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kneelingshadowsalome · 1 year ago
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I Never Missed You 3/3 (Bodyguard!Ghost x F!Reader)
Word count: 6.4 k
Tags/warnings: 18+ only. Romance, eventual smut, fluff, light angst, banter, pining, flirting, minor injuries, major character death, HFN ending. Lady/Knight dynamic. Unequal pairing trope. Bodyguard AU. Reader is a rich bitch (how else could she afford a PPO?)
Summary: You hire a bodyguard to protect you and hunt down the one who's been sent to take your life. This man was your lawyer's first recommendation, and you never even looked through his file because you had better things to do. But it soon turns out that this man – this Simon Riley – is very talented... Talented in driving you crazy.
A/N: A three part fic based on this request. Angst and smut and fluff (the holy trinity!) in this last part.
Part 1 Part 2
Juice spills all over the table from the oranges you press, but you don't mind. There has been a soft smile on your face all morning.
Simon's still sleeping, and you want to surprise him with a special breakfast today: scrambled eggs, freshly pressed orange juice, berries, and…
"You took my shirt."
You flinch when you hear his familiar rumble not a few feet away. The staircase wailed like a widow last night, but obviously, this man has learned to avoid the creaky spots when he wants. A goddamn heavyweight ninja...
"I'm sorry." You lick your fingers from the juice and try to feign innocence. The sleeves of his black tee reach your elbows, but you're not sorry. Nor do you feel bad about seeing him in your kitchen without a shirt.
"It was not an accusation," he says, the corner of his mouth curving a little, the dark eyes that made love to you last night giving you an approving once-over.
You approach him with a glass full of sun, but it's you he grabs in his hold. Your fingers find the scars on his back as you two embrace, and you feel an odd churn in your stomach.
"What's this…?"
Your hand floats across the embossed, white ridges that crisscross his back. The collection forms an entire mountain range, and it's chilling because you've only brushed the space between his shoulder blades.
"A reminder. To trust no one."
"No one…?"
"No one."
You remain a coward and refrain from asking for more details. You doubt he would even share them.
"I made you breakfast," you lower your gaze to the colorful palette you've gathered on the plates. Is it some sort of an instinct to want to feed a man after they've fucked you so good?
"So I see," he says, ever more approvingly. Then you're lifted on the table, next to the plates, like you're the breakfast.
Soon you're only wearing his shirt and your tiny socks, which Simon decides to leave on, too busy with getting his face between your legs. 
No one has done anything like that before… No one has chosen you over breakfast; an entire abundance of delicacies laid out. 
He licks you until your legs are trembling on that tortured back. You're pure, you're untouched by evil, and he carries your naivety on his shoulders like it weighs nothing. He flattens his tongue on you, sucks your flesh, tortures you on that table and doesn't even mind his teeth all too much. The peak stubble he hasn't yet shaved stings and burns as he moves across your folds. 
Saying that the coarse chin on your silk feels good would be an understatement. You come undone next to the breakfast, clad in golden light shining through the small window left uncovered.
You feel alive, and raw, and stellar. A shooting star, a comet high above the sky, although the space through which you ignite consists of golden rays of sunlight and the scent of orange juice. 
He takes the shirt back after he's done. After you're done and try your best to return back to earth with shaking legs. The only thing you're wearing is your socks, but you feel completely naked before him, dopey and dumb before the day has even started. Simon only licks his lips, throws that shirt on, and grabs his plate.
He dares to comment that there's no hot water. You put the kettle on with a wobble, feeling hotness on your cheeks while he sits down to eat his second breakfast like it's the most natural thing in the world: to wreck you first thing in the morning.
…............................
Simon.
He fixes the door on your fridge. He helps you clean your garage and fucks you on the table. Oily, dusty, filthy table. You go to shower after, together. You're giggling; he's smiling. Fully, now.
You want to ask him, Is this free of charge too…? Not just his cock... But his smiles. His assistance and support. The looks he grants you when you come out of the shower, ready to be licked to ruin.
He calls you his Princess to tease you just right. To get you in a state where your eyes flash with half-rage, half-lust, just before he slips inside you. He knows exactly which strings to pull – and then calls you love just when you're about to give him a piece of your mind.
You end up on the table, on the counter, on the floor. He takes you while your jaw slowly falls open from his audacity and his cock, splitting you apart with slow love. The first time he takes you in a missionary, you squirt. It's like his cock was made for you. And he dares to tease you about that, too.
"Did ya just squirt all over my cock?"
You have tears in your eyes, shame on your cheeks, and he's wetter than a wet dog down there… then he makes you squirt again, high on the lewd, obscene praise you just gave him with your pussy. 
Your cunt can't lie; he knows it by now. So it's futile to keep your lips sealed either.
Kiss me. 
That's what you would've usually ordered. But after an exceptionally quiet and passionate and desperate fuck that leaves you both catching your breath, leaves him hovering only inches from your sweaty upper lip, you whisper…
"I want to kiss you."
You expect him to laugh or mock you, at least crack a stupid joke or two. But he doesn't. Instead, his eyes drop to your lips, and he swallows with a heavy roll, then closes the gap between you two. Covers your mouth with his, uses that strong jaw to open you for devouring.
The kiss lasts long enough for you to begin breathing through your nose. Your inner walls grip him, still buried deep inside, and the gusts of exhales passing through his nostrils hit your face with pure bliss. He’s a little breathless when he parts – withdraws just enough to look into your eyes.
“Will that do...?”
There is a drunken vigor in his eyes of crushed amber, but to your shock, you hear your own question laid out before you. The one you asked when you were going to that party.
Will I do…?
Your hands find his jaw and cup his face from both sides, drawing him back to your lips.
“Yes." 
You will more than just do. 
And then you say… 
"I want more.”
He chuckles a soft scoff on your face. 
"Greedy little thing." 
Then he swallows you again. You kiss for a good few minutes while he grows half-hard inside you. It's the most romantic kiss you have shared with anyone, ever. He tells you how spoiled you are between the breaths you both catch, then spoils you some more with his mouth and tongue and cock. 
You start to curl together in the evening. Just to watch a comedy. He massages your feet and smiles more every day. It's kind of domestic, how he wrinkles his nose at your fine white wine and asks what it is in that decanter you have in your study. When you say it's just some old bourbon, he goes and gets himself a glass like he's finally made himself at home. 
It makes your heart grow thick from love. You almost forget why he's here in the first place.
When you ask him about the plan, he explains it to you in detail while kissing his way down your ribs and navel. He takes his sweet time while doing it, kissing the inside of your thigh, the hollow place below the knee, the tender skin under the knee. He kisses your calf and the ankle bone while holding your leg up for his lips with just one hand. Then he does the same to your other leg, but this time, kisses his way from ankle to thigh until he reaches…
You.
You've forgotten half the plan by then because you realize Simon hasn't looked at you like you're a steak or garbage in a long, long time. 
He looks at you like you're a queen. You could say he worships you, but the thought alone makes your heart flutter with the anxiety of a fragile hummingbird. 
Simon gets you your groceries and gets himself only a beer as a reward. You would happily offer him a case if you knew it would make him happy.
But you don't really know what would make him happy. You don't know anything about this man. You know he likes it when you're dolled up and angry. He likes you when you're sleepy, without makeup, wearing only his shirt. He likes to fuck you from behind and hold you close after. He likes to give you a wash, likes it when you wash him. He likes to watch the two tall trees outside the window sway when there's a strong wind. 
"What makes you happy?" You ask one night after you've had him in your mouth.
"Blowjobs," he answers with a straight face, and you shove him in the shoulder. Nicely. Softly.
"No, for real."
"I dunno." He sighs and turns to stare at your ceiling with a bothered look. It's a tricky question, perhaps. Or weapons, not willingly gifted. 
"Dogs," he shrugs after a while. "A day of silence. Good whiskey."
He doesn't grant you weapons. You get some rope, but not enough to choke him with it. He trusts no one.
"Why don't you like missionary…?" You continue roasting him while curling your fingers around the pale hair on his chest.
"I never said I didn't like it."
"Don't avoid the question, Mr. Doggystyle."
You prop yourself up on your elbow and place your palm flat over his heart. His stare slowly drifts from the ceiling back to you.
"Simon. Why do you always fuck me from behind?" 
He raises his eyebrows like he's innocent of the crime he's being accused of. "Not always."
"Seriously, Simon."
The smug look returns; it gives his eyes a delightful little spark and tugs at the corner of that kissable mouth.
"I like your ass."
"But not my eyes?"
The smile dies, and he gulps down a short surprise, caught between truth and dare. But then his eyes settle like the calming sea under a full moon. Stern, but not remorseless. Bold, but not heartless. If anything, he's naked and bare.
"Darlin'. Love your eyes the most."
Your heart does a backflip. You've been a fool because what else has he done but search for your eyes first thing in the morning? Given you flashes of mischief over breakfast, made love to you with those eyes as you cum around his cock? That liquid fire and smoke hasn't left you since he stepped inside this house.
You breathe together; you can feel the slow rise and fall of his chest. There was a time when you thought this man was incapable of love, but now you fear he has never been allowed to love enough.
"We never talked, you know," you whisper. His heart swells underneath your palm like a sail.
"What'ya wanna talk about?"
"Us."
"So talk."
Walls are raised so quickly you feel them knocking the warmth out of your body. It's cold, it's Antarctic, the technique he uses to withdraw. Your room turns into a kingdom of ice from the cruel, emotionless indifference he emits. 
You've been a fool, yes... And a child.
"You're making it hard," you say, noticing how the man starts to tense up under your fingertips. This is not the way, but you're not smart enough to stop your rampage.
"What happens when you've done your job?"
He doesn't sigh. He doesn't even think twice before giving his answer.
"I go back to the base."
You know now why he's called a ghost. You wonder if he was ever even here. Simon becomes a reminder for you, a reminder to trust no one.
"...Right." You pull your hand away slowly. As if it somehow helps with the pain to pretend you haven't just touched a hot stove and ended up getting your fingers burned.
He notices how you tense up far more than he. The arm around your waist goes tight, and you wonder if you've always been a bloodied steak to this brute, a stupid little princess with your wines, sighs, and wet eyes. He just doesn't want to let go of the last bites of his fine, delicious meat.
"I never thought you wanted a relationship," he says with a hollow voice, and the red rage nearly blinds your sight. You're too riled up to even yell at him.
"Love…" he tries for the last time.
"Get out of my bed."
…............................
His musk still clings to you as you descend the stairs the next morning.
He's sitting at the end of the steps with hunched shoulders and a tense back, exiled into the man he was the first day you met him. Your heart bleeds from the sight, wondering whether Simon has waited there the whole night after you kicked him out of your bedroom. But the boiling bile in your stomach forces you to lift your chin and draw your shoulders back as you walk down those steps with an audible clatter as your heels clack across the parquet.
He must've heard you before you make a racket fitting for an angered queen, but rises only after you've made it halfway through the staircase. You won't allow yourself to even look his way as he draws a deep breath.
"Love. Sweetheart."
But with that, you flash the man a stare full of despise as you walk past him.
"Don't."
"Let me–"
"Don't say a word," you take a sharp turn and raise a hand to shield you from whatever brutality he would like to stain you with. "You don't talk to me. You just do your job. Ok?"
His chest swells with another deep breath, but otherwise, this man is still as a statue again.
"Ma'am."
It takes you a while to notice he has regressed back to that term again, and you tilt your head. The movement is that of a warrior who swings her sword to a guard before a fight. He crosses his hands over his crotch as if to shield the most vulnerable parts from a low blow, but his eyes are full of hateful hurt as he gives you his most pretentious, mocking tone.
"Miss."
Your heart skips a beat – Simon becomes the thing you miss. 
A hit and run.
You have to resist the urge to grimace at the pure venom in his voice - it doesn't matter what he calls you because that tone seeps straight through your skin like lye. It hurts; it burns to see him even more withdrawn to his shell than when you first met. He retreats far beyond the front line, he goes further than the rear, and it's a bitter defeat for both of you. 
This man has rubbed your feet while you've laughed at a stupid joke in a sitcom. The same man has been inside you – night after night after night. It rips your heart to see a distant, perfectly blank expression on his face after you've seen him give you a plentitude of relaxed and wicked little smiles. 
You share the breakfast in funeral-like silence. You wish you could pay him to stay home so that you can go through your day filled with terror and longing without Simon Riley following you around.
"I've been meaning to update you on new intel about the target," he breaks the silence, and your heart feels like it's being put through a wringer. Simon hasn't even touched his breakfast. "Turns out he received training in a sniper unit."
"So?"
"There's a high chance he might prefer to use long-range weapons."
He's professional, curt, clinical. Even more so than when you first shook hands with him. And all the while, those eyes burn you; they examine you like you're the most challenging puzzle he's ever tried to solve. He's cold as ice with his words and hot as hell with that stare. Those eyes seem to pierce your clothes, they even reach under your skin.
"Right," you say without giving him a single look back.
"We have to update our protocol asap."
Our…
We.
"The protocol…" you whisper and finally look up at him. His lips draw into a thin line as he sees how your walls crumble; they didn't last even half a day.
"Simon, I can't do this," you say, your voice breaking. The tears are only seconds away. They blur your sight, but as he rises from the table slowly and takes a hesitant step towards you, you turn your head back to your toast with a snap.
"I want to change bodyguards."
From the corner of your blurred vision, you see how he raises a hand. If you didn't know any better, you could say that he's at his weakest. But the hand falls straight back and gives a twitch by his side. You wonder why he even bothers to disguise the spasm so lousily as a stretch. It's as if he wants you to see that he's in tumult too.
"I'll stay until–"
"No. Get out."
"Miss. I'll just get my things," he says, and you nod briefly. No exchange of gazes is probably the best policy after informing him you no longer need his services. It's better to rip the band-aid off with one yank than try to pretend that this relationship was something more than sexual. 
You know he came to your house with minimal belongings, a duffel bag full of spare clothes and a large case which you supposed was a container for different weapons. That is why you notice he takes a surprisingly long time to get those things and leave your house.
When he finally emerges from his room – no, not his room, but the guest room, you remind yourself – he places the luggage in the hallway and comes back to you, probably to say his polite farewells.
"You won't let me speak to you, so I wrote you a fuckin' letter."
You turn to solid stone as he places an envelope between your water glass and cup of coffee. You sit with your heart thumping in your chest as he picks up his things, walks to the door, walks out of it and out of your life.
It's one of those moments you wish you could freeze and rewind. Do everything differently so that it wouldn't have to come to this. Instead, you listen how the front door clunks shut.
Then you send your trembling fingers up from your lap and onto the pure white thing that holds his secrets. You pry it open and find yourself reading the lines, scribbled with surprisingly sophisticated handwriting, through a round of hot tears.
They cloud your vision, but they don't cloud his words.
You skim through the letter in a frenzied hurry once, then again with more control, and try to remember how to breathe.
He shares shrivels from his past, ugly, horrid things which make your breakfast nearly push up your throat. He tells you he stopped dating eleven years ago for a reason. He writes that he would rather be tortured again than make you suffer from his past and incapacities.
There are certain lines that enter your heart like a thief with the most delicate crowbar. Lines like I'm not good with words and You must know by now that I'm a broken man.
Lines like I'm not a fucking poet but I'll miss your warmth even under the desert sun.
Some lines make you want to tear the letter to pieces. Lines such as Don't throw your diamonds in the dust and I can't give you what you deserve.
He thinks you can't take his darkness, so he shelters you from it. He says he would come back to you if he could. You don't know what the hell he means by that. 
If he could? 
What the fuck prevents him?
You sit inside your empty, lonely house, confident of the fact that it is not you who prevents it. It was not you who just sent him out that door. Who commanded him to leave because you didn't need his services anymore.
The letter makes you cry, and then it makes you boil.
Such sweet words, and so many empty sentences. If only, if I wasn't, if I could.
You get the feeling that he's mocking you again. If only you weren't a princess and a spoiled brat, then perhaps he could reconsider this relationship.
You leave the letter there; you leave your coffee and your breakfast. You almost wish someone would shoot you and put you out of your misery as you call a taxi and go to the heart of the city.
You're completely numb as your fingertips brush silk and linen and all the newest designs. They curl around tiny bottles of bright nail polish and touch the perfumes made from the last free wildflowers of a burning world, but you feel nothing stir inside.
You're emptier than the echo that rings through the malls and corridors of stone; you feel poorer than all the beggars on the street. Shopping always makes you feel better. But now you want to burn all your money, throw your jewels out the window, torch all the fucking stores like some bloody anarchist. You leave every store without buying a thing and try to remember what it was to have lunch without drowning in tears that can't be cried in public.
"I can't give you what you deserve."
That's the line that scalds you most. You know what he meant when he wrote those words, seemingly humble. But your bleeding heart twists that sentence until his words are a testimony of pure rejection.
You have money, so you don't deserve love, is that it?
You want to find him and shake him. It's not about what you deserve or what he deserves. It's not about what anyone deserves. And if the bloody man thinks he doesn't deserve love only because he's made his home in suffering, then he's the last person who should be allowed to decide who deserves what.
You walk through the crowds and streets like a small whirlwind, on the verge of yelling your heart and loneliness out in the air until your vocal cords are raw. You're so riled your mind doesn't even register the gunshot.
The only thing you hear is a glass shattering next to you just before an entire boulder hits you.
His scent envelops you like a safe, warm blanket, even if that blanket weighs a ton and causes your jeans to grate and tear as you two hit the asphalt. Simon gives you bruises, scrapes and burns all across your left side as your body grinds through the dirt. 
Another shot is fired; this time, a car's glass is shattered above you, and the body surrounding you tenses until you worry your bodyguard has been hit. The bodyguard you fired this morning, who's still doing his job, who never even left you…
People are screaming and running in different directions all around and above you, but time comes to a halt as Simon rises only an inch or two.
"Stay down," he gruffs in your ear. "Don't move. Don't you fucking move, ok?"
