#who is gonna let me wipe off all my uncleanness on them

[madgicwands]

[river13245]

I Don't Beg

Navigation / SPN Masterlist

Warnings: Fighting, being taken, arguing. Lucifer being an ass. OH ALSO best friend Crowley

Crowley who had been one of your close,dare you say friend. So when he had called you very early in the day asking you for help on a case. You couldn't exactly just tell him no. You drop everything you're doing just to go to his place

He knew to call you at a certain time when your boyfriend couldnt hear you. Your boyfriend slept in rather late while you got up at a reasonable time and went to bed after the sun goes down. Unless you had plans throughout the night.

After ending the call you had went to you and your boyfriends shared bedroom and looked at him once more before leaving a note on the door.

Goodevening Darling I had to leave early this morning something had needed my attention Im safe and sound so dont come looking for me Ill be home before tonight. Try not to evil today xoxo ~ yours

-----

When you arrived to where Crowley was he was sitting on his throne. He wasn't the king of hell anymore, but you had managed to let him keep his throne even after your boyfriend took everything from him. You just stole it back and gave it back to him.

what do you need my help with crow?" You used his nickname and he rolled his eyes. "Ive told you to stop calling me that y/n/n" He got up from his throne and walked in front of you with his hands in his pockets.

As you hear his response "yeah well I don't think the Winchester boys enjoy you calling them moose and squirrel. Now do they?" He shrugs and smirks "well you might have a point there"

You both looked at each other for a moment before you broke the silence "Okay what do you need from me. What's the job we need to do" Crowley looks at you for a moment as if he's debating on if he really should bring you into this. However he really did need help. "There's a family of vampires in the next town over, I could take care of those myself really but there's demons all over the place. Those I cant take care of alone"

Sighing you shake your head "Fuck Lucifer is gonna be so pissed" Crowley rolls his eyes placing his hand on your shoulder "yeah yeah your dear old boyfriend will be upset. Never stopped you before, now come on"

----

When you got there you moved quietly trying to find an opening to sneak through so you can go straight to the vampires and deal with them first.

Crowley of course had other plans, he made himself known. He always had to make an entrance but you also know why he did it. It was so you can go undetected because they would be too focused on him.

As you walk into this abandoned facility that was in the middle of no where all you smelt was dust. You had to fight the urge to sneeze, it looked so unclean. Hell they were vampires, they had no class they were ugly creatures.

You make your way through the building until you find one. You knew that if you attacked now that there was a good chance of all of them looking for you but you decide to risk it.

When the vampire wasn't looking you grab both of your knives and jump onto its back. Legs wrapping around him and use your knives to completely cut off his head in one swift move.

It never had time to make a sound except scratch you slightly. That was something you could deal with later. You wipe of the blood from your knives so blood wouldn't trail behind you and give off where you were, you were smarter than to do that rookie mistake.

The next room you walk in there's a group of them all standing around a bit on edge from the demons outside causing a chaos. You had to think strategically so you grab the nearest thing you can throw and throw it across the room. A few of them go towards the sound but some of them come closer to where you are.

You end up slicing ones head off while the other one grabs onto you rather roughly. using your foot you kick high behind you right into the mans balls, you knew how painful getting kicked there is. he loosens his grip on you just enough so you could pull away and cut his head off too.

As you do this the other two vamps run up to you but you were quick and managed to get one. The other however did pin you down to the floor. However as soon as you manage to grab the blade you roll over on top of him as he beings his mouth to your neck. Before he sings his fangs in you cut his head off. "fucking ugly bloodsuckers"

Standing up you brush yourself off and let your guard down for one second before you hear a voice whose you've never heard before. "well that's a bit rude don't you think?" Turning around you see a demon.

"well what can I say im not very fond of vampires or demons. You guys are nothing but pricks" as you say that you go to step forward when something grabs you and presses you against them. When you hear a sarcastic evil laugh you know its another demon. "well thats no way to talk to a demon. Plus you cant hate us all to bad when you are dating THE lucifer"

I let out a laugh and look at the demon in front of me. "well lets just say he won me over. He is a fantastic kisser...I don't see any of you puckering up"

Saying this only made them more frustrated causing the demon behind me place a knife to my throat. "hm you've got a mouth on you. Wonder what Lucifer would react like if we were to cut your tongue out and then send you back to him"

Opening your mouth to say something that would be very stupid you heard someone come into the room and speak. "I wouldn't do that" everyone's head turned. The demon holding you turned the both of you around, the blade still against your neck and there stood your boyfriend. Looking at the others "you see if you would have cut their tongue out and sent them back to me I would have fixed them of course and then I would have found you and what I would do to you is a hell of a lot worse than you could think of"

The demon behind you falters just a moment but its enough that you are able to break free and swing your leg out tripping him and then you use his own blade to cut his head off. The other demon was running up to you who was stopped by lucifer and he instantly killed them with just a flick of his wrists.

Instantly he goes back over to you and looks over you. Clearly pissed even as you place your hands on his shoulders to try to ground him. "what the hell are you doing here?" he asks demandingly "I should have known you couldn't let me go anywhere without you knowing where I am"

He glares at you and before he responds Crowley comes rushing in. "shit y/n are you okay?" Lucifer turns to look at him and without even a second thought lucifer pinned him to the wall and punches him causing him to go flying back.

Running towards Crowley you shield him with your body so if Lucifer wanted to hurt him he would have to hurt you too. Lucifer looked at the both of you. "I should have known he would be the reason that you drop everything and leave to put yourself in danger"

Ignoring him you place your hand on Crowley's face and you keep asking him if he's fine and he leans away from you and stands up. "I'm fine y/n/n now shoo" he had a busted lip and was bleeding but he instantly used his magic to fix it and you were finally able to breathe.

You then stand up and look over at your boyfriend who is standing there glaring daggers at the both of you. Walking up to him you grab his arm. "were leaving"

----

As soon as your heels hit the floor lucifer is off of you and instantly yelling at you. "what the hell were you thinking. You really thought i would buy the whole "I'm safe" thing. Come on you should know be better than that by now"

He was pissing you off, this is how it was between the both of you. there was always something you do that angered him, the littlest things always ticked him off. "Yes because I thought since I'm your boyfriend that you wouldn't need to feel the need to come after me."

"oh come on. I'm Lucifer have you ever heard any stories where I'm anything but the devil. I'm not a nice guy, you knew what you were getting into when you got with me" he says as he glares at you his eyes turning colors but it doesn't intimidate you anymore.

Instead of coming up with another angry retort back you let out a sigh and shake your head. Lucifer looks at you and almost says something to piss you off but stops when you say. "Yeah you're right I did know what I was getting myself into" your voice is quiet but loud enough for him to hear. "maybe I made the wrong decision"

Finally looking up at him you see how he freezes. "what? what do you mean by that?" Tears start to form in your eyes but you take in a deep breath. "what it means is that I'm leaving. I cant keep doing this"

Lucifer looks at you for a moment before responding "cant keep doing what?" At his cluelessness you scoff and grab your bag. "I cant keep doing this. There's always something I do that makes you upset, I'm tired of being yelled at by you. That isn't what I want in a relationship...im tired"

Not giving him a chance to respond "I love you so deeply Lucifer but I cant keep doing this with you." He doesn't say much so you give him one last look before turning and walking to the door of your home.

The same home that you had to beg him to get because he just wanted you to live down in hell with him but he gave in and he even enjoyed this house more than you did. He was a good boyfriend some days. But you couldn't keep arguing all the time anymore.

Your hand is on the door when a hand grips onto your arm and turns you to look at him. He looks....heartbroken? Not really ever having seen this side of him before you yourself are confused.

When you see him start to kneel in front of you as he holds onto your hands you shake your head. "what..no..what are you doing?" you knew he wasn't proposing. He didn't believe in marriage, he had said "people will know your mine we don't need a label on it. You are my partner and that's enough for me" but it still made you nervous because he has never knelt in front of you like this before.

Lucifer looks up at you and in a shaky voice he speaks. "please don't go. I need you and I'm sorry for the way I've acted, I promise ill change." Now realizing what he's doing. He's begging for you back and your shaking your head placing your hands on his face gently.

You didn't need to speak right now all you had to do was focus and you would be able to see into his mind. As you hold his face he nods giving you permission and the memories he had shown you made your heart break.

