again for speeding.

“Officer, please, can you just give me the fine and let us go?”, said Billy after a while, after Hopper lectured him once again about driving dangerously. They were late, now, so late, and Max was whining and fidgeting in her chair. It was friday and she was afraid of being grounded all the weekend, Neal would be so satisfied to punish them… 

Hopper took the phone. “She’s a minor and I have to call her parents”.

Being late would be bad, but if Neal would answer a call from the police, he would beat him to a pulp. Billy looked at the clock, at that hour his father was surely at home.

He looked Hopper waiting at the phone, scared, but he hung up after a while. Susan was in her night shift and if Neal still wasn’t at home, maybe they still had a little opportunity.

“I’m an adult, officer, and she’s my sister, so please, just fine me and…”

The telephone rang. Hopper answered, then he sent the call in his office, closing the door. Billy considered if they could run away, but Hopper was looking at them through the window, concerned.

“Come on, let’s go,” he said then, pushing them in the car. He drove until the old road near the mill; Callahan was already there with the light flashing, near the ambulance. 

“Stay in the car!” ordered Hopper, and they could see a thin wisp of smoke and the firemen around a burnt car. It appeared completely destroyed and black, and the smell of gas and kerosene filled the air. 

Hopper was looking at his car, shaking his head. He opened the door. 

“You, come on. No, you stay,” he closed the door on Max’s nose. 

Billy got near and could look better at the bone of the car. Hopper prevented him from getting near the driver window and dragged him to the back.

“Do you know this car?”

Billy felt his head spin, and he grasped Hopper unintentionally. 

“It’s my father's plate…” he said, before fainting in the sheriff’s arms.

He didn’t really remember what happened after that. Hopper took them home, someone called Susan and they waited for her at home. 

She took the news surprisingly calmly, but she pointed at Billy, whispering to the agents. 

“Witness said your husband left work at 5.30, and… the kids were with me at that moment”.

Billy clenched his fists. He couldn’t realize well what’d happened, but Neal’s car had a hit in the back and he eavesdropped that the body had the head smashed before burning, so it wasn’t an accident. He was hurted that Susan could think he had something to do with that, so when she and Max went to a friend to sleep, he didn’t go with them.

“You can sleep at home now, but please, come tomorrow morning to the station,” said Hopper. “Ehi,” he grabbed his arm. “Don’t worry. You’re not suspected of anything, never mind what she said, she’s shocked”.

Billy sat on his bed, alone, in a trance, looking at the void. Then took his jacket, still smelling of gas and burnt, and left the house.

Steve heard him open the garage’s door. He found him standing on the door, looking in the void, breathing really low, pale, smelling awfully and shocked.

“Billy? What’s the matter?”

Steve tried to get near him, and Billy oddly noticed he was freshly showered, smelling of soap and shampoo.

“My… father…” he whispered, incapable of finding the words. “He… had… an accident”.

“Oh? And how is he?”

“He… he’s gone,” Billy’s voice was almost inaudible. 

“Oh. Oh, shit. Come on, come with me”.

Steve grabbed him gently and dragged him into the house.

It was hot inside, Billy felt the smell of smoke and kerosene but it was stuck in his clothes and in his nose, and saw that the chimney had been recently used, so probably Steve had used some starter… It was odd how his brain was registering stupid things trying not to think of the “big” thing.

“How do you feel?” said Steve,  handling him a glass of water.

“Free,” said Billy suddenly. 

Steve nodded. “Indeed you’re free”.

Billy looked away and saw a piece of fabric in the chimney, but he was too confused to think. 

Steve had a grin on his face. “People like him have to burn in hell”.

Billy smiled a little too. He knew he had to feel sorry for his father’s death, but he couldn’t. He was shaking. 

He was free. No more curfew. No more beating. No more insults. No more… he clenched his fists again and cried. The tears ran on his face slowly, almost quietly, without a whine. 

Steve took him in his arms and hugged him. Then he took his face in his hands and dried his tears. 

Billy, finally, nodded, and closed the distance between them, kissing him, shily at first, then deeply and then again ferally, that time crying out loud, devouring Steve’s mouth, pressing all his body against his. 

He was free. He felt free. He was free and excited and… euphoric and Steve laughed out loud, throwing away their shirts.

He grabbed Billy’s belt and dragged him up the stairs, on his bed. He opened Billy’s pants and whined while taking them away. He undressed himself too and grinned their hard cocks together. 

“No,” said Billy. “No foreplay, Steve,” he urged, with a harsh, broken voice. 

Steve had a ferocious grin on his face when he lubed Billy’s ass with two fingers, and groaned wildly when he placed his tip on Billy’s rim.

“Fuck me, please, now,” begged Billy, turning on his stomack and Steve fucked him.

Billy felt he was broken in two in pain. Steve’s dick was ripping him apart, raw and barely lubed. He felt every inch of his skin tearing, Steve’s cock rummaging in his guts, while his body tried to resist and push him away.

It was painful. It was wild. 

He was free. 

He felt everything in his body and he wanted to cry and scream, he pressed his face on the pillow to bear the pain. Steve kept thrusting at his back, fucking him, and it was�� it was the first time he felt his body really his’. He had fucked multiple men in motel beds or cars and everytime he thought if his father could smell his queerness, could feel he had a man inside, and he wasn’t free. He had always been in danger, but… not that time. While he was suffering for Steve inside him, he was… completely free. His body was nobody else’s, he was so grounded and conscious of it he felt almost dizzy.

Steve reached his dick and pumped it, murmuring obscenities at his ear. Billy was crying but Steve made him hard again, hitting his prostate and his dick at the same time. 

“Cum for me, baby, let me feel how you do it…” Steve purred in his ear, and Billy couldn’t resist. He came in Steve’s hand and passed away, and regained consciousness when Steve grabbed his hips and broke him with the last pushes, coming inside him. 

He couldn't open his eyes when Steve came out of him, and he felt his cum dripping on his own legs. 

“We need… to check the cats,” he whispered.

“They’re fine,” answered Steve.

“No, we need to check…”

Steve pushed him on the bed with a hand, firmly, almost hurting him. Billy opened his eyes wide.

Steve let him go. “Ok, if you want”.

The cats were sleeping with the full belly, they ate by themselves, but Billy lightly touched them as he wanted to check they were still alive. Steve’s cum kept running on his legs when they returned to the house, making him sure it was real. The smell of fuel he kept smelling made him a little sick. It was stronger in the house, and he felt uncomfortable in his clothes. 

