#none of this stops me from scrabbling around up there

[cantankerouscatfish]

I like being on the greenhouse roof more than inside on the crossbeams bc if you fall through the roof, you can probably catch yourself on the crossbeams! they're kinda Right There.

but if you're on a ladder leaning on a crossbeam, you have to either catch yourself on smth in front of you, not under you, OR you fall 8ish ft to a bench if you're lucky or 10ish to the concrete if you're not. messy.

[writeyouin]

Oo I got something for TFO

If possible would you be open to doing a human s/o with D-16? Like the human came from another planet that was destroyed and they got stranded on Cybertron and somehow managed to end up in Iacon city?

D-16 (Megatron) x Reader – The Creature From Another World - Part 1 of 2

A/N – This is so much longer than I thought it would be. I think it may be the most fun, silly fic I’ve ever written and I am so happy that I got to write it. Also, SPOILERS FOR THE END OF THE TRANSFORMERS ONE MOVIE IN THE FINAL SEGMENT!

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

It was all Orion’s fault. Everything that was likely to get D-16 in trouble was his fault. It was always, ‘Hey, what if we searched the tunnels for something even more valuable than energon?’ Or ‘You want to come into the archives with me? Of course, I have a permit. It’s not like I would try breaking in… again.’

This time, the line that was sure to get D-16 into trouble was, “Hey bud, don’t tell anyone but I got us a pet!”

D-16 rubbed his helm exasperatedly, “A pet, Pax! Why can’t you just obey the rules for once.”

“Hey, there are no rules against keeping pets,” Orion said excitedly, heading over to his locker to retrieve the creature in question.

“Of course there aren’t! Because no one would be stupid enough to keep one!”

“You just haven’t seen it yet. It’s really cute.”

“I hope your spark eater tears off your face, Pax. I really do,” D-16 deadpanned.

“Not a spark eater,” Orion chuckled, then he began whispering into his locker, “Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt ya, little cutie. That’s it, settle down now.”

D-16 shook his head, “You’re gonna get demoted all the way down to the 40th sub-level and when you do, I’m not gonna save your sorry aft. Besides Pax, there isn’t enough energon to go around as is. How’re you gonna feed a pet?”

“That’s the thing,” Orion said eagerly. “It doesn’t fuel up on energon.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. What kind of thing doesn’t need energon?” D-16 asked, his curiosity finally getting the better of him as he tried to peek over Orion’s shoulder at the so-called ‘pet’ he was trying to grab.

He heard some scrabbling, Orion said some more soothing words and then Orion turned around, holding a creature half his size around the waist in both servos.

“D-16, meet our new pet, Minitronus.”

“Minitronus!” D-16 said excitedly. He knew Orion had only picked the name to foster his attachment and ensure that he kept the creature a secret.

D-16 got close to Orion’s pet, resting his hands on his thighs as he bent down. “Whoa, what is it?”

“C’mon D-16. If you don’t know, I’m not gonna tell you.”

“You have no idea, do you.”

“Not a one.”

The creature chittered angrily, pushing at Orion’s servos.

“It looks angry,” D-16 observed.

“It’s just getting used to us. That’s all.”

Orion began stroking at the creature’s head.

“Okay Pax,” D-16 said, resigning himself to Orion’s crazy new pet, as he knew he would from the start. “C’mon then. Tell me all about it. What does it eat? Where’d you find it? And most importantly, how’re we going to keep it a secret?”

“Hey! I said HEY! YOU UP THERE! STOP PETTING ME! I’M NOT AN ANIMAL, YOU BIG DUMB IDIOT!”

The giant metal man smiled at you affectionately, opening his mouth to say something you couldn’t understand. It all sounded like scraping metal and electrical noises and you couldn’t make sense of any of it.

Ever since the Quintessons had abducted you, your life had been nothing but trouble. You were their prisoner but when they found out your planet had nothing of worth, they decided it would be better to experiment on you. The only consolation was that you could at least understand the Quintessons, who had multiple translator devices on their ship.

You were very fortunate that the Quintessons didn’t view you as a threat since they didn’t bother keeping you in any kind of high-security prison and so you managed to escape before they did anything too terrible. The worst you suffered were a few zaps from a weak cattle prod, probably testing your nervous system.

Yet, having escaped the Quintesson ship, you had landed yourself into deeper trouble. You had found yourself on a living metal planet, and though a few plants grew on the ever-transforming surface, the pocket computer you had stolen from your captors informed you they were poisonous.

Fortunately, you had thought a few things through regarding your escape. You had managed to grab a backpack, stuffing it full of provisions and interesting gadgets. The food was stored in dehydrated cubes so with proper care, it could last you months, maybe even an entire year. The backpack also contained a device to keep you warm, a cube that turned into a forcefield when thrown to the ground, and most importantly one of the translators that had allowed you to understand the Quintessons along with a few other gadgets.

However, despite your planning, things hadn’t gone very well for you. After touching down on the planet, you boarded a train that you hoped would take you to civilisation, and while it did take you to a city underground that was more beautiful and advanced than you could imagine, it was clear that the alien life-forms there had never seen an organic creature before.

The few you tried to talk to initially screamed as if you were vermin and tried to blast, stab, and crush you in succession. As you scrambled for your life, you took a kick to the back, saved by your pack which had broken your much-needed translator.

You ran and hid, keeping out of sight and soon you started feeling like the vermin the metal people viewed you as. You learned quickly to keep out of sight and made your way to where there were fewer bots, spending many quiet hours either sleeping in vents or trying to repair your translator with the limited knowledge you had.

Yet, your luck couldn’t last forever and eventually, you ran into a vent that turned out to be a transportation tunnel to and from the mines. It was there that Mr Big-Red-Idiot-Bot caught you and took you to the charging bays. At first, you thought your luck was turning around and that he was going to take you to someone who would be able to understand you since he was obviously trying to be gentle with you. Then it became clear that he just thought you were some kind of stupid animal in need of care and he adopted you as his pet.

“What are these things?” D-16 asked, gently lifting your top.

You slapped at his servo, swearing at him even though he couldn’t understand you. Orion laughed, “I don’t know, but that’s how it reacted to me too. I think they’re to keep it warm. Either way, it doesn’t like it when you touch them. Oh, and hey, check this out, it does tricks.”

Orion shoved you back into his locker where your bag was. You ran to your pack, hurriedly grabbing your broken translator and showing it to the new grey bot. You had tried repeatedly showing it to Big Red, but he didn’t get what you were trying to do and always just laughed at you.

“What’s it holding?” D-16 asked.

“Playing with some scrap metal. Isn’t that cute? It has a favourite toy! I think Minitronus might have belonged to someone else once because it has all these adorable toys in there and it can make its own fuel.”

You sighed. Clearly, the grey bot was no better than Big Red, but at least he wasn’t trying to kill you. You shook your head and began searching your pack for some tools to repair the translator. Upon seeing you grab a screwdriver, Orion took it from you.

You yelled a few more insults, demanding it back but Orion just teased you, holding it just out of reach.

“Aww does Minitronus want the toy? Do you? Do you? That’s it, reach for the toy. Grab it.” He cooed.

D-16 rolled his eyes, amused by both Orion and his new pet. He snatched the miniature ‘toy’ screwdriver from his friend, handing it back to you. “Don’t tease it, Orion.”

You nodded gratefully at D-16 and he ruffled your hair. This time, you didn’t bother insulting him since he had given you what you wanted.

The work alarm went off overhead and Orion slammed his locker shut just in time for the influx of workers to come through the shared stasis bunker on their way to work. D-16 tried to fight against the crowd to stay by the locker but Orion pulled him into the fray, muttering that it would look suspicious if he wasn’t at work on time.

“But what about- Will it be okay in there?” D-16 whispered as they headed into the lift.

“Sure,” Orion said from the corner of his mouth, trying to be quiet. “It’s been in there for days and it's been fine.”

“If you say so.”

“I do. Now be quiet and act normal.”

D-16 smiled and gave a small awkward wave to a bot in front of him who was observing the pair with a raised optical ridge. Over the years, Orion had caused more than his share of trouble so D-16 was used to the scrutinising looks from others, though he always got nervous when they both had something to hide.

You sighed and rested your hands on your hips. It was awful being constantly stuffed in a locker, especially since Big Red didn’t seem to think things through. He shoved you in your new ‘home’ whenever other bots were around or when he went to the lift which you assumed meant he was working. The problem with that was that his species didn’t tire easily and could work a very long time, and with this being what you could only assume was the poorer part of the city, there were always other bots around. You had to get your translator fixed quickly, or else you would spend the rest of your life in the locker. Still, things weren’t all bad. It was warm and safe. You often used your backpack as a pillow, sleeping through the first few hours before getting back to your repair work. You had privacy and a personal collapsable service suite that pulled moisture from the air so you could drink or shower - it even took care of your waste by vaporising it; alien inventions sure were convenient. Besides, now the other bot knew about you too, and perhaps he could help you. Resignedly, you set about keeping to your normal routine and began some light repair work, too awake to rest now. You only wished you knew what you were doing and that you had even the faintest idea on how to fix alien technology; your life depended on it.

Orion and D-16 were the first up and out of the elevator, avoiding the usual crowds by skipping the last few minutes of work with a lame excuse about being called upstairs. Honestly, the pair got into so much trouble they were often called up to meetings with higher-ups for tellings-off, which Orion usually tried to talk his way out of, and so nobody so much as batted an optic when they left.

Upon getting up to their quarters, Orion and D-16 were both relieved to see that the rotation team had already filed out, presumably having taken one of the other lifts to a different mine. Orion ran to his locker and hurled it open.

“Aww, look,” He pulled D-16 close to get a good look at you. “Minitronus is recharging. Hey, do you think it’s dreaming of us? Pets do that, right? Dream of their owners?”

“I mean, if Minitronus is thinking of me, that’s a dream. If it’s you, it’s a nightmare.”

Orion elbowed D-16 in the chassis then reached in to grab you.

D-16 pulled him back, “Whoa hey, don’t wake it.”

“We have to. It’s time for walkies and this is the only time we can get out of here quietly before the others catch up.”

Reluctantly, D-16 let Orion go.

You jolted awake, terrified until you remembered where you were and that you were now the ‘pet’ of an advanced alien. You settled groggily in his arms, wondering what he was going to do with you now.

He proffered you some words that sounded like two lawnmowers smashing together, but by his expression, you could tell he was happy. Then he jostled you, miming something you couldn’t understand until it was too late.

You scowled at Big Red with your arms folded, too insulted to even try yelling as he tugged you along an empty alley on your new wire lead.

This was a new low.

“I don’t think Minitronus likes walkies,” D-16 commented as you dug your heels into the floor, trying to hold your ground.

“Nonsense,” Orion said, trying to be gentle as he pulled at your lead, making you stumble forward, “It’s just not used to it yet.”

D-16 patted his thighs, “C’mon Minitronus. That’s it. Here Minitronus. Minitronus.”

After a few more attempts, you realised that the gentle electrical hum Grey kept repeating must be his name for you. Huh… Well, at least the repetition meant they had a stable language.

You listened again and tried to mimic the sound, making both bots pause to look at you.

“Did it just…?” D-16 asked, pointing at you.

You mimicked the sound again.

“It did,” Orion agreed. He ran over to pick you up, spinning you in his arms, “Who’s a smart Minitronus, huh? Yes, you. You are!”

Although your mimicry had been good, it wasn’t quite enough to convince them that you were sentient. Rather, they were looking at you like a parrot who had picked up a new phrase. Instead of repeating your name, you had managed a babyish mumbling somewhere close, that sounded more like Mini–Tron.”

D-16 beamed and petted your head, quickly coming to love his new pet. Orion was right, it was smart and cute.

“That’s so cool, I wonder if we can teach it more words.”

“I’m definitely teaching it swears,” Orion laughed.

Eventually, the pair headed back to the underground, with Orion heading in first, making sure everyone was recharging, before signalling for D-16 to follow with you.

“Oh, c’mon, don’t put me back in the locker,” You whined as you were placed on the top shelf.

“Oh no, don’t cry,” D-16 begged, listening to you pitchy chittering. He held a digit to his lips, shushing.

“You two will be gone for ages, what between sleeping and working, and it’s dark in there,” You continued, even though he couldn’t understand you.

You only stopped talking when he held you against his chassis, petting your head. You sighed in understanding. He was trying to keep you safe; this was all for your own good.

‘Okay,’ You thought, feeling strangely comforted by Grey’s actions. ‘If this is how it has to be for now… Okay.’

Orion gave an enthusiastic thumbs up to D-16, glad that he had managed to keep your mewls under control.

“Goodnight, Minitronus,” Orion whispered before shutting the door.

“We love you,” D-16 added.

You shook your head after the door shut; life was going to be interesting with those two.

“PAX!” Elita-One shouted, jetpacking up the empty elevator shaft to catch up with Orion and D-16 who had stolen away from work early for the third time that week.

Orion held you behind his back, hiding you just in time before Elita got in his face.

“Captain, what a surprise!” Orion grinned cheekily, already trying to smooth-talk his way out of the situation. “Me and D-16 were just saying what a great and wonderful leader you-”

“Can it, Pax!” Elita glowered. “I’ve had just about enough of you. It’s bad enough that you’re a troublemaker but now, you’re dragging D-16 down with you and- what’s behind your back?”

“My back? Nothing at all,” Orion shoved you into D-16’s open arms, and he in turn hid you behind his leg, trusting that you wouldn’t run away if he wasn’t holding you.

Elita grabbed hold of Orion, slamming him into the lockers, her eyes narrowing when she didn’t see anything worth hiding. She glared at D-16 who held up his servos in a shrug, gesturing to Pax who was already babbling about how strong she was and how no other Captain had had the strength to throw him so hard.

While Pax created a distraction and Elita-One continued her tirade against him, D-16 shuffled backwards, sneaking you out for your daily walk.

You had grown used to the routine now, learning the building’s alarms that marked the beginning or end of a shift. When it was coming time for Orion or D-16 to take you out, you always hitched on your backpack, just in case you needed anything, though you had long since learned not to work on your translator in front of Big Red, since he kept assuming it was a toy and continually threw it for you to fetch. Honestly, he was doing even more damage to the already broken machine, and it stressed you out constantly whenever you were forced to catch it before it hit the ground.