The whole world could've gone silent from the way you only hear his voice. His words. His distress. You remain still as a stone and look up at him – your lips part because he's looking at you with impatience that's not just pressing; it's demanding.
"Yes," you stutter, "yes, of course."
Someone's pissed because a third shot sends him right back over you, and only then do you notice you're clinging to him, to his jacket and his shirt, like he's a human shield. Then the human shield speaks again, and the words that come out only make you grip him tighter.
"He has to change the magazine soon. You stay right here, ok? I'm going in."
"No, don't," your fingers curl around his clothes and try to keep him on top of you. "Don't go. I'm afraid."
I'll get you a dog. 
A day of silence. 
I'll buy you some good whiskey. I promise…
"I'll be right back," he murmurs, more softly now. "I promise." 
Then he rips himself off you. Your body misses his heat like the desert sand must miss the sun, and you realize you've ruined everything as you finally get to watch him in his element. He's agile and beautiful as he reaches for his gun, takes it out, and prepares it in a few seconds to fire death upon your faceless enemy. You've ruined everything because if Simon goes in, he might get killed – he's a human, not a shield, he's not even a weapon – and all the things you never said will haunt you for the rest of your life.
"Don't leave me," you want to reach for him, but don't dare disobey his orders. It should send you laughing: that you're finally doing precisely as he says. You finally trust your life with him, just before he leaves you, leaves you, leaves you. 
"Simon–"
"Sweetheart. I never left you."
He looks straight into your eyes. You gulp the tears now.
"I'm so sorry," you whisper, and someone is screaming; everythings a buzz, cars whir by as you tell him all the things you meant to say weeks ago. "I never wanted you to go. I always liked you. I– I think I love–"
"Shh. Don't you do this to me now."
The words are so soft you have to struggle to hear what he's saying under his breath. It's like he's talking to himself, and you realize you're an asshole, saying things like that to him when he's trying to concentrate on his mission and his job. But you just can't help yourself sometimes. No one in your life compares to him. No one has caused such a ruckus, such turmoil, such devastation and such love.
"Do what?" you whimper there, motionless on the ground as he gives you a last, painful look before his stare fixes on the piece of glass still unshattered, the dim, transient mirror of a store window he uses to locate movement in one of the buildings. 
Then he takes a peek over the car, and you hold your breath – he's the bait now, and ducks his head immediately as two more shots are fired. You don't even have the strength to scream; your whole body simply shudders from the echoing sound of pure fear – how can he play tag with death like that? 
And then he leaves. 
He rounds the car and darts for the building and the sniper; he disappears from your vision so quickly you wonder if these past weeks have been but a dream.
A hit and run.
"Do what…" you repeat on the ground and curl into yourself even though he said you shouldn't move. You figure it's not that big of a crime to go into a fetal position when you don't know if he's ever coming back to scold you for breaking the rules.
You want to close your ears from the sounds that follow – you fear you'll jinx something if you listen too closely to what happens in that building. You try to concentrate on your breaths, slowly bringing you back to your body. You haven't even noticed that there's blood running down your arm.
It's funny how you only notice the pain after seeing the flowing crimson that makes small rivers around your fingers. You don't want to look at your burning shoulder because the shock is already here. 
The searing pulse gets worse as you hear another shot, then another shot. Those sounds pound inside your shoulder and send more fire down your arm. Minutes or hours pass and you think how strange it is that everything's completely still, how bizarre it is that there are no sirens, no cars, no screaming. They've finally closed off the roads.
You only start to cry when you see that he's alive.
You try to rise from the ground to meet him – a bleeding princess, waking from her beauty sleep and realizing everything's just been a bad dream, greeting her knight in a black pair of fitted tactical pants and a pistol on his waist. Diamonds and darkness…
He rushes to you in what seems like desperation. You find it oddly beautiful that he's not only relieved to see his client is still alive and well, he's also relieved to know you're still there. That his princess has waited for him.
He falls on his knees and prevents you from rising. You're quickly wrapped in his arms, feeling so happy and safe that you don't even bother to tell him you're injured. It's just a scratch anyway. Even if your leg was blown off, you wouldn't complain about being picked up in his lap like this. 
"Shh. I got you. I got you."
He's cradling you like a child while tears stream down your face, but there's no audible sounds of crying. You weep a whole river of tears and your nose is clogged, forcing you to breathe through your mouth, but there's no wailing, no screaming, no bawling. The first words that roll off your tongue are a child's moody complaint.
"You left me," you mope as he caresses your head.
"Only for a little while."
"You came back."
"I said I would."
More tears flow, and this time you sniffle and sob. He rocks you gently back and forth as you cry in his embrace. Simon would make a good father.
"Is he…?" You whisper, then look up at him. He just nods and gives you a quick scan, drawing a sharp breath when he notices the wound on your arm. 
You're placed back on the ground as he inspects your shoulder and tells you the bullet managed to scrape some skin but has mostly just ruined your jacket. You're almost sorry that the wound is not as severe as it feels. You thought the burning sensation meant shattered bones and scarred flesh, but the scratch is no deeper than if you had accidentally cut yourself with a kitchen knife.
"No, I don't want… No hospital," you beg as he offers to take you to ER. You're not spending the rest of the day in a frigid treatment room where tired medical personnel only clean the wound and put a big plaster on it. 
"Just take me home," you plead like you're his daughter who doesn't want to go to school today. "Please?"
"Sure. Whatever ya want."
He makes a few phone calls, arranges things with the local police or something. You don't want to know anything about it. You don't want to know who got shot in that building and how.
It's not a taxi that drives you back this time. You don't know where he got a car and a driver, but the vehicle is big and black, and your head is in Simon's lap when you lie in the backseat. There's a panel between the driver's seat and the rear, so you don't even know who's driving, but you're only grateful for the privacy after the crazy morning followed by a murder attempt. You look up at Simon, who looks back at you for the first time while you're in a car together.
"Why did you become a soldier?" You ask, not knowing why you're whispering. He's holding your hand – a simple, wholesome thing to do, but his grip on you is solid and warm and feels equally as intimate as the times this man has been inside you. 
"I wanted to help people." 
"By killing them?"
"By saving those I can."
He keeps a hand on your cheek too. Simon has spoken softly ever since you were fired at, has been humane and caring and tender, and you realize… This man is naked before you; he's stripped bare from all pretenses. 
And he's not darkness. He's not a skeleton or a dead man or even a soldier.
He's a beacon in the night.
"You did a good job," you squeeze his hand softly.
The last glass-like veil in his eyes shatters, but far more softly than those windows shot at with a rifle.
"I live to serve, Ma'am...–Miss."
"Don’t… Simon, please don’t call me a–"
He descends. He doesn't need that hand to lift your chin up to meet him in a kiss. It's not a hungry devouring this time, but a soft promise, a lover's seal. You feel the rest of the shock leave your body in his embrace. There's no more coldness, only a fragile burning.
"You never look me in the eyes," you whisper as a tear escapes from the corner of your eye. It's a silly thing to say when he looks at you with all the love in the world.
"Yes I do," he gives you a soft brush of a thumb across your cheek. His lips are right there, an inch away from yours. "How could you have missed that?"
He's right, as always. The dark love almost swallows the brown of his eyes as he looks at you, shining light on you as he has shined for days, for weeks now. How could you have missed that, indeed? You raise a hand to cup his cheek, not caring about the pain, not even mourning that your blood stains his chin. He doesn't seem to mind at all, so why would you?
When you arrive at your house, he drives away the loneliness, sorrow, everything a rich girl can fear by carrying you in his arms, stepping over the threshold with you like you two are married now.
He peels your jacket off with affection and tenderness, tends to your wound and wipes away the blood that has caked dry all over your arm. The gash has bled a lot for such a small wound, and you purse your lips from how accurately it reflects your feelings for him.
He ties the wound, checks at least two times he's not tying it too tight. His care breaks your heart, because you don't know whether he will leave you after this. There's nothing that keeps him here anymore – there's no way you can keep Simon Riley to yourself. So you abandon him first for the second time, ascend the stairs to your lonely domain while he cleans up the small mess in the bathroom.
It's a small miracle that he follows you. He opens the door to your room without knocking – not because he's entitled to your privacy, but because there are no more barriers between you two. You're gathered in a stout embrace for the second time this afternoon, and you wrap your arms around him to hold him closer.
"You'll leave me soon," you speak to the wall before you, to the man behind you, holding you so gently against his chest. "I'll miss you."
"Love," he murmurs behind you, you feel the words against your back as a warm rumble. "I'll come back. If you want me, I'll come back to you."
"You will…?"
"I promise."
You have no more tears to cry, so you settle for examining the stab inside your heart, the wound that will bleed you dry if no one ties it tightly enough. 
"I don't believe you."
"It's not a matter of whether you believe me."
He turns you around and lets you bathe in his warmth again, the same golden light that came through the window when he placed his mouth on you in the kitchen. It's almost frightening to know that there's nothing that can keep him from you. Nothing, except you. The only thing that has stood between you was only and ever pride.
"Simon," you breathe, a soft attempt to introduce him to mercy. "It's not a matter of what we deserve."
He blinks a few times, the chest against your side collapses a little. It's a hard reset. The corner of his mouth tugs, a beautiful betrayal of his surrender, a sign of being hit by a boulder – your boulder, finally bringing the rest of those walls down.
"You think so...?"
"Yes. I think so."
He brushes his knuckles across your sternum – a familiar motion that always manages to lift your heart. You used to think it was foreplay when it was in truth, an attempt to touch the organ said to be the house of love.
You think about the times his harsh breaths have hit you just before he cums, the urgent praise he's peppered you with merely seconds before you've cried from pleasure. Can't get enough of you pet, you’re fucking perfect, 'm gonna make you cum, sing for me, just like that... 
You always thought it was a catalogue of shallow lust when it was an offering of naked devotion. 
He was as vulnerable as you when you drifted through space together, when you drowned in his stunning midnight sea. He was catching fire and burning too, again and again until you were both satisfied and sweaty. He always held you close after, panted desperate love on your skin, planted kisses on your collarbones and neck before resting his head on your heart. Settling there, over your pulse, like he had finally found his way home…
The hand glides between your breasts and molds itself over your waist. It fits there like a second skin. You're relatively sure his hands were made for holding you. 
"You asked what makes me happy," he says, completely naked and bare. The heavy love surrounds you with warm safety; your breath flows freely as you await his confession, the last secret revealed. "I think you know, love."
You know. It has finally dawned on you. What you didn't know was that tears of hope could feel like fire too. You've never been more eager to burn.
"Now keep those pretty eyes on me."
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dar1ingrapsca1lion · 3 months ago
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Intro Post!(w0w!)
Please do not send donation asks to this blog! I have a side blog for that @/sols-donations . Any asks that are sent will be copy-pasted to this side blog!
Name: call me Sol, Stellar, or Ratsby, I don't care(I also would mind like. Farmer names ig? Idk what else to call them. Jeremiah, Jedediah, etc. I just think they’re really funny.)
Pronouns/terms: any(I'm genderfluid), but I prefer he/they/she
Orientation: Pansexual/romantic
Age: !MINOR! Please don't be weird about it
Hobbies/interests: aesthetics, theater, weird history, cryptids, art, writing, obscure religion stuff(I'm not super religious myself), mythology, vulture culture/oddities, journaling
Fandoms: Spooky Month, Yaelokre, Moomin, Good Omens, Faith: the Unholy Trinity, Welcome Home, Miss Peregrine's, SCP, Gothic lit., BFUCU, Ghost BC, musical theater
My music: Will Wood, Ghost, Dresden Dolls, Cavetown, Lemon Demon, Mother Mother, Scissor Sisters, Marina and the Diamonds, Ricky Montgomery, Hozier
DNI: the usual, no racists, homophobes, transphobes, ableists, MAPS/paraphiles, sexists, anti-xenogenders/neopronouns, anti-alterhuman/otherkin, anti-furry, pro/comshippers etc.
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Welcome to my gremlin lair lol. I have adhd so I jump between fandoms a lot, but I'll try to keep everyone well fed. I like posting about fandoms, aesthetics, and my art. Requests and asks are always open, but I can't guarantee I'll get to all or even any of them because I can't commit to anything. Please keep requests related to my fandoms and interests. When in doubt, use tone indicators. Reblogs preferred over likes. Follow my comrade Eli @okayishness please.
Pfp is The Witch by John Maler Collier
blinky by oreos-chaos
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strawberry-s0ap · 2 years ago
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❀✿** favourite media ❀✿**
i’ve had a few asks about it, so i thought i’d make a post with some of my favourite media! please note that this doesn’t mean i don’t make content for other media!! these are just some of my favourites and i’d be really happy to get requests for any of them :)
ones in bold are my very favourites!
❀ pokemon
❀ yokai watch
❀ super mario (this includes paper mario, mario rpgs and most other spinoffs. if it has mario in it, i have probably played it)
❀ nintendo in general
❀ nanbaka
❀ ace attorney (including tgaac, aai ect)
❀ the dinoverse games (vtsom, twdak ect)
❀ vocaloid/utauloid
❀ sailor moon
❀ magical girl anime in general
❀ mlp (mostly fim, including equestria girls)
❀ silent hill
❀ dhmis
❀ jojos bizzare adventure
❀ lucky star
❀ moriarty the patriot
❀ junji ito manga
❀ the magnus archives
❀ kirby
❀ undertale/deltarune
❀ stellar firma
❀ the devil is a part timer
❀ sanrio
❀ faith:the unholy trinity
❀ the royal tutor
❀ the disastrous life of saiki k
❀ stardew valley
❀ animal crossing
❀ potion permit
❀ lacey games
❀ style boutique/ style savvy
❀ doki doki literature club
❀ hunter x hunter
❀ obey me
❀ scott pilgrim vs the world (mostly the comics)
❀ how to train your dragon (books, i’ve not seen the movies)
❀ hades game
❀ cowboy bebop
❀ death note
❀ the stanley parable
❀ care bears
❀ studio ghibli
other interests -
❀ the ocean and marine biology
❀ video games
❀ sylvanian families
❀ dolls/doll customising
❀ fashion (lolita, ouji, gyaru, j-fashion/harajuku in general and goth especially!)
❀ drag
❀ horror
❀ baking
❀ music (metal, nu metal, glam rock and occult rock are some of my fav genres!)
if you have any requests for any of these things i would love to hear them!
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capricornus-rex · 4 years ago
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Hey Hon! I know you’re cramped with requests and the “Old Friend, New Family” story so feel free to do this one whenever you’re ready! No rush! ☺️💖 Cal not knowing the reader has arachnophobia so when they go to Kashyyyk and are attacked by a huge, albino Wyyyschokk, she freaks out? To the point where she’s completely out of her wits, panic mode on FULL, and just scared to death? I have arachnophobia so when I had to play Kashyyyk, it was the worst experience of my life ;////3////;
Honestly, those spiders always give me the creeps and make me shudder ;;A;; Also, so very sorry for not publishing so soon! :( But good thing I just brought home my newly-fixed laptop today!! <3 I hope I can make it up to you and everyone with the fics. I’ll try my best to really keep publishing. Don’t worry, I’m not planning on quitting. Why would I? ;3 I’m having a blast with everyone here!!!
“In the Face of Fear” | Cal Kestis x Reader
Summary: Kashyyyk has its own charms and surprises, but what if one of those said surprises rear its ugly, unpleasant head right in front of you in the form of a spider that’s the size of a boulder?
Tags: Arachnophobia, Wyyyschokk, Matriarch Wyyyschokk, Kashyyyk, Arachnophobic! Reader
Also in AO3
Next: Part 2 | Masterlist
1 of ?
You and Cal finish off the last wave of Stormtroopers.
The partisan informants were right about the Imps getting into the forest to find Tarfful’s home village—which also doubles as a hideout for the Wookiees and a handful of partisans now led by Mari Kosan after Saw had left them.
“Good thing they haven’t come close to the hideout itself,” Cal commented.
“No,” you scoffed a chuckle. “They have a lot to go through besides us.”
Beneath your snarky, roguish facade, you clench your fist as you fight off the chill travelling down your spine when you catch the cluster of hatched Wyyyschokk eggs glued to a tree trunk. Cal spotted your grimace, you’re not taking your eyes off of those empty, shattered shells.
 “You sure can’t stop looking at them,”
“I want to, but… Oh, I don’t know,” you shrugged.
“Come on, let’s get away from them. Those hatchlings could be close,”
“Heeeey!!” you whined, he laughed in response. You playfully tackled him from behind as he walked ahead of you.
It was a tedious trek to the hideout village—but that’s its advantage—both Jedi had to cross paths with a few more creatures before getting to any of the watchtowers or huts. You’re just secretly thankful that you haven’t run into any Wyyyschokks yet—most especially the albino, which happens to be the rarest of its kind.
You tread the forest with more caution than care, your eyes pan from tree-to-tree—searching for signs of eggs and webs—and Cal was quiet about noticing your anxiety. He knew you hated it when your phobia is being pointed out in some way, though he figured you’d like to talk about it just to vent it out.
For someone who isn’t familiar with the terrain of Kashyyyk, it can either be mesmerizing or downright frightening. It goes both ways for you. It becomes the latter when you and Cal stumbled upon a wrong turn due to the labyrinthine layout of the forest. Cal realizes his mistake and attempts to solve it.
“Hey, Cal, are you sure you saw a marker in a tree hollow?”
“I think so,” he replied, with the doubt evident in his voice. “Okay, I really think we took a wrong turn.”
BD-1 politely cut in and flashed the holomap, both Jedi navigated with their eyes, occasionally pointing at patches of land and tracking their would-be path.
“I think we cut across this upper level of the forest, there should be—”
You could’ve sworn you heard something shuffle behind your backs. Your abrupt turning unintentionally cut off Cal in the middle of his explaining.
“[Y/N], you okay?”
“Did you hear that?”
A pause. He listened in on the silence.
A simple rustle of the flora simply heightened your senses—mostly propelled by fear—and then the thing that neither of you noticed before has caught your attention.