“Let’s go to bed again”, Steve gently took Billy’s hand when he looked at the chimney.

Billy followed him and lied again on the bed. Steve took him again, and again, with and without foreplay, wildly, ignoring his whining of pain and his tears. Billy felt he was maneuvering and manipulateing his body, moving him and taking him, marking him with his fingers, his teeth, his cum, but it wasn’t a torture like before, like with his father. 

When Steve finished, he left Billy spreaded and leaking on the bed, barely awake. He went down to the living room, he made sure the fire in the chimney had burned all his clothes, soaked in blood and kerosene, then cleaned the ashes and buried them under the roses in the garden. 

He took a last look at the car, it had a dent on the front but he managed to hit a garbage container in front of the party, earlier that afternoon in the arcade parking lot, before going to chase Neil Hargrove’s car.

He knew Hopper’s habit to hide near the road late in the afternoon to catch kids speeding, and knew that if Billy had been late he would push the gas, creating an alibi for him.

He checked the trunk just to be sure, although he left the kegs near the car after setting it on fire, and he threw the iron bar in the lake. 

He nodded, everything was fine, finally.

He returned to the bedroom, and gently passed a wet towel on Billy’s tortured body, cleaning the sweat, the drool and the cum. Billy whined, incapable of opening his eyes.

“Shh, baby, quiet, rest, baby,” he chanted a little, taking his place at Billy’s side, caressing his body under the sheets. 

“You’re free now”.

[lalaurelia]

2024 Fic in Review

It's this time of the year when I do this thing with my fics again. It's going to be a bit different now since I unexpectedly have two fandoms I've written for, wow. Also I'll be including all languages (and extra creations such as games) in these stats.

Here goes~

total number of completed stories: For Gotham it's 7 fics, 1 game, and 1 minigame, 1 CYOA, 2 collages for a fandom event. For Bungou Stray Dogs it's 6 fics that are completed and 1 that's still ongoing.

total word count: For Gotham it's 33323 words. For BSD it's 18791.

fandoms written in: Gotham and Bungou Stray Dogs. I did NOT expect to have a new fandom this year. But I was feeling very low after the fandom event in summer, so BSD and Shin Soukoku were a godsend for me.

looking back, did you expect to write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d expected? Honestly? This wasn't a good year for creativity for me. I was working very hard to release the game, then there was that fandom event that drained me completely, on top of work and world events keeping happening. I kinda hoped I'd write something, but I suppose it's a small miracle I wrote anything at all.

what’s your own favorite story of the year? This is kinda hard. I guess I'll name Pierced, because it was the one that pushed me into writing for BSD, it was very insistent in my mind and wanted to be out.

did you take any writing risks this year? Yeah, writing for Bungou Stray Dogs XD It's been ages since I've written for anime fandoms, and like, before Gotham I was convinced I had no writing skills. And I was worried if maybe all my skills were Gotham-induced. But I like what I've managed to write for BSD so far~

do you have any fanfic or profit goals for the new year? I never know what is meant by profit goals here XD For fics I hope to finish at least some of my WIPs, and maybe participate in an event, if it's nice. I'll be staying away from Fandom Kombat though, likely, it's demotivating for me.

best story of the year? I do love how Kisses Communication turned out.

most popular story of the year? For Gotham it's Pieces. For BSD it's Marks and Meanings. Both splendid choices, if I do say so myself XD

story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion: Oh no. I can't be objective here. I'll name Dogs Bite, but it was a completely self-indulgent story so I'm not surprised it's not to everyone's liking.

most fun story to write: A Solo Act was plenty fun to write~

story with the single sexiest moment: A Solo Act, yes.

sweetest story: I suppose it's going to be What Dreams Are Made Of. It's a bit sappy, but why not XD

“holy crap, thats wrong, even for you!” story: Yeah, I'm traditionally skipping this one. There are no wrong things in fiction. Write whatever the hell you want, just tag it correctly.

story that shifted my own perceptions of the characters & most unintentionally telling story: Not sure about telling, but I love finding new sides to both Akutagawa and Atsushi in Seekers, Finders. It's an interesting journey and I'm curious where it will lead~

hardest story to write: Not sure. I have troubles with Gotham's Of Lilies and Borrowed Clothes, but that's due to it being a case-fic and also an experiment in a thing I wanted to try, plus a lot of specific research and a bit of being discouraged.

biggest disappointment: I shouldn't have participated in Fandom Kombat as it sapped my motivation way too much. Like, I know that for Gotham I write for myself, predominantly, but it was still very discouraging. Also I got tired of writing in Russian for it.

biggest surprise: How big a surge of inspiration Bungou Stray Dogs turned out to be. It's like being on fire, and also being insane. I love it. Shin Soukoku saved the remainders of my sanity this year and I'm so, so grateful for all you guys who read my writings~

I don't know who to tag at this point, but I'll be curious to see if you guys do year reviews of your stories.

[makoredeyes]

Keep it coming you say? 👀 I saw that tag! I'm ~quite~ bored, so here's a couple questions/whatever they're considered, lol.

Yes, flattery will get me very far here, indeed! To where? I do not know, but whatever, compliments! You deserve them. I'm rather sure my friends are tired of hearing me go on and on about destiny characters, ':)

How's your writing wip's going so far? I'm waiting very (im)patiently for any updates, I've totally not re-read everything forty-two times.. hope their all going well!

A little self indulgence here, but I like to think Andal Brask was the Hunter Vanguard when Osiris and Saint-14 were in, because.. come on, I'm rather sure the time frame adds up. I like to believe before, because their dynamic just seems really fun to me. Lots of great opportunities. (I partly blame that one fanart sylenth-l made of Andal and Osiris for this, it was really funny). What do you think their dynamic would be like?

What do you think it'd be like if the Iron Lords mysteriously came back alive? 👀 I'm talking, SIVA couldn't actually kill them because their ghosts hid in the light in their bodies, and SIVA only goes after non-organic materials right? Maybe it couldn't work it's way into the light, and as long as their ghost + light are intact, = alive. But *only* after the Warmind managed to get control over SIVA and free their physical bodies from harm? It's a thought I had, influenced by a few fics but I quite like the idea. Just imagine, a ghostless, lightless Osiris receiving word that maybe, they weren't as dead as he thought they were. Or Fel and Timur coming back only to realize what happened to Osiris?? Poor Sagira?? Learning lady Efrideet's alive? 👀 (Is that her name?)