When you and Grey were alone, you always did repair work at the end of a walk, since he would take you somewhere quiet to rest for a while.

You had been living with the pair for just over two months now and in that time a few things of note had happened.

First, they had entrusted knowledge of you to a few of the others in their ‘platoon’ or whatever the group they worked in was called. This had happened after an incident wherein you had escaped your locker to explore and a silver and blue bot with a passion for dance stumbled into you and squealed. Big Red, and Grey hurried to your rescue and had to explain their ‘pet’ to him.

This led to you being the worst kept secret in the mining facility, though it was bound to happen eventually with so many bots living in close quarters. However, all the mining bots found you sweet enough and they all had a code of honour that meant they kept you secret from anyone with authority like Elita-One or any of the other captains.

Yet, while everyone knew about you and you were generally allowed out of the locker most of the time, it was still only Orion or D-16 who took you out, and they still tried to get out of work a tad early to check on you.

One of the other changes in your life was the delivery of a big bundle of wires as ‘toys.’ That was another word you had learned to mimic since Orion kept bringing you play-things and repeating the Cybertronian equivalent.

This happened after you kept picking up pieces of scrap wire on walks, taking them with you so you could use them in your repair work. At first, Orion and D-16 took them off you, afraid you would hurt yourself somehow, but when you kept collecting them and fought hard to keep the few you had, they assumed it must be a normal nesting behaviour and brought you a great deal more than you needed.

You were delighted with the gifts and hugged both bots for it. Then, after saving the few you needed for your translator, you weaved the extra wires into a new over-shirt. It was uncomfortable, but quite practical since your jumper was wearing away and you needed a new one to keep decent when you were washing your actual shirt.

Another problem to occur was your hair. In your time with the bots, it had grown very long, and much to your bemusement, Orion had tried cutting it. The whole thing had gone disastrously, and you suddenly understood those dogs that got terrible haircuts because they tried to escape their groomers; you could only be thankful that the bald patch was beginning to grow back.

The final change was Grey’s idea. He felt confident that you were well trained since you now responded to your name, paying attention when you were called through the miners’ hab-suite. Because of your actions, he often let you off-lead, which you were immensely grateful for. He rarely put the lead back on you unless he thought something was unsafe, so whenever it went on now, you clambered onto his shoulder, trusting that he would take you home and away from danger quickly.

It wasn’t a perfect life, but things were slowly improving. You could only hope that your lucky streak didn’t break and that you would be able to communicate your needs fully before the year was up.

D-16 sighed, sitting on the side of a tall building overlooking the city with you in his lap. You were content to let him pet you while you toyed with your translator. You went in an almost trance-like state whenever you tinkered with it now, honestly not expecting anything to come of it but needing to work all the same.

He continued speaking in his gentle, rhythmic noises and you hummed as if you understood, pressing a wire down with the flat of your screwdriver.

“- and that’s why I know what we’re doing is important. Even Sentinel says so. Us miners, we’re keeping Cybertron alive,” D-16 said proudly.

“Who’s Sentinel?” You asked absentmindedly.

D-16 screamed, accidentally throwing you off his lap.

“Hey, be careful!” You scolded. “You could have dropped me over the edge.”

You picked up your translator and brushed yourself off.

“Minitronus, you’re talking!” D-16 accused.

“Yeah, well so…are… Oh my God, I did it!” You breathed. Then you punched the air excitedly, “I DID IT!”

“WHAT IS GOING ON? HOW ARE YOU TALKING?!”

“I fixed my translator,” You squealed ecstatically, waving it in front of D-16.

“Your- Your toy?”

“Yeah,” You nodded, practically bouncing on the spot.

“This is impossible. You- You’re our pet!”

“No. Not a pet. Not anymore. I’m (Y/N). Okay, (Y/N),” You repeated your name slowly, trying to get it through to Grey who still looked panicked.

“Primus, this is insane.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“You’ve got to explain everything to me, right now.”

“Okay, sit down,” You patted the ledge.

D-16 did so, and you jumped back into his lap.

“What’re you doing? You can’t sit there now. You’re not an animal.”

“Hey,” You pushed against his servo, staying stubbornly in place, “I’m not going back on that ledge, I could fall.” “Fine,” D-16 relented. He went to pet your head again then stopped himself, keeping his servos stiffly by his sides. “As long as you explain yourself, you can sit wherever you want.”

Having told D-16 everything and had him explain a few things in return, things thankfully changed. Initially, things between you and all of the mining bots were awkward, with haunted comments from some of the bots like, ‘It saw me in the wash racks,’ or ‘I can’t believe I tried to rub its belly… No wonder it slapped me. Oh. Oh no.’

Once everyone got used to the idea, your life improved. You were still kept secret since none of the miners knew how the higher-ups would react to an alien species, but with some ingenuity and a few favours exchanged for information about your species and planet, they all came together to transform your locker into a proper living space, complete with all the amenities they could manage to scrape together. They even began forming a plan to try and have you off-planet and en-route somewhere you could survive before your supplies would run out.

After D-16 and Orion were over the weirdness, you still had them take you on your daily excursions, sans the lead since you were no longer their pet. Orion managed to laugh about the whole thing, but D-16 grew to be even more strained around you. However, you didn’t get to ask him about it till you were next alone with him, which was a long time afterwards.

“So… Do you hate me now?” You asked him one day while he walked a few paces ahead of you, keeping an eye out for anyone who he would need to hide you from.

“What?” D-16 sputtered. “I- I don’t-”

“It’s okay,” You smiled easily. “It’s a strange situation.”

D-16 felt his insides squeeze. He had held onto you while you slept. At the time, he thought you were cute. Now though… You were still cute when you slept, but it was a different kind of cute – Softer, somehow.

“I told you everything,” He sighed, defeatedly. “My life, my dreams, my fears.” He shook his head, continuing mournfully, “And you didn’t understand any of it.”

“Not true,” You contradicted, running to stand in front of him.

He watched you warily.

“I might not have known what you were saying, but I did understand you. Your tone, expressions, the sound of your voice. I understood more than you think.”

D-16’s spark pulsed.

“Let’s go home,” He said quickly, turning on his heel and walking away from you.

The two of you had to go where you wouldn’t be alone or things would change again.

D-16 was falling in love with you and he couldn’t let that happen. There were too many unknowns and he had his planet to think about. He was a miner – the life force of his planet. That’s what Sentinel Prime always said, and work came first.

Besides, you weren’t going to be on Cybertron forever. You couldn’t be. Once your supplies ran out, that would be it for you.

D-16 couldn’t get attached. It wasn’t like you were a pet anymore. You didn’t belong to him, even if he wanted you to.

You ran through the destruction of Iacon City, terrified by everything that was happening. Honestly, you had missed most of the events leading up to it, having been stuck in Sentinel’s tower, but you had seen the so-called Prime torture and brand D-16.

Afterwards, you tried to find him or Orion, but you were small and Iacon was big and the city was collapsing around you.

You screamed as you were grabbed seemingly from nowhere and looked up to see D-16, though he looked slightly different thanks to the new infusion of Megatronus’ T-Cog which you hadn’t seen him take from Sentinel’s corpse. Also, there was one other change – his angry red optics, which bore into you.

“D-16,” You shouted, “What’s going on? Where’s Orion?”

“Orion is dead,” He growled. Though he had made a promise that nobody else would be deceived, you needed to hear that lest you side with Orion over him. Besides, it wasn’t a lie. Orion was dead – Dead, and replaced by Optimus Prime. “And my name is Megatron.”

“Orion- Orion’s dead,” You repeated, too shell-shocked to even cry at the moment.

“Yes,” Megatron glossed over your emotions, far too focused on his rage as he transformed around you, keeping you safe inside his alt-mode. “And we’re leaving.”

“Where are we going?”

“To war!”

Yet, even as Megatron burned with hatred and his desire to bring down the corruption that fuelled his planet, he was already reading the intel sent by the disgraced High Guard, informing him of several nearby planets where you would be able to get the organic fuel you required to stay online.

Megatron had lost everything. He was not about to lose his beloved pet too. You were his, and you always would be.

A/N - Hey, I worked really hard on this so please comment, or at the very least reblog. Likes aren't enough anymore guys, they just aren't.

[joelalorian]

Petals of Affection - Part I

A floral mystery in three parts featuring Jackson!Joel x f!reader

Summary: A secret admirer gifts you a different flower and a riddle ten times before you put the clues together and discover that he's been right in front of your face the whole time.

Written for @morallyinept's Flora & Fauna challenge. Please check out all the wonderful works created in Jett's honor!

I know enough about flowers to fill a thimble. Really, all I know is how to kill them, accidentally or otherwise. Everything to do with the flowers in this story is courtesy of Google, so please suspend disbelief at how some of these could exist in Wyoming, yada yada. I just picked ones that fit the narrative.

Word count: 4,284

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, humor, cursing, gratuitous use of poor floral descriptions, scheming, clueless reader, fluff, eventual smut, alcohol, food, coffee, terms of endearment. POV flops around like a fish outta water. Reader has no physical description aside from having hair that gets frizzy with humidity and often dirt-covered hands, because greenhouses, ya know? No use of y/n, none whatsoever.

Dividers courtesy of the wonderful @saradika-graphics. Gif chosen because of the wonderful floral wallpaper ;)

Hope you enjoy!

Part II | Part III | Masterlist

An oasis in a world rife with death and devastation, you clung to the life the reinforced walls of Jackson offered. After years of struggling to survive each new day, you felt like you could finally take a deep breath. Everyone was no nice and welcoming, some more than others, and you slipped right into the fabric of the small community.

Within a month of your arrival, Maria assigned you to the greenhouses, having picked up on your knowledge and love of plants – particularly flowers. You must have bored her to death one too many times regaling the language of flowers over a bottle or two of aged wine while seated together on her couch. The two of you became fast friends, the kind that felt like you’ve known each other forever. It was exactly what you needed, longed for even, after long bouts of solitude.

Being close to Maria meant you visited their house often. And equally often, you would find Joel Miller there, deep in conversation with his brother about one matter or another. His eyes always flashed when you entered the house, and he’d stop mid-sentence to greet you with an effortless, “Howdy darlin’” as you followed Maria to the kitchen.

Soon enough, the soft greetings turned into more substantial conversation as the four of you dined together or gathered at Maria and Tommy’s for game night, playing whatever new board game the men found while on patrol. Laughter and friendly arguments filled the air on those nights, making it easier than ever to forget about the carnage and desolation beyond the walls.

Tonight, the four of you played Scrabble – it took Tommy finding three sets of the game to get all the letter tiles required to actually play – and your belly hurt from how hard you laughed whenever Maria challenged Joel on a word. He was better at the game than you would have thought – his reserved nature and southern twang not giving away how well-read he was.

“Denied! Fartlek is not a word, Joel. There’s no way!” Maria insisted, not willing to give into Joel’s apparent triple word score on the word that would have him take the lead in total score.

“Is to a word,” Joel returned stubbornly, refusing to remove the letters from the board. “Look it up if ya don’t believe me. It’s in the fuckin’ Oxford dictionary.”

“Oh, it is, is it? Is it in the Cambridge one, too? What does it mean then?” Maria wasn’t backing down, ripping a battered dictionary right out of Tommy’s hands to see for herself.

“Hey! I was looking it up,” Tommy yelped, shooting a wink at you as you both watched the drama unfold.

Ignoring his brother, Joel rattled off something about the word being related to running. At least, that’s what you thought he said, you were too busy fighting back tears from laughing too hard. Sure enough, he was right.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Maria grumbled, flopping back into the couch cushions. “It’s a training technique for running. Screw you, Miller.”

Unsurprisingly, the game ended shortly thereafter with Joel the victor by a healthy margin. After helping to clean up, you offered appreciation and hugs to Maria and Tommy for a delightful evening. “Next time, let’s play something less…”

“Cerebral?” Maria supplied with a frown.

“Annoying?” Tommy interjected with a grin.

Joel stayed quiet, a half-smile gracing his lips as he waited for you to finish your sentence.

“Just something that doesn’t require a dictionary or cause so much arguing,” you laughed. Waving between Joel and Maria, you added, “You two can never agree on anything! See you all tomorrow.”

“I’ll walk you home, darlin’,” Joel said, rushing to put his jacket and boots on and catch up with you. When you opened your mouth to let him know you’d be fine on your own, he added, “Gotta check in on Ellie anyway.”

Maria and Tommy shared a look as Joel opened the door to usher you through. You caught them and frowned, feeling like you weren’t in on a joke or something.

The two of you walked in comfortable silence, the last remnants of winter’s snowy wrath crunching beneath your boots the only sound. You looked up at the night sky as you walked, gasping at the flash of colors in the otherwise darkened sky. Joel stopped, following your gaze upwards as you both stood mouths agape.

“That’s the northern lights, right? I’ve never seen it before.”

“Mmhmm. Aurora borealis. Pretty amazin’.”

“Beautiful,” you sighed, breath a cloud billowing in the crisp air, eyes soaking in every bit of the cosmic phenomenon.

You didn’t realize it staring up at the sky as you were, but Joel’s umber eyes were fixed on you when he replied, “Sure is.”

You stayed like, shoulders gently bumping as you both enjoyed nature’s show, until the temperature dropped further and you shivered. An awed smile remained plastered on your face the rest of the walk to your house, one Joel would never forget.

The dichotomy of the humid, warm air within the greenhouses and the chilled breeze outside confused your body, but you loved it. Sure, the humidity did nothing good for your hair, leaving it a frizzy mass around your head sometimes, but the dewy feeling on your skin always reminded you of childhood summers spent at the beach.

Tending to the various fruit and vegetable plants all morning, in what you deemed Greenhouse 1, you saved your favorite duties – the ones associated with flowers – for the afternoon. While you enjoyed caring for all the plants, you loved tending to the flowers, humming as you pruned and replanted clippings, expanding your every growing collection. If the patrol teams kept bringing you seeds and specimen back, you’d need yet another greenhouse. The council would just love that.

The creak of the door to Greenhouse Two drew your attention shortly after you switched gears and you stood, brushing the dirt from your jeans before glancing up. Your face shifted into a soft smile at the sight of Joel standing hesitantly just inside the door.

