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missionkitty · 16 days ago

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Fistfuls of Frustration (FE3H)

just had this idea when i was grinding fishing on 3/22 after the timeskip on my current azure moon playthrough. i've also had a lot of thoughts about dimitri during this period of the game. i figured drowning mine and byleth's sorrows in fistfuls of fish was a good way to pass the time (and try to get professor level up to a+.)

i also...really like byleth as a character. i know that there's some disc horse about "my unit" or "player characters" being flat and someone to project onto, but as someone who was perceived as emotionless for a lot of my life i latched onto byleth quite a bit because they were like me. i wanted to explore her anger (i'm playing as f!Byleth on this latest run) and what she might have been feeling about dimitri.

hope you enjoy.

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“Lots of fish out there today,” the fishkeeper was barely able to sputter as Byleth rushed past him.

To anyone who wasn't one of her dear students or closest allies, Byleth seemed as calm as usual–expressionless, even. But those who knew her best could detect the distinct and angry way her heeled boots stomped across the stone and wood of the fishing spot. The way she gripped the buckets full of bait, her knuckles white and glaring.

The last mission was a success by any average metric. Repelling Empire forces despite being betrayed by a spy, numbers regularly bolstered by the news of the return of the Church of Seiros and Byleth as Rhea’s successor, the arrival of Rodrigue and his troops, slow but steady cleaning efforts to restore Garreg Mach to its former glory…

But Byleth was still angry. Frustrated. Disappointed.

Mourning.

She let out a sharp huff as the buckets slammed to the ground. Grabbing a fishing pole, she took the hook at the end of the line in her fingers and swiftly baited it with larvae.

“If you do not approve of what I have become, then kill me.”

As Dimitri’s voice echoed in her mind, Byleth could feel her teeth grinding together deep into her inner ear.

“I will continue to use you and your friends until the flesh falls from your bones.”

She furiously cast the fishing line into the water. It landed with a gentler plip than she had hoped for and the burning in her chest began to smolder painfully.

Byleth kept trying to remind herself of the horrors and punishment Dimitri had faced over the past five years. In her past she had seen other mercenaries succumb to much less. But now they were together again. He didn’t have to suffer alone anymore.

Her deathgrip on the fishing rod somehow got even tighter.

“But he insists on doing so…” Byleth murmured to no one in particular, through tightly pressed lips.

Before she could let her mind wander back to the way he would snarl and spit at her concern, she forcefully turned her mind and eyes to the rippling water.

The line tugged under the water and Byleth skillfully pulled up several fish on the line–a miracle to anyone else, but only the barest distraction to her.

Everytime she blinked, she would recall the Dimitri from five years ago. The polite, young man who vowed his strength was for her. The Dimitri who gave her time and space to grieve the loss of Jeralt.

Five years, Byleth’s mind wailed.

To her it had only been a few days at most. Asleep to miss the ravages of the Empire and the assimilation of nobles and houses that could not bear to be trampled into dust.

Byleth stared blankly at the fish on the hook, struggling to breathe.

“I am not a prince, but a walking corpse.”

To be away from Dimitri when he may have needed her most.

She mechanically pulled the fish from the line and threw them in a large, empty bucket. She baited the hook again, aching to push any pointless regrets out of her mind.

A gentle breeze blew and seemed to put her into a welcome trance, and she began to fish without stopping. All noises and thoughts were swallowed by the sound of rushing water and the focus on the ripples emerging from every successful hook. Byleth could sense other people passing by but she was unwilling to leave the stupor that was protecting her from difficult, painful thoughts and memories.

Suddenly, as she reached for more bait, her hand hit the bottom of an empty bucket.

Awareness returned to her body and she looked at the several now-full buckets of fish.

“Surely there should be more than that…” she murmured, looking around before spotting Gilbert walking toward her from the direction of the Dining Hall.

“I see you’ve returned to the land of the living, Professor,” he said, not unlike a father teasing his child. Byleth felt a bit of embarrassment wash over her as she set her fishing rod down and realized just how sore her hands were. She also realized how the daylight was no longer bright and illuminating a bluish sky, but slowly fading into a sunset.

Gilbert gave her a comforting, understanding look and a sad smile. “I had the sense that you did not want to be bothered, so I took any full buckets of fish to the Dining Hall earlier today without asking–I hope I did not overstep.”

“I’m sorry. I’m…not sure what came over me,” Byleth lied. “But thank you.”

“No need to apologize. I can think of few better ways to distract oneself than fishing,” he replied, glancing at the new full buckets of fish. “And Goddess knows you seem to have a talent for it.”

Byleth responded with a noncommittal noise before looking down at the empty bait buckets and feeling the gnaw of Dimitri’s sullen, angry words trying to occupy her thoughts once again. She heard Gilbert sigh in a way she felt was quite sad and familiar, and looked up at him again.

His brow was furrowed with concern as he looked down at the wood of the little pier. “I…can imagine why you might be here.” He then gave Byleth an apologetic look. “And I won’t pry, but I must ask…if you’ve visited His Highness yet today?”

She let out a silent huff, her brow furrowing slightly.

“No. I have not.”

Typically, since they had reunited, Byleth would make a point of visiting Dimitri first thing in the morning in his usual brooding spot in the Cathedral. His responses were always the same cold, callous growling about being left alone. But not today.

She was angry. Sad. Too full of frustration to go and see Dimitri and risk doing something she would regret.

Gilbert let out a hum and nodded in response. “I see.”

“Why do you ask?” Byleth asked, somewhat guilty. She knew she must have appeared like a strange, furious specter of a woman, trying to bury her feelings in the water–or at least in buckets of fish.

“His Highness left the Cathedral earlier. I have been keeping watch of him from just outside, when he suddenly glanced around and then left through the eastern exit.”

“I…see.” Byleth tried to hide her incredulity. Was Gilbert implying that Dimitri had left because she had not gone to visit him today?

That was utterly ridiculous. It had to be. Why would the Dimitri of today be so concerned that Byleth did not visit him? He told her that he would use her and her friends until the flesh fell from their bones.

Byleth realized her teeth were clenched together, making her jaw ache.

She took a shuddering breath and exhaled shakily, trying to get a rein on her feelings again.

“Professor! Get down!”

The memory appeared out of nowhere. Fire crackled behind her–their surprise attack worked, and the Imperial troops behind her were stunned by the sudden counterattack. As the General moved to attack, Byleth was within his range. And the voice of the worried, kind young man she remembered rang out in the air.

Byleth closed her eyes and swallowed hard, returning to the present moment. She tried to imperceptibly shake her head, hoping to toss the vision from her mind. It was incompatible with the fury and rage Dimitri much preferred to express as of late.

She had contemplated asking the others on the battlefield if they had heard his cry, but she could not bring herself to. She was scared to yearn for a man who may not ever return. And they had to bring the war to an end. She could not spare time for longing and aching for the Dimitri she knew while Rhea was missing and Edelgard’s armies were bearing down on all of Fódlan.

But the sound of his voice that day was clear. The arrival of Rodrigue and his army also confirmed that Byleth had not misheard him that day. Dimitri receiving his father’s lance, Areadbhar and Rodrigue’s admonition that the pursuit of revenge had the power to break those who followed after it. There was a crack in Dimitri’s dark façade that day in Ailell.

It was haunting and comforting all at once. To know he was buried deep inside his fury and the visions of his dead friends and family.

But they could not get him out unless he wanted to. All they could do was hope to direct Dimitri’s thirst for revenge in a way that would not get him or anyone else killed.

“I am sorry, Professor. I did not intend to unearth the things that trouble you today,” Gilbert said, shocking Byleth out of her thoughts once again. His eyes were full of remorse–he seemed to recognize the frustration that she could not hide.

Byleth simply shook her head and sighed.

“No, it’s fine. The thoughts are there whether I’m fishing or not.”

Gilbert made an understanding noise and moved to grab the buckets of fish after a moment.

“Shall I take these to the Dining Hall for you, Professor?”

Byleth nodded and gave a slight, pitiful smile. She looked back at the empty bait bucket and sighed.

“Oh, Professor, I believe the Eastern Merchant still has some bait to sell. If this information benefits you in any way,” Gilbert called out, a wise look in his eyes. “And make sure to eat and return to your quarters before the moon gets too high above.”

Her pitiful smile grew more sincere and she nodded gratefully. As Gilbert left, Byleth turned to start walking to the Marketplace, but stopped when she saw a flash of black disappear behind the walls leading to the front of the Monastery.

She quickly buried any softer feelings with frustration and annoyance, walking now to get more bait to continue burying herself in fish.

***

The Merchant had a significant amount of bait left, and Byleth bought it all, but it was not much compared to the impressive amount she had collected before. And before long, she was quickly down to her final few pieces of bait.

She tried her best to enter another fishing-induced stupor, but she could not focus long enough to do so. She kept herself turned away from the Dining Hall and from any person that might approach her, hoping that would work well enough.

The time she had spent outside fishing was now catching up with her, but she was still determined to run from her troubling thoughts and to use up the remaining bait before going back to her quarters and to try and have a deep, dreamless sleep.

She grabbed a small bait fish from her bucket and forcefully shoved it onto the hook, but hissed when the hook appeared through the other side much smoother than she expected–piercing, then lacerating her finger and thumb.

Byleth dropped the hook and bait in angry surprise.

“Careless,” she cursed at herself, looking now at her blood-covered fingers and hand. The wound began to sting and she let out a defeated exhale.

The sun was now fully set below the horizon and the Monastery, and Byleth realized that there were few, if any people still out. She didn’t want to trouble Manuela with needing bandages for a careless, minor fishing accident. Or risk embarrassment at her careless, self-inflicted wound.

“Professor! Welcome back... I was... We all were... You've been on our minds.”

Byleth scoffed at the memory. What a cruel time to recall his kindness all those apparent years ago.

Before tears had enough time to form in the corners of her eyes, Byleth began to move to walk to her quarters. Perhaps she had some bandages and poultice in a forgotten drawer? If not, she would go and find Manuela, but–

She stopped as she looked up at the Dining Hall.

Dimitri stood there like a haunting statue, his black armor trying to make him blend into any available shadows. She stared at him, holding her breath and unsure of what to do.

When she finally decided to call out to him, he quickly turned away and left.

His departure brought the air back to Byleth’s lungs and she took a slow breath in and out. The sting of her wounded fingers returned to her attention and she pushed the thought of Dimitri from her mind before setting off to her quarters again.

The walk was almost a run, but quiet, the only sounds coming from the clacking of her boots against stone. She entered her room, keeping her bloody hand from touching anything, and pulled open mostly-empty drawers.

Byleth groaned and sighed again. It looked like she would have to bother Manuela and the infirmary after all.

She grabbed an old, clean cloth from one of the open drawers and pressed it to her bleeding fingers before opening her door. She stopped as she heard the sound of something rustling across the ground against the door.

Byleth looked to see a clean roll of bandages and a small wooden container sitting on the ground, pressed against the door.

She quickly looked around, trying to catch sight of anyone or anything nearby. Her heart began to ache.

She froze as she caught the faint sound of a familiar gait and clinking armor fading into the distance.

Byleth’s body began to tingle, her suppressed feelings welling up into a flood.

“Professor!”

With surprising force, Byleth grabbed the bandages and jar and flung it against the wall in her room. The bandages bounced off, flying under her bed and the jar hit the wall with a crack, though it merely flung the lid off as it hit the floor. Poultice sludged out onto the floor as Byleth stood furiously, eyes wide and her breathing angrily measured.

Her shoulders shook as her anger quickly dissipated and she tried to comfort herself by holding her wounded hand.

She wanted to cry. Desperately wanting some release from seeing and hearing the tortured phantom of a man she wanted to hold close–to send away the ghosts that haunted him for at least a moment, so he could get the rest he deserved. To allow himself to be carried by the people who cared for him and his kingdom. To see and acknowledge the people who loved him.

But no tears came. Only a smoldering ache in her chest and her throat.

The Dimitri she knew was still mostly buried. She could see him in the cracks.

Byleth walked silently to her bed and knelt down to retrieve the bandages. She gently lifted the jar of poultice and looked mournfully at the spilled portion on the floor.

She sat at her desk and began to dress her wounds, her mind now painfully quiet.

#fire emblem three houses #fe3h #byleth eisner #f!byleth #azure moon #blue lions #fe3h fanfic #fire emblem #missionkitty writes #been playing through fe3h again #i love this game so much...

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siderealscribblings · 10 months ago

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99 Years, 6 Months, 13 Days

It took Furina roughly an hour to get dressed every morning and roughly thirty seconds to get naked after her bedroom door was closed.

Her shoes landed in a basket near the closet for her melusine housekeepers to sort out in the morning. Her jacket landed on a peg on the dresser (much to her satisfaction) and her white ruffled blouse landed next to her shorts in the hamper. She had been in three layers all day as an uncanny heatwave descended on the capitol and she was in dire need of a wash and a change of clothes before Neuvillette returned home.

With each shed scrap of cloth, she could feel the weight of her duties slide off her shoulders until she was humming under her breath as she slid under the spray of a piping hot shower. She couldn't resist groaning as warm water rolled over her aching shoulders, washing away a day that consisted of eighteen exhausting appointments without so much as a madeleine to nibble on in-between.

By lunch she was feeling absolutely despondent, exacerbated by the fact that Neuvillette was tied up in litigation and couldn't eat with her as had become their custom. Furina had allowed herself a three minute sniffle-fest in the coat cupboard before pulling herself together and pulling through the rest of her day with as much grit and faux-determination as she could muster. But now that the day was done, she allowed herself to indulge in a long shower and watch the sunset through the window overlooking the lake.

I guess I have a lot to be grateful for, Furina thought, closing her eyes as she traced her fingers through her hair. It didn't always feel that way; not when so much rested on every word she spoke and every slight gesture. Not when the one thing she really craved continued to dance tantalizingly out of reach.

"Furina?" Furina snapped out of her trance as she heard a soft knock and her name called through the door.

"I'm finishing up!" Furina called back, switching the shower off and shaking her hair out. "Go ahead and get started without me!"

Furina dripped on the carpet as she perused her wardrobe for something to wear for the evening, settling on a pair of calf-length cotton bloomers and a half-buttoned sleeveless top. It was nothing racy by any stretch of the imagination, but it was certainly more skin than she had shown Neuvillette in previous years. The memory of pure, pulsing Hydro energy snaking over every inch of her naked skin never failed to make her shudder; after being caressed in such an intensely intimate way, she felt no shame in being less than fully clothed around him.

Furina considered her selection of bras, chewing on her lower lip for a moment before tucking them back in her wardrobe and slipping the top over her head. Three buttons held the top of her blouse together; two weeks ago, she stopped buttoning at two. Today, she stopped at one, watching her pale skin flush with warmth beneath the collar as she tugged it open just a little. Just far enough that someone might accidentally catch a peek if she were to accidentally lean too far one way or the other.

One couldn't be hasty when trying to catch a prize fish, but one also had to properly bait the hook.

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dsireland86 · 11 months ago

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The Things We Could Never Change

Chapter 2 Part 1

****warnings: sexual content and language

If you want to be tagged in the next chapter, let me know :)

tags: @lma1986 @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @missduffsblog @bngurngheart @thatamazingvampirestory @myownthoughts12

NOAH AND SOPHIE HAVE MOVED ON FROM THE PAIN AND FOUND THE BEAUTY THAT COMES THROUGH TRUST AND LOVE.THE PAST IS NEVER REALLY THE PAST AND THE FUTURE IS UNKNOW.THE ONLY THING THEY BELIEVE IN IS THERE'S SOMETHING ABOUT THE OTHER THAT THET'RE SCARED TO LOOSE BECAUSE THEY KNOW THEY'LL NEVER FIND IT IN ANYONE ELSE.MAYBE LOVE REALLY IS THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND.

--LINK TO CHAPTER 2 PT.2 AT THE BOTTOM--

Folio:

"I don't think this is the way I'm supposed to bait this hook, Nick! Can you help me, please before I chuck this stupid thing in the water?"

I turned around and couldn't resist laughing. Sophie had the line tangled around the pole with only a few inches of room for the hook and the most distraught look on her face. There was no way teaching her anything today was going to work.

"Here, give it to me," I chuckled, setting my bottle of water down, and taking the pole.

"First," I said, glancing over at her. She was watching my hands, but I could tell she wasn't feeling any of this. I began untangling the line that was tightly secured around my favorite fishing pole, wondering how in the hell she managed to do this. "We're not baiting any hook. They're trout; not bass." I grinned at her, but she just rolled her eyes.

"Secondly, all of this just takes a little patience, Soph. If you have it, then things will go smoothly. If you don't well, this happens," lifting the pole and shaking my head.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, her countenance falling.

"Hey, don't apologize. I'm just happy you want to spend time with me and at least try to learn." I felt my face redden a little

"You know I love spending time with you, Folio. You're one of my favorite people," she admitted with a shy smile. I felt a pang of jealousy hit my heart.

"I don't freaking know what happened though," shrugging her shoulders. "I was just trying to put a stupid worm on a stupid hook and the stupid pole didn't want to work with me." I looked over and saw how upset she was.

"Wow! Easy killer. It's no biggie. Fixable, see?" I held up the pole in the same condition I had brought it in; perfect.

Sophie gave a half smile, kissing my cheek before walking away and throwing herself in a camping chair.

"I have a feeling this isn't just about a fishing pole and bait."

"No," she answered flatly.

"Right, well, I think this calls for something a little stronger," I announced, opening the cooler next to me and retrieving two beers. I cracked one open and handed it to her. She accepted it gratefully, taking a long sip before I even had the chance to open mine.

"Soph, what's going on? You look stressed and exhausted. Is the new medicine not working?"

I brought over another camping chair and sat in front of her, making a statement I was ready for details. She sat back and took another long sip of her beer before placing it in the chair holder.

"I don't think so," shaking her head and fiddling with her thumbs. "I told my doctor, but he said I just needed to give it time. I feel like by the time it does start working I might be past the point of exhaustion and having sleep for dinner instead of food."

"Hey, that's my line."

She grinned at me before rolling her eyes again, propping her legs up on my lap.

"Seriously, though what's wrong?"

She hesitated before speaking.

"Do you know a girl by the name of Sarah?"

Holy fuck. Where did that come from?

Hanging my head, I adjusted my black Harley Davidson hat, trying to think of a way out of this conversation, but failed.

"Um, yeah the name sounds familiar," admitting, knowing I knew a whole lot more than I was letting on.

Here, Sophie leaned forward, resting her arms on her knees.

"Folio, why didn't you ever tell me Noah had a fiance?"

And there it was; the very thing I was trying to avoid.

"It wasn't my place I guess. You should know by now how private Noah is. He would have killed me if I told you."

I may have been exaggerating a little, but if I had said anything to Sophie before Noah did, shit would have hit the fan.

"Nick, tell me honestly; should I be worried? Because Noah seemed pretty worked up when he found out."

I took my hat off and ran my hands through my hair, only to put it back on.

"How did Noah find out?"

As I drank more of my beer, I listened to Sophie explain what happened the other day when Matt called Noah.

"Who in their right fucking mind would hire her," I yelled, tossing mine and Sophie's empty bottles back in the cooler.

"That's exactly what Noah said. He and Matt are trying to figure it out. They think it might have something to do with the label and someone who works there who knows her."

"Yeah, that sounds like something Sarah would do."

"She's that bad?"

I looked over at Sophie, noticing the worry on her face.

"If Sarah was still the same as I remember, then yeah, she's that bad if not worse. Did Noah go into any detail about what happened between them?"

Sophie shook her head.

I went over to her, taking her hands and pulling her up. She was the prettiest thing I'd ever seen and smelled like a summer flower. Noah was a lucky guy and if he did anything to fuck up what he had going with Sophie, I promised myself I would beat the shit out of him.

I was thankful to have Sophie's friendship at least; most of the time it was enough for me. But deep down, I kept my true feelings for her hidden, knowing how much it would wreck if anyone found out.

"I'm sure he'll tell you when he's ready, Sophie, don't worry," pulling her in for a big hug. "What happened between them was a long time ago. Noah's had plenty of time to heal and move on from Sarah. It'll all be fine."

"And if it's not?", she asked, her head laying against my chest.

I paused to think about this for a minute. What would happen?

"Then I'll be here to protect you," I answered, full of reassurance.

Sophie looked up at me that sweet smile but the clouds of distraught were still there. She wasn't convinced by my words and to be honest neither was I.

Noah:

"This is fucking bullshit and you know it," I yelled into the phone at the stupid idiot on the other end. I was beyond pissed by now, having been on the phone most of the day trying to sort out the deliberately fucked up situation that was straining my nerves to their very ends. "I don't fucking care about contracts. Your girl did something wrong, something illegal, and it's going to affect our band in a very bad way. I want it fixed!" I slammed the front door shut, ignoring all the faces turning to look at me as I marched up the steps to my studio, slamming the door closed behind me. "So what you're telling me is that this chick on your end, the label's end, managed to have a contract written up for her friend that would guarantee her a job working with band crew, and it just so fucking happens it's my band she gets sent to? That's not a coincidence and you know it." I pinched the bridge of my nose to alleviate some of the pressure in my head but to no avail. I glanced down at my desk, setting sights on a recent photo of me and Sophie together and a sudden ache of guilt slammed into my heart. I was trying to avoid having to drag her into this fucked up drama with my ex, but was failing miserably.

"Look, I can't work with this woman. She's a toxic person that I have a horrible history with and having her work with the Bad Omens crew is going to be the worst mistake ever." I paused, giving the asshat on the other end a chance to speak, but all he said was the same thing as before. "My hands are tied Noah, I'm sorry," hanging up the phone and leaving me hanging.

"Argh, motherfucker," I screamed, rage pulsating through me, almost throwing my phone against the wall. I was fuming with so much anger, that the vein in my neck was bulging, and my jaw was hurting from how hard I'd been grinding my teeth together.

This was a fucking nightmare; a mess I never asked for. I felt trapped, suffocating as thoughts of my past reared their ugly faces once again, threatening to destroy everything that Sophie and I were building, and suddenly I found myself on my way down of feeling low, losing grip on my mind. I never wanted Sophie to see this side of me; the side that made me feel like a letdown to everyone. I had to tell her; to be honest with her about what we were up against. Sarah was a force to be reckoned with. A fucked up, delusional, human being who knew all too well how to manipulate the right people to get what she wanted. Running my hands through my hair, I took a long, deep breath, realizing I needed a release from the tension that had built up inside me; a strong, decadent release from the emotions and thoughts warring within my mind. A soft knock suddenly came from the other side of the door along with Sophie's sweet voice calling my name, answering my silent plea.