Or perhaps, In this one fic, it's Timur and his special, take over your will little stunt he has, was keeping SIVA at bay, I think that's pretty neat too! So many possibilities! (If you were the one that wrote these, I hope you see this as a compliment cause I am not about to go dig through Ao3 to find them xD)

Either way, it'd be like a modern!au of the iron lords, for them at least, hah (I can just imagine Gheleon having a mental breakdown that their memorial involved fighting one another)

I can't really think of anything, but rest assured I will *probably* be back once I'm dome tormenting my poor boy Tevis

Ahaha yeesss YESSSS I feed me I'm such an attention whore lmao RIP XD. (fr tho bless you ;_; )

I am writing! There are longer gaps between posts rn because I have lots going on in my life, but also, because I am working on many fics at once. I counted the other day I have 26 WIPs but six I am actively working on in concert - three for Housefire that are all directly intermingled plot and timing-wise to the point where I'm not even entirely sure what order I'll be posting them in yet, another chapter for Things Found (I am trying to stay 2 chapters ahead with that to make sure I have a cohesive story for it), and two XXX stand-alone one-shots! I should fish out another teaser for everyone soon. I think it'll be one of the one-shots that makes it out next tbh they're the furthest along. But the naughty stuff is also the slowest to get written bc I yanno...can't write that stuff at work, etc. haha. But I've felt a new wind of motivation lately for writing and am picking away at these projects pretty regularly. <3

I'm going to admit I am not very well-read on the hunter squad in general, BUT iirc I believe Andal was Vanguard during the City Age. He was definitely around as I recall his presence in the comics. The problem with that time is that Osiris was largely absent. This was when the Cult of Osiris was gaining traction, and Osiris' obsession with the Darkness and the Vex was really heating up. He was neglecting his duties to the Vanguard (with Ikora often standing in as proxy for him) and he wasn't really paying attention to anyone else. Like. At all. There was a lot of unhappy tension even with Saint at that time. Andal, by all accounts, was a damn good fella though, and while I think just about everyone nettled Osiris, Andal also stuck up for him where he could. Even if Osiris couldn't appreciate that in the moment I'm sure he would come to later. I look at Osiris and see him as he is now, with some hard lessons learned and some hard losses under his belt, realizing a little too late some of the damn good souls he had in his court, Andal included. All of that said, 100% in a lighter, easier setting, a free-spirit like Andal (and/or Cayde...heaven forbid them both together!) would drive a stuffed shirt like Osiris up an absolute freaking wall with pure comical results, hands down.

(a side note, a brain storm, an insane thought that just poisoned my brain - a sweeter moment hidden from time: Andal's guitar and this gift of song Saint has hinted Osiris has....??????! I'm not melting it's just hot in here, right???)

As for Ironsbane and SIVA... I have INDEED put an awful lot of thought into this. Quite a lot. So much. I have my own ideas on ways to circumvent the disaster, O Reader Mine, but you're going to have to wait a while longer for me to write it. :3 (Housefire is, after all, ultimately, a fixit )

*but no SIVA attacks whatever it is programmed to, organic or not: and Rasputin set it on hundreds of Iron Lords and wiped them all out with the sole exception Efrideet and Saladin with the directives “REPLICATE, ELIMINATE, IMMUNIZE” it was not what SIVA was made to do but he deliberately repurposed it into a weapon. (I could go on for years about Rasputin and his darker epochs, but especially his misappropriation of SIVA lol)

** Your mention of Timur and his spooky skills DID remind me of another fic I need to get back to as well OTL TT_TT I still have requests I took in January I have yet to complete. At this rate it's going to take me all year to get them all done and by then I'll be taking more aahaha whuups.

[dandelion-wings]

Hello!! Could you do sayu or amber for the whump prompt thing? As for the prompt it doesnt really matter to me what you choose, as long as i get to see suffering :D

Thank you for the ask! :> I chose Amber because I'm more comfortable writing her when I don't have twenty wiki tags open (the first third of this was written on my phone), and as is traditional when told to choose a prompt I used a randomizer, which got me, "23 - Fever, passing out, “Hey?! Stay with me, okay?!”"

It's honestly not that whumpy because fever just isn't, for me, and to add to that it's very difficult for me to whump Amber. I don't like breaking down really cheerful characters too much. XD;; But hopefully it works as hurt/comfort, at least!

---

ETA: Now on AO3.

---

Amber knows she shouldn't have taken this mission.

She was a little stuffed up already when she and the Reconnaissance Company returned from escorting that caravan to Liyue Harbor. This morning she'd woken more congested, and tired, and dizzy when she first rose.

But the dizziness had passed by the time she got to the Ordo, and then Sir Kaeya said, *"Don't you think that's a little too arduous for our Outrider? She just came back from a long trek, after all,"* and Master Jean smiled at Amber and said, *"Have more confidence in her, Kaeya. I know she's capable,"* and Amber had been determined to prove her right and him wrong.

Now she's crouched high on a cliff in Dadaupa Gorge, looking down on the Eclipse Tribe's encampment and resentfully wishing that Master Jean had agreed with Kaeya, just this once.

On top of her streaming nose, her throat feels like it's been scraped raw, and her stomach roils with nausea. Worse yet, though, is the growing ache in her joints and weakness in her muscles. It had taken far too much effort to clamber up the cliff, and she'd collapsed in a heap at the top. She doesn't know what to do if the hilichurls examining her tracks at the bottom realize where she's gone.

Amber doesn't *leave* tracks. She's a far better Outrider than that. All her skills, though, are no match for the dizziness, which had returned with a vengeance and sent her stumbling into a bush, hence drawing the hilichurls' attention.

The only upside is that at least she's confirmed what she was sent to investigate. The hilichurl fighters at the base of the cliff have masks painted with the marks of all three tribes in the Gorge, not just the Eclipse Tribe alone. Just as suspected, the tribes have joined forces.

Which means there's an Abyss Mage somewhere around. Amber squints towards the high, raised hut at the back of the encampment. Since she can't see a Mage out in the center, giving orders, that must be where it's holding court.

Should she try to glide down behind it, out of sight, and see what she can learn? Amber doesn't know a lot of hilichurlian, but Lisa suggested once that learning some would help her scout, so she's paged through Ella Musk's notes. And if she can get a good look, sometimes Kaeya can figure out more of a Mage's plan from what rituals it's doing and how the hilichurls react to it--though he won't *teach* Amber any of that, because he's a jerk.