“Hey Joel, what did you bring me today?” You knew he had patrol duty and likely found some interesting plant during his travels. “Better not be western baneberry again. You know how poisonous those berries are!”

Stepping forward, Joel chuckled as you teased him. “I know now! It was one time and you’ll never let me live it down, will ya?” Thrusting his hand toward you, he dropped a small pile of seeds onto your dirt-covered palm. “Not sure what these are, but we found down by the ol’ mill. Might be something cool.”

“Might be,” you hummed, poking the seeds a little. Hopefully the cold didn’t get to them. You grabbed the nearest pot, quickly filled it with soil and sprinkled the seeds in as you tilled the top few inches. “We’ll find out soon enough what kind of treasure these are.”

Leaning back against a messy tabletop, hands on hips, Joel watched you tend to the new addition before finding the perfect place for the pot, nestled on a table amongst other seedlings. “Do you –”

Joel’s mouth snapped shut as the greenhouse door banged open next to him, a boisterous voice carrying into the warm space before its body did.

“Tangerine! Check out what I found today,” Alex, another member of the patrol team, called as he strolled right past Joel without acknowledgement. Younger and not as broad as Joel, the man held a growing affection for you, which irked the older man.

“Alex,” you sighed playfully. He was cute in a youthful, untrained puppy kind of way and had an annoying habit of calling you nicknames that made no sense. “I told you to stop calling me that. We don’t even have tangerines here.”

Snickering under his breath, Joel observed the younger man falling all over himself to impress you. Why you indulged the idiot, he would never understand.

Alex waved you off. “You love it, and you know it. Lookit here,” he said, thrusting his hand toward you. Slight though he was, Alex had large hands, and in his right one were three clusters of small, bell-shaped blooms with a purple hue.

“Prairie bluebell! Where did you find these?” Your face lit up as you took the blooms in a gentle grasp, admiring them for a moment before setting to work on replanting.

Alex prattled on boastfully about finding them just off a rocky path down near the river while Joel focused on watching you work. When Alex finally paused for breath, you chimed in with some flower lore.

“Did you know that bluebells are often called fairy flowers? It is said that the bluebells are rung to summon fairies to a meeting. But, since fairies aren’t always good, the flowers could be enchanted leaving anyone who wanders into a ring of bluebells lost in fairy woods.”

Joel snorted at the idea of Alex becoming lost in fairy woods, never to be found again. If only they could be so lucky, he thought. He knew there was more you could share about the symbolism of the delicate flowers, but it would be lost on someone like Alex.

Rolling his eyes, Joel was about to take his leave when Alex blurted, “Would you join me for dinner tonight? I heard they just got in some fresh venison.”

Absorbed in your work, you hardly heard him, and Alex repeated himself, a hint of annoyance in his tone. Joel froze, holding his breath in anticipation of your answer. Please say no, he thought. You could do so much better than this moron.

Brow furrowed, you stared at Alex, considering your response. “Like a date?”

The younger man nodded eagerly, a broad smile spreading across his lips. You glanced at Joel, not certain what you were hoping to see, and found him staring back, stone faced, arms crossed in front of his chest tightly. Giving you nothing to work with, your shoulders slumped, resigned. “Sure, I guess.”

Not the most enthusiastic answer, but you couldn’t remember the last time you went on a date and Alex was the only one asking.

You didn’t even realize Joel moved until the door closed heavily behind his retreating form.

The breeze carried a sense of change as you strolled home from your shift in the greenhouse. The weather was finally warming, ever so slightly, as Mother Nature loosened her grip on winter, letting spring slowly creep in.

Mixed emotions tumbled through your mind as your feet carried you through the streets of Jackson by muscle memory alone. Alex asking you to dinner caught you off guard – you had a feeling he was interested, but he never made any sort of bold move. The fact he finally did while Joel was standing right there threw you off balance.

Did you even like this guy?

Sure, Alex was attractive, with blonde hair, blue eyes, and tanned skin. But his personality made him seem more like a golden retriever, goofy and too eager to impress, than someone you could fall for. It made you wonder if there was any substance lurking under the surface.

In the absence of any other offers, did it even matter?

No, you guessed it really didn’t.

These thoughts carried you right to your front steps and you stopped, taken by the presence of something unusual waiting in front of your door.

A solitary stalk with a gorgeous jasmine bloom, a slip of paper wrapped around the stem held in place by nondescript string.

Picking it up, you held the flower to your nose, breathing in the rich, sensual aroma. The scent brightened your mood, and you slipped the scrap of paper from beneath the string. You whispered the words printed in a block scrawl you didn’t recognize.

Joyful moments shared; the answer lies in the air.

What did it mean?

Glancing around, you searched the street and neighboring homes for a sign of who might have left the flower and note for you. The only people in sight were your elderly neighbors, married couples, and the kids from a few houses down. None of them would have left you such a gift.

Who in the world left this for you?

Would Alex do something romantic like this? You doubted it, but what else did you have to go on?

Once inside, you trimmed the stem and put the flower in a container on the counter, placing the scrap of paper in front of it.

You gazed at the flower, mulling over the riddle before you. The note indicated that you’ve shared moments with whomever left the flower. Jasmine itself symbolized love and romance. You made friends with a lot of people since you came to town – too many shared experiences and moments to choose from.

Twenty minutes and too much thinking in circles, you were no closer to understanding the clues and teetering on the verge of being late for your date. You needed more data before hazarding any reasonable guesses.

“Why do you torture yourself like this?” Tommy questioned. Sitting at the bar watching his brother pining over you was not his idea of a fun Friday night. “You should just bite the bullet and ask her out already.”

Joel shook his head. He had no explanation for why he hadn’t made a move yet. For months now, he knew he liked you as more than friends, pined over you in silence, yet he never took the next step. Joel Miller was not a coward, but his fear of losing one of the few friends he had left in the world had him frozen in place, afraid to make any moves. He couldn’t take that chance. Finally putting words to the feelings roiling inside him, he told his brother as much.

“I get it, brother. I do,” Tommy replied, thumping Joel on the back in commiseration. “But can you really say you’re ok watchin’ her go on dates with asshats like Alex? ‘Cause that’s gonna keep happenin’ unless you do something about it. And I don’t mean killin’ the dude.”

Joel shook his head. Hunched over the bar, shooting surreptitious glances your way, he had to admit Tommy was right. He could think of few things worse than watching you go on a date with someone other than him, especially with dipshits like that guy.

“I ain’t killin’ anyone, but I do have a plan. Already put it in motion, in fact.” Picking at a scratch in the bar, Joel shifted his gaze from you to Tommy. “I might need your help with some of it. Maria’s too.”

“Oh yeah? Tell me all about this grand plan then.”

Unsurprisingly, the date was a dud.

Alex had the personality of a goldfish rather than a golden retriever, and the two of you had nothing in common. He also interrupted you mid-sentence no less than three times – once could be considered a mistake, but three times was an unforgiveable offense as far as you were concerned. You stopped making an effort about halfway through dinner and wished for a hole to open up beneath your seat and swallow you whole.

Worst of all, he acted like an entitled dickhead when you refused dessert, thanked him for the date, and let him know there wouldn’t be a second one. He’s lucky you didn’t knee him in the nuts before walking away from the table.

How unfortunate that dating sucked nearly as much now as it did before the fucking apocalypse. It was unfair, really. At what point did being a woman stop sucking?

Lamenting your lack of success in the relationship department, you trudged home. You wondered what Joel was up to – you caught a glimpse of him at the bar with Tommy earlier and he didn’t look happy, but you didn’t see him when you left. Part of you longed to visit him, maybe have a drink and sit on his porch gazing at the stars together like you’ve done before. But it was already late, and you didn’t want to bother him. Hell, he could have a woman over already, which would be mortifying if you interrupted. The thought sank unpleasantly in your mind until you got to your house and pushed it away.

A little gift waited for you on the porch, just like earlier. An orchid this time. Symbol of love, thoughtfulness, and charm. Your index finger traced the delicate petals with the gentlest touch as a smile slowly crept its way across your lips.

Another note was attached, and you plucked it from beneath the same kind of string, eyes devouring the words.

Overwhelmed by your grace, the answer hides in this place.

The flower wasn’t completely cold, so it had to have been left recently. Brow furrowed; you glanced around but there was no one in sight. You wracked your brain trying to figure out the identity of your secret admirer, but you were at a loss. Prior to dinner, you briefly thought Alex was the culprit, but now it was obvious he didn’t have a romantic bone in his lanky body.

You heart knew who it longed for it to be, but you refused to consider it. He didn’t want you that way, of that you were certain.

Giving the orchid the same treatment as the jasmine earlier, you tucked the stem into the same container and placed it on the coffee table so you could admire the blossoms while you fell asleep on the couch. After all, why bother with a big bed without someone to share it with?

Saturdays were your day off, but the sun shining through the curtains you forgot to close the night before ruined your plans of sleeping in. Grumbling at the unnecessary brightness, you stumbled into the kitchen desperate for coffee. The coffee tin felt light in your hand when you reached for it and, sure enough, you saw nothing but a tiny amount of powdery remains of coffee beans at the bottom.

God dammit. Barely eight o’clock in the morning and this day already had two strikes against it. It wasn’t looking good so far.

Not caring that you still wore the clothes from your date the night before, you quickly brushed your teeth and finger-combed your hair into submission before leaving the house. Pausing at the door for a moment, you debated whose house to go to. Joel always had coffee – it was his drug of choice – but Maria and Tommy were closer.

Not awake enough for decision-making, you let your feet carry you in whichever direction they wanted… which was exactly three feet onto the porch before they stopped. Another flower with a note sat waiting for you.

Your mood brightened considerably at the sight of the double-flowered, funnel-shaped Eustoma, petals a pale purple. The rose-like flowers weren’t native to Wyoming, but you got lucky months ago when someone found a seed packet. You were shocked the seeds were still viable. Did someone pluck it from the greenhouse? You gave away a few cuttings not that long ago, but unless they were replanted, there’s no way they’d last this long. It had to be from the greenhouse. Where the hell else would they get one?

The addiction-like need for coffee temporarily forgotten, you rubbed the Eustoma gently against your nose, confirming the lack of scent when you breathed in and wondered what the little note would say this time.

Endless thoughts of you, the answer is in the view.

Stepping back into the house, you added the flower with the others, mulling over the symbolism of the Eustoma. Whoever left it must be trying to tell you that they appreciate and admire you. But when you add it with the others, what did it all mean?

As good as you were with flowers, you were awful at solving mysteries. A detective you were not. Besides, it was still too early for this kind of puzzle.

The desire for coffee returned and you left the flower quandary behind as you made your way to Joel’s.

Joel didn’t expect to see you today, his day looking up when he opened the door to find you on his doorstep. His heart immediately sank when he noticed you wearing the same clothes from the night before, hair mussed.

“Your date must have gone well,” he said, eyes roving over your clothing, knowing his tone was less friendly than you were used to from him. “What are you doin’ here this early?”

You were clearly thrown off kilter by his remark, frowning as he stepped back to let you in.

“Wha—” you started to question him but shook your head. “I just came to see if you had any spare coffee. I ran out without realizing it.”

“Didn’t have any to offer Alex this morning? That’s a damn shame.” Joel felt the heat of your confused gaze on his back as you followed him into the kitchen.

“What are you talking about?” You sighed, staring at him with furrowed brows.

Avoiding your searching gaze, Joel poured a cup of coffee, adding the perfect amount of sugar you liked, and glowered at the cup as he handed it over. “You’re wearing the same clothes as last night. I assume you did the walk of shame this morning only to find you didn’t have any coffee.”

“It’s too early for your judgmental shit, Joel. You can be a real ass sometimes, you know that?” You turned to leave, mind trying to wrap itself around why this day was turning out so oddly. Mercury was in retrograde again, it had to be. You and Joel never spoke to each other like this. As you reached the door, not caring that you basically stole his coffee cup, you called over your shoulder, “And the date wasn’t even like that, for the record.”

“You’re welcome for the coffee,” Joel muttered as you let yourself out of his house.

“You didn’t have to be such a dick, you know.” Ellie appeared around the corner; arms crossed over her chest.

“I know. I couldn’t help it. The thought of her with that jackass just…” he sighed. “I got a little carried away, but it’s fine. The plan is still in play. Did you take care of what I asked you to?”

“You come up with some strange plans, old man. Yeah, I got it done.”

Fed up with the day and everyone in town before noon, you hid away in your house for the rest of the day. The interaction with Joel weighed on you the entire afternoon and well into the night. What was up with him? Were you being too sensitive, taking his comments personally?

If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was jealous you went on a date with Alex.

Unsurprisingly, you slept poorly and woke up groggy and unfocused Sunday morning. It was going to be a long day in the greenhouse if you didn’t find some coffee to power you up. Getting ready earlier than normal, you planned to stop at Maria and Tommy’s to see if they had coffee – there was no way you were going back to Joel’s after yesterday.

Opening the door to another brisk, early spring morning, the glint of sunlight on the porch drew your eyes to yet another flower waiting for you. Four in a row now, how long would this carry on for?

One of your favorites, you picked up the stalk with six lavender blossoms, violet in hue, and breathed in the fresh, light scent, savoring the sweet undertones. Fingers caressed the downy leaves, making you feel calmer, mellower, which was exactly what you needed.

You kept sniffing the floral scent as you read the accompanying note, finding it fitting.

 Lost in your scent, the answer is present.

“Tell me you have a secret admirer!”

Startled, you gasped, gaze shooting to Maria as she approached your house, two mugs of coffee in hand. You face shifted into a smile at the sight.

“I’m… um, I guess. I’m not sure?” You shrugged accepting the mug Maria held out toward you. “Thanks for this, I ran out.”

“I heard,” she replied. “Joel’s on the hunt for more, don’t worry.”

“Of course he is,” you rolled your eyes.

“Soooo…” Maria gestured to the flowers and note in your hand, seeking an explanation. “I feel like there’s a story here.”

“There is, I just don’t know what it is yet,” you admitted. Inhaling the calming scent of the lavender once again, you added, “This is the fourth one I’ve received. Each one has its own riddle. Let me show you.”

Leading the way into your house – you still had an hour before your shift started – you showed Maria the flowers and each note that accompanied them. In small print, you added what each flower symbolized to the corresponding note and numbered them in the order you received them, hoping every little detail would help you sort out the puzzle.