Sophie:

I was almost asleep on Jolly's shoulder when the booming sound of Noah's voice followed by the harsh slamming of the front door, startled me, jerking my eyes wide open. Noah was yelling at someone about a girl, the label, and other inaudible words as he climbed the steps two at a time disappearing into his studio upstairs; the second slamming of a door echoing through the house.

"Holy fuck, what's his deal," Folio bellowed, appearing to be almost asleep himself.

"One guess," Nick stated without looking up from his book.

"What?" I sat up, wiping the sleep from my eyes.

"What? Noah's been on the phone most of the day with the label, trying to get them to fix the whole mess with Sarah being hired on as crew. I haven't seen him this pissed since,"

"Stop," Jolly interrupted, glaring a Nick with a raised eyebrow,

"I wasn't going there, Jolly. Calm down," Nicholas laughed lightly.

My hands rested on my lap nervously, as I thought about the whole situation with this Sarah person and what I was in the dark about. I hadn't even met her, yet I hated her, and watching Noah struggle the way he was with all of it was painful. He still hadn't told me their history, but I was hopeful he would soon.

"I should probably go check on him," I asserted. Jolly removed his arm from around me, making me already miss the comfort of his warmth, as I made my way upstairs to see what was wrong with Noah.

"Look, I can't work with this woman. She's a toxic person that I have a horrible history with and having her work with the Bad Omens crew is going to be the worst mistake ever."

The regret I could hear in Noah's voice was crushing. Whatever happened in his past must have been not only devastating but detrimental too. Noah screamed, in the same manner, he would when he was on stage except this time with actual frustration.

"Noah," I called, quietly knocking on the door. I was surprised by how fast the door opened and was instantly pulled into the room with the door closing behind me. Noah locked it and turned to me.

His face was clouded with a perplexed look, but the magnetic appeal in his eyes held a sort of desirable darkness I was familiar with.

"Do you remember when you told me you were ready for me to have all of you?"

Closing the gap between us, Noah towered over me as he slid his hands around my waist and under my shirt, pulling me into him. My heart fluttered, immediately beating fast the moment his skin touched mine. "Yeah, I remember, and I meant it," I said, gently taking his face between my hands and tracing his bottom lip with my thumb.

He placed a moist kiss on the inside of my palm, leaving a dampness on my skin. The way he stared at me, dark eyebrow arched as he dragged his lust-filled eyes up and down my body, made me shiver. His breath was shaky either from the anger he was battling or that his self-control was wavering despite how hard he was resisting.

"You can talk to me, you know. Whatever you have to say, I won't judge you or do anything that will hurt you, Noah. I just want to listen like you've always listened to me."

He took my lips in his, kissing me softly, but I could feel his muscles flexing and grip tightening around me as he fought the urges his body was going through. He was tense and the breath he took when he kissed me was quick and loud. I needed to finally give this man the one thing he desperately needed from me; the one thing he'd been most respectful of.

"I don't fucking deserve you, Sophie," he confessed, laying his forehead on mine and closing his eyes. My hands wandered to his back, aching to feel his skin beneath them. I wanted his shirt off and tugged on it so he'd get the idea. After tossing it to the floor, Noah gathered me back up into his arms as I ran my hands up his chest, wrapping them behind his neck.

I laughed silently to myself, knowing how crazy he sounded. If anyone didn't deserve anyone, it was the other way around. I owed Noah the world after everything he'd done for me in the past year. In so many ways, he saved me.

"Yes, you do," kissing his cheek and brushing his hair back out of his face. I was eye-level with his chest, the dull colors of his tattoos so close I could see every detail. The word "desolate" stared me right in the face. It hurt to think that at some point in his life, Noah felt that way; empty, desolate. I prayed he still didn't.

He shook his head, disagreeing with me.

"Noah, look at me." He opened his eyes, no longer hiding the tears that lurked in their corners.

"You can't keep acting like if you let your guard down the world is going to end. Why don't you trust me enough to let me in?"

He shrugged, quickly wiping away the one tear that escaped. I pulled him down and kissed his face. "I don't know why you seem to think you have to hide your pain from me; you don't."

Noah clenched his jaw, hands moving up my body until they reached my shoulders and he pulled my shirt off, throwing it to the floor next to his. He pulled me in close, our chests pressed firmly together, and his hardness, which said he was hungry for me, pushed tight against my belly. His long fingers danced over the skin on my shoulders and back sending all kinds of signals between my thighs, making my muscles tighten like never before. I wanted him now more than ever and if I didn't get him soon I was going to internally combust.

"You warm my soul, Sophie," he whispered in my ear, taking it in his mouth and sucking it lightly. A soft moan escaped me as I felt myself crumpling in his hands.

"Whenever I'm around you, I feel alive," he continued, sliding his large hands under my bra and pulling it up, over my head, exposing my bare breasts to his hungry eyes. "And for a while, I can forget about my demons."

Noah's lips found mine again. They were desperate and needy and full of longing.

His hands found my breasts, their size completely engulfing them as he massaged and played with my nipples which immediately hardened at his touch. I couldn't hold back the sounds escaping me, but Noah didn't seem to mind.

"I wanna fuck you, Sophie. I need to. Is that okay?"

Noah's bluntness shocked me but didn't surprise me. I understood what he was feeling because I was feeling it too. I knew it was time to let him have my body as he had my heart.

I nodded my head, but he wouldn't accept that. "I need your words, Baby," he demanded in a tone I never heard before. I swallowed, hard. "Yes."

Like a switch that went off, Noah's face went from sweet to feral in a matter of seconds. He seized my hips, clamping down on them so hard I was sure there'd be bruises later, slamming his lips to mine and his tongue in my mouth. I knew at this point that he was in complete control and I was all too willingly surrendering.

"I want to cum inside you," he said bluntly, yanking my leggings down, forcefully until they were off and in the same pile as our shirts. "You're still on birth control, right?" pushing me against the desk, indicating me to sit. I nodded, too overwhelmed with what was going on to speak, sliding my bottom on top of the cold hardness of the desk like I was told.

"Good."

Noah paused for a moment, looking me over as I sat in only my panties on the top of his desk, waiting for him.

"You have no idea how long I've dreamed of fucking you like this," he said, sliding his joggers off. His hard cock was clearly visible through his black briefs, the length, and size of it making my eyes widen. Noah smiled, chuckling softly.

"Do you think I won't fit?" My cheeks grew warm, snitching on my insecurities. Spreading my legs, Noah planted himself in between them, reaching for the tops of my panties, pulling them off, and placing them in the right side drawer.

"Those are mine," he stated firmly.

I didn't argue.

"Don't worry, Baby. It'll fit perfectly inside your sweet little pussy; like a glove." Noah winked. I whimpered over the feeling that hit me as I watched Noah remove his briefs and yank me closer to him. He pumped himself a few times spreading the precum over the tip, preparing to slip it inside me. My breath caught in my throat over knowing this man before me and everything that came with him was mine, and the emotions that hit me were a lot. I couldn't think straight and didn't even notice when Noah reached behind my head and grabbed me with his free hand until I felt his kiss.

"You are fucking lethal to my self-control, you know that," I expressed, just as he slid two fingers inside my wet pussy, making me cry out. I threw my hand over my mouth to keep quiet, but he quickly pulled it away.

"Don't cover your mouth, I want to hear you."

"But everyone downstairs," I whined, his fingers hitting the very spot inside me that felt heavenly, pulling another loud cry from me. With my hands behind me, palms flat on the desk, I tried to contain the sounds that were escaping but was failing miserably.

"I don't give a fuck if they can hear us. I want to hear you scream for me, Princess." He gave me that smile that sent the butterflies in my stomach flying while pushing his strong fingers in and out of my sex harder and faster than ever before, never taking his eyes off me, making my moans grow louder. Our lips found each other as the version of me that once suggested we were meant for anything but this, melted away.

"Noah," calling to him from the blissful part of my heart.

"What is it, Baby?"

I was letting my emotions get the best of me, but he needed to hear how I really felt about him.

"Noah, for the longest time, I believed love was a myth, something I didn't deserve because the only thing I had to compare it to was the life I had with Perry. But then you came along and proved to me that myths can sometimes be real too. Noah," I paused, licking my lips knowing I was about to take a huge risk, "Noah, I'm in love with you and I can't deny it anymore; I don't want to."

I couldn't hold back the tears anymore as they slowly rolled down my cheeks. I was laid open like a book for Noah, exposing every vulnerable part of me. Noah stayed silent, reading me with his lustful eyes. His face was void of emotion, making it hard to know what line I'd just crossed.

"Say something," I said, searching his eyes for some kind of response. He smiled, running his tongue over his bottom lip.

"Fuck this foreplay shit. You deserve the real thing," pulling his fingers out of me. Noah slid his fingers which were covered in my juices over his cock, pumping it a few times before lining it up to my pussy's entrance, plunging inside me with no warning, making me scream out his name in a lustful moan.

"There it is," he said, grabbing my leg and holding it to his hip while wrapping his hand around my neck, lips finding mine as he began to thrust long and deep inside my wetness that was just for him. It took me a moment to adjust to him. It had been a while since, well since I was intimate, and to be perfectly honest, Perry was no match for Noah. The way Noah filled me was complete and I wasn't left wanting for anything more; just him, and at the moment I couldn't get him deep enough in me. My walls tightened around him with every thrust and pull he made, earning him a moan or a cry that I had no control over.

"Goddamn, Sophie you're so fucking wet and tight, I can't," but he cut his words off, pushing his cock further into me. A low savage growl came from deep inside him.

He leaned further into me, his hot breath covering my neck and head almost against my chest, as he savagely gathered me into him so that I could finally wrap my arms around him.

I ran my nails across his shoulders, feeling the sweat that was already building on his skin, holding him to me in hopes that for a brief moment, I could make him feel safe, and from the way he clung to me, he did. Eventually, our steady speed turned into an unrelenting tempo and I couldn't hear anything but his grunts, my moans, and the sound of our skin slapping together.

"I can't believe this is real; that you're real. I've been aching to be inside you," he breathed between each hard thrust. "I've needed this for too long, Sophie, and not just the sex, but sex with you." I managed to peer down and watch as his thick cock disappeared into my body, bringing my eyes up to meet his and see the enigmatic look on his face.

Noah was relentless against my pussy that was craving everything he was doing to it and I couldn't get enough of him inside me. "Sophie," he said softly, finally slowing his pace for a moment and letting me catch my breath. He took my face between his hands, pulling me to him, and dragging his lips across the skin of my neck and throat, sucking one specific spot until I could feel it bruising. He let go, bringing his eyes up to meet mine.

"God, why are you so fucking beautiful," kissing my lips violently. I couldn't resist the urge to smile.

"This is going to sound corny as hell."

"Just say it."

"It wasn't until I met you that I understood I'd never been in love before." He brushed the strands of free hair out of my face. "I'm in love with you too, Sophie, and I want to spend every day proving it to you."

I grinned, moving my hips around to feel his thickness inside me. I watched his eyes close and that satisfying look fall over his face again.

"You like how that feels, my love," I cooed.

Noah nodded sluggishly. I sat up with him still inside me, latching on to his tight bottom and pushing further into me. His low grunts triggered another round of endorphins that made my pussy wetter.

"I don't need you to spend every day proving it, Noah. I already know. You've done things for me, and to me," I snickered, "that I've never experienced before." I ran my hands up his sides, relishing the feeling of his soft, tight skin beneath my fingertips.

My body squirmed, begging Noah to continue what he started, and whimpered as his hand found my neck again. With his lips on mine, he whispered in my ear, "You are mine and only mine. You are my girl. Understand?" His fingers tightened around me, squeezing lightly until I was feeling a sort of high.

"As long as you know you're mine and I'm not the kind of girl that shares. I will fight her for you Noah, and I'll win."

Noah chuckled tightening his grip on my neck. My airwave was constricted, but I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing how fucking good it felt as he started his thrusting pace back up, massaging my inner walls even harder than before. "Your jealousy is already too fucking hot. She'd be a fool to cross your path."

By this time I was pushing so hard against his thrust, craving the feeling of his cock inside me, that I was a writhing mess in his hands. My body was dying to reach its climax and was willing to do anything at this point to reach it. I braced myself against the bottom of the desk again, allowing Noah to use me as he needed to reach his release. My body was shivering and the built-up pressure in my stomach told me only one thing; I was almost there.

Just thinking about this made my back arch and cries fell mercilessly from my mouth like rain. Noah quickened his pace, grabbing both my legs and locking them firmly around him. I felt completely surrounded by him, safe inside the dome of protection he created around us. Slowly, the fire in my body concentrated on the fire building in my core. My body started to shake and I was growing light-headed.

"Noah, fuck, baby, I'm almost there," I said gasping, taking a handful of his hair and tugging it.

"That's it, my Princess. Fucking cum on me. I want to feel you. I need to feel you," he begged, taking his thumb and pushing it lightly on my clit. The circular motions he began made me moan louder.

"I love seeing you like this Sophie; so spread open and vulnerable in my hands. You don't know what you do to me, how fucking crazy you make me. I love you, Sophie."

It was the first time either one of us said those exact three-letter words and the way it made me feel was unexplainable. I cried out harder than before, feeling like my entire body was on fire and about to explode. "Harder, Noah. Please, harder," I panted, almost reaching my climax. I knew I was being too loud, but I couldn't stop myself. "You look beautiful, Princess. I'm so fucking in love with you," he laughed. Finding his eyes, I saw the adoration for me in them and it was enough to pull one last cry from me before my walls collapsed around him, flooding me with such a beautiful release that my eyes welled up with tears. My orgasm hit me like a massive tidal wave, crashing into me without mercy, and I could feel myself cumming. "Fucking hell, Noah," I cried, grabbing his arms and digging my nails deep into his skin. He growled, hissing through his teeth as continued to lightly fuck me, pulling every last drop of my climax out of me.

"You sound so damn beautiful, baby," Noah praised me, leaning over and latching his lips to one of my nipples. He sucked the hard peak first, lapping the tip before nipping the end, and then worked his tongue to the outside area, circling the skin and dragging his teeth over it. Switching to my other breast, Noah repeated his work as his hands roamed my body as if trying to memorize it.

"Noah," I stammered, trying to speak the words that formed in my head but were impossible to say as he worked my body, trying to pull a second orgasm from me. My hands found his hair and I ran my fingers through its softness, sighing at the feeling

"You think you have another one in you?" he asked, pulling me up and lifting me off the desk. "No. I'm drained," confessing as I wrapped my body around him, placing small kisses on his face and neck. He set me down carefully on the gray couch and a huge smile appeared on my face at the memory this couch held. "That look says otherwise," he said with a smirk, kneeling in front of me.

"Noah, what are you doing?" His tattooed hands slid up my thighs, the darkness of them bringing out the paleness of my skin, and parted them, exposing my swollen sex to him. His nostrils flared and his jaw clenched as his deep dark eyes took in the sight of me.

"You know, I thought that your pussy looked delicious before, but now that I've properly fucked it, it looks so mouthwatering, a could almost cum without even tasting you." Noah licked his lips before wrapping his arms around my legs, tugging me down toward his face, and plunging deep inside me with his mouth that I just about saw stars from the intense rush it gave me. I forced my hand over my mouth, this time covering it to save myself even more embarrassment. I moaned against my skin, biting any flesh my teeth could find. Noah let up, taking my leg and draping it over his shoulder to get a better angle. "I thought I told you not to do that," he scolded, pulling my hand away from my mouth. "I want to hear your sweet moans." "Yeah, but I'm so embarrassed. The others are downstairs and I'm sure they don't want to hear us."

The look on his face was priceless and it made me giggle. "It's impossible for you to not overthink anything isn't it," he chuckled bringing his wet lips to mine, and kissing me until I could taste myself on him. "I said I don't give a fuck if they hear. They'd better get used to it because they're going to hear it a lot more than just tonight." He rubbed our noses together and tickled my side, making me laugh and squirm beneath him. We stared at each other for a moment, drinking one another in and trying to memorize every detail. I felt his cock, which was still fully hard, rub against my center, stirring the arousal inside me, and suddenly I wanted his mouth on me again. "Make me cum again, Noah," I whispered, pushing against him as I wiggled my hips and watched his lips curl into his precious smile.

"Yes ma'am." Kissing my thighs and biting them, I jerked, the feeling intense, but welcoming. At first, his fingers parted my folds, and he slipped a finger inside me, but when he applied his mouth and worked my core so gently, a rush swept over me. I clawed at the fabric of the cushion, bucking my hips at every flick and circle his tongue made. He lapped up my wetness, sucking as much of it as he could before swallowing. "I'll never get enough of the way you taste," he muttered against my tightly clenched pussy, which was almost on the verge of cumming again. I just needed one more thing.

"I'm almost there, Baby. Use your fingers," I moaned, panting so heavily at the feeling of my second orgasm. As soon as Noah did what I asked, it only took a few pumps of his fingers to draw it out, and soon I was a shivering, shuttering mess in his hands again. Noah didn't even give me time to recover as he pulled me to the floor and slid himself gracefully between my legs, filling me with himself once more. This time I was able to properly hold onto him and allow him to take what he needed to find his own release. "God, you feel so fucking amazing wrapped around me, Sophie. I want this forever." "Forever?" I asked, surprised. His eyes met mine and he grinned, pecking my lips quickly. "You're making me cum, baby, I'm almost," he grunted, yelled, and then spilled himself inside me, coating my entire insides with his release.

"Holy, fuck," collapsing into me so I could wrap him up in my arms. He was sweaty and sticky, and completely out of breath, but I loved every part of it. I didn't mind the pressure of his body against mine; I was just happy to have him. All of him.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to get to this point, Noah," I confessed, running my hands up and down his back. "I'm sorry if you ever felt I didn't trust you enough."

"No, don't do that," he mumbled into my neck, planting soft kisses. "Don't apologize. You were healing. I understand that." He pushed himself up, holding his weight off me by the strength of his arms. His silver chain dangled down, and I couldn't resist the urge to play with it. "Sophie, you never have to apologize for guarding yourself because of what that piece of shit did to you." Standing up and slipping his briefs on, Noah grabbed a blanket and a pillow from the couch along with his shirt and laid back down next to me. He cleaned me up the best he could considering where we were with no access to a bathroom, and when we were finally settled, I snuggled into the crook of his arm, throwing my arm over him and hugging him tight. It was so warm and soft next to him, reminding me of the perfect spot you'd find in your bed, surrounded by a bunch of pillows. Bringing his arm around me, Noah began to caress my shoulder, letting his fingers slide across my skin lazily as we both began to grow tired.

Even though we both knew where each other stood now, confessing our love and refusing other people at this point, there was a deeply hidden fear that began to latch itself in me. It was the kind of fear that was just about as terrifying as the thought of Perry; paralyzing.

"Noah, can I ask you something?"

"You know you can," he replied, sleepily.

"Are you ever going to tell me what happened with you and Sarah?"

I felt his body go rigid and his hand squeeze my shoulder. I was suddenly worried I'd crossed a horrible line the second he pulled his arm out from under me and sat up. I was afraid to look at his face, fearing I had made him angry.

"You deserve to know," Noah agreed with a sigh. "I can't avoid it, can I? We share everything now at this point," reaching over and taking my hand. I gave him my best half-smile, earning me a sweet caress of his fingers across my cheek. Pulling the blanket with me, I nestled myself in between his legs like he asked me to and leaned back against his body as he began telling me the story of his relationship with Sarah and how it all went wrong. My heart wasn't prepared for what I heard and I now understood why Noah was the man he was today. She broke his heart.

CHAPTER 2 PT.2

#noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens cult #jolly karlsson #nicholas ruffilo #bad omens band #nick folio #bad omens

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starwarsmum · 17 days ago

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Day 17! Line Without a Hook

@maribat-calendar-events

Marinette didn't make a sound as she allowed the man to push her into the apartment. He kept the weapon - a sawn off shotgun, she noted distantly - pointed at her as he secured all of her locks. She swallowed her panic back as she thought about all of the warnings her brain had been giving her and cursed her own stupidity.

“So, you're probably wondering why I'm here, threatening you of all people,” the man said, turning towards her and taking off his cap. Marinette stiffened when she saw a streak of white in his hair, flashing back to that awful mission where Viperion had…she shook the memories away. “You see, you're my bait. There's a certain little birdie that likes to flutter around you. And it's so much easier to catch a Robin when you have something he wants.”

“I don't know Robin,” she said timidly, though alarm bells were ringing. Had he somehow seen through the magic of her transformation? He looked at her with narrowed eyes and she tried not to let the panic show in her voice. “Please, if you expect him to show up to help me when we've never even met it will be like- like casting a line with no worm. Or without a hook to ensnare the fish.”

“Oh, Replacement will show up,” the man said confidently, his blue eyes searing into her own. Her confusion at his nickname must have shown because he gave her a sardonic smile but didn't elaborate. “Believe me, a damsel in distress? One that he's been trying to hook up with? He'll be here.”

Marinette flushed but realisation was dawning on her as she thought of the only man she could be considered to be of importance to. He then forced her into one of the chairs from her kitchen, producing zip ties and a gag. Once he was happy that she was secured, he rooted through her pockets until he found her phone.

Apparently breaking into it to find her contacts wasn't really a challenge and she could only watch helplessly as he used her phone for his own purposes.

_ _ _

Tim was already grappling across the city when his phone chimed with an incoming message. Unfortunately, said phone was all the way across the city, sitting safely in the Batcave while he, still dressed as Robin, made his way to Marinette's apartment.

When he arrived, he saw that her window was opened a crack. It concerned him but he figured it worked in his favour. He tapped on the glass but didn't get a response. Something seemed…wrong. He knew that Marinette had been stressed out about the guy following her, and she was savvy enough to know that even if she was on an upper floor an open window was an invitation for trouble.

So after deliberating for a few moments he decided to go in and check. If she was asleep with an open window he would ditch out immediately but if he was right and there was something more sinister afoot he didn't want to delay. The window opened with a loud creak and he winced - if she wasn't awake before, she should be now.

The apartment was quiet, darker than he would have expected. He couldn't see far in front of himself, so he went to activate his night vision to give himself an edge-

And promptly froze just before he was able to, light blazing into life. His heart jumped into his throat when he finally caught sight of Marinette; she was strapped to a chair, a gun pointing at the back of her head. She looked confused, her eyes wide and he wished he could tell what she was thinking.