It's worth trying, Amber decides. The hilichurls at the base of the cliff are spreading out to either side, still searching for her on the ground rather than thinking to look up. The shakiness she'd felt when she first got up here is finally fading. Staying low so she can't be seen from the ground, Amber starts to crawl along the curved top of the cliff.

Which is when the Abyss Mage makes its appearance, directly beside her. It points and shrieks in hilichurlian. The hilichurls below take up the cry, rushing around the foot of the cliff to its lower end.

Now that she's been revealed, there's no point in staying low any longer. Amber scrambles to her feet and breaks into a run--or tries to. The dizziness sweeps through her again, and she stumbles, staggering across the grass at far too slow a speed. The Mage vanishes from behind her and pops up ahead, between her and the bushes she'd been aiming for, laughing mockingly.

This one is a Cryo Mage, pale blue and white. Its look and laughter reminds her, not for the first time, of Kaeya's furry ruff and condescending chuckle. Except Kaeya, jerk or not, never sounds so cruel.

Amber starts to veer off course, away from it, then stops as a thought forces its way through her stuffed head. It's a *Cryo* Mage.

Taking as deep a breath as her raw throat will let her, Amber reaches into the pouch at her side and pulls out a Baron Bunny. It expands to full size in her hand as she sends Pyro surging through the alchemical array Albedo had laid into it, as he does all of her replica Bunnies. She hurls it down the slope towards the slowly-ascending hilichurls, then turns back to the Mage as she nocks an arrow to her bow.

Another surge of Pyro lights its tip, and she lets it fly. The Mage, seeing it going wide, drifts a little sideways, cackling even more nastily, but doesn't pop away. Amber's face burns at its rude jeers.

So do the bushes behind it, when the arrow goes flying through their branches.

The Mage shrieks in fury and surprise as it's caught in the conflagration. Amber looses another arrow as its shield pops, pinning it to the ground. Then, as the Baron Bunny explodes behind her, she flings herself down and rolls down the slope, past the disoriented hilichurls, towards the low edge that rises from the center of the Gorge.

Most of the way there she catches up on a rock. Amber takes a deep breath--her chest burning with the effort of it--shoves herself to her feet, scrambles up the rock, and, as she hops clumsily off it, yanks the pullcord of her glider. Then she's in the air.

No amount of dizziness can make her clumsy when she's gliding. Amber aims for a thick stand of trees, loops wide around it, then veers into it as soon as she's sure she's out of sight. She aims for the tallest, broadest pine and pulls the cord again at just the right moment to avoid being tangled in the branches.

There's an alarming moment where Amber grabs at a branch and feels the same shakiness in her arms that had afflicted her at the top of the cliff. She manages to haul herself over it, though, and then, breathing shallowly and moving slowly to avoid any sound, creeps up against the trunk.

Leaning back against the treetrunk with her legs pulled up in front of her, Amber presses her nose to her knees to further muffle her stuffy breathing, closes her eyes, and listens. The hilichurls, recovering, come charging up to the stand of trees and then past it, waving clubs and yelling to each other as they go. The sound of them brushing through the grass fades away.

She stays still and silent. A moment later, there's the *pop* of a Mage appearing at the center of the stand. It hisses softly to itself, incantation or imprecation, and a chill floats upwards as it presumably bobs around amid the trees. Ice crackles and branches rustle violently as icicles stab through a couple bushes, and then, thankfully, the Mage pops away again.

Amber hadn't been certain. Not completely. But her gamble had paid off. It seems that even Abyss Mages don't look up.

This close to their camp, with the hilichurls riled, she can't take off right away. The hilichurls and Cryo Mage might have moved on, but she can hear the distant shouts of others joining the search, and the Mage is clever enough to set up an ambush along the easiest routes back to Mondstadt. Amber will need another route, and she'll need cover before she takes it.

It's only a couple of hours until dark. She'll have to scale the cliff nearby, which will make her visible to archers until then, but Amber did get a look at the ground from the top before the Mage appeared. She can visualize a route up to Dragonspine that will take her to the Adventurer's Guild camp at the base. As long as she times it right, she has a way out.

Until then, the best thing to do is rest, so that she'll be in physical shape to make that climb in silence. She can't let some dizzy moment give her away again. Amber readjusts her position on the branch to be a little more secure, then settles in to rest.

---

At some point she starts to fall asleep. She realizes only as she's halfway through falling out of the tree, waking at the sudden swooping motion. Instinct has her grabbing for a handhold; training and long habit let her get one, finding a knot and jerking to a stop before she falls noisily into the bushes below. She does squeak in surprise, then bites her tongue.

It's twilight, nearly nightfall. Amber hangs there for a moment, her arm aching, to be sure no hilichurl or Mage has noticed the squeak and might come to investigate. Then she pulls herself back up. It isn't just her arm that aches; all of her muscles feel sore, though she hasn't been pushing herself that hard, and there's a sharp ache in her joints. Her stuffed head aches, too, and her throat burns when she opens her mouth to draw more breath than she can through her nose. Worst of all, she's hot enough to have sweated through her clothes, and now the growing evening breeze feels bitterly cold. She's shivering violently.

*Stupid* of her. Amber feels tears sting her eyes. She knows better than to use Pyro when she's sick! Now she has a fever, and it's her own fault.

Which doesn't change that she has to make an escape. It only means that it's more urgent. Her shivering is bad enough that she doesn't think she could accurately aim if she got into a fight, and she'll be slowed down if she has to run on foot. Until she's someplace she can glide from, stealth is her only option.

Amber clings to the tree trunk, no longer trusting her perch, and waits for it to get fully dark. As the twilight dims, torches are lit in the hilichurl camp, their flickering visible above the pointed tips of the palisades at the front. None glow in the commanding hut the Cryo Mage would have claimed, which suggests it's still there.

Suggests, but doesn't guarantee. Mages are tricky, nasty creatures. Amber will have to keep a sharp eye out.

Once it's fully dark, she slowly, carefully lets herself down from the tree. She can already feel that alarming shakiness by the time she reaches the bottom. Climbing the cliff is out. That means going around, which is going to expose her longer--but at least there's bushes along the base of the cliff that will give her more cover, as long as she doesn't trip over them again.

Determined not to repeat her mistakes, Amber sets out.

She creeps along the base of the cliff, one hand on the stone to keep her steady, going slow and careful around the bushes. For all her efforts, they rustle a little when she brushes them. Amber pauses each time and holds her breath until she's certain there's no alarm.