Maria looked over everything, smiling softly at each note. “Whoever this mystery man is, he’s quite romantic.”

“Right?”

“What do today’s flowers mean?”

“In the context of the rest of the flowers so far, love and devotion,” you replied, heat warming your cheeks.

Maria whistled softly. “Someone is down bad for you, girl. Any ideas who it could be?”

Shrugging defeatedly, you admitted, “Not a clue. The one person I’d want it to be would never do something like this.”

Maria hid a smile behind her mug as she sipped her coffee. “How can you be sure?”

tbc

[sunniskyies]

𝐎𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞 || 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐎𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: - 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After a haunting nightmare, you seek the only person who brings you comfort 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Finnick Odair x fem!reader 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Wounds, blood, burns, nightmares, implied trauma, cursing 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: Fluff, angst(?), plentiful clichés, boyfriend!finnick 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.2k 𝐀/𝐍: Omg I am so bad at writing anything except violence. Bear with me while I learn how to write fluff :,)

You’re halfway up the slick ladder, Katniss at the top offering her hand and Gale right below you. You’re panting hard, the mutts have caught up with the group and are now snapping at the base of the ladder.

“Y/N!” You hear a blood-curdling scream. You freeze, searching frantically in the darkness for a sign of him.

“Finnick!” You wail, and you’re replied to by another scream. You thought he was already at the top!

Above you, Katniss shines a light down on the pool of writhing bodies, and you can make out the golden skin of Finnick, three mutts tearing at his leg while he clings to the bottom rung.

An unearthly sound slips through your lips, and you begin to desperately climb back down the ladder. However, Gale shoves you roughly back up, Katniss and Cressida hoisting your thrashing body onto the platform. “Stop! No! We have to go back!” You sob, trying to wriggle out of their grasp.

Finnick’s head resurfaces from the tidal wave of pale bodies, his hands gripping two rungs as he begins to pull himself out of the mutts’ clutch.

“M’ sorry,” Katniss mumbles, half to you, half to Finnick. Hissing ‘nightlock’ three times, she drops the Holo over the edge and into the melee.

“No! He was just getting out-” Your shriek is cut off by the bomb going off, a blast of hot air searing your skin.

Clutching damp bedsheets, you jerk upright. Your heart is hammering against your ribs, your lungs taking heaving gulps of air. The room is still, the air is cool, and morning light streams in through the sheer curtains. No trace of the dank, dark tunnels you were just in.

You scrabble at your clammy skin, relieved to find none of the burns that once were. You sigh, letting your quivering frame fall into the nest of pillows and sheets.

You’re at home, lying in the bed you and Finnick share. It’s okay, you’re safe, it’s okay, it’s not real, you repeat to yourself like a mantra. That’s what Finnick tells you to do. Soon the pounding of blood in your ears quietens, replaced by the comforting silence of the bedroom.

The room actually isn’t completely quiet. A hum of crackling oil and soft singing trickles through the door left ajar, and your legs slip you out of bed and carry you out into the kitchen.

The remaining tenseness in your chest dissolves at the sight of Finnick cooking at the stove, the back of his familiar blond head greets you.

You softly pad over to him, wrapping your arms around his torso. You grasp at the loose white shirt he’s clad in, scared that he will disappear.

The sound of his deep chuckle reverberates softly through your head, your cheek pressed up against his back. “Good morning, sleeping beauty. How did you sleep?”

You swallow thickly. You don’t want him to know you’re still having nightmares, not after all these years. “Good. Whatcha cooking?” You say, trying to plaster sweetness over the wobble in your voice.

But of course, he knows you far too well to fall for that. Pausing for a moment as his brow furrows, his arms detangle yours and he pulls you around to face him. 

“Are you- whoa,” he pauses as his sea-green eyes clasp onto yours.

What?- oh.

You’ve got tears in your eyes. How had you not noticed? Are they fresh, or did you wake up with them?

“Sweetness, what’s wrong?” He asks, concerned. His calloused fingertips gently cup your face, thumbs gently brushing your waterline. You open your mouth to ensure you’re fine, but no words come out. Your eyes scrunch up, and you settle for a shake of your head.

Unsatisfied, Finnick's hands travel down to your waist, lifting you up and onto an empty countertop. His body presses close to yours, and your foreheads are touching as his thumbs brush invisible tears off your cheeks.

“What’s the matter, sweet girl?” He murmurs. You still haven’t opened your eyes, afraid fresh tears will fall if you do.

A finger under your chin, Finnick coaxes your eyes open with that unbearably smooth voice he has, his dimples materialising when your eyes finally meet his. They were probably tired and bloodshot, but the way Finnick looks at you, you might as well be a rare and priceless work of art, his features soft and syrupy with adoration.

“Was it that dream again?” He hums, his voice soft and laced with honey. Of course he already knew. He was just doing you the courtesy of letting you tell him yourself.

“Yeah,” you whisper hoarsely. “It’s been coming back a lot lately. I just can’t stop seeing it.”

Soft lips press themselves against that furrowed line between your brows, smoothing out the tension in your face. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Finnick murmurs, those endlessly green eyes staring into yours. You flush.

“Because I’m not the one who experienced it! I’m not the one who should be having nightmares!” You know that beneath the brown pants he's wearing, his legs bear teeth marks and his back sports skin grafted over burns. Scarless yes, but similarly to your own, the skin will never look quite right.

There's that heart-melting smile again. “Silly girl. What do you mean shouldn’t?” His voice is dulcet, soothing. “You watched the whole thing happen. I can’t imagine what that was like, and I mourn every day that you have to live with it.”

You shake your head again. “But you-”

“-Went numb as soon as it started happening. My brain stopped registering the pain pretty quick. If I had been up there instead, unable to do anything but watch you die, that would have been so much worse.” Finnick says, cutting you off.

Your eyes swim with tears, and you lean deeper into the man standing before you. If his smile could deepen, it did, a hand cupping your face like a precious jewel.

Salty, warm lips press against yours, his other hand pulling your waist into him. You feel like a kettle of warm water has been poured over you, trickling down into every inch of your body. You melt into him further, the kiss deepening before Finnick abruptly pulls away.

The hurt you feel quickly evaporates when Finnick spins around, shouting “Shit! The omelette!”

He pulls the pan off the heat and slides the omelette’s slightly singed halves onto a pair of plates. He quickly garnishes it, beautifully, and slides one along the counter to you.

“I hope your dreams go away soon. You don’t have to worry about me.” He returns to his spot in front of you, finishing the abandoned kiss with a peck. “I managed to climb out of there okay. Albeit a bit burnt, but okay nonetheless.”

You snort. “Like the omelette.” You take a meaningfully huge bite of your breakfast, making a dramatic satisfied sound. Finnick erupts into laughter.

“Yeah, like the omelette.” He grins. You go to take another bite off your fork, but a finger gently pushes it down and his lips connect to yours instead.

“Attention stealing from a piece of food, Odair? That’s a new level of smitten.” You grin against his lips. You feel him smile back.

“And proud of it, too!”

© sunniskyies 2024, do not repost or translate my work

[loveinhawkins]

The first notes of Eddie’s guitar solo tear through The Upside Down; Steve watches in horrified fascination as the bats follow the noise, as they form a thick, black cloud, like a plague of locusts.

And it hits him then that he simply cannot set one foot inside the Creel House.

“Nance,” he says. His voice cracks.

She turns to look at him, and suddenly she isn’t a vengeful warrior with a sawn-off shotgun: she’s just a girl who lost her best friend, who has spent years haunted by ‘what if…?’

“Trust your gut,” she says firmly, and that’s all he needs.

He spends a fleeting second squeezing Robin’s hand, just to steady him, and then he’s running back to the trailer.

The one thing that reassures him is that Eddie and Dustin are perfectly on time, the song cutting off just as they planned. Now run, you two, Steve thinks, as his chest burns with the effort, get inside and be safe, be safe, be safe.

But then he reaches the trailer, and he knows that something’s wrong.

Because the bats are clustered in one spot on the roof, scrabbling over the top of one another, and it makes him think of flies descending on roadkill.

He gets past all the wire and defences, and none of them take any notice. He pushes the front door open with the force of his shoulder, slams it shut again, makes sure it sticks.

And then he hears screaming.

He whips around to find Eddie driving his spear through a bat with a guttural cry. He’s on the floor, his upper body shielding something.

And then Steve sees Dustin. Dustin on the ground. Dustin bleeding.

No.

He sprints across and covers Dustin, too, slotting next to Eddie to form a complete shelter.

“Steve,” Eddie whispers, and his face is ashen. “Fuck, it’s the vents, they’re in the fucking vents. I tried to—D-Dustin—I wasn’t quick enough, Christ, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—”

And he keeps repeating that, as if feverish, striking out again with the spear as another bat swoops for them. His aim is true, but that doesn’t matter now. It’s too late.

Steve looks down at the wound on Dustin’s thigh, at the blood spilling out relentlessly. And as Eddie cups Dustin cheek, pleads, “Stay awake, H-Henderson, you hear me? Dustin? Dustin, please,” Steve spots the bite on Eddie’s wrist. It’s barely anything, just a nick.

But it’s enough. Steve knows that it doesn’t matter how fast he is—the bats will just keep coming. They’re on the scent, to hunt. To devour. And his wounds are dried up. Old.

Fresh blood dripping from Eddie’s wrist. Dustin’s bloody leg.

Oh, you’re going to die, Steve thinks. Both of you.

Then he thinks Well, fuck that.

He flings off his jacket, wraps it tight around Dustin’s thigh. Dustin whimpers, eyelids fluttering.

“Shit, sorry, bud,” Steve whispers. “I know it hurts, I know, I know…”

Underneath the screech of more bats, he presses a brief, fierce kiss to Dustin’s forehead, pushes back his sweaty curls. I love you.

Eddie takes out another pair of bats in quick succession, slamming them with his shield—narrowly avoids their tails wrapping around his wrist. His luck won’t last forever, Steve knows that.

So he just has to be quicker.

He rips the end of his shirt with his teeth, pushes the torn fabric into Eddie’s hand.

“Eddie. Eddie, listen,” he says urgently. “It’s the blood, okay? They’re coming for the blood.”

Eddie wraps the fabric around his wrist as if on autopilot, eyes wide with fear.

“It’s the blood,” Steve repeats, as calmly as he can. “You’ve gotta stop the bleeding, okay? You can do that.”

Eddie nods jerkily, and some of his panic fades away, replaced with a white hot determination. He sets his jaw.

“Hey, Dustin?” Steve says. Tries to be gentle while raising his voice, praying it breaks through the pain-induced fog. “Eddie’s got you, okay?”

“Yeah,” Eddie chokes out. “I’ve got you, Henderson.”

His hand strokes through Dustin’s hair, too, and God, Steve trusts him. Trusts him so damn much.

Trusts him enough for this.

Steve jerks his head upwards to the gate. “Stop the bleeding. Get him home.”

Eddie nods again, but a wrecked laugh comes out. He ducks as another bat breaks in; Steve temporarily takes the spear, kills it without flinching.

“Jesus! How the fuck are we supposed to do that, Harrington? There’ll be hordes of those fuckers in a minute.”

“You’ll be fine,” Steve says. He discreetly pats at his pockets. Feels the handle of the switchblade. Touches Dustin one last time, a palm across his brow. “Look after him.”

“Hey, I—I don’t like your tone, man,” Eddie says. “We’re looking after him, together. Together, all right? Fucking promise me, Harrington.”

“You promised me first, remember? Stop the bleeding, get him home.”

“No, no, no, Steve, don’t you fucking dare—”

But Steve is already heading outside. He locks the door behind him, just in case, but he already knows Eddie can’t leave—won’t leave Dustin behind. There’s a thump at the door, a desperate jiggling of the handle. Steve shouldn’t look behind. He shouldn’t.

But, God. He can’t help it.

Through the glass, he can see Eddie standing there, breathing raggedly. Terrified.

Steve can’t hear him through the cacophony of the bats’ cries, the thunder and lightning. But he can read his lips.

Don’t. Please don’t.

Steve brings out the blade. Slashes it right across his palm.

Eddie screams.

I’m sorry, Eddie, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what else to do.

Steve runs. He grins savagely as he hears the bats following him, all of them, like he’s the fucking Pied Piper of Hamelin.

Yeah, that’s right, you sons of bitches. Steve laughs through a searing pain in his side. You’ve already had a taste. Come and get me.

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Sidekick's Death -- and Hero's Rage part 2

Warnings: death of Hero's sidekick, grief & denial, bleeding and grievous injuries, passing out

Hero's breathing was harsh and ragged as Villain lowered her to the ground, where she flopped limply onto her front in the dirt.

"You can't..." Hero's voice faded as she sucked in another rattling breath, injured and tired and bleeding, beaten. But that didn't stop her from scrabbling at Villain's shoes with blood-caked fingernails like a wild animal, desperately begging.

On any other day Hero would never sacrifice her dignity in such a way, would never grovel at his feet. But this was different. It was about Sidekick this time, and she'd do anything for him. She needed to see him with a gut-wrenching desperation and Villain was standing in her way and--

Hero gave up, knowing she couldn't win, and laid limply on the ground at Villain's feet, sobbing and wailing wretchedly into the dirt. She hoped he would have the mercy to kill her too. She couldn't imagine living without her sidekick, her dearest friend and ally.

She was distantly aware of the sound of vehicles approaching, and knew out of experience that it was the media and news crew rushing to get a story and be the first reporter on the scene. But she didn't care. It was over. Sidekick was gone.

Grief and devastation stabbed her right in the chest, yawning open into a giant black pit of nothingness, of hollowed-out agony that knew no bounds.

She was shivering and shaking violently, and she flinched hard when she felt a hand on her arm, forcefully dragging her up from the ground. She cried out in pain as Villain picked her up entirely with one arm around her back and another under her knees.

Hero's head lolled weakly in his arms, and she struggled to fix her blurry vision on his face. But she could have sworn Villain himself was shredding tears as he carried her off the scene and away from prying reporter's eyes, taking her to who knows where.