“And you said you didn't know Robin,” the man holding a gun to her head said. Tim finally looked at him fully, blinking as he took in the bright colours and familiarity of another Robin suit. “Looks like he knows you though. Nice to meet you properly, Replacement.”

“And who exactly are you meant to be?” Tim said, activating a distress beacon discreetly. “Kind of weird for you to be doing cosplay if you're kidnapping people.”

“I thought you were supposed to be the smart Robin, Timmy,” the man said, a sarcastic smile on his face. “That's how you replaced me, isn't it? By being smart, raised in your safe little bubble by daddy and going to the fancy private school. Little Nettie here gets it, her parents had to work and now look at her.”

“You think you're Jason,” Tim said, brow furrowing. He tried to reassure Marinette with a look but hardly dared to look away from the madman with the weapon.

“What, you don't recognise me? Need me to be stood next to Bruce, or Dickie bird, to get it?” He stepped forward with a snarl, shoving Marinette to the side roughly. The chair toppled and Tim flinched at the small sound of pain that made it past the gag. “But I didn't come here to convince you of who I am, Timbo. I want you to show me you have what it takes to be a better Robin than I was.

“I want to see whatever it is that makes you think you didn't just get lucky. Because it didn't surprise anyone when I died, because I was a kid that dressed up like a hero. The only reason you're still standing is because you've been lucky your whole life!”

“No, I'm still here because I worked for it,” Tim retorted, holding his staff in front of him. “I had to convince Batman to let me work with him because you died. He's not the same man anymore because he never got over your death. But if you were seriously wondering, I do think I'm a better Robin than you.”

“Then prove it,” Jason sneered before launching himself at Tim. The world was a blur of fists and Tim's Bo staff for several minutes. He kept trying to get around Jason, to get closer to Marinette and free her, but was blocked at every turn.

The distraction proved too much and suddenly Tim was gasping for air on the floor, bleeding freely. Jason had hold of his suit, pulling him up with absurd ease as he pulled a fist back to hit him again.

But then Tim heard a solid ‘whack’ and fell to the floor, dazed. Jason slumped sideways, revealing Marinette, free from her bonds and wielding a baseball bat. Her breaths were coming quickly but she rushed to Tim's side, pulling him with surprising strength away from Jason.

“Are you okay?” She whispered, pulling aside his mask and opening his eyes wide. He felt slow and his grasp on consciousness was fading when movement by the window made her whirl away from him.

Marinette crouched between the two Robins, glaring at the one she presumed must have been Jason. He gave her a measured look before vanishing out of the window. She stayed where she was for another second before deciding that checking Tim over took precedence.

He was out cold but breathing steadily. She pushed away the revelation that Tim was, in fact, one of the vigilantes she had been working with in her other persona. She was sure she would have a meltdown about it later but for now she compartmentalised.

She almost melted into a puddle of relief when Batman and Nightwing appeared in the same window that Jason had left through. Letting them take over the care of Robin was the easiest thing in the world and she was glad she had replaced his mask so there were no awkward questions.

Once Nightwing left with Robin, Batman turned to her to get her version of events. Forcibly reminded of mission debriefs on the WatchTower, Marinette fell into the familiar pattern of recounting what had happened, not put off by the silent way he took in the information as she spoke.

“And he called Robin his replacement?” Batman said, and Marinette couldn't mistake the undertone of concern for anything else. She nodded and he gave a long sigh before thanking her and asking if she had someone to stay with while they tracked Jason down.

#maribat #mlb x dc #timinette #timari #timari january #dc x mlb #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #maribat event #tim x marinette #marinette x tim #timari january 2025

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total-lost-boys-simp · 1 year ago

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Water Might be Thicker Than Blood

TLB!Poly! x Fem Reader

Chapter 4

Chapter 3 / Chapter 5

The obnoxious warm beams of the sun forced their way through the thick patterned curtains. “Ngh…what time is it?” (Y/N) asked herself as she sat up in her bed. Her bed? When did she come home last night? She just remembers the boys & her brother going out and them never coming back, but nothing about going home.

Looking down at her bedside table (Y/N) picked up the little analog alarm clock. Squinting her still tired eyes she saw the big and little hands telling her it was seven thirty-three. “God, why is it so early?” (Y/N) asked herself as she put the clock down and headed down to the kitchen.

She had narrowly missed her mom heading off to work as she heard her pull out of the dirt driveway. “Well that’s one lecture avoided for now,” (Y/N) muttered as she opened the fridge. (Y/N) felt her life flash before her eyes when a voice jumped out from behind, “What’u doin’ up so early?”

“Jesus, grandpa!” (Y/N) exclaimed as she whipped around.

“Better not be goin’ through any of my root beers & oreos, ya hear?” Grandpa aggressively pointed his finger at the still open fridge.

“I don’t plan on it, just gonna make some breakfast. Do you want any?” (Y/N) queried as she rummaged through the fridge.

“Nah that’s all you kiddo, I’m goin’ back to my handy work,” grandpa laughed as he walked to his taxidermy room.

“...Okay then, bacon & eggs for one it is then.”

After breakfast (Y/N) spent some time basking in the vibrant warm glow of the daylight while reading a book in the sun room at the front of the house. She still couldn’t believe how different her life had become in just a short couple of days. Going from having no one but her mom & brothers to have six new, exciting, adventurous and untroubled people in her life. As she was thinking about the changes she started thinking more about the boys and how they were kind of…hot? With their leather clad looks and wind catching bikes. They just lure you in with their standout features and wild personalities. At least they lured (Y/N), like a naive little fish to a worm on a hook…Or maybe she’s the one luring them? No, she’s definitely the one that took the bait…especially as she thought of everytime their briskly cold fingers grazed her body. It was like nothing she had ever felt before.

(Y/N) was so lost in her thoughts about the boys that she hadn’t even noticed her brothers whining at each other upstairs. What is it this time, she thought as she stood up going towards the stairs. “What’s going on up there?” She shouted from the base of the staircase. “Mom’s on the phone!” Sam shouted. (Y/N) walked up just to see what her brother’s were getting up to. “Uh yeah…hey mom, (Y/N)’s here…you should talk to her too,” Michael suggested with a smirk on his face extending the phone to (Y/N). His sister just knew he was too hungover from last night to talk to their mom…why else would he be wearing sunglasses inside? She snatched the phone out of his hands before flipping him off and walking a foot or so away.

“Oh hey mom…what’s up?” (Y/N) asked, cautious about what’s to come.

“Hi sweetie, I was just telling you brother that I’d like the two of you to watch Sam while I’m out tonight,” Her mom’s sweet and soft voice sounded fuzzy over the landline.

“Well I was kind of hoping to go meet up with some friends…” (Y/N) demurred.

“(Y/N) you know how it’s been, I’d just like to have a night for me. Could you two please just watch your brother?”

“But mom-”

“(Y/N), you and Michael can’t just be going out all night whenever you want, I already told your brother all of this. I’d just like to be the one going out tonight,”

(Y/N) sighed, “Yeah of course mom. Stay safe tonight, okay?”

“Of course sweetie, I’ll be a phone call away.”

“Alright, love you…bye,” (Y/N) said as she hung up the phone and handed it back to Michael.

“I’m going back down stairs, no one talk to me for the foreseeable future,” (Y/N) huffed as she stomped down the stairs. She was just so frustrated. Sam is a teenager at this point, he can be by himself! Why should (Y/N) have to stay cooped up in here keeping an eye on him? This girl just wants to use up what little bits of freedom she has left for the summer before she has to go back to college courses and part time job hunting. It’s not that she’s upset with her mom, she’s just upset that her mom told her to stay with Sam as if he were still a baby.

Day turned to night as (Y/N) disgruntledly went back to her book and calmed herself down. At this point the sun had already set and the radiant moonlight seeped into the glass room she was resting in. Barely realizing what time it was (Y/N) looked up from her provocative page and saw the wind picking up, forcing trees to lean their way back and wind chimes ready to take flight. “I haven’t eaten since like 8am…,” she mumbled to herself as she got up and walked to the kitchen where her brother was.

“Hey, want a sandwich, I’m making some for me and Mike,” Sam asked.

“Yeah sure,” his sister sighed as she leaned on the table.

“Still upset?” Sam questioned as he pulled out the bread.

“No, just annoyed now.”

“Yeah of course you are,” Sam snickered.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Before (Y/N) could get an answer Grandpa came rushing in harshly setting a couple things on the counter as he asked, “Hey anything around here that might pass for uh- a aftershave?”

Sam started looking around before reaching and saying,”How bout some Windex, Grandpa?” he suggested, sniffing the bottle. Oh my god, this is ridiculous (Y/N) thought as she watched this ludicrous scene play out in front of her. “Yeah yeah, let me get some of that, huh?” Grandpa said as he hastily walked towards Sam. Grandpa let out a weird, “Yeahhh…” before rubbing a few spritzes of windex on his face, causing Sam to let out a laugh. As this was happening, Michael sauntered into the kitchen asking, “You got a big date tonight, Grandpa?”

“Yeah hahaha,” Grandpa let out as he walked over to the counter past Michael, “Just gonna drop by some of my handiwork to the widow Johnson.”

“What you stuff for her, Mr. Johnson?” Michael mocked with a smirk.

“That wasn’t funny Mike!” Sam exclaimed as ‘La Cucaracha’ honked outside.

“Yeah, maybe get off your high horse and be respectful a bit?” (Y/N) suggested as she sat on the kitchen counter. Michael glared at his older sister.

Looking up at his older brother, Sam insisted, “I’m going to make you a sandwich.” to which he responded, “Don’t bother.” (Y/N) watched as her brothers bickered and grew ever so slightly more upset and annoyed with each other. Before she could jump in the three were caught off guard by roaring motorcycles, glaring bright lights and the wind causing everything window to open and clatter. “What the hell?” Michael shouted walking closer to the windows. “What’s causing this?” (Y/N) exclaimed as she hopped off the counter and went into the living room with her brothers. The revving of the bikes was not met with whooping and hollering even a faint calling of an all too familiar domineering platinum haired biker. (Y/N) ran to the front door and flung it open with Michael right behind her and Sam shouting, “(Y/N) what are you doing?! Don’t!” but as soon as they all looked outside things went silent, still, mysterious.

“What’s going on guys?” Sam asked as Michael closed the door.

“It’s nothing, don't worry Sammy,” (Y/N) tried reassuring her little brother.

“Go take your bath,” Michael quietly commanded his little brother.

After Sam went upstairs (Y/N) asked, “Michael, what’s going on? Really? Did something happen last night with the boys? Did you get into some kind of trouble?” She followed her brother around expecting an answer. “Leave it alone, (Y/N),” Michael tried hush his sister's interrogation. “No, not until-” she was cut off by her brother whipping around inches away from her saying, “Leave. It. Alone.” Mildly intimidated and extremely annoyed (Y/N) exclaimed, “Fine, whatever! I don’t give a damn anyways,” and stomped upstairs.

(Y/N) decided now was as good a time as any to try and drift off to sleep while reading her book. It’s something that always helps her when she’s stressed, ever since she was a kid. Flopping down on her bed she heard something clamor to the ground. What was that, she thought as she peered over her mattress. It was a walkman, the same walkman she was using when she was in the cave. While (Y/N) got this warm feeling inside, she also had a rush of chills. So the boys really were here? That revving and shouting and screeching was actually them? But how did they disappear so quickly? How did they get the walkman into (Y/N)’s room on the second floor? Things that probably would make sense at any other time but just didn’t at the moment with all that just happened. “I don’t want to think about this anymore,”she murmured to herself, “I’m not sure I really want to,” putting the headphones on, hitting play and opening her book.

There was an atmosphere of tranquility in the air for a few minutes letting (Y/N) enjoy her thrilling novel before she heard a rambunctious thud outside her room. “What the hell?” She whispered as she took off the headphones and got out of bed. Walking out into the hallway and to Sam’s door (Y/N) knocked asking, “Sam, is everything okay?” Without an answer Sam launched open the door and pulled his sister into the room. “(Y/N) he’s a vampire, like a real vampire!The one’s in the movies! He wants to drain our blood! He’s going to tear us apart!” Sam shouted nonsense in his older sister’s face. “What are you talking about?” She asked. She didn’t get an answer, instead Sam picked up the phone right when it rang.

“Hello,” he asked, “Mom, I think we have to have a real long talk about something.” Sam kept going as screaming could be heard from Michael’s bedroom. What the hell, is all (Y/N) could think. “Mom…uh-oh” Sam stammered into the phone, “No,” he paused, “Now we should stay calm,” he paused again, “Oh nothing, nothing,” pause, “Mom, I can’t talk about it over the phone it’s about Michael,” instead of a pause Sam looks past (Y/N) and screamed bloody murder! Thinking this is a prank now (Y/N) looks behind her- NOPE! Her other brother is FLYING OUTSIDE THE DAMN WINDOW. “Holy crap! What is going on?!” (Y/N) shouted as she grabbed onto her not-flying baby brother. Sam kept screaming into the phone and panicking causing their mother to panic as well.

(Y/N) on the other hand wanted to scream but she just sat there in shock trying to make sense of all of this. She wanted to think rationally, maybe it was a prank her conniving little brothers pulled…Sam’s acting was never that good though. Michael doesn’t look like he’s attached to any rope either. Was her brother really flying? Was he really outside a second story window with nothing preventing him from floating off except a telephone cord? When did this start? How did it start? What’s going to happen? All the questions raced through (Y/N) head as she sat in a silent state of panic while both her brothers went crazy.

She snapped back to reality once she heard Michael begging for help, “I’m your brother, open the window!” he screamed hysterically. Running to the window (Y/N) opened it immediately pulling her brother through and keeping him grounded. Sam sat on the ground next to his older siblings. In a huff Michael said, “We have to stick together.” To which Sam asked, “What about mom?” (Y/N) looked over at him and said, “Don’t worry, we’ll think of something.” Sam started to panic again, “I don’t know guys, it’s not like getting a D in school or something.” Michael reassured his little brother that he and (Y/N) would figure it out.

Just as the three of them quieted down their mother came rushing into the house, “Sam?!” She shouted repeatedly running into the house. “Oh Sam are you alright?! You had me scared to death!” Lucy exclaimed, coming up to her son. “He’s fine, mom, he just got frightened by one of his comic books. I’m sorry he called you, I should have checked up on him,” (Y/N) said, putting a hand on her brother’s shoulder. “Yeah, I guess I got a little carried away. That’s all,” Sam said with a shrug.” Oh the look on this poor woman’s face right now…”You got carried away by a comic book?!” oh no. “It was a scary comic, I’m sorry,” Sam was trying his best at least?

“You know, I just about had it with all three of you! You know that?” Lucy jabbed at two of her kids. They knew better than to talk back, everyone in this room has been in this situation one too many times. Lucy turned her head to the kitchen and walked over asking, “What is this mess?!” she continued, “You spill milk all over the kitchen floor and you don’t bother to clean it up?” picking the white milk carton off the floor. “We didn’t-” (Y/N) was cut off as her mom went on to say, “I can’t believe you people, and the refrigerator door-” Blah blah blah, was all (Y/N) as she tuned her family out. She didn’t want to deal with any of it anymore so she walked up to her room ignoring her mother’s shouts and modest threats of “punishment”. She just knew her mom wouldn’t follow, she never does.

Instead of staying in her room (Y/N) snuck out of the house closely behind Michael. She startled her little brother as her shoes broke dried branches and leaves. Whipping his fluffed brunette curls around, “What- damn it (Y/N) be quiet. What are you doing here?” he asked his sister. “You’re going to get your answers, I’m going to get mine. We’ll see who has better luck,” she proclaimed, causing Michael to roll his eyes. “Fine, get on. I’ll drop you off at the boardwalk.”

Everything was as lively and exciting as it usually was down here. The carnival rides and the illuminating neon lights of the arcades & shops made (Y/N) almost nauseous after the night she had. She walked up and down the boardwalk a couple times without seeing any sign of the boys. Where are they? What else could they be doing right now? She mentally asked herself. Suddenly, a cold breath and smooth voice nipped at her neck behind her saying, “Didn’t expect to see you here.” Snapping around (Y/N) was met with David less than an inch from her face.

“I came looking for you,” she revealed with uncertainty in her voice.

“Oh yeah?” the scruffy bleach blonde asked with one eyebrow raised.

“Yeah…where are the others? I want to talk to them too,” (Y/N) shakily demanded looking David in the eye.

“They’re with the bikes, follow me,” David ordered, grabbing (Y/N) by the hand.

After a short walk to the rest of the group (Y/N) could feel the pit forming in her stomach, scared of what’s to come.

“Hey mama, where’ve you been?!” shouted Paul as he spotted (Y/N) and David.

“Man, why does David get special treatment but we don’t?” Marko pouted, seeing David and (Y/N) hold hands.

“Stop making her uncomfortable, guys,” Dwayne quieted the two boys up.

Standing there (Y/N) felt stuck, she was frozen nervous…completely different than how she was just one night ago. She snatched her hand away from David, not realizing he still held onto it. She tried to look anywhere except the boys, her refusal to speak didn’t help the situation.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Are you alright?” asked Marko with what (Y/N) hoped was a look of genuine concern.

“I- uh yeah, I’m just feeling a little off tonight…” she trailed her words.

“Why’s that?” David asked, peering down at her as he lit a cigarette.

“I don’t know…some stuff just happened tonight that made me a little…worried, I guess?”

“Like what? Hope it was nothing too, rev-viting,” Paul snickered as his comment earning him a hard nudge from Dwayne.

“What? Uh no- Actually. You know what? Sort of, it was crashing and loud, then confusing, then shocking, then mildly frightening and I feel like you all have something to do with it!” (Y/N) shouted waving her hands about emphasizing her frustration.

“Someone catches on quick,” David huffed out with his smoke.

“What?” (Y/N) asked.

“Yeah, I thought it’d take her at least a few more days. Like three,” Paul shrugged, grinning down as (Y/N).

“Huh?” was all she could belt out in her confusion.

“Really? I thought a week, maybe more,” Marko chuckled, his stare becoming darker.

“Just let me-,”(Y/N) couldn’t get another word in among the boys.

“C’mon, you don’t give the girl enough credit. We all know she’s smarter than that,” David jested to his friends, swinging an arm around the tense girl next to him, “You’ve figured it out by now, haven’t you, (Y/N)?”

“Most likely,” her voice felt small and deaf to her ears.

“You can say it, don’t be shy,” he assured her, coming up behind her ever so close, enough to just feel his presence as terrorizing as it was right now. He leaned down, his surprisingly warm breath met her ear, “No one will hear you.”

“Oh just stop, you’re vampires,” (Y/N) attested in false confidence, really she was about to barf in her mouth, she was so nervous. “Everything got weird the night you took us to the cave…I kept racking my brain trying to figure out what happened that night that could have made my brother like you. I thought it was something stupid like you lacing our food or the weed making us trip out when we got home. That wasn’t it obviously since Sam was Michael flying too. Then I realized, “Wait, this is only happening to Michael?” then BAM it hit me! The wine wasn’t wine-” Let’s be real no 19-20 sum year olds are going to drink wine to get blasted with friends.

Paul jumped off his bike and up to (Y/N)’s face exclaiming, “We never said it was,” grabbing her waist and bringing her in tight. David pushed the dirty blonde punk off of her, to (Y/N)’s relief, in what could have been a spur of jealousy? No, these guys are staring at this poor girl like she’s table scraps being thrown on the floor for a group of starving caged wolves. Why would they get jealous over who gets to touch her?

“Anyways,” (Y/N) continued, “you gave him blood, who’s blood? I don’t know but it definitely wasn’t human so it must’ve been one of you. And you know what, I don’t care! I don’t care that you’re angry I figured it out! I don’t care if you feel threatened since I know your secret! I don’t care if you drain every once of blood from my body because after the night I’ve had I don’t care about anything right now! I’m scared, I’m frustrated and I’m just really pissed off! How did I go from having a safe, secure normal life one state over to possibly getting eaten by creatures that shouldn’t even exist!I hardly know any of you, I don’t know how you got to Santa Carla, I don’t know where you’re from, who any of you used to be, how many people you’ve killed!? How could I be so naive!? I just- how did I end up here?!” (Y/N) felt her face heat up as warm salted tears kept streaming down her eyes like a river. With every gasp for air between sobs she could feel the lump in her throat getting larger making it more and more difficult to breathe. (Y/N) didn’t realize just how much anger and heartbreak she had built up in her until now, this was just what pushed her over the edge. She tried wiping away her tears with the hem of her sleeves but every rub of fabric made her eyes itchy.

(Y/N) didn’t bother looking up once she felt the secure embrace of a leather dressed vampire with his arms wrapped around her upper back and his chin resting on the top of her head, “We don’t want to “eat” you, you don’t have to worry about that, ever,” Dwayne’s smooth voice, comforting, fixed hold and rhythmic “breathing” were enough to keep (Y/N) from choking between hysteric sobs.

“Let’s go for a ride,” Marko suggested, resting his hand on (Y/N) shoulder. His sudden touch made the poor girl flinch. That may have been the first time Marko ever experienced heart break in his undead life. “Hey man, she’s scared and on edge, let’s chill,” Paul leaned down and whispered to his short curly fry of a friend. “No, it’s cool, I’m down…sorry Marko,”(Y/N)’s voice was hoarse and slimy from all her crying.

“So where are we going?” (Y/N) asked as she jumped up and threw her leg over the back of David’s bike.

“You’ll see,” was David’s only response from the bleach blonde vamp.

“How can I trust you?” (Y/N) asked again, wrapping her arms around his waist, interlocking her fingers tight.

Before speeding off Marko shouted, “You got on the bike didn’t you?!”

The boys came to a screeching halt causing (Y/N) to thrust her body onto David’s back, “Holy fuck guys, are we here?” she exclaimed, confused by the very sudden stop…why are they at a convenience store? “No, just figured we’d get you something to eat for later,” Paul replied, hopping off his bike. “For later? Why not now? (Y/N) asked, pushing up on David’s shoulders to get off his still hot and revving motorcycle. “Trust us, you don’t want to eat right now,” Paul honestly seems like the only one willing to say any words and also seems like the only one willing to go into the store with the puzzled girl of the group. “You guys need to stop being so vague all the time,” she said before walking in with the sandy blonde biker.