Once she reaches the place where the base of the cliff meats the ground she crouches down, still going slow, making sure she's not right on the edge where she's visible, and makes her way up. There's a cluster of torches ahead, right on the edge, a group of hilichurls looking down--keeping an eye out in case she'd decided to try and make a break across the ground below for the road that leads up to the Forgotten Sword Cemetery.

Fortunately, that watch is focused that way, though a couple of them have gotten distracted and are chatting with each other instead of looking out. Amber crouches lower and goes wide around them. There's a large rock at their backs that's well out of her way, but makes for excellent cover.

When she's beyond it, and hopefully beyond their sight, she straightens up. The shift sends a wave of vertigo through her, and she sways, staggering. Maybe it's the movement that catches one's eye; maybe it was just looking that way already, and would have seen her no matter what. Either way, it shouts to its comrades, and suddenly Amber is once again being charged by a gang of hilichurls.

She breaks into a stumbling run, her balance wavering, her head pounding with every step. The hilichurls are close behind her and gaining. There's no way she can escape in this state, nearly tripping twice, catching herself both times but slow and getting slower-

The little rock comes out of nowhere. Amber's foot hits it and her ankle turns; she falls, collapsing to the ground, and struggles to roll and face the hilichurls. She fumbles for a Baron Bunny and manages to pull it out of its pouch, but it falls from her hands as she expands it, far too close. Amber tries to scoot backwards as it begins to dance.

Charging in, the hilichurls strike at it with clubs, some blazing. Amber scrambles back further on her bottom, almost clear of its blast radius--and then someone else comes charging in from behind her, swinging a blazing blade. "Get outta here!" Bennett yells, just as the hilichurl he's aiming at falls forward, stumbling into the Baron Bunny, and Bennett comes down perfectly on both of them.

Baron Bunny explodes, flinging Bennett back. He lands on Amber, shielding her from the worst of the heat, though she feels her headband flare into flames and pats it hastily out. Groaning, he pushes himself up off her lap and springs back to his feet.

"Ow... don't worry! I've got this!" he adds, irrepressible as always, and leaps into the air. As he slams back down, a flickering red field spreads out from his landing point, catching Amber in its aegis.

"Don't," Amber yelps, too late, as the wave of Pyro energy washes over her. She can feel her sinuses clear in a sharp flare of pain, like eating a Jueyun Chili, and some of the ache rises from her joints, while the cold night air is replaced by enveloping warmth and her shivering abruptly stops. The flush of heat rolling through her, though, is ominous. Pyro healing is no better for fevers than Pyro use.

She tries to get to her feet and fails. The world is swimming in front of her, the vertigo all the worse despite the release of pressure in her ears. 'Up' and 'down' feel as wavery as Bennett in the Inspiration Field's light, beating off the hilichurls.

He manages that, at least, turning a few to smoke and shadow and sending the rest fleeing for the camp. He turns to Amber with a grin that fades in time with his Inspiration Field, then sheathes his sword and drops down to one knee behind her.

"Aww, man, you don't look too good." He reaches out to put a hand on her forehead, and his expression falls further. "You're burning up! Sorry, I didn't mean to get you caught up in my bad luck."

"It's not your fault," Amber manages, the words coming out thick and slow. There's a growing haze over her thoughts, and she feels like the world is tipping around her. "But we've got to get out of here. There's more hilichurls, and a Cryo Mage."

"Okay! We aren't far from the camp, I just got a little lost tonight getting there... but I'll get you there for sure! My bad luck has already been your good luck once, right? Sort of, anyway."

"It definitely was," Amber tells him, more stoutly than she feels, and lets him pull her to her feet.

Getting her upright takes more effort than she'd expected, or thinks Bennett had expected, either, and once she's up she sways so much that he immediately puts his shoulder under hers and his arm around her back. Step-by-step they make their way up the hill. At least Bennett seems to understand the need for silence.

Amber tries to keep an eye out for cover, pointing or nudging Bennett that way when she can. But it's getting harder, her vision going narrow, swimming like her eyes are full of tears. She's sweating again, and shivering despite the warmth of Bennett's body pressed against hers. He stops at one point and lowers her to a rock, pulling out a cracked waterbottle and pressing the few gulps left below the crack on her. All it does is make her stomach roll, but Amber swallows down the nausea and doesn't tell him that.

Behind them, the hilichurls are out in force, hunting them again. Amber flinches at every gust of cold wind, afraid that it will be the Cryo Mage again. Bennett is a good person to be with if it shows up, at least, but she still doesn't want him to have to fight it alone, while she can't do anything but helplessly watch.

"They're getting closer," Bennett says, and Amber blinks the haze from her eyes and realizes that they're reaching Dragonspine's base, right where the snow starts. "We're gonna be really obvious on this snow, and the camp's still really far away. But there's a cave here! Will you be okay if we hide out for a while? There's no room for a fire or anything, but-"

It's just like what she'd done with the tree: take cover and wait until the searchers pass by. "If it's hidden enough," Amber manages, dredging up words, and lets Bennett shove her into the cave--more of a crack, but with a sharp enough turn that it is, indeed, hidden--without complaint.

He clambers in too, scrunching up in front of her, his back to her and his sword drawn as he faces out. Amber can't resist the urge to lean into his body heat. She's still drenched in sweat, and they're high enough for Dragonspine's Sheer Cold to permeate into the crack, so still shivering. Her mouth is dry, her tongue feels thick, and her head hurts tremendously. Bennett doesn't complain when she leans her forehead against his back.

She wants Baron Bunny. Her original Baron Bunny, the one her grandpa gave her, not one of the alchemical substitutes she carries for combat. Eula would be nice too, or Master Jean, or even Kaeya... but mostly she wants her bunny here to hug.

Or her grandpa, but even with her thoughts this muggy, Amber knows she can't have him. The sense of loss at the thought of him is too sharp, piercing right through the feverish clouds.

"Shhhh," Bennett hisses.

Amber realizes with some shame that she's been whimpering. She puts her hand over her mouth and curls in on herself, away from his warmth, a little huddled shivering ball.

It feels like forever that they're cramped in there, and yet it also feels like no time at all. Amber can't track time properly any longer. She's just floating in a grey haze of misery, cold and grief and aching joints and rawness all down her throat, trying not to cry. Eventually Bennett moves, twisting about, making a little noise when he knicks himself on his sword in the cramped space, and conscientiously putting it away before he takes her hands to pull her out.

"You're really, really hot," he tells her. His voice sounds like it's coming from underwater, and the worry in his tone means nothing, failing to percolate through alongside the words. "Can you walk? Here, don't worry, I've got you."