"How could you let Supervillain kill him," Hero rasped weakly. "How... could you..." her voice trailed off into a whisper of breath as her consciousness ebbed and faded, and she mumbled inconsolably, babbling nonsense and speaking in circles. She was in shock, badly injured and unable to fully process what had just happened, her mind reeling. She cried hard until the exact moment she passed out, tears flooding down her face like twin rivers of agony.

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

Hero woke up in a world of pain, and it took a second to center herself.

Wait. This wasn't her home. Nor was it the medical wing back at her hero base. Where was she?!

A stinging pain in her leg made her gasp and twitch in surprise, and she looked down to find none other than Villain himself, cleaning and treating her injuries, eventually wrapping them in gauze. She wanted to kick him in the face, but was terrified to realize she could hardly move at all, her body dead weight on the couch she was resting on. Then the memories came flooding back in a nauseating wave, and Hero's breath hitched. "Sidekick--is he really--"

"Yes," Villain answered without glancing up from his work, "it was all real, Hero. Sidekick's gone. I'm sorry."

"’Sorry’ won't bring him back," Hero croaked hoarsely, and Villain visibly winced.

“I didn't know Supervillain would take it that far,” Villain whispered, half to himself. As if it justified anything!

"You work with him every day!" Hero shrilled. "How could you not know your own ally well enough to predict this?!?"

"Watch your tone," he growled warningly. But his eyes were full of genuine guilt and sorrow.

"Watch my--" Hero sputtered for words, gaping at him with eyes filled with anger and hate. "How dare you! This is all your fault, and you have the audacity to tell me to watch my tone?!"

Villain raised his hands placatingly with a weary sigh. "Sorry. Just calm down, okay? You don't want to get your heart rate up too high..."

Hero stared at him.

He stared back.

And Hero caved, sniffling quietly as she broke down all over again, anger dissolving into anguish. She turned her face to the side in a vain effort to hide it, but her sobs kept getting louder as the grief plowed into her. The realization that Sidekick was never coming back. She'd never go on another mission with him ever again.

Villain hesitantly reached out but paused, not sure how to react or comfort the weeping hero. This was definitely not part of the contract of being a villain.

Cautiously, Villain took a seat on the edge of the couch, carefully laying a hand on Hero's shoulder in some faint semblance of reassuring.

Hero didn't slap it away like Villain expected, and he took it as a good sign. It meant Hero was accepting his help, to some small degree. Or maybe she was just too lost in the grief to care.

"I'm so sorry, Hero," Villain murmured, and he meant it this time -- there was no trace of condescension in his tone like usual, no characteristic mockery or teasing.

It was a raw, vulnerable moment for both of them, a mutual understanding and shared pain that went bone-deep.

Because Villain missed Sidekick too, in some strange way. He had never known him personally -- only through fighting him on the battlefield -- but Sidekick had been such a ray of sunshine that Villain almost looked forward to fighting him sometimes. So full of witty remarks and barbed banter that could make anyone smile and laugh, even Villain himself on occasion.

But now Sidekick was gone, and left behind was... nothing. An empty void, an aching absence. A hole in both Villain and Hero's hearts that cried out with 'something important is missing here', like they couldn't comprehend it.

Villain stayed there for a long time, gently rubbing Hero's shoulders while she shook and sobbed wretchedly, the sound breaking Villain's heart to hear. So full of agony and anguish. He stayed with her long after she cried herself to sleep when she was too exhausted to stay awake anymore. Stayed and watched her hiccuping breaths slow to a more even rhythm, though tears still stained her cheeks.

Only then did Villain let himself break down as well, once he was certain Hero wouldn't see him cry. He couldn't bring himself to show her such weakness, even as he grieved. He felt so utterly human right now it tore his heart and soul apart. He was used to dissociating from reality to get things done as a notorious villain used to hurting people on a daily basis, but he'd never felt so present, so here, than right now.

Tears were still falling when Villain felt his phone buzz in his pocket and pulled it out, the screen lighting up to show a new text by Supervillain.

Where are you? You should have been here by now.

Villain gritted his teeth so hard it hurt, and angrily stuffed his phone back in his pocket without answering. Supervillain didn't know this particular hideout's location, so he couldn't teleport into it to check in.

But Villain had no intention of meeting back up with him tonight. Or ever again, after witnessing Supervillain's brutality firsthand.

Supervillain was dead to him.

(*not planning on continuing this particular storyline*)

⏪️ Back

Masterlist

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump

@ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things @togzy @floral-comet-whump

@whump-till-ya-jump @cravesunconditionallove @whumpwritinglover222

[iliketangerines]

Idk if you do male x male but if you do- could you do like Raiden or just like- Wu shi academy boys ((liu, Lao, Raiden)) with a male reader who’s tall, buff, really intimidating- like those tall buff Japanese/Chinese guys but he’s very traditional and wears like yishang clothing and also a complete bottom and just a complete himbo. He’s taller and stronger then the boys and attracts the ladies ((which makes the boys jealous that some girls are trying to take their pookie away💦))

hands off!

a/n: i gotchu cutie, and djskdbdbs i want them to mark me up

pairing: liu kang x amab!reader x kung lao x raiden

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), blowjobs, handjobs, edging

Lao and Raiden had not been expecting you when they had come to the academy

you were tall, broad, strong, and dressed in a beautiful hanfu stitched and clearly made with a lot of effort and love

and when you opened your mouth to speak to greet them in a low voice, they were both heads over heels for you

they fight for your attention whenever you pass by them when they’re training, fighting harder and making harder jabs and trying to show off their skills

you never seem to notice, just smiling as you strip off your hanfu to only leave the baggy pants as you practice your exercises in the yard

Lao and Raiden can’t help but drool at the sight of your body, thick arms and a defined chest, but they both stop in their tracks as they watch Liu Kang come up to you and ask to spar

you agree happily, dopey smile on your face as you get in the ring and spar with Liu Kang with precise strikes and a body that moves like water

you barely win, your thick arms bulging as you bring Liu Kang into a chokehold and pin his legs down with your own

Lao and Raiden cannot concentrate on their own training for the rest of the day, distracted by the thoughts of your arms and your chest and everything else about you

but neither of them miss the way that Liu Kang has his sights set on you or the way that his body gravitates towards you at meetings or meal times

you don’t seem to notice though, happily eating away and explaining about something you saw in the flowers as you were trying to meditate

it’s one of those rare days where Liu Kang has brought his champions out into the nearby town to explore and rest from training

Johnny Cage and Kenshi disappear almost immediately, and so you’re left with Raiden, Lao, and Liu Kang to wander about the town

you stop by a variety of stalls, looking over the food, and the other three trail behind you like lost puppies, scrabbling to buy whatever they could if you even just glanced at it

but it's Raiden who first notices when they’re distracted with haggling for the price of some jewelry you looked at that a girl has come up to you

she’s twirling her hair and grabs onto your bicep, squeezing the muscle, as you remain oblivious to her flirting and make small talk

jealousy flares to life in Raiden’s body, and he leaves Lao and Liu Kang to place an arm around your waist and drag you away from the woman

it happens for the rest of the day, you're completely oblivious as various women place their hands up on your arms and chest or bend over in front of you trying to get your attention

it leaves Lao, Raiden, and Liu Kang feeling frustrated as you continue to frolic among the stalls ignorant to the hungry stares

they cut the day short, dragging you out of the town and back to the academy, and Raiden shoots the other two a quick text that they’re leaving early

you pout but follow along with them back to the academy

the next few weeks are torture; you tower over Lao and Raiden and grow much more friendly in your touches, patting them on the back or dragging them in for a hug

even Liu Kang has grown closer to you, leaving his hands on your waist for too long or staring at you longingly

but, it all comes to a head when there’s another trip planned to go to town, and none of them want to see women fawning over you

Lao and Raiden walk out to the training field early, sun barely rising over the horizon, expecting to find you already there and training to blow off some steam before they leave for the town

but, you’re nowhere to be found, and they immediately go to search for you

and when they find you, it’s a sight to behold

you’re in your bedroom, still in bed, hair strewn above you and hands gripping on Liu Kang’s hair for dear life as he bobs his head up and down your cock

you look gorgeous, chest covered in hickeys and nipples rubbed sore, and you open an eyelid and whimper, one hand releasing from Liu Kang’s hair to reach out for them

they hurry over, blood flowing from their heads to their dicks as they watch Liu Kang hum around your cock, causing you to arch your back off the bed

they approach you, and Liu Kang releases your cock from his mouth, a lewd sound as he detaches from your dick

the god moves you so that your sit in his lap, and it would be a comedic sight with the way you’re taller than Liu Kang

but, Lao and Raiden are too horny to really laugh and quickly pull their cocks out of their pants as you paw at their pants

Liu Kang slips a plug out of your ass and lubes his dick up before sliding inside of you, moaning as you clench around him

the god tells you that you’re so beautiful like this, bouncing on his dick, and you whine, taking Lao’s dick into your mouth first as you pump at Raiden’s with your hand

Lao groans at the feeling of your warm mouth around his cock, and you press your tongue into the slit of his tip

in your hand, you flick your wrist and pump Raiden from base to tip, and the champion can’t help but groan as pre-cum leaks from his tip

Liu Kang thrusts into you, which has you whining around Lao’s cock, and the vibrations have Lao gripping your hair tightly

you look absolutely debauched, eyes filled with tears as Lao pushes your head down until your nose hits his pelvis and skin covered in bite marks and hickeys

the three of them shower you with praise, telling you that you’re doing so good for them, taking three cocks for them, that you look pretty marked up for them

Liu Kang fists the base of your dick, preventing you from cumming, and you moan around Lao’s dick

the god angles his hips to batter into your prostate, and you keen loudly

Lao lets go of your hair, and you detach your mouth from his dick and go to lavish Raiden’s cock with your attention

you pump at Lao’s dick while you give kitten licks to Raiden’s dick, and the champion pets your hair as you leave licks and kisses along the shaft

but, he can’t contain himself, and he grabs onto your head and starts fucking into your face, admiring the way tears drip down your face

Liu Kang continues to bounce you on his cock, keeping a firm grip on base of your dick

you grow dizzy at the onslaught of pleasure and the lack of air as you gurgle around Raiden’s dick

finally, Raiden pulls you off and tells you to stick out your tongue, and he pumps his dick at the sight of your flushed face

Lao pumps at his dick furiously, wanting, needing to cum all over your face

the two of them need to show that you’re theirs, that no one else can have you, that you’re just for them

they cum on your face, and you close your eyes as their seed drips down your cheeks and lands on your tongue

you happily swallow what you can, and Raiden and Lao groan at the sight

they tuck away their dicks and reluctantly leave to go and grab some towels and water for you

Liu Kang doubles his efforts, picking you up until just the tip remains before slamming your hips onto his, and it has you moaning and begging for more

he whispers in your ears that you only belong to them, and you nod along dumbly

he pumps your cock with one calloused hand, spreading your pre-cum on the shaft for a better slide, and he presses the thumb into the slit of your cock

your back arches off of him as you cum, thighs twitching as your cum coats Liu Kang’s hand and the floor

Liu Kang grunts at the feeling of you tightening around him and cums inside of you, fucking you and him through your orgasms

eventually, he just lets you sit on his cock as you sniffle and hiccup, trying to come back down from your high

he coos at you and finally slips out of you but fills you up with the plug from earlier, keeping him cum inside of you as a reminder that you’re his

Raiden and Lao return with damp towels and water in hand and wipe you down and have you drink some water

Lao bites his lip at the sight of the plug snug inside of you

Liu Kang picks out a hanfu for you, one that exposes your neck and the hickeys on them

the god looks at Raiden and Lao and tells them to make their mark, and they eagerly suck matching hickeys onto the low part of your neck

it has you whining, but they just walk you out of the room and meet up with Johnny and Kenshi to go to the market

they go and buy some food for you while you look at some other stall, admiring the fabric, and a woman approaches you

but she sees the hickeys on your neck, and Raiden grins as the woman backs off

Liu Kang has a constant hand on the small of your back, and Lao shoots glares at woman who try to approach you

with their protectiveness and the way the plug shifts inside of you every time you move, it reminds you that you fully belong to the three of them

[sophie-hatter-jenkins]

Tattoo

Written for @jilymicrofics using August prompt no. 26

James and Lily react very differently to teenage Harry's new body art!

890 words, rated T (though I'm being very cautious there, it's probably really Gen)

Read below, or on AO3

“Harry James Potter!” Lily Potter stopped dead in the doorway to her seventeen year old son’s bedroom. “What the hell is that?”

Harry scrabbled into the t-shirt he’d just snagged from his wardrobe and spun around to face his mother. “What is what?” he asked, brows pinched in a convincing imitation of confusion.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Harry!” Lily replied sharply. “I know what I saw.”

Quick as a flash, Harry shifted gears. “Then why are you asking?”

Lily’s eyes narrowed. “If you don’t cut the attitude, we’re going to have a serious problem here.”

“Actually, the problem is that you didn’t knock before barging into my room,” Harry shrugged. “Perhaps we ought to discuss your lack of respect for my privacy?”

“That is NOT the point, Harry!” Lily struggled to keep her temper under control. “We need to talk about this.” 

“No, we don’t,” Harry told her, flatly. “I’m of age now. It’s none of your business.”

“I think you’ll find it’s very much my business while you live under my roof!”

“Really? What happened to ‘my body, my rules’?” countered Harry.

“Harry, that is enough!” she snapped back.

Unsurprisingly, the rising volume of their discussion drew James from his study. “What’s going on?” he enquired. 

“Your son,” she told him, “has got himself a tattoo!”

James’s eyes widened. “Have you really? What did you get? Where is it?” 

“James!” Lily admonished him, though she was silently cursing herself for not anticipating his response.

James’s hazel eyes radiated innocence. “What? I’m only showing a fatherly interest!” He almost managed not to smile as gestured towards Harry. “Well, come on then - show me!”

With a sly grin at his mother, Harry slipped the t-shirt off again and turned around, displaying an intricate line drawing of a dragon that twisted down his left shoulder blade. “It’s a Hungarian Horntail.”

“Oh Harry,” she sighed. “What on earth possessed you?”

Harry looked a bit sheepish. “Erm… Ginny said she thought it would look good.”

“Ginny said…” Lily paused as she tried to wrap her head around this new bombshell. “Harry, you went and got a tattoo because a girl told you to? Of all the idiotic, irresponsible…. James, help me out here!”