After getting food and continuing their ride it wasn’t long before the spirited group reached their final destination; a secluded beachfront park. “Hey Paul,” (Y/N) called out. “Yeah?” the sandy blonde shot back. “Were you just messing with me?” the delish girl asked, fidgeting with her jacket. “Wha’ do you mean?” The bronze medallion chain on his jacket glimmered as he turned towards (Y/N). As the group walked on (Y/N) didn’t notice the boys falling back and slowly disappearing one by one. “I mean back at the convenience store when- Paul? Paul, where you- Paul, Marko, David…Dwayne?” The now disconcerted and very perplexed girl was frantically searching for the group she had arrived with. Distant screams rang out just a few yards away. Instantly (Y/N) started chasing the noise, she just knew it had to be them, it had to be the boys…well they had to be the cause.

What (Y/N) had come across was enough to make anyone throw up the turn tail in fear, but (Y/N)...she couldn’t even move. She felt stuck, like her feet were glued to the grass. Actually, not just her feet, her whole body was frozen solid. It was like if she moved…she’d be next no matter how many times they told her she wouldn’t. “(Y/N)!You made it just in time,” David called out as soon as he saw the petrified girl. He dropped the body, of what looked like a young teenager, onto the ground…a spine tingling crunch could be heard as David needlessly stepped on the kid’s knee cap deforming the body part causing parts of the femur and tibia to peak out amongst torn muscle and flesh. What little blood left in the teen oozed its way out from the injury and the puncture mark on their neck. “Why don’t you come get a closer look,” David announced, raising one of his arms while using the other to wipe blood off of his face. “I…” was all that (Y/N) could muster before the rest of the boys emerged, each doused in rich crimson hemoglobin smothering them from mouth to chest. “(Y/N) it’s alright-” before Dwayne could cautiously continue, “Boo,” Marko whispered in the poor petrified girl's ear. In that very moment she was from pure stone to jelly as she let out a blood curdling shriek and fell to her knees as she tried to run. I’m never going to survive an apocalypse (Y/N) thought to herself. She sat on her knees, hands to her side, head to the sky, her chest rising & falling- lungs gathering as much air as they could. David and the rest of the boys walked up to her, their leader getting down on one knee before grabbing (Y/N) by the chin and pulling her face close. The stench of iron made (Y/N) nose’s burn and eyes water with how strong it was. “You’re cute when you’re scared,” David bit his lip and whispered before shoving the timid girl into the grass and walking away.

“Are you okay?” Dwayne asked as he and Marko trudged over to the meek girl, Paul following close behind. “I…yeah? But no? I don’t know?” she responded just really upset and confused at this point. “David gets off on eating people and scaring them but we didn’t think he’d do that,” Marko explained as Dwayne and himself helped (Y/N) up. “Yeah...I noticed,” was all she could get out at that moment. Marko threw his jacket around (Y/N)’s shoulders revealing his fit yet not overtly muscular arms. That’s a little surprising, (Y/N) thought as she felt a blush creeping across her cheeks. With a smirk as if he knew what she was thinking, the short curly haired biker asked, “Something on your mind?” Averting her gaze she replied, “Nope, we should get back to the bikes.”

The three vamps and their frustrated friend walked back in silence. Even when they met up with David…silence. The ride home…silence. Everything about that night became awkward and silent as (Y/N) let it all sink in.

“Hey, we’re sorry about tonight…It was supposed to be a joke, really,” Paul said as he helped (Y/N) off the bike and to her Grandpa’s front door. “Yeah sure…I’ll see you guys later,” she responded, not even making eye contact before heading inside.

taglist: @sadslasher13 @crowleydeclare @bdudette @sophiaj650 @henhouse-horrors

#alex winter #kiefer sutherland #billy wirth #brooke mccarter #marko the lost boys #david the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #paul the lost boys #80s vampires #the lost boys #tlb 1987 #santa carla

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drpepperaddictt · 1 month ago

Text

Oneshot.

` Just a friend, right? `

Orihime x fem! reader.

Summary: Orihime really does love Ichigo, but her friend, y/n, really makes her feel things. Surely she can’t like another girl?

Author’s note: hi. This is my first time writing on tumblr so go easy on me please !! I’ll gladly take constructive criticism. I was learning about the idea of comphet and decided to make this. I usually write on Wattpad so go easy on me.

Ignore the random em dashes at the start of paragraphs, I’m just using them to help me indent.

Warnings: Comphet, uses of y/n (because I don’t know what else to refer to reader as.), sad ending, swearing, mild argument, bad grammar.

— “Orihime!” caught off guard by the sudden call, she quickly turned around to see y/n. Her heart still beating in her chest from the sudden surprise, she spoke.

— “Oh hey n/n! You scared me for a second.. something wrong?..”

— y/n simply giggled for a small moment before looking up to face Orihime. “Ah, don’t worry your little head about it. I just wanted to get your attention.”

— Orihime sighed of relief before she took y/n’s hand, and began walking them towards the place she had been eating lunch in.

— Orihime always felt her heart beating in her chest whenever she was around y/n. Something about her made Orihime feel all warm and fuzzy inside, similar to how Ichigo does.

— Which is weird, because she can’t possibly like another girl, right? She’s suppose to love Ichigo! But oh, how Orihime sometimes felt herself longing for just one second in y/n’s arms.

— But she was sure it was just a phase. She had always been told she was gonna marry a boy, and she was sure Ichigo was the one, so why, oh why, did she feel this way?

— “Orihime? Earth to Orihime?” She was yanked out of her thoughts like a fish stuck on a hook when she finally saw y/n waving her hand in front of her. Her face tinting red in embarrassment.

— “Are you alright? You zoned out for a moment there.”

— “Mhm! Yeah? Yeah?.. I’m alright. Nothing happened!”

— Orihime quickly shook her head, dismissing any questions y/n might’ve had.

— y/n stared at her with a confused, questionable look. Oh well, it was Orihime so she should just let it go.

— Timeskip!

— One day, Orihime had decided to go on a walk with y/n, after all, nothing wrong could happen right?

— Overtime, Orihime had noticed y/n growing more quiet and hesitant. Considering how joyful y/n usually was, Orihime just had to ask.

— “Hey y/n, is something wrong? You’ve been kinda quiet for a while now. Did someone steal all your lunch? Was it a lady with spiky leather boots?”

— y/n let out a small amused smile before letting out a sigh and looking down. “Oh Orihime.. you know I’m in love with you. I’m sorry.”

— Orihime suddenly stepped back. She wanted to jump onto y/n, hold onto her forever, and go on cute little cafe dates with her, but not today, not now, not in this life.

— Orihime felt all fuzzy inside at the confession, but she knew all her urges, all her wishes, her dreams, her thoughts of y/n were wrong. She is suppose to be Ichigo’s, not y/n’s.

— Orihime struggled to get her words out. She couldn’t bare to say words that would break y/n’s heart, especially when y/n was looking into her eyes with such a love-filled gaze..

— “oh y/n.. you know I love Ichigo.. besides, you’re a girl, we can’t love another girl. I do like you, but you’re a girl, and I already have Ichigo.”

— y/n sighed. “You and Ichigo aren’t even together yet, and we don’t even know if Ichigo likes you back.”

— keep in mind, this takes place before the whole hollow bait attack happens.

— Orihime sighed again, as she looked away, tears forming in her eyes. “y/n, you’re a girl. I can’t love you.. Maybe in another life, you were born a boy, I could be with you..”

— “Are you saying only my gender matters? You would only love me if I was a boy? As if being a boy would change anything about my personality?-“

— “No! No! That’s not what I mean at all! Please understand-“ Orihime interrupted, her eyes tear-filled as she tried to look away.

— Orihime hadn’t felt tears stream down her eyes in a while, not since those bullies cut her hair.

— “Oh y/n.. I would really love to spend my life with you, hug you, cuddle you, kiss you, embrace you, but not now. Maybe in another life.”

— “Why not this one?”

— Timeskip.

— Now, years had passed since the incident. It’s been years since she last spoke with y/n. She was happily married to Ichigo now, and she has a kid!

— She’s really happy with Ichigo, but she can’t ignore the missing part of her heart, the part y/n took with her when she left.

— Or did y/n really leave? Or did Orihime just run away from y/n, away from her feelings, and even running away from her own?

— Oh maybe in another universe, she could be with y/n. But not this one, if only y/n had been born a boy.

— Orihime found herself sitting down on her porch, gazing up at the setting sun in the breezy autumn air.

— y/n was her sun, the sunset was her leaving, and the night was her life now. Sure, the sunset is beautiful, until you realize the darkness that arrives after, but you have to find the beauty in the night, like the moon and stars, and ignore that the one thing that made you feel warm is gone.

— Orihime sighed once more, the cold air making her sigh appear as a white puff of air, before she decided to mumble some words to herself.

— “If y/n was a guy, she’d be the love of my life.”

— yes, that was a Nana reference.

The end!!!!!!!

Author’s note: this was not proof-read so don’t yell at me. But thank you for reading through my trashy first blog! I have to finish up a fic on Wattpad but I’ll try to drop oneshots on here after I’m done with the fic.

Tysm!!

#orihime inoue #bleach #bleach orihime #comphet #light angst #y/n #x reader #first post #wlw angst #good luck babe

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spaghettificationandpretzels · 2 years ago

Note

If you haven’t received a Guero ask yet, I would like him with with prompt #4: 'I'm cold, and you're warm, you should do something about that." Pretty please!

Even though I love his dad more, he’s still a really cute guy!

Masterlist

Eventful Outing

Contains: Fishing (killing fish for food given a two-word mention) fluff.

1.4 K words

“When it rains on the ocean it rains on fish too.” - Matshona Dhliwayo.

As you stood in the rain with the river flowing by you, you wondered why you had agreed to this, "I brought plenty of food, can't we go inside until the rain eases up?"

Guero snorted, "No fucking way, I told you I was going to catch us a fish for dinner and I am."

You looked to his father, who shook his head, "The young man had a plan y/n, I'm sure we won't be waiting long."

When Guero got you to agree to go on a fishing trip up north with him and Ibarra, you didn't think that would mean being stuck in the rain while they struggled to catch dinner, "It's not Salmon season so the only fish you're going to get now is Bass. You need to put different bait on the line."

Guero glared at you, but there was no fire behind it, "You could have told us that an hour ago."

His father huffed, "I tried to son, but you wanted things your way, telling me you read a book and shit. But now a pretty woman tells you and you're rushing to do what she says."

Guero walked towards the shore, making sure to flick water at you as he took different bait from the box, "You wanna tell me how you know all of this and I don't?"

You blinked, "I wasn't the only one, it's not a my fault you don't listen to me or your father."

Guero smirked, "I listen to you where it counts."

Despite your best efforts, you couldn't ignore the snicker that his dad gave, "Please shut up before I drown you."

He turned to his father and inhaled in fake offence, "Do you hear how she talks to me Pops?"

Ibarra shook his head, "You deserve it son, you got a big mouth."

Your eyes widen in agreement, "Doesn't he? Holy shit, sometimes he won't shut up." Guero gave you a look and you held up a hand, "I know what you're about to say and if the words come out of your mouth I'm going to drown you for sure."

He chuckled, "I wasn't going to say anything."

Ibarra's hearty chuckle followed, "Yes, you were, it was as obvious as something can be."

You shook your head, "Ok if this keeps going, I will drown myself." Still, you knew that look on Guero's face, "You are incorrigible."

He smiled, "You love me."

You sighed, "Yes, I do. Now please catch us food. I'm freezing my ass off over here and I know for sure I packed enough food to last us, so I'm only standing here to preserve your ego."

He hands his father a chunk of bait before baiting his hook and throwing the line, "How did you know about the bait anyway? You hate camping."

"One, we're not camping, we're staying in a cabin and two, I like to be prepared, so I talked to the bait shop attendant." You pointed to the box, "There's even stuff in there for crayfish since I bought a pamphlet for how to build traps from sticks and leaves and I thought you might like to try it."

Ibarra smiled, "How thoughtful. That would be great y/n, I love crayfish."

Guero turned to you and mouthed, "Kissass." But his eye betrayed how much he appreciated the amount of investment you had put towards this vacation.

There was a change in the light and you looked up, the clouds growing even more ominous, "We're about to get a storm so you two better hurry up."

Guero chuckled, "So you can predict the weather now? Tell me oh wise one, what other powers do you...." The skies opened in a torrent of water, "I stand corrected."

You sighed, "I'd say you've got about twenty minutes before the thunder starts."

"We'll have a fish by then." Guero sounded so sure of himself that there was no point in dissenting and sure enough, when the first crack of thunder came across the sky, Guero's rod jerked, "I told you."

After a few mighty heaves, it was out of the water and dispatched humanely and Ibarra reeled in his line and sighed, "Alright then, can we go inside before we're hit by lightning."

"Please, I'm freezing to death." You were so cold you swore your fingers were going to fall off.

Guero chuckled, "Hell yeah."

Everyone headed inside and wrapped themselves in towels, "I'm going to clean and prep that fish and have a shower, no touches it."

"I caught it, don't you think I should be the one to cook it." He was as smug as ever.

Your eyes went wide, "No fucking way. A light and sweet river fish this fresh only has two preparation, baked with crispy skin or poisson en papillote. The oven here isn't powerful enough to bake it properly so poisson en papillote is it."

Guero looked at you with such affection that you felt your heart might burst, "I have no idea what poisson en papillote but there was enough passion in your voice to let me know I should give up."

Ibarra smiled, "It's French for fish in paper. It's really nice."

Guero snorted, "Since when did you two get so fancy?"

You sighed, "Please finely slice some onions. If you've got time to be all judgy, then you have time to help."

Guero smirked, "I can do that."

****

"Thish is sho good, you have to coo thish all the time."

You shook your head, "Guero, don't talk with your mouth full, it's rude."

"It is very good, all that time in the rain was worth it." You could tell Ibarra was trying extra hard, he knew how much his son loved you, and he wanted to make the most of the time away.

You nodded, "I don't think I've ever cooked with fish that fresh, maybe tomorrow we can try and get some crayfish."

Guero suppressed a smile, "Look at you two getting along, and here I thought y/n was rude to everyone. I guess it's just me."

You huffed in mock offence, "I am not rude to you, I just don't worship the ground you walk on like the other women you've spent you time with." The glare you fixed him stopped him from quipping back, "Yeah, that's what I thought. You're big mouth is going to get you into trouble one day."

Ibarra, "It's already got him into plenty. Do you know about the time he landed in the principle's office for talking shit to a cop that came by the school to give a career talk?"

"No, but I'm hoping you're going to tell me now." You weren't going to lie, you were hoping Ibarra would provide you at least one embarrassing story before you made your way back to SP.

Guero chuckled, "Oh, you're having so much fun aren't you."

You nodded, "Fuck yeah."

****

The night wound down, this fish picked clean and the bread pudding Ibarra gone in one sitting. You tended to the fire in your room and shivered as Guero came up behind you, "Let me do that Mi amor."

You pressed your lips to his cheek as you headed to the bed, moaning as the warmth from the heated blanket surrounded your skin, "You turned it on?"

He nodded, "Of course. I can't have you going to bed cold now, can I?"

With the fire stoked, he climbed into bed and rested on his back next to you and just as he got comfortable, you stretched your cold foot across the bed and brushed him with it, "Jesus Christ."

You flipped onto your side, "I'm cold, and you're warm, you should do something about that."

Guero sighed and freed himself of his shirt before reaching over and manhandling yours off, after that, he pulled you into his arms so your skin was pressed again his, "Better?"

You nodded, "Yep."

He ran a hand up and down your back and rubbed your nose with his, "This is the closest we've been all day."

You pecked his cheek, "Yeah I know, but I don't really want to make out with you in front of your father."

He smiled, "It's not like he hasn't seen some shit."

You huffed, "Next time he can bring someone and then it won't be awkward."

Guero's eyebrows furrowed, "On second thought."

You shook your head, "I have spent the whole day missing touching you."

"Yeah?" He sounded so smug, "Maybe there's something I can do for that?"

"Nope, we're going to bed." As much as you wanted to, you had no idea how thin the walls were.

He buried his nose in your hair and inhaled, "Alright Mi amor, I love you."

"Goodnight Guero, I love you too."

Fin

@withmyteeth @daydreaming-belle

#mayans mc #guero fanfic #guero x reader #guero mayans #guero #andrew jacobs #mayans

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handspunyarns · 2 years ago

Text

You Were Marked: Day Three.

pairing: din djarin x fem!O/C

word count: 6.6k

summary: The Dahls rise to mate.

warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI! , Mando'a and English cursing, unprotected PiV sexual situations, non-con sexual situations

You Were Marked: Masterlist

<-You Were Marked: Previous Chapter

Din awoke the next morning the same way he had the previous morning: flat on his back, floating in a fragrant cloud of herbs and dried flowers. He slowly opened his eyes to see golden diffused sunlight streaming in angles across the dark curtains that surrounded him. A light breeze luffed the fabric panels, revealing triangles of bright sunshine. He felt warm from a deep, dreamless sleep that was restful rather than restless. He heard the clatter of a metal pot lid, the hiss of meat hitting a hot pan. He sat up, rolling his left shoulder that was always stiff upon waking up, the shoulder that would always make a hard click noise when he moved it. He tilted his head to the left side, then to the right, relishing the series of cracks his spine made, realizing that his usually sore back did not hurt at all this fine morning. Rolling to his feet, he parted the curtains, and looked down to see the carcass of a partially eviscerated dead furry animal of some sort on the floor.

Well, good morning to you too, he thought. He looked over to the fire to see Marathel cooking with her usual brisk efficiency. Grogu sat on the table, playing with what appeared to be some smooth stones. His gaze returned to the dead critter. “So . . . What happened here?”

Marathel took a quick glance over her shoulder. “The Dahls brought you a gift.”

“This is their idea of a gift?”

“There were actually three of them. I’ve already got two skinned and gutted, but I thought you’d like to at least see one of them.”

Din nudged the carcass with the toe of his boot. “What was this thing?”

“A gochgoch.”

“Well, that tells me nothing.”

Marathel shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you, other than that’s the noise they make, and they’re not good for much other than dried meat.” Din picked up the carcass between his thumb and forefinger, bringing it over to Marathel. He laid it on a wooden board on the counter where she had processed the other two critters. “You should feel very privileged. Dahls are not known for sharing food. You must have impressed them much.”

“I’m sure that has more to do with Grogu than it has to do with me.”

“Perhaps, perhaps not. He is easy to love. You, however . . .” She left the thought unfinished and went back to her cooking pots. “Are you hungry?”

“Not especially.”

“Gochgoch guts too much for you?”

“No,” Din said, turning to the table. “I just feel that I am being too idle and eating too much.” He stacked three of the stones for Grogu to knock over. Grogu squealed. “Grogu, on the other hand . . . I sometimes worry that he does not have time to play. To be a child.”

Marathel looked over her shoulder to see Din stroking the child’s ear. Grogu purred with contentment, gazing up at his foster father. The sight tugged at her heart, reminding her that her own childhood was far different. A thought occurred to her. “Have you taught him how to fish?”

“Fish? Not yet.” Din hadn’t gone fishing in years. The idea was tempting.

“The boys here learn to fish and hunt. I sometimes fish myself, but I don’t often have time.” She rummaged around in her stack of baskets until she found her lengths of dry line and hooks. Within a few minutes, she had packed a bag with the fishing gear, some food, a jar of water, and a blanket. “This should work. If you keep going past the necessary, you will see a path. Follow that past my vegetable garden, and it will go down towards the sea. There is a river that feeds into it. There are tidal flats that Grogu will enjoy running on.”

Din reached for the bag. Their fingertips touched. Time stopped for a moment. Din recovered first, taking the bag from her. “Bait?”

“I put some gochgoch meat in there. It should be enough for you to catch some bait.”

“What will we be catching?”

“At this time of day? Probably just bait.” Marathel shrugged with a smirk. “Do you have a knife in that basket of weapons?”

Din wasn’t going to tell her he had a knife in his boot. Possibly two. “I have a knife.”

“Then you’re set. I must tend the garden, but I will come down later to make sure you don’t get dragged away by the Great Godynferth.”

Din tilted his helmet. “I assume there’s a story there.”

“Maybe you’ll get to hear it. If you’re lucky.”

Din and Grogu followed Marathel’s directions and found the tidal flats that she described. It seemed to be an ancient lava field that had flowed from the mountain where the Mist originated. The tide had gone out, leaving the tidal flats empty, save for the occasional low wave that spread out over the rocks. The river was a sizeable one that fed into the sea. Din talked Grogu through the process of tying a hook to the line, and how to bait it before casting the line into the river. After a few false starts – Grogu had thrown the entire line into the shallows a few times – Grogu toddled through the shallow water, dragging the line behind him, enticing small fish to nip on the gochgoch bait. Din found a long reed to use as a pole, cutting a slice to thread the line through the end, wrapping the line down the pole so that he could feel with his fingers if there were a bite on his line. Marathel was correct: they only caught the kind of fish that was good as bait. Grogu, of course, preferred to eat the fish, instead of allowing Din to cut them up. Then Grogu realized he could just levitate the little fish out of the water using the Force, abandoning the fishing line altogether. Din lost count of how many times he said put it down, Grogu as Grogu happily splashed in the water, surrounded by little flying fish. He eventually gave up and removed Grogu’s robe and pants so he could play unencumbered. Din set his pole between two rocks beside him, in case he got a bite – and settled back against a large boulder to watch Grogu scamper over the tidal flats. The child brought Din little treasures: some pretty shells, a crab, a curled piece of driftwood. Din traded these for the bits of dried fruit and meat Marathel had packed for them and arranged the shells and driftwood on a large flat stone next to him, allowing the crab to scuttle away.

It was sometime later when he felt the ping of a small stone hitting the top of his helmet. “Wake up, Bounty Hunter.”

“Wasn’t sleeping.” This was technically true. Resting his eyes was not sleeping.

Marathel came up beside him. She had a light wrap around her head and neck to keep the sun off her, and she carried a large basket of vegetables in one arm and a wooden rake over her shoulder. She looked out at Grogu. “Well, if that isn’t the cutest little bare green bottom I’ve ever seen.” She set down her load and sat down next to Din, stretching out her legs and crossing her dirty feet in front of her. “What did you catch?”

“Bait.”

“Unfortunately, there’s not much on this side of the Hold. They fish on the far side of the Hold, away from here. Big fish over there.” She found the clay jar of water and took a long drink from it. “Your armor must keep you terribly warm.”

Din shrugged. “The sun is always shining when you’re wearing a metal helmet,” he said sagely.