“[Y/N], honestly, are you alright?”
You didn’t answer, you kept scanning the area and knew completely well that something isn’t sitting right with you.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you sighed, and stepped forward. “I’m just jumpy, that’s all—”
“[Y/N], BACK AWAY!!!”
Too late! By the time Cal had noticed that you were walking into a literal trap and tried to get you out of it, he was pushed back when the most enormous and most brightly-colored Wyyyschokk both of you have ever seen pounced on you. It had been patiently waiting for either of you to step on its web trap on the ground—and you went right into it. The creature entrapped you with its legs as thick as tree roots, you wriggle helplessly as you couldn’t take your eyes off of its multitude of bulbous, full black eyes, and its mandibles foaming with bile—hungry for flesh—twitch and flick above your bosom.
You let out what ought to be the loudest scream your chords could ever produce; once out of breath, you inhale and exhale rapidly. Your throat goes sore from the shouting that it stings whenever air would enter your windpipe.
The words are dislodged in your throat—you wanted to scream for help but cannot—your voice renders itself absent in your mouth, and only the silence brought upon by the sheer horror of this monster’s overall appearance, and in an uncomfortable closeness with you too.
Cal ran up to it, leapt, and drove his saber into its plump, jiggling hind abdomen. It screeched—a shrill, piercing wail that left a high-pitch noise in the ears—and turned to the offensive against Cal. That was your signal to get up, but the terror had paralyzed you; instead, the entire scuffle with that gigantic Wyyyschokk happened right before your eyes—just like with the eggshells, you cannot look away no matter how much you want to, the longer you look the more materialized your fear becomes. The redhead succeeded in a series of parries to disorient the creature.
“[Y/N], get to the high ground!”
His warning fell on deaf ears. You’re still stuck in staring at the spider, with your back against the wall.
“Bee-beeee, triiiillll!!!”
“I know, BD, I know!”
The little droid warned Cal that you were still frozen stuck in harm’s way, and he needed to think fast to get both of you out of this mess. He cleanly blocked the Wyyyschokk’s incoming wave of attacks, searing its fangs and hairy legs with his lightsaber upon parrying—and while the creature was distracted by its wounds, Cal fished out a flashbomb. He turned his heel to you before the area would be engulfed in bright light in a matter of a split second. He snatched you by the arm, pulled you up, and that woke you from that frozen trance of fear.
“We gotta move!”
The Wyyyschokk thrashed and erratically scampered left and right in search of its prey, you and Cal were making your escape through a pinch in the wall; the enemy tried to catch up but you had already squeezed through the end, its pointed legs jerked as it fitted through the crack, desperately trying to claw either of you just for a scrap of meat.
Life was still flashing before your eyes even after the Wyyyschokk gave up its pursuit. Your heart pounded louder than the Wookiees’ war drums, so much so that your breath cannot keep up with the pulse anymore, and your limbs have returned to its jelly-like state after you crawled your way out of the wall.
He noticed the rapid, sharp breaths that you take. There was also a wetness glossing over the surface of your eyes.
“Are you hurt?”
You couldn’t speak, still shell-shocked by the assault, and slowly shook your head as a response. The tears persist.
“Come on,”
A single touch—gentle and slight—was enough to make you jolt. You were ceaselessly apologetic. For what, exactly? Cal patiently waited for you to calm yourself and eventually helped you. When he thought you were ready, he held out his hand for you.
Slow and steady—Cal took the lead again, and he made sure you were okay along the way. Eventually, you did reach the hideout, but the trauma still hasn’t left your system and you have no idea how to get it out. A partisan was out there to greet you, but the first thing he acknowledges is the horror in your blank stare.
“Is [Y/N] alright?”
“Not really, we just stumbled upon the biggest Wyyyschokk we’ve ever seen,”
“Wait, does this Wyyyschokk happen to have brighter colors than the rest?”
Both Jedi exchanged glances, trying to recall the appearance of the monstrosity, and then the two of you looked at the rebel again; though, it was Cal who did most of the conversing.
“Come to think of it, yeah, it was a bit more vibrant than the others,”
“Oh, well,�� the partisan scratched the back of his head, evidently reluctant to break it to you. “I think you guys just met the Matriarch Wyyyschokk.”
Your spine reduced to jelly again, goosebumps pelt your skin as a chill coated your shoulders, your eyes widened so much that they’d almost pop out of your sockets!
“I’m sorry,” you blinked several times, almost comically. “Run that by me again, soldier?”
“The Matriarch Wyyyschokk. Their mother. The mama spider.”
“I know what ‘matriarch’ means! But good gods, those things have a mother?!”
“Well, how do you expect to be so many of them wandering around without one?” the partisan shrugged.
“That’s just spectacular,” you say half-heartedly.
“Just steer clear of its den,”
“Thanks, we’ll remember that!” you whined.
Your hysterics still haven’t died down by the time both of you and Cal waltz through the network of bridges to start a little tour of the village.
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wheel-of-fish · 4 years ago
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By the Numbers Jöback, Hill, Stolle
By the Numbers:  The Peter Jöback/Samantha Hill/Jeremy Stolle Stream, August 15, 2020
A more timely roundup!  The things that can be accomplished without a kitten on your head!
This was a fascinating boot, featuring a Phantom with a lovely Swedish accented tenor voice, Samantha “too sweet to be hot, except to the Phantom” Hill, and release-the-thirst-floodgates Jeremy Stolle.  The Stolle thirst was boundless.  The Stolle thirst was all encompassing.  There was scarcely a vocal phrasing, gesture, line read or body part that was not only mentioned but gushed over.  I did not even begin to count the ways.  Every category would have been “greater than infinity”.  And, every comment was true.  This man delivered!  From the height of his tallness to the depths of his deep baritone, Stolle was on a roll in this boot.  The boot itself was very good quality, only one large Head occasionally swallowing the action like a black hole.  Very worth seeing!  The passion of the AIAOY Kiss is matched only by the physics involved in making it happen between oh so tall Stolle and oh so small Hill.  But true love always finds a way!
Suggested names for this boot:  Jöback in Black Boot, IKEA Phantom Boot, Stolle the Show Boot (Okay, nobody suggested these.  It was me.  I suggested these. The first one was from Fish’s password for this stream, though!)
Statistician’s Favorite Boot Name:  The FÅNTØM Boot (again, nobody’s suggestion but mine, spelling courtesy of missbuster)
Wow, we like to talk about Phantoms:  Well this week, we seemed to talk about everybody except other Phantoms.  Oh sure, some were mentioned, but let’s mix it up and see what other names were dropped this week.  Supply your own context for even greater amusement, because heaven knows you won’t find it here.  These numbers are a lot more accurate because, again, no kitten on head this week.  It occurs to me that instead of meticulous record keeping, I could just make crap up.  Not this week.  Maybe next week.  All these people were genuinely mentioned in this week’s stream.
Carly Rae Jepsen (7), Vin Diesel (1), John Travolta (3), Antonio Banderas (5), Hugh Jackman (3), Ian McKellen (3), Judy Dench (1), Emmy Rossum (2), Anne Hathaway (4), Russell Crowe (3), Patrick Wilson (1), James Corden (1), Rebel Wilson (1), Hadley Fraser (1), Kelly O’Hara (1), Francesca Hayward (1), Michael Gruber (1)
Fond mentions of 1998 “Cats”:  6
Mentions of 2019 “Cats”:  12 (I have left out any adjectives as most were Not Charitable.)
Opinions that “Cats” should only be done as an animation:  2
Oh, hey, yeah, another Phantom, mentions of Gerard Butler:  5 (I have left out any adjectives as most were along the lines of Bless His Heart)
Oh, hey, yeah, another Phantom, mentions of Paul Stanley:  14 (I have left out any adjectives as most were somewhere between Not Charitable and Bless His Heart)
Wishes for Rose to have good luck on her date while the rest of us stayed glued to our monitors on a Saturday night:  9
Inappropriate Random Zoom:  to Christine’s dressing table during Raoul’s visit (not NEARLY as inappropriate as the Random Zoom to Barbara the mannequin’s doors of summer during last week’s stream.)
Self-Caress mentions:  3 (The Phantom.  The PHANTOM.  Not whatever you were thinking.)
What scent are the Phantom’s candles:  Hopeless Mist (no, the Phantom’s candles were not discussed this week.  As the creator of the candle line which includes Underground Despair, I have decided to use this statistical summary to focus group test additional scentsations suitable for the Phantom’s Lair.  You are warned that this may be an Ongoing Feature.)
For Science mentions:  6
Boner mentions: 2 (I will not name names, you know who you are)
Apparent confirmation of boner mentions by people noticing Christine looking down during The Sprawl:  3
Is there any safe way to say that boner mentions are ummm trending downward?:  No
Unofficial Dialogue:  “TA DAAA” when the Phantom reveals the mirror bride (courtesy Wheel-of-fish, who just barely beat haunted-hideaway to it)
Outrageous Rumors Category: 
“Carly Rae Jepsen as Meg…..A dream”—deardaaery
“Carly Rae Jepsen played Meg???” –mrskroger
“I love how these streams can be used to start outrageous rumors”—Aldebaran
“rushing to tumblr to tell everyone about carly rae jepsen playing meg”—Wheel-of-fish
“Vin Diesel played Raoul, fact”—Aldebaran
IKEA mentions:  10
Suggestions for additional characters Jeremy Stolle could play in the All Stolle Show (phantom-of-the basement):  Mirror Bride (christinegrrl), Monkey Music Box (Flora-Gray), Madame Firmin (ktarinajones)
Everyone’s a critic:  “First review for the all stolle show has to be “he stolle the show” otherwise it’s a missed opportunity”—butdreamsofbeauty
The Phantom’s pillows mentions:  7
People of the opinion that the Phantom should use one of his 600 pillows as a cushion for fainted Christine’s head:  2 (question and number of pillows estimated by ashadeintheshade)
Vintage madamefaust on the Pillow Question:
Look, he took a long time arranging those pillows.  They’re from Pier One, they’re expensive, he doesn’t want to put them on the floor.
Erik has skillz:
“You know he’s handy.  Everything is probably homemade. Bitch can sew a hem.”—Melancholy’s Child
“Erik as a contestant on Project Runway”—Benny-Lynne
“I’m convinced he hand-sewed the Red Death costume.”—haunted-hideaway
“Five and half months working on that Red Death cosplay”—yamiangie
“has a “Red Death” pintrest”—blahahala                              
Outrageous Rumors Part Two:
“The pillows are hot-glued to the boat”—wheel-of-fish
People who fell for the Phantom hot-gluing pillows to the boat:  4
Outrageous Rumors Part Three                                          
“Carly Rae Jepsen hot glued those pillows”—wheel-of-fish
We stan a crafty Phantom:
“I just like the idea of Erik with a glue gun”—wheel-of-fish
 “erik bedazzling things”—butdreamsofbeauty
 “He  DEFINITELY has a bedazzler.”—madamefaust
 “erik bedazzles his own capes”—christinegrrl
 “erik with a staple gun putting pillows on a boat:  KACHUNK”—        phantomofthebasement
Barbara Speaks:
   “Being a mirror bride must be a hard job”—mrskroger
   “damn straight”—the-real-barbara
Rare Don Atillio appreciation mention: 1
Andre’s probable fear of ballerinas mentions:  6 (as suggested by madamefaust)
Andre’s issue gets a name:  Tutuphobia—Aldebaran
Possible alternate ending for POTO:
There’s like 8 ballerinas….if they all came together the Phantom would have no chance.—hell-lawliet
That’s why Buquet always carries a noose, fear of ballerinas–Aldebaran
AIAOY Kiss comments:  45 comments in 24 seconds
Requests for AIAOY Kiss replay:  6 (replay occurred)
Incorrect use  of the Raoul as an International Unit of Measure:  1 (I misstated in the stream that Christine would be 1.62 Raouls in height.  This is clearly false, as it would make her much taller than Raoul, who is already impossibly tall.  Using as our values Mr. Stolle at 6’3” and Ms. Hill at 5’4”, Christine’s height expressed in Raouls would be .8533 Raouls.  The statistician regrets the error.  This is why maybe I should just make crap up next time.  No, I will not convert the heights to the metric system.)
Debut of IKEA Phantom: 
“And the Phantom is just quietly weeping in the angel because…even he knows that is a hard act to follow”—madamefaust
“That is a kiss to cause a Phantom mental breakdown for sure”—Flora-Gray
“oh no the ikea phantom becomes unassembled”—Aldebaran
“he wasn’t anchored to the wall”—Benny-Lynne
“Someone get the allen wrench, we need to put back together a saad boi”—haunted-hideaway
Unholy Trinity of Cooper/Thiago/Uwe mentions:  1 (by madamefaust, who perhaps is protected by the sheer power of her vast Phannish humor and talent.  Please do not invoke the Unholy Trinity on a whim yourself.)
Respect given to Steve Barton in the form of “Fs”:  11 (entirely appropriate at any time but especially during a boot with such a stellar Raoul)
Red Death as a Swedish Fish mentions:  3 (not to his face, never to his face)                                         
 “tiny swedish fish red death”—Aldebaran
 “HE IS A SWEDISH FISH”—madamefaust
 “the most dramatic swedish fish”—butdreamsofbeauty
Best from Onthevirg’s Mom:  “We should talk about Phantom Jaws”
Fathering Gaze lyric:  1
Split decision on the statement by mrskroger that Wandering Child has a strong Daddy’s Home vibe:
*Strong NO from Wheel-of-fish
*Strong YES from Benny-Lynne
That staff tho: 
“Fire Pez One.  Fire Pez Two.”—Aldebaran
“Skeletor Pez Dispenser”—DoCTy
“I wonder what it’s like to be that dramatique that you fashion a staff that shoots fire”—haunted-hideaway
“He probably bedazzled the staff as well”—Aldebaran
“oh he definitely bedazzled it”—christinegrrrl
“ ‘bedazzled staff’ definitely sounds like something hmm”—onthevirg
Number of audience cell phone rings at insanely crucial moments:  1
Attempting to bring Logic to PONR:
“I know it’s a plot device, but who has a hood that big, really?”—haunted-hideaway
“THIS IS THE EXACT SAME MAN.  MUCH STEALTH.  SUPER INCOGNITO”—madamefaust
“Yeah, I don’t know guys…I don’t think that’s Piangi…?” —Flora-Gray
“yeah swedish italian accent is a giveaway”–Aldebaran
Education of the Innocent:
“ok, I don’t know The Lore, why do we call her Barbara”—butdreamsofbeauty
“Haunted named her in a stream.  She said: ‘Her name is Barbara and she had hopes and  dreams once.’  I said I would never forget it and I have not.”–Aldebaran
The mob storms IKEA:
“time to flat pack the FÅNTØM”—missbuster
“So you’re saying Stolle should just squash the Phantom” —GlassPrism
“he comes apart for easy handling”—missbuster
“Get the Allen wrench”—madamefaust
Reactions to the Phantom after Christine’s final exit: 37 comments in 59 seconds
Sad comment is sad: We don’t even need the allen wrench, he came apart on his own.   –  madamefaust
Things I wish I had said:
“Moist Raoulette”—haunted-hideaway
“no Tol Raol Pol?”—missbuster,  at not seeing Raoul boating away post Final Lair
“No Stolle Tolle Rolle Polle?”—missbuster, with continued disappointment                          
Dreams do come true:
You know.  If you had told 14 year old me that in the future I could watch Phantom EVERY WEEKEND I would have died on the spot—missbuster
Statistician Aldebaran’s two no three favorite personal quotes:   
re: Jöback “He crawls with an accent”
 “Raoul conveniently wore a ladder jacket to make it easier for Christine to climb” 
 “Erik is just in a perpetual state of PONR”
Thank you as always for the submission, kind statistician Aldebaran!
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thecupcakeconsumer · 7 years ago
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Seeing Red pt. 3 - Insurrection
A/N: With this this little serial is 60% done! I have two parts left – none as action packed as this, they're mostly fluff, but hey, who doesn't love fluff? This one is the continuation of Seeing Red, as you can tell from the title. 
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (You are here!) | Part 4 | Part 5
Request: Continuation of @writers-block0o0's request!
Navigation: Masterlist is here.
Taglist: @writers-block0o0, @imaginesbyemma. Tell me if you want to be added.
Summary: Serving as a member of the Trinity – which, ironically enough, contains four people – you're dragged into things you never wanted to do under your half-brother. Soon it gets to be too much.
Warnings: Okay! This one is pretty intense. Matches and gasoline with implication that they're to be used for arson. Language – the word “asshole”, “asshat”, “ass”, twice “shit”, and “damn”. Use of God's name in vain, guns, gun fire, blood, violence, unhealthy family relationships, and slight PTSD. Angst. Really all-in-all just bad.
Word Count: 3,000
Other Notes: Female reader, and also, this one takes place during Terminal. J'espère que vous l'aimerez – I hope you'll like it! I wrote this really damn fast but I think it's good. I ALSO FORGOT SOME CRUCIAL PLOT DETAILS IN THE ORIGINAL DRAFT FORGIVE ME IF YOU CATCH ANYTHING WEIRD.
“There's a reason Cole sounds like asshole,” you grumbled to Chance as he drove you to another infuriating, obscure location for another infuriating, meaningless job.
He nodded. “He's not the most stellar, personality-wise.”
“Understatement of the century.”
“Live with it, Y/N.”
He parked, and you got out of the car, wincing as the Trinity member's wolf whistle met your ears.
You chanced a glance at your brother, wondering what his reaction would be.
“She's taken, asshat,” bit out the older Claybourne, eyes flashing.
“Doesn't mean I can't admire the only good thing your father's made.”
Exasperated, you stalked across the grass to Cole, grabbing him roughly by his shirt collar.
“Mmmmm, you're a woman with-”
Whatever he was about to say, you would never know, because your fist meeting his face effectively silenced his next words.
“Damn, no need for violence,” he muttered, rubbing his cheek with a scowl.