He showed you the moment when you guys got your house. You had been so happy and instantly kissed him, or when you guys first kissed and he was so gentle. As he let you inside of his mind you seen everything and heard every feeling he felt for you that he struggled showing. However its the last one that finally makes you break.

~~~~

You had been taken by an angel who had been working with a demon and taking them both on had been a struggle but you did well enough that you were still alive. It had been almost three weeks and you know that the reason they kept you alive was because they needed something from Lucifer and the guys. They had fed you just enough to keep you alive but still keeping you weak and tied up. Then one day Lucifer had came and found you. The guys were there too, Crowley and Cas were defending you. You were barely conscious but conscious enough to hear what was being said. "Okay Lucifer you have something we need and we have something you want" one of the demons say before the other one finished "I think its a fair trade don't you think?" Lucifer wasn't having any of this while Cas was just telling him to just hand it over but that wasn't his style. "How about you hand him over to us and I let you go free" At the sound of them potentially gaining their freedom they almost let up. One grabs you by the neck tilting your head back ready to snap it. "hmm as tempting as that sounds I think id rather see you begging for your precious toy back" there is a chuckle in the air that's coming from Lucifer "I'm the devil, I'm not going to beg for anything." At his words you feel your heart break thinking he was just going to let you die to save his reputation but then you see the demons vanish and there stood Sam and Dean and you had passed out"

----

Coming back from the memory you move your hands to his shoulders and you kneel in front of him so you guys are kind of at the same height. Realizing that he was begging for you...not caring about how he looks right now. You place a kiss to his lips and wrap your arms around him. "I'm sorry. I don't want to leave you, but we have to work on the anger towards me. Ill work on my stuff too"

"of course as long as I have you with me" he says as he kisses you again

[swimminginlakes]

Toxic relationships

Unfortunately, some of us don't realize just how toxic your relationship was until you get out of it. So here's some shit that my ex did that I'd never let anyone do to me now :]

told me he'd break up with me if i went to see my favourite band (and that's why i didn't go, SHAME!!!)

getting mad at me for not eating a lot at his new years eve party when i explicitly told him i wasnt gonna eat much (had a weird relationship with food at that time and recently returned from the hospital for it) and never standing up for me when his parents asked me if i thought their house and food was unclean

always made fun of me together with his parents for the jobs i had to work (his family was quite wealthy and they always let me know, while i had to work to support myself and my gradma who raised me because my parents fucked off when i was little)

getting mad at me one year for not coming to another new years eve party cause i didnt want to leave said grandmother alone

getting mad at me for forgetting condoms at my house and not bringing them over (he refused to keep condoms at his house because what if his parents found them !!! that was honestly one of the stupidest fucking things ever said by anyone but oh well, i was young lol)

always judging me if i dared buy fruit or veggies because they are expensive and i was complaining about having no money (but i refuse to eat foods without veggies, im not a monster)

getting mad when i didnt wanna have sex (because honestly he wasnt that good at it and he was silent through the whole time so i felt creeped out)

screamed at me for forgetting the condoms once (apparently he thought i was cheating on him because his ex did that and clearly i was the same because i was a woman... then again, he could keep the condoms with him and we wouldnt have this problem)

we were supposed to move in together but he wouldnt take my suggestions when it came to the house, and always rather asked his parents. naturally i got mad because it was me who was supposed to live there so i told him to move in with his mommy cause im fucking done with his behaviour. he didnt talk to me for 3 days and then messaged me asking if im willing to pay for the furniture and that his parents are driving us to IKEA, because they picked out the perfect bed and whatever. told him to go to hell

his parents and grandparents always kept talking about how highly intellingent he is and how lucky i was to have met him but he couldnt even read the instruction manual to build a garden shed without my help so where the IQ at? (this isnt really toxic but it fucking pissed me off hearing how perfect he is when he couldnt even buy fruit at the store that wasnt already moldy, like how dumb can you be to not check my guy)

his parents always asking me if i can cook well because how else am i gonna take care of him???? ????? what do you mean? why can't he cook himself? that's literally a basic human skill and if he can't do it he shouldn't be moving out of your house where you do all for him, even wipe his scrawny little ass (he couldn't even do that properly, he had skid marks every fucking where. it was truly disgusting)

told me if i don't let him read my diary it's a sign that i'm hiding something from him. i said i'm allowed to have private thoughts that he doesn't know about and he didn't talk to me for like a week

I'm sure there's much more. I just randomly started thinking about it yesterday because i was reading my old diaries and have seen how far I've come and how different I am as a person now.

[slasherrabbitmadness]

Bo Sinclair x Female Reader

Sinclair College AU Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

Woo, NONCON ELEMENTS! This was written by demand. Seriously, bug me to write the AUs if you want to read them lol

Underthecut - NSFW, NONCON do not read if you do not like noncon, Dark fic, Vaginal sex, brief mention of anal, Bruises, creampie and Brief mentions of pregnancy

You shivered as Bo brought the blankets over you, cooing at how tired you must be, how you'll need all the rest you can get.

The dull ache throbbed throughout your body. Your toes hurt from curling them repeatedly, your hips hurt, from Bo's near incessant pounding and nails digging into your hips. Your breasts were sore, nipples teased and played with so long, his stubble scratched along your valley. Your neck was bruised, a feint handprint along the front mixed in with hickeys. Your lips sore and dry, lip gloss smeared around your mouth.

Dried tears over your cheeks, into your hair, onto the pillow.

"Hey, c'mon Sweets." Bo leaned in to kiss your cheek, making you squeeze your stomach in response, "Hey, you're good." He sat next to you, lightly patting your cheek, "Y'did so good for me, hm? So perfect." He leaned in, lips inches from your cheek, "Just like you've always been."

Bo looked down at you, bit his lower lip as your eyes remained vacant, body reacting out of an impulse to his touch, but emotionally wrought.

"You can rest for a lil while but then we gotta clean ya up, Sweets."

You cringed at the nickname, what was once a cute endearing term made your stomach turn.

"Rest for a bit, then we shower." Bo leaned in to kiss your temple, kissed your cheek ad a chaste kiss over your sore lips.

You curled into yourself, letting the motel blanket, stale smell, and lull you into a weak state of slumber.

Bo walked over to the chair, grabbing his crotch as he sat down, letting his chub rest against his thigh. He tapped his foot on the cheap carpeted floor. He leaned back to rummage through his stuff on the table, grabbing a joint and lighting it up.

He took a hit, leaned back. He listened, listened as the cars outside drove by, tires hissing along the wet pavement. A random dog barking, its deep thundering barks upsetting another tenant enough he heard a woman shouting for the thing to shut up.

The rain hit along the window, repeated taps along it felt commoning to Bo. The dull noise helped with his racing thoughts.

Bo wanted to curl into you, wrap his arms around you, kiss along your shoulder, laugh as you playfully reprimand him "Bo, stop! Your stubble is tickling me!" He smiled, "Bo, least you could do is just kiss me."

He coughed, smoke sputtered out through his lips. A deep hum rumbled from his chest, the image of you and him on the bed, curled into each other came so easily. Just like that one Valentine's day...

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

Bo held you in his arms, hand running up and down your back. He kissed your lips, groaning as you let him slip your tongue in.

He cupped your cheek, tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Your moans spurred him on, his thigh pushed in between your legs, spreading you out for him.

"Bo...again?" You asked in a whisper.

"You know you got another round in ya." He kissed you again as he angled his cock at your entrance, grunted as his cock head was met with your warmth. "Ah, sure feels like you're ready." He pushed in, his hands grabbing your wrists to pin them above your head.

Deep intimate strokes have you cantering into him, "Bo..."

"Daddy, c'mon you know how we do this."

"Daddy, please, I want more."

Bo pulled out all the way and bucked forward, a quiet laugh as you squirmed under him.

He picked up speed, huffing and moaning above you. Placed sloppy kisses along your neck, sucking and biting, groaning at the fresh bruises forming along the skin.

"Daddy, ah, more." You freed your wrists from his grasp and ran your hands down his back, resting your hands on his ass. You pushed him further into you, "Daddy please, deeper in me."

His cock twitched in response, "You like when Daddy fucks you? You just need me fuckin' you always."

He kissed you as you moaned in response, hands traveled to the back of his hair, fingers threading through his brown hair.

Bo's hips grew sloppy, your pussy clenched around him as he pushed in deeper and deeper. He wanted to scream out his release, get another call from the front desk. Telling him that there have been noise complaints coming from his room.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him in, his movements became shallow, you felt his cock throb within you.

Bo moaned into the kiss, his hips stuttering as he emptied himself into you. He grinned as you sobbed under him, mewling out praises, whimpering how full he was making you feel.

"Daddy, you keep coming in me, and it might just take." He wheezed, running a hand over his forehead to brush away the sweat.

"Would that be such a bad thing?" His smile fell as you gave him a mortified look.

Reality hit him, "Bo, I can't get pregnant. I'm only in my second year of University! I need my degree first. How in the hell can I have a baby? I can't afford it, I can barely afford my classes."

He groaned at your rambling, he knew you were right, knew that realistically you could never afford a baby, that a degree gave you and your children together with a better shot.

He hummed in agreement, pulled you back into him, "Shh, we'll figure it out later." He kissed your forehead, growled as you nipped at his neck.

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

Bo sat up and walked over to you on the bed, "C'mon, we need to shower now."

You remained still, eyes closed, face turning into the pillow.

Bo pulled off the blankets, a hard breath through his nose as he took you in. He lifted you into his arms, pressed kisses to the top of your head, mumbling at how sweaty you smelled and tasted.

He walked into the shitty motel bathroom, a far cry from the last time you ever shared on together on Valentine's day.

The yellow light and avocado green sink, toilet, and tub held a nasty hue.

Bo looked at himself in the mirror as he held you, his eyes held a light pink hue (the weed), bags under his eyes, his hair sticking to his forehead. He grinned taking in the bruises along his shoulders and chest. A mixture of teeth marks and fists.

He set you down, an arm around your waist to steady you.

"Okay, Sweets, gonna get you clean. How many days has it been?"

You swayed in your spot, eyes downcast.

"About five days, best to get you clean." He leaned in to place a sloppy kiss on your cheek.

He turned on the water, the steam rising up to the ceiling. "Let's step in."

The water felt euphoric on your skin, washing away the last five days of bodily fluids. Bo's dried saliva, the dried semen on your front, the bits you couldn't fully wipe off your face. The hot water kissed your bruises, a pleasant ache from the hot touch.

You stared at the yellow shower tile, steadying a breath as Bo rubbed his hands over your body. You let your mind race, let it fall into a day more pleasant thoughts.

You thought of Vincent, his arms around you, holding you close, outside the library. Tears spilled as you cursed yourself, wishing you blew off Dan to accompany Vincent. Wanted to sleep in Vincent's arms like you had been almost every night since you started dating.

"Sweets?" Bo patted your cheek, "You good?"

You snapped your attention to Bo, his thumb whipping away your tears, "Might be in the shower but your red eyes are giving you away." He kissed you, tongue running along your lips.

Bo retched back, hand raised up to his cheek, he looked at his fingers, the blood trailing down.

You held a feral look, your eyes hed a feral glare, your nails with blood being cleaned by the running hot water.

"I. Want. Vincent!" You punctuated each word. Teeth bared to the tall man in front of you. You looked through him, not taking in his baby blues, his confused expression.

Bo gave you a booming laugh, you jumped as he grabbed your wrist, "Five days of this and you still want him. I thought I could get you cock drunk on me."

Be spun you around as he pushed you against the tile. Your front pressed into the slimy uncleaned surface had you gagging.

You steadied a breath again, letting your mind race to Vincent. Not Bo poking his cock along your entrance.

"Y'know, you should be pregnant by now, I think the other whole is a little lonely." You fought back a scream.

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

Vincent ran through the campus, running up to the Flamingo dorms. He had no time to think about how silly it was that the campus dorms have animal mascots.

Brahms burst through the dorm's door. Pulling on his jacket as he scratched his stubble.

Vincent ran up to him, knowing his girlfriend was a friend of his own, "Hey, Brahms, you seen Y/n? Has your girl seen her?"

"No, Princess hasn't seen her."

Vincent would normally smirk at Brahm's nickname for his girl. It was fitting, Brahms did treat her like a Princess. The gifts, the lavish vacation he took her on, she was even invited to a family wedding.

"She did mention that she has yet to get ahold of her though, apparently Dan is upset that they missed their study dates."

Vincent slapped his leg in frustration.

"I haven't seen her in five days. I've talked with my brother but I haven't seen him either." Vincent breathed in heavily, he staggered back.

Brahms reached for him, steadying his friend, "Bo probably took her."

Vincent's eye went wide.

"I mean, think about it, is it that hard to get to that conclusion. You fuck her, start dating her, flaunt how good you've both been to each other. Bo's always been, Bo. Masking his insecurity with macho bravado, hitting on pretty girls, and when they take the low-hanging fruit it fuels his ego. For a day, at least. And the one girl who managed to escape his low-level bullshit falls into his brother's arms, of course, he's pissed."

Vincent clenched his fist, "You justifying my brother?"

"No," Brahms stood up straight, arms over his chest, "Remember when I punched him for bugging my Princess? He tried to jump me a week later. For me," Brahms gave Vincent a cocky smile, "Was nothing. I can only imagine if he had anger towards a female."

Vincent's blood went cold at Brahms words. "Y'sure?"

"Hm, I am an actor! I observe people constantly, I am not known as the best method actor this school has ever had for nothing!" Brahms puffed up his chest, his cocky smile faded as he watched Vincent's shakes become near tremors.

"Look, Vincent, Have you been to the police, her parents, sibling? or whatever?" Brahms leaned closer to Vincent, a sympathetic hand remained on his shoulder.

"Yeah...her parents said...she sounded a little shaken up but fine. They said it was stress. The police are useless."

Brahms laughed, "When are they useful?" He frowned when Vincent shot him a glare.

"Okay, no joking, though not a joke, Look, I'll get Princess later and us three can go around asking for her, okay. I'll even ask my drama teacher to put pressure on the campus police."

Vincent nodded a weak defeated nod.

His hope had been diminishing day by day. He missed class and called into work. The past five days were spent on you, finding you, wanting you back in his arms. The sick feeling in his gut knew you were being held by him...the other half of him.

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You sat on the bed, your clothes back over your, the warmth they offered little comfort.

"Okay, Sweets, we're gonna get going, alright?" He nudged your shoulder.

"I need to get back to class, Bo. I need to finish my degree." You said lifelessly as if on autopilot.

"You will don't worry." He kissed the crown of your head, inhaling your scent. "Sweets you smell so damn good. So clean for her Daddy."

Your throat felt tight, the urge to barf suppressed as you pinched yourself.

"Why did you cheat on me?"

Bo looked down at you, head cocked, "Cheat on you?"

"Yes."

"I never cheated on you."

"Don't fucking lie to me, Bo!"

He stepped back, hand running over his bandaged cheek. He composed himself, leaning over you, "You better watch your tone." He growled.

The past five days had gotten to you, a resentment, and anger bubbled to the surface, "You date me, Cheat on me, on valentine's day. And you expect me to never be angry, never be upset. And you get mad when I cheat on you. fuck you, Bo. I meant nothing to you. You're nothing to me."

You screamed as Bo shoved you down onto the bed, his large hands pressed hard into your arms, he huffed above you, "Nothing to me? Did I not just spend the last five days lovin' you? Being intimate with you? Shared the most wonderful experience two people together could experience together?"

He shook you as you failed to answer, "Hm? That Valentine's day meant everything to you. This meant everything to you." Bo kissed your tears, gritted his teeth and he shook your head under him.

Bo cheated, he knew this. Knew why he cheated. Self-sabotage as always.

How could someone so sweet, caring, friendly, and loving as you fall for him, why would you? Bo was awful, downright awful, his own parents even said so.

"You'll see, Sweets, you'll see our love grow within you."

You sobbed under him, you murmured Vincent's name, repeating it over and over, as if you said it enough he'd burst through the door, saving you from Bo's hell.

[gravegroves]

ace nancy 👀?? from your wips?

I'm gonna preffice this by warning that Billy knows about Asexuality but isn't all that good at explaining it or the nuanced spectrum of being Ace. Also it's the 80's, so please read the following with that in mind. (Clarification comes later in the fic)

So this fic is about Billy being pressganged by Mr Clark into joining the debate team for the State Championships for extra credit. Nancy would rather have a Demodog chomp her left leg off than team up with Billy Hargrove, but things have a way of working out.

A few excerpts:

"Be honest Wheeler, did Harrington make you come even once?"

Nancy blushes.

"Oh, holy shit, he really didn't, did he?" 

"I didn't say that--" Nancy insists, loudly.

Billy laughs, "Oh, you didn't have to, Princess. Your face says it all."

"Shut up, Hargrove, just…" Nancy huffs in frustration and goes back to picking at the label a little more aggressively, "Just don't."

"Hey, I'm not judging you, that's all on Harrington. What a dick."

"He's not really. Not anymore. It's just," Her nail finally catches and she rips another strip of wet, sticky label off the bottle and flings it into the grass, "He was my first, you know? I didn't know what to do or how to - to move, and then it was over and I just remember thinking, is that all it is? And then I thought, maybe I'm just not good at it yet, maybe I just need to try again."

She sniffs, reaches up to wipe her face and Billy realises with a sickening lurch in his stomach that Wheeler is crying. He stares at her, frozen solid with uncertainty about what to do.

"And then I thought maybe there's something wrong with him, you know?" Her voice turns bitter. "Like, why couldn't he make it good for me? It's not like I hadn't heard about the other girls talking about Steve before we got together. None of them had any complaints." 

"But then I got together with Jonathan and I thought this feeling, this is what I was missing. But-- it didn't fix anything! It didn't fix me."

Billy flounders a little, but ultimately goes with the first thing that pops into his head. "There isn't anything wrong with you, Wheeler."

Nancy cackles a little, sways on the spot, the drink clearly loosening her tongue as well as her body. "Yeah? You gonna show me what I've been missing out on, huh? You wanna take me for a ride in your Camaro, Billy?"

Billy gags a little at the thought, luckily Nancy is too preoccupied by taking another swig from her bottle to notice.

"Oh yeah, that'd end really fucking well."

*****

"You literally did an hour long presentation on Nicola Tesla last semester and spent a quarter of it talking about why he never got married. Don't tell anyone I said this, but you're not exactly stupid. Don't fail me now, Wheeler."

Nancy blinks, looks likes she's thinking real fucking hard. Maybe Billy spoke too soon.

"You ever heard of the term asexual?"

"I think so?" She says, slowly, sounding out the words with deliberate care and turning it into a question. A valley grows between her brows in concentration. "The farmers at the spring festival talked about-- about culling a rooster because it wouldn't, like, mount the hens naturally. I'm sure that's the term he used. 

"Jesus Christ." Billy sucks deeply on his cigarette. "It means you don't wanna fuck." Billy frowns, waves his hand dismissively. "Like, you can like it just fine, but you don't think about it like most people do. Something like that."

Nancy straightens of her slouch to lean back and stare at him, jerking a little when she overbalances and steadies herself by grabbing the crook of Billy's elbow. "That doesn't sound normal."

He shrugs a little, takes one last pull from the cigarette before flicking the butt at the ground.  "What the fuck is normal, huh?" He grinds the butt into the gravel and turns to look at her, "Let's get you back on your pea, princess. I think you've had enough for one night."

He holds out a hand.

Nancy takes it.

*****

Billy jerks out of doze when someone drops into the seat next to him. He already knows who it's gonna be before he turns to look.

"Morning Wheeler, you get lost on the way to your seat?"

Billy looks around pointedly, his little nook in the back of the bus cut off from the rest of the group by a good five or six rows of empty seats. Far enough to get the point across that Billy isn't there by choice or planning to socialise with any of these nerds.

"No." She says simply.

"You sure? Seems like an awful lot of empty seats for you to be getting all friendly. How's the head?"

Nancy ignores him. Stares at the back of the seat in front of her like it gave her a less than a perfect grade. She purses her lips in that awful way that reminds Billy of a cat's asshole, but she doesn't run off in a huff like he expects.

"You're right." She says, still not looking at him. He watches a muscle tick in her jaw as she grinds her teeth.

He grins.