Marathel burst out laughing, finishing with a most unladylike snort that caused Grogu to turn to her. Upon seeing her, he ran towards her, giggling. He leapt into her lap for hugs, which Marathel was more than happy to give. She picked out a large orange berry-looking fruit from her basket and tore it in half, giving a piece to Grogu. Grogu relinquished the clam shell he had been playing with, took the fruit, and toddled back to the tide flat. Watching him go, she bit into her half of the fruit, juice dribbling down her chin. Din gazed at her while she wiped her chin with her sleeve. “How ever did such a charming child end up with the likes of you?”

Din turned his eyes back to Grogu. “He was a bounty. Some . . . very bad people wanted to cause him harm. I kept him with me instead of turning him over to the bad people.”

Marathel frowned, trying to think of the words. “It was good of you to keep him safe, even though I do not understand what a bounty is, or why you hunt them.”

“I do it for the money. It pays well enough.” He didn’t feel the need to discuss how dangerous it was.

“Money? I don’t understand.”

Din was not surprised in the least that she didn’t know what money was. “When I find people, I receive a reward.”

“So,a bounty has . . . worth?” Din nodded. “And when you bring me to the Hold, with the eggs . . . you will receive a reward?” He nodded again. “What is my worth?”

Din was silent for a moment. “I was offered 167 Ossum Aurodium coins for you.”

“Is that a lot?”

“If they are in fact Aurodium, from Ossum, minted into coins, that would be worth an exceptional lot.” Marathel looked down to her hands, dirty from digging in the dirt. She slipped them into her sleeves. The fact that The Bishop would offer a stranger from another planet what was apparently something so valuable for her . . . it added another layer of dread to her thoughts. So much for the thin thread of hope that The Bishop would forget that she existed. Her eyes drifted closed in despair. “What I don’t understand, though,” continued Din, “is . . . why . . . there would be Aurodium coins here.” Marathel’s eyes flashed open. That was not what she expected him to wonder about. “It doesn’t make sense that this self-sustaining Hold you have here would have anything like Aurodium to trade or offer. You know nothing about the history of your planet, right? How your people got here?”

Marathel looked down to her knees. “No. Nothing. The Hold has always been there. The Elders have always been there.”

Din was tapping his finger in irritation on one of the shells next to him. “The Elders.” He turned to her. “Were you . . . betrothed to this Bishop? Why is it so important that you go back to him?”

Marathel opened her mouth to answer, but then closed it again. After a long time, she said, “I was . . . supposed to be a Whyn, but when Diwhyn Olba realized I could hear the Dahls when no one else could, she knew it was . . . safer for me to be out of the Hold.”

“That also doesn’t make sense. And what is a Whyn? There’s something more to it than just a girl who has grown up, isn’t there?” Marathel lifted her head, but then her attention was suddenly and completely stolen from Din’s words. He noticed that she was no longer listening to him but was focused on Grogu in amazement. He looked over to see Grogu levitating a tentacled creature, larger than he was, over his head. The creature was slowly twirling like a gyroscope.

“Frith in heaven,” she breathed. “What . . . How . . .”

Din sighed. “Yeah, he does that too.”

“He can . . . heal, and he can . . . lift things?”

“Grogu has powers with the Force. His people were Jedi.”

Marathel frowned. “Magic, then?”

Din tilted his head. “Well, no, not magic at all. The Force is . . . an energy that flows through the universe, and certain people, they can . . . harness and use it. I don’t understand it much myself.”

“That must make your life interesting.”

After a moment, Din answered, “It is an adventure.”

They sat quietly for a long time. Din wanted to keep asking her questions, but when he turned to look at her, he saw such sadness in her face that he remained silent. She drew her legs under her to stand. “We should go, so that we are not caught out in the darkness. The Dahls are restless, and when they’re restless . . . they can be dangerous.” She walked out to collect Grogu, removing her headscarf to wrap around the little green body. Din pocketed the shells and driftwood and collected Marathel’s basket and rake. She raised her head to look at him, standing on one hip, holding her basket like it weighed nothing, the rake over his shoulder, armor reflecting the sunlight. She felt a hitch in her heart, and then chided herself for thinking foolish thoughts. If only the straight-line path of her life could go in a different direction. She may be currently sidetracked, living Holdless as she was, but her future loomed larger as she heard the Dahls louder and louder in her head. Tired, Grogu’s head clonked against her shoulder. She pressed her cheek to his, and a single tear dropped from her eye to land on his petal-soft ear. Grogu lifted a tiny hand to her mouth, which she kissed, and felt better.

It took a while to walk back. Marathel seemed to get more distracted as they walked along. She kept slowing her pace to gaze out over the distance. Sometimes she just stopped walking to close her eyes and take deep breaths. Din frowned at her under his helmet. Had he managed to upset her with his questions? Was she falling ill, or experiencing some after-effects from the Mist? He finally ended up walking ahead of her, depositing the heavy basket of vegetables in the kitchen, replacing the rake, and then meeting her back at the steps to collect Grogu. He took Grogu from her, headscarf and all, accidentally taking hold of her tunic as well. He muttered “Sorry,” under his breath, but then kept out a hand for her to assist her up the steps, which surprised her. Surely, he didn’t think I needed help to go up three steps? she thought. Still, she took his gloved hand, and he did give a slight pull on her as she ascended into the hut. Dropping her hand, Din unwound the wrap from Grogu. “He really should have a bath,” he said. “Is it all right if I bathe Grogu in the sink?”

Marathel nodded. “Of course.” She set about adding hot water to the reservoir, finding towels, bringing the jar of soap off its shelf. She noticed that Din kept his gloves on to bathe the child rather than remove them in her presence. As she chopped vegetables for dinner, she stole glances over to the sink on the other side of the hob, smiling as Din created stand-up curls of soapy hair on the green child’s head. “You are a good parent to him, Bounty Hunter.”

Din considered that high praise, coming from her. “I try.” He poured a cup of water over Grogu’s head. He didn't know why it was so easy to speak to this woman, but being around her loosened his tongue. “I wish my own parents had lived longer, so that I could have learned more about how to parent from them.”

Marathel was immediately saddened. “You lost your parents when you were young? I am so sorry.”

Din lifted Grogu out onto a fluffy towel. “A foundling raising a foundling seems appropriate. You probably got to grow up with your family in the Hold.”

Marathel put her knife down. “I actually don’t know who my mother is.” Din paused in his drying of Grogu to look at her. “All the children are raised together in the Hold. All the Whyns who give birth raise all the children together. There are no families.”

This struck Din as incredibly sad. In the covert, although the children were also all raised together as a village, each child who had parents in the covert knew who they were and lived in their family units. Even the foundlings had the fortune of being apprenticed to an adult Mandalorian who served as a foster parent. “Diwhyn Olba was not your mother?”

Marathel moved on to slicing meat. “She might have been. If she was, I never knew. She did not tell me.”

“What of your father?”

Marathel stood still for a moment. “I know who my father is, yes.” Her tone indicated to Din that she would not continue on this subject, and she returned to her slicing. Din went back to drying Grogu. Then he heard Marathel hiss, “Oh, for the love of Frith!” Din looked over to see that Marathel had cut her fingertip quite badly. He took a step towards her. “I’m fine!” she snapped, sticking her finger in her mouth. Din did not offer to help her again and dressed Grogu in clean clothes. She wrapped her finger with a bit of towel and began slamming things in the kitchen in irritation. She couldn’t find the herbs she wanted; the meat cooked unevenly; the pot of grains boiled over. Din stayed silent, entertaining Grogu on the steps, giving her wide berth. She finally served the dinner, and Din fed Grogu on the steps. Grogu seemed to be happy about what she had made, but then he would eat anything that would remotely be food. Din set the child down to run around the yard, and he brought the dish back to the kitchen. He saw Marathel sitting on the bench closest to the fire, her back to him, elbows on her knees, her face in her hands. He didn’t want to raise her ire, so he placed the dish in the sink without a word, the clunks of his boots making his presence known. Marathel sat up and sighed. “Forgive me. I am . . . cranky.”

“Naas baatir.”

“And that means . . .?”

“’It is nothing.’”

“At any rate, thank you.”

“Naas baatir.”

She softly snickered at that and got up to make their late afternoon tea. His with a saucer, hers without. Din was already at his usual place on the steps; Marathel placed the tea at his hip and sat at her usual place on the other end of the steps. The late afternoon shadows were already creeping across the yard. Marathel held her mug in both hands, hunched over, her elbows on her knees. Her head was bobbing slightly as if she were hearing a staccato drumbeat in her head. Din watched her out of the corner of his eye as her thumbs began tapping on the edge of her mug. This went on for some time. He finally turned his head to ask what the shab was wrong with her, but she must have noticed his movement, as she turned her head and snapped, “It is . . . It is naas . . .Naas . . .”

“Naas baatir.”

“Naas baatir. As you say.” Marathel put her mug down on the step -- a bit harder than she had intended -- and pushed herself into a standing position. She ran her hands roughly through her hair, piling it up on top of her head with her hands, then letting it fall. She closed her eyes and took a deep calming breath, before walking out to Grogu in the yard. Calmer now, she sat next to Grogu and began to weave the pile of flowers he had picked into crowns and necklaces, all of which she draped over him. By the time she was done, Grogu was twice his size, the floral crowns piled high on his head, bracelets from his shoulders to his hands, and so many necklaces only his eyes were visible above them. Grogu happily trotted off to show Din, who laughed, stood up and then bent into a deep and formal bow, proclaiming, “Your Majesty!” Marathel laughed too as Din picked up Grogu and held him high above his head, flowers falling and bouncing off his helmet. Din lowered the boy and tucked him into the crook of his arm. Marathel sat where she was, elbows wrapped around her knees, watching the armored man interact with tiny green child, her smile falling from her face. She closed her eyes and swallowed. The Dahls were getting noisy again in her head. She grimaced and looked out towards the tall grasslands, wondering how she was going to get through the night. Finally, she stood up and walked into the stream up to her ankles, the setting sun to her back, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, forcing herself to breathe as naturally as possible.

Din watched her as she stood ankle-deep in the cold stream, her shoulders rising and falling with each breath, the sunlight reflecting on her silver hair, turning it into a burnished gold color. Something was wrong with her; he knew that much. She had said the first day that eggs would be coming in four or five days, and this was day three of his time here. He decided that she was nervous about having to go to the Hold to deliver the eggs; it was more than obvious she feared The Bishop.

He felt Grogu growing heavier in his arms; the child had a long, exciting day, and the flowers were lulling him to sleep. Din carefully removed all the garlands from Grogu and made a bower of the floating pram, laying the dozing child in the center of the flowers. “Sweet dreams, buddy,” whispered Din as he shut the lid of the pram. He wondered for the briefest of moments if there might be insects in the flowers, then figured that Grogu could have a midnight snack if that were the case. By the time he looked up again, Marathel had left the yard. Looking around, he noticed that she was walking through the stream, past the hut and away, deep in her own thoughts. Din picked up the mugs and took the opportunity to lift his helmet enough to drink his tea, thinking that he needed to find out what herbs were in it before he left this planet. He put a little hot water in her mug of tea to warm it up, leaving it on the table. After a moment’s thought he put the saucer over it. After another moment’s thought he put one of the fallen flowers on top of the saucer. Then, worried that she might misconstrue the gesture, he removed the flower. He was standing there, overthinking a silly flower, when Marathel stepped back up onto the platform at the back corner. “What are you doing, Bounty Hunter?”

His head snapped around as if she’d caught him stealing her entire stash of bread. “I, uh . . . warmed up your tea.”

She stood there, staring at him silently with a quizzical look on her face. She reached over, removed the saucer, and took the mug. “I think I will lie down. Excuse me.” She turned and disappeared behind her curtains. Din glowered down at the little yellow flower in his hand, as if it were the source of his confusion and irritation. With a small sigh, he walked over to the steps the furthest away from her curtains as possible – as loudly as his steps could be, for her benefit -- and sat down. After a while, Din tucked the little yellow flower away in the inner pocket that held the shells and driftwood from earlier that day. He leaned against the post, and stared into the sky as the stars began coming out, listening to the yip-yip-yehs of the Dahls in the far distance.

Marathel could not sleep. She could not relax. She tried to stay as quiet as possible, knowing that the Bounty Hunter was probably still awake and able to hear every move she made as the rushes in her sleeping tick crackled. Damn these rushes, she thought. Damn my desire to be comfortable. She wished for her worn-out pallet that she had in the Hold. It had been very thin, and she had felt every stone of the kitchen floor underneath it, but it didn’t make any noise to announce that she was not sleeping. She rolled to her back, stretching her arms out, trying in vain to let her body receive any cool breeze it could, but the air was still, and the yip-yip-yehs of the Dahls carried easily in the night air, but they were even louder inside her head, reverberating with her heartbeats. With a soft grunt, she rolled to her feet, giving up on any kind of sleep. She left her curtains on the kitchen side, hoping not to attract attention. She wanted cool water, but all she had was what was left in the reservoir. The fire had gone out, but the water there was still too warm. it was too dark -- even with the moonlight -- to see if her hanging waterskin still held water, so she grabbed the small lantern that she kept above the dry sink, shaking it to wake up the glow worms inside, giving off a pale light.

It was the light source that made Din turn his head in her direction. He had been sitting quietly, still leaning against the post, facing her curtains. He had been listening to her toss and turn, and heard her get up. The floating pram was quiet. He was surprised to see that she had any kind of lantern. She lived like a farmer – up with the sunrise and down with the sunset. The lantern hardly gave off any light at all, and all he could really see was her outline as she held her hair on top of her head with one hand as she held a wet cloth to the back of her neck with the other. As his eyes dragged down her back, he could see that she was wearing a thin gown with a wrap over it. He stood, hoping not to startle her, his boots announcing his presence on the wooden plank floor. She took a deep breath, dropped her hair, tossing her cloth on the counter, moving past her curtains and out of sight. He followed her. He turned to his left, just past her curtains, when he saw her leaning against a post, her back to him. Her arms were wrapped around the post tightly as she hugged it.

Din crept closer. “What is wrong?”

Marathel gave a raspy sigh. “It’s the Dahls.”

Din stood quietly, listening to the cries of the Dahls. “They are very loud tonight.”

She dropped her forehead to the post. “They’re rising to mate.”

A long pause. “I see.”

Marathlel’s breath grew faster and more ragged. “I can hear them.”

“I hear them too.”

She shook her head vigorously. “No! I . . . hear them. Not just in here,” she said, indicating her ears. “But here . . .” she put her hands on her head. “In here,” her shaking hands crossed over her chest, and her wrap fell to the floor, leaving her only in a whisper of a nightgown. “And here . . .” her hands slid down her breasts to her belly.

Din took in her words, the full truth finally getting through to him -- then he breathed out, “ Oh. ”

Marathel panted, wrapping her legs around the post, pulling herself close to it with a low moan. Din stepped forward and bent to retrieve her wrap. As he straightened up, Marathel suddenly leaned back, holding the post, and her spine met his beskar cuirass. Her head shot up with a gasp, and she immediately tried to press harder against him.

“I’ve . . . always been alone before . . .I don't . . . I haven't . . .” she whimpered.

Din stood motionless, holding her wrap with one hand. He closed his eyes tightly, knowing that he should back off, that he should leave her, that he should just take Grogu and walk off into the night, but just then she dipped her knees, rubbing her backside against the front of his breeches, where he did not wear beskar. His eyes opened, his penis twitching into life against his will, and from that moment, there was no existing force that could make him leave. She mewled deep in her throat, grabbing at the cuisses he wore on his thighs, pressing her round buttocks harder against him. She turned around slowly, taking hold of whatever piece of armor or flight suit she could grab, desperately pressing whatever part of her body she could against his. She scrabbled at his cuirass, pulling him towards her against the post, her teeth bared, her eyes gone dark and glazed, her breasts heaving against the thin fabric of her gown.

Din grabbed at the post with the hand holding her wrap over her shoulder, his own breath growing ragged. He heard her growl as she clawed at his chest armor, breaking her fingernails. He reached up with his free hand to release the catches and the armor fell to the floor. She clutched at his now-exposed flight suit, straddling his thigh, rubbing herself hard against the armor there, her own thigh pressed firmly into his crotch as his erection grew. He automatically rutted against her thigh, pressing his whole body against hers, pinning her to the post, feeling the weight of her breasts against his flight suit. She quietly growled again, sliding her hips to his center, curling her spine, thrusting her pelvis against his, her barely covered vulva against his clothed tumescent cock, matching his rhythm. His knees were slightly bent to accommodate her, so she wrapped her own legs around his, placing her bare feet on the backs of his calves, and climbed him like a tree until her thighs were wrapped tightly around his ribs, continuing to thrust her hips against his, her arms clutched around his shoulders. Gasping, he reached under his helmet to rip his glove off his free hand with his teeth, and he reached between them, shuddering at her heat, her wetness, her unspoken pleading against the back of his bare hand. He could barely register the thought that he was touching her with his bare skin as he clumsily loosened his breeches and opened them enough to let his cock spring free, aching, desperate for her. He felt his tip touch her hot wet center, thinking that he should go slow into her, thinking that he should be gentle, thinking that she didn’t have control of herself, that this wasn’t Marathel before him but a woman with a mind and body possessed, when she lowered her chin, her dark eyes flashing at him, her teeth bared in a snarl, and she dropped her weight enough to impale herself onto him, forcing his cock as deep into her as it would go. She gave a small cry, throwing her head back against the post, her knees squeezing his ribs hard enough to break them, her thighs going into spasm as she immediately, powerfully, exquisitely , came. He felt the flutter of her pussy against his cock, and he thrusted madly against her, pinning her to the post, his hand not holding the post clutching a cheek of her round, sweet, soft, ass, losing all control of his previous thoughts of gentility. Her thighs continued to squeeze, her pussy continued to clutch, her cries continued to peal against his helmet, as she rode out not so much a series of orgasms as one long continuous one that seemed to ebb and flow as she moved her hips in counterpoint against his. With every thrust, Din grew weaker and weaker, the greyness that had been just around the very edges of his vision growing stronger and stronger. Her return thrusts grew more determined against him, harder, faster, her pussy clasping his cock as if she were sucking the very life out of it, and Din began to feel that he might just pass out before he came if she kept this up.

At that moment, she thrust her hips furiously against him, squeezing her thighs even harder than he had thought possible, locking her ankles together, driving her heels into his spine, rendering him motionless with a ragged cry before she dropped her face against his chest, biting him hard through the flight suit as she trembled and fell apart at the peak of her long-riding orgasm. The pain of her teeth sinking into his chest sent him right over the edge, grunting, his hips convulsing against her as he finally released into her. First spasm, second spasm, gasping against her shoulder as he willed his body to finish before he fell to the floor. He twitched his hips, he had more that he desperately needed to fill her with, when he sensed, he felt, her body change against his. Her gasps of frantic pleasure were now gasps of panic; he felt her whole body stiffen, her head drawing back against the post, her hands pressing against his chest with a need to escape as Marathel came back into herself, displacing the raw need of the mating Dahls that had just completely possessed her. All this happened in the tiniest of moments, but he needed a bit more time, so he kept her captive, whispering, “Wait, wait,” into her ear, as he felt his pelvis and testicles clench. Third spasm. Marathel gasped. “Shhhhhhhh,” he breathed. He grunted again as the fourth and last spasm finally went through him and into her. Marathel gasped again, this time with a little cry. “Shhhhhhhh”, he whispered again. “You’re okay. You're okay.” He kept himself pressed against her, his upper arms holding her thighs against his sides, willing his breathing back to normal, as his erection faded. Her body was still completely tensed up, ready to spring away at the slightest opportunity. He slowly, carefully reached between them, the back of his hand touching her again, causing her to whimper as he removed himself from her, tucking his now-flaccid penis back in his breeches. He then used that same hand to gently remove her trembling left leg from his waist, carefully setting her foot back on the floor, smoothing down her nightgown against her thigh. He switched hands on the post, performing the same task with his other hand on her other leg. Still keeping her captive against the post, he pulled his head back to see her staring with wide eyes at his left pauldron. He took the wrap, miraculously still in his hand after all this, and carefully draped it over her shoulders, covering her front to grant her some modesty. He looked down at her. She continued to stare at his shoulder, trembling, biting her lips. “Hey,” he said softly. Her wide eyes shifted to his helmet. “All right?” She nodded and looked away. He took a half-step back, turning his head so that he would not see her gown, which had been captured at her waist, fall back down to her ankles. Finally released from his grasp, she turned and launched herself off the platform and into the night.

Din took one shaky breath, then a second, and then collapsed with his shoulder against the post. Dank ferrik, he thought weakly. It hurt his shoulder, but at that moment he was thankful for that damned post, otherwise he would have face-planted on the floor. He released the catches on his helmet and quickly pulled it off, feeling the cool air on his face and hair as sweat dripped into his eyes. He looked off to where Marathel had run and saw nothing. The lantern was much dimmer now, but he figured he didn’t have much time before she came back. He went to the sink, grabbed the cloth she had used on her neck, resoaked it in the now-cool water from the reservoir, and quickly wiped his face, head, and neck before replacing his helmet. He took a quick glance over his shoulder and still didn’t see her, so he quickly opened his breeches to clean himself up, making sure the cloth ended up in her dirty laundry basket. He replaced his glove and reached down to pick up his cuirass when the fabric of his flight suit dragged across his chest, reminding him that she had wounded him.

He went to the lantern, which was now almost completely dimmed out. He gave it a shake as he had seen Marathel do, and the glow worms within glowed brightly again. He opened his vest to find that she had indeed bitten him rather badly. As he sought out a clean cloth and her jar of soap, he saw Marathel returning, clutching her wrap around her tightly. He turned his back to her so as not to expose the wound – or his bare chest -- to her as he cleaned the bite mark. A ridiculous move, he thought, considering that they had just fucked like blood-hungry womp rats against a post, but he did it anyway. She climbed up on the platform, decidedly not looking at him, and went to the sink to wash her hands and brush her teeth. Glancing over his shoulder again at her bent form, he said, “You bit me.”

She froze for a moment. “Is it bad?”

“It broke the skin.”

“I, um. . .” Putting down her toothbrush, she reached up past his shoulder and brought down a jar that looked familiar. Her breasts brushed against the back of his flight suit, and she jumped back. “Use this salve. It will keep infection away.” She went back to the sink and her toothbrush.

Din used the salve as directed and closed his flight suit. Lifting his cuirass over his shoulders he asked, “Does your cycle follow the Dahls’ cycle?”

Marathel fell still again, and her face grew hot as she realized what he was asking her. She swallowed and said, “No. No, it does not.”

Din nodded. “You should be okay anyway; I’m fixed.”

“I’m sorry?”

Din clicked the last of the catches on his armor. “I’m shooting blanks.”