“Compliment me again and I'll be sure I flare before I hit you,” you threatened with a smile, relishing the horror that his expression morphed to show.
That aside, you begrudgingly got to work.
You wished that was the worst thing you had ever had to do.
You would be wrong.
“I can't do this. Don't make me do this.”
Backed into a corner, you knew that you had no choice.
What would Chance do if you didn't obey? It didn't matter what he did to you.
If you didn't go along with this, your best friends in the world could die.
But if you did, they would be devastated.
“Take the car. There's gasoline and matches in there. Don't crash it.”
You winced, not sure whether his concern was for you or for the car. “Okay. I'll do it.”
“I'll take care of Tory. Make it quick.”
And with that, he placed the car keys in your hand and left through the front door.
“This isn't legal,” you murmured, before making your way to where the car was parked and unlocking the door. “This isn't right.”
“This isn't what I signed up for.”
But if it was what it took…
It was difficult to be inconspicuous when you had to reach the island by boat while carrying flammables, but you had managed.
It was difficult to find again the bunker, especially in the dark, but that you had also managed.
Dousing the belongings of your best friends in the world with gasoline after they had taken you into their secret hangout spot and shown you how significant it was to them?
Something it was proving exceedingly difficult for you to manage.
Taking your phone out of your pocket, your finger hovered over the names in your contacts, wanting nothing more than to talk to someone.
You couldn't call Tory. That would have been your first bet, but she was with Chance, if he was to be believed.
Hi's name had a heart next to it, and you smiled lightly, before having the happiness fall from your face as you realized that he would be the last person you'd want to see you like this, no matter the reason.
Ella wouldn't understand. She'd just do it herself.
Chance? Never.
Ben would be less understanding than Ella. He'd never forgive you if he-
“Y/N?”
You whipped around to the source of the noise, the matchbox tumbling from your grip and your phone almost joining it.
“Ben, I can ex-”
“You're in the bunker. Alone.”
Shit.
“Again, I can-”
“You have a match box.”
“Ben, I-”
“You're one of them.”
He crossed the room, the way he stalked silently reminding you of a predator as he closed in.
“It's not what you think.”
The laugh that escaped Ben's lips was harsh, cutting the thick air and slicing through to your heart. “You know what? I get it.”
“Wh-what?”
“You wanted to be something more. You wanted to be special. So you decided to do something you knew was wrong to be seen as a hero when you fixed it.”
“That's not it at all!” you retorted. “I didn't have a choice.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? I don't exactly see anyone here forcing you to try and burn down the bunker.”
“It wasn't my fault!” you cried frantically.
Quieter, you repeated the words, trying to convince yourself that they were true.
Hoping that they were true, because that was the only thing holding you together.
“He did this to me.”
“Who?”
“He's the one who made me this.”
“Y/N. Who is he?”
“He did this to me! My own brother!”
He didn't get it. Of course not.
“He made me this monster.”
SNAP
Your emotions spiraling out of control, your discipline over your flare finally gave way, your more alert red-eyed gaze catching how Ben's resolve seemed to shatter just from examining his face.
“Monster?” he repeated, a rare tinge of pain accenting the word.
Footsteps pounded from outside, and the two of you turned, red eyes telling you who it was before the rest registered.
Shit.
“I thought my instructions were clear.”
“I'm sorry,” you whispered. “Where's-?”
“I trusted you.”
“They're my friends! They're my family. Not that you'd know what that means.” Feelings suppressed for so long came to the surface, the bottle of emotion suddenly spilling over. “They love me. You never did. If you loved me, you wouldn't have made me-”
Wouldn't have forced me to go against the people who actually do love me, you wanted to finish, but he started to reach for a bulge at his hip, the gun he pulled out one you could never have prepared for. “You've left me no choice.”
Chance's face blurred into that of the Gamemaster, your memory of the experience and the gun he had held to your head resurfacing as panic set in.
You scrambled away from the person your traumatized mind tried to convince you was the same psychopath who had done horrible things to you, reality becoming obscured with the fear setting into your system.
Pulse racing, you blinked rapidly, not able to fully comprehend what was happening, overwhelmed as your mind betrayed you.
A flash of red hair and a sharp crack of the gun had hardly registered before you were shoved to the ground.
Tory.
It was all moving too fast, too fast for it to register, too fast for you to come back to reality, too fast for you to do anything to stop what was happening.
Tory rolled off of you, clutching a hand to her arm as your eyes, now seeing clearly, sought out Chance to see if he had any remorse for what he had just done.
To see if there was any part of him that was still human.
He looked down at the gun in his hand, something seeming to shift in his expression, and then his gaze flicked to the red starting to bloom on Tory's sleeve.
With his flare now gone, the pain in his eyes was no longer obscured.
I didn't want it to come to this, his expression seemed to say, as he cast away the gun as if it were a snake.
You couldn't help but wonder if he'd have had the same reaction to having realized he had shot you.
“I'll kill you,” hissed Ben, alerting you to the presence you had almost forgotten, anger making its presence known in the baring of his teeth, the narrowing of his eyes, the way his entire posture had shifted.
But Chance was silent, as if accepting his fate.
Something inside him had broken, and you could only hope that it was the part of him that had stopped being human.
“Let's go, Y/N.”
He left the room without another word, taking your following him for granted.
You didn't follow.
“Are you okay, Tory?” you asked quietly, the smell of blood flooding your nostrils.
She smiled painfully. “Superficial wound, really. I'll be fine. What's up with your eyes?”
Summoning the control you had fought so hard to gain, you released your flare.
SNUP
Concern took its place.
“We'll worry about that later. Are there bandages in here?”
Ben stole out of the room, coming back a moment later with a first aid kit.
“I've got her, Y/N. I… I think it might be best if you got home.”
I don't think I can bear it if you stay was what he didn't add. The lack of conviction in his voice scared you more than if he had yelled at you.
“I agree,” you replied, “but I'm not quite ready to go to a home with nothing between Chance and I.” You managed a smile. “Besides. I think we're going to have to take Tory's shirt off in order to treat this, and it's a little early in your relationship for you to see that, don't you think?”
Tory giggled at the look on his face. You couldn't blame her.
But it quickly returned to the serious expression that he wore so well as he nodded. “How are you getting home?”
You shrugged. “I'd say the same way I got here, but I'm assuming Chance took that.”
“Call me when you're done.”
Watching his shadow retreat, you turned back to Tory.
“I had no idea,” she said quietly, “that Chance was like that.”
You nodded as you pushed away her shaking hands, taking over the job of unbuttoning her shirt for her. “He's a complicated man.”
“He's been experimenting, hasn't he? And he dragged you into it?”
“Something of the sort,” you answered quietly, grimacing when the shirt started to stick, saturated with blood as it was. “Tell me if I'm hurting you.”
“How long have you been… like this?”
Infected, she doesn't say, because she seems to know it's like a plague to you.
“Remember when I puked in the toilet at school and you basically asked if I was pregnant?”
Her eyes widened in realization. “I should have seen it.”
“How could you have? There was nothing to suggest it was more than a flu, and besides, weren't you under the impression that it died with Karsten?”
“Chance flared in front of us, though. I should have known there would be others.”
You frowned. “He did?”
“You didn't know? That's why he's been spending so much time with us.”
“He has?”
Tory nodded, her eyes pained. “Recently, you've been drifting away. He's sort of filled in that gap – not that, not that he could ever replace you, but-”
“I get it.”
And get it you did.
All those missions that he'd sent you on, all those times stalking your friends and moving rocks and staking out territory.
All those interactions with Ella, having to ignore her hatred of Tory, with Will’s delusion that he was the leader and his pretending that Chance didn’t orchestrate all of the Trinity’s moves, with Cole’s comments on how “your brother's an ass and you've got a nice one, must run in the family”.
All those times you'd had to turn down invitations to hang out because of what had been planned.
Of course he'd have used it.
Of course he'd have gotten close to them.
He'd purposefully ripped out the stitching holding you into your friend group and sewn himself in with new threads weaved of lies and deceit.
Was it really to help them, or to get closer to the girl he was in love with?
You weren't sure you would ever know, nor that you wanted to.
Instead of letting the anger now forming beneath your skin rise to the surface, you funnelled the rage into focus as you dressed Tory's wound, seeing now that it was clean that the bullet had grazed her but not entered – shaving off the skin and making it look far worse than it was. You could handle this.
Thank God. After all, with your current state, it wasn't as if you could exactly take her to a hospital.
“Are you okay?”
You almost laughed at Tory's concern. “You got shot and you're asking me if I'm okay?”
“It's only physical, it'll heal,” she replied calmly. “You're finding out that your brother betrayed your trust and used you while simultaneously trying to replace you.”
“My trust? I've never trusted him. He's young. He's stupid. And until he realizes that, I won't give him the respect he thinks he deserves, simple as that.” You shrugged. “He's got a heart somewhere in there, I'm sure. He cares for me, his ambition just obscures it. And right now he's invested so much in one person that he's become less aware of others.”
You had never quite thought it through, but you found the words came easier than you would have expected, as if they’d been there all along.
“So it's… my fault,” she muttered.
“No,” you replied firmly. “You are what you love, not who loves you.”
“Deep.”
“It's a Fall Out Boy lyric.”
“Still deep.”
You pulled out your phone, smiling shyly to yourself. “You don't hate me?”
“Hate you? How could I hate you?” Tory laughed. “You're an awesome friend and I understand why you've been keeping this from us. We kept our flaring from you for the longest time. But you make us happy. You make Hi happy. Not that he's not constantly cheerful, but he's in love with you and you both want the same thing – to be loved and to be in love.”
“Deep.”
“It's a One Direction lyric.”
“Still deep.”
The two of you laughed as you dialled Ben, him picking up on the first ring.
“She'll live,” you announced as soon as you heard the ring fade.
“I'll be there in a minute.”
He hung up, leaving you in silence.
“So, I haven't talked to you in a while. Any juicy relationship gossip?”
She smirked. “Your brother is a good-”
“Shut up! Shut up!” You smacked her on the arm, laughing, time apart almost forgotten in the way you interacted.
At least she forgives me.
You could only hope that the rest of your friends could come to do the same.
“You control it really well.”
It had been awkwardly silent between you and Ben for the last few minutes, the boy you considered a brother obviously somewhat hurt by the fact that you had been keeping a secret from him, and his words surprised you.
“What?”
“Your flaring. You never lost control in front of us.”
You shrugged. “You guys just never made me mad enough.”
He chuckled lightly, the rare sound music to your ears.
“You must not have listened to Hi much recently, then. The man's running commentary is enough to make anyone homicidal.”
Ben was back, and you couldn't be more relieved that he was talking to you.
After all, when the man's coping strategy was “ignore until it goes away”, it demonstrated that he must have at least partially forgiven you.
“I didn't expect you to get it,” you confessed, wringing your hands in your lap.
“Please. I think I win the bad decisions that put my friends' lives in danger game.”
“I didn't put anyone's life in danger.”
“See? You're already losing.”
You laughed lightly at his bluntness, before asking, “Are you going to tell Hi?”
Ben exhaled loudly, turning away from you as he considered his response. “That's a tough question to answer. Is he going to see Tory's arm in the morning and ask what happened? Yes, he's too curious for his own damn good. Is Tory going to go into full detail and explain everything? That, I cannot say.”
He cast a side glance at you. “He's going to find out one way or another. Chance can't just hold on to the foolish idea that after that, we're not all going to know.
“The question is, are you ready to risk losing the love of your life by telling him this? Are you fully prepared to accept if he doesn't feel he can trust you any further and the two of you break up? Will you understand if he's hurt and keep your distance if he asks?”
Ben turned to look you in the eye. “I won't blame you if you avoid the problem. God knows I've done enough of it myself with Tory. I won't blame you if you stall so you're fully prepared for however he reacts. I won't blame you if you never say anything at all.” He shrugged. “I'm your friend no matter what. Even if I don't always act like it. And, quite frankly, I care about you too much for you to get hurt over this. Just because I get it doesn’t mean he will, much as he loves you.”
“Ben...” You didn't know how to react to his sudden shift in demeanor, so unrecognizable from his usual emotional detachment.
“Now mention that I said any of that and we're going to have a real problem.”
There was the Ben Blue you knew.
“Said any of what?”
“Exactly.”
Looking out on the gentle waves lit only by the moonlight, you felt everything, the weight of what you had done, catch up to you.
You would never approve of your own actions.
But at least you could accept them.
“I'm so tired,” you murmured to the salt water, leaning your head against the rail of Ben’s beloved Sewee.
You weren't sure how you'd face Hi in the morning, or how you could speak to Chance after what he'd done, and what he’d made you do - the wedge that he’d driven in between you and your friends, that you weren’t certain would ever be fully forgotten.
Meaningful thoughts blurred into meaningless words that started to overlap as you tuned in to the sounds of the boat's motor, adrenaline long gone from your system and your sleep deprivation catching up.
It wasn't long before you succumbed to the exhaustion, knowing that you were safe with Ben and, to be quite honest, relieved that you didn’t have to stay awake any longer.
A/N: Part four is here!
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superlative2sleep · 8 years ago
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Physics GRE & General GRE
Part 1 - Preparing to Study
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A) Used these materials:
1. Physics GRE
Jaan Altosaar’s How to Ace the GRE & Physics GRE
Alex Lang’s Physics GRE Advice
Dave Goldberg’s Physics GRE Advice
Rudelius Physics GRE Study Guide
Dror’s Comprehensive Physics GRE Study Guide
Trinity University’s Physics GRE Study Guide
http://grephysics.net/ans/
http://www.physicsgre.com/
2. General GRE
Quora’s Advice on the GRE
Kaplan GRE Study guide with 6 practice tests
More study guides/practice tests as needed
Magoosh GRE Vocabulary Flashcards App
B) Test Dates:
Revised GRE: August 5, 2017 (Tentative)
Physics GRE: September 16, 2017
Physics GRE: October 28, 2017
C) Schedule:
May 8 - Lay out schedule
May 13 - GRE practice exam 1
May 20 - PGRE practice exam (2001)
May 27 - GRE practice exam 2
June 10 - PGRE practice exam (1996)
June 17 - GRE practice exam 3
July 1 - GRE practice exam 4
July 8 - PGRE practice exam (1986)
July 15 - GRE practice exam 5
July 29 - GRE practice exam 6
August 5 - GRE EXAM
August 19 - PGRE practice exam (1992)
August 21 - GRE Scores Available Online
September 2 - PGRE practice exam (2008)
September 16 - PGRE EXAM
October 16 - PGRE Scores Available Online
October 28 - PGRE EXAM
November 27 - PGRE Scores Available Online
December 2 - GRE EXAM
D) Notes:
Schedule to be adjusted as needed
MIT’s page on the PGRE recommends taking the exam twice; they also recommend this book. I have requested a copy through my university’s interlibrary loan.  I went through all the reviews for the other Physics GRE study books, and I agree they are probably more trouble than they are worth, but I don’t think MIT would steer their students terribly wrong.  Although, many students here credit “Conquering the Physics GRE” for their stellar scores.  We’ll see.
I’m plotting all of these scores/practice tests/real tests on a graph.   (Because apparently my love for graphs is part of me being a nerd.)  It ended up having a log scale, which I find interesting, and also makes me wonder if this is the reason that the general GRE revised the scale in 2011 (a single individual’s data set is clearly visible by test, rather than having multiple overlapping trend lines.)
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merryjain12-blog · 6 years ago
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Global Urinalysis Market 2018 Industry Trends, Sales, Supply, Demand, Analysis, Growth Factor & Forecast to 2025
Global Urinalysis Market
Urinalysis is a series of tests of urine to diagnose a common condition or diseases. Urinalysis is generally done to diagnose chronic diseases in its early stage, such as diabetes, hepatitis, chronic kidney disease (CKD) and urinary bladder cancer. Biological tests like RBC’s, WBC’s, Bacteria, or crystal test, biochemical test like Acidity, or pH, Protein, Glucose, Bilirubin test are performed to diagnose different conditions. Dipstick test is performed to check the concentration of certain constituents present in the urine. Urinalysis is generally carried out in routine medical checkups, pregnancy tests and pre-surgical preparations to treat various ailments.
 Global Urinalysis Market According to Data Bridge Market Research new Market report, By Product Type (Consumables and Instruments),  By Test Type (Biochemical Urinalysis, Sediment Urinalysis), By Application (Disease Diagnosis, Pregnancy Tests)By End Users (Pharmaceutical and Biotechnology Companies and Others), By Geography (North America, South America, Europe, Asia-Pacific, Middle East and Africa) – Industry Trends and Forecast Period is projected to reach USD 2.54 Billion by 2025, at a CAGR of 7.30% during the forecast period of 2018 to 2025
 What Is the Essential of “Global Urinalysis Market” In Medical device Industry.? How It Is Increasing The Market Growth?
 The most common antibiotic treatment in kidney is urinary tract infection, its ratio is 1 is to 3 in women get. Cystitis is another common infection caused by the bacteria while other reasons responsible for this are radiotherapy and certain chemicals. Women are more prone to cystitis then males. Cystitis occurs generally in 4 out of 100 pregnant women.
 For Urinalysis, instruments and consumables such as reagent kits, rapid test kits, analyzers, dipsticks, containers, and pipettes are required.
  To Get a Sample Report @ http://databridgemarketresearch.com/request-a-sample/?dbmr=global-urinalysis-market
  Definition:  
The urinalysis test is a method to detect wide range of disorders like urinary infection, kidney diseases, and diabetes in the urine. It is a convenient and effective method to analyze urine sample to detect diabetes, urinary tract infection, and kidney diseases.
 For Customized Reports and Discounts, Mail us at @ [email protected]
 Major Market Competitors:
Some of the major players operating in urinalysis market are Beckman Coulter, Inc., Siemens AG, Sysmex Corporation, F. Hoffmann-La Roche Ltd, ARKRAY, Inc., Bio-Rad Laboratories, Inc., URIT Medical, Tecodiagnostics among others.