"You about to have a heart to heart with me, Wheeler? Gotta know whether or not to turn the volume up on these things." He gestures to the headphones pushed partially off his left ear.

She turns her head and regards him cooly for a beat, before a hand shoots out and bats the thing off his head with a quick swipe.

"Watch it!" Billy scrambles to catch them by the cord before they fall to the floor.

Nancy smiles sweetly, "Don't be a dick, Hargrove."

He rolls his eyes.

"Bitch."

"Slut."

"Whore."

She shoots him a pitying look. "Oh Billy, we both know Christie Otto paid you twenty bucks to let her suck your toes."

Billy guffaws, taken completely by surprise and loving it.

Nancy stares, disbelieving.

"You actually did it?"

Billy grins.

Her face does a complicated thing before settling on a confused expression. "But why?"

"Twenty bucks is a hell of a lot of dough for us mere peasants, Princess."

Billy screws his face up, tries not to squirm uncomfortably in his seat at the memory,  "Maybe I should have warned her that I'm ticklish. Almost kicked her face in, like, three times."

Nancy coughs. Covers her mouth as she laughs into her hands, like she doesn't want him to see that he made her laugh.

"Not that this isn't nice and all--"

"Oh, I'm sorry, you got somewhere to be, Hargrove?" She snaps, deadpan, but Billy can tell she's nervous from the way she wrings her hands and hides them up her sleeves.

"I just wanted to say thank you--"

"Don't mention it, Wheeler." He says, hastily. Actually he'd prefer it if they never spoke about it ever again.

She glares at the interruption, but presses on. "-- thank you and I wanted to know if I could talk to you. More. About it."

And now it's Billy's turn to stare. Nancy meets his eyes with a determined gaze. Whatever shit Tommy and the rest of the school likes to say about Nancy Wheeler, she's got stones, he'll give her that.

"Alright."

*****

The topic is announced.

Gay marriage.

Berkeley for. Hawkins against.

They win by a landslide.

Of course they do.

The team from Berkeley registers a formal complaint with the panel the second the win is announced. Mr Scott and his Berkeley counterpart are waved up to approach the judges table. Billy wants desperately to leave, but he's forced to sit and watch the Berkeley debate coach protest the unfair conditions his team had been placed under.

"No one in their right mind would chose to side with us on such a topic. No matter how well my kids argue their case."

"I'm afraid I disagree." Mr. Clarke argues. "We debate politically and morally charged topics all the time, Mr. Davenport. The judges judge how well you present your side, not their own personal beliefs.

Billy snorts. Feels unclean after having to stand on that stage and tell the world how unfit people like him are to love. To form families. To be allowed to simply be.

Even if it's all hypothetical, Billy knows those words came damn easily out of his team mates mouths, just as the words of support clearly left a sour after-taste in their opponents.

Nancy turns to look at him.

Fuck it.

Billy gets up and stalks out of the hall. Fuck it all to shit.

[goatbi]

The Return

In one universe, the arrow fired by Uryu Ishida didn't do too much. It helped, yes, but it was not the end of Yhwach, the tyrant did not die, not yet, not then, and he made the promise to return to ruin their happiest moment.

This is not the universe. Which is good for many reasons.

The arrow struck true, as Uryu Ishida was not know to miss, and Yhwach was struck with the power that he had used against many unworthy, unclean, hybrid Quincy in the past, turning against him. It burned, like the flames of the now dead Captain Commander, and Yhwach died screaming, begging for a mercy that would not come.

After all, he had never given anyone else mercy.

This was not the end, however. Uryu wavered on his feet, exhaustion piling into his body, but it was not over yet, it was not, it couldn't be, because-

And there they went.

In reverse, their spirits returned. Bodies far too long dead to be worth it, but the spirits of those Yhwach consumed returned, from the entire thousand years that Yhwach had stayed hidden away. The Sternritter he had killed came first, and then came the ones Uryu was waiting for, the ones he was expected, but he knew there was one person-perhaps two, but not three-who deserved this warning, and thus, he ran, uncoordinated and clumsy, so unlike himself, and collided with Ichigo's side.

Ichigo blinked, steadying him on impulse, and Uryu looked up at him with eyes already full of tears, excitement burning in his bones.

"She's gonna come back. Your mother. I know this, trust me on this, Ichigo, she's not gonna be alive, but she's gonna be here and you're gonna be able to see her again."

Ichigo would have frowned, scowled and barked at him that this wasn't a funny joke, Uryu, but Uryu never called him by his first name, and Ichigo had never seen him cry before, and there were spirits of people he didn't know appearing in the ashes of Yhwach's body, and maybe Uryu would be wrong, but Uryu looked so convinced now that Ichigo paused, and looked at him, really looked at him closely, the heaving breath, the slight, almost unknown grin, the teary eyes, and Ichigo had to believe that Uryu truly believed what he was saying right now.

"How do you know that?" Ichigo asked, unwilling to believe it that easily, and Uryu grinned.

"The silver of that arrowhead, it reverses the Auswählen, and that is why your mother died in the first place. That hollow got a little bit of her soul, but not all of it. I know this, Kurosaki, because my mother fell into a coma the same day yours died, from the Auswählen. She's here. You deserved the warning." Uryu was shaking, and Ichigo held him up, and felt, for a moment, that he could trust Uryu, despite everything, because he was turning away, eyes darting through the throngs of Quincies that were coming back to themselves, stepping back into the light after living inside a monster for so long.

"There!" Uryu stood, pointing into the throngs, and it drew attention, not only from Ichigo, but from their fathers, their friends, the people that had come towards them when Uryu ran to Ichigo, and they turned as one, looking to where Uryu was pointing with such conviction and-

She wasn't fully formed yet, but it was her, with no doubt. Masaki Kurosaki, her eyes opening as her spirit reformed around her, and she turned, hearing a voice that sounded so familiar but not, and spotted her son, and the son of one of her friends, and she smiled all at once, that normal bright smile that Ichigo had remembered, and he felt something in him crumble to pieces.

Uryu was laughing, a bright joyous thing that Ichigo had never heard from him before, letting go of Ichigo's arms to wrap them around himself, so that Ichigo's zanpakuto's could drop, not all the way to the floor, but now held limply in his hands as he faced the mother he thought he would never get to see again, and she moved to him, smiling all the while.

"It worked..." Uryu was mumbling to himself, rocking on his feet with a grin on his face that Ichigo suddenly understood. They were both mama's boys, he knew that long before now, but if his mother was back, than surely Uryu's would follow soon enough. Masaki stopped in front of Ichigo, cupping his face gently in his hands and wiping tears he hadn't realized were there.

"Oh, you've grown so much." She smiled, holding his face in her hands. He was taller than her now, but as he leaned forwards, zanpakuto's dropping to the floor and wrapping his arms around her as if she would disappear if he didn't, he felt like a nine year old boy again, small and terrified in her hold, while she made it all better just by being there for him.

Uryu's eyes were still scanning the throngs of people, and he felt panic begin to seize his heart. What if using the silver from his mother prevented her from returning? Ichigo's mother was already back, and they were struck nearly at the same time, so it would make sense that she be back by now, Yhwach couldn't have possible had that much Quincy fodder to snatch up, it didn't make sense, and he tensed, coiling tighter and tighter like a spring ready to snap-

"She'll come back, Uryu." Masaki was looking at him now, her arms wrapping tight around Ichigo, one hand in his hair as he lay his head on her shoulder and shook in silence. Uryu stared at her, remember small, faint memories of her when he was very young, young enough that he maybe shouldn't be able to remember it, but she knew him, and that was enough for a small bit of comfort.

"You're certain?" He sounded so small, and he hated it, knowing Ryuken was behind him, watching this unfold, watching his son collapse-Speaking of, Isshin was behind them too, so why hadn't; Nevermind, family hug, there it goes-and Uryu couldn't help but feel ashamed, as he always did showing a single emotion around the man who could never be a father.

"I know more stories than you were ever told even existed, my dear boy." Masaki smiled at him so kindly, from under Isshin's arm. "I am certain. Katagiri will show."

And Uryu took that at face value, trusted in the woman that Ichigo trusted with his life, and turned back out to the throngs of people, arms wrapped tight around himself as they began to mile about, reunite with each other, and the Shinigami suffered under the realization that if they had truly killed Yhwach, they would have killed hundreds, if not a few thousand, people that he had consumed over his lifetime as well.

He stared, and he stared, and he felt each passing moment weight like a century on him, as he waited, for any moment, any sign, and the group Kurosaki hug had broken by then, they were talking to each other, quiet voices, and Masaki was looking at him, and Uryu hated it because he felt like he was being pitied and-

There!

He took off like a bullet, dodging between people reuniting, hearing Ichigo call after him-his given name, but Uryu couldn't find it in him to give a shit. Ichigo had earned that right by now-and ran, as fast as he could manage, and he collided with her, almost knowing Katagiri to the floor, but she just laughed as soon as she realized who that bullet of a person was, wrapping her arms tight around him, and hugged him tight, like she was hugging the little broken pieces of him back together, fixing it all up in the way mothers where known to do.

Uryu didn't even register sinking to the floor with her, didn't register the choked sobs catching in his dry throat, didn't register the stinging burn of wounds he had forgotten about retorn by his running, all he knew was his mother, and Katagiri hummed, wrapping him tight and letting him cling.

Soon, they would have to get up, and Uryu would have to face the consequences of betraying his friends-though he didn't know at the time that they really didn't care, they just wanted him safe, and he had a good reason after all.

Soon, Uryu would have to stare down Ryuken for his own actions-but Katagiri hovered at his shoulder, eyes deadly and angry, and perhaps the stories of what a spirit was aware of after the Auswählen would have been handy for them in this moment, since she knew everything that had gone on in their absence, and Katagiri was not happy with her husband

Soon, they would have to start rebuilding, fixing the world and finding places to settle all of the new souls, and the Soul King's absence-but that was going to be okay too, since the new Captain Commander was so kind to them, understanding, helpful, were the old had been too set in his face to accept this new reality.

Those would all come in the future. For now, Uryu let his walls shatter, and clung to his mother again after everything, and sobbed.

He deserved it after all.

[clownistyping]

A Witch & A Hick, Chp. 3

Little Secret

This chapter is just the two learning about each other and car problems lol.

Also warning for Elizabeth offering sex as payment lol, it doesn't happen. Also I do hc Lester living in a trailer bc its extremely common and realistic tbh.

Lester puts the truck in drive and looks at Elizabeth as he presses the brake, 

"I remember you said there's a town nearby, any chance we can go there to fix up my van?" Elizabeth asks as she pets the two dogs, 

"No need, they'll charge ya criminal prices. I can fix it." Criminal prices, he repeats in his head. 

"Oh come on, you've already done so much." Elizabeth says her face soft, 

"I insist! I can't just let them uh take ya money when I can fix it for free." He smiles and Elizabeth mirrors it. Lester gives from the brakes and drives towards his home, 

"I have a feeling there's something...more behind this." Lester gulps, 

"What made ya think that?" Lester nervously laughs and his hands tighten around the wheel, 

"That's how most men are, expect a favor for a favor. Though they often expect ya know." Lester blinks and cringes, 

"Aw that! I wasn't thinking anything like that, hell I wasn't even thinking about you doing anything." 

"I mean I'll do it." His eyes widen and he stops the truck again, 

"What?" He blushes and looks at the girl, 

"I'll get you off, I've done it before." 

"No no! I have to decline, I just ain't that kinda man." Lester nods to the woman who shrugs, he lied. He is that kinda man, he's had victims beg for safety with offers of sex. He always took it, but let's the girls fall back in the hands of his brothers. 

"Not that I don't find ya pretty!" He defends quickly and Elizabeth laughs, 

"You're real purdy, I just. I just can't." He sighs and Elizabeth notices how tense he is. 

"Thanks, for calling me pretty." She smiles, 

"I think you're real pretty too." She compliments Lester who blushes again, Lester has never talked to a stranger this long. Never had a girl call him pretty, never met her.

"Ya just sayin that cuz I'm given ya a ride." Lester chuckles and Elizabeth shakes her head, 

"Nope," she pops her P, 

"Everybody's beautiful in they're own way, just as nature intended." Lester blinks and remembers her van, the witchy collection in it. 

"Oh right, you're a witch!" Lester exclaims and Elizabeth nods, 

"How'd you know?" She teased and Lester laughs,

"How'd you even get in all that junk anyways?" Lester asks and flicks his hat, 

"It ain't junk. Don't be rude," Elizabeth smirks and Lester nods his head, Jonesey puts her head on Lester's lap. He pets the dogs head. 

"Sorry but, how did you ya know..start?" 

"My sister got me my tarot cards, she really showed me the basics of witchcraft. Our parents didn't really care all that much but never let us do it in the house. Guess that's why I moved out so early too." Elizabeth laughs, 

Lester pulls up towards a driveway of a trailer.

The trailer is a once white single wide, covered in vines and ivy. Bones hung from the porch ceiling, 

Elizabeth notices his front door was wide open, and in the yard were scatters of trash, car parts, bones and more. The windows were open but blinds were keeping the inside blocked. 

It looks like nobody lives there, as stray cats scurried under the trailer and hissed at each other.

"I'll be quick, I'll just unload your van and fix her right up in a jiffy." Lester smiles at the girl and gets out of the truck, Jonesey follows and Mac follows after her. 

Elizabeth smiles as she watches the two dogs sniff around and play, getting out of the truck her barefeet sink into the grass and dirt. She stretches, the truck wasn't entirely comfortable with Mac siting right on her. 

"Sorry for the mess, I don't really have guests." Lester says as he unhooks the van, 

"Its fine, I've seen much worse." 

"Nah, doubt it." Lester shakes his head and wipes his hands on his jeans, Elizabeth takes note of the depreciation joke he says. 

As Lester pops her hood and smoke rises from it, Elizabeth frowns. 

"That happened before?" Lester asks as he waves the smoke off, Elizabeth nods. 

"Yeah, I've had a couple engine problems. Mainly because of oil, but my light wasn't even on." 

"Yup, cars will do that. Just spring a problem on ya right as ya were doing fine." Lester grazes his hand over the engine and instantly finds the problem, 

"When's the last time ya changed the cooling fan?" 

"Never." 

"Cleaned it?" 

"Never." Lester sighs and Elizabeth frowns, 

"That bad?" He nods, 

"Your engine is busted, you're gonna need a new one." 

"Nooooo." Elizabeth groans

"Hey its okay, this happens all the time. It's just an accident." Lester tries to comfort the girl, she squats and hides in her knees. 

"Hey now," Lester gets on his knee and pats the girls back. 

"We can maybe order one from the next town over, but it'll take a while for it to come in since we're basically in the middle of no where." Lester then sits with the girl and he blinks when he hears a sob come from her. 

"Jeez darlin, it ain't anything to cry about." He says and Elizabeth looks up, her makeup more runny than before, 

"This is my karma! I know it is and- and I shouldn't be cryin-ing but-" she hides her face again and Lester stutters, 

"Aw no no, this ain't karma just an accident. Honest." 

He isn't entirely sure what else to do, seen plenty of girls cry in Ambrose. Ain't none of them cried like this. 

Crying about karma, hell if karma was real he'd be dead, he thinks and shakes his head. He gently pats the girls back as she sobs. The two dogs show up and sit around the two Mac places his head on the girls back. Pushing Lester's hand away, Elizabeth quickly hugs her dog.

After a couple minutes, her sobs stop and she looks up. 

"Im sorry Lester, I just. It's just been a lot today," she says and wipes her eyes, smudging her makeup. 

"Wanna talk about it?" Lester ask and Elizabeth looks around, noticing the sun is starting to set. 

"No, not right now. I'm just tired now, sorry for bothering you with my emotions and junk." 

"Ain't no bother at all, I'm happy to help." She shows a smile from his words as he stands, he puts his hand out and she takes it to stand. 

"I know, and thanks again. Do you think it's alright if my van stays the night? I'll try to go to another town in the morning and order an engine. I'll find a motel too." She says, trying to clean her face up from tears and makeup. 

Lester raises a brow, and Elizabeth shakes her head already knowing he'll offer his home. 

"Lester please you've already done so much for me! I promise that by tomorrow I'll be out of your hair." She says and Lester shakes his head, 

"Darlin, How about we both go into town order you an engine and when it gets here I can put it in. If you think I'm letting you sleep in that hot van for the night you're dead wrong." Lester stands up straight and crosses his arms, Elizabeth actually has to look up to see his face. 

"I've got a spare room, it's messy and mainly holds all my junk but it's got a bed, a desk and a closet." Lester says and Elizabeth takes a deep breathe, 

"Thank you," she says and Lester uncrosses his arms, 

"I mean it, without you I'd probably be kidnapped by some crazy guy. Unless you are the crazy guy." She jokes and Lester nervously laughs.

"I like to call myself unqiue." Lester jokes and Elizabeth laughs, 

"That you are friend, that you are." Elizabeth says and watches as the sun falls behind the trees.

After grabbing her needed things from the van, the two walk towards the trailer. 

The two walk onto the wooden porch, Elizabeth's hands grazing the bones hanging above, 

"Those are my people repellents, makes hikers skedaddle." Lester jokes and Elizabeth smiles, 

"They're beautiful," she compliments and Lester walks through the open door, 

"Yup, they sure are. I uh, I keep my door open so the strays can come in and relax and get away from the heat." He says and flicks on a light, it blinks a few times but turns on. 

The two are standing in the living room, the couches covered in fur and scratches. Clothes are all around and clean and unclean bones sit on the coffee table. 

But the recliner is free of fur, just a flannel on the back. 

Lester notices his playboy magazine on the coffee table and quickly snatches up the magazine, Rolling it up he laughs embarrassingly. 

"Sorry about that, again not often I get guests." Elizabeth smiles and shakes her head. From behind the two, Mac and Jonesey come running in. They jump on the couch and sit next to each other. 

"My house is there house." Lester pets Jonesy's head and smiles, putting the magazine behind the couch during this. He turns to face Elizabeth whose staring at the bones, 

"I'll show you to ya room," Lester walks to the right and opens a bedroom door, 

The bedroom filled with bones in boxes, books, clothes and random knick knacks. He quickly lifts boxes from the bed and pats the dust off. 

"My casa your casa." He smiles and Elizabeth places her stuff down, Lester stands in the doorway now. 

"Thanks again, Lester. I really appreciate it." Elizabeth puts her hand out and Lester looks down at it. It's so small, he gently grabs it and Elizabeth grabs one of the bracelets on her wrist. She brings it over her hand and onto his, 

"I can't not give you a gift." She says and lets him go, Lester looks down at the bracelet. A whole set of animal teeth with beads in between. 

"I- thank you. It's so purdy." He says and continues, 

"You're a real uh...what's it called?" 

"Freak?" He quickly shakes his head, and takes her hand again. Putting their wrists together with the bracelets, 

"Unique," he smiles, "You're a real unique girl." 

"Is it because I mess with bones and junk?" 

"Well that, and because you're real nice." Elizabeth smiles, 

"You're just as unique as me Lester." She says and the two look at each other for a second, wanting this conversation not to end but not sure how to continue. 

Suddenly from behind Lester, Mac barks. 

Elizabeth laughs, 

"It's past his bedtime, sorry he gets cranky when he's not in bed by this time." Lester let's the dog run past him and onto the bed, 

"Well, goodnight, um. Sleep tight?" 

"You too Lester." Elizabeth quietly shuts her door and Lester stares at the closed door. Jonesy whines from behind him, 

Lester turns to the dog and squats, he pets the dogs cheeks and smiles. 

"She'll be our little secret, right Jonesey?" The dog licks his face. 

[greencrusader13]

All Were Innocent Once: Chapter 12 - The Job

This chapter is one in which Cirak’s...tendencies come a bit more out to play, and as such I tweaked the chapter a bit for my audience on FF.net compared to my audience on AO3, since the former has the fic at a rating of T while the other has an M rating. Please keep that in mind when clicking a link to follow. The chapter below is the T-version, so if you want the more risque version go to the story on AO3.

FF.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13118981/12/All-Were-Innocent-Once

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17043032/chapters/66526336

Summary: having now been assisted by the bounty hunter Braden and his associate - a Mandalorian by the name of Dekon Arrun - Cirak listens to their proposition, one that might entail a payday unlike any he’s earned before.

“So let me get this straight,” Cirak said, watching the swirling ice cubes in his glass like racers around a track as he flicked his wrist. “You want our help tracking down an infamous criminal who - supposedly - has near unlimited resources, his own private army of paid mercenaries, and is known for being able to vanish without a trace the moment anyone shows up on his doorstep.” He leveled Braden with an inquisitive look as he downed the remainder of his alcohol. “Sounds easy enough. Why can’t you and the wonder-Mando do it?”

Cirak shot a glance towards the Mandalorian as he mentioned him, Braden’s answer fading into the background as he searched. He’d taken to a booth alone at the far side of the cantina, back turned to the ambience it so welcomingly provided. It felt like a small slice of Nar Shaddaa jam-packed into a desert hovel, unclean to the point of pungency and so loud he could barely hear either of his companions when they spoke, not that he paid them much attention anyways. Mere feet away from their table a green-skinned twi’lek woman made her way around center-stage as violet light illuminated her aggressively-sensuous movements. On occasion she’d shed another article of what little clothing she already wore, eliciting a whoop or holler from the patrons, Cirak himself included.