She tries to help, she really does. But her own stumbling only makes Bennett trip himself. He crouches down and pulls her onto his back, like she would for Klee, then straightens with effort and starts slow and steady up the hill. Amber leans forward to help him balance his weight as best he can and tries not to cry. Even this foggy, she burns as much with shame as she does with the fever.

Her head bows further, until her face is squished into his shoulder, and she doesn't remember the rest of the trip to the camp.

---

Agitation and shouting wake her halfway, and she flails for her Baron Bunny pouch as something grabs her. She can't seem to get the button unhooked, though, and there's a deep voice rumbling in her ear, telling her to hold still.

"It's okay!" Bennett says from somewhere, though she can't quite track his voice. "It's just Orban. He's gonna let you use his tent, and Iris is sending someone to get the Knights and a healer."

"Stay with us, okay?" says another voice, an older woman, authoritative and calm.

Amber is shivering violently, though she isn't sweating any longer; her skin feels puffy and warm, and her mouth is dry as a desert. "Water," she mumbles as she's set down on some soft surface.

"I'll get you some!"

Someone lays a blanket over her, and tucks it firmly around her when she tries to throw it off. Cocooned, Amber finds herself too weak to wriggle free. She can see only glimpses of her surroundings, the tent dark and everyone in it only blurry, hovering shapes. Bennett is obvious, though, with his sudden jerky movement and his "ow" as he trips over something coming back in, and he crouches down and gives Amber a trickle of water from the same cracked waterbottle as before. She can feel drips from the crack running down the side of her face and over her ear as she gulps greedily at the water.

"I really messed her up, didn't I?" Bennett says, worried and distant and hollow, when he straightens. The two adults in the room make soothing murmurs.

"'t wasn't you," Amber mumbles, "I used Pyro, before-" and then 'before' tumbles into her head with stunning clarity, and she fights fruitlessly again against the blankets she's been swaddled in. "I have to report- the hilichurl tribes teamed up, and there's a Cryo Mage...."

"Bennett told me about the Mage," the woman says. "Plauen will let the Knights know."

"There's also the hilichurls! Someone has to tell them about the hilichurls."

"I'll send someone else after them. They can inform the Guild, too."

Amber struggles a few more times to get up, because she needs to go, she *needs* to--a secondhand report from the adventurers might not be enough. "Can't you just take me? I know someone will have to carry me, I'm sorry, but I need to report."

"You *need* to rest," the woman says, in a tone that brooks no argument. Amber falls back and chokes on a sob, exhausted and dizzied just from the effort of trying to get up. She's bitterly aware that the woman is right.

For a long while she drifts in and out, the dark chill of the tent and the looming shapes of worried adventurers and the whistle of Dragonspine's wind outside, while Amber simultaneously shivers and burns. The shapes turn into monstrous ones, looming hilichurls and Mages and Heralds, and she whimpers until someone comes close and says something to her to remind her that her human again. She falls asleep for a while, or something like sleep, tossing in the tight-wrapped blankets they've piled over her. When she wakes she feels light-headed and dizzy and isn't sure where she is.

"Grandpa?" she whispers into the dark, feeling very small and alone.

A slight pause and then, "Yes," says someone with a deep rumbling voice, too deep to be her grandfather's, and puts a hand over hers that's too large and has the wrong calluses, and Amber cries until she falls asleep again because the piercing loss is back even though she can't recall why, grief without an anchor.

When she wakes again it's to a sweet dandelion scent and entirely different hands holding hers, likewise callused and strong but too slender and elegant to be her grandfather's, or that other man's. Amber opens her eyes and Jean's face, drawn with worry, swims into view.

"Oh, thank Barbatos," Jean breathes, and lets go of her hands to check her forehead. "You're still warm, but not as badly. You were burning up, and barely breathing. I was afraid...."

"Did the adventurers tell you about the Mage? And the hilichurls?"

"They did. Kaeya told me he would investigate further himself. I should have listened to him in the first place," Jean says, guilt in her eyes. "Eula reported that most of her company was ill, herself included. If I'd only given you a day off before sending you to scout, we would have known you were ill, and I could have sent him without putting you at risk first."

"Kaeya would probably goof off too much to scout properly, anyway," Amber reflexively retorts. She starts to sit up and has to catch her breath and lay back down. She can feel her throat tighten with more than the lingering rawness that Jean's Dandelion Breeze didn't quite clear. "But I already knew I was sick. I know I should've told you. I just didn't think it was that bad, and I wanted to prove him wrong."

"I understand," Jean says, her voice gentle, though she still has a guilty look on her face. Amber doesn't think she does, all the way, but if it means she's not scolding Amber, then Amber isn't going to say that. She reaches down and takes Amber's hand again. "I've cooled you down, but you're still feverish. I'm going to take you back to Monstadt so that Barbara can treat you properly. The next time you feel ill, *please*, let me know."

A little scolding after all, and Amber bites her tongue on the resentful thought that Jean would have tried just as hard to overcome it as she had.

Maybe Jean is thinking the same thing, because even as she helps Amber to her feet, she adds, "But under the circumstances, you did very well."

Amber feels a glow of pride, unwarranted though she thinks it is. "I was lucky Bennett was there," she says, because he's hovering just outside the tent, looking worried and relieved in equal measure. "But I'll do better next time. And I *will* report if I'm sick."

"I trust that you will," Jean says, and with her hand on Amber's shoulder, Amber feels almost steady again on her feet.

[umnitsa]

The Sailor's Knot - 2

Summary: Joel slowly makes things better, even if you don't notice.

A/N: Sorry, guys. I take too long to write, tag and everything, but I'm writing <3 I hope you enjoy this! Banner from @cafekitsune <3

Written with unholy eagerness and no proofreading! No beta, we die like english is my second language (and it is! xD).

Pairing: ADHD!Reader x Joel (Reader is also plus size, it just isn't an issue yet. Reader is about Joel's age.)

CW: Depression lifting by the way of serotonin delivered by a handsome man. Reader is also nerdy. First part is here!

The kids kept coming into your house. They would stay at the door and books would exchange hands as they tried to peek inside, just to get a look of the dog sleeping at the floor.

The dog slept a lot. Often over and around you.

Joel started building the fence as soon as the ground permitted, and you joined him, making holes, hammering poles and encouraging him to take breaks and sit inside, whenever he looked in pain.

Which it was all the time.

So you two spent the days inside, talking quietly about unimportant things.