Segmentation:
The global market for Urinalysis by the following sub-categories is presented
·         By Product Type
   Dipstick
   Reagents
   Disposables
     Biochemical Urine Analyzers
   Automated Urine Sediment        Analyzers
   Point-Of-Care Devices
  ·         By Application
  Disease Diagnosis
  Pregnancy Tests
 ·         By Test Type
  Biochemical Urinalysis
  Sediment Urinalysis
 ·         By End Users
  Hospitals & Clinics
  Diagnostic Laboratories
  Research Laboratories and       Institutes
  Others
 ·         By Geography
  North America
  South America
  Europe
  Asia-Pacific
  Middle East and Africa
 Speak to our Analyst @ http://databridgemarketresearch.com/speak-to-analyst/?dbmr=global-urinalysis-market
Increasing Prevalence of Urinary tract Infection and Kidney Disease
Urinary tract infection is the most common infection of kidney which is diagnosed by urinalysis test. Febrile UTI is the most common UTI infection that occurs in Childhood. Around 1 in 10 girls and 1 in 30 boys develop UTI by the age of 16. Boys have higher incidence rate of UTI infection while girls have higher incidence rate of recurrent UTI infection. At the age of 7 around 3% girls and 1% boys develop upper UTI infection. Urinalysis market is booming because of the increase in prevalence of urinary tract infection and kidney diseases.
Increasing Geriatric Population
With increasing age, the body’s immune response stops responding and chances of getting bacterial infections or any diseases is very high. According to WHO, in 2015, the world geriatric population aged 60, was 900 Million and by 2050, it is expected to reach 2 billion. With growth in the geriatric population, the urinalysis market is also growing as the chances of getting bacterial infection or UTI infection is more in the elder population.
Some of the major players operating in global urinalysis are Beckman Coulter, Inc, Sysmex India Pvt. Ltd., Siemens Medical Solutions USA, Inc, ARKRAY USA, ACON Laboratories, Inc, Bio-Rad Laboratories, Inc lektronika Kft, Shenzhen Mindray Bio-Medical Electronics Co., Ltd, URIT Medical, F. Hoffman-La Roche Ltd.,, BAYER Healthcare, Kova International, Medline, Menarini, Smart Medical,, Stellar Scientific, Trinity Biotech, Analyticon Biotechnologies, BioPacific Diagnostic and among others
To View Full Sample Report @ https://databridgemarketresearch.com/reports/global-urinalysis-market/
Browse Related Reports:      
Global Urinalysis Market-, Global Urinalysis Market By Technology (Sequencing By Synthesis, Sequencing By, Pyrosequencing, Sanger Sequencing and Other Technologies), By Sequencing Method (Shotgun Sequencing, Targeted Gene Sequencing, RNA Sequencing, Whole Genome Sequencing and Other Applications), By Applications (Therapeutics, Genetic Screening, Drug and Biomarker discovery, Personalised Medicine and others), By Research Type (Outsourced and Internal), By End User (Pharmaceutical and Biotechnology Companies and Academia/Research Institutes), By Geography (Europe, North America, Asia-Pacific and Rest of the World )- Industry Trends and Forecast to 2024
https://databridgemarketresearch.com/reports/global-microbiome-sequencing-services-market/
Global Human Microbiome Market- Global Human Microbiome Market By Disease Type (Obesity, Cancer), Application (Therapeutic, Diagnostic), Product Type (Prebiotics, Food, Drugs), Type {(Product Research (Instruments, Consumables), Technology Research (HTS, Omics Technologies)}, Distribution Channel, End Users, Geography (North America, South America, Europe, Asia-Pacific, Middle East and Africa, Rest of the World) – Industry Trends and Forecast to 2024
https://databridgemarketresearch.com/reports/global-human-microbiome-market/
About Data Bridge Market Research:
Data Bridge Market Research set forth itself as an unconventional and neoteric Market research and consulting firm with unparalleled level of resilience and integrated approaches. We are determined to unearth the best market opportunities and foster efficient information for your business to thrive in the market. Data Bridge endeavors to provide appropriate solutions to the complex business challenges and initiates an effortless decision-making process.
Contact:
Data Bridge Market Research
Tel: +1-888-387-2818
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demitgibbs · 7 years ago
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What’s Hot Central Florida: November 2017
Friday, October 27
Southern Nights Orlando presents #FlexFridays’ “Nightmare on Bumby Halloween Party” with Halloween Costumes encouraged, as they invite everyone to enter their Halloween costume contest and win $1000 in cash and prizes (no toy weapons allowed). Doors open at 9pm with no cover before 11p.m. for 21 and over (18+ welcomed). The night will also feature drag shows at 11p.m. & 12:30a.m. with Roxy Andrews, Maya Andrews, Tasha Long & Chevelle Brooks with DJ Ants and DJ Walter Winston spinning all night!
Chhoy Sutimek presents Miami Dream Boyz Halloween Costume Party at Fuego Fridays at Southern Nights Tampa. They will also feature a $500 cash and prizes Halloween costume contest. The night will also feature performances by Latin diva’s: Angelique Padro AKA Lady Janet, Michelle Hernandez & Jasmine Jimenez, and music by DJ Mike El Bori.
The Dr Phillips Center in association with Live nation present the band Chicago who performs at in the Bob Carr Theater. Hailed as one of the “most important bands in music since the dawn of the rock and roll era” by former President Bill Clinton, the legendary rock and roll band with horns, Chicago, came in at #9, the highest charting American band in Billboard Magazine’s recent Hot 200 All-Time Top Artists. And Chicago is the first American rock band to chart Top 40 albums in six consecutive decades. Tickets start at $50.50, and are available at DrPhillipsCenter.org. You can also catch Chicago on Monday October 30 at the Van Wezel in Sarasotta . To purchase tickets go to VanWezel.org
Ten time GRAMMY-Award, three time Latin GRAMMY-Award winning rock icon and Rock and Roll Hall of Famer Carlos Santana and his band SANTANA will bring The Transmogrify Tour to Tampa’s AMALIE Arena at 8p.m. Tickets start at $66.25 and are available at: Amaliearena.com.
Saturday, October 28
You’ve seen them on the hit TV show, So You Think You Can Dance. Now you can see your favorite dancers in person when the Top 10 Finalists perform live at the Hard Rock Live Orlando at 8p.m. The all new tour, features finalists Dassy, Kaylee, Kiki, Koine, Lex, Logan, Mark, Robert, Sydney and Taylor plus All Stars Jasimin Harper and Marko Germar. The high energy dance tour will highlight your favorite numbers from Season 14 plus new surprises. Tickets start at $47.50. You can also catch them performing at the Van Wezel on Friday, November 3, where tickets start at $36.
The Parliament House features Orlando’s biggest costume contests with $5000 in cash to the best costume! Footlight Players take to the stage at 10p.m. in the theatre. DJ Brianna spins till 3a.m.  Admission is $10 in advance and $15 at the door.  18+ Welcome!!
The Flamingo Resort presents a Halloween costume contest party with $3,000 in cash and prizes with the winner getting $2,000 in cash. Sign up at the Cabana Stage at 10p.m. with the show hosted by Iman and the Blu Theater players at 11:30 p.m.
Tuesday, October 31
The Parliament House features Orlando’s biggest costume contests with $3000 in cash to the best costume! DJ Brianna spins till 2a.m.  Admission is $10 in advance and $15 at the door.  18+ Welcome!!
Mary Horror Picture Show at Hamburger Mary’s Ybor. Join the fabulous staff at Hamburger Mary’s on Halloween for a Rocky Horror Picture Show viewing at 7:30p.m. There will be an audience judged costume contest and other goodies throughout the evening.
Southern Nights Orlando’s #Twisted Tuesdays presents a Monster’s Eve, a Halloween Party where Halloween costumes are encouraged (no toy weapons allowed). Doors open at 9p.m., but you have to enter through side door. Their costume contest will be at 1a.m., and they will also feature Karaoke in the show bar, and a talent contest at 12a.m. No Cover before 11 p.m. for 21 and over (18+ welcome).
Wednesday, November 1
Join the Southern Nights Tampa crew for So You Think You Can Drag Semi Finals 7 Deadly Sins Theme, hosted by Jade Embers and Gia Banks. Watch all of the previous winners compete and enter to win a $250 cash prize plus a booking for Swank Saturdays! No cover for 21 and over (18+ welcomed).
Thursday, November 2
Living comedy legend, John Cleese, is heading to The Straz for a live and truly unforgettable evening of conversation and audience Q&A. Only absurd and/or ridiculous questions are requested, please. John will tell stories of his life and career, and you just may finally find out the air-speed of an unladen swallow. Before John walks his way on to the stage, the excitement will build as the audience will get to watch Monty Python and the Holy Grail in its entirety on the big screen starting at 7:30 p.m. Don’t miss your chance to see the man who has achieved nothing short of comedy royalty in this thrill-of-a-lifetime evening. Tickets start at $55.
Friday, November 3
Southern Nights Tampa presents their monthly NeiBEARhood Takeover, with this month’s theme being #Daddyissues. The night will feature DJ JB Burgos and a 12a.m. performance by Bearonce Bear (Anthony Chiocchi).
The Flamingo Resort presents, direct from Season 9 of RuPaul’s Drag Race, Trinity Taylor at 11:30p.m. The show will also feature: Kathryn Nevets, Ashlee T Bangkx, and Conundrum. Trinity will also do a Meet & Greet after the show.
Saturday, November 4 
The annual Pride in Business Awards Gala takes place at Rosen Shingle Creek from 7:30p.m.-11p.m. Presented by Wells Fargo, the annual Pride in Business Awards Gala is hosted by Come Out With Pride and MBA Orlando to highlight the Orlando community’s stellar performers in business, leadership and service. Awards are presented by distinguished community leaders during an incredible full course dinner and fabulous entertainment. The Gala also includes a silent auction, a special sponsor only pre-dinner reception, and an awesome after party.
Wednesday, November 8 
Miracle of Love’s signature fundraising event, Project Red takes place at the Parliament House from 7-10p.m. and infuses art, fashion and talent while bringing awareness of HIV/AIDS and the services of the agency. It is an art experience with a collaboration of artists working in diverse mediums expressing their interpretation of the color red.
Orlando Drag Race Live Finale takes place at Southern Nights Orlando. The time has come to finally Crown the #ODRL season 4 Winner!!  Doors open at 9p.m., with event starting at 10:30 p.m. presented by Kitana Gemini and hosted by PePe. Admission is $10.
Thursday, November 9
Travis Wall’s Shaping Sound: After the Curtain takes place at the Straz Center for the Performing Center at 8 p.m. Under the artistic direction of Emmy Award winner, Travis Wall, and co-created with Nick Lazzarini, Teddy Forance and Kyle Robinson, Shaping Sound is an electrifying mash-up of dance styles and musical genres brought fully to life on stage by a dynamic company of contemporary dancers. In After the Curtain, these visual musicians return to The Straz to dazzle audiences as they tell the story of a man fighting to find his creative voice after the death of his one true love. Heart-wrenching, breathtaking and ultimately uplifting, this is one dance show that audiences will remember forever. Tickets start at $39.75. For more information see the feature in this month’s Hotspots Central with an exclusive interview with Nick or go to StrazCenter.org.
The Flamingo Resort presents Brotherhood of Bears Weekend 2017 from today until November 12. Some of the major events scheduled are: Dra Queen Bingo, Underwear Night, Meet the Bears, Country Line Dancing, Cigar & Whiskey Social, bears in Drag, Bears Pool Party, Glow Party and the Flamingo’s famous Sunday T dance.
Saturday, November 11
The Dr. Phillips Center for the Performing Arts presents La La Land in concert. Experience the original musical film like never before with a live symphony orchestra! Winner of six Academy Awards including Best Original Score and Best Original Song, La La Land tells the story of Mia (Emma Stone), an aspiring actress, and Sebastian (Ryan Gosling), a dedicated jazz musician, who are struggling to make ends meet in a city known for crushing hopes and breaking hearts. Set in modern-day Los Angeles, this original musical explores the joy and pain of pursuing your dreams. Show time is 8p.m. with tickets starting at $35.
The Parliament House presents another one of their famous themed parties entitled: Candyland. The night will star international DJ sensation Kidd Madonny and direct from South Florida, TP Lords.
Direct from Broadway, Adam Trent, the breakout star of the world’s best-selling magic show The Illusionists, brings his signature brand of magic and illusion to the Straz Center for this 90-minute spectacle. Produced by the same creative team behind The Illusionists brand, Adam Trent’s production is an immersive entertainment extravaganza of magic, comedy and music perfect for the entire family. Don’t miss the next generation of magic! Tickets start at $35.
Saturday, November 18
The Parliament House presents, direct from Season 9 of RuPaul’s Drag Race, Valentina, with the Footlight Players. They will also feature a VIP/Photo opportunity for $20.
Tuesday, November 21
TIGLFF presents The Death & Life of Marsha P. Johnson at Hillsborough Community College – Ybor Campus. When the beloved, self-described “street queen” of NY’s Christopher Street was found floating in the Hudson River in 1992, the NYPD called her death a suicide. Protests erupted but the police remained impassive and refused to investigate. Twenty-five years later, Academy Award nominated director and journalist David France examines Marsha’s death—and her extraordinary life—in his new film. Showtime is at 7:30 p.m. with a $15 admission.
The Dr. Phillips Center for the Performing Arts presents Love Never Dies: The Phantom Returns from today until November 26. This story of boundless love, full of passion and drama, follows Andrew Lloyd Webber’s The Phantom of the Opera, one of the most successful musicals of all time, which has now been seen by more than 130 million people worldwide and is the winner of over 50 international awards. The ultimate love story continues in Love Never Dies, Andrew Lloyd Webber’s spellbinding sequel to The Phantom of the Opera. Tickets start at $34.25. For more information see the feature in this month’s edition of Hotspots Central, including an exclusive interview with one of the main actors, or go to DrPhillipsCenter.org.
from Hotspots! Magazine https://hotspotsmagazine.com/2017/10/26/whats-hot-central-florida-november-2017/ from Hot Spots Magazine https://hotspotsmagazine.tumblr.com/post/166819962145
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hotspotsmagazine · 7 years ago
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What’s Hot Central Florida: November 2017
Friday, October 27
Southern Nights Orlando presents #FlexFridays’ “Nightmare on Bumby Halloween Party” with Halloween Costumes encouraged, as they invite everyone to enter their Halloween costume contest and win $1000 in cash and prizes (no toy weapons allowed). Doors open at 9pm with no cover before 11p.m. for 21 and over (18+ welcomed). The night will also feature drag shows at 11p.m. & 12:30a.m. with Roxy Andrews, Maya Andrews, Tasha Long & Chevelle Brooks with DJ Ants and DJ Walter Winston spinning all night!
Chhoy Sutimek presents Miami Dream Boyz Halloween Costume Party at Fuego Fridays at Southern Nights Tampa. They will also feature a $500 cash and prizes Halloween costume contest. The night will also feature performances by Latin diva’s: Angelique Padro AKA Lady Janet, Michelle Hernandez & Jasmine Jimenez, and music by DJ Mike El Bori.
The Dr Phillips Center in association with Live nation present the band Chicago who performs at in the Bob Carr Theater. Hailed as one of the “most important bands in music since the dawn of the rock and roll era” by former President Bill Clinton, the legendary rock and roll band with horns, Chicago, came in at #9, the highest charting American band in Billboard Magazine’s recent Hot 200 All-Time Top Artists. And Chicago is the first American rock band to chart Top 40 albums in six consecutive decades. Tickets start at $50.50, and are available at DrPhillipsCenter.org. You can also catch Chicago on Monday October 30 at the Van Wezel in Sarasotta . To purchase tickets go to VanWezel.org
Ten time GRAMMY-Award, three time Latin GRAMMY-Award winning rock icon and Rock and Roll Hall of Famer Carlos Santana and his band SANTANA will bring The Transmogrify Tour to Tampa’s AMALIE Arena at 8p.m. Tickets start at $66.25 and are available at: Amaliearena.com.
Saturday, October 28
You’ve seen them on the hit TV show, So You Think You Can Dance. Now you can see your favorite dancers in person when the Top 10 Finalists perform live at the Hard Rock Live Orlando at 8p.m. The all new tour, features finalists Dassy, Kaylee, Kiki, Koine, Lex, Logan, Mark, Robert, Sydney and Taylor plus All Stars Jasimin Harper and Marko Germar. The high energy dance tour will highlight your favorite numbers from Season 14 plus new surprises. Tickets start at $47.50. You can also catch them performing at the Van Wezel on Friday, November 3, where tickets start at $36.
The Parliament House features Orlando’s biggest costume contests with $5000 in cash to the best costume! Footlight Players take to the stage at 10p.m. in the theatre. DJ Brianna spins till 3a.m.  Admission is $10 in advance and $15 at the door.  18+ Welcome!!
The Flamingo Resort presents a Halloween costume contest party with $3,000 in cash and prizes with the winner getting $2,000 in cash. Sign up at the Cabana Stage at 10p.m. with the show hosted by Iman and the Blu Theater players at 11:30 p.m.
Tuesday, October 31
The Parliament House features Orlando’s biggest costume contests with $3000 in cash to the best costume! DJ Brianna spins till 2a.m.  Admission is $10 in advance and $15 at the door.  18+ Welcome!!
Mary Horror Picture Show at Hamburger Mary’s Ybor. Join the fabulous staff at Hamburger Mary’s on Halloween for a Rocky Horror Picture Show viewing at 7:30p.m. There will be an audience judged costume contest and other goodies throughout the evening.
Southern Nights Orlando’s #Twisted Tuesdays presents a Monster’s Eve, a Halloween Party where Halloween costumes are encouraged (no toy weapons allowed). Doors open at 9p.m., but you have to enter through side door. Their costume contest will be at 1a.m., and they will also feature Karaoke in the show bar, and a talent contest at 12a.m. No Cover before 11 p.m. for 21 and over (18+ welcome).