Marathel softly said, “Oh,” and went back to brushing her teeth. She didn’t understand what he was talking about, but she knew that she did not have the courage to ask. She returned her toothbrush to its proper place. Din walked back to the floating pram, glad that it was still completely shut. He was not ready to have that conversation anytime soon. They each moved to their curtained partitions, but they both paused, both knowing that words were being left unsaid and both unsure if they would – or should -- stay that way. Din turned to look at Marathel. Marathel had half-turned, but her eyes were downcast. She stammered, “I . . . good night,” and escaped behind her curtains for the second time that night. The pale fabric fluttered closed. Din stepped behind his dark curtains and laid down, flat on his back, and linked his fingers together across his stomach. He blinked into the darkness and thought, Well, that was different.

Marathel sank down to a sitting position on her sleeping tick, staring off into space for a long time after the Bounty Hunter had fallen asleep. Over and over in her head she thought, dear Frith in heaven, what have I done?

You Were Marked: Next Chapter ->

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dubiousduskwight · 5 months ago

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Day 5: Stamp

Fishing off the edge of Pier #2 was an everyday kind of farce in Kugane. A good catch wasn’t impossible, but the anglers that congregated around the dock stuck near boats where they were unlikely to get a bite. Many didn’t even bother to bait their hooks. During the day it was a place for those with someone to avoid and nothing better to do beyond gossip with the locals. At night, it was a useful place for calm and quiet, and many a henpecked spouse stayed out late “fishing at the pier” only to come home empty-handed.

Calm and quiet also made the pier a useful place for clandestine nighttime meetings, something the Sekiseigumi also knew, which is why Suzume only went fishing during the day. Despite the bustle of daytime business, it was harder to be observed among the business at the docks. Don’t do anything outlandish, focus on the rod and water, and every so often, cast and recast, and blend in. Few would notice a ragged-looking peasant woman in a frayed and old-fashioned sugata, and fewer would care. The common folk of Hingashi were much like those of Doma in their desire not to trouble themselves with what did not concern them. She appreciated that.

Beside her, Ryūsai was trying, and failing, to avoid outlandishness. He’d made the effort to blend in, trading his robes for a cheap outfit from the shops, one so bland and grey she felt inclined to ask after the tailor. The failure was in his reaction beside her. She’d delivered the prints to him for review as planned but his loss of composure was not: From the corner of her eye, she could see his curiosity change to revulsion as he flipped between each thin piece of parchment in the pack. By the third one, his mouth was half-open and his brow had knit in upon itself in disgust, lip curling up his and hiding his thin mustache, and by the fifth he looked as if he might retch.

Wordlessly, she took one hand off of her rod to place it on his left shoulder. It wouldn’t do if he dropped them the goods off of the pier. He didn’t bother looking through the rest of the papers in detail, simply packing them back up with shaking fingers and placing them back in their case. “It’s perverse,” he said, his voice trembling to match his hands, which carefully tied a set of twine string and wrapping paper back into place around the set.

Suzume shrugged, drawing back her fishing rod. “It’s art.”

“It’s sick. How could you stand to see it?” “I didn’t look for long.” She had seen worse in the Resistance, but there was no point in mocking Ryūsai for his reaction. Suzume envied his disgust; when she had reviewed each piece of the set, in detail, she had felt an anger, a tightening of her chest and a desire to strike the artist that she still suppressed. She would gladly have traded that for disgust. “But they work, don’t they?”

“I don’t see how they won’t get a reaction, no,” said Ryūsai. “Put them in the right places with the right people and the Enclave will have no end of complaints. It’s a small set, though, so we’ll have to be careful.”

“What do you mean, small?” Suzume tipped her head just far enough to get a better look at him, her mouth twisting to the side in irritation. “The artist said the same thing, but that’s nine-hundred pages.” “Right, and they’re nine to a set, so you have a hundred sets. That’s not bad, but it’s mass distribution. And the people who use these most, they hide them away. It’ll work for a test run, and that’s what we asked, but soon enough we’ll need ten times this many.”

“Oh.” She looked away from Ryūsai, keeping her eyes fixed on the water. “I thought he was trying to gouge me.”

“...Did you tell him that?” Ryūsai asked, but Suzume didn’t respond. He turned his head and bent forward to look her in the eye, causing her to twist her face farther and farther to the left to avoid his gaze. He gave up when looking any further would risk him tumbling off of the pier. “Do I have to apologize for you?”

“No.” Her sigh was soft and exasperated, and some chatter on the pier behind them, and the call of a ferryman looking for passengers, filled the silence. “Maybe.” “If he’ll still take our money, I’ll check with him after the test run. I meant to see how he block prints anyhow, or get something designed.”

“Fine. When you see him.” Suzume’s lip curled and nose twisted in frustration. Without warning, her head fell to the side, landing on Ryūsai’s shoulder and loosening the ill-kempt bun that tied up her hair. “I want to see her again,” she murmured.

“You’ll see her soon, you know that.” Ryūsai’s shoulders tensed, and he continued looking straight ahead. His voice dropped to match hers; the moment she had made her request, secrecy trumped the need to blend in. “It won’t be much longer.” “You see her all the time. It’s been weeks for me.”

“Not as often as you say,” he replied. Suzume kicked the side of the pier with her feet in response. “I know, it’s tough. You have the worst job. Somebody has to keep an eye on things here. Please, endure it.”

“We don’t endure.” Her reply was sharp and icy, and Ryūsai flinched, seeming to regret his choice of words. “Stay in my place,” she continued. “Just for a few days. I’ll deliver the prints and come back right after.”

“Right after, of course.” Ryusai placed a hand in the folds of his kimono. Shortly after, a small card passed from his hand to Suzume’s, that of a bright, white full moon on a red background over a dark hillside. She was quicker with her hands when she placed its identical counterpart in his palm.

“Thank you.” She lifted her head from Ryūsai’s shoulder, and looked back at her fishing pole. “Why didn’t you bring your own, anyway?”

“Was I supposed to? I thought we were only making the exchange.” “We were, and we did. You can’t just get up and walk away right after, though, that’s suspicious. Here,” She passed the cheap bamboo rod into Ryūsai’s hands. “Just cast for a little while. Anyway, you still look a little pale, it’ll take your mind off of things. Please, just end - “ She stopped herself mid-sentence, and Ryūsai gave her a wry smile. It was a difficult phrase to overcome, beaten into both of them as citizens of Doma.

“We don’t endure,” he said. “But it’s a nice day. Show me how to use this.”

#ffxiv rp #ffxivwrite2024 #a bright and beautiful moon

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deans-baby-momma · 2 years ago

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Law & Love Chapter 3

THEN

Y/N it's not what you think. Please call me (406)321-5879

NOW

I don’t call him when I clock out. I don't call him while I take a cab home. In fact, I don't call him at all.

I am angry! Angry at myself for letting him in and angry at him for asking me out when he is clearly unavailable.

I don't know how they do stuff here in Montana but I was raised to be faithful and true. That's probably why I endured Eric's lack of attention and overlooked his cheating for so long.

Yes, I knew my boyfriend was out fucking anything with a vagina almost weekly. I discovered it when I found a hotel receipt in his pocket.

I did a little amateur sleuthing and found out that he had used that certain hotel for years. He had an open account with the seedy fleabag accommodations; he paid after the use of their room, usually with cash that I still didn't know where it came from. So, I tolerated his cheating and laziness because that's what I was taught to do.

But now? Now was different. I am not that same girl I was then. I was aware of the obscenity of the world and knew very few people abided by the 'old ways'.

So, I'm not about to let some philandering womanizer get the best of me. He cannot have his cake and eat it too!

It’s been a few days since the sheriff and his girlfriend/wife/whatever had visited the diner and I was ever so grateful. I didn’t want to see his cheating, conniving face at all! Everytime I thought about the audacity he had to ask me out when he was clearly taken, my blood pressure skyrocketed. The nerve of him! The gall to manipulate the situation to his advantage was mind boggling.

After the lunch rush was over, I set about getting the remaining tables and chairs back into their proper order when the bell rang and someone stepped in. I smile as I see who I know now is a regular at this time of the day, Joey. Joey would come in when the rush was over and keep Deb and I amused with his stories of different things. He seems to be a nice guy who lived alone and simply desired social interaction.

I smile at him as he walks to his usual spot and settles in. Deb writes up his normal order. As I pass by headed to the kitchen, Joey smiles and speaks. “You look nice today, Y/n.”

“Thanks Joey.”

Deb and I listen to Joey as he regales about the time his uncle took him and his cousins fishing at Park Lake Campground, southwest of town.

"So, here we were standing alongside the lake. We could practically see the fish swimming around, waiting for us to throw our lines in. Marco and Luis were baiting their hooks as ole Uncle Paul was sliding the earthworm onto mine. He didn't trust me not to try to eat the lure." He pauses as Deb and I give him a look of disgust. He laughs and continues.

"Ladies, I was 4 years old okay! I probably would've tried to eat it," he laughs. "Anyway, he gets the hook ready and hands me the pole. I watch my cousins cast their line out into the water so I pull back and throw……hook, line, sinker and pole. It floats on the water for a second before it sinks. Uncle P starts yelling and running toward the water. No one caught anything that day."

The bell over the door rings and a woman walks in with a brown paper bag with handles. There is no writing on the nondescript back. She smiles at us and asks for Y/N. I groan as I realize exactly what that means.

The fucking sheriff has sent me another goddamn gift. I mask my irritation and I step forward with a smile and take the bag.

Inside is a stuffed animal. I pull it out to see it's a gray squirrel holding an acorn in its paws. On the acorn are the words "NUTS FOR YOU".

Yea, he's nuts if he thinks I'm going to keep accepting his little gifts and trinkets. Not when he's a two-timing jerk!

I stuff the stuffed animal back in the bag and take it in the back room, where we keep our personal items.

After my shift, I'm making a pitstop at the Sheriff's office and putting an end to his treacherous ways, once and for all!

The taxi driver can tell I’m on a mission as soon as I slide into the backseat and utter, “Take me to the sheriff’s office.”

As we pull up outside of Helena P.D. I can see the red truck that I know belongs to the sheriff sitting alongside the other cop cars in the lot. I can’t help but sneer at it as I pay the cabbie and exit the vehicle.

I open the door to the building and am met immediately with the smell of donuts and coffee. I want to laugh at the plain and simple stereotype of it all but before I can even twitch my lips, I look through and see Sheriff Arlen and his companion through the glass that divides the front of the station with what is apparently his office. They are both smiling and talking and I see him throw his head back and laugh at what she just said.

“Can I help you?”

I bring my focus back to the front to see the same officer that had come to collect the sheriff and his companion that day at the diner; the day I realized just what a swindler the man in charge is.

“I need to speak to the Sheriff, if you can pull the lovebirds apart,” I jeer. The man looks at me questioningly and goes to open his mouth but evidently Beau has noticed my presence and comes out of the room.

“Y/N?” he calls as he approaches, a smile on his face. What the fuck is he smiling for? Does he not realize I know what a fraud he is? His ‘whatever she is’ is standing right there behind him, leaning against the door frame of his office. Her arms are crossed over her front and her head is sort of cocked to the side. Does she know who I am? Does she know he asked me out when he is obviously involved with her? Why is she not fuming? Why does she look as if she could care less?

Beau finally gets to the front desk and he nods at the officer who was still standing there. “I got this Popcorn.”

‘Popcorn’ nods and heads back to his desk.

“What’re you doing here?” the Sheriff asks. “Having more troubles?”

I clear my throat and straighten my stance as I pull the brown gift bag from my purse. I reach inside and grab the stuffed animal and remove it. I look at it one more time before I lift it and throw it right in his face.

“I don’t want your stupid gifts! I don’t want anything to do with you! How dare you try to take advantage of me in my time of need! You’re a fucking asshole and a cheat! Fuck. You!”

I turn to leave but not before I notice the look of confusion on the sheriff’s face. As I push the door open, I hear his voice. “Y/N! Wait!”

@lostinaseaoffictionalbliss @spnbaby-67 @tftumblin @sea040561 @delightfullykrispypeach @larajadeschmidt13 @atc74 @vicariouslythruspn @squirrelnotsam @sandlee44 @blacktithe7 @hoboal87 @mogaruke @deanwanddamons @supraveng @deandreamernp @akshi8278 @lyarr24 @kazsrm67 @chriszgirl92 @fanfic-n-tabulous

#law & love #jensen ackles #big sky #beau arlen #beau x reader

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depravitymoon · 2 years ago

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Bruno x Reader Valentine's Special One-Shot

((Author's Note: Oh boy, oh boy, if this wasn't extremely late! This was sitting in my drafts for awhile because I was trying to be a perfectionist. So here's a simple wholesome one shot for y'all.))

You have no clue how your Nonna pulled this off. You were fine with this Valentine’s Day blind date set up. After all, you wanted to try dating again, and she promised your date wouldn't be some unhinged ‘sigma’ neckbeard. What you weren't expecting was to come face-to-face with the local Prince Charming. Bruno Buccellati was like Italy’s most eligible bachelor. How did Nonna drag him into this?!

As you sat across from Bruno in the seafood restaurant, you tried to focus on the conversation. But your mind was racing. You couldn't believe you were on a date with Bruno Buccellati of all people.

You realized you had spaced out as Bruno called your name. "Sorry Signor Bucceriati! I have a lot on my mind! It won't happen again!" you blurted out, feeling embarrassed.

He gave you a gentle smile. "No need to be formal. Bruno is just fine," he said reassuringly.

"Oh okay… Bruno!" You giggled nervously, feeling your face turn red.

You excused yourself to go to the bathroom, hoping to compose yourself. When you returned to the table, you found that Bruno had ordered a bottle of wine and two glasses.

He poured you a glass and raised his glass in a toast. "Here's to a great evening," he said with a smile.

You clinked your glass against his and took a sip of the wine. It was delicious, and you felt yourself relaxing.

"Is everything okay?" he asked with a concerned look.

You took a deep breath, "I'm sorry. I just can't believe I'm on a date with you. You're like Italy's most eligible bachelor!" you admitted.

Bruno chuckled. "Well, I'm just a regular guy, really. But I'm flattered you think so highly of me."

You smiled, feeling a little more at ease. You talked about your interests, your family, and your favorite books and movies. As the night went on, you found yourself enjoying Bruno's company more and more. He had such witty and interesting responses.

"My father, Paolo, was a fisherman," he said, "and when I was a kid, he used to take me out on his boat." You notice eyes ultramarine eyes lit up.

Bruno continued, "It's one of my fondest memories. We'd spend hours out on the water, just the two of us. He taught me how to bait a hook and cast a line. We'd talk about everything and anything, and I loved every minute of it."

"That sounds really nice," you said with a smile.

"It was. My father passed away a few years ago, but I still feel his presence every time I'm near the ocean," Bruno said with a touch of sadness in his voice.

"I've never been fishing before," you admitted.

"Really? We should go sometime. I'm sure you'd love it," Bruno suggested.

You smiled at the thought of going fishing with Bruno. "I'd like that."

As the night wore on, you found yourself getting lost in conversation with Bruno. He was so charming and easy to talk to. You definitely needed to give nonna a special gift for there birthday for this pleasant surprise.

#bruno x reader #bruno bucellati x reader #jojo's bizzare adventure vento aureo #jojo's bizarre adventure #Jojo's Bizarre Adventure Part 5 #Safe For Work #Valentine's Day #Bruno #bruno bucciarati

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bearboiferer69 · 9 months ago

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Fishing fanatic

My father is a fishing fanatic. Half of the flat is littered with fucking fishing rods, it's horrible. Roughly once a month someone steps in a hook lying on the ground and have to go to the hospital cuz they're barbed at the end. In my 22 years of life I had this procedure done 10 times. A week ago I went to get some random checkup done and when the receptionist saw me she immediately told me to take my shoe off cuz she tought that it's the hook again.

The second half of the flat is fucking packed with Polish Fisherman, World of the Fisherman, Super Carp etc (polish fishing newspapers). Every week my father drives to every kiosk in the town to get every single weekly fishing paper. I was foolish enough to teach him how to use the internet cuz I tought that we would save some money on these papers, but now not only he buys them, he sits on old fishing forums and spins shitstorms with other fishermen over the best bait etc. He can scream into the monitor or throw the fucking keyboard out the window. One time he made me mad so I made an account on that forum and I started trolling him writing in his threads some random bullshit like "Carps eat shit". Mom wasn't cooking hunter's stew fast enough for him to calm down. Oh, and on that forum he has the CATFISH rank, for making 10k fucking posts.

When it's warm he fucks off to fish every weekend. For 5 years, every fucking sunday, I eat fish for dinner and my father yaps about how beneficial eating these watery fucks is. When I got into college my father kept saying that it's because of these fucking fish, cuz they have phosphorus in them and my brain works better.

Every week he and his friend Mirek wake up the whole family at 4 AM cuz they make a ruckus packing fishing rods, making sandwiches etc.

While eating he always talks about motherfucking fish and everytime the topic eventually comes to the Polish Fishing Association, dad keeps getting more and more mad and gets unreasonably angry "hurr durr they don't put enough fish they only steal hurr durr", he gets all mad with all of this and gets up from the table cursing, and goes to read the Big Encyclopedia of River Fish to calm himself down.

This year on Christmas he bought himself a pontoon. Of course he couldn't last until the 24th so he unpacked it yesterday and inflated it in the living room. He dressed up in that whole fishing outfit and sat in it the whole day, in the middle of the flat. He ate dinner (carp) in it too.

If they let me near every fish in Poland at the length of an arm I would fucking kill them all.

Some time ago, in primary or middle school, on my birthday, my father, as a present, took me fishing. Great fucking gift.

We went somewhere way off, far away from the city, we get closer do the lake and my dads eyes are already glistening and he licks his lips in excitement. He unpacked all the gear and we sit at the water and look at the bobbers. After five minutes I got bored so I turned on my discman and my dad fucking bashed me on the head with a fishing rod, because "the fish can hear the music from my headphones and are scared". When I wanted to scratch my ass he started screaming in whispers for me to stop moving cuz the fish can see me move from the water and are running away. I had to sit in complete silence and no movement for 6 fucking hours and look at the water like in some fucking Guantanamo. My birthday's in November so on top of all of that it was cold like a motherfucker. At some point dad got up, walked a couple meters into the forest and farted. He explained to me that you need to fart in the forest cuz otherwise the fish can hear and smell.

I mentioned that my dad has his friend, Mirek, whom he goes fishing with. Some time ago his fishing buddy was Zbyszek. A man the shape of a ball with a mustache, wearing a BOMBER vest 365 days of the year. They were like brothers, him and dad, he would come with his wife Betty to us on Christmas etc. One time on my dad's birthday Zbyszek came over to hehe "drink". They got piss drunk and, of course, talked about fishing all the time. I was sitting in my room. At some point they started fucking screaming over which is better, catfish or pike.

-DON'T FUCKING PISS ME OFF ZBYCHU, HAVE YOU SEEN THE TEETH OF A PIKE?! CHOMP, ARM GONE!

-FUCK OFF TED, CATFISH IN POLAND WEIGHT 80 KILO, YOUR PIKE CAN SUCK THEIR DICK.

-WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING, TALKING ABOUT CATFISH, WHEN YOU CAN BARELY PULL A BLEAK OUT OF THE WATER. THE PIKE IS THE KING OF THE WATER, LIKE THE LION IS KING OF THE JUNGLE!

And it ended with them wrestling on the living room carpet and me and mom had to separate them. From that point onward they lost contact. Last year Betty called to let us know he passed away and that she's inviting us to the funeral. Mom picked up, said her condolences, put the phone down and tells about it to dad, and he replies:

-That's fucking fantastic

That's how much he hated him over that catfish.

I also mentioned my father's archnemesis, that being the Polish Fishing Association. It became his utter obsession and when, for example, they talk about some earthquake on tv, he always says how they should say something about those motherfuckers from the PFA. He stopped reading non-fishing newspapers too because he got mad that they're not writing about polish fishing or any PFA affairs.

The head of the local PFA branch is mr. Adam. For my dad, he's the epitome of evil done to all polish bodies of water by the Association and father had a war with him for several years. One time he went on some fishermen meeting where mr. Adam was and father came back home with a ripped shirt cuz they had to remove him with force, that's how much of a problem he was causing.

After loosing in hand-to-hand combat with the private militia of the PFA dad started a partisan movement online by insulting the PFA and Adam on the forums of local newspapers. He was spewing some bullshit like how Adam was a secret UB agent (communist group, kinda like the FBI), or how he saw him scratching someone's car with a nail on the street etc. I didn't teach my father how to use TOR so cops were called and father had to pay Adam 2000PLN.

When he was paying that he was unbearable for a week, father kept insulting the corrupted courts, the PFA, Adam and the whole world in general. I could deduce from his ramblings that the PFA are some kind of fucking masonry that rules the whole country, pulls the strings and has their people everywhere. He counted that 2000 in fishing rods, hooks or boats and got an absolute headache over , for example, how much vanilla bait he count buy for those 2k (a couple hundred kilo).

Last year father said that we absolutely need to have a fishing boat because apparently renting is too expensive and everyone wants to scam him.

"sonny, on the water is where the real ones fish! That's where the element's at! (it makes no sense in original text either)"

But he couldn't afford it nor did he have a place to store it and he wasn't some hehe loser, so he wasn't gonna pay someone for keeping it, and so he met some local fishermen, they bought a boat together, it's gonna stay at some dude's place, because he has a house and not a flat like us, on the driveway on this guy's trailer and they were to share the boat or fish together.

At first this cooperation went well but one weekend father got sick and couldn't go with them and had a temper tantrum over this. To top it all off, his friends called him to say that fish are catching like crazy so my dad was just lying there, crimson red from anger on the couch and kept panting like an animal. The worst part was that he had no one to blame, like he usually does. Finally he came to the conclusion that it's unfair that they're fishing without him because they bough the boat together and saturday evening, when these dudes came back from their trip, he suddenly left the home.

He comes back an hour later and tells me to help him with something in front of the block. I go outside and I see our car with the trailer and boat. I asked him where did he get it from and he replied that he fucking stole it from that dude's house because they scammed him and told me to grab the boat and bring it into the flat. My explanations that it's gonna take all the space in the living room were fruitless. Luckily the boat couldn't even fit through the door to the staircase so dad decided to just leave it in front of the house.