“I’m hardly in any position to criticise, am I?” laughed James, lifting his shirt to flash the tattoo that sprawled across his ribs - a bouquet of lilies entwined around their wedding date, just above Harry’s name and his date of birth.

“That’s different!” spluttered Lily. “That means something. You didn’t get it on a whim because a girl said so!”

“No,” he conceded. “But I got the first one on a whim because me and my mates got pissed one night and thought it would be a laugh, which is arguably worse.”

Harry’s eyes lit up, ever eager for stories of his father’s juvenile misbehaviour. “Really? You never told me that.”

“Yeah. The one on my arm,” James explained, referring to the words Mischief Managed that wrapped around his bicep, bordered by a trail of paw and hoof prints. “I was the same age as you are now. Me, Sirius, Remus and Peter all got the same one. Your Nanna hit the roof when she saw it.”

“I can understand why,” muttered Lily.

“I seem to remember you telling me it was sexy the first time you saw it.” James’s lips twitched with amusement and Lily felt her cheeks colour at the memory of exactly what had happened immediately after her then-boyfriend had showed her his new tattoo.

Harry, as sharp as ever, did not miss the double standard. “So you like Dad’s tattoos, but there’s something wrong with mine? You know how ridiculous that is, right?”

Lily was forced to concede that he had a point. “I’m sorry, darling,” she sighed. “It’s just that you’ll always be my baby boy, and I want to protect you. I hate to think of you doing something you’ll regret.”

“But I don’t regret it!” Harry replied, hotly. “How do you know that I ever will?”

Lily held up her hands, placating him. “I don’t. And I don’t think your father has ever regretted any of his.“ 

“Nope,” James confirmed. 

“Then what’s the problem?” Harry hauled his t-shirt back on, clearly frustrated. “I really love it, you know. The dragon was Ginny’s idea, but I’ve wanted a tattoo for ages. I didn’t get it on a whim.”

“Harry, I think you’re perfect just as you are,” she explained, “and the idea of you changing anything about yourself feels uncomfortable to me. But I know that you’re old enough to make your own choices, and despite the impression I just gave you, I do respect that.”

Harry shuffled his feet awkwardly. “Thanks, Mum.”

“For what it’s worth, I do think that it’s a beautiful drawing.” In lieu of an olive branch, Lily held out her arms, and her son obliged her with a hug. “So. What did Ginny think?”

Pink spots formed on Harry’s cheeks. He shoved his hand through his hair, and the familiarity of the gesture, so very like his father, made Lily’s heart swell. “She… um… she liked it.” 

James wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at his son. “Oh, I bet she did.”

Harry flushed an even deeper shade of pink. “Dad!”

Lily laughed. “I like that girl. She has good taste.”

[vodika-vibes]

Dogma AU ask you say? Ok hmmm… how about this! Dragon AU. Dogma is a dragon, who can shapeshifter into human form, and the local town offers a “human sacrifice to appease the monster”. But of course he’s not gonna have ANY of that nonsense! Also this is tooooootally not to make a pun of the game called “Dragon’s Dogma”

Hope Is A Thing With Feathers

Summary: Rumor has it that a massive dragon is living in the mountains near the village your parents dragged you to after you refused a marriage agreement to a man who would have made them wealthy. Rumor has it that the only way to keep the village safe is to sacrifice a woman to the dragon. You were the most recent sacrifice…and you couldn’t be happier about it.

Pairing: Clone Trooper Dogma x F!Reader

Word Count: 1434

Prompt: Dragon AU

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: You know, I've been pretty anxious for most of the day, but the moment I started writing Dogma the anxiety faded. Is Dogma my comfort character? Who have I become? Anyway, I hope you like it!

You stand at the bottom of a massive tree, your hands on your hips are you glare up at the hint of blue and silver peeking through the leaves. “Dogma! Get down from there!”

There’s silence for a moment, and your scowl deepens.

“Stop acting like a child. You are fully grown and this isn’t cute.”

A large snout peeks out from between the leaves and huffs smoke in your direction. 

You sneeze and wave the smoke away from your face, “If you think that my inability to climb trees will keep me from coming up there after you, you’re wrong.” You warn.

The dragon retreats between the leaves.

“Fine. I warned you.” You call up to him. 

There’s no noise at all, save for the sound of wind through the leaves, and you sigh.

Honestly, he’s acting like a child. All you did was ask if he wanted fish for dinner and now he’s sulking like a toddler.

You kick your shoes off and jump so you’re able to grab the lowest branch. Carefully you walk yourself up so you’re able to swing your leg over the branch. You scan the next level of branches, and then stand on your current branch and reach for the next one that you can reach.

Dogma is watching you. 

You know he’s watching you without having to check.

You can almost feel his anxiety as you start scrabbling up the tree for the next branch. It’s not graceful or elegantly done, but you’ve never actually climbed a tree before.

“I can’t believe—oof,” You slip and almost fall, but manage to catch yourself, “—believe that you’re making me come up here to get you.” You grouse under your breath. 

I’m not making you do anything, ad’ika. Dogma’s voice echoes through your mind and you tilt your head in his direction.

“You’re acting like a child.”

I do not like fish.

“And that’s an excuse to throw a tantrum like a toddler? Woah!” You have to grab at the tree to keep from falling.

You’re going to get hurt.

“You’ll catch me if I fall.”

How am I to do that when you’re below me?

“That sounds like a you problem, Dogma.”

The dragon releases an explosive sigh, I think I preferred it when you were afraid of me.

“Nah, you didn’t.”

You can’t allow me a single delusion?

“It’s not healthy.” You retort with a grin.

You can almost hear him rolling his eyes, but then you’re distracted when the tree starts shaking and you end up having to sit on the branch you were standing on to not lose your balance.

Dogma climbs down the tree head-first, though he pauses when he reaches your level so you’re able to wrap your arms around his neck. He’s large enough that you can barely reach around him, but you’re secure enough that he’s comfortable moving with you latched to him like a particularly stubborn burr.

You think he’s going to set you on the ground as soon as he’s close enough to let you down, but you’re also not surprised when he doesn’t. Instead, he walks a little ways away from the tree and starts to shift.

Your feet lightly touch the ground and strong arms slide around your waist, and you find yourself looking into the handsome, human, face of Dogma. “Found you~” You tease.

“Oh, was I lost?” He teases in return, as he lightly bumps his forehead against yours.

You just shrug, a quiet laugh falling from you, “Are you feeling more like you now that you’re sulk is over?”

He bumps his nose against yours, “No fish.”

“Alright, alright. No fish.” You grin at him, “But that means, Dogma, that you need to go hunting.”

He sighs, “I know, I know.” Dogma pulls back slightly and presses his face against your neck, inhaling deeply. “You smell like me.”

“Is that a problem?” You ask with a grin.

“Not at all, love that you smell like me.” He pulls back and presses a light kiss against the tip of your nose, “Ready to go home?”

“Ready.” You reply, releasing him to give him so space to turn back into his true form. 

His dragon form is massive, large enough to carry you at least, with dark blue and silver scales, plus the black scales on his face that take the form of his tattoo when he’s in his human form.

In your opinion, he’s gorgeous in both forms.

Don’t forget your shoes. Dogma says as he nudges you with his snout.

You giggle and wrap your arms around his head, “I hate wearing them.”

You’ll regret it come winter.

“You’re right.” You admit with a sigh, releasing him long enough to grab your shoes from the base of the tree. A pointed look from Dogma as you pull them on, rather than just carrying them. “There, happy?”

Thrilled. Dogma replies as he lowers his head to allow you on his back. Make sure you hold on.

“I always do.” You wrap your arms around him tightly as he takes to the sky. The first time Dogma took you to the tree where he and his brothers tend to gather, you feared that it would be a bumpy ride.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t. When he flies, it’s very smooth. Smooth enough that you only have to hold on tight for take-off and landing. So, as soon as he’s soaring through the clouds, you loosen your grip and absently stroke his neck. 

That is not holding on, ad’ika.

“I know, but I’m not worried about falling.” You say lightly. For a long moment, you’re quiet, “Hey, Dogma?”

His head turns slightly so he’s able to look at you, What’s wrong?

“Nothing. I’m just curious about something.”

Go ahead.

“What happens on the next Winter Solstice?”

What do you mean?

“Just…when they make the next sacrifice to you.” You ask as you trace his scales, “What…what happens to me?”

Dogma is quiet for a long time, Hold on, ad’ika. We’re landing.

“Already?” You ask, though you do as he requests and wraps your arms tightly around him. He banks sharply and lowers to land next to a massive lake, and then he lowers his head to let you off. 

Slowly, you slide off his back and move so you’re standing in front of him, “Is something wrong?”

Dogma’s transformation is a lot quicker than last time, and you’re so surprised that you take half a step back as he steps into your space and brings his hands to press against your cheeks.

“Dogma?”

“Do you think that I’m going to make you leave when the winter solstice comes?” He asks, his eyes still have flecks of gold in them from how rapidly he shifted.

“I…well…” You avert your gaze, though he’s still holding your face pretty tightly. 

“Oh, ad’ika.” Slowly he presses his forehead against yours, “How long has this worry been on your mind?”

You shrug, “Not long. A couple of months.”

“That’s too long for you to be worried about this, ad’ika.” Dogma says, “So, this is me telling you, right here, right now. I’m not asking you to go anywhere at the next Winter Solstice. Or the one after.”

Your gaze drifts back to meet his, “Really?”

“Really.”

“Even though I’m…me?”

“I don’t want you to be anyone else.” Dogma replies, “You’re perfect, I’ll keep you forever, if you let me.”

“But I’m human.”

“You let me worry about that.” He leans in and gently presses his lips against yours in a soft and gentle kiss. And then another one, and another one.

“You didn’t answer my question,” You murmur against his lips, “What happens on the next Winter Solstice?”

His hand slides from your cheek to press against the back of your neck, “Ad’ika, the next Winter Solstice belongs to the Wolfpack.” Dogma murmurs against your lips, “So far as we’re concerned? Nothing happens the next winter solstice.”

You gasp as his lips crash against yours, and he walks you backward until your back bumps against a tree. “Dogma—”

You feel him smile against your lips, “I should get you back home.” He murmurs, “But how about a short break.”

“A break?”

A sly smile crosses his face as his hand slides to the laces of your dress, “Maybe not so short.”

Your face heats as he tugs the laces loose, “I suppose a break wouldn’t be too bad.” You reply with a small smirk of your own. Your hands move to cup his face, and your smirk turns into a genuine smile, “Dogma?”

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

And he freezes for a moment, his eyes wide and astonished, and then he grins and crashes his lips against yours once more. “I love you too.”

[tgmsunmontue]

Tracing poetry with your lips - 5/? - Hangster

One juvenile kissing game and two juvenile idiots both convinced they can win the game. (Will be Explicit). Idea from @iprefervillains

ONE TWO THREE FOUR

PART FIVE

                He run his fingers feather light over the back of Bradshaw’s hand where it rests over the stick shift as he drives, mindlessly tracing patterns, simply wanting to maintain skin contact. He’s been too busy watching Bradley’s hand to pay attention to where he’s driving to, but it’s further away than his accommodation on base but he feels a little flare of something because he’s fairly certain Bradley is taking him home. That hasn’t happened before, all their hookups prior to tonight have been either in Jake’s bed, or in places that they probably shouldn’t have been messing around in.

                Bradley throws the Bronco into park outside a little bungalow, sandwiched between much larger and newer houses. It’s well maintained though, has a very low maintenance garden from what he can see in the moonlight.

                “This is, uh, home…”

                “Gonna invite me in Bradshaw? Bradley,” he amends, quiet. It’s the right thing to say, because Bradley is leaning over and kissing him, fingers fumbling on his seatbelt and Jake follows suit. Undoes his own seatbelt and turns toward him, presses into the kiss, although they’re going to have to separate to get out and get inside.

                “Yeah. Come on…”

                He’s a little surprised when Bradshaw waits for him, laces their fingers together and walks with him to the front door. He half expects there to be an old-school iron key, instead there’s a pin code panel on the front door and it’s unlocking automatically and it’s far more high tech than he was expecting from the outside of the house. Then he’s getting pushed against the door before it’s even all the way closed, Bradley’s hands pulling his shirt from where it’s tucked in and Jake is familiar with this at least.

                He toes off his shoes, kicks them to the side, his fingers working on Bradley’s belt buckle so he can shove his pants down. None of his shirts are tucked in, giving Jake easy access and he leans down to nip at one of his nipples through his white singlet, his short-sleeve button-down already slipping off his shoulders and Jake sucks at the nipple through the thin fabric as he shrugs it off impatiently.

                “Jake… come on. Bed.”

                “You’re going to have to show me the way…”

                “Come on…”

                He doesn’t have time to look around, but again he gets an impression of more modern than he would have thought, judging from the outside. He’s hopeful he’ll be spending plenty of time here and can find out exactly what the deal is. Bradley is pushing a door open, pushing Jake inside and yeah, this is more what he was expecting. This room is warmer, screams that it belongs to Bradley and Jake feels so much more at ease that this is indeed home.

                One of the upsides of already having had sex numerous times is he knows Bradley’s body better than he would otherwise, and he turns around, walking backwards toward the bed. His pants are near the front door somewhere, along with Bradley’s and their shirts. He quirks an eyebrow, wonders what Bradley is thinking now, his expression suddenly unreadable and he’s not following Jake toward the bed so he stops.

                Waits.

                “You really want to date me? You weren’t just saying that to…”

                “To what? Trick you into giving in? Bradshaw… Bradley…” the name spoken aloud still feels sweet in his mouth. “Bradley,” he says again, “I was not just saying that.”

                That seems to unfreeze him and he’s stepping forward, two long strides eating up the space between them and they’re stumbling together toward the bed, fingers scrabbling at underwear, palms pressing over cocks, lips and tongues tracing paths over exposed skin and breath becoming increasingly faster. He presses Bradley down, straddles his thighs and braces his hands on either side of Bradley’s head, grinds their cocks together.

                “Jake…”

                “God Bradley… Tell me what you want. Anything. I’ll give it to you…”

                “Please.”

                “Tell me…” Jake murmurs, licking and nibbling up his neck.