The dancer drew closer, and for the briefest of moments they locked eyes.  “You come here often?” she asked in Huttese, her voice barely audible over the din of the music.

“Not often enough,” he responded in kind. “Maybe I should start, if the desert really holds such beauty.” Cirak flashed a rakish smile and raised his glass to her.

She winked, and then returned to her dance.

Grinning, Cirak turned his gaze back to Dekon, who had now taken apart his blaster on the table, either oblivious or - worse - disinterested by the life around them. Stupid Mando doesn’t know how to have fun, Cirak thought, watching the dancer’s body move around the shimmering pole.

Taelros snapped his fingers in front of Cirak’s face, breaking him from the trance. “Kid, when you ask for clarification, don’t let your ears wander with your eyes. These gals aren’t anything you wouldn’t find anywhere else in the galaxy, and with the right job you could buy yourself a hundred dances. Now pay attention: there’s credits to be earned.”

“It’s alright Tael,” Braden said, raising a calming hand. “We’ve all been young before. Although-” he leveled a stern look at Cirak- “Bounty hunters who let themselves think with anything other than their heads tend to not last very long in the business. Keep that in mind.”

“Braden, you have no idea how often this kid thinks with just his blaster, if you follow my understanding. A few years back on Onderon-”

“Stars not this again.”

Taelros took a drink and waved Cirak off. “It’s a fun story, but we shouldn’t get sidetracked any longer. Not when there’s credits to be earned. To save Braden the time of recapping, in short, Cirak, too many hostiles for a two man job, too closely guarded for something requiring precision. And we have more resources than them, what with Meruna and Deim making up for what they lack in specialized roles. We’ll hit hard and hit fast before he can flee and vanish again.”

“Rell Syrn rarely ever sticks around for very long in one place for very long,” Braden continued, “He tends to avoid drawing attention to himself. Keeps away from personally conducting business on overly-populated planets like Coruscant or Nar Shaddaa and sends agents whenever he can. Has a pleasure yacht that nobody ever boards and that he very rarely ever leaves, which he keeps floating around various moons around the galaxy for short spans of time. Never the same one twice. Has a hobby for trophy hunting large game, which is when we’re gonna hit him.” He reached into his pocket and produced a holomap, which he displayed on the table. “He’ll be heading to Cholganna next.”

Cirak leaned in closer, studying the forest planet. “So...what, he’s gonna hunt Nexu? Hardly a unique hobby.”

Braden shook his head. “Cholganna has an indigineous population that’s not yet achieved spaceflight. Separate tribes and whatnot. Hardly capable of resisting blasterfire or more advanced toys.” He pursed his lips, allowing his expression to tell the rest.

“Ah. So he’s scum.”

“Pretty much, but that’s not why we’re getting paid to take him down,” Taelros said. 

“Last week some corsairs under his employ struck an Imperial stealth cruiser. Usual raid and whatnot, except they found something on there that the Imps want back. Badly. Some sort of information they were carrying really wasn’t supposed to fall into anyone else’s hands. And he recognizes it too; supposedly he killed all the corsairs who were on the raid just to keep it from leaking out. They don’t want him alive. Dead only, six million credits.”

Cirak’s eyes bulged at the bounty value, and he gagged on his drink. He wiped the spillage from his lips with the back of his hand. “I’m kriffing sorry, how much?”

“Six million, kid. Split six ways is a million for each of us.” Taelros smirked. “Now aren’t you glad you’re listening to me and not oogling some dancer?”

“Don’t blame me for knowing how to spend a good time, unlike Mando-boy over there.” Cirak pointed back at the Mandalorian’s booth with his thumb.

Braden’s gaze drifted over to where Dekon sat. “You ever heard of the Great Hunt, Kiht?”

“Can’t say I have.”

“It started out as a Mandalorian tradition out on Dxun, but has since opened up to any interested bounty hunters in the galaxy. You’re given the hardest contracts, the most dangerous of the dangerous, and have to hunt them down. At the end a Grand Champion is determined the winner. Rumor has it that Mandalore is considering holding another one soon.” Braden pointed at Dekon, who was just finishing loading a blaster pistol. “That man right there is the next Grand Champion, I guarantee it.”

Cirak shrugged, grimacing. “He doesn’t seem like all that to me.”

“He has hunter’s instincts like nothing I’ve ever seen. Brains just as much as brawn. I’d bet credits on him to take down a rancor with just his fists if the wager came up.”

“Then why doesn’t he just do this himself?”

Braden took a drink. “Like I said, this job has accentuated circumstances.”

“You sure it isn’t a trap? This job I mean. If the Imps want this data so badly, and it’s this valuable, what’s stopping them from just offing us once it’s done?”

Taelros shrugged. “We can burn that bridge when we get to it. Meanwhile, if we get this done right, and if we don’t get double-crossed, we’ll have good friends in the Galactic Empire, plus some cash for spending.”

Cash for spending felt almost like an insulting understatement. During all his years since joining Taelros’ crew, he’d never been a part of a job that held such a vast reward. Most of their contractors were petty crime lords wanting a rival dealt with, or some local government putting a warrant out on someone too dangerous for their own people to handle. On a rare occasion they’d get a contract from a Hutt, but those situations were far and few between. Even then, most of their earnings just went right back to The Reaper’s Prophet for upkeep, or towards their own resupplying for future jobs. By the time things were said and done, he had little money of his own for spending. When he did…

Cirak nodded towards Taelros. “Was the contact at the spaceport, the one for Woth?”

“Yeah, he was, and I’ve forwarded your credits to your account. Already did the deductions for you this time. Go do your thing.”

“What’s this?” asked Braden.

“It’s nothing. Not worth-”

Before he could finish speaking, cheers erupted from across the cantina again. He looked up in time to see the dancer twirl one final time in a rush of silver and scarlet cloth. She bowed, and then strode confidently back behind a curtain on the stage’s end.

Cirak smirked. “I’ll be outside. As wonderful as the sights are in here, I think I might get too distracted when the next one hits the stage.”

“You do that kid,” Taelros said, rising to his feet simultaneously with Cirak. “Braden and I will finish loading up the ship, get her spaceworthy by tomorrow. Might even try to pick up a few more bounties while we’re here.” He shoved a stern-yet-playful finger into Cirak’s chest. “Have your fun, but make sure you’re aboard before we take off. I don’t want a repeat of Chandrila.”

“For the record Tael, you’re the one who took off without checking if I was on board.” Cirak yelled back as he turned, waving a playful farewell as he moved across the cantina. “And it was worth it! You wouldn’t have wanted that noise on the ship!” From the corner of his eye he saw the Mando turn towards the noise, his unseen eyes watching Cirak from beneath the helmet. He could only imagine the glare the armored mercenary was shooting at him. Cirak felt his own mood sour at the sight, even amid the music and lights. He pressed on.

Once outside, Cirak stopped and looked around. Mos Ila had grown quieter as dusk approached. Earlier the streets had been filled with an eclectic mix of all the strange species the galaxy had to offer, bartering and browsing and aimlessly wandering about. Most had returned to their homes; only a small collection of three Jawas remained visible on the block, poking away at some dysfunctional droid they would later take and scrap for parts; it sat there lethargically, seemingly oblivious to its inevitable fate. 

Off in the distance a binary sunset colored the sky in hues of orange and violet. It had a sort of contemplative calm to it. Such natural beauty was uncommon on typical adventures, and for a moment it took Cirak by surprise. He could only stare in silence, watching enraptured as they inched closer to the horizon line. Something stirred in his chest, a longing he hadn’t felt for several years

Cirak shook his head and returned to his task, removing his personal holopad from his pack and logging onto the holonet. The banner at the top of the familiar website read “Coruscant Horizons Mutual: Your #1 provider for all your banking needs” in thick black lettering, the skyline of the planet clear in the background. A mixed family stood in the foreground, the human mother holding up her daughter while a Mirialan father stood beside them with his hand on his wife’s shoulder. Typical image crap, meant to deceive the average person into unearned trust, true of any bank. In reality any banker would set fire to that little family if it meant turning more of a profit. He may be the one killing people for money, but at least he was honest about it.

Sure enough, just as Taelros had said, the earnings from their most recent hunt had been transferred into his account, all eight thousand credits-worth. At least a thousand of that would go to armor maintenance, and another thousand for his blaster pack refills. He frowned, staring at his current balance of fourteen thousand credits, soon to be even less. The swoop bike he’d seen on the holonet had been twelve thousand. If he withheld his normal plans he could afford it, barely. The thought egged him on, the bike’s roar calling him like a siren’s song. 

He blocked it out with a sigh, and continued on with his usual routine. It would have to be some other time. Cirak tapped the link that read “transfer” and selected the alternate account with the new funds.

“Are you sure you would like to transfer four thousand credits to the account “Tyar’s Savings” Mr. Kiht?”

Cirak tapped “confirm” and leaned back. He wasn’t even sure if Jedi were allowed banking accounts, or if their life of monasticism prevented them from having any personal belongings. They already lead such a restricted life, one that Cirak himself couldn’t imagine living. Perhaps they’d brainwashed him into all of their tenets, maybe he didn’t even remember his own brother, but either way the money would be there for him when he came of age.

He glanced back down at the screen. “Would you like to include a message for this transaction?”

Cirak tensed, then leaned back over his holopad. “Hey kid, hope Jedi training is going well-”

He immediately backspaced. The message sounded dumb, especially for having no contact for the past several years.

“Brother, I hope this message finds you wel-”

Backspace.

“Tyar, I’m sorry I haven’t reached o-”

Backspace.

“Take this kriffing money.”

Backspace.

Cirak sighed, refreshed the page, and then declined to send a message. If Tyar wanted to make contact another time it would be his decision, not Cirak’s. The best he could hope for was that the kid would seek him out when the time came, and that both would still be alive for that reunion.

While his holopad remained open, Cirak decided to check his mail. There was already a confirmation regarding his transfer, complete with a hackneyed thank you message from the bank, which he promptly checked for deletion. He scrolled down, deleting as he went. Most of the messages were junk anyways: advertisements for various weaponry he could find at suppliers around the galaxy, new starfighter models worth checking out, possible clients reaching out to him not realizing that he wasn’t the one who handled the new jobs, etc. One message caught Cirak’s eye, though, from a Zeltron man he’d spent time with on Manaan. The message was flirtatious in nature, requesting that Cirak look him up again if he should even be on that side of the planet again. As sweet as it was that this paramour had taken the time to look him up, Cirak only remembered parts of that night, even if those parts were good and involved drinks and dancing. He deleted that piece of mail too.

Tucking his holopad away, Cirak made his way back to the cantina. A new dancer - some human woman with blonde hair and tanned skin - had taken the stage while a fresh series of beats accentuated her steps. Tael and Braden were both gone, their seats taken by a pair of faces Cirak had seen earlier at the bar who now had their holopads out, burning credits that flickered onto the stage and floated down around the dancer as they were spent. Some thugs pushed each other in front of the bar, attracting the attention of a weequay bouncer, whose approach turned them docile once more and retreated back to their seats.

And still the Mandalorian sat in his corner booth with his back to the action, the contents of his own pack strewn out on the table.

Cirak took a seat across from him, waving down a waitress as he did. The Mandalorian didn’t even bother to look up from his assortment of junk, instead continuing to wipe at his rifle with unwavering devotion. There were at least five blaster rifle packs on the table, along with three hunting vibroblades, a thermal detonator, and various blaster parts.

“You know, in most cantinas you can get thrown out for this kind of weaponry being out in the open,” Cirak said. The Mandalorian said nothing in response, not even so much as an acknowledging grunt. “Come on, you can do maintenance when you’re on the ship. You’re missing out on the fun right now.”

The Mandalorian looked up for a moment, then turned his head back towards the dancer. “Not my idea of fun.”

“Of course it isn’t. You Mandos don’t have a concept of fun.”

“I’m focused on what’s ahead of me. The hunt. The fact that I’m focusing on that instead of skirt-chasing is what’s going to keep me around much longer than you.” He slammed a pack into his rifle and then set it on the table.

Cirak rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever. Doesn’t matter how much focus you have when things can go kriffing sideways on any given job. Might as well enjoy life while you’re living it, or else when will you?”

The Mandalorian shook his head. “Mir’osik. Short-sighted.”

“I don’t speak Mando’a, so don’t bother.”

“That you don’t speak it is the point.”

“Look,” Cirak said, leaning over the table, “I’m not any happier about working with you on this than you are, but it looks like we’re going to be stuck together for awhile, so can you cool it before I feel like putting a blaster bolt through your skull? After this job’s done we can go our separate ways, forget the other exists, and maybe, if we’re lucky, we can wind up shooting at each other on some later job when we’re on opposite sides. Okay?”

The crimson helmet twitched, and Cirak could feel the heat of the Mandalorian’s glare from underneath it. “Let’s not forget that you insulted me first when you insulted my people,” his voice crackled.

“And your people massacred mine generations ago.”

“You see history only through the lens supplied by the Republic and the remnants of your species. That you are descended from people who survived mine should fill you with pride. It speaks that you have a survivor’s soul.”

Cirak opened his mouth to speak, but found himself without words. While he found the words themselves insensitive, there was resembling complete sincerity in Dekon’s words. Without the genocidal context, it bordered on being a compliment, however harsh the tone might’ve been.

He shook his head. “Look, I didn’t want to spend my evening arguing with a warmonger. I-”

Sounds of conflict drew his attention away from his soon-to-be associate and towards the bar. The previous dancer - now clad in a more modest lounge robe - stood across from a group of three armored humans, her arms folded with a drink in hand. From the appearance of their scrappier designs and cavalcade of scars across their face, it was clear that these three were outlaws of some kind, or at least individuals as used to braving the dangers of the galaxy as Cirak was himself. Their leader wore a coy expression as he spoke to the dancer, though there was no amusement in her face, but rather one of annoyance-bordering-contempt. One partner kept a stern eye on the bouncer and a hand on his blaster, while the other seemed equally amused as the ringleader.

“I’ll be back,” Cirak said, rising.

Their words became clearer as Cirak approached. “For the last time that’s not the kind of work I do,” the dancer said, still speaking Huttese.

“Come on baby, just think of it like a different kind of pole, different kind of dance,” the man said, albeit in Basic. “Don’t be such a tease. I’ve been throwing credits at you all night. Isn’t that a good enough deed for some time with you?”

“I said no. I dance, that’s it, and I don’t spend time with people just because they think their credits mean something. Go away and let me enjoy my break in peace.”

He lunged for her wrist. “Aw you don’t have to-”

His sentence ended prematurely as the contents of the dancer’s drink found his face. “Don’t touch me!” she seethed, backing away.

The bouncer started forward, causing the one minion to start for his blaster. Cirak found his own first - his father’s holdout - unholstering it and shooting the thug’s right out of his hand. All eyes in the cantina turned towards him, the atmosphere now tense from the sound of blaster fire. Despite the blasting beats from the speakers around him, the cantina felt dead quiet.

Meanwhile the bouncer searched himself for a blaster wound with apparent wonder that he hadn’t just been shot.

“Now that I have your attention,” Cirak said, “I think you owe this lady an apology. She’s been working hard all night up on that stage, so when she says for you to leave her alone, you do what she says.” He leveled the blaster at the leader as he stepped between them and the dancer, lining the sights right up with the man’s eyes.

The leader looked to his crew, then back to Cirak with a cocked eyebrow. “Do you have any idea who it is you’re talking to? We’re the-”

“Yeah yeah, some idiots who’re feared around these parts. Take what you want, want what you take. Heard it before. Shot them too.”

“We have you three-to-one.”

Cirak glanced between the three men. “I like those odds,” he growled, “I’ll have you all dropped before your buddy there pulls out that other blaster from the back of his pants.”

The group’s leader scoffed and looked back at his men as though this were the most ludicrous thing they’d encountered together. They chuckled along with him and shrugged. Then, at once, they drew. 

It all happened in seconds. Cirak brought his blaster down hard on the leader’s nose, shattering it. The man crumpled with a pained grunt, dropping his own weapon in the process, and as he fell Cirak turned his attention to the pair behind him. They couldn’t react fast enough to their leader falling out of the way of their aim, and it took them a moment too long to readjust. Cirak’s first shot found the leftmost one right square in the forehead. He made no sound as he fell, dead instantaneously. 

Just as he was taking aim on the third the man another shot rang out, striking the thug in the chest, the force of which sent him careening over the bar counter. Cirak turned. There, still in the booth, sat Dekon of Clan Arrun, still looking through the scope of his blaster rifle. Without a word or even a gesture he set the rifle back down on the table and began cleaning it once more.

The rush of gratitude faded quickly, however, as Cirak turned his attention to the groaning man at his feet. Blood streaked down the thug’s nose and mouth as he looked up with hatred and fear in his eyes. “My men! You shot my men!”

“Career hazard. They should’ve known better.”

“You kriffing alien!”

“You really should know better than to insult a man who’s got a blaster aimed at your brain,” Cirak said. He pulled out his holopad and opened it to the Bounty Hunters’ Guild database. “What’s your name there handsome?”

“I ain’t telling you nothing.”

Cirak pushed his blaster to the man’s forehead. “I can just shoot you now if you’d prefer.”

The man was silent for a few moments longer. “Antelv. Antelv Langot.”

He entered the name into the database and scanned Antelv’s face. Several long seconds passed as it searched for anyone in the trillions of the galactic population who may have angered someone enough to place a bounty on their head, and which planets they were known for frequenting. 

No results.

“Well Antelv, seems no one has any strong preference for whether or not you live or die in this unforgiving existence, so I’m gonna let the lady decide.” Cirak looked over to the dancer. “What do you say,” he asked in Huttese, “Lives, or dies?”

“I’m sorry,” Antelv croaked, sending bloody spittle across the cantina floor. “I’m sorry!”

The dancer gave a cursory glance over the pathetic man bleeding in front of her, then nodded to Cirak. “Let him live with the humiliation you’ve shown him.”

Cirak shrugged. “Well, her decision’s final.” Just as a weary smile crept onto Antelv’s face, Cirak brought his blaster down once more on his skull, knocking him out cold. His unconscious form sprawled out onto the floor, and around them people began turning their heads away from the scene. Music took their focus once more, and life returned to the cantina. The bouncer approached, threw Antelv over his shoulder, and then vanished outside.

The dancer took a seat at the bar, draping one of her green lekku over her shoulder. “Thanks for the help,” she said, “Not often we see patrons here who are brave and handsome.”

“Not a problem.” Cirak twirled his blaster, holstering it. “Ordinarily I’d ask if I could take the seat next to you, but given the circumstances…” He glanced down to the bloody puddle by his feet.

“His problem was thinking that credits could control me,” she said, “I dance because it’s fun and I choose who I spend time with because I want to, not because I’m paid.” She rolled her eyes. “Besides he was quite rude, and you’re quite cute. So by all means, take a seat.”

Cirak smirked, taking the stool next to her while looking her over. “Seems he spilled your drink. How about I buy you a new one? The name’s Cirak, Cirak Kiht, and I’d love to get your name too.”

[thatgirlonstage]

@fluffyblue-multifandommess so I tried to save your ask in draft at one point while I was working on answering it (it uh.... got... long on me) and fortunately I didn’t actually lose it but it did fuck the formatting to hell and I couldn’t fix it, so I just copy-pasted into a new post entirely; sorry about that.

@fluffyblue-artnwriting asked: I'm thinking about possibilities for a wangxian Witcher!AU and I can't decide which one of them is the Witcher because on one hand WWX has a personality way closer to Jaskier but ALSO the whole Public View Of Witchers Is Shit thing parallels demonic cultivation nicely.... And THEN I thought, but what if LWJ is the witcher and WWX is... like Yennefer. Then who would take on the bard's role... IDK. Maybe NHS? I like the idea of LWJ&NHS friendship A Lot but their dynamic would be very different from Geralt and Jaskier’s obviously. However that all works out, one thing is obvious; A-Yuan is Ciri.