Using some chains that he found on the boat and my bike lock he chained it to a lamp post and satisfied with his work he wants to go back to the flat when suddenly 2 cars roll up, with co-owners of the boat inside, because they put 2 and 2 together and realized where their property might've gone. An unreal fight started, co-owners are screaming why did he steal the boat and to give it back, father's screaming that they scammed him and he payed 500 PLN and didn't even swim this weekend. I tried to calm them down so that dad wouldn't get beat up because it was really close.

After several minutes the situation was as follows:

-My father lying on the ground, clutching the trailer and screaming that he won't give it back

-Co-owners screaming that he has to give it back

-One co-owner has a broken nose because he tried to pull father away from the boat by the leg, and he got kicked with the other

-Two officers are pulling father by the legs and saying that he's going to the station cuz he beat someone

-Neighbors are watching from every single window around

-My mom is crying and begging father to leave the boat and the policemen not to arrest him

-Me sadfrog.psd

Finally cops ripped dad away from the boat. I gave the co-owners the bike lock code and they took the boat, throwing 500PLN at dad and saying that he no longer has any right to the boat and it's better for him not to meet them on any fishing trip. Mom managed to convince the cops not to arrest dad. The dude with the broken nose said that he's not wasting his fucking time walking to police stations and that he doesn't care, he just doesn't want to see father ever again.

Dad to this day is spinning shitstorms on fishing forums because they made a thread there where they warned everyone about making any deals with my father. I was following that thread and watched as my father ineptly made troll accounts.

Steven54

Posts made: 1

This thread was made by morons! I know user anons_dad for a long time and he's a great dude and an incredible fisherman! They want to slander him because they're jealous of his catches!

Later he would use these troll accounts to stalk his old boat buddies. When one of them made a thread he would fucking burst in on that account and say that he catches shit fish and everyone can see that he can't fish.

From the same accounts he would post replies to his own posts

"well catch! I see you're an experienced hunter!"

and then he would get all happy and force me and mom watch how they cherish his presence on these forums.

#fish #fishing #family #parent #dad #father #catfish #pike #polish culture #story #real story

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sweetthepotato · 1 year ago

Text

The Final Pillar: Chapter 5: A Flint to Roast Sweet Potatoes

Disclaimer

Masterpost

Chapter 4

AO3 Link

Chapter Summary

Rengoku proves to be bad at fishing, but is, unsurprisingly, a good listener.

Contents

Lots of fluff. Author likes to run on headcannons and conjecture.

Kagome's lungs heaved against her ribcage, while her senpai smiled at her unfazed. She remembered back to the afternoon where she agreed to join Rengoku and thought of nothing but regret.

'You did an excellent job keeping up with me, Kagome-kun,' he spoke, 'I can see that your ascension into our ranks was well deserved indeed!'

Keep up? That was supposed to be an exercise to keep up?

'Senpai,' her breathing came as wheezes, 'Did anyone tell you that you're verifiably insane for creating such a regiment?'

Kyojuro's smile widened. This was the first time Kagome said something since their departure. They now stood at a clearing, which he'd decided was as good as any for a spar.

'Well, now that you mention it, that could explain why I never have so much luck with finding a tsuguko!' He laughed. 'However, if one is to embark on our joint mission to defeat Muzan and his demons, they would have to prepare for it with their whole being!'

The wheezing managed to calm down into deep pants, 'I suppose that makes sense, senpai,' she said, pulling herself up slowly from her hunched position, 'I'm still new to being a hashira, so I'm not sure if all of us are somehow expected to have a tsuguko at some point.'

The Flame Hashira took a few seconds to process the girl's words. 'At the moment, Kocho-san is the only one of us to have a confirmed tsuguko, which makes me jealous!' He boomed, 'Although I inherited the role of hashira on my own, I had to take the initiative to replace my father when it was needed!'

Kagome considered Rengoku's response, unsure of whether or not Nightmare Breathing was something she'd be able to, or even want to, pass down to future generations of the Corps. Flame Breathing, from the sounds of it, seemed like to be akin to more of a tradition of sorts, and its potential loss would be a shame among the pillars.

'I'm sure that, one day, you will be able to find such a successor in the future,' she said.

Kyojuro felt the corners of his jaw slacken slightly, the warmth of the growing appreciation for his kouhai blooming in his chest. 'How about we take a break? Just so you know, you gave me a hard time too, during our spar!'

He was able to identify the nearest stream of water for fishing, and Kagome managed to supply a rod, line and hook from her satchel. It now sat on the browning grass, its tanned leather sagging at the sides.

When he spoke to her, Kyojuro was honest about escaping the crowd once in a while. While he enjoyed socialising as much as the next human being, it felt nice reconnecting with nature, feeling the tranquil, moist air from where he was sitting. He could see his kouhai gathering branches and leaves from the ground so it could later be fuel for a campfire; the only thing left to do was to use the flint.

Feeling his glance upon her, she turned around, 'Any luck, senpai?'

'Not so much luck, I'm afraid! Whatever fish that are in this river seem to be avoiding us at the moment,' he chuckled. His line remained unbudging, the bait of dried chicken at the end still untouched.

She shifted, sitting next to him with her palm open, 'Shall I try?'

Nodding, he passed the fishing rod over. The brunette shifted closer to the edge of the riverbank, the hands holding the rod outstretched closer towards the middle of the body of water. Her surrounding energy became calmer, muted in a way so that it blended into their environment. Dangling the fishing line up and down, there was a visible tug at the end of the rod.

In awe, Kyojuro watched as one fish was caught and placed on the ground next to him. The poor thing was flopping up and down helplessly, but before she returned for another round of catching more of its brethren, she decisively hit it on its spine using her knife.

The one fish, who'd succumbed to its fate, was soon joined by five others. They were all quite sizeable for fish in the area, which impressed him. Without pausing, the same knife was used to gut them, deft hands demonstrating the well practised motions of someone who'd grown used to spending time on her own.

Kagome proceeded to toss their entrails over to the birds, to which their crows also partook in the offer of a meal. She cleaned their bodies thoroughly in the same body of water, until the red stains upon their white flesh disappeared into the river. The brunette grabbed the pointed bamboo sticks from her bag, and then skewered each and every last one of the fish, the protein for their evening meal now sorted.

His kouhai returned, for another time, to the satchel she left with him, and withdrew her flint and two sweet potatoes.

'Will these suffice, senpai?' She asked.

Tilting his head with a smile, he couldn't help but glance at the gaping mouth of her bag. There was a noticeable abundance of the spuds, their bumpy, purple exteriors bundled together in a netted bag of sorts.

'Do you like these, Kagome-kun?' He tried to stifle his surprised chortle at the girl's apparent collection.

She took a moment to pause, the gears shifting in her brain over the man's words, before the light of realisation dawned in her brown irises. Blushing from left cheek to right cheek, she considered them, as if they were a strange kind of arithmetic. To her, 'like' was a strange word, and in her world as of lately, it wasn't something she'd had much of the opportunity to consider; there were more things in the world that she didn't like.

Rengoku waited patiently for her answer, his ochre eyes glimmering from his evident amusement. It was embarrassing, she griped, as he was witnessing her become so undone by such a simple question. There was something in his nature that reminded her of Shizu, who seemed to know what to do and what to say to have let her guard down.

Still feeling the heat in her face, as if the flame-haired man were the sun itself, she stammered, 'I... I suppose... I like them more than other types of food.'

His chuckling was breathed out, as if it were a sigh, 'I see we share similar tastes in vegetables as well! Did you know that my favourite food is miso soup with sweet potatoes?'

Getting around to light the campfire, she shook her head. Shizu was a different person, much more dramatic, but there was enough of a similarity between them that she felt like she was talking to his echo. 'I've never heard of miso and sweet potato used in the same soup before,' she said, 'Is it like when you have slices of carrot sometimes in a donburi set?'

He nodded enthusiastically, 'The sweet potato is cut up and cooked with the rest of the ingredients,' he responded. 'If you ever get the chance, I suggest you try it! It's delicious!'

'I will. Thanks for the suggestion, senpai,' she responded. She placed the potatoes into the fire, while the fish skewers were dug into the earth where they were planted, surrounding the flame. 'I realise that there's much to know about you and the rest of the hashira. I'm not sure if our first meeting left a good first impression on everyone back at Oyakata-sama's estate.'

Rengoku placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder as she sat down, 'You can ask me anything while we're here, Kagome-kun, and I'll try my best to answer as honestly as possible.'

She considered it, while staring at how the flames licked at their fish. 'I'm sure being a half-demon was a shock to you and the others.'

With a hum, Kyojuro thought about that afternoon at the estate. If he recalled, his main priority was to hear his young colleague state her piece before coming to a conclusion. She seemed nervous, the wobbling at the knees a sign of any daunted, new hashira. However, she stood her ground, even when distressed at the goading of Shinazugawa.

'I've decided to trust in Oyakata-sama's decision, and I've yet to see anything suspicious from you. Though I can't promise that the other hashira won't have their own doubts,' he began, his face a calm, contemplative expression. 'When you're in the role of a pillar for so long, it's difficult to see a different perspective. Our organisation has lost so many, and trust, while needed, is difficult to encourage without evidence.'

Kagome listened intently, the young girl's ears twitching, hanging onto every word in his answer. She finally nodded, the glow of the fire highlighting the resoluteness in her countenance.

'You might struggle at first, but I have no doubt that you will do yourself proud, Kagome-kun!'

She blinked, another slayer's confidence in her foreign sensation, 'I meant what I said, you know, back then.'

'What you said...?' Oh, he recalled that incident with a laugh, 'I'm sure any of us would oblige if this is the duty that befalls us, but you have survived this long as a human being, and I will pray that you will live what remains of your life enjoying your existence as one

She stayed silent for a while, only moving to roll the potatoes over with a stick. Picking up a skewer, she offered to Kyojuro, who picked it from her hands.

'Delicious!' He cried, the first bite taken hungrily.

'I wasn't there for that trial in that afternoon, either, but I managed to overhear some of it. Will there really be a demon helping us in the Corps?'

'Ah! Tanjiro Kamado and his sister Nezuko, I believe! It's a similar case to yours, I'd say!' He boomed. 'They'll be working hard to find the Twelve Kizuki, to earn our acknowledgement!'

Her knuckles turned whiter as her left hand fisted the ground tightly. Despite her attempt at stoicism, she could not help but have some of her disdain seep into the irises of her eyes. 'I find that difficult to conceive,' she said flatly, relenting on her hold over the earth, 'But I can understand why Oyakata-sama decided to introduce me afterwards. It would've been much easier to deal with a half-demon, knowing that a trial with a full one went well... I don't doubt that things would've been different if I were introduced first...'

Kyojuro noticed, with a small pang, the tinge of sadness that crept into her small voice. Despite the strength she'd demonstrated earlier in the day, he realised the Kagome was still the adolescent she appeared to be. She was awkward and insecure, but her vulnerability was sincere. She looked tinier than she did during their spar, and his mind resolved to support her in whatever way he could.

'For now, let's talk about more positive topics,' he said, interrupting her reverie with a jolt. 'Did I see any Nightmare techniques from our spar today?'

Kagome nodded in confirmation. 'A few of them, but not all of them can be replicated in a spar,' she answered, 'There are times, though, when I am trying to modify and change my forms to suit different situations, so hopefully fighting with you has been productive.'

'So, some of your moves were experiments? Count me impressed,' he stated. 'I've sparred against many breathing styles throughout my time in the Corps, the newer ones never cease to amaze me!'

She passed Rengoku another fish, flushing at the compliment, 'Do you have any siblings?'

He smiled at that question, taking a bite out of his skewer, 'I have a younger brother, Senjuro. He's fourteen... about your age, I think?'

'I'll be turning turning fifteen in November,' she confirmed. 'Is he similar to you in some ways?'

'That's pretty soon,' he was almost finished with his fish, and so Kagome handed him another one almost seamlessly. Delicious! 'Senjuro... he's only like me in appearance,' he started, his voice soft, 'Personality wise, you'd be a closer fit to him. He's quiet, and shy, but works hard to make people proud of him. I worry about him at times... I worry... that sometimes he sacrifices himself to make others happy... I suppose other older brothers might feel that way at times!'

This time, he passed a fish to Kagome, who accepted it quietly, 'When's your birthday? Do you have any siblings of your own?'

'My birthday...? On the 21st,' she gingerly took a bite and chewed. 'I don't really have much of a family,' she answered initially, 'But there was someone who I thought of like an older brother, once.'

Taking a chance for it, Kyojuro grabbed at the sweet potatoes and passed one to his kouhai. She returned to staring at the fire, the brightness of the flames giving light to the yearning in her eyes. He reflected on the fact that, all things considered, he was one of the lucky ones who still had living family members.

Peeling the skin off, he bit into it and savoured its sweetness, his customary shout present in the air.

'You can tell me about him!' he suggested.

The brunette swallowed thickly, the meat from her skewer having disappeared from sight. There was a small smile that ghosted her lips, before it disappeared without ceremony. With a slight inhale, she opened her mouth, about to speak.

#kny #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba headcanons #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer oc #kimetsu no yaiba oc #kny fanfic #rengoku kyojuro #demon slayer fanfic #kimetsu no yaiba fanfic #kny oc #demon slayer headcanons

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junkydrawr · 2 years ago

Text

More of Sniv in Knothole! YAY. Ok, this is a chunk of story rather than just one scene. Lots of Snively misery. Warnings for talk of self harm and bullying.

Anyway, the scene starts off after Snively has burned his uniform. His chore has been fishing with Sonic and Sally for the week. And yeah, it just starts in the middle of the scene because like usual...I haven't written the whole thing yet. XD

Note: in my fic Sniv smokes cigarettes but they aren't like our nicotine cigarettes...they're actually a harmless herb with relaxing properties (but they are addictive and the smell puts some people off). Also, Snively wears an unremovable tracking bracelet. And residents of Knothole sometimes eat in a cafeteria/mess hall, but Snively doesn't like to eat in there so Bunnie usually cooks for him.

"Oh!" Snively let out a squeak. His line was pulled tight.

"Reel it in!" Sally raced over to him as Snively gave a pathetic tug to the line. When she got there, the line slackened. The hook came up, empty of fish and bait.

"Ugh," she grunted. This was the third fish he'd lost today. "It's like you're trying to mess up!"

"I told you, I don't know how to do this!" Snively shot back, pacing over to the bucket of worms.

"Don't even! You haven't been trying at all! It's been four days - and you haven't got one fish!"

His mouth twisted as he glared down at the writhing worms.

"...Four days and I'm still baiting the hook for you." She grabbed the pole away from him.

"I can't do that. It's sick." Snively mumbled and made a face as she wrapped the hapless bait. She thrust the pole back into his hand. He let out a groan of complaint. "I hate this job. I don't want to do this anymore."

"Tough. Isn't it strange, that you can't kill a worm...but you can kill Mobians...?"

“Like you haven't done the same. Your father shot down Overlanders.”

“That was a war!” She spoke loudly enough that Sonic startled awake over on the bridge.

“That's no excuse.”

“Oh, stop it. You know your people started it, anyway. We defended ourselves and our lands.”

“What do you know?” He sneered. “You were a toddler at the time!”

“I paid attention in history class. Unlike some people.” She shot a glance at Sonic, who had already resumed snoring.

Snively slung the pole over his shoulder. “History that was penned by your people, with a bias towards your people.”

“You know what history isn't biased? The fact that my father took you in, that we treated you well – and you turned around and attacked us.” She jabbed him in the chest and he squeaked. “Tell me we mistreated you and your wretched uncle, Snively. Tell me to my face.”

“What do you know...” He muttered again. “You're a pretty girl whom everyone loved right from the beginning. A Princess. Have you ever suffered a day of abuse in your pampered life?”

“Snively, have you ever wondered what it would've been like if you hadn't taken over? If you'd just lived with us? If our Kingdom was still standing?”

He bit his lip.

“Maybe you would've had a nice life. Maybe you'd be a scientist... a teacher. Maybe you would've been happy.”

“There's no use thinking things like that.” He hissed, but she could see his eyes were starting to gleam. His cheeks turning red.

“But... you chose your path. You chose to put yourself with that man...that monster. Now you have to pay the consequences. Just like we all do.”

Snively looked away from her, heaving in a shuddering breath. He blinked wetness away from his eyes, then turned back with a snarl. “Oh, you know it all! Miss Fucking Perfect! Miss Omniscient! You'd never make a mistake in your prissy little life. You know every path laid out before you and you'd never take the wrong one. How bloody amazing it must be to be you.” He threw the pole down, his fists clenching at his sides.

“Eleven years of staying with Robotnik isn't a mistake!” She yelled, and Sonic woke up again with a startled yelp. “Eleven years, Snively! Stop blaming everyone else when you chose to stay there! I am sick and tired of hearing it!”

“Hey!” Sonic stood up. “Sally, is everything ok?”

“It's fine, Sonic.” She glared at Snively. “Pick up your pole. Get back to work.” She stomped away from him and back to her spot at the river.

---

Sally retrieved her salad and sat down at the round table with her friends. Even their company didn't ease her rankled nerves. She gripped her fork tight, stabbing at the lettuce vicously. “I am so glad there's only one more day of fishing left.”

“Why? The fish ain't bitin'?”

“The company bites.” Sally smirked as she bit into a tomato. Juice flew onto the table. She wiped it with her napkin.

“Hey, I know you aren't talking about this super cool hedgehog.” Sonic laughed and tried to make his tomato squirt even further.

Bunnie looked concerned. “Sally, are you talkin' about Snively? He ain't cooperatin'?”

“He's just such a drain,” Sally said. “Complain about this, complain about that. Whines and moans about how bad his life is.... like he hasn't been a nightmare for the past decade.” She rolled her eyes. “Of course Sonic gets to stay over on the bridge and not deal with his garbage. What did he call me today? Oh yeah: 'Miss Fucking Perfect. I've never made a mistake in my prissy little life'.”

Bunnie frowned. “He said that to you?”

“Well, you are pretty perfect, Sal.” Sonic flashed a cheeky grin, and Sally finally cracked a smile. “I think he was flirting with you.”

She let out a laugh. “Oh my Gods, Sonic. No!”

“Ah told him not to say mean thangs like that,” Bunnie said, a frown still marring her brow. “Ah told him to get along with you!”

“Oh, Bunnie, it's not your fault,” Sally said, patting her arm. “Please don't think I'm implying anything like that.”

“Ah'm not. It's just...” She shook her head.

Geoffrey plopped down with a plate of dessert. “Heh. There goes Bunnie again. Surprised when her little delinquent disappoints her.”

“Shut up, St John,” Sonic said.

“You shut up, pincushion.”

Sally sighed and focused on her salad as the insults flew back and forth.

Snively rummaged through Bunnie's kitchen drawers, muttering. “Matches...matches... she surely must have matches!” A pilfered packet of Geoffrey's cigarettes weighted his pocket. “Ah yes!” He held up a matchbox in triumph.

“What are those for?” Bunnie's voice came from the doorway and he let out a startled shriek.

“Ah...heh. You know, I thought I would light some candles.”

“Romancing me?”

Snively's cheeks went red. “...What?”

“Cause yer gonna need some sugar n' sweet when you explain to me why you were so rude to Sally-girl today.”

He scowled. “I didn't say anything. Why is she reporting my every sentence back to you, anyway?”

“Stop dodging the point, Sugah. You did say somethin'.”

“Whatever....” He rolled his eyes and shoved the matches in his pocket. He just wanted to get out and smoke already. It was like an itch under his skin.

“Don't whatever me, Snively.” Bunnie set her hands on her hips. “You called her names. Said she was perfect.”

“Oh Heavens no. I called her perfect? How perfectly scathing.”

“What's that in your pocket?” She stared suspiciously at the lump. He thought of all sorts of untoward responses but settled with a look of bland innocence instead.

“Nothing?”

“Give it here!”

“Look, just leave me alone!” Snively growled and started for the door, his hand clutching possessively over the cigarettes. “I have a headache and I smell like fish. I need some air.”

“No way.” She blocked the door. “You turn out yer pockets, right now.”

“Bloody fine!” He threw the packet of cigarettes down, yanked the other pocket out and let the matches fall. “It's just cigarettes! The doctor said I could have them!”

“Don't you speak to me like that. Ah don't know what's gotten into ya. Ah told you to be nice to Sally-girl, Ah told you to stop bein' a right git and you were doin' good for a while.”

“And then you made me leave the house. Do these stupid, asinine chores. Mingle with the populous.”

“How else do you expect to live here? You can't hide in mah house forever! Sugah, you have to stop this!”

He leaned down to nab the cigarettes and matches. “Maybe I was better off in the jail cell.”

Bunnie stepped away from the door. “Is that right? You think so?”

“At least nobody bothered me there.” He grunted. “None of this harping on my every move.”

“Ah had no idea you thought of me like that.” Bunnie's eyes hardened. “Well, then, Snively...why don't you just...git? Yeah. Git out.”

“What?”

“Sleep outside. Go sleep at Geoffrey's for all Ah care.” She aimed a finger towards the door. “You want to git? Then git.”

He nearly protested, then shut his mouth with a snap. "Gladly," he hissed and stamped out. She slammed the door behind him.

He trudged down to the ring pool, finding his favorite spot on the bank. There was a tree stump perfect for leaning on and a log that was excellent sitting. He chose to wedge his back against the stump, wrangling the cigarettes and matches out.

Lighting up, he took a long drag and expelled the smoke with a sigh. The cigarette tasted slightly like skunk. He made a face but didn't snuff it out. At this time of day, the village folk would be making dinner or eating in the cafeteria. Thus, it was quiet and still, with only the birds and bugs keeping him company.

Just how I like it. He allowed himself to relax, closing his eyes. The cigarette further diffused his jangled nerves. He sat and smoked, letting his mind drift into emptiness. When the fire reached the end, he flicked the filter into the water and reached for another.

"Hey, don't throw garbage around, Snive-ly!”

A high voice made his eyes fly open. He almost screamed. A set of eyes was hovering right before him. He choked for air as Tails grinned at him.

"Gah! Must you sneak up like that?"

"I didn't sneak up. I flew over here." The kid landed and stood nearby, evoking a groan from Snively.

"I gotta question. How come you don't got any hair?"

Snively scowled. "How come your grammar is so atrocious?"

"Grammar is boring. I guess you do have a few hairs..." Tails reached for one of Snively's wispy strands.

He jerked his head back. "Touch and perish, kid."

Tails laughed. "Why do you keep those anyway?"

"A futile cling to the trappings of my youth." Snively turned the unlit cigarette in his fingers. His mood soured, as it always did when he remembered his head of hair. Robotnik had never let him grow it back...and the shitty climate of Robotropolis ensured he remained unhealthy enough that it wouldn't.