Wednesday, November 1
Join the Southern Nights Tampa crew for So You Think You Can Drag Semi Finals 7 Deadly Sins Theme, hosted by Jade Embers and Gia Banks. Watch all of the previous winners compete and enter to win a $250 cash prize plus a booking for Swank Saturdays! No cover for 21 and over (18+ welcomed).
Thursday, November 2
Living comedy legend, John Cleese, is heading to The Straz for a live and truly unforgettable evening of conversation and audience Q&A. Only absurd and/or ridiculous questions are requested, please. John will tell stories of his life and career, and you just may finally find out the air-speed of an unladen swallow. Before John walks his way on to the stage, the excitement will build as the audience will get to watch Monty Python and the Holy Grail in its entirety on the big screen starting at 7:30 p.m. Don’t miss your chance to see the man who has achieved nothing short of comedy royalty in this thrill-of-a-lifetime evening. Tickets start at $55.
Friday, November 3
Southern Nights Tampa presents their monthly NeiBEARhood Takeover, with this month’s theme being #Daddyissues. The night will feature DJ JB Burgos and a 12a.m. performance by Bearonce Bear (Anthony Chiocchi).
The Flamingo Resort presents, direct from Season 9 of RuPaul’s Drag Race, Trinity Taylor at 11:30p.m. The show will also feature: Kathryn Nevets, Ashlee T Bangkx, and Conundrum. Trinity will also do a Meet & Greet after the show.
Saturday, November 4 
The annual Pride in Business Awards Gala takes place at Rosen Shingle Creek from 7:30p.m.-11p.m. Presented by Wells Fargo, the annual Pride in Business Awards Gala is hosted by Come Out With Pride and MBA Orlando to highlight the Orlando community’s stellar performers in business, leadership and service. Awards are presented by distinguished community leaders during an incredible full course dinner and fabulous entertainment. The Gala also includes a silent auction, a special sponsor only pre-dinner reception, and an awesome after party.
Wednesday, November 8 
Miracle of Love’s signature fundraising event, Project Red takes place at the Parliament House from 7-10p.m. and infuses art, fashion and talent while bringing awareness of HIV/AIDS and the services of the agency. It is an art experience with a collaboration of artists working in diverse mediums expressing their interpretation of the color red.
Orlando Drag Race Live Finale takes place at Southern Nights Orlando. The time has come to finally Crown the #ODRL season 4 Winner!!  Doors open at 9p.m., with event starting at 10:30 p.m. presented by Kitana Gemini and hosted by PePe. Admission is $10.
Thursday, November 9
Travis Wall’s Shaping Sound: After the Curtain takes place at the Straz Center for the Performing Center at 8 p.m. Under the artistic direction of Emmy Award winner, Travis Wall, and co-created with Nick Lazzarini, Teddy Forance and Kyle Robinson, Shaping Sound is an electrifying mash-up of dance styles and musical genres brought fully to life on stage by a dynamic company of contemporary dancers. In After the Curtain, these visual musicians return to The Straz to dazzle audiences as they tell the story of a man fighting to find his creative voice after the death of his one true love. Heart-wrenching, breathtaking and ultimately uplifting, this is one dance show that audiences will remember forever. Tickets start at $39.75. For more information see the feature in this month’s Hotspots Central with an exclusive interview with Nick or go to StrazCenter.org.
The Flamingo Resort presents Brotherhood of Bears Weekend 2017 from today until November 12. Some of the major events scheduled are: Dra Queen Bingo, Underwear Night, Meet the Bears, Country Line Dancing, Cigar & Whiskey Social, bears in Drag, Bears Pool Party, Glow Party and the Flamingo’s famous Sunday T dance.
Saturday, November 11
The Dr. Phillips Center for the Performing Arts presents La La Land in concert. Experience the original musical film like never before with a live symphony orchestra! Winner of six Academy Awards including Best Original Score and Best Original Song, La La Land tells the story of Mia (Emma Stone), an aspiring actress, and Sebastian (Ryan Gosling), a dedicated jazz musician, who are struggling to make ends meet in a city known for crushing hopes and breaking hearts. Set in modern-day Los Angeles, this original musical explores the joy and pain of pursuing your dreams. Show time is 8p.m. with tickets starting at $35.
The Parliament House presents another one of their famous themed parties entitled: Candyland. The night will star international DJ sensation Kidd Madonny and direct from South Florida, TP Lords.
Direct from Broadway, Adam Trent, the breakout star of the world’s best-selling magic show The Illusionists, brings his signature brand of magic and illusion to the Straz Center for this 90-minute spectacle. Produced by the same creative team behind The Illusionists brand, Adam Trent’s production is an immersive entertainment extravaganza of magic, comedy and music perfect for the entire family. Don’t miss the next generation of magic! Tickets start at $35.
Saturday, November 18
The Parliament House presents, direct from Season 9 of RuPaul’s Drag Race, Valentina, with the Footlight Players. They will also feature a VIP/Photo opportunity for $20.
Tuesday, November 21
TIGLFF presents The Death & Life of Marsha P. Johnson at Hillsborough Community College – Ybor Campus. When the beloved, self-described “street queen” of NY’s Christopher Street was found floating in the Hudson River in 1992, the NYPD called her death a suicide. Protests erupted but the police remained impassive and refused to investigate. Twenty-five years later, Academy Award nominated director and journalist David France examines Marsha’s death—and her extraordinary life—in his new film. Showtime is at 7:30 p.m. with a $15 admission.
The Dr. Phillips Center for the Performing Arts presents Love Never Dies: The Phantom Returns from today until November 26. This story of boundless love, full of passion and drama, follows Andrew Lloyd Webber’s The Phantom of the Opera, one of the most successful musicals of all time, which has now been seen by more than 130 million people worldwide and is the winner of over 50 international awards. The ultimate love story continues in Love Never Dies, Andrew Lloyd Webber’s spellbinding sequel to The Phantom of the Opera. Tickets start at $34.25. For more information see the feature in this month’s edition of Hotspots Central, including an exclusive interview with one of the main actors, or go to DrPhillipsCenter.org.
from Hotspots! Magazine https://hotspotsmagazine.com/2017/10/26/whats-hot-central-florida-november-2017/
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capricornus-rex · 4 years ago
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In the Face of Fear (4)
Tumblr media
Cal Kestis x Reader
Requested by @stellar-trinity​
Summary: Kashyyyk has its own charms and surprises, but what if one of those said surprises rear its ugly, unpleasant head right in front of you in the form of a spider that’s the size of a boulder?
Tags: Arachnophobia, Wyyyschokk, Matriarch Wyyyschokk, Kashyyyk, Arachnophobic! Reader
A/N: My bad! Realized just now that I didn’t put the links of the chapters! ;;;A;;; So sorry!
Also in AO3
Chapters: 1 – 2 | Previous: Part 3 | Next: Part 5 | Masterlist
4 of ?
The glow of your lightsabers have either attracted or irritated them enough to make them crawl out of those holes in the wall.
Literally back to back with one another, you and Cal are being circled by the spiders. There are at least five closing the ring.
“BEE, BEE-TRIIILL!!” shrilled a panicked BD-1.
“I know, I know! I see them!” you shrieked back.
Your fighting grip falters around your saber, your swings are flimsy, and your strikes bore little damage—it could only graze their hides and anger them more, which is never good. One Wyyyschokk had its head full of eyes on you, flickering its mandibles with a gluttonous excitement, it lured closer while you backed away. The normal-sized ones were somewhat less of a challenge for you to overcome your phobia, still a challenge nonetheless. You’re only hoping the mother doesn’t show up and get itself involved.
Cal cut through their numbers effortlessly. You envied him. Envied the fact that these arachnids don’t bother him to the same degree as they do to you. Fighting these humongous crawlers felt taxing, though you still fought them to get it over with; when this wave finally settled, the two of you went on the move, going in blind into their labyrinthine dwelling.
“This way!”
“Are you sure?!”
“I know it!”
Holding his saber over his head, Cal leads the way—twisting and turning, you don’t know anymore if you’ve turned left or right this time but you still followed him. Hope burning within you that both of you will get out of this horrendous place alive soon. The two of you continued running, hand-in-hand, you looking out for the rear while he takes the lead; eventually, you got to the edge, and hopped along the rock platforms which vaguely resembled the path to the Gorgara’s pit in Dathomir.
“We’re just going further in!” you gasped at the realization.
“Don’t worry, there’s surely a way out,” reassured the boy.
There was barely any light in the deeper pit that you’ve jumped into. You strained your neck, tilting up to examine the area, searching for any visible opening that could serve as a way out, until you found one—high up in the ceiling of the cave is a rabbit hole of sorts.
“Look overt here!” you pointed to the cave’s oculus.
Cal scanned the hole and its surroundings, planning out the climb route. He knows you’re not equipped with climbing claws, instead you’re armed with a grappling hook appendaged to your gauntlet. You were doing the same thing: mapping out where to shoot the hook.
“There’s a small enough ledge I can perch on. From there, I can wire my way through...” you paused. “I think.”
He shot you a look that easily translates to “You think?” and he stares at you for a considerable amount of seconds until you look back at him, throwing back a look that responds as “What?”
“It’s doable!” you argued.
“I don’t doubt that,”
As you navigate around the deeper pit, something about it gives off a different ambience. Waving your saber around, you notice that the tree bark and the walls made out of rock were dappled with silky, white wisps. You even shone a light on animal carcasses and insect husks—you even spotted the remains of what ought to be a juvenile Tach.
“Trill... Beeep...”
I know, BD-1, we’re getting out of here sooner than you think,” Cal calmed the droid on his shoulder.
Looking around some more, you find more and more animal carcasses—many of which have fallen prey to a trap that rendered them immobile and defenseless against the monstrosity that created such an elaborate trap.
“This is no cave,” you said as-a-matter-of-factly. “This is a nest.”
Cal held his head up, using his saber as a torchlight, and absentmindedly spun around to register that it is indeed a nest. However, his ankle slighted backwards, the heel of his boot sticking to the web-trap laced with a viscous adhesive; strings of the substance formed between his shoe and the soil, hindering his footsteps. He didn’t feel it in the first few inches, only did he realize he was in trouble and the Wyyyschokk that had been lurking and following you around had gotten him in its grasp before he could alert you.
His grunt caused you to turn around and just when you think this day couldn’t get any worse, the Wyyyschokk that got him is the Matriarch Wyyyschokk.
“[Y/N]!!” Cal cracked, squirming in its coiled legs around his body.
Poor Cal saw his life flashing before his eyes, he could see it all replaying past the wide-open maws and fangs of the great Wyyyschokk. For a moment, he knew what your phobia felt like, and had a deeper understanding of it. The sheer horror overtook him and rendered his throat voiceless.
You melted to the muddy floor, you knees have lost their foundation, and your senses have dulled with your eyes glued to the monster. You blindly patted the soil, searching for anything, holding your unwanted gaze at the vibrant, prismatic color of the spider like that of a crow to a shiny trinket.
As the Matriarch Wyyyschokk slowly puts her would-be prey closer to her mouth, a hard, solid thump interrupted her—you had picked up a stone and lobbed it, hitting her head. When she turned around to face you, the creature was expressionless but somehow you can feel that wave of wrath gradually boiling within her.
“Oh damn it!” you immediately regretted it and scrambled to your feet, your heels failing to hold themselves upright, along with the wet soil not being very helpful.
You attempt to outrun the Matriarch Wyyyschokk at the last second; knowing full well that you’re literally an arm’s reach, the spider stretches out her free leg to your direction. It’s a twisted imagining to think of her holding these two humans and wave them about like dolls.
Saber in hand, you thumbed the switch. A radiant beam of light wildly growling out of the emitter. You could almost feel the hair of the Matriarch’s leg just centimeters away from your spine; with one swing of your arm, in result, she lost hers. The mother spider reared back in pain, though, remarkably, she was able to keep a firm grip on Cal—she just thrashed him around, suspended in mid-air, her swerving throes dizzied the poor boy.
You crawled into a thicket the size of a bramble bush, offering enough protection from being grappled by the Wyyyschokk, but you wouldn’t leave Cal behind. While the Matriarch was distracted in trying to claw you out of the thicket, Cal had finally broken out of her grip and scrambled away himself. Immediately igniting his saber, he watched the lumbering beast of an arachnid look at her now-empty leg, turn around in search of her prey, and hiss angrily at him for escaping.
Now that the Matriarch isn’t after you, it’s the perfect time to get out. Cal was holding out on his own just fine, but you knew you had to help him—the intent is there, but your fear was the main hindrance of you doing so. Cal turned to you.
“[Y/N], get to safety! I can handle this!”
“No, I’m not leaving you!”
While the two of you argued, the Matriatch Wyyyschokk—which is too smart for an animal—took the opportunity of her preys being distracted with each other and quick tucked her legs closer to her fangs, they moved with great precision and speed. The glands just underneath the spider’s jugular were doing its work, excreting a substance that’s greenish-white and thin as string, her amputated leg was still capable of holding it while the other spun and spindled the threads.
It was too late when Cal returned his attention to the spider. At the last minute, the Matriarch Wyyyschokk lobbed her spooled creation towards the boy—instantly trapping him in a cocoon of her own web. He discovers the material to be stronger and thicker than the regular Wyyyschokks’ thus harder to break out of. He can’t even move his fingers to get to the switch of his saber!
You shrieked out Cal’s name; he squirmed as he plopped to the ground, essentially helpless and immobile—like the remains of prey during their final hours—the Matriarch must have thought she’s finally resolved this one nuisance. The spider closes in on the cocooned redhead writing on the floor, when she towered over the Jedi boy, he felt like the only thing that could break out of this silky prison is his wildly beating heart. In the spur of a moment, you threw yourself between the Matriarch’s jaws and Cal, and deflected her as she was about to lunge and sink her thick fangs into the boy. Effectively, your saber singed her mandibles and perhaps the roof of her mouth when she “bit” into the blade. The Wyyyschokk stepped back in a fit of burning pain, while doing so, you turned to Cal and figured out how you’re gonna get him out of there.
You broke one of the most fundamental rule of fighting.
Never turn your back on the enemy—until it’s truly dead.
“The web’s too thick!”
You straightened your back while kneeling and held your saber mere inches over his body, “Stay still so I don’t burn you!”
“W-Wait!” he fretted, his clear green irises popping out of the whites of his eyes.
“Don’t worry, I got a steady grip,” you reassured, clueless of what he’s really panicking for.
“No, [Y/N], look out!”
The Matriarch had snatched you the same way she did with Cal. While you wriggle in her leg, she pulls you in closer to her face—it doesn’t matter if her mouth’s burned, all she needs to do is devour you, thus you’ve been rid of—though it was an opportunity: you gathered all the power in one leg and stamped her face hard with the sole of your boot, so hard in fact, that the mud that had caked the sole left a mark on the spider’s face. Afterward, you kicked her in th eeyes with the point of your boot, and did this repeatedly until the Wyyyschokk budges and lets you go.
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capricornus-rex · 4 years ago
Text
In the Face of Fear (3)
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Cal Kestis x Reader
Requested by @stellar-trinity​
Summary: Kashyyyk has its own charms and surprises, but what if one of those said surprises rear its ugly, unpleasant head right in front of you in the form of a spider that’s the size of a boulder?
Tags: Arachnophobia, Wyyyschokk, Matriarch Wyyyschokk, Kashyyyk, Arachnophobic! Reader
Also in AO3
Chapters: Part 1 | Previous: Part 2 | Next: Part 4 | Masterlist
3 of ?
Grouped with a small band of partisans, the Jedi pair stalked through the western forest where they presumed the Shadowtroopers would be deployed.
“What good is a cloaking device if they’re just gonna stand and guard a metal building, anyway?” you teased and garnered some chuckles from your companions.
While Jedi senses are keener and more human than a scanner, having both at their disposal would prove to be an advantage. The group has gotten far into the woods now, Cal was starting to pick something up, but he described it as elusive and always on the move.
“Do you think it could be a Shadowtrooper?”
“Could be, could be not,”
Even the rebels were extra alert on today’s mission. For every rustle of grass or leaves, whenever a rock would clatter against anything, even so much as the soft crunching of a twig—they would turn to its direction with all barrels of their rifles at the ready.
Cal’s ears pricked up when he heard a distant rustling—he expected an animal sound to follow after it, but there was none—then his eyes panned left and right, searching for something or perhaps nothing at all. He had already sensed something strange, the random noise he detected just amplified it.
“Please tell me I’m not the only one sensing it, [Y/N],”
“I don’t know, I… I have a strange feeling that something’s watching us. But I don’t know if it’s the Shadowtroopers or something else,”
The redhead hummed and the entire group pressed on. The sunlight’s rays selectively pierced through the trees’ canopies; the further in all of you go, your senses immediately cranked up to eleven. By instinct, your hand pats your leg in search of your lightsaber while keeping your eyes peeled in the way forward.
Still here. You thought, feeling your palm shape up to the roundness of your weapon.
As you and your group step into the part of the forest, you finally had your senses keened when the sunlight in the forest got dimmer. You know something isn’t right anymore, Cal looked at you to affirm that he too senses it.
“Wait,” you firmly said, causing everybody to stop in their tracks. “I sense them.”
“Them? How many do you think there are?” said one partisan.
“I don’t know exactly—but there’s more than one,”
“Great,” grumbled one. “Doesn’t really narrow things down but we’ll work with it.”
The rebels and Jedi press on, but their collective senses tripled, though the latter became more cautious and more sensitive to their surroundings.
“They’re close…” you mouthed, the softness of your voice only got to Cal’s earshot.
The snap of a twig, not by the foot of any of your group, set everybody’s fight-of-flight response. In the split second before that noise died down, blasters clicked and triggers were squeezed; red and green projectiles hailed back and forth.
The Shadowtroopers gave their positions, you witnessed the exact phenomenon that the scout from a few days ago described: thin air swirling as it materializes into a shapeless silhouette, until the color turn more opaque, and only then does one realize they have a Shadowtrooper standing right in front of them.