*rubs hands together* Okay hear me out: WWX as the Witcher and LWJ as the Bard, but paralleling a sort of Jaskier/Geralt roleswap AU. The one where Jaskier is a witcher and Geralt is a bard, albeit a much more subdued type of bard, the kind who sits in the corner of an inn and strums his songs and gains a reputation as this guy with a deep, husky (well, Geralt is husky, LWJ in this instance is more… warm and round) kind of voice who is maybe not the best for a jig but whenever he sings he has a way of just making everyone stop and listen. He tells stories with his songs, and he makes people want to hear them. And he doesn’t really like to stick around after he plays, he doesn’t want to be dragged into every piece of gossip and every scandal of every small town he visits, he prefers to meet people privately and gather his stories thoughtfully and carefully before he sets them to music. But one day after his set, just as he’s packing up, this has-no-fear witcher sprawls himself across the table nearest the bard and calls for a drink and a meal for the man who sings so beautifully, golden eyes glowing (like the sun, Lan Wangji thinks, like he wants to light the world around him, not hellfire and brimstone like he’s heard). So he takes the meal but turns down the drink and requests instead to follow him for a day and see if there’s a story waiting in the witcher’s company.

And there is, there’s dozens of stories, but more importantly there is Wei Ying with his golden eyes and bright smile and fierce whirling swords, and the way he laughs and waves it off when the innkeepers throw food in his face or people lie about what they agreed to pay him or even when he is literally stoned out of town. So Lan Wangji vows he will write songs about the witcher, about the children he saves and the long nights in the mud and the wilderness, about stitching his own wounds back together because not even a doctor will touch him. He will write songs so beautiful it will make grown men weep, he will write songs so popular that no one will be able to get them out of their heads, he will write songs for noble and common alike, he will make people stop looking at Wei Ying with fear and revulsion if he has to play until his fingers bleed.

(“Lan Zhan, why do you write so many songs about me?” Wei Ying laughs as he asks it, the question only half serious.

“I write songs that I want people to hear,” he answers, and Wei Ying’s mask slips slightly to the complicated face beneath the smile.)

(He writes one song that is not about him, but for him. One song that no one else will ever hear.)

(“Wangji, be careful with your songs,” his brother tells him, but it doesn’t stop him.)

(Oops it got long, more under the cut)

I am vaguely aware from fanfic that there was at some point, some kind of attack? On the witchers? A bunch of them were wiped out? This would be a lot easier if I knew more lore and history but I want to read the books now* so I’m not gonna spoil myself by looking at the wiki (I also imagine with the number of different canons that looking at the wiki is likely to confuse me more than anything). But anyway: the destruction of Lotus Pier.

Lan Wangji eventually meets Wei Ying’s family, Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli, two other witchers, three of very very few witchers left. Jiang Cheng fights monsters with a whip that crackles with purple lightning. Jiang Yanli uses potions that make her monstrously strong, and drips poison on her blade. Lan Wangji asks Wei Ying why his swords seem perfectly ordinary, if largely too heavy for the average man to swing about with ease, or why he doesn’t use the same potions and poisons Jiang Yanli does, the ones she warned Lan Wangji not to touch lest they burn his skin. He asks why the scars in his skin seem so much deeper, like they took far longer to heal. Wei Ying laughs it off and hastily changes the subject.

(Netflix told us fuck all about witcher lore so I am kinda flying by the seat of my pants here and also this is a more subtle version of losing his core. But the idea here is that WWX gave up some degree of witcher magic that would have allowed him to use magic weapons/the potions. He’s still unnaturally strong, he can see in the dark, he can smell out monsters, but he’s not quite what a full witcher should be.)

One time, when they meet in a roadside inn, Wei Ying seems fit to burst with excitement at seeing him. He pulls him up to his room before Lan Wangji can protest and takes a glossy black flute from his saddlebags. “Teach me to play it, Lan Zhan?” Golden eyes shine like the first glimmers of dawn. “I’ve always wanted to learn music but the witchers never allowed it, and now I’m never in one place long enough to learn.” He has a way of talking around things, Lan Wangji has learned, when it’s something that he fears will evoke pity. Lan Wangji knows that no community suffers a witcher to stay a day longer than necessary, and that even if he managed to earn his keep in a borderland city or somewhere like that, somewhere he could return every month or so, no one would take a witcher as a music student. “But we travel together all the time!” Wei Ying is saying. “So you can teach me!”

Lan Wangji takes the flute, examining it. “I do not play the flute,” he says. Wei Ying’s face falls.

“Oh,” he says. “Right. I thought about getting a guqin like yours, but it’s too bulky to carry with everything else, and I’d be too worried about breaking it when I get in fights…” He reaches for the flute, but Lan Wangji does not return it.

“My brother plays. I took some lessons with him when we were children. I remember the basics. I will teach you.” And Wei Ying lights up again, the sun coming out from behind a cloud.

He’s fumbling at first, his ear unused to the difference between flat and sharp, his fingers unaccustomed to the delicate pressure needed. But he’s a fast learner, and his hands have always been clever. Soon, the days that they travel, when they don’t end in monster hunts, they end in music, in quiet evenings around a campfire, improvised duets weaving through the smoke.

One time, when they meet out on the road, both chasing the same rumor of a cockatrice (well, Wei Ying chasing the rumor, Lan Wangji chasing Wei Ying), Lan Wangji takes out a newly purchased jian and says “Will you teach me?” He doesn’t expect the horror and sadness that spasms over Wei Ying’s face.

“Lan Zhan,” he says, more somber than Lan Wangji has ever seen him, “you don’t have to kill monsters to travel with me. You don’t have to kill anything.”

“Mn. I have no wish to kill. I only want to be able to defend myself, so that you do not have to risk yourself if I am in danger.” Wei Ying still looks hesitant, but he brightens considerably, and agrees to teach Lan Wangji the basics of swordplay. He is not starting from scratch — he learned a few things growing up the child of nobility — but it has been many years since he has been near anything more serious than a bar brawl or a mugging. He is also a fast learner, and so long as Wei Ying does not use his witcher strength, after enough practice Lan Wangji holds his own and even puts Wei Ying in the dirt from time to time.

As for Yen, I actually really like NHS as Yen? He grows up in a family where he was supposed to swing a sword he never wanted to pick up, and he hated it so much that one day he simply teleported away. By the time Nie Huaisang makes it back home, his brother has a plan. He has recently thrown out the Unclean Realm’s Brotherhood advisor, Meng Yao, for treason. If Nie Huaisang has the spark, then Nie Mingjue will send his defenseless little brother to become a powerful mage, and then he can be the Unclean Realm’s advisor. So much easier when things stay in the family. So Nie Mingjue writes to one of the rectors, Lan Qiren, and secures Nie Huaisang’s place in the school. Nie Huaisang goes, and he is a shuddering, tearful mess, and he seems to survive by the skin of his teeth, and not even his classmates notice how skillfully he learns to make the world dance with a crook of his finger.

Years later, Lan Wangji accidentally destroys an amphora containing a djinn. He, in a fit of anger, speaks carelessly for once in his life, at the worst possible moment he could have done so. He rides back into town as fast as Wei Ying’s horse can carry them. He hears of a mage who might be able to help. “No mages,” Wei Ying tries to say, but there’s barely enough air in his lungs to force it out as words. Lan Wangji drags him to the mage’s door and begs for help. Nie Huaisang does it out of curiosity more than anything. Never met a witcher who couldn’t guard their mind before. What happened to your magic?

Get out of my head, Wei Ying thinks, but he lets the mage heal him.

“Why no mages?” Lan Wangji finds the courage to ask, much later, months later, fingers trembling over his guqin with the paralyzing shame of his actions. Wei Ying looks away and tells him the story of two siblings — Wen Qing and Wen Ning — marked as cursed, tells him the head of the Brotherhood, Jin Guangshan, sent his nephew Jin Zixun to kill them for fear of what they could become. He walked into the middle of the conflict. Both Jin Zixun and the siblings asked him for his help. Wei Ying chose the Wens. He killed Jin Zixun. The mages declared him an enemy. When Jiang Cheng tried to protect him, they nearly killed him. To repay Wei Ying, Wen Qing saved Jiang Cheng’s life. But no magic comes without a price, and the price for this was Wei Ying’s witcher magic. Afterward, Wei Ying demanded the Jiang school of witchers disown him, and make peace with the Brotherhood, for everyone’s sake. To cement the peace, Jiang Yanli married a mage and Jin Zixun’s cousin, Jin Zixuan.

(Lan Wangji understands, now, why he’s only every met Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli in the wilderness, and then only rarely, why Wei Ying has pleaded with him not to write songs about them, why his brother tried to caution him away, why his uncle seems so exceptionally chilly on the rare occasions they see each other.)

(Nie Huaisang learned Wei Ying’s history while he was poking through his mind. He laughed when Wei Ying asked if he was going to kill him. “Your friend promised me gold and music if you live,” he said. “I would far rather have that than the dubious honor of giving your head to Jin Guangshan on a platter.”)

(It was Jin Guangshan, after all, who — with someone whispering in his ear, Nie Huaisang is certain — noticed how dangerous letting him go home to his brother would make the Unclean Realm, and instead contrived to send him to the ends of the earth, where Nie Huaisang elected to abandon his duties and the Brotherhood.)

Wen Ruohan rules Qishan with the defected Brotherhood mage Meng Yao by his side. He has found and welcomed back his distant relatives Wen Qing and Wen Ning, in the years since they met Wei Wuxian. Hearing their stories, he sends an invitation to the Black Wolf Witcher, to come visit his kingdom. Wei Wuxian pleads and cajoles Lan Wangji into going with him because really Lan Zhan, do I seem like I belong in rich halls among the nobility? I don’t even know what shirt to buy.

(Okay I am about to careen wildly into Simply Making Shit Up that only has a passing resemblance to either canon, bear with me.)

Wen Ruohan, in the midst of his entire court, demands Wei Wuxian choose a reward for saving Wen Qing and Wen Ning’s lives (Wen Qing saving Jiang Cheng’s life is not, cannot be public knowledge). Wei Wuxian tries to demur, but Wen Ruohan refuses to exist in anyone’s debt, let alone an outcast witcher’s. Somewhat desperate and on the spot, Wei Wuxian invokes the Law of Surprise. It can’t be seen as insultingly low or high in value, and he figures at most he’ll get a puppy from the next litter of Wen Ruohan’s hunting dogs, or something equally inane, and they can all call it even. Unfortunately for everyone, Wen Xu’s wife chooses this exact moment to become spectacularly ill, the first sign other than a late period that she is pregnant with Wen Ruohan’s first grandchild. Wei Wuxian flees. He spends a lot of the next few years fleeing.

(“Come to Gusu with me,” Lan Wangji pleads, some time later, on top of a mountain.

“No,” Wei Ying tells him, not because he doesn’t want to, not because he wouldn’t leave the path if he could, but because he can’t stop running, because there are too many maligned creatures who don’t deserve death and too many monsters preying on innocent people that do, because if he doesn’t help them who will, because how can he stop, because he’s terrified of stopping.

“I cannot watch you destroy yourself, Wei Wuxian.”

“Then leave, Lan Wangji.”)

It ends in fire, when Wen Ruohan grows too power hungry, and the Brotherhood turns on him with the Unclean Realm and Lan Wangji’s family on their side, and it turns out that Meng Yao’s defection from the Brotherhood was an act (some of the time? all of time?) and he’s been spying (for years? for months?). Nie Mingjue manages to pull his brother out of exile in return for his help against the Wens, although Nie Huaisang is doubtful about the merits of this.

Wei Wuxian is there when it happens, having been dragged reluctantly back by the strings of fate and the nebulous tie to a child he has never met but who is still a child and doesn’t deserve to die in the coming carnage. Wen Ruohan locks him away for trying to take his grandchild — and heir, after both Wen Xu and Wen Chao perish on the battlefield. He escapes while the city is sacked, but doesn’t manage to find Wen Yuan before he’s fled the city. Instead he finds Wen Qing and Wen Ning, and defends them from the mages when they come into the city. It would’ve been a futile effort, if not for Nie Huaisang and — surprisingly — Meng Yao, who had been at court with them for years at that point, and — even more surprisingly — Jin Zixuan, who has had years of cajoling from Jiang Yanli at this point, stepping to his side. It’s enough that they’re allowed to leave unscathed.

Wen Yuan, meanwhile, meets an elf boy called Jingyi, flees through the fields of refugees, and learns that he has the same kind of magic or curse he heard people whispering about his relatives Wen Qing and Wen Ning having.

Wei Wuxian, Wen Qing, and Wen Ning find A-Yuan in a destroyed field, lost but alone no more, and he runs into their arms.

Aaaaaaaaaand I have run out of Witcher canon, and this is also OBNOXIOUSLY long by now, so uh, pending part two, maybe, when s2 happens/when I read the books, whichever comes first

[5-falsehoods-phonated]

Mindful Confrontation

Written as a request from @heavy-metal-papillon who not only supplied the requested plot but creatively reconstructed the song Confrontation from Jeckyll and Hyde to fit the context of the story. This was a lot of fun to write, thank you for requesting it! I hope it fits what you had in mind.

Summary: Thomas' friends convince him to check out a new karaoke bar and encourage him to perform. Technical difficulties make improv imperative for the show to go on but can singing really settle the warring landscape?

Warnings: anxiety induced spiraling thoughts, if there are more please let me know

Ships: none

WC: 2, 389

The bar is loud as Thomas makes his way to an empty booth lead expertly by Joan and Talyn. Nerves twisted in his gut as he took in how large it actually was on the inside, the stage set up for karaoke sitting front and center with the tables placed strategically so no ones view would be blocked. He took a deep breath as he settled himself on the cushioned bench, reminding himself that he needed this.

It had been Joan's idea initially, taking him to a karaoke bar to loosen up after the stress they'd both been under lately. Supposedly they served good food and the regular performers were worth the watch.

"Sing if you want." Joan had said. "Everyones really nice and would love to hear someone new onstage."

Thomas glanced at them now, happily skimming through the menu and pointing things out to Talyn who nodded along as best they could over the noise. It seemed like the performing wouldnt be starting for a while yet...which reminded him...

"I'm gonna go sign up, be back in a minute." Joan looked up and smiled, they and their date mate giving enthusiastic thumbs up. Turning with a grin, Thomas straightened his shirt and made his way over to the side stage where a small line had already started forming.

-------

In the mindscape, Janus sat on the couch a little ways away from a pouting Roman, watching Virgil fidget endlessly with the sleeves of his hoodie and wear a literal hole in the floor with his pacing. Being in someone's head was an odd thing at times.

"You can't possibly expect us to do this! Theres so many people we dont know hear!"

"Wouldn't that be beneficial to us? There's a good chance this is the first and last time wed see any of them." Janus replied smoothly.

Ignoring him, Virgil continued on. "What if Thomas's voice cracks? What if the song glitches and he's left singing with no music and then it picks up and it'll be out of sync and he freezes because it's confusing and everyone laughs? What if we don't know the lyrics as well as we thought we did and the screen cuts out and we forget the song and everyone laughs? What if we try to move around and trip because the stage is unfamiliar and we fall off and break our neck and the last thing we ever did was sing a shitty song at a shitty bar and-"

"Everyone laughs?" Janus finished dryly.

"Why would someone laugh at our death? What are you trying to say you vile vindictive villain?!" Roman leapt from the couch making Virgil flinch as a samurai sword appeared in his hand to point at the deceitful side.

"Vindictive? The only revenge I'm seeking today is on whoever decided the shirt Thomas is wearing should be seen in public after having worn it two days in a row already."

"We were in a hurry and he barely wore it in those two days since he spent most of them sleeping! It's fine!"

"We already wore the shirt?! What if people can tell it hasn't been washed? What if someone sees the wrinkles and decides we're an unclean slob? What if-"

"Virgil! Breathe please." At the reminder Virgil began his standard breathing exercise as Janus poked the tip of the sword still pointing at his face and lowered it to a non threatening level. "And Roman, do keep waving around a dangerous weapon it totally isn't making Virgil's anxiety worse."

Grumbling Roman snapped the sword back out of existence and plopped back down on the couch. Sighing Janus tuned back into what Thomas was doing just as he was looking through the song list. A song leapt out at him almost immediately, making Janus send the suggestion quietly to their manifestor for consideration, smiling as it was chosen and they began walking back towards the booth.

"I believe you'll like the choice in song Roman. Perhaps you can vent a bit."

Raising an eyebrow Roman quickly concentrated to bring himself up to speed on what had transpired while he was sulking.

"A little on the nose isn't it?" Virgil paused his pacing at Roman's snide remark, tilting his head in question.

"Jeckyll and Hyde's Confrontation?" That's technically a duet right? How the hell is that going to work?"

"I'm sure Roman can manage. Unless he wants one of us to help?" Janus peered out from under the rim of his hat at the side on question who was currently scowling over at him.

"Why don't you both help sing it? That way you can both work out whatever it is you need to. Roman's good on stage and Janus...you know the musical right? Oh God you do know it right because if you just picked it at random-"

"Relax Fidget and Hide it'll be fine." Roman scowl turned smug at the word play that Virgil didn't bother responding to, instead shooting Janus a final panicked glanced before going back to...well...fidgeting.

------

Thomas fidgeted in the booth nervously, making Talyn glance over in worry.

"You okay? It's a pretty big crowd, you can still back out if it makes you nervous."

Thomas felt a sliver of false reassurance curl around his tongue, opening his mouth almost against his will as he smiled convincingly.

"I'm fine really. It is a big crowd, but I feel like this will be good for me you know?"

"Yeah man, you really need to get out more." Joan flashed him a smile that let Thomas know he was mostly kidding, which he appreciated. Breathing deep he reminded himself to thank Janus later. A fleeting feeling of gratitude that wasn't his own welled in his chest and he smiled to himself. Message recieved apparently.

The performers were great, some obvious regulars and some anxious newbies but the mix didn't dampen his enjoyment in the slightest. As the music swelled around him he felt himself relaxing, grinning as someone started in on an Evenescence song that he knew would appeal to his youngest side. He could imagine the emo sitting in all his glory wherever they went when not manifested in front of him. As they got further down the list however his nerves began to fray. Any moment now his name would be called and he'd have to go onstage in front of so many new faces and he'd done it before but that had been performances and this was a bar and-

"Thomas." He whipped his head around to see Joan pointing at the stage. "They called your name! Break a leg!"

Smiling nervously, he stood and quickly made his way to the stage, wiping sweaty palms on his already sweaty jeans to a smattering of applause as the audience realized the person who was called was about to go on.

Just imagine them naked. Impatiently he shook the Intrusive thought away and zeroed in on the blank screen. A tech worker jogged up to him and his heart dropped. Surely not-

"I apologize but we've been having problems with the screen lately and it stopped working for the night. You're welcome to use your phone or forfeit if you'd be uncomfortable."

A sudden surge of confidence had words spilling of their own accord, barely there panic twisting his stomach. "It's okay. I can handle it."

The music began low and he drew in a steadying breath, opening his mouth where he knew the lyrics started.

------

"The screen died? What kind of hellscape is this?! I told you, I said what if the screen dies though I guess it didnt happen while we were singing but still! Do you even know the lyrics?" Roman shrugged where he stood in front of the couch, unfazed by circumstance.

"We'll figure it out Nightmare on Emo Street, calm down."

"Figure it-what do you mean you'll figure it out?"

The music started and Roman simply took a stance and began to sing, the sorrowful tone matched by his deep base vibrating the mind scape pleasantly.

"It’s over now, from what I know.

This world’s not what it seems.

It hurts that he would stoop so low.

A fatal blow for one poor dashing Prince."

Janus raised an eyebrow as he sat up straighter. Improv. Impressive. Beside him, Virgil groaned and hid his face, seemingly content to wait out whatever horror he percieved this to be.

"They do not see my tragedy,

Do not see my intent.

The stain of this snake’s evil

Would forever kill the good we all had meant."

Janus narrowed his eyes as Roman turned to him fully, the intent and purpose of the lyrics clear to him now as the Prince lamented on.

"Am I a good man?

Am I a bad man?

Eternal question. But will the answer ever…?"

The last note lingered as Janus stood. Fine, he thought. If this is how he wants to play it, I'll give him something to kick at.

"Do you really think

That I would ever let this go?

Do you think without me he’ll be free?"

He smirked knowingly as Roman stepped back, twisting Hyde's words into something closer to himself to throw back.

"If you do, I’m sad to say

It simply isn’t so.

You will never block his life from me!"

Roman glared and stood straighter, sweeping his arm as if to banish the other from his sight.

"All that he needs is to look in a mirror.

Good, honest life – and you’ll disappear!"

"I was the one who did give him that mirror,

So, I’m afraid, I will still be here."

"All that you’ll do is make our life a nightmare,

All you’ll achieve is high self-esteem!

All that I wanted for him – to chase his dream!"

Janus grimaced as he caught sight of angry tears gathering in Roman's eyes. Hardening his resolve, he clenched his fists to glare right back, refusing to back down from what this simple karaoke had become.

"Will you ever catch it, friend?

This chase will never end!

His procrastination still goes on!

So, I want to stay,

No matter how you may object!

I can give him power to move on."

His tone begged to be listened to, pleading eyes catching the royals in an effort to make him understand. He took a step back as a sword was once again pressed alarmingly close to his face.

"Soon you’ll slip up and deceive us all over!