Another laugh. "You are so weird. I think you're the weirdest person I know."

"Says the child with an extra tail sprouting from his backside."

Tails' face scrunched uncertainly. "Sonic says my tails make me special."

"Special is just another phrase for 'genetic freak.'" Snively smirked and stuck the cigarette in his mouth.

"Sonic doesn't think that!"

Snively struck a match and lit up. "Doesn't he now..." He took a long puff and tilted his head back, blowing out a smoke ring. "Of course, he's a freak as well..."

The little fox frowned heavily. Snively hoped he'd cry. Child tears might be a pathetic balm for a shittastic day, but at least it was something.

"That thing stinks. You should put it out."

"Make me, you little brat."

Tails grinned nastily and leapt into the air. With a spin and a precise flick of one tail tip, he swept the cigarette from Snively's mouth. It sailed into the pool.

"Hey!" He didn't bother going after it. With a grunt, he pulled another forth from the pack in his pocket. "Nice try. Good thing I'm fully stocked up."

"You stole those from Geoffrey, didn't you?"

"He misplaced them. I'm going to return them."

"You're such a liar!"

"Oh, go away," Snively moaned, his patience shot. Why did these blasted Mobians have to ruin everything?

"You go away. We want to swim."

We? Snively dug his boots into the soil. If this little twerp thought he was dragging him into the water, he'd-

Suddenly, the sun was blotted from the sky. Seconds later, Dulcy came crashing into the water on her bottom, sending water splashing everywhere - including onto him.

She shrieked in delight; Snively shrieked in horror.

"You blasted reptile!" He jumped up, his cheeks red with anger. Tails rolled in midair, giggling madly.

"Ha ha, you might as well swim with us, Snide-ly!"

"I'd rather drown." He growled and wrung out his shirt. Droplets rolled down his back, making him shiver. He'd dropped the third smoke and it lay soggy on the ground. He left it, skulking away from the poolside with the children's laughter trailing him.

He wandered through the village until he got to the community garden. A few devoted greenthumbs had returned to their plots following dinner. He sat on a flat boulder near the edge of an unoccupied tomato patch. Late afternoon sunlight bathed him and he sighed, squelching some water from his eyebrows with one finger.

There wasn't much to the clothes Sally had foisted upon him, and he hoped they'd dry quickly. Already the warmth was seeping from the day.

He drew his tanktop up, wringing it out once again. Cold water dripped down his stomach, seeming to follow the pink tracing of scars on his white skin. He quickly smoothed down the shirt and as he did, his belly rumbled.

"Oh shush," he muttered, gazing in the direction of the cafeteria. It was open to all, but the idea of walking in.... all the eyes on him, the mutters, the glares...as he hunched over his food...

He grit his teeth. And him wearing this ridiculous attire as well. So much skin exposed - his neck, collarbones like shelves, his twiggy arms.

A few times, bored and idle on late night surveillance, he'd taken out the boot knife Julian had given him as a teen. He'd used it on himself, carving lines upon his skinny biceps, for no real reason other than... He was bored. He was so fucking numb. Maybe he hoped Uncle would notice, and worry about him.

He let out a painful laugh, squeezing his eyes shut. I don't want to think about this.

He rubbed the faint row of neat parallel scars. I've gone without dinner plenty of times. I'm fine.

When he opened his eyes, a Mobian couple had neared the gardens. Hand in hand, two badgers. He scrunched in on himself...it was Melinda and her husband. She met his eyes across the plots and he quickly averted his gaze, staring down at his boots.

Did I do anything to her...?

He tried to page through memories, but they fell apart like paper under water. Dissolving, blurring into each other, with ink staining like a disease.

I really can't recall. He shut his eyes again. I don't want to think about this either...

They meandered to one of the plots furthest from him. He kept his eyes down, staring at his boots, the widening patches of dry on his shirt, and finally, the infernal bracelet on his wrist. He began to tug at it, trying for the hundredth time to wiggle it over his hand.

If only I could remove this bloody thing.

He whacked it a few times on the stone.

Then I could...

What. Run? Into the unforgiving wilderness?

Better than here, right? Whack, whack, wiggle.

He looked up to see the nearest Mobian watching him, suspicion all over their features. He ceased his futile attempts. If he messed with the stupid thing enough, he'd probably be thrown back in jail.

There's an idea.

He slid from the boulder and made his way to the jail. As he suspected, nobody was inside. The stone interior was chilly. He shuddered in his still-damp shirt, but continued to the last cell. It was locked, so he slid down onto his rear, leaning his back on the bars.

"I'll stay here," he muttered aloud. "Stay here until I bloody rot."

The dimness faded to dark. He took off his vest and draped it over his arms. It did little to warm him. Shivering, he got out another cigarette and puffed smoke in between cursing the cold.

I suppose I could grovel at Ms Rabbot's metal feet.

He made a face. Haven't you groveled enough for ten lifetimes? Fuck her and little Miss Priss. His rear was going numb and damp condensation was spreading over the stone floors. He gazed longingly at the cots inside the cells.

All the doors were locked. He paced. Damn it all. He sighed and dug the precious cigarettes from his pocket, stowing them just inside the cell. It wouldn't do for their owner to find them in his possession.

He ascended the steps and stood, feeling lost. Finally, he trudged to Geoffrey's hut. With a defeated sigh, he rapped on the door.

“One minute, mate!”

“Shit...” Snively debated running for it. “This was a bad idea-”

The door swung open, blasting him with warm air. Geoffrey's mouth split into a nasty smirk. “What a surprise. A man opens the door and finds a pile of trash standing on his step.”

“Can...” Snively hunched his shoulders. Every word felt like acid. “...can I sleep here tonight...?”

Geoffrey laughed in delight. "Oh ho ho! Are you telling me Bunnie kicked you out?!"

"No...just exploring my options."

Geoffrey examined Snively's poker face closely, then snorted. "The lies never stop, do they?"

"Forget it." Snively mentally kicked himself. "I'll see if Sonic or Antoine have room."

"I'm real insulted you think that pincushion is better company than me." Another sneering grin. "And Ant will never let you - or anyone - stay at his place. Not after Sonic had to crash there and drove Ant bonkers with his slobbiness."

"I'll ask around then..." Snively took a step back but Geoffrey lunged forward and yanked him inside by the arm.

"No, no. I've got room. We're gonna have a great time together."

The small man was ushered to the kitchen table. He sat, back rigid. His eyes roamed the room. The layout was identical to Bunnie's, but Geoffrey had less flowery decor. There were two magenta pillows on his couch. On the wall was a painting of whom he assumed was Geoffrey's father. An unsmiling 'bloke' of black and white, dressed in the cerulean blue of Acorn Kingdom military.

An asshole just like his son, I imagine.

"He look familiar to you?" Geoffrey asked.

All you skunks look the same. All you animals do. But anyway, Julian had the pleasure of doing away with the high ranking officials.

He kept this to himself and merely shook his head.

"You hungry?" The skunk asked after a few minutes.

He nodded.

"Me too. I only ate cake at dinner." Geoffrey got up and pulled things from his cold storage, piling it onto a hefty sandwich. He only made one, but it would be enough between them. With a wink, he lifted it to his mouth and took a bite.

"Umm..." The Overlander stared as a piece of meat fell back onto the plate.

"Oh," sneered Geoffrey after swallowing. "I just asked if you were hungry. I wasn't saying I was gonna feed you."

Snively grunted in disgust. Well. Maybe he would go back and grovel to Bunnie. He slipped out of the chair and darted for the front door.

Before he could reach it, there was a few knocks and the door swung open. He was forced back by Geoffrey's friends Midge and Tory.

"What's this little turd doing here?" Tory asked. "He playing cards with us?"

"Bollocks to that. He probably cheats worse than you do."

"I was just leaving..." Snively tried to inch around the oafish Mobians. Geoffrey grabbed him by the scruff and dragged him back to the kitchen.

"Have a seat, lil Sheila. You're our special entertainment for the night."

"You gonna offer us snacks or what?" Midge said, taking a seat.

"There's food. Get it yourself."

The boorish animals gorged in front of him, offering not even a scrap. They laughed when his stomach rumbled. A dollop of meat fell from Midge's mouth to the table. Snively tried not to look. These slobs were gross, yet the smell was making him hungrier. Bunnie didn't eat meat. At least she wasn't adverse to eggs.

"So, Sniv, what was Earth like?" Tory asked. "I heard it was a real shit hole."

"I don't remember it."

"Oh."

"It wasn't infested with walking flea bags though, I know that."

Somebody kicked him under the table. He grimaced.

"Filled with ugly Furless freaks, stinking up the place. Can you imagine having to live in a city of them? I'd have to burn off my nose." Geoffrey grinned vilely. "So glad they all blew themselves up."

Snively kept quiet. Part of him agreed. He wondered if there were any civilized beings who were actually that.

"Should've just stayed there," Tory said. "Why'd you even come here?"

"It wasn't exactly my choice. Maybe I would've rather been blown up than checking myself for mites daily." Snively glanced around the room again, itching to run for it.

Midge grunted. "He's got a punchable face, don't he? Can I punch 'im, boss?" Tory nodded eagerly.

"No, you idiots." Geoffrey brushed crumbs off his hands and belched. "I'll get it from the King if he sees him all bruised up." He took out a cigarette and lit it, inhaling languidly. "The trick is to get him where people can't see..."

Snively kept still, his heart rate increasing. He clenched his hands on the chair seat. I'll be damned if I look scared.

Geoffrey gave a nod to Tory, and the badger stood and dragged Snively out of the chair, pinning his arms behind his back. The small man squeaked and struggled. Geoffrey leaned forward in his chair, smiling. Puffing away. One of his claws reached forward, snagging Snively's shirt and pulling it upwards, free of his belt. The Mobians stared at the skin of his exposed belly, the white skin traced with delicate pink scars.

Tory whistled. "Heh. Nice collection, Sniv."

"Oh, shut up!" Red touched his cheeks and he struggled again. Tory pulled his arms tighter. "Ow. Stop it!"

Geoffrey inhaled again and then turned the cigarette in his fingers. "I guess I don't rightly feel like smoking right now, mate. Midge, you wanna put this out for me?"

"Why can't you?" Midge grunted.

Geoffrey let out an aggravated sigh and jerked his head at Snively. "You sure you don't want to put it out, Midge?"

"Oh!" Comprehension came to the dimwit's face. "Oh yeah, boss, I wanna!"

Snively went rigid in Tory's grip as Midge waved the cigarette, taunting. Not a sound. Not one bloody sound! He clenched his teeth as Midge brought his hand forward, grinding the burning end to the left of his navel. The pain was bright, immediate. He jerked in the confining arms, a hard harsh breath drawn through his nose.

The Mobians chuckled.

Midge handed the cigarette back to Geoffrey.

"Ugh. I don't want it after it touched him." The skunk flicked it into Snively's face, then scowled. "You think you're tough, huh." He cruelly pressed the tip of one claw into the fresh burn. Snively couldn't catch it - the crying whimper that burst forth. The chuckles were louder now.

"Well, that was fun." Geoffrey looked bored as he nodded to Tory. The badger released him, and roughly shoved Snively back into his seat.

He sat, huddled, trying to ignore the searing pain. He rubbed at his sore arms.

"I remember your fingers were all busted up when you got here. Robotnik do that?"

Snively was silent. Midge swatted him on the head.

"No," he lied.

"What a lucky sod Robotnik was." Geoffrey sighed, clicked his claws on the table. "I'd love to break every one of 'em. I bet you'd really scream then."

"Maybe we can break his toes instead?" Midge suggested. Snively went rigid again.

"Nah. He'd be walking all funny. Like he did when Robotnik got through with him every night, I bet."

The small human glared down at the table, tasting acid on his tongue.

Tory laughed so hard he snorted. "You're a sicko, Geoff."

"Heh. I know." Geoffrey leaned his chair back, grinning wide. "Speaking of... You shoulda been at the pool today. Sally was down there, swimmin'. Oh, mates. I tell ya-"

"Here we go," Tory groaned.

Indeed. The conversation turned lewd, mostly from Geoffrey's end, as Tory listened with a long-suffering smile. Snively kept his eyes down, gaze going blurry, as he turned the dirty chatter into white noise. Under the table, he moved his left wrist beneath his shirt, pressing the cold metal of his tracker to the burn.

He became aware that the discussion had turned back to him.

"Huh?" He mummered.

"I was just saying - I always wondered what Overlanders looked like, under all those clothes they wear." Tory repeated, glancing at Snively. "Well, especially the women."

"Why do they wear all that stuff anyway? Blimey, even when it's swelterin' hot. Cold I can understand."

Snively didn't like this line of conversation. Again, he calculated his chances of running for the door. They looked at him. He slumped in the chair, his arms clutching his chest. "Why do you wear boots? Why are you wearing a vest?" He gave Geoffrey a sullen glare. "Why do you wear that dumb hat?"

"Because the ladies love it." Geoffrey pulled the beret rakishly to one side. "Maybe if you wear one, Bunnie'll let you back in her bed."

Midge and Tory laughed while Snively grit his teeth. "I'm not in her bed, you oaf. Stop saying things like that!"

More laughs.

"I bet Bunnie's seen him with all those silly clothes off.”

"Why do you keep talking about this?" Snively sat up, glaring at the three. Change the subject already!"

"Crikey, mate. You sure are getting hopped up over some silly pieces of cloth. They're just to keep you warm or accent how bloody handsome you are. I mean, I am.”

“Then you'll have no problem switching topics. We haven't heard about nearly every wet dream regarding the Princess yet...”

Geoffrey shook his head, unable to be shaken off so easily. He grinned as he peered about at his friends. “You know, Tory...we're in luck. We might not have an Overlander woman here, but we do have a little girl." Geoffrey snickered. "Come on, Snively. Get up and show us what you got."

"What?"

The striped Mobian leaned over the table, poking him in the chest. "Take that shit off. All of it."

"I don't think so." Snively slouched lower, his arms tighter about his torso.

"You're such a jerk, mate. Here we are, tryin' to be diplomatic, learn more about your kind."

"Go ask NICOLE for an anatomy lesson," the human growled. "I'm not interested in show and tell."

"No?" Geoffrey raised his eyebrows. "Well, here's the deal, mate. You either take 'em off... or we're gonna rip them off. And then you'll have to walk outside in front of everyone with nothing on. Which, I guess to your kind, is a big deal."

"Why do you want me to take my clothes off?!" Snively wailed. "What is wrong with you?"

“We're askin' nicely, mate. But we can be...not nice about it.”

Snively leapt from his seat. He wouldn't make it, but he was going to run anyway. Midge jumped up, swiping at his arm. Snively dodged, ducked under the second attempt, and then kicked him hard in the shin. “Don't touch me, you flea-infested mutt!” Midge hopped on one foot, clutching at his boo-boo.

Snively made it halfway across the living room before Tory grabbed him in a bear hug and lifted him off his feet. The badger carried him, kicking and hissing, back into the kitchen. He dropped the bristling Overlander and retreated to guard the kitchen's entrance.

Geoffrey tsked and shook his head. “Well. Wasn't that rude? Guess we're gonna have to start ripping shit off. Midge, Tory? You ready?” They flexed their fingers and stepped closer to the Overlander.

“Ugh. Get away!” Snively stripped off his vest, then his tanktop. He whipped them down and held out his arms with a grunt of disgust. “There! The rest of it isn't any different. Get a good look!”

“Oh, no no no,” Geoffrey cooed. “You can't stop there. Keep going.”

Midge grabbed the vest and tore it at the shoulder.

Snively watched, dismayed, as it fluttered to the ground. Sally wasn't going to be happy about this. Tory scooped up his tanktop and began to stretch it between his gray paws. Snively screeched. “All right, all right! I'm doing it.” He knelt and removed his boots. The Mobians sneered in unison as his trembling fingers undid his trousers and he slid them off.

He stood up, but slouched, his twiggy arms crossed over his chest. His bare skin seemed to burn.

"Ew. They really are furless, aren't they. Like a plucked bird. Blimey." Geoffrey's critical gaze raked him up and down.

Snively avoided their eyes, staring over at the portrait of Stink Senior. I hate your son, he thought.

"What is that thing?" Geoffrey pointed towards Snively's last covering, his underwear. His last pair. Due to daily washing, they'd seen better days.

"Underwear..." the small man stammered. "Pants. Briefs. Knickers?"

"Don't get the point, mate."

Snively knew his cheeks were burning red at this point. "It's...it's just an Overlander thing. We...we don't have fur...to...to protect us." Like Bunnie, they didn't understand. After all, male Mobian bits were contained in an internal pouch until they were ready to use them.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Take it off."

"No!"

"Why not?"

"Because...because it's...private. Why do you want to see?!"

"Heh. Because we love seeing you squirm, you little shit. So get on with it."

"No...absolutely not!" Snively's entire body quivered. He pressed back against the wall.

"Rip up his stuff," Geoffrey ordered. Tory yanked at the tanktop anew; Midge snatched up his discarded trousers.

Snively quivered, his eyes darting towards the door, his fists clenched helplessly. And then he wilted. He, quite familiar with humiliation. Gagging helplessly as Uncle choked him out. Blubbering shamelessly on his knees while the red eyes glared down. Pissing himself from cruel blows to the gut, hearing Uncle's mockery as he was made to 'clean up his mess.' Oh yes, Robotnik did enjoy a good session of the shame game.

He imagined having to walk nude through the village, desperately clutching hands over his genitalia while Sonic doubled over in laughter and Sally's lip curled in disgust. Bunnie's giggles would be the worst. Him laid out bare before her amused eyes. He wanted to scream at the thought of it.

Best to choose the lesser embarrassment then. "D-d-don't!" He whimpered, hooking his hands into his waistband. "I'm doing it, all right, just please...stop."

He pulled his briefs down to his knees and clenched his eyes shut. A barrel of laughs poured over him. Cries of disgust and mock gagging sounds.

"Yuck! Everything just hangs out everywhere?"

"No wonder Overlanders are so angry all the time. They have tiny worms in their pants!"

"Sorry Sniv, you ain't gonna impress Bunnie with that limp little maggot. Ha ha!"

Snively grit his teeth. Thinking over and over: this is nothing compared to Julian.

"Hey, that means this is what Robotnik's dink looks like too."

"Gross!"

"Sniv is real familiar with Robotnik's weird dink. Gotta keep the boss happy, right?"

This is nothing compared to Julian. His fists were white-knuckled at his sides but he kept his mouth shut. He wouldn't whimper. He wouldn't fucking cry.

The taunts continued until Geoffrey finally spat derisively. "I don't know about you, mates, but I'm gettin' sick looking at this nasty little beast."

"Yeah. I wanna play cards."

"You can put your clothes back on, you little freak."

Snively quickly pulled up his briefs, opening his eyes just in time to catch his clothes as Midge and Tory tossed them at him. He was shivering and glad to get his pants and shirt situated. The vest hung sadly askew. As soon as his boots were buckled, Geoffrey grabbed his arm.

"Think you had enough fun. It's about your bedtime."

Snively let a sigh of relief as Geoffrey dragged him towards the door. Being thrown out wasn't a heart-breaking prospect. The skunk, however, turned towards another door; the small closet right by the entry. Yanking it open, he shoved Snively in. There was the distinct turning of a lock as Snively stumbled over things in the darkness and fell to the floor.

Something hard gouged his thigh. He cursed and yanked the offending item out.

From the feel, he deduced one of Geoffrey's boots. Pink, he imagined. Hanging clothes brushed his head...he imagined they were all some shade of distilled red.

“Idiot...” He tried the handle. Yes, locked. Sullenly he kicked the door a few times, and then sank back to the floor. At least this was a reprieve from being tormented.

A line of dim light filtered from under the door, and his eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness. It was a small space. He wouldn't be able to stretch out his full meager length, but he could stand without his head bumping the ceiling. Various footwear, mostly boots, stood in orderly rows. Bandoliers, shirts, and several long coats swung above.

He smirked slightly at the organization. Who was more anal, Geoffrey or Antoine?

Me, probably.

His eyes fell on a quiver of crossbow bolts. He drew one out, flipping it between his hands. For a while he sat, clutching the bolt and waiting for the door to open. From the sounds outside, they were too involved in their cards to bother with him. With a sigh, he leaned his head on the wall and closed his eyes.

He groggily opened his eyes some time later. His neck was stiff and he groaned as he lurched up to his knees. He had to piss. He wiggled the door handle, pressed his ear to the door. There was no inane chatter outside, and the light had dimmed considerably.

He growled. There was no way to know what time it was, or how long he'd been in here, but he imagined he had many long hours ahead of him. Well, fuck.

He passed a half hour in a spitefully destructive manner; yanking all Geoffrey's clothes onto the floor, kicking the orderly rows of shoes around, and snapping several of the crossbow bolts in half. With one of the bolts, he carved 'Geoffrey stinks' into the door; that immaturity done with...he grew bored and...

still had to pee. With a smirk, he eyed several hats (mostly magenta berets) on the closet's high shelf. He snatched one and after staring at the door to ensure it wasn't opening... unzipped his pants. Not usually so crass, he still got a sadistic kick out of making Geoffrey's beret all nice and soggy.

Like that, Geoffrey? The tiny worm bites back.

“Not that he'll be able to smell anything amiss... with his disgusting body odor to contend with....” He muttered and gingerly placed the soaked hat back onto the shelf. He grimaced and wiped his damp hand off on a random shirt.

With a sigh, he returned to the floor and curled up, using a wad of clothes as a pillow. The hours crept by through bursts of fitful dozing. He was shaken from sleep by the sound of footsteps.

Snively squinted, blinded as the closet door swung open.

"Good mornin'. Sleep alright, mate?"

"As snug as a bedbug."

"Fantastic," the skunk said.

Snively sneered. The lughead wasn't aware that bedbugs were nocturnal.

"And you wake up looking as ugly as one, too."

"Pfft. Just get out of my way, before I piss on your feet." Snively grumbled and shoved past him. I ought to defecate on his porch before I leave.

"No need to tell Bunnie where you stayed the night, right, mate?" Geoffrey followed him to the door. "Or any of our other fun?"

"If you're implying I'll tattle on you, that's a negative. Now sod off." Out of the wretched hut, he picked up the pace. He wanted to be well away before Geoffrey noticed the state of his closet.

"You keep talking to me like that, and I'll put you right back in there."

Snively kept walking.

Good. Then I can piss in every one of your hats.

#Junkysnivfic #Snively #I'm so mean to him 😆#This is a long one #Poopie artwork lol

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