The fence almost started feeling like an excuse. It felt even more of an excuse when he started joining you on walks for the dog’s necessities, while your talks got more philosophical. More profound.

“I can’t believe you’re actually listening to me.” You said, amusedly, after a particularly entrenched defense you feel you’re experiencing Star Trek, in some way, being in an utopic socialist commune. “Most people find this shit tiring.”

“You’re just a nerd.” Joel scoffed, smirking at you. “I knew it the moment you heard my name and made a Mystery Science Theater 3000 joke.”

“You recognized it! I knew it! And what does it says about say about you now, sir?” You bumped Joel’s arm with your shoulder, laughing. The dog jumped, tail waggling. You crouched to pet the dog, gently tousling his fur. “We need to get him a ball… Or something for a tug of war. I think he’s starting to feel better, and without the fence he can’t run.”

Joel nodded, kicking the ground.

“I like bad movies.” He says, almost shyly. “Cheesy ones. A few tapes reached some friends, and we had some fun.”

“That didn’t made you less cool then and doesn’t make you less cool now, sir.” You say softly, standing up. “And your secret is safe with me.”

Joel laughed.

“I’ll try and get him a rope. And we can make a ball with scraps of old fabric or leather.” He continued breathlessly after his laughter. “I know what you’re doing.”

“Hm?” You ask, absentmindedly walking towards your home.

“You make me stop working when I’m in pain.” He completed, quietly. “You let me rest.”

“I do?” You smirked, leading the dog inside, and holding the door for Joel, silently inviting him inside. “Hm. I hadn’t noticed, I thought it was just being a socialist.”

Joel shook his head, his expression fond, sweet. He stayed at the door, holding the handle.

“I should go back to the fence.” He says, and you can hear the regret in his voice.

“I found a brush.” You say, caressing the dog’s chest. “We should brush him.”

“We?” Joel entered, taking your excuse for him to stay. It made you smile, your chest filling with warmth. You didn’t want him to go, and he didn’t want it either.

“He’s a big dog. It’s better if it’s four arms. Do you have a tshirt on?” You ask, and he looks at his flannel. You could see the undershirt peeking. “It’s hard work, you will get overheated and you will lose whatever you’re wearing for the furstorm, and you will prefer if it is your undershirt.”

“I hope this isn’t some trap to get me half naked.” Joel smirked.

“Don’t tempt me.” You deadpan, which makes Joel chuckle, blushing, and look down. “Also, we need to make him enjoy this, because it’s something he will have done often and it’s better if he agrees to the whole proceedings. I also got good scissors to take care of his beautiful paws.”

“Do you cut hair?” He asked, grunting as he sat on the floor, his hands on the belly of the dog, gently scratching, soothing the animal into a relaxed state.

“Without any style.” You giggle, entering the bedroom, Joel’s chuckle following you. After some rummaging, you came back, in an old, rattled tshirt, holding the brushes. You sat by Joel’s side, crossing your legs and letting the dog sniff the brush. “I just know we have to trim his paws, don’t get excited for a nerdy haircut.”

“He needs a name.” Joel buried his hand on the fur and the dog offered his belly for petting. You started brushing slowly, carefully the dog’s neck and he closed his eyes, relaxed. “We should had thought of that.”

“You’ll hate all my ideas. Damn, I kinda hate my ideas.” you chuckled.

“Tell me.”

“Well…” You hesitated. “First one was Clifford.”

“He isn’t red, but damn he is big.” Joel chuckles.

“Yeah, but he doesn’t look like a Clifford to me. So… Cujo.” You cringe, chuckling. “I thought the irony of calling this sweetheart Cujo would be funny, but with those big eyes? I can’t bring myself to do it.”

“I see that.” Joel chuckled.

“I’ll call him Dog.” You say softly. “After another book.”

“Yeah?” Joel scrunched his face, focused, trying to find the reference.

“Yeah. Walt Longmire. I really liked those books.” You started picking the loose fur and piling it to the side. “Shame I didn’t get to read the last one before... you know.”

“What is it about?” He asked, carefully watching you combing Dog’s neck as he stretched.

“It’s a western neo noir. A detective series.” You nodded, holding Joel’s hand. He stared into your eyes, tense for a moment, as you push the brush on his hand. “He’s the sheriff of a small county in Wyoming. I like that not all the mysteries are murders.”

You held Joel's hand and guide it over Dog, in long brushes. Once you see he got the hang of it, you stand up.

Under Joel's curious and confused stare, you got into your trove of books and picked a small paperback, bringing it to Joel.

“I really think you would like him.” You placed the book over his flannel on the couch, then sat back beside Joel, the pile of fur just getting bigger beside you.

Dog grumbled, stretching.

“Yeah?” Joel asked softly.

“He is also an older, poetic soul, marred by war and loss.” You nod, your hand brushing over his as you pull loose fur. You continued, quietly. “Like us.”

Joel nodded, quietly, extending the brush to you. He held your hand as you pick it, then tugged you forward. He kissed your forehead, his nose pressed against your hair, both his hands around yours. You close your eyes, breathing deeply, willing to stay in that position for as long as he held you.

Dog grumbled and snorted, raising his head.

You felt Dog’s wet, soft tongue on your cheek, moistening the skin. You chuckled.

“Two handsome dangerous-looking gentlemen kissing me. Feels like I’m blessed. No danger shall reach me.”

Joel pulled back, smiling fondly. He caressed your cheek, then patted Dog, who laid down, offering his belly. With a chuckle, he went back to pulling the fur. ***

Joel appeared the next day with Ellie, Maria, Tommy and some others. While Maria checked on the dog, Joel led everybody else to the fence. It was finished that day.

You thanked everybody involved, promised things that didn’t matter. People agreed you looked better. You could see they looked relieved you were alive and looked well.

Something snapped inside your heart the moment you realized Joel would go back to his life and you suddenly had no excuses to keep him around you.

As people said their good byes, Joel stayed back.

“You didn’t get rid of me.” Joel bumped against your arm, jostling you playfully. You turned to him, wide eyed, facing his pleasant grin. “Now we built the headquarters, the meetings start.” You just stared, wide eyed, completely taken by his playful expression.

You had never seen Joel like this.

“I don’t understand.” You said, distracted by his eyes.

“Talked to Dog and we are gonna start the ‘Handsome Dangerous-looking Old Gentlemen Club’.” Joel placed one hand on his pocket, head tilting towards you. “We have daily meetings.”

You laugh, patting his chest.