                “Fuck me… please.”

                “Of course… would be my pleasure…” Jake says, because that’s something he knows how to do, has done more than once now and has enjoyed every single time.

SIX

[witchpassing]

catching strays [4/final]

[prev] [first]

content notes: undernegotiated BDSM, use of transphobic slurs.

My side of it - that’s, I mean to say, the handler side - it’s mostly just operant conditioning. All the really complex stuff happens on the neurochemical level; I was never trained in the processes there, didn’t have the right PhD to get my head around it. Didn’t need to know what was happening in the black box to, uh. Pull the levers. Look, it’s all in the documents, alright? I even got you the formula for the cocktail.

You know what operant conditioning is, right? Haven’t shot all your behaviorologists yet? Ha, ha. Just… just a little joke. 

Thud of meat on meat echoes off the cigarette-stained ceiling. Rook lists to her right, cherry-red drool spilling from a fucked lip; “Position six,” Katya spits, hammering the keyphrase back in, and the pilot’s stance corrects itself with a visceral hindbrain twitch. Down on her knees, fingers interlaced at the base of her skull. Through the mess, she manages to get out: 

“Front of your hand.”

“I don’t think I asked you a question, pilot,” Katya says, military-issue ice. Rook works her sore jaw, keeps talking; head down, eyes low, like she’s not fucking baiting her.

“Palm’s softer than, than the back,” she says. “Less bone. Need to give me time to, clench my jaw, too. ‘r it might get dislocated.” Grins up at Katya out of the corner of her eye. “Then what’m I gonna tell the vet?”

Again. Of course. Harder this time, hard enough to put Rook into a facedown sprawl. Katya watches her try to get up, watches the tendons work beneath her skin, fingers dug into ratty carpet, dark tangle of hair sweat-stuck to cheekbone. Heave of her scapulae, sweat beading on the blades like dew. 

She visualises the point of contact, the way the bruise, when it forms in a couple of hours, will print the shape of her knuckles upon Rook’s face. Casually, as if it means nothing at all, Katya leans down and -

“Position six, fuckup.” 

- spits on her. 

I told you already, there wasn’t - there wasn’t time, you understand? The writing was on the wall - your writing, on your wall - I had to take what I could and get out. They were burning shit, shredding it, whatever they thought would keep the vultures off their backs. 

I had a file. Everyone had a file. It wasn’t special, because I wasn’t special. There’s nothing in there you need to hear. If it ever surfaces, I promise - it’ll bore you to tears. 

Rook’s nails scrabbling at her arm, keratin and polycarbonate, marking tallies in the skin. She hisses, adjusts her footing in the mattress, winds the chokehold tighter. Rook is taller, heavier, younger, fitter, and none of it is really helping because she’s not fighting back the way a person would; she can’t, Katya is Handler and you don’t fucking fight Handler. This, pulsing livid from the brainstem, is the blindfire of an animal brain that thinks it’s being killed and doesn’t know what to do about it. 

“Look at you,” Katya murmurs into her ear; Rook whines back, base and guttural, shudder and twitch. “Pissing away the People’s money for a cheap little adrenaline high.” Framing it like that feels good in her gut. The momentary satisfaction of breaking something flimsy and pathetic, stretched over several hours like taffy. Spit on Rook’s bare shoulder. Spit in the great red eye of Revolution. Another hitch tighter. “How much therapy is it gonna take to paint this over? How many weeks are we tacking onto your recovery timeline here - don’t struggle, you deserve this, take it or tap out you weak little shit--” 

Rook - eyes rolled half-back in her head, so hard that it’s a wonder the blood choke hasn’t put her under yet - whimpers out something that might be sorry sorry sorry Ma’am sorry, stops kicking, doesn’t tap. 

No, I never… nothing like that. Jesus, what the hell do you take me for? I came in, didn’t I? I risked my goddamn neck for you, I got you everything I could, that doesn’t get me some kind of - benefit of the doubt? Yeah, I was in the program, and yes, that meant doing some pretty sick shit to keep my head above water, but there is a critical distiction here that I think you’re not getting your head around: some of us were doing it for fun, because we liked it, and I was never one of those. 

“--And you already know what you’re going to tell the vet, because it’ll be the same - ghn - thing you always tell them, Rook; you went to a bar, you found the worst person there, and you convinced them to beat you until you felt a little better about your sad fucking life. You don’t even have to lie, Rook, because that’s exactly what you’re doing, exactly what you’ve done before a dozen fucking times, I know you have, you’re hooked on this shit-”

“Handler-” 

“Shut the fuck up, position five, I’m talking.” 

“S-sorry, sorry, sorry-” 

“You don’t get into fights because you’re a Junta vet, or a tranny who can’t pass, or any other kind of broken wing shit - don’t you know, Rook? This is their clean bright world, and they’re making it better every day! Bad things just don’t happen any more, not even to people like you. No, you get beaten ‘cause you want it, because you’re a bad dog and you need to be kicked.” 

“Hgk--” 

“What, you got something to say? You got something to say for yourself, you pathetic fucking--” 

-

Doe. Her name was Doe. I had her three years, and I never laid a hand on her. 

-

Spatter of sleet on dirty window; dim light bathing the ceiling, slanting sodium-yellow into a corner, sloping away. Katya locks her jaw against something unformed and pathetic, smears her cramping fingers against her thigh. Glistening slug-trail of her own cooling slick. It’s not working, it’s not enough. 

Not even close. 

Rook is curled at the foot of her bed, hazed out on recauterised conditioning and oxygen deprivation and what might be the first fresh bloom of a concussion. Katya can’t see her, but she can hear her breathing, ragged and slow through a bruise-blued throat. Now and then, a hypnic jerk, a yip. Chasing cars in her shallow sleep.

Katya knows that if she calls Rook to her, if she uses her for this, she’ll run out of stories to tell herself. For once, she understands where she stands in the moment, instead of in hindsight: just shy of the line, just this side of the event horizon. There will be no more plausible deniability, no matter what she tries to say. 

But the room is dark- 

and the door is locked- 

and nobody will ever know. 

Katya clicks her tongue, tchk-chk. Lets her head roll back, her eyes flutter shut. At the foot of her bed, Rook wakes.

“Here, girl.” 

She feels the mattress shift as Rook levers herself up. Hot breath between her parting thighs, a squirm of electricity in the base of her spine. An ache like permafrost cracking, and fuck she’s needed this, needed it for years, not just the desperate conciliatory tell-me-I’m-good-again head but every pathological detail, every thud of her hand against sorry, begging meat, every death-hissed trigger, the way ma’am sounds on a broken girl’s tongue. Nothing else has ever come close to being enough.

Even now, it should be disgusting how much blood there is in Rook’s spit, but she doesn’t care. If the pilot is carrying something, Katya has been sick with it for years. 

So she fists her grip in her hair, shoves her down, and twists her ankles tight around her head, as if anything left in that burned-out skull would let her stop before her Handler comes. 

-

No, I don’t know what her real name was. 

I get… terms, right? I get to negotiate? I gave you a lot, I should…

I don’t want to talk about this any more. 

-

Crouching half-clothed in her tiny bathroom, rinsing a spiral of runoff off Rook’s nakedness. Not aftercare, exactly; she’s never given it before, and she’s not starting now. Just… didn’t really sound like a good idea to kick Rook out while she still looked like a fresh traffic accident. Medical kit under the kitchen counter. Work to be done, to keep the vultures off her back. 

“All that about giving you what you deserve,” she says, over the hush of the shower. “It was bullshit.” 

Rook lifts her head, good eye pushing open against the bruise. “Ma’am?” 

“Telling myself I was punishing you. Teaching you a lesson.” Her fingers itch for a cigarette. “You had something you wanted from me, and you figured out the right sequence of words to take it.” 

The pilot murmurs, almost too quiet for her to hear: 

“You alright down there, girl? Looks like you got a real working over.”

“Oh, fuck you, asshole. Maybe you do deserve me.”

Rook laughs.

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Trans Pride (Doctor Who One Shot)

Tenth Doctor x Masc!Reader (FTM specific) / requests are open

Summary: You can't believe the Doctor didn't know you were trans.

CW: not really any cws but reader has had top surgery and the Doctor is an oblivious idiot (and we love him anyway)

Doctor Who Tag List: @nyxiethesimp @quickslvxrr @midnight--raine @blueberry-sunshines (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

It’s not something you’d ever had to bring up with the Doctor. You just were who you were. You had to admit even to yourself that you passed well on the average day-to-day. You had your less confident days, of course, but deep down you knew even on those days that unless someone was really, really looking- or already knew, most people wouldn’t be able to tell that you were assigned female at birth. Which was how you liked it, anyway. Given you weren’t female. 

As far as you knew the Doctor was aware, but it wasn’t something you needed to clarify either. It wasn’t something you went around announcing just like a cis-gendered person didn’t wander around announcing their gender either. 

And so when you’d needed to change your shirt after your shower, but realised you’d left it hanging over the bannister in the console room, you hadn’t thought a single thing of it.

With a sigh, you haphazardly dried off and wrapped the towel around yourself. Opening the bathroom door, you peeked both ways down the hallway to check for the Doctor before making your way in a little bit of a rush to find your missing tee. 

You entered the console area and clicked your tongue when you saw the offending article sitting over the handrail just where you thought it would be. How you managed to leave it out in the open when you went to shower was beyond you. 

“There you are,” you hear a very familiar voice. The Doctor’s face pops up from around the centre console, glasses pushed back against his face and expression screwed up as he attempts to get his eyes to focus on you from that far away. His frames were mostly for close-distance viewing. 

You shuffled closer and whipped the tee off the railing. 

“Here I am,” you replied, placing a hand on the knot of the towel. The Doctor pushes his glasses onto his hair like sunglasses and blinks to clear his vision. 

“Wondered where you’d got off too. Left your shirt.” 

You wave the shirt softly in your hand. 

“Thanks, Doc.” 

The Doctor’s brows draw down for a half second before straightening out again, and you look down at yourself, wondering just what it is he’s looking at- oh. Oh, it’s your top scars. You look up at him and cock your head to the side in confusion. 

“Uh, did- sorry, I need to ask you a question,” you say, not wanting to make assumptions.

You all but hop up the stairs so you can stand in front of him. The Doctor stops what he’s doing on the monitor immediately to give you his full attention. 

“Shoot-” he says before cutting himself off. “Well, ask away.” 

“Did you not know I was trans?” Your lips trip up into a grin by the end, and you can feel a laugh bubbling up in your throat. “Like, did you- did you not know?” 

The Doctor’s mouth opens and closes for a second, and you marvel at the fact that he is speechless right now. The Doctor, the man who always knows exactly what to say- speechless! This was absolutely priceless. 

“I may not have known, no,” he says after another couple of seconds scrabbling for words. “I mean, you pass exceedingly well. I had no idea. None! Brilliant, isn’t that brilliant?!” 

You puff out a laugh and nod, shoving at his shoulder playfully. 

“I’d say so, yeah,” you agreed, letting the Doctor’s infectious grin pass over to you as well. 

The Doctor put his hands on his hips, shaking his head with that unshakable grin.

“Blimey,” the Doctor breathed back. “Think I need a minute to soak that all in. Had no idea, me. Well, handsome- where would you like to go now?” The Doctor blinked and looked down at your towel. “You know, once you’re dressed and everything.” 

You hummed thoughtfully. 

“What’s Pride like in the twenty-eight-hundreds?” 

The Doctor lets out an excited and elongated ‘ohhhhhhh’ as he starts fiddling with the controls. 

“You’re gonna love it. It’s brilliant!” 

You don’t think there’s any doubt about that.

[hotchnerreidfics]

terffied , aaron hotchner

aaron hotchner x fem!reader <Reader gets scared >.

( word-count ) 1.5k

Hotch has been talking about getting jack all week , Jack is in Atlanta, Georgia with his mother, Hotch gets custody of Jack he leaves to get him this evening..

Waring none really just blurb in current events reader gets scared.

A/n .. I would love feedback an any likes reblogs are really appreciated it thank you

This is my official fic for Aaron Hotchner , This hits home pretty close right now they say write with your heart write about current events in your life I understand if this doesn’t get the attention I’m hoping for with love likes epic , but I’m stepping out of my comfort zone I love Hotch with all my heart an wanted someone to feel this . I don’t know anyways here we go .. so nervous right now

Thanks for allowing me to step out of my comfort zone .

💌My first official Hotch fic 💌

A/n I’m scared ..

ೃ⁀➷🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿 ೃ⁀➷

“A Tropical Storm Warning as issued for the following states , Atlanta Georgia Florida Tennessee” , the list kept going , Hotch told the team he was gonna head on to get Jack , You were at home Hotch stops by to see you on his way out to get Jack , He calls you Hey I’m on my way over , Everything ok you say ya he says he’s voice a Little shaken , A knock at the door it’s Hotch , You open the door , You let him in . I know you say you’re heading out to get Jack , You run up to Hotch , He opens he’s arms to give you a hug , you too were not dating yet but he needed to see you before he left , he felt at ease with you . Jack will be happy to see you you tell Hotch as he turns to walk out the door , Hurry back you say safety we need you both home safe you say , I know Hotch says .

ೃ⁀➷🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿⁀➷

Hotch takes the Jet to get , Jack . He should be up in the air by now you thinking.

You send Hotch a message.

💬.

It’s 2:35pm

“Let me know when you safely land .

You send the message.

ೃ⁀➷🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿 ೃ⁀➷

You hear Except Heavy high Dangerous winds , Heavy Rain In the next few hours The news , List of the states again , You mute the tv , Garcia calls You answer Hey you say softly, Hey love she says Everything ok you ask her .? As far as I know , I was Just checking on you , Were at the BAU if you wanna come down , Come to work on my day off you say softly ya she says it beats waiting to hear from Hotch all by your self she applies, Good point you say On my way you say ..

ೃ⁀➷🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿⁀➷

You check your phone for any messages no messages You sigh, you grab your stuff to head out to work , Garica had a good point you said cause not knowing if Hotch is ok is driving you nuts .

You head to the BAU , you stop to get Everyone’s favorite coffee on the way and you get some Croissants in donuts for everyone. Let’s face when you worry you stress eat .you have all kinds of emotions right now .