We can’t allow you to have control!"

"Roman, hold on, move your train of thought slower,

For all I know, we’re all parts of his soul."

"He doesn’t need you to live, like he needs me,

He can be whole with no selfish snake!

Getting rid of you will be a piece of cake!"

His staff materialized in his hand as he brought it sweeping down to catch the blade safely in its crook, slamming the tip down into the floor as he delivered the next verse.

"I’ll stay among you forever!"

"No!" Roman desperately tugged at his weapon, gritting his teeth as it refused to budge.

With a sweep of his arm the sword was free from the floor, twisting in the air before crashing beside the couch, staff now jabbed painfully close to Roman's face. "Keep in mind that I earned my seat."

"No!" Roman lunged, but Janus hooked his arm and dragged him to the side with minimal effort.

"And I’ll make it my new endeavor

To guide him and prove to you all that

I’m more than Deceit!" Stalking forward, the staff's crook was jammed under Roman's chin as he stared down at him backed into a wall, eyes wide but devoid of fear as he seemed to consider the words before shaking them off.

"Will you stop? It’s

Over now! It’s time to go!"

Roman grabbed the staff and yanked it sideways, making Janus lose his grip and stumble to come face to face with his adversary.

Smirking he bowed low. "Oh no, no, after you!"

"If I go you'll go too!"

"I’ll just shapeshift and I’ll be you."

"No! Deciet, leave him be!"

"Can’t you see? He needs me!"

"No! Stop this fight!"

"I'm his side! I won't hide!"

"No never!"

"Yes forever!"

"Give up, you snake! Crawl back to whatever hole you came from!" Roman shoved forward and practically snarled out his last line, towering over a fallen Janus.

"You’ll get there too, Roman." Hat swept somewhere unknown he simply stared at the other, chests heaving in sync as the anger finally eased, if only by a fraction.

A chuckle bubbled up in his chest, starting Roman who took a second to consider him before a grin split his face as well. The tension snapped as laughter filled the space between them, Roman doubling over as tears dripped down his face.

"What the hell did we just do?"

Janus cackled and shook his head. "Created a masterpiece that's going to raise questions I'm sure."

"Hey you morons, you do realize you had Thomas sing that right? You're weird venty improv was just projected to an entire bar!" They both looked up at Virgils outburst to see the side in question shaking on the couch, beside him a grinning Remus shoveling (popcorn?) into his mouth. Patton stood beside them starry eyed and smiling while Logan remained at the table with a questioning look that seemed to suggest he had missed most of the context for the scene in front of him. Janus and Roman spared eachother another look before bursting into another fit of laughter.

------

"Sooo....didn't know the song huh?" Joan asked curiously as Thomas sat down. At his head shake, they simply grinned. "The improv was seriously impressive though. Janus and Roman? Genius!"

Thomas grinned sheepishly as his nerves finally settled, his smile wavering as another set of emotions came forth he didn't recognize.

"Hey, you okay?"

A feeling of peace settled over him like a blanket of fresh snow, crisp and clean as his mind cleared for what felt like the first time in weeks. A genuine smile stretched across his face as he answered.

"Yeah. Yeah, you know what? I'm great actually." He sat back and relaxed, looking at Talyn and Joan in turn.

"I feel better."

This work along with other one shots is available on AO3!

[ayeateez]

The Hunger Games AU - Part 2 - Park Seonghwa

Pairing: Seonghwa x fem!reader

Warnings: Mentions of murder, blood, death

Genre: Fluff, angst

Word Count: 4.9k

Part 1 - Choi San

I held my head in my hands, tears running down my cheeks as my body burned from crying. I lost both San and Jongho. I don’t remember exactly what happened after San died, but they told me I wouldn’t let go of his body, how I was screaming at them to bring him back, how I said I’d kill myself right then and there... they said I was cuffed so I couldn’t do any harm to myself.

The sudden knock on my door shook my out of my thoughts.

“Y/n... we’re back at 12” she said before closing the door. There was no doubt my team felt bad for me, losing both my childhood best friend and my.. I don’t even know what to call him. Was he considered my boyfriend? We’ll call it that for now, but I loved them both... what is life going to be like without Jongho? Climbing onto rooftops and star gazing, wrestling with each other, seeing how far we can throw rocks into the forest...

I wiped my tears, standing up and grabbing my very little things, and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked terrible, my eyes bloodshot red, dark purple bags under my eyes from not sleeping, tear stains running down my face.

I made my way off of the train as people watched, the stared and observed my state, a few cheering, trying to get the mood up. I spare a few quick glances at the crowd, before covering my face and moving forwards, towards the new house I had earned due to winning.

Walking in, I looked around. The door shut behind me and I was all alone. I walked around, my mind blanking as I ran my fingers over the smooth mahogany. The crystal table decoration was perfectly angled to have the sun shine in my eyes, I moved on to other rooms.

I leaned on the balcony in the room I had claimed to be mine, as it looked out on the forest and sky. Jongho would’ve loved this. The sun was setting, the sky was a calming orange-pink, moon slowly starting to show.

A rustle from the trees caught my eye as I saw a young man, who couldn’t have been more than 18, sneaking out of the woods and back through our fence. It was supposedly electric, but they never turned on the power. We made eye contact and he froze. His eyes were begging me not to tell anyone, and I just nodded as he ran off, holding a few dead animals.

•

“I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” The young man asked after bumping into me, helping me up. I looked at his face, he was the guy from a week ago. I could tell he recognized me too. I slowly nodded. He was handsome, but not like San... what would San want? Would he be okay with me trying to move on? Of course he would, right? He couldn’t possibly expect for me to stay like this forever... he’s dead.

“Yeah... I’m fine. Are you okay?” I spoke for the first time since my victor tour. His eyes looked me up and down as he nodded.

“Damn you’re beautiful... I mean- ah shit I didn’t mean to say that out loud I’m sorry...” he said awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. I laughed

“It’s okay... you’re handsome too” I complimented him back and a blush slowly crept onto his cheeks. He looked away, not knowing what to say.

“I should probably leave you to what you were doing... it must be important” he laughed.

“Only if you call walking around important, then yes” I said, making us both chuckle.

“Then do you maybe... wanna hang out or something?” He asked. I shrugged.

“Sure, why not?” I agreed and he smiled at me. The field wasn’t too far away, and the sun was just setting. It hadn’t rained in awhile, therefore the grass should be dry. We talked the short way there, getting settled on a small patch of grass. Was this a date? Could it be considered a date?

“I’m Seonghwa, by the way. You’re Y/n, the 72nd victor, yeah?” He introduces himself, and me, which was a little weird but everybody knows me... especially now cause I had some sort of relationship with San. I stumbled over my words at District 1.

“Y-Yeah... 72nd victor” I laughed awkwardly.

“I know you might get this a lot and I hope you don’t mind me asking, but what’s it like in the games?” He asked out of pure curiosity, brow furrowing as he tilted his head slightly, leaning back on his hands. I thought for a bit.

“Terrifying. Anything and everything can mean the difference between life and death. Air you breathe? Could be poisoned. Water you drink? Could be infected and unclean, and the thing is, you never get away from it, even if you win. I still have to mentor future tributes. You’re always going to be associated with the games” I explained, and his eyes widened.

“Next year is going to be my last reaping... I hope I don’t get picked” he sighed.

“Me neither. I want them to stop the games... I wish we could overthrow the capital...” I laughed slightly.

“Don’t say that here... someone could be watching or listening” he said panicked, and I laughed.

“Why would the capital be spying on us?” I asked.

“Well,,, you’re a victor, you lost your boyfriend in the games, and you’re on a date-“

“Date?” I asked.

“I-I mean um not date... it can be if you’re okay with it but um-“

“God, you’re panicked. Calm down” I smiled at him, patting his shoulder. He let out a breath as he relaxed his body.

“Do you get nightmares?” He asked. I froze and thought about it for a moment.

“Yeah... yeah I do. Most tributes/victors do. I mean, you have to kill people that are mostly innocent, you’re fighting to the death, of course it’s going to scar you” I said with a small laugh at the end. He’s probably confused as to why I keep laughing.

We went on for hours, talking to each other about the most random things you could ever possibly think of. He was kinda like Jongho, he could be my new best friend if I wanted him to be, but he was also kinda like San, too. He constantly asked about the games, like if he ever got chosen how should he prepare himself, it was kinda like I was his mentor, except he probably won’t get picked, hopefully anyways. I thought I wasn’t going to get picked, but what happened?

•

“Seonghwa, get away from there!!” I laughed at him as he stuck his face near the oven.

“Why?” He asked, a playfully smile growing on his face.

“You’re gonna burn yourself, especially your face. Then you won’t be handsome anymore!!” I joked and he stepped back.

“Not handsome? You can’t call me not handsome, I’m basically your boyfriend~” He giggled, hugging me, however, it was just a trap to tickle me, oh boy.

“Seonghwa stop!!” I giggled out, and he only shouted a “no!” before tickling my neck. I let out shrieks and screams as it got harder to breathe with the way I was laughing. He finally stopped, though.

“Boyfriend?’ I asked and regretted asking that because he only started to tickle me again.

“This is torture!!!” I yelled. He only laughed in response, that evil bitch.

As we got settled down, I leaned my head on his shoulder.

“Hwa, what did you mean by you’re basically my boyfriend now?” I asked.

“Well, we act no different then a normal couple… I like you, I think you like me… the only thing that’s missing is titles, but we don’t need them” He sighed, putting his arm around me.

“You think I like you?” I giggled. His face flushed a bright red.

“I- well… uh… yeah…” He looked away from me. He only became even redder and shocked as I pulled him in for a kiss. He let out a surprised gasp before kissing back instantly.

“You shouldn’t get too attached to me though...” he said, slightly out of breath from our kiss.

“Why?” I asked.

“When is the next reaping?” He asked. I sat back from him a little.

“Few months, why?” I asked suspiciously. He shrugged.

“What if I get picked-“

“Seonghwa, no. Don’t say that, I can’t imagine losing you..” I sighed, bringing him closer to rest my forehead on his, my heart breaking at the thought of losing Seonghwa. He pulled me onto his lap, kissing me once more.

“So, am I your boyfriend now?” He asked all giggly.

“Hm, let me thing about it...” I joked and he pouted.

“Yes” I said and he smiled brightly at me. Not the “I’m in pain” smile but his real, beautiful smile. I curled up on his lap, and he hugged me tightly.

“As much as I’d like to stay here, I have to go now. I’ll be back later tonight if I can sneak out, though” He sighed and I pouted.

“Do you really have to?” I asked. He nodded.

“I mean, unless you want me to get my ass whoops” He shrugged. I sighed before letting him go.

“But I’ll see you later” He pecked my lips once more before leaving.

•

With reaping day a week away and Seonghwa’s questions about the games coming back makes me nervous and suspicious. What was he planning on doing? Maybe he’s just trying to be prepared if he gets picked. I really hope he doesn’t get picked, I can’t lose another one. Especially cause I’ve known him longer than San.

“Baby, you’ll still be with me, even if I get picked, right?” He asked.

“Stop asking these questions, Seonghwa! You’re making me think about losing you, about you dying! Just stop!” I yelled, a single tear running down my face.

“Baby...” Seonghwa said softly, placed his palm on my cheek to wipe away the tear. He pulled me into his chest and hugged me tightly, rocking us slowly while apologizing.

He didn’t speak of the games anymore after that, he stopped asking questions, but he disappeared into the woods more. He told me he was good at archery, maybe District 12 should be known for archery.

But I woke up this morning, heart already racing. It was Seonghwa’s last year, if he could just survive this reaping. Maybe I could live a happy enough life, here out in 12 with Seonghwa. I’ll never have kids, though. Not if the games are still going on.

I took my spot on the stage as a victor, watching everybody pile in. My eyes landed on Seonghwa and he waved at me, and I waved back.

“You’ve found someone new, haven’t you?” Katniss whispers into my ear. I nodded.

“This is his last year... if he can survive this year I might actually live a happy life” I chuckled, before all the talking died down and it started. I zoned out a bit until they did the actually picking of the names. They chose a small girl, who’s name I can’t remember. She looked around 17, if only she survived 2 more years.

My heart picked up the speed as the boys were picked. My eyes shut as I focused on the voice.

“Park Seonghwa”

My eyes shot open, watching Seonghwa make his way onto the stage, avoiding eye contact. Tears rolled down my blank face, trying to realize what was happening.

Seonghwa was going into the games.

•

“Y/n...” Seonghwa sighed as we all made our way onto the train.

“Y/n... please talk to me” he said, voice breaking. I looked up at him, both our eyes glossy with tears.

“What do you want me to say?” I snapped. Why on Earth was I mad at him? He had done nothing wrong, really. I just hugged him tightly before any other words were spoken.

“I guess all those times I spent answering your questions weren’t for nothing, huh?” I mumbled into his shoulder, sniffling.

“Yeah” he nodded.

“Whoa, what do we have here? A tribute and a victor? D-“

“Shut up!” I yelled, and whoever was talking instantly disappeared.

•

I watched with a small smile on my face as Seonghwa’s stylist added the final touches.

“How do I look?” Seonghwa asked, turning to you.

“Handsome” I smiled, leaning up to kiss his nose, making him blush a little.

“Uh, sorry to break the moment but he needs to be with the rest of the tributes” A stage director interrupted.

“Go steal the crowds heart” I cheered him on and he smiled at me once more before leaving.

~

“Say, Seonghwa. You’re quite handsome, is there any special girl back home at 12?” Caesar asked.

��Well uh, yeah but also no” Seonghwa laughed awkwardly.

“Oh, please elaborate” Caesar leaned forwards a bit.

“Yeah, um, I do have a girlfriend, but she’s um, here in the capital with me, and I know she’ll be cheering me on from the moment I step into the arena until the moment I win for her” Seonghwa smiled, making the crowd erupt into cheers of adoration.

“Wait wait wait, so does this mean you’re dating a victor?”

“Yeah, yeah I am” Seonghwa nodded, making the crowd, who was once going crazy over his sweet words, now whispering and wondering who. 12 only has 2 female victors, one of which is publicly taken, therefore I’m the only option left.

I hugged Seonghwa tightly, telling him how good he did once he came back from the stage.

“Are you hungry? You need to eat well, tomorrow you’re presenting to the game makers. Whatever you do, just make sure they’re watching you. Then the next day... you’ll be going into the games” I got quieter at the last part. It still hasn’t fazed me that there’s a chance I might now ever see Seonghwa again after he steps into the arena. Alive, at least. I don’t know where they keep the bodies, or whether they keep them or not, but I know I couldn’t handle seeing Seonghwa’s lifeless body.

~

“You’ll do great in there, just hit the target, get a good score and you’ll earn sponsors” I cupped his face and he nodded before heading into the waiting room. I’ve never personally see his archery skills, but he just has to be good with all the meat he brings back.

~

“Hwa, you need to eat” I sighed, trying to feed him but he shook his head.

“Look, I know you’re nervous, but you need to eat. Once you go into the games, you won’t get to eat very much. You need as much food as you can eat until the games, okay?” I gave him a small lecture, and he finally listened to me. I smiled a bit as I fed him, and he let me. It’s like we’ve switched rolls for once.

“Thank you...” he sighed after finishing his food.

“Look, try not to think too much of it, don’t overthink it. Try to make some allies, please. They really do help” I rested my palm on his cheek, making him look at me.

“We’ll get your score tonight and see from there, okay?” I asked, trying to sooth him a bit.

“Okay...” he mumbled.

It was pretty quiet between us for the rest of the day. They stopped having tributes get to know each other, probably cause of what happened between San and I, complete devastation and me refusing to go on my victory tour, people cheering for me because I murdered near innocent people.

We all huddle around the hologram, the fake tv as we waited for Seonghwa’s score to appear.

“Now moving onto District 12, Park Seonghwa with a score of... 10” Everybody’s eyes widened in shock as I hugged Seonghwa tightly, and he did the same.

“You’re gonna get sponsors, don’t worry, you’re gonna be just fine out there” I whispered and he nodded.

It was possibly our last night ever to sleep together, holding each other, his arms around me, so we held on tight.

“Shh, Hwa. Go to sleep” I shushed him.

“I just want you to know that... what ever happens in the games, I love you and I will never stop loving you” he sighed, running his fingers through my hair.

“I love you too, Hwa stop saying things like this, you’re gonna survive. You’re gonna win and we’re going to live happily...” I shut my eyes, wishing for what I just said to be true.

No more words were spoken, just pure silence but our breathing, savoring these moments together that might be our last. I’ll miss Seonghwa’s arms around me, his warm body encasing mine.

The next morning was silence. Very few words were exchanged from everybody, and the others could feel the tension in the room. Breakfast was quiet, uncomfortable.

The time I dreaded came quicker than it should’ve. I wished it was last night, or maybe months ago, where he wasn’t going into the games. I wished somebody had volunteered.

“Hwa, you’re going to do just fine” I tried to comfort him as he was shaking.

“W-What if I die-“

“Look, Hwa. You need to run from the cornucopia, or at least grab something near the edge. Dodge all knifes, arrows, swords, etc. Mingi and Hongjoong from districts 1 and 2 are beyond vicious. So is Yunho from 7. Stay away from them, or become allies. Odds are, you’re at the top of their kill list-“

“That doesn’t make me feel better, y/n!”

“Just run! Find water, find food, and stay warm. Whatever you do, DO NOT start a fire. Unless you want to get killed. And if you really have to... try to earn sponsors by faking a relationship” I sighed at the last part.

“But everybody knows about us-“

“Say we broke up. This is the last resort for survival, though. And preferably use the girl tribute from 12” I sighed again.

“Just... please stay alive. Please... you know how to kill, I’ll be waiting here for you, okay? I’ll be right here when you win” I pulled him close, resting my forehead against his before placing a soft kiss to his lips. The doors to the tube and his stylist opened.

“Goodbye, Seonghwa. Please come back to me...” I whispered.

“I will... I promise” he mumbled back, pressing one more kiss to my lips before walking into the room, then we were shut off. The games were supposed to start in 3 minutes.

Walking back to the room I was staying in, I turned on the channel where the games will be showing 24/7 until somebody wins. Of course there were different channels for each tribute, so of course I’ll be watching Seonghwa’s. Maybe switching to another every now and then, but I’m not sleeping until I know Seonghwa is safe and out of the games.

The countdown started, as all the tributes rose up from their tubes. The camera shower Seonghwa for a few seconds, making me miss him already.

“5...”

“4...”

“3...”

“2...”

“1...”

The horn blew as Seonghwa went right for the closest backpack, grabbing it and sprinting off into the woods. I watched as he tripped over himself, falling and rolling, but at least he was alive. He ran and ran until he collapsed, panting hard. Sitting against the tree, he checked his surroundings before looking what he got.

Rope, a knife, matches, and a water bottle. Empty, must I clarify. I hope he was thinking what I was thinking, water. He needed to find a water source ASAP. I watched Seonghwa used the dirt trick I taught him as he made his way closer to a water source, finally finding a small pond.

He sighed in relief as he filled up the bottle, drinking tons before topping it off and capping it. He explored part of the arena, his head snapping around at even the wind, just like I taught him to. I knew he was getting hungry and that he needed to find food, and he needed to find it quickly. He gets hungry easily, and will probably pass out if you don’t feed him.

Because throwing knives isn’t his thing, (I should know, he almost hit me instead of the target and I was standing right next to him) he was probably going to have to chase and strangle an animal or fish, possibly stab it. Then the cannons went off.

I counted a total of 14, which is a lot for the first minutes of the game. It’s usually only 11 or 12. This now means Seonghwa has a higher chance of winning. I spotted in the corner of the screen a squirrel scurrying down a tree.

I watched as he head snapped towards it’s direction and took off, chasing after it. The scene was a bit gory, but he strangled it. It was disgusting, but I can’t blame him. He’s just trying to survive. He stopped in his tracks and I could tell he was thinking for a bit. He can’t just make a fire. I mean he could, but the careers would find him in an instant and kill him.

But he did it anyways, looking out for any signs of another tribute. He cooked it until it was cooked just enough to eat before stomping out the fire and taking off, letting the wind cool the hot meat as he ran.

He climbed before settling in a tree, sighing as he hugged it for dear life, something he used to do with me. I flopped on my bed as it only showed him eating the cooked squirrel.

The sudden movement on the screen caught my attention as now he was in a life or death situation. He raced down the tree, now chasing someone with a knife. He’s close enough where if he threw it, there’s a low low chance he’d miss.

It seems like we’re sharing the same brain today, because he threw the knife and didn’t miss. He stabbed them again for... god knows what before making his way back to camp, smiling to himself as the cannon behind him went off. I couldn’t blame him for smiling, he just survived. He killed another tribute. A step closer to winning. A step closer to a happy life.

•

2 days went passed, and Seonghwa hasn’t done anything interesting. It just him, the careers, and like 3 other tributes. Nobody has died, besides the boy and girl from 10, the girl from 9 and the boy from 4. Who dies from falling out of a tree? They must’ve gotten stung by a tracker jacker and I just didn’t see.