Luckily, you detected the trooper while his silhouette returns to its solid shape, a blind strike got him on the torso—creating a gash of embers on his frontal plate. Like the static of a hologram, his now-damaged cloaking device caused his entire appearance to crackle until he’s reverted to normal. On the other hand, Cal reeled in his opponent, suspending him inches above the ground and then drove his lightsaber through the black armor; the boy witnesses the same effect once the Shadowtrooper’s armor is damaged to a certain extent.
Most of the rebels were able to damage the other Shadowtroopers’ armor, rendering them incapable of using their cloaking device, thus pelting them with blaster fire with the help of the Jedi pair deflecting their shots and targeting the armor when banking it.
“Not so tough now, are ya?!” celebrated one partisan and the others followed.
However, something still doesn’t sit right with the two Jedi youngsters. How you wished you could tell off these rebels to save the celebration for later until they’re back in the hideout. In the distance, you hear a slow, rhythmic beeping until it got louder…
And louder.
Thunk.
The ball-like weapon mutely rolled over on the earthy cushion beneath your feet, but between the spaces of the grass you spotted its metallic sheen and the red dot-sized light.
“EVERYBODY RUN!!!” you screeched.
A thermal detonator had gone off. Thankfully, nobody was caught in the deadly radius of the blast and only got as little as burns and scrapes. Another wave—albeit small—of Shadowtroopers came barging through the smoke and taking advantage of your collective disoriented state. Being the one least affected by the blast, you drew their attention to you by forcefully turning one of them around from the slightly fazed rebels and then to you—in result, ruining his aim.
“About to shoot at a dazed, immobilized enemy?” you clicked your tongue. “Should’ve expected you’d fight dirty!”
The Shadowtrooper wriggled in your Force grip, his gun-hand struggled to break through whatever’s binding them from aiming at a straight line. Your hold onto him was so tight that even breathing was suffocating. He was denied a pull of the trigger when you flung your target to the other one on your two o’ clock side. At the last minute, another Shadowtrooper came running towards you—he was directly in your periphery—and you got caught in a melee; you were too late to fight back and got struck by the barrel of his rifle, you come rolling to the edge of a ridge—a single kick would send you plummeting to Force-knows-where.
Little did the Shadowtrooper knew that you were playing dead, timing the exact moment you’ll throw him off to the abyss. His footsteps approach you, the vibration of his approaching footsteps meets the nerves of your body against the earth; you feel his one foot lifting up from the ground—either to poke your body to see if you’re dead or to kick you off, it doesn’t matter—and you waited for that split second his boot touches you.
Hup!
You scramble on the dust, quickly grabbed the barrel of the rifle facing downward to tug him in closer, tucked your knees and planted your feet flat on his stomach and your legs sprang upward. The weight of the soles of your feet got ighter, but your success has been compromised as the Shadowtrooper grabbed onto your sleeve in a desperate attempt to literally hold on for dear life!
In the midst of the firefight, Cal scanned the area quickly and found you missing. He looked around and heard your voice in the empty end of the ridge—he immediately got the hint and booked it. He comes rushing, sliding down on his stomach and peeking over the edge to find you barely holding onto a protruding rock on the wall while fighting off the Shadowtrooper clinging on your leg.
“Get…! OFF!!!” you grunted, trying to kick the trooper in the face to make him let go.
Cal dipped his hand over the edge, palm wide open, inching closer so you could grab it.
The Shadowtrooper claws at your calf to make you stop kicking, but the more he claws at and bluntly hits your leg flimsily with his rifle, the more you kick at him.
“Come on, [Y/N], reach!”
“I…” you huffed. “I can’t!”
Eventually, you bent your leg up, gathering enough strength to release one last kick—the hard sole of your boot met the Shadowtrooper’s face—and then another stomp for good measure…
And another…
And one last.
The Shadowtrooper, now dazed from the damage his face had taken, gradually lost grip around your leg and let go, falling into the pit and disappearing into the darkness that blends well with his dark armor. Meanwhile, the rock handhold you’ve been clinging on has started to crumble underneath your fingertips. You’re running out of time.
The warble in your voice is evident. You sobbed as you spoke. Neither yourself or Cal can deny the fear.
“Cal… the rock’s about to give!”
“It’s gonna be okay,” he repeatedly told you this every time he attempts to reach further.
With the dead weight gone, Cal got a hold of you. His forearm pressing against yours as he grabs you just by the elbow line.
“I got you, [Y/N], I got you!”
Cal hauled you up and finally you’re on solid ground… for now.
The relief was short-lived.
You watched his eyes widen with horror, because he knows you heard it too—a single crack of the rock you two are on had broken off and gave!
The colossal chunk of the ridge eroded and slid on the slope, leaving a deep trail on the soil, along with its two unlikely passengers holding at the jagged edge of the rock. It bounced and collided at every corner it bumped into, it was a violent ride—both you and Cal practically dug your nails into the rock and kept your head low.
The chunk of hard earth tore a hole through the rain-soaked soil. Bioluminescent mushrooms lit up the pit that you and Cal have fallen into, dotting the walls with an orange glow, though it’s not enough to fill the entire space—however, despite the warmth they give off, it all feels like a front. Both of you got a bad feeling about this.
“This doesn’t look good,” you mutter to Cal, who was still in the midst of recomposing himself after all that wild ride of a descent.
Looking back, over his shoulder, Cal examined the crater the rock had bore during the fall: the height of hole from the ground was too high for either of you to climb up on. You had a grappling hook on your gauntlet, but looking at the same direction as Cal, you can’t find a suitable surface to secure the hook; squinting your eyes with little sunlight pooling through the crater, you can see that the surrounding wall is made up of moist soil—almost loam-like—which will definitely not hold, especially both of your weights. There were no seemingly firm handholds either.
It’s a long walk to the way out for both of you until the light at the end of the tunnel shines; and the only way through is straight ahead—if there is one.
Cal agreed, having the same queasiness in the stomach as you, “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
The two of you hopped down from the rock and carefully stalked your way through the cavern, unaware what kind of creatures are lurking within its crevices. Without either of your noticing, the corpse of the Shadowtrooper that had clung to you was right behind you, though it lied in the shadows, a pair of hairy legs snaked out of the darker end and spirited the body away from the light of day.
Igniting your sabers to torch the path, it was eerily quiet, spare the coarse dirt crunching underneath your boots. The brightness of your lightsabers combined illuminated the cave at a certain range, Cal was a few paces ahead of you to extend that range.
“It’s like a maze,” he wondered out loud, slowly waving his saber left and right to study the texture of the walls.
“Wooo…” BD-1 whistled, spooked by the darkness. “Bee… t-t-trill…”
Something crunched under your shoe when you took a step—it was thin, crisp, and fragile like eggshells—you turned your foot over and saw white shards clinging on the sole. You immediately recognize the material.
“Oh no…” you groaned.
Cal paused in his tracks and glanced over to you, alarmed by the ominous tone in your voice, “What is it?”
“I know where we are… and it’s not good.”
The large holes on the cave’s wall started to hiss and click. It produced multitudes of legs that are five times thicker than an ion cannon’s barrel; and then comes out a creature with a rotund abdomen, an ironically colorful exoshell, and a pair of mandibles laced with its own bile that could paralyze once it enters one’s bloodstreams.
Your worst nightmare on eight legs.
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capricornus-rex · 4 years ago
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In the Face of Fear (5 - End)
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Cal Kestis x Reader
Requested by @stellar-trinity​
Summary: Kashyyyk has its own charms and surprises, but what if one of those said surprises rear its ugly, unpleasant head right in front of you in the form of a spider that’s the size of a boulder?
Tags: Arachnophobia, Wyyyschokk, Matriarch Wyyyschokk, Kashyyyk, Arachnophobic! Reader
Also in AO3
Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 | Previous: Part 4 | Masterlist
5 of 5
You landed on the soil with a cat-like posture and lightness. You and Cal—though still immobilized—watched the spider rub its face, soothing itself from the pain of your kicking. Once relieved, the spider locked all of its eyes solely on you.
“I think you’ve made it angrier,” Cal attempted to lean closer to your earshot.
“Yeah, well, I did cut her leg off. And kicked in the face. So yeah, I guess you can say I pissed her off!”
Before the Wyyyschokk could skitter back to a closer distance, you threw your lightsaber to its direction, searing the top of its hind abdomen and came bouncing back at you. If this abomination could speak, she would definitely have said something along the lines of “I am tired of dealing with you two children!”
Those words, albeit not exact, echoed in your mind—as if the Wyyyschokk had communicated withyou. But you can’t afford a moment to reflect.
It was time to fight.
“Okay,” you huffed, psyching yourself up. “You can do this...”
The Wyyyschokk screeched at you. You squeeze your hilt with both hands.
“Probably,” you shrug a shoulder during your short pep talk with yourself.
The Wyyyschokk close din on you this time, it probably remembered you amputating it—recognizing the color of your lightsaber as well—and got more aggressive in its approach. It wasn’t the slighest bit intimidated by a stick of light that you swing around, and so it proceeded to crawl towards you.
You dared not to run, even if that’s your initial impulse whenever you’re head-to-head with your own phobia. You planted the soles of your boots to the soil—balanced and erect in your erect. When the Matriarch Wyyyschokk was close enough, you swung your saber the other way, completely removing the other leg she had used in holding Cal. Her once-pointed foot was nothing more than a limb with a charred stub. The Matriarch looked at her leg stump, the pain and the anger boiled altogether into one drum-busting wail—rattling her entire body and the cavern, possibly alerting her spawns.
Covering your ears did so little in muffling out the noise, both you and Cal winced until the spider stopped screaming.
Cal continued to wriggle his way out of the cocoon, but to no avail; meanwhile, you try your best to fight off the Wyyyschokk. You transitioned from aimless swinging to more calculated attacks—although basic strikes, as they were—and evasive maneuvers. One of the objectives was to not get impaled by her other intact legs with ends as sharp as spearheads. With your size versus the Matriarch’s, you’re capable of avoiding her wide-ranged attacks and parrying the lunges. The hide of the creature’s rotund abdomen was surprisingly tougher, your slashes could only singe the shell, but not totally maim or subdue it—that’s when you realized you have to drive your saber through its weak spot: the exposed flesh on the peak of its abdomen.
She’s too fast! You observed in your mind. The only way to solve that is to completely cut off all of her limbs—you’ve taken out two of eight so far, you’ve six more to go.
There was a burst of energy seething within you, it’s probably from the adrenaline; whatever its origin, you made use of it to your advantage. The Matriarch can still attack you like normal, though her pair of leg stumps do less damage than before when they were still whole. Elusively sliding to its side before it could turn around to face you, a violent push hurtled it against the wall, bringing the Matriarch lying on her side and her grotesque feet scrambling to stand herself up; being just one second behind, you come sprinting forward with the glistening beam of light primed for a stab. A clean sweeping cut to the right severed the last joints of the Wyyyschokk’s legs, your heels sprang up from the ground and sparks flew when your lightsaber met with the spider’s tough hide.
Tearing through the prismatic, shimmering shell of its rump, there was a bit of a struggle; though, with the Wyyyschokk disoriented and physically handicapped on one side, it afforded you some time to really deal some damage. Never mind the ear-drilling howls, you supported the pommel with the base of your hand when there was resistance coming from the Matriarch. You wager a guess that you’re driving deep into the organs while the set of stumps of her left-side slap and whip at your back.
Whne the clawing had become more violent, you withdrew from the beast. Both Jedi and the little droid, BD-1, watched the spider scramble back to its feet—it now stood slanted, her menacing gait was now a thing of the past as it was reduced to a humiliating hobble unfit for something named a Matriarch. Though, it was fueled by a primal rage of killing its prey to do itself some justice.
“This has got to be the most persistent spider I’ve seen!” you commented to Cal.
“Yeah, just to get back at you for chopping her legs!”
“Fair point,” you shrugged sarcastically. “Which makes me hate it back even more!”
You sprang back towards it, the burst of power remained undying. The Matriarch rears back an inch and the sorry remnants of her front limbs are lifted from the ground—you know this move, thus you retaliated with a successful parry. The spider was quick to follow up another attack, but you were quicker—parroting a particular move of Cal’s: a direct kick right after doding the next attack. You swerved to your left—the side where the last of this great Wyyyschokk’s limbs remain intact—and executed the kick to disorient it for a brief second. A move that required one to move in the blink of an eye.
You followed it up with  a duo of hard, heavy slashes that severed the left side of its body—the sternum, the abdomen—but it quickly shifted to face you, until the Matriarch attempted to redo the same attack that you parried, only this time, it won’t take a single parry to deter her. You felt the animal’s confidence of sorts that it’ll finally kill you along with Cal, reinforced by the same primitive rage that fuels its persistence, and you determined it to be its undoing.
Lunge. And then a parry.
This exchange of assault happened thrice. The third parry was the strongest, injuring the outer set of mandibles. With the Matriarch fazed after the third, you hopped on to her head like a stepping stone until you hover on the peak of its abdomen. The tip of the lightsaber aligns with the center of the fleshy, claw-shaped dermis and plunged it. You found it easier to penetrate the top than the side. Of course, the Wyyyschokk thrashed violently, you held onto your hilt as tight as you could and buckled your knees to plant your feet against its shell.
“Damn...” Cal muttered in awe as he watched, almost not minding the cocoon.
The movement became slower and more sluggish, the Wyyyschokk has depleted its energy on its dying throes, though you still held onto the hilt with the blade driven deep through the creature’s shell. In half a second, the Matriarch Wyyyschokk’s body finishes into a heavy thud on the earth, you joined the drop, your knuckles were swelling white as bone from the tightness of your grip, and then returned to its color when you confirmed your quarry to be unmoving. The Matriarch’s remaining limbs clenched and scraped the earth until she finally gave up and loosed all tension in her body. A weak squeal escapes her mouth for the last time.
Silence for ten seconds past. Either Jedi anticipated something, but hoped that it was finally over. Cal squirmed around in his silken straitjacket.
“Umm... [Y/N]?”
“Oh...” you huffed. Your hand searched for the saber still stuck into the spider’s exoshell. It took some effort to tug it out, when you did, a vile mixture of cauterized bits of entrails and sparks spurted out of the orifice. You then dragged your knees to Cal’s direction, the tip of your saber hovered an inch above the mud; you knelt at a considerable distance from Cal—the heavy load on your entire body, pounded to exhaustion as the adrenaline wore off, felt relieving. You then founded the strength to hold your saber to eye level and carefully cut through the cocoon.
“Alright, now hold still,” your weak voice was almost a whisper.
“Gently now,” Cal whimpered.
You overlooked the evident doubt in his voice knowing full well you’ve been battered by the fight, “It’s fine, I can still hold it up properly.”
Cal could feel the heat coming from the end of your saber, but he can also feel the cocoon loosening up on his shoulders, and then to his neck; much later, there’s finally some wiggle room for his arms, you worked your way in cutting it downward until his kicked the cocoon’s flaps open. He rolled over and threw the rest of the shell off of his back.
“It’s almost like you hatched out of it,” you joked.
“Ha-ha, very funny,” retaliated the redhead as he dusted off the grass and dirt from his sleeves. His sarcastic tone mellowed and shifted into a warm, affirming tone, “Hey...”
Sensing the abrupt change of tone, you looked to him, wordlessly prompting him to continue.
He plants his hand on the top of your head, fingers slightly digging into your hair and rubbed lightly. “You did great back there.”
You let out one big sigh. Your foreheads touch.
“You did it, [Y/N],” Cal said this twice, whispering proudly to you as he squeezes your hand. He sneaks a kiss on your forehead and helped each other back up on your feet.
“Come on, before the kids find out their mom is dead,” you blurted.
Speak of the devil. Both of you had to move fast as neither of you can deny that the collective skittering and hissing of the lesser Wyyyschokks are starting to get a little louder—what seemed to start as faint noises lurking amongst the rock eolved into a menacing buzz that frightened even the little BD-1.
“T-Trill!”
“BD’s picking up a lot of thermal signatures in here all of a sudden!” Cal translated.
“Well, I’m not waiting to find out what they are in person!”
Gathering his strength, Cal punched the wall with the brass claws, starting with his right hand. When he got a feel that it’ll hold, he looked over his shoulder.
“Hold onto me.”
there was no time for argument. At the corner of your eye, you could see the moss-green of the Wyyyschokk’s body popping out of the shadows. You drape your arms around Cal and he begins scaling the rock wall. You lock your legs against his hips, and quietly promised you’d literally get off of his back when you’re at a considerable distance from the ledge.
You peeked down and Cal has brought the two of you pretty far up now, the collective hissing in the shadows have taken shape into a cluster of the lesser Wyyyschokks gathering round the carcass of their mother. Their fangs twitch as they touch the dead shell of the Matriarch, the feelers in their mandibles alert them that there isn’t anymore a sign of life within her—their sad curiosity morphed into a seething rage akin to their mother’s, rooted by their grief as a whole pack.
“Um, Cal? I think they’ve figured it out!”
“Figured what out?”
“That we killed their mom,”
“Hey, that’s all on you!”
The redhead attempted to pick up the pace, not letting the pressure get to him. You briefed Cal on your plan, so when he got to the top end of the wall, he drove the claws deeper and planted the tips of his boots for traction.
He peeked over his shoulder, looking down, and seeing that the Wyyyschokks scamper from the dead Matriarch to the base of the wall. His heart rate spikes.
“Any moment now, [Y/N]!”
“I’m working on it, hon!” you grunted.
Your free hand flicked the cover of the small switch that’ll send a wire flying from your right-hand gauntlet. Once done, you extend your right arm, fist facing forward, and then a hooked cord shoots right out of the narrow runway of the gadget. The tiny spines on the hook dug into ledge’s adjacent wall. With his free hand, Cal takes the loose end of the cord out of the gauntlet’s small hatch—revealing a toothed anchor—and stabs the rock wall with it. A few good, resistant tugs confirmed that the anchor’s been secured.
“Alright, it’s good to go,” reported Cal.