ೃ⁀➷🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿 ೃ⁀➷

You get up to the FBI building, You head in you got everything in your hands , You get to the lobby in get to the elevator press the six floor to the BAU room , everyone is around the table , playing scrabble , Hey Love Em says hey I brought coffee it’s got each of your names on it , bright Croissants in donuts oh donuts Spencer says he grabs he’s coffee an a donut thanks bestie he says you giggle no problem Spence . You’re a life saver Garica said .

What we playing scrabble JJ says you wanna join , I’ll set this one out you say . Any word on Hotch Em says not yet you say Derek said he should be getting close since he took the jet . That’s what I thought you said , I told him to message me when he made it safely I’m nervous , What if the power lines got knocked down were he landed an he couldn’t let us know he made it ..

It’s 4pm

💬 message to Hotch .

Hey Just checking in , Did you make it in okay?

Derek hey baby girl I’m sure your man is fine , He smiles .

You surge Derek .

ೃ⁀➷🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿 ೃ⁀➷

It’s 5pm

You guys are watching the news the jet shoulda made it by now Derek and you say .. A Tornado Warning has been issued for the following, you say damn it they can’t catch a break ..

ೃ⁀➷🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿 ೃ⁀➷

📞:Hotch …

Your 📞 : Ringsits Hotch

📞: Hey you say softly, it’s good to hear your voice he said , Are you ok you ask him , Ya were fine .. I miss you Hotch you say miss you to we’ll be home soon , it’s crazy over here the phone cuts in and out you lose the connection . “Damn it you say “. Hey at least we know he’s ok Spencer says .

ೃ⁀➷🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿 ೃ⁀➷

You in the team decided to camp out at the office , until Hotch made it home safe . “Derek checks in on you , How you holding up , it’s almost 8pm you guys hadn’t heard anything from Hotch yet since at 5pm , “You should get some sleep Derek points out no You Say raising your head sleeps overrated I’ll sleep when he’s home .

You really care about him don’t you “Em asks you , yes don’t you yes we all do , but you me ,what you say . I think it’s deeper connection with you towards him , you’re into him “Em says , maybe you say but he’s not gonna see me that way , we just become very close you say , I’m not judging Em Says I was just curious I guess .

Garica they would be cute together , I agree Em in Spencer says I think they might be already together without realizing it Derek says . No we’re not you say , JJ come on guys stop teasing her .

10pm

You messaged Hotch

💬: Hotch

Hey , I hope you made it to Jack .

Just thinking about you, please stay safe . The team is at the office.

You in the team had passed out ..

Hotch comes in with Jack , he lays Jack on the couch ,

He heads over to your desk , Rubs your back, Hey Love I made it back home , Hotch you say softly where’s Jack over there on the couch asleep, you smile , you get up to give Hotch a big Hug … I’m so glad you made it home safely, He goes I told you I would ..

ೃ⁀➷🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿 ೃ⁀➷

I hope you enjoy this ..

@catssluvr

Love you guys

K 💌

[serickswrites]

You Deserved It

Warnings: captivity, torture, restraints, forced to watch, drowning, cpr, mcd, escape

"Look, we made it, Whumpee," Caretaker said breathlessly as they reached the edge of Whumper's property. They clutched Whumpee tightly, fearful of dropping Whumpee or leaving them behind. "We made it to freedom. Just like you said."

Caretaker stopped walking, the weight of everything they had endured finally hitting them. "I'm free," they whispered as they stared down into Whumpee's upturned face. "You deserved to be free, too," Caretaker said as the overwhelming sadness they had started to feel back in the compound began to take over.

"You deserved it, too," Caretaker repeated as a lone tear dropped onto Whumpee's face.

Whumpee's eyes were half-lidded, their gaze glassy and empty. Their blue tinged lips were parted slightly. And they were so terribly, terribly still.

Caretaker dropped to their knees as they began to sob. They hadn't been fast enough. Hadn't done enough. Hadn't acted soon enough. They sat back against a tree, Whumpee's limp body cradled in their lap.

Whumper had kidnapped Whumpee and Caretaker a day ago. They had left Caretaker and Whumpee together the first several hours, handcuffing both of them together and leaving them in the dark.

"Maybe we can figure a way out before they even come back," Whumpee had whispered as they leaned their head on Caretaker's shoulder.

"I think it's going to take some time to figure our way out of this. We're handcuffed together in the dark somewhere we don't even know."

"We'll make it to freedom, you'll see."

Whumpee had been so confident. They were confident that they would escape with Caretaker. They were confident that they would be free before Whumper can back. And they were confident that Whumper wouldn't hurt them that bad.

Whumpee was wrong.

Whumper had returned after several hours, flicking the lights on, revealing the contents of the room. Caretaker's mouth had gone dry when they saw the rusty bathtub in the corner of the room. Whumper silently filled the tub as Caretaker's heart pounded.

"Which one of you should I start with, eh?" Whumper asked quietly.

Whumpee glared up at Whumper. "You're asking us to volunteer to be tortured? I don't fucking think so."

And that was all it took. Caretaker screamed and tried to grab onto Whumpee as Whumper uncuffed Whumpee from them. They scrambled after Whumper as they dragged Whumpee to the tub.

"None of that," Whumper snarled as they kicked out at Caretaker.

Caretaker flinched back but didn't try anything. They sat there helplessly trying to figure a way out of the cuffs. They were loose. But Whumper would see. They had to wait until Whumper left them alone again.

Whumper plunged Whumpee's head in and out of the tub several times. Whumpee kicked and fought each time. Whumper didn't stop. They shoved Whumpee's head below the surface once more. Whumpee's frantic scrabbling grew weaker and weaker until they stilled.

"Whumpee!" Caretaker called out as they watched Whumpee's arms fall limply to their side.

"That's enough for today," Whumper said as they hauled Whumpee out quickly. "I'll be back later."

And they left the room, leaving Caretaker and Whumpee alone. Whumpee lay on their side, their back to Caretaker. Water streamed from their body, staining the wood around them. "Hold on, Whumpee. I'm almost out. Hold on."

Caretaker slipped the cuffs quickly and stumbled forward. "Whumpee?"

But Whumpee didn't reply.

Caretaker shook Whumpee's shoulder. "Come on, Whumpee. We don't know how long they'll be gone. We have to go," Caretaker said urgently.

Whumpee's body rolled with the motion, but Whumpee didn't respond. "Whumpee?" Caretaker said as they rolled Whumpee onto their back. "OH GOD NO!" Caretaker screamed as they stared down into Whumpee's empty eyes.

"Please, Whumpee! Please!" Caretaker said as they started compressions. "Please don't leave me. We're getting out of here. Please. Come on."

Caretaker didn't know how long they tried to revive Whumpee. They didn't know how long they pounded on Whumpee's chest. How long they begged Whumpee to take a breath. How long they pleaded with the universe to bring Whumpee back.

They just knew that eventually they stopped because Whumpee was dead. That there was nothing they could do to save Whumpee. That the only thing they could do was save themself and get Whumpee's body to safety.

"You deserved it, too," Caretaker repeated as they stroked Whumpee's still wet hair. "Oh, Whumpee. God. Please. No. Please. Whumpee, please." Caretaker knew that they would never recover from this. Would never recover from watching Whumpee drown. Would never recover from failing to revive Whumpee. And that they would never recover from staring into Whumpee's lifeless eyes. And as Caretaker stared down into the face they loved above all others, the realized they deserved it.

[hemipenal-system]

Bit of a hard vore question... pack animals hunting you down to fight over you and tear you apart, single large animal that can swallow you whole, or tiny creature that burrows inside you to eat you from the inside out?

absolutely all, just different scenarios! cut here bc this one is massive

Pack Hunters

-werewolves chasing me down through the woods, waiting for me to trip over something. when i fall, they’re on me immediately, tearing at my limbs first, slowly, sadistically tearing me apart one section at a time, fucking my body before devouring it.

-y’all ever heard of the Mares of Diomedes? something like that with unicorns or their demonic equivalent. walking through the stables not realizing they eat meat, idly scratching at them as i walk. stopping when one seems a bit too interested in my skin, its snuffling and mouthing at my hands becoming quick bites from sharp teeth hidden by thick lips. i go to step away and there’s another behind me. they’re all out of their stalls.

-walking through a hive of tiny dragons. stopping as one perches on my shoulder. shooing it off me. another one lands on my jacket, scrabbling up me to rest on my head. suddenly finding three or four on me. one clambers up to my face, wing-claws grabbing my ears as it sniffs me eagerly before dipping in and taking my nose in its mouth, biting hard and shaking its head back and forth until it tears off. the second the smell of blood is in the air, the entire hive drops onto me. i can run for the entrance, but there are thousands of them in this cave, and each one only needs about a finger’s worth of meat but i can only feed so many mouths…

Swallowed Whole

-dragon pinning me under its claws, licking me all over and drenching me with saliva before pulling me into its mouth, squeezing me in its tongue before swallowing me and holding me in its muscular crop, the wet walls sticking on to my face.

-basically the same as above but with a gryphon

-some manner of creature finding me in the harsh winter trying to start a fire, soaked and freezing to death, and well-meaningly swallowing me to keep me warm. it explains none of this to me, of course.

-playing hide and seek and hiding in a massive dusty chest. trying to get out after and it’s locked. realizing it’s a mimic when a long, wet tongue runs up one of my thighs.

-a naga not much bigger than me coiling me up, squeezing me until i can’t resist, and eating me slowly, muscular throat contracting again and again around me as it tries to pull in a prey animal just a bit too large

-me being really small and eaten by basically any small, harmless animal. rodents, rabbits, rat snakes, mustelids. you name it.

-actually quite a few dinosaurs satisfy the one about the dragon/gryphon above too

-specifically large carnivorous birds as preds. a hawk pinning me under her claws like a mouse, teasingly asking me why i’m not trying to run. the reason is because i know i wouldn’t be able to get anywhere even if i tried. her claws tighten around me before she grabs my legs in her beak, spreading her wings out and mantling me as she drags me into her mouth

Eaten Alive

this one has almost nothing but i do occasionally enjoy the idea of some kind of alien insect thing grabbing me and pulling me into a dark alleyway, slipping a slender ovipositor into me and filling me with hundreds of tiny eggs. then i just have to go about my life. when they hatch they all start eating each other until the biggest and strongest is sitting in my guts, and i can feel them all writhing around as that happens. it lives off my food for a while, but when it gets bigger that’s not enough and it starts taking small bites of me. it never kills me, but when it gets big enough to survive outside of its host it climbs up, slowly, methodically, clawed limbs hooking into me as it pulls itself up before climbing out of my throat and scurrying off into the darkness

[zmwrites]

Writemas 2024: Day 9

Thank you to @agirlandherquill for the prompts and for hosting!! I'm a bit behind but I am determined to catch up somehow.

WIP: Vessel WIP

Prompt(s): “I will take no more from you, consider this my mercy.”+ A church.

Words: 645

Notes: I'm not thrilled with this piece, but I don't want to put in the effort to massage it bc it's just something small for the event. Think of it as a first draft and enjoy anyways!

“Where is my wife?!” Rhaeus thundered, his voice shaking the stones of the church. 

Prima Phyrra fell to her knees. “Please, Your Holiness, have mercy. Sel Phyrra has been misbehaving and snuck out last night. I don’t know where she’s taken your wife.”

“You have one job, Prima, and that is to not lose the Vessel.” The sun god loomed over her, seeming to grow even taller as she shrunk before him. “Phyrra is in a delicate condition and needs peace, and rest. She cannot be taken galavanting about the world inside of some child!”

“I was never lost,” Fenna said from her spot in the shadows of the threshold. No matter how poorly Prima Phyrra treated her, she didn’t deserve to face the wrath of a god for something that wasn’t her fault. “I was exactly where I wanted to be.”

Rhaeus spun on her, face contorted with rage. “And where was that, child?”

“It’s none of your business. And I’m hardly a child; I’ve witnessed more than a hundred years of history, most of it from within this cage,” she said. She stepped into the room but didn’t get any closer.

“This is no cage,” Prima Phyrra protested pitifully from the floor.

“When did you grow a spine, little Sel?” Rhaeus asked. He stalked towards her, Prima Phyrra apparently forgotten.

“I’ve always had a spine. I’ve just never had a reason to stand up to any of you before.”

“What changed?”

The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. “I realized how much of a dick you are.”

She slammed into the wall, her head bouncing painfully against the stone, and she scrabbled at Rhaeus’ fingers where they wrapped around her throat.

“I am a god and you will address me with the veneration I deserve,” he snarled.

The toes of her boots barely touched the floor. She couldn’t breathe. Black dots swam in front of her eyes, slowly covering the coldness of his face, and a low ringing filled her ears. She wanted to laugh: how many people could say they’d been killed by a god?

“Put her down, Rhaeus.”

His head snapped towards the pulpit. “Phyrra?”

She dropped to the ground, gasping for air. She twisted to follow his gaze: standing between the pulpit and the throne was a woman wearing her face. This version of her was translucent, shimmering in the candlelight, and her hair was silver like moonlight.

“Phyrra?” Fenna rasped.

“Where have you been, wife?” Rhaeus demanded.

“Recuperating. My last death took a great toll.”

“You’re testing my patience.”

She smiled serenely. “Then perhaps you should not have burnt my last Vessel beyond repair.”

He moved so fast Fenna couldn’t even perceive it—one second he was two paces from her at the entrance to the church, the next he had his fingers digging into Phyrra’s jaw at the opposite end of the nave. “Perhaps you should have obeyed my orders.”

Phyrra glared up at her husband, and he stared back at her, like they were locked in a silent conversation. 

Fenna massaged her throat and pushed herself into a sitting position. She understood why Phyrra refused to take over their body if this was what was waiting for her. 

Rhaeus smirked and kissed Phyrra, who remained perfectly still. It wasn’t a gesture of love, or even kindness. It was pure possessiveness.

“I will take no more from you today,” he spat. “Consider this my mercy.” 

There was a flash of light and he vanished. Fenna jumped up and rushed to Phyrra as she wavered on her feet, reaching her as she started to lose what little solidity she had.

“Have you considered divorce?” Fenna asked.

The goddess laughed. It was tired, and it was a little sad, but it was a laugh.

Fenna held out her hand. Phyrra accepted it then faded from sight.