He jumped on camera and looked around for a few seconds after a cannon went off. It was late at night, so he almost fell off the tree as the slide to honor the fallen appeared in the sky. The girl from 1. She must’ve not been a career, or she got herself killed somehow. Sometimes I wish it had shown how that tribute died, but I don’t want graphic details of the boy from 6 getting slit in the throat. It doesn’t matter, 1 less career to face, 1 less tribute to kill, 1 step closer to winning and 1 step closer to a happy life.

The next day is was the boy from 3. S there must be some type of poison of venom they don’t know of. The girl from 12 still hasn’t died yet, and I don’t like wishing for people to die, but if she gets herself killed, it’s just one more step closer to being with Seonghwa again.

The careers slowly died off 1 by 1 until it was just the boy from 2, Hongjoong, I think his name was. Short, leader of the pack, absolutely vicious. Terrifying. Could probably look in your direction and kill you like that. Terrifying. Did I mention the girl from 12 drank unsanitary water? Got herself an infection and died. Stupid, huh? You never know what’s in the water you’re drinking, and you just gotta hope.

At this point, half of the arena has burnt down, and it’s just Seonghwa and Hongjoong. Seonghwa is so close to winning, he can do it, I know he can. He found an abandoned bow with a quiver full of arrows yesterday, it honestly could’ve been a trap but his dumbass took it anyways. I’ll make sure to scold him for that after he wins. I need to stop being so confident, I might jinx it.

He ran away from the fire, sweat dripping off his face. He was already tired, had almost no food, barely slept and has had to sprint daily for a good period of time, if only I could take care of him.

My heart only dropped as he crashed into something. Someone. Hongjoong.

The evil smirk that grew on Hongjoong’s face and the look of terror made me jump onto my feet as I got closer to the screen, watching closely and carefully. Seonghwa tried to back up, but the fire blocked him. He was trapped in I’d say a 10x10 foot area surround by fire, now fighting to the death.

As Seonghwa regained he thoughts, he quickly loaded up an arrow, only for Hongjoong to knock the bow out of his hands, sending it into the fire.

“Come on Seonghwa... you can do it... you’re strong enough...” I mumbled, tears already threatening to fall at the though of losing him. Hongjoong threw Seonghwa’s arrows as well as his own weapons into the fire as well. How could Seonghwa let Hongjoong treat him like this? How come he wasn’t fighting back?

“Fight me like a real man” Hongjoong hissed. Seonghwa set his foot back, slowly walking backward as Hongjoong only approached him. He swung at Seonghwa, which was easily dodged. They were fighting. Fist fighting, how stupid. Seonghwa advanced, only for Hongjoong to step back and avoid Seonghwa’s fist. A move that Seonghwa wasn’t predicting was Hongjoong’s foot in his stomach as he stumbled back, collapsing at the edge of the ring of fire.

“No no no, Seonghwa no, push through, fight through it” I sniffled, a few tears running down my face as I watched Seonghwa get hurt. Hongjoong kicked him again and again to get him weaker, as he was already on the ground. If only Seonghwa hadn’t tried to block the kicks and grabbed his leg and swung him into the fire, then again, I couldn’t train Seonghwa to think like I do.

Hongjoong stood above him, smirking.

“I think you’re time has come, yeah?” He chuckled darkly, a sudden knife appearing as he twirled it around his fingers. Cheater.

“So sad, you wanted to go back home and live a happy life with your girlfriend, right? What was her name again? Ah yes, y/n? You mean the victor from last year? I can only assume she trained you. Looks like you didn’t pay too much attention, huh?” Hongjoong teases and leaned in a bit. Blood poured from Seonghwa’s nose and mouth, dirt covering his face and sticking to his blood-soaked clothes. He was too weak to respond.

“You’re just about useless. I’ll make you useful. You’ll be my final stepping stone to win this thing, yeah? How does that sound?” Hongjoong pinned his wrists so he couldn’t move as he traced Seonghwa’s jawline with the knife.

“Both of her little boy toys are gonna be killed the same way, except you couldn’t protect yourself, San was an act of bravery and love. You... look at you. You’re just a useless piece of shit. How could a girl like her fall in love with a boy like you? Maybe I could get her to fall for me? We’ll see about that. But for now, must I take care of this problem?” Hongjoong laughed at the end before Seonghwa let out a sudden scream, the knife passing through his stomach as Hongjoong only laughed. How could such a man claim he could make me fall in love with him as his hands were covered in my boyfriend’s blood?

“SEONGHWA NO!!!” I screamed, collapsing on the floor.

“You have approximately 8 seconds, anything to say?” Hongjoong cocked his head in fake curiosity.

“Y/n... I love you” Seonghwa’s voice croaked, before his body went motionless.

“SEONGHWA!!! SEONGHWA NO!!!” I screamed again, hitting the screen as a cannon shot went off. I had so much faith in him...

Hongjoong laughed as he became the new victor, the aircraft from the capital coming to gather him and Seonghwa’s dead body.

“I-I love you Seonghwa... please I love you... please don’t leave me like this...” I sobbed on my floor, my tears already puddling on the clean, dark hardwood.

“Please no... I love you Seonghwa... I love you...”

[ghost-nabbers-imagines]

Safe here Larry x fem reader Part 1

I know this is a sensitive topic but it's close to my heart and I’ve been trying to write something involving the topic for a while now using these characters it just fell together. TW:Sexual abuse by a family member. Yes I know this can happen to men too I just wrote this one specifically towards a female for reasons. I really like how this turned out. I’m debating turning it into a series/ book and posting it somewhere but I’m not sure. Anyways enjoy

      I stared at the ceiling above me my body still shaking. How could someone I love do something so awful to me? I rolled over to see my alarm clock read 6:30 AM. I had been laying here for hours already. Right now the only thing I wanted to do was to go see my boyfriend Larry, but there's no way he's up.

      I decided to distract myself by getting in the shower but the moment  the water started to hit my bare skin my breath sped up and I could feel a panic attack coming. This had happened too many times. I curled up in a ball in my shower sobbing into my knees. I felt so unclean like I wanted to burn every inch of my skin. Luckily my family was gone for the day and wouldn't be able to hear my loud sobs. I just sat there feeling the water cool as I broke down. By the time I was able to settle down the water was ice cold but I didn't care I just needed to get out of here.

       I jumped from the shower pulling on my shorts and a shirt. I barely even bothered to dry off so my skin and hair were both soaking wet. I didn't even think twice I ran out of the house into the cold air. Luckily the apartments weren't too far away.

         When I got to the basement Lisa was sitting on the couch sipping coffee while reading the newspaper. "Oh hi sweetie I didn't know you were coming over so early." She smiled turning to look at me fully. Her smile faded seeing my appearance. I probably looked like I was straight out of a cheesy drama movie scene. She looked me over worriedly placing her cup and the paper on the table. "(Y/n) dear your soaking wet and shivering. And have you been crying? What's wrong?" She asked coming over to hug me.

      I wrapped my arms around her feeling the tears start to form again. I wanted to tell Lisa since she's like a mom to me but I had to talk to Larry first. "I-I just need to talk to Larry." I sniffled. "Ok sweetie I'm sure the boys are still sleeping but you can go in and wake them." She informed me.

      Sal must've slept over last night meaning he'd be here to help me calm Larry down after. "Thank you Lisa." I weakly smiled. She released me from the hug giving my hands a squeeze. “I’m here if you need it you know.” I nodded thanking her before quietly entering the room. Sal was already up and was dressed in just a pair of pajama pants with his hair down and without his prosthetic. Luckily Sal trusted me enough to not particularly care that I saw him without it. "Hey (y/n) I didn't know you were coming over today." He said with a small yawn.

       "I wasn’t supposed to I just- I'm sorry to intrude on your guys time but I really needed to talk to Larry about something." I explained. "What's wrong?" He questioned concerned by my appearance. "I just really need to tell him something. And I'm scared if I don't it'll keep happening." I said my eyes welling up, I quickly covered my mouth with my hand to conceal a sob. Clearly seeing the pain I was in he immediately jumped to my side pulling me into a hug.

       "Dude why are you being so fucking loud this early?" Grumbled Larry who was waking up. His blankets were wrapped around him messily partially falling off the bed. He had slept in a pair of boxers and his long hair was all over the place."Sorry baby I didn't mean to wake you." I sniffled. Hearing my voice he sat up rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Larry, (y/n)'s here and she really needs to talk to you." Sal spoke softly leaving his hand on my shoulder. Larry seeing my presence was real jumped up stumbling over his sheets. "Hey babe what're you doing here?" He asked.

       Sal kindly excused himself to go get breakfast grabbing his mask on the way out. “What did you want to tell me angel?” He asked placing his hands on my arms. "Baby you're freezing here put this on." He said grabbing his red hoodie and handing it to me. I pulled it on gratefully before latching myself onto him. "What's wrong?" He whispered kissing the top of my head softly.

       He carefully sat down on his bed pulling me into his lap. While I explained he ran a comforting hand through my hair using the other to hold me close. I just let everything out spilling every gruesome detail. By the time I was done Larry's hand had stopped moving through my hair and was clenched into a fist by his side.. I'm stunned staring at how angry he is. Sure I’ve seen him mad at Travis before but I’ve never seen him like this. His face is deep red, eyebrows furrowed, steam practically spilling from his ears, jaw clenched tightly, he had his fists clenched so hard I thought he'd break his skin. He was absolutely enraged and I not think a bull could have taken him down at that moment.

"I'm gonna kill em." He growls sitting me next to him on the bed before jumping up and storming towards the door. "Larry wait!" I called as he threw the door open and began stomping through the basement. I followed after him Lisa immediately turning towards us confused. "Larry don't do anything stupid please!" I begged holding his arm trying to hold him back. The tears were cascading down my cheeks as I urged my boyfriend to stop. Lisa ran over grabbing his other arm in attempt to hold him back. “Larry calm down I’m sure there’s a calm way to handle whatever’s going on.” Lisa tried to soothe her son while still not knowing the situation. "And let that scum bag get away with touching my girl like that? No! No fucking way!" He growled pulling out of our grasp.     

       Before he could get out the door Sal came in. "Sal stop him please!" I pleaded. Sal turned towards Larry. "Come on Sal we're gonna go kick her (your type of relative)'s fucking ass."  He growled. Sal looked at me probably putting two and two together. I can't even imagine the face he was making under his mask. "Larry settle down going over there and killing them isn't gonna solve anything it'll just get you into trouble." Sal said standing in front of his tall angry friend. "Plus you're still in your boxers." He pointed out. Larry looked down a small blush covering his angry face. "Lar bear why don't you go get changed and calm down while (y/n) and I talk." Lisa spoke softly placing a hand on her son's shoulder. He turned towards me kissing my head before going back to his room slamming the door.

      "(Y/n) sweetheart lets go and sit on the couch, we can talk about this."  She spoke softly while brushing my hair back. I just nodded following her and Sal to the couch. Sal and I took a seat while Lisa began making us some drinks. Sal sat right next to me with a comforting hand rubbing my back.  While my tears had stopped now I was still a bit shaky and his comforting touch helped a small bit.

       "Sal after he's had a few minutes to calm down will you please talk to him?" I asked looking up to meet his icy blue eyes. He nodded understandingly so I wrapped my arms around him. "He's not mad at you ya know. Just mad at himself. He um. He told me about the time you guys were fooling around and you freaked out and left. There was like an hour where he convinced himself you were cheating that that's what made you freak out. Not that he doesn't trust you but you know how he thinks he's cursed. He's probably pissed at himself for not seeing what was really going on. More pissed at himself for not seeing how much you were hurting." Sal explained.

I nodded understanding before pulling away. "And for the record if you want Larry Ash, Maple, Chug, and I will go after this person. Show em what for." He winked making punching motions. "I mean I'd gladly get my ass kicked for you." He laughed. I laughed at the blue haired boy sitting in front of me. It honestly made me so happy to see how many wonderful people Larry had brought into my life. Lisa came back in setting two coffee cups down on the coffee table while Sal went to check on Larry.

~Larry's pov~

      I aggressively pulled on some jeans and began searching for a clean shirt. I was more angry than I had been in my entire life. How could someone do that to (y/n)? How could anyone want to hurt someone so sweet and loving. I couldn’t wipe the image from my mind and it made my blood boil. Letting out an angry growl I threw one of my shirts across the room. A soft knocking at the door caused me to turn around to see Sal standing there awkwardly fiddling with his hands.

       "Hey Larry Face. Feeling any better?" He asked coming in and sitting on a beanbag chair. I flopped myself down onto the other across from him. "No. She's been going through this shit and I fucking accuse her of cheating? I'm such an asshole!" I scolded myself. "Larry you didn't actually accuse her you just thought it once. And we just talked about that she didn't seem bothered." He explained. But I still felt like shit. How could this all be going on and I had no idea?

        "I think right now she's was slightly worried about you being angry she didn't tell you sooner." Sal continued in a soft voice. "Shit, I know I've got to learn to handle my anger better. But I hate that they did that to her. I want them to pay ya know? That asshole deserved to fucking pay for what he put her through. And how could her family just let this happen?" I ranted finally pulling on my Sanity's Fall shirt. "I don't want her going back man. I can't let that happen. I won't." I told him as I struggled to hold back tears. The pain of realizing what she had been feeling and holding back was really starting to get to me. I hated that she had to go through that alone. "That's something to talk about with her." He responded pointing to the doorway where (y/n) stood.

       "Hey babe! How are you feeling?" I asked jumping up and walking over to her. She wrapped her arms around me resting her head against my chest. "I'm sorry to just intrude on your day with Sal and probably ruin your Saturday." She mumbled into my shirt. I pulled her a few feet away from me to meet her eyes. "You have no reason to apologize none of this is your fault. You definitely haven't ruined anything." I told her sternly. "Yeah (Y/n) your safety is much more important than us playing music or video games all day." Sal added. She gave us a weak smile that just shattered my heart.

I sat down on the beanbag chair again pulling her into my lap. I burried my face in her shoulder. I was almost definitely holding her tighter than I should have been but I wanted to hold her in my arms and protect her from anymore pain. Without even realizing it I had started crying. The thought of what had happened burned in my mind forcing me to let it all spill out. The tears just kept falling I couldn't control it. "Larry I'll be ok I promise." She whispered her hands finding their way into my hair. I pulled her even closer. She shouldn’t be the one comforting me right now I knew hag but here she was trying to anyways. "You can't go back there. Please don't go back there. Please." I begged her not moving my head from her shoulder.

"I can stay here tonight but I'll eventually have to go back there babe." She responded. "You can stay here for as long as you want love. But if you insist on going back can I go with you? At least the first night you're there?" I asked. There was no way in hell they were getting away with this. Definitely not a chance in hell she would keep living there. She pulled away just enough to give me a kiss.

"Your mom wants me to go to the cops. Will you and Sal come too?" She asked. I nodded as did Sal. "We're here for you (y/n)." He pointed out. "Thanks guys. I don't know what I'd do without you." She smiled wiping her eyes. "You'll never have to find out." Sal said making me nod in agreement. "You should stay here for at least a month." I told her only half joking. She smiled slightly shaking her head. "I didn't bring any of my clothes Lar." She pointed out. "You know I fucking love it when you wear my clothes so that's not a problem. And we'll go over to your place together to pick up your stuff." I suggested really hoping she'd just give in and stay here. Hell she could always move in. Maybe I'll run that by mom later.

*Time skip to later that day*

        My mom, Sal, (y/n), and I exited the police station after what can only be described as a few stressful hours of them taking (Y/n)'s statement. Sal and (Y/n) we're walking upfront talking about something. My mom and I walked a bit behind.

"I'm proud of you Larry."

"Why what did I do?"

"You've just grown up a lot. You've got a girlfriend you clearly love a lot. And being with her through something like this? That shows how responsible you've become."

"Mom you're not gonna get all emotional on me are you?"

"Joke all you want Lar Bear but I'm proud of the young man you're becoming" (that just gave me ptsd to even type)

"About (Y/n), I was uh wondering if she could stay us? For a while at least?"

"Of course she's staying with us! There's no way she's going back to that place."

"Thanks mom. You're fucking awesome you know."

"Watch your mouth Lar. And yes I know. But you have to promise me that there will be no funny business if I let her move in with you otherwise you’ll be sleeping In the treehouse every night."

I couldn't help but smile at my moms laughter towards her own joke. It had become such a warm and comforting sound. "Of course mom. Thank you so much." I promised pulling her into a hug. We caught up to Sal and (Y/n) who were discussing something in class.

So there’s part one possibly. Let me know if you think I should turn it into a series on something like Archive or Wattpad.

~Lex💛

[rickstexaschick]

Rick and Harley: Chapter 4

This is a continuation of the backstory of Rick and Harley, in their years together before Rick’s Texas Chick.  The original is posted on AO3 at:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16592366/chapters/38884421

Harley’s room was sparsely furnished.  A huge bed with a wrought iron frame took up most of the space, two small bedside tables with lamps stood on either side.

”We’re gonna...probably need some — some kind of lube...”  Rick started, hesitantly. Harley was taking off his shirt, then stopped.  “Shit, you’re right.  I was just so horny, I didn’t think of that...I don’t know if I have...”  He went to one of the bedside tables and opened the drawer, rummaging the contents around.  “Shit.  Check the other one.” Rick went and opened the drawer of the other table and came up with one small tube of lubricant which was mostly empty. “Fuck.” Harley put his shirt back on and tucked himself back in his jeans, zipping and buttoning them.  Rick’s hopes flagged, but he misinterpreted Harley’s actions. ”W-W-Wait — hang on just one second.  Five — ten minutes, tops.  I’ll be right back...”  He left the room.   Rick heard the sizzling whirl of the portal, indicating that Harley had left.  Presumably to go get some lube.  Rick was still standing in the middle of the room with his pants open, his dick growing soft.  He looked down at it. ”Well, fuck...”  He stripped out of his remaining clothes and went in the adjoining bathroom to take a leak.  He looked at the bathtub enclosed by a plain, white shower curtain.  Might as well.  Diane always made him shower before they had sex, even after all their years together.  It still always killed the mood a little bit for him.  Like he was unclean.  But this time it made sense. He cleaned himself thoroughly, then ran his soapy hands up and down his shaft, bringing his erection back, harder than ever.  He was standing in the hot water, stroking himself when Harley stepped in from around the curtain. ”Man, you’re not gettin’ yourself off without me, are you?”  Harley moved closer to Rick and the two men kissed.  This time their kiss was immediate and aggressive, no more awkwardness or tentative exploration of the situation.  They were the same height, so no bending over, straining his neck or back, like with Diane.... Rick realized he had to stop comparing everything to his wife.  He reached down with a soapy hand and stroked and fondled Harley’s partially erect cock, bringing it standing to attention with full force.  Harley groaned into his mouth, enjoying the slippery feel of Rick’s hand sliding up and down, gripping with just the right amount of firmness.  Their cocks bumped against each other and Rick held them together, stroking them with perfect pressure and speed, rubbing his thumb across the heads.  The effect was incredible and both men were groaning and gasping into each other’s mouths. Harley pulled away, and said shakily, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum all over you if you keep this up.  What, uh...what do you want, man?” ”Just...wait...”  Rick soaped up his hands then reached around and slid one soapy hand between Harley’s cheeks, stroking his ass.  He kissed Harley, sliding his tongue

in his mouth while he applied pressure with his fingertips, circling and stroking across the puckered entrance, making Harley groan against his lips.  He carefully pushed one finger in and stroked in and out.  Harley shuddered, his legs buckling.  He gripped Rick’s arms, squeezing tight. “Fuck...fuck me...Oh my God...” ”Now we can go.  Your water’s fucking freezing, man...” Indeed, they’d been messing around in the shower for so long that they’d nearly run through all the hot water.  Harley ducked under the shower head to rinse off the remaining soap. ”Aww, this is nothing, there’s still some hot water left.  The cold water’s about 66 degrees year ‘round.  The well’s 350 feet underground.” ”Well let’s get the fuck out, I don’t need to feel it to believe it.” Harley laughed and turned off the water.  They stepped out of the tub and shared his one bath towel. ”You’re gonna need — gonna have to get more towels, dude, if...” Rick paused, looking at Harley questioningly. ”Yeah, don’t worry.  I will...”  Harley leaned in and kissed him on the lips.  “Come on.  I don't want to have gone all the way to The Citadel for nothing...I hate going to that place...” Out on the bed was a black plastic bag.  Harley dumped out the contents: two large tubes of lube.  No condoms. ”I’m clean, if that’s what you're wondering.  But there’s a clinic on The Citadel, it’s located right across the street from the sex shop where I got the lube.  They can cure every kind of social disease.  Even ones you’ve never heard of, from other dimensions.  And,” he laughed, “I doubt you’ll get me pregnant.  So, you know...” ”Bottom’s up, huh?”  Rick grinned at him.  “Come on, I get the feeling you wanna catch the first pitch, right?” They lay down on the bed together.  Harley lay on his back and Rick hovered over him, kissing him while he reached down to stroke and caress Harley’s thick cock.  He sat back and popped open the cap on the lube and squirted out a generous amount. The few times he and Diane had tried anal intercourse he’d had to lube the crap out of her, no pun intended, and take his time stretching her open.  He loved it, of course, but she could never really get into it. He took his time, stroking and caressing Harley’s puckered entrance while they continued to kiss.  Then he carefully inserted one finger, pushing past the tight ring of muscle.  Harley tensed up, muttering something between a groan and a curse. ”Just breathe, man...”  Rick continued stroking in and out. ”Christ, I am…  Oh, fuck, this feels...”  Harley reached down and began to stroke his own cock. Rick curved his finger, stroking it across Harley’s prostate.  Harley arched off the bed and he cried out with pleasure.