“Wanna have the first meeting now? I bet Dog would love to fetch his ball in the yard.” You point at the door, Joel nods, following you. “Thank you.”

“I’m just glad you’re coming back to us, Sunshine.” He said softly, holding your shoulder and kissing the top of your head.

[i-am-but-a-holyman]

WIP Ask Game

Rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Tagged by @a-very-sparkly-nerd

this is about to get scary fast 😭 none of these have coherent names YET and i don't write on a computer so i'm going by what i have scrawled at the top of each first page

Facebook marketplace is not a good place to hire a witch (for halloween)

We are not letting our two year old dress as riff-raff for halloween (for Halloween)

smh, brad can't fix a tire to save his life (for halloween bitch why are you writing so many Halloween wips its july get it together)

DIME

why am i writing this....

SEXY ALIENS FROM MARS

You need true love's kiss and i gave you like Acceptable Substitute's kiss

Ummm do i even know seven people

@killva-creates @the-serineopal @cas-spirit now you have to do this too mwagaga also idk if you guys write but I'm tagging @cemeterygrace @randomslinky @just-a-little-lesbian bcs you happened to be nearby sorry xD

Plus anyone who wants to do it!!

[slashingdisneypasta]

Jim Bickerman (?) x Fem!Reader (Feat. Wayne Jackson) || Drabble

Question mark is there because Jim is not actually present. Wayne is very much present, though.

Plot: Imagine being kidnapped by your problematic boyfriend's psychotic gangster cousins and also his identical twin.

Warnings: Kidnapping, use of chloroform, restraining, Lyle, etc.

Tagging: @marinerainbow , @masqueradeball and @slxsherwriter . Hope you guys like this one! This one's kinda fun XD

You had not stepped 5 feet into your own home until someone grabbed you from behind, muffling your gasp and shriek with their hand. Cotton from his fingerless glove rubs against your face when you struggle, wriggling and attempting to throw him off- but he's too strong, and besides, as soon as you see Lyle--

You know there's no point, anyway.

Breathless, you watch him come out of your kitchen with a cup of coffee still steaming (One of your favourite mugs. You're going to have to chuck it, now that he's touched it.). A terrible glower rolls over your features and you grit your teeth, managing to wrench the hand off of your mouth. " -What do you want??"

... Lyle just takes a sip of his hot coffee, leaving you hanging like he can't be bothered to speak to you. You want so badly to kick him-

Norman and Wayne come out next, and your glare just worsens. Fuck. With a turn of your head, you get a visual of Dale being the one holding you still, see him avoid your eye, and think about biting his hand.

"Sorry about this, Y/N. Honestly, this isn't about you." Norman really does look like he might feel a little bit guilty, but just because he has half a conscience doesn't mean much when he still does anything his fucking brother tells him to. Fucking brothers in this family; jesus christ.

"What. Do. You. Want?" You repeat, zeroing in on Norman. Answer or so help me-

"She's firey." Lyle chuckles into his coffee, dead-eyes laving over you like he has every right to. "I like that in a woman."

Wayne gives a short, clipped chuckle looking down at his feet, and you actually feel a traiterous twinge of betrayal. He has never been on your side; just because he looks like Jim doesn't mean he's anything like him. You know that.

Norman sighs. "We just need some help from our cousin."

Your gaze flickers sharply to Wayne again, thinking. You know they don't mean him... But Jim has never done anything for them- he doesn't want to. It's not really for the sake of any moral code... more because unlike fucking Wayne, he doesn't quite love the idea of taking orders from his younger cousins. Or anyone for that matter. He barely listens to you; mostly you have to bribe him.

So- there's only one reason they'd be here, with you.

Is there a jar poking out of Wayne's pocket?

You look to Norman again. "You're not serious."

"I- "

"Bait!?"

Norman looks tired; hair greasy, eyes dark, and skin pasty. "Y/N, come on, we're probably not gonna hurt y- "

"Oh that's very reassuring." You hiss, wrenching your body once and elbowing Dale in the gut. The bastard still doesn't let go. Shit-

Lyle rolls his eyes, bored, and shifts his weight slightly Wayne's way. "Do it now, I wanna get on the road." While Wayne finally looks from Lyle to you, the bastard takes another slow leisurely sip of his- your- coffee.

You focus your attention on Jim's spineless twin, though now- because he's coming towards you and pulling a cloth of out of his other pocket, and he looks grimm, and you're now realising really quick what must be in that jar in his pocket. Chloroform.

Fuck.

"No- " You start struggling again, and kick out at him.

"Get a hold of her." He barks, glaring at Dale who huffs out an 'I'm trying', while struggling to hold you still. Eventually he manages to stomp his foot down hard on both of yours at once, and he's so strong you can't escape. "Was that so hard?" Wayne mutters under his breath, coming the rest of the way towards you again. Stopping directly in front of you and pulling out the jar of chloroform. You dig your fingernails into Dale's wrist, his arm around your front holding your arms down so you didn't hurt anyone.

You watch Wayne wet the cloth carefully, but not too carefully as he spills some on your carpet. Lyle shakes his head, still just drinking coffee. When he's ready you turn your head away, seal your lips and eyes closed and hold your breath.

Wayne's hand curl around the back of your neck, fingers embedding in your hair and holding you still. "Come on now,.. this won't hurt one bit." The familiar (familiar, but not exact.) voice assures, almost comforting except for the fact you know who it's coming from. And you wouldn't trust it one bit, even he wasn't armed with a gun and a cloth drenched in chloroform. You don't respond at all.

Carefully, almost gently, Wayne pulls your hair at the roots- causing you to gasp at the prickling pain. The cloth immediately presses firmly over your mouth and nose, and when the chemical smell touches your taste buds your eyes flash open wide.

You already feel dizzy, Wayne's features so close looking fuzzy around the edges but not yet blurry. You try to remain mad at him, to hold onto your consciousness, but your body's starting to feel heavy. His eyes almost lull you into a false sense of safety in your drugged state, looking so much like Jim. Exactly like Jim. At least, if he wasn't so pale. Still you find yourself lolling towards him, eyelids falling heavy. "There ya go... " You hope your eyes say screw you, back.

Dale holds you up when the muscles in your legs give out and your head falls forward, eyes slipping closed.

Norman takes a quick picture of the scene just before Wayne takes the cloth away from your face. With a tired and holy unimpressed huff, Lyle puts down his mug. "Great. Send that to Jim, get the girl in the backseat and let's get on the damn road. Need some real coffee."