You scrambled for the pouch on your utility harness and produced a zipline slider. You literally got off Cal’s back, hooked the slider over the cord, and traversed the air—hanging about twenty feet above the ground with a colony of vengeful spiders below. Shortly after, BD-1 hopped over the cord, his forked feet clicked and transformed into the same fashion of a zipline slider—then Cal held onto the little droid and joined you on the ledge.
A few of the spiders have already climbed to a certain height of the wall, others have cut through the line and circled to reach the top end, a handful have crossed the gap by deliberately passing by the rock wall and towards you. Before any of them could examine the anchor—let alone, realize that it’s there—you twisted a thin knob on the hook-end. The anchor whipped and whistled, startling the spiders near it, and snapped as it conjoins itself with the hook. Cal watched with a child-like wonderment.
“That’s pretty nifty!”
“I know, I should make one for you some time!”
Once the hook and anchor mechanism had reduced into the size of a metal pod, you returned it to its small hatch on your gauntlet and prepared for a second shot—this time, as a climbing line from the ledge to the oculus.
You’re reminded of the disadvantage on your end, “I can’t zipline upwards. I’m gonna have to borrow BD.”
“Bee-bee-chirp!” the droid was happy to help and didn’t spare a second in hopping onto the cord.
Before you could even hold onto little BD-1, a single Wyyyschokk clung onto the rock above your heads and greeted you with its maws, strung with saliva and bile. It didn’t wait any longer for either of you to react, but the pointy end of Cal’s lightsaber beamed through the roof of its mouth and then through its skull. He thumbed on the switch while his weapon was still near its mouth, the rod of light vanished cleanly, scrolling downward into the emitter.
The Force lent him enough strength to carry and toss the Wyyyschokk off the ledge, but a few would soon follow.
“Uhh, [Y/N]...”
“I know, I know! I see them!”
That courage you had on the ground against the Matriarch Wyyyschokk seemed to have died with her. Your phobia was returning in each passing minute her legion of spawn cover nearly half of the wall. Your initial grip on BD was unstable, it took you a brief minute to adjust your grip that’ll reassure you won’t fall along the way.
Clamping your fingers tight around BD’s feet, the droid’s rotors went to work and delivered you from point to point. As soon as BD’s feet touched the end of the string, you buckled your legs and sprang upward, directly out of the oculus. You knelt by the rim of the hole and witnessed the spiders miss Cal by a hair. He leaped straight out, the three of you regrouped but it doesn’t stop there—one problem after another, the spiders were gaining and they’re already treading the cord.
“Step away!”
You cut the cord with your saber, the cord twanged and whipped as it lost all the tension from the anchor and hook. The spiders that were walking on it went down with it. A few have failed in attempting to make the impossible jump and fell from a higher drop.
“Here, help me!” Cal scrambled up to his feet and then faced his entire body towards a boulder.
Immediately getting the idea, you stood up and channeled the Force; gathering strength to lift the boulder alongside Cal. Together, the rock rose from the ground, leaving an indent on its former place since time immemorial, and—fitting like a glove—clogs up the cavern’s oculus from the surface, severing the leg joint of a juvenile Wyyyschokk in the process.
The amputated leg wildly twitched, hopped, and writhed by your feet, which you jerked back out of startled disgust. The two of your watched it until it finally curled and went limp. Finally, you and Cal can afford the breather that you so desperately wanted and needed.
“Come on, we have to get back to base,” you nudge at his shoulder.
“Yeah...” he exhaled. “Yeah, let’s.”
You chuckle at his lazy bum. Your arms couold not take up his weight as you take his one hand with both of yours. He initiated to stand up when you landed on your bottom after trying to tug at him, the roles reversed, and you distanced yourself from the clogged hole of the underground cavern.
Cal clicked the button of his comlink.
“Sierra Unit, do you copy?”
A couple more impatient clicks on the gadget and he was answered with static. BD-1 tried to help by popping out his tiny satellite out of the top plating of his head, the little dish spins at a speed while the droid’s owner continues his desperate attempt.
The device finally beeped, an ecstatic male voice answers.
“Hey now, I thought for sure you were goners in that Wyyyschokk pit!”
A grin stretched across Cal’s freckled face. A huge relief befell him when his shoulders voluntarily relaxed. You shared the same sentiment, except you hid your desperation for a response on the other end of the comlink.
“Is it too early for a pick-up?” chortled Cal.
“Not at all! Just send us your coordinates and we’ll be right over... Over!”
After the transmission, you were drawn to the crashing sound of water, thus you followed it; you walk up to the more open area of the forest—finding yourselves on the side of a river, at the edge was a waterfall. The scenic view at the ridge was breathtaking. Fresh, crisp air welcome itself into your lungs, the loose fringes of your hiar whipped at the torrential wind from such an altitude, and the mist of the water tickled your cheeks and neck.
This was a wholly new area to both of you.
“Cal, over here!”
The redhead approached where you stood. He, too, was astounded by the view. Treetops and mountains that were greener than his emerald irses, and a sky that was so vast and blue; the Shyyyo Bird made an appearance, gliding over the treelines. The spray of the rapids at his left-hand side landed on his freckles and fogged BD-1’s optical lens. He realizes that there’s so much that everyone—except the Wookiees—hasn’t touched yet: Imperial or otherwise.
Not long after appreciating the view, a gray speck dotted the sky in your north, at the edge of the waterfall. Squinting through the horizon with your hand over your brow, the gray speck in the sky takes on size. The rotors of a retrofitted LAAT gunship mingle quite well with the roaring rapids—faintly, at first, until it got louder as they got nearer. A foot soldier peeked out of the doorless side of the ship and waved his free arm at you. As a response, you ignite your saber and wave it in the same manner as the soldier.
Just when you thought you were saved—the spiders have made a team effort in pushing out the boulder used to block off their exit. The thumping sound of the rock caused both Jedi to swing around and watch as the Wyyyschokks spring out of the hole. The foot soldier saw the quick transition from your glad expressions to an impatient, anxious one.
“Hurry, drop down the ladder!”
“Come on! They’re coming!”
Confused, the foot soldier was partially panicking and taking his time—unsure of the sudden mood change. He scrambled inside the ship looking for the rope ladder while the vessel lowered itself slowly. Alternating between the soldier in the ship and the rock being moved by the spiders in a collective effort, Cal locked eyes with one lesser Wyyyschokk while you clawed the air—pleading the soldier to kick down the ladder.
“HURRY!!” you cried.
The ladder was still untangling itself in mid-air when you clumsily caught a rung.
“Cal, come on!”
You manually straightened out the rope ladder and started climbing, Cal followed suit. The foot soldier shouted at the pilot to bring them up while the two Jedi were still clinging onto some rungs. The juvenile Wyyyschokks never got close to your heels; by the time they’ve completely gotten out of their den, the LAAT gunship has already carried you. The creatures curse the wind and the metal bird for refraining them from avenging their mother.
Again, you catch your breaths while the foot soldier checked on both of you.
“You’re alright, you two. You’re safe now,” he reassured. “What happened down there anyway?”
Cal nodded sideways, pointing to you, “Believe it or not: [Y/N] here killed the Matriarch.”
The soldier’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped altogether, “No way?”
The Jedi boy countered, bemusingly, “Way.”
“I don’t believe it. Well, that’s a story to tell around the campfire back at base!”
All you could do was smile. You were exhausted. There was nothing to say, but you appreciate the affirmation. The least you could do right now, after facing your fear all caged inside a rock, is reward yourself with rest.
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capricornus-rex · 4 years ago
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Happy New Year, everyone!
This year has had its up and downs. But I’d like to look at the Ups more:
My blog is now filled with fanfics that I’ve enjoyed writing.
I received so many fic requests on the regular and I loved every single bit.
I met a lot of amazing people @alexpjoyner @stellar-trinity @peterwandaparker @queen-destenie @silverfeathers @galaxy-barnes @superwarsofthrones @calsponchoemporium @cal-jestis @ahsokatano-thetogruta @sweeetteaa @someoneovertherainboww @kybacrystal and a lot more through my works!
A milestone I never thought I’d be reaching: 40+ fanfics of Star Wars Jedi Fallen Order and a million more well on the way!
Got into working out during the quarantine, slimmed down and glowed up! Now I’m just staying in shape as much as I can.
I passed my probationary period and got myself signed in as a permanent employee to my company. (Financial stability in 2021, here I come!)
Got my very first customized lightsaber!
Made a Youtube channel for fun hehe
Started a small business as reseller of a local saber store here in my country.
I guess that’s the most significant points of my 2020 and it made me look forward to 2021.
Now as 2020 has ended: Goodbye, you little shit.
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capricornus-rex · 5 years ago
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Just Us Now (2 - End)
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GIF source thanks to @stellar-trinity​ reblogging it UwU
Cal Kestis x Reader
Summary: After taking the word of a fellow partisan about a lagoon, you are met with a surprise in  what possibly is the most unlikeliest of timings.
Notes: Oh lordy lord, writing this was such a trip! Although I write smut once in a blue moon, it’s actually quite fun *winkwonk* 👀👀😏 I’d actually love to hear your thoughts about this fic and let me know if you wanna see more content like this! Hope you guys enjoy! 😁
Requested by: @calgasm​
Previous: Part 1 | Masterlist
2 of 2
With your grip secure and despite your ebbing energy from a few seconds ago, you swam away from the boulder. You glanced over your shoulder and beckoned Cal with your eyes to follow. He swam close to you, by your side, into the waterfall at the west of the lagoon where the two of you had stood.
“Did you know this was here?”
You playfully smirked, “No.”
The waterfall had a small enclave inside. You pulled yourself up to the surface and sat on the edge, Cal remained in the water.
“There’s enough space for the two of us, you know!” you joked.
He hummed a chuckle. He ran his fingers across your legs where his eyes followed, he trailed them upwards to continue teasing you: his hand nearly covered your thigh and he caressed its fullness, he unintentionally tickled your navel when his fingertip passed it by, he barely brushed a centimeter close to your nipple, drawing invisible lines across your neck until a single finger plays under your chin.
Abruptly, Cal hoisted himself up and sat next to you—behold his body sculpted in the likeness of a youthful god, skin that is clear like porcelain, freckles dotted every inch of his body and mingled with the crystalline droplets trickling down from every edge of his muscles, and a head full of hair as fiery as Dathomir’s sun.
You were staring into a masterpiece.
Cal’s knuckles smoothly brushed against your cheek, he gazed at you tenderly yet deep inside him, he was battling against the temptation within himself, every effortless move you made somehow seduced him—the sleight of your eyes as you stare back at him and the way your lips part to say words that never came out.
He nestled his thumb over your lip, he inched close towards you and got rid of the space that divided you. Cal stole kisses, one after the other, he smuggled small smiles each time he pulled away before giving you another until you ended up getting infected with his smirks. There was the exchange of stares that screamed so many silent words. There was a feral glint in his eyes, and it fascinated you.
He continued to lock your lips with his own. Slowly, he pins you flat on the cold, smooth ground—your skin almost rendered numb to the chill of the rock surface. He propped himself on fours so you’re underneath him; his hand hooks onto the underside of your knee and raises your legs out of the water, he looked to you again and met with a warm gaze.
“Wait…” you murmured, almost sounding ashamed. “It’s my first time.”
“Don’t worry,” he purred. “I’ll be gentle.”
At this point, this must be the first time he allowed himself to give in.
He continued making you his lips’ playground—he teased you some more with supple kisses on your neck, his breath tickled your ear and blew a few strands of your hair, he then saw your vulnerability when you angle your neck to the side, he finally dared himself to caress your left breast, a finger carefully fondles an erect nipple while the other four groped at its tenderness, and he lurched downward on his way to your bosom.
Cal nibbled into your other breast, latching onto its nipple as you felt his tongue flicking the tip. Eventually, he went further down. He sensually lapped your slit while having secured your thighs in his arms. You thought it was possibly the most sinful thing he’s ever done.
The sensation made you scorch all over, your knees buckled, you cried out when he dipped his tongue further in—his response was clutching your legs much tighter that the dips his fingers made on your skin gradually reddened.
Later, he pulled away, your head was spinning as you heaved to catch your breath.
“You’re already wet,” he husked as he gingerly rubbed the knuckle of his finger against your clit.
“O-Oh… Uh…” you stuttered, unsure what to respond with. You bring your hand to your face in a useless attempt to hide your flustered expression.
He chuckled as he discovered the flush in your cheeks and found it endearing. You watch him position himself between your thighs, you shyly open your legs but you brushed your calf against his hip, he pinned your wrists as he started out gentle—but you were a tad bit tight.
As much as he didn’t want to hurt you, he quickly shoved his cock into you. The entry sent a jolt-like wave upon you that it squeezed a loud moan out of you, your back arched in the same time you sharply inhaled as the rest of his length entered.
Cal got a feel of you inside.
Push… and pull…
Push… and pull…
Your warmth made him greedy for you, he tried different rhythms—the ones that make you groan, bite your lip, and make your eyes roll back—as he listened to your growls. He decided to go fast… and then deeper… and then a little faster.
Minutes later, Cal became more primal with his movements.
He drives himself deeper into you, fire coursed under your skin every second that’s passed and you were beginning to feel lightheaded. You could feel the tip hitting your womb, he was unrelenting. He watched your expression as you gasped and cried out pleadingly.
One arm ringed around your waist as Cal violently thrusted himself inside you. He got moans mixed with his name and cuss words out of it.
“Cal… Oh, more…!” you howled as you begged, digging your nails deep into his back as he sank his hips in a particular rhythm.
You pull him in, cradling his jaw and carefully clawing the bottom of his scalp, you caught him in a passionate, heated kiss—delicately tugging the bottom of his lip with your teeth, he sensed your wanton grin as you swirl your tongue inside his mouth until you manage to sweep him off his guard.
You rolled and dominated him.
You have taken Cal completely by surprise.
He watched the marvel on top of him that is you—rocking her hips back and forth as she rode, a hot, sexy mess of partially-wet hair, beads of water glittering over her skin, and a blush that colored her face into a deep red—his hands were big enough to cover the small of your waist, he gently moved your body about as he had you in his grasp, he caressed and dug his fingernails into your buttocks as you bucked.
Cal felt it coming any moment now. He threw his head back while keeping his hands all over you. He felt the heat pooling at his lower abdomen, he pressed you harder against him as he arrives to his sweet release.
His cum welled up inside you as you felt his fingers loosen from your hips. It was warm and rubbed your thighs together as you felt it dribbling out of your hole.
The crash of the waterfall drowned out the echoes of your combined moans and cries at the height of your passion. It felt like time has stopped ticking, the lights have gone brighter and whiter, and Cal could feel the vein in his temple pulse.
Your body rendered limp after the orgasm, you melted to Cal’s sweat-soaked body and tossed to the side so you rest your head over his shoulder. Almost automatically, he nestled you in his arm the moment you snuggled to him.
A dazed Cal blinked several times until the light adjusted back to normal, he found you lying right by your side and resting your eyes—nearly asleep like a baby—both of you are heaving in order to catch your breaths.
“You didn’t move like it’s your first time,” Cal raggedly mumbled,
“I was about to say the same thing,” a weak scoff that ought to be a laugh rasped through your lips.
A weak, breathless laugh rung in the enclave, it quickly died out as the crashing waterfall cloaked your voices from the outside world. Cal shifted and nudged closer to you, pressing his lips on your forehead before nuzzling his cheek against your head.
“We left our clothes at the shore,” you pointed out in a chuckle. “Do you think we should get it?”
“Could we stay here for a few more minutes?” Cal pleaded. “I’m warm enough with you right next to me.”
He cuddled you up much closer until there wasn’t a single inch of space between you, practically skin-to-skin, he still let his hands and fingers glide over you while staring blankly at the ceiling and exchanging sweet nothings as the night passed.
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capricornus-rex · 5 years ago
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SW JFO Fic Masterlist
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This list will probably expand, but for now I’ll post the links that direct to the stories I’ve published so far :)
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Cal x Reader Imagine - You and Cal meet again after the Purge.
Imagine Prompt: Bad Dreams
Hath Heart Love Till Now
Imagine Prompt: Meditation
The Pull of the Dark
Worth Protecting - Prompted by Anon :)
Love’s Mischievous Twin - Prompt: Jealous Cal
Imagine Prompt: Overprotective Cal
Inseparable Dyad
Imagine Prompt: Jealous Reader
Refuge in Sorgan
Can I Keep You? - Requested by @stellar-trinity
Huge Faith For A Little Droid
Come Back To You
Bad Dreams Don’t Come True - Requested by @peterwandaparker
Can’t Keep The Doctor Away - Requested by Anon | Trilla x Fem OC | First one ever!
A Test of Wills - Requested by Anon
His Spark of Light - Requested by @stellar-trinity
Playing Pretend - Requested by @calkesttiss
A Flicker of Rebellion - Requested by @calkesttiss
The Two Faces of Bracca - Requested by @someoneovertherainbowx
Flying Lessons
Just Us Now - Prompted and requested by @calgasm
A Path I Can’t Follow
Perseverance Over Pride - requested by @stellar-trinity
Day Off - requested by @peterwandaparker
What You Fear To Lose - requested by Anon
Just A Scratch - requested by @berenilion
The Haunt of Redemption - Sequel of A Path I Can’t Follow
Old Friend, New Family - requested by Anon
Festival of Flowers - requested by @peterwandaparker
Bad Ideas Make Good Memories - requested by @queen-destenie
The Longing For A Familiar Feeling
A Legacy Begun - requested and prompted by Anons
Say Love - song prompt requested by Anon
Stronger Than Blood - requested by Anon
Two Sides of the Coin - original fic with supporting prompt from Anon :)
Little Secrets That You Know That I Never Told - requested by Anon
A Time Where Innocence Prevailed - requested by Anon
Someone Left to Save - requested by Anon
In the Face of Fear - requested by @stellar-trinity
A Shadow of What You Used to Be - requested Anon | Fem! OC used
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