”OH, JESUS, FUCK!  What is that?”   Rick laughed.  “That’s your prostate, you idiot.  Didn’t you take high school biology?” “I dropped...dropped out...School’s a waste...Oh FUCK!” Rick had applied more lube and inserted a second finger, gently stretching out the ringed muscle.  Harley’s eyes were closed and he was taking deep, shaking breaths while still stroking himself.  Precum was dripping out of his cock and down his hand.

Rick inserted a third finger and slowly stroked in and out, pushing in all the way to his knuckles, then curling them and dragging across his prostate on the way back.  As he pulled out, he scissored his fingers, stretching Harley as much as possible. Rick had been stroking himself with his other hand.  His dick was beet red and rock hard and dripping with precum.  Harley’s was curved up to his stomach, a pool of precum beneath it.  Harley was groaning with pleasure. “You — you ready?  I’m not gonna be able wait much longer here, before I —“ ”Fuck yeah.  Do it.” Rick lubed himself up and then scooted himself between Harley’s legs.  “Take a deep breath...”. He waited for Harley to breathe in and relax himself, then he slowly pushed in.  He paused, looking up at Harley, who was breathing deep and gripping the sheets, his eyes closed.  Then Rick pushed past that ring of muscle, groaning with how good it felt. ”Christ, you’re tight.  Oh, fuck...”. He rose up on his knees, grasping Harley’s hips and pulling his legs on either side of him.  He held onto his hips while he slowly stroked in and out, gradually going deeper each time.  He was fighting the urge to just pound into the man beneath him. ”Ohmygod, oh fuck!  Oh, yeah.  Fuck me, man.  Jesus...” ”You’re so tight...God, you feel incredible...”   Both men were panting and gasping with pleasure, interspersed with deep groans. Rick picked up his speed until he was going at a brisk rhythm.  Harley’s back was arched off the bed, and he reached up with both hands and grabbed the wrought iron headboard to keep from being slammed into it, his muscles tensing with the effort.  The headboard was banging against the wall behind him.   Rick was firmly gripping him around his hips, pulling him in with each thrust.  He tilted his pelvis and changed his angle, searching for —- “AAAAAHHH.  FUCK!”  Harley went as rigid as a plank as Rick stroked across his prostate, over and over.  “I’m gonna fucking cum — oh, shit, FUCK!” ”Cum for me, man.  Let me see that big cock blow it’s load...” “Oh, CHRIST, fucking Jesus!  FUCK... FUCK!!!”  Harley’s body shuddered as his cock spewed thick, hot stripes of cum up to his chest, and he tightened spasmodically around Rick’s own thrusting cock. ”Yeah, man, fuck, fuckin’ FUCK!”  Rick gave one last thrust into Harley, driving as deep as he could, gripping him by the hips to hold him place.  His body trembled and shook as his orgasm ripped through him like a shock wave.  His cock throbbed and emptied deep inside Harley.  He stroked in and out a few more times before pulling out and collapsing onto the bed on his side, facing him.  Harley’s eyes were closed and he smiled, open mouthed, as he continued to drag in air. Rick reached out and tentatively placed one hand, palm side down, on Harley’s sweaty chest, still heaving with his labored breathing and smeared with his cum.  Harley laid his hand over it and gripped it tight, his eyes still closed, still smiling. ”That was...fucking incredible...I’ve never...cum so hard...in my life...” ”Me neither, man...”  Rick was breathing heavily and sweating. ”Mind if I just sleep, for a bit...Then we can...switch...”  Harley’s voice was thick and drowsy.  He felt completely wiped out. In response, Rick sat up and reached down to where the covers had gotten shoved to the bottom of the bed.  He pulled them up, covering them both, then turned and scooted up against Harley. ”Man, your house is fucking cold...” Harley rolled onto to his side and Rick spooned up behind him and wrapped one arm over his chest.  Doing it as much for warmth as he was for cuddling.  Harley took his hand and laced his fingers through Rick’s, then gave him a gentle squeeze. He mumbled into the pillow.  “The water’s cold, the house is cold...Bitch, bitch, bitch...  I just need to...go light a fire...  I’ll do it...in a minute...” His deep breathing indicated that that wasn’t going to be happening anytime soon, so Rick just snuggled up tighter and was soon asleep, himself. tbc

[linguisticswithlester]

Let Me Memorize Your Eyes - Chapter Seven: Curiosity (Almost) Killed the Cat 

Rating: NR

Chapter:  7/?

Word Count: 2239

Warnings: Nope, None I think

Notes: Hey! I am so sorry this chapter took so long to come about. I had to severely do some adulting these last two weeks and haven't had time for much else. I'm sorry I made you guys wait so long but, I should be back to posting every Monday! I may have Chapter 8 up some time this week as well to make up for the two weeks I missed so, if you want, look forward to that.I hope you enjoy this chapter! 

Summary: Phil is a struggling artist with bruised trust and Dan is a talented baker working in a coffee shop trying to forget his smoldering past. When their paths cross will Dan end up being Phil’s new muse? Or will he be the one thing keeping Phil from putting a brush to canvas ever again?

[Read on AO3]

[Start at the Beginning]

     Dan took out the wash rag and tucked Phil’s book into the pocket of his apron. Finishing the last few tables that were left still unclean, Dan set out to quickly wipe them down and be on his way. This was Dan’s first night closing, and while he didn't know the formal closing procedure here, Dan treated it like he did his own shop back home. He made sure everything was wiped down, any and every machine was shut off; windows were wiped and leftover baked goods boxed up and ready to be donated.

    He didn't mind cleaning; it was therapeutic in a way. Watching as things once dirty or smudged become clean and ready for round two was comforting. Maybe that could be him one day.

     “Hey, what's that?” Becca asked as she slung a towel over her shoulder and gestured to Dan’s waist.

    “Oh, I found it over where Phil was sitting. I think it may be his sketchbook or something.” Dan reached down and pulled the book from its resting place; It really was a beautiful book.

    “Hmm….” Becca stated as she put her finger to her chin to make it look like she was deep in thought, “...should we look inside to see if his contact information is in there?” Something about the way she said that made Dan guess she really didn't care about contact info; a look of mischief was written on her face.

    Hesitant, Dan replied, “I don't really think that’s a good idea. Phil seemed pretty protective of this book and doesn't really want anyone to see in it right now.” He looked down at the ink covered book in his hands and he couldn't lie, he was curious to see what was inside. “If he really does come in everyday like you said he does, then we can give it to him tomorrow night. Hell, he might even come back for it in the morning once he realizes its missing.”

    Becca flashed a bewildering smile that could put the Joker out of business, “Yeah,” she said dragging the word out adding uncertainty to it, “or we could just have a peek inside, see what he has been working on, close it, put it in a safe spot for him to come pick up tomorrow and, what he doesn't know won’t kill him, yeah?” Said with one breath, Dan was impressed.

    He knew that if the situation was reversed and this was his book, he would be a worried mess right about now and would hope whoever found it would respect his privacy. However, curiosity was always something he fought with. Some days it paid off, other times it caused him unnecessary pain. Becca was the devil on his shoulder and tonight she was saying kill the cat.  

     Dan just wanted to take a look at the last drawing Phil was working on, that’s all. He wouldn’t look at any other pages in the book, just that one and be done with it. That wouldn’t be that bad would it? Phil did say he wasn't comfortable sharing his work right now but, damn, Dan wanted to take a peek. It looked like someone Dan knew and it was driving Dan mad that that he couldn't place who it was. What if they had a mutual friend… maybe it would give them a chance to hang out, outside of the cafe…

     The devil was getting louder.

    “So what about it, Dan? To peek or not to peek?”

    Before Dan could answer, a loud banging came from the front door.  

_______________________________________________________________________

    An out of breath Phil was banging on the front door. Trying the door handle one more time, knowing fully well that it would still be locked just like it was four seconds ago, he peeked in and saw Dan and Becca standing by the counter.

    Oh god…

    Phil’s stomach fell out of his ass and was currently running down the street looking for a good place to bury itself.

    Dan had the book.

    He looked over at Phil through the window with an expression on his face that Phil couldn't read. Did he already look through it? Did he see the umpteen drawings and sketches that Phil had in there that were of Dan and his curly locks? Was the expression one of disgust and pity? Phil’s heart started to beat at an alarming rate and his palms got clammy and started to shake.

    “Remain calm, Phil. He could have just found it and haven’t had the chance to look through it yet.” His said to himself trying to contain his composure and not look like a lunatic outside of a coffee shop.

    Sending a friendly wave to them in the shop while trying to look casual, Becca ran over to the door to unlock it. Dan still had the book resting between his hands.

    Shit.

    “Hey, Phil! Back for your book?” Becca asked full of life and, was that a hint of amusement too? Did she go through it?

    “Hey, yeah. I realized I had left it behind as I got a few blocks down. I got nervous someone might have found it. But I see you guys have it so I shouldn't have been worried.” He added that last bit to reassure himself more than anything. He leaned his head forward and motioned to Dan holding the book in an unnatural way. Hands on both sides, white knuckled and the book was completely horizontal.

Phil was sure he read it.

    “Oh yeah, I found this just a few minutes ago as I went to wipe the tables down. I thought it looked familiar.” Dan said as he still held the book in that uncomfortable position and made his way closer to where Phil and Becca where standing. He let out a huff of breath that could have been taken for a poor attempt of a laugh. “Don't worry we kept it safe for you.” Dan added trying to sound light and airy and not like he almost got caught going through it.

    “Oh great.” Phil said acting as casual as he possibly could while reaching for the book that held all his secrets. How could he have been so careless?

    “I really appreciate you guys grabbing it for me and for letting me back in to get it. I know you guys are closed and everything, so thank you.” Having the book back in his possession calmed his fears a little bit. Now to figure out if they looked inside. Any other person would just come out and ask if they did but, Phil couldn't ask that; Not right now. He would have to come up with a way to get them to say if they did or not.

    As Phil grabbed the book from Dan, their hands brushed together in a cliché fashion. Dan’s hands were soft and they slipped right through the grasp that would have been Phil’s. They felt like they knew pain but, they also felt like the world would never even think of hurting someone so soft and pure. As Dan’s hands fully left Phil’s, he could have sworn he heard slight gasp as the contact left.

    Phil looked up at Dan to see the younger boy’s eyes drifting to anything other than Phil. He must have seen the drawings…

    “Hey Phil!” Becca’s voice pierced Phil's thoughts that had been over taken by worry. “Since it’s late and we’re basically all closed up here, want to walk out with us? I would hate for you to be walking by yourself at this hour.”

    Dan and Phil both shot her a glare. Dan let out a laugh and shook his head real slow. Phil just raised an eyebrow.

    “What?” She asked, raising her arms above her shoulders? “Oh! Sorry, my mother instincts kick in from time to time. No arguing, we are walking out together no matter what kind of look you boys give me.” And with that, Becca turned around with a quick snap of the hair she had up in a bun and headed to the back to get her stuff.

    “Haha, I haven't seen Becca in mom mode before. It suits her.” Phil said turning to face the brunette. Trying not to let his fears eat him away, Phil smiled. “I guess I'm walking out with you guys then.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels looking down at his feet.

    “This is gonna be some walk” Phil thought to himself as Dan rushed to follow Becca back into the employee area. He shook his head and waited.

_______________________________________________________________________

 Once Dan knew that he was far enough from Phil for him to be able to hear, he ran back to where Becca was. She was calmly grabbing her purse out of her locker, seeming unbothered by the events that just took place.

     “Becca! What was that?” Dan shrieked as he threw his apron off. He was slightly huffing in breath, not sure if that was because of the slight exercise that just took place or the fact that Phil almost saw them going through his book, the one thing Phil has asked them not to do.

    Slowing turning to hang up her apron on the hook labeled “Becca” she looked at Dan over her shoulder and smirked.

    “What? I would feel bad if we made him walk home all alone on a night like this.” She said smoothly, not phased at all.

    “That's not what I'm talking about. We almost got caught looking through something he told us not to.”

    “Oh so you would have looked, huh? Giving me that judgmental glare and all along you were gonna go with it. I see how it is.” She looked Dan up and down as she said that, hand on her hip; her mom stare was pretty good too.

    “Besides, if he wouldn't have left his book here, you may not of had the opportunity to talk with him outside of work. Now, you get to walk him home. Just don't do anything I wouldn't do on the first date.”

    Dan choked on his breathe, “W-what?”

    “Dan, I have only seen you guys in the same room twice and I can already tell you're smitten. You look at him like he is the most beautiful person that has walked this face of this planet. Your eyes do way more talking than your mouth.”

    “I-” Nothing came; he had no follow up. Was it really that obvious? No, it couldn't be. He was in long-term relationship; it must just be the lighting making his eyes look like a star-struck lover.

    “Yeah, that's what I thought. Let's go. We don't want to kept Mr. Lester waiting.” Becca replied heading for door. She flipped her head in an over dramatic fashion as to show her point.

    Dan just stood there with his arms by his side. What just happened? Why was his stomach doing the flippy over thing? It couldn't be because of the thought of Phil... could it?

    With a deep breath in, Dan emerged from the backroom after a few minutes with his phone in hand.

    “Okay, ready to go?”

    Phil looked up at Dan through his framed glasses and Dan finally got to see his eyes. They were blue with a hint of yellow and even some green; they were beautiful. To compare them to the ocean would be an understatement.

    “Ready if you are.” Phil said grabbing he straps of his book bag that set on either side of his chest.

    “Off we go!” Becca threw her arm forward pointing towards the direction of the exit.

    Gathering together and heading for the door, Dan was the one who reached for the handle to open it, letting Phil and Becca trail behind. He still didn't have a key to the shop yet so Becca had to lock it up.

    “Okay, boys. That walk from the counter to the front door was fun and it is a memory I will cherish forever but, I actually have a ride tonight. One of my girlfriends came to pick me up so we can see a late showing to a movie, so I unfortunately can't continue on with this journey.” She switched her glaze to Phil. “Now, don't worry. Dan will walk you all the way back to your flat. I remember you mentioned you didn't live that far from here, so it won’t be problem at all, if he does. He himself, doesn't live but five minutes from here.”

Dan sucked in a breath and shot Becca his best “what the hell are you doing?” Face. This wasn’t part of the agreement. Hell, there was no agreement to begin with.

    “Night, Phil. I'm glad we were able to keep your precious book safe for you. I hope you have a great night.” Dan hated the way she said great… what was she implying?

    Becca walked over to Dan and went in for a hug.

    She got close and wrapped her arms around Dan’s neck. He felt the breath of her words on his neck as she spoke them, “You're welcome, Daniel.” Slowly leaving his ears burning, she turned towards the car parked across the street. She looked back, saying bye once more before leaving Dan alone with the man who made his heart skip a beat with every glance.

    Now what?

[huhmeed]

1

Hello.

I am laying in my bed, surrounded by pillows. The air conditioning is on and I am wearing a sweater. Recently, I’ve wanted to start something and make it special to me. I decided what’s better than a blog where I just rant and talk about anything that I want to talk about, without the fear of being judged? I mean, obviously people are going to judge me and that’s why I’ve turned my ask page off... So people can’t voice what they want to say about me. Maybe I’ll turn it on sooner or later if this turns into something, but as of now... it will stay off. Also, quite frankly, I could give a bigger fuck.

I’m just gonna go off on a whim here. Talk about anything that comes to my mind.

There is so much that goes on in the world, and there is so much that we, as humans, are in control of, whether we know it or not. People always say things like “look on the bright side,” or “look at the positive things in life instead of the negative.” Well, I’m not trying to be a negative nelly but when the world and so many people’s lives are filled with horrible things, there is nothing we should be doing BUT addressing the problem(s) at hand, and focusing on the negative. Getting rid of the negative (or at least trying to do something about/talking about it) is the first step in creating a better world. I know that sounds cliché as hell but if you think about it, everything that we think is ruining our lives is deemed to be “fixable.” 

I could list a few things about the world for you off the top of my head that are fucked up that we, the human population, can very easily fix or make worse:

racism

war and terrorism

poverty

homophobia

animal abuse

climate change

unemployment

sexism

These are all problems that are in the hands of us. I don’t give a fuck how stupid that sounds. 

Sexism? To all the “men” (or as I like to call guys who are like this... “little bitch boys”), stop being misogynistic fucks and start treating women the same way you would treat your “best bro.” Forget about the whole “what if she was your mom/sister/daughter” bullshit. A woman is a person. A human being with emotions and feeling. The same as a male. 

I absolutely despise how society and generations upon generations before us made women to be the “lesser” gender. It is absolutely fucked up. 

I know this is something you’ve probably heard before, but women do so much more than men ever could. Apart from going through their monthly cycle and giving birth, if all the women on earth came together, they would completely destroy the male species and wipe out any evidence that men were ever a thing. The male population of the world would be a speck of dust and nothing more if that ever happened.

We already know that women can do everything that a man can do, plus more. So, why are some women, not even in certain countries but still, to this day, the United States being seen as inferior to the male species? I don’t understand. 

Just because you have a penis does not mean that you’re shit. It does not mean that you can do anything you want to and get away with it, and it certainly does not mean that you have to be an entitled piece of shit that thinks that females are your “bitches.”

Wow. I’m pissed off now. Which I guess is a good thing considering I want my posts to have a bit of depth and emotion. So let’s continue.

Racism and homophobia... I know they’re not the same thing but they definitely fall under the same category when it comes to centuries upon centuries of discrimination.

Side note: I am a religious person, so anything that I’m saying right now isn’t necessarily biased.

My thing is, in regards to homophobia, most people are against it because of something written in religious scripts, thousands and thousands of years ago. How about we look at everything in the Bible, Quran, and Torah that people fail to follow but yet are still somehow so stuck on one. simple. thing.

Bible

"Thou shalt not hate thy brother in thine heart: thou shalt in any wise rebuke [reason with] thy neighbour, and not suffer sin upon him. Thou shalt not avenge, nor bear any grudge against the children of thy people, but thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself: I am the Lord." (Leviticus 19:17-18)

"Whosoever putteth away his wife, and marrieth another, committeth adultery: and whosoever marrieth her that is put away from her husband committeth adultery." (Luke 16:18)

"But I say unto you, That whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery with her already in his heart." (Matthew 5:28)

"Happy shall he be, that taketh and dasheth thy little ones against the stones." (Psalm 137:9)

"But if she bear a maid child, then she shall be unclean two weeks, as in her separation: and she shall continue in the blood of her purifying threescore and six days." (Leviticus 12:5)

"Master, Moses wrote unto us, If a man's brother die, and leave his wife behind him, and leave no children, that his brother should take his wife, and raise up seed unto his brother." (Mark 12:19)

“If in spite of this you still do not listen to me but continue to be hostile toward me, 28 then in my anger I will be hostile toward you, and I myself will punish you for your sins seven times over. 29 You will eat the flesh of your sons and the flesh of your daughters."(Leviticus 26:27-30)

"For whatsoever man he be that hath a blemish, he shall not approach: a blind man, or a lame, or he that hath a flat nose, or any thing superfluous, Or a man that is brokenfooted, or brokenhanded, Or crookbackt, or a dwarf, or that hath a blemish in his eye, or be scurvy, or scabbed, or hath his stones broken. No man that hath a blemish of the seed of Aaron the priest shall come nigh to offer the offerings of the Lord made by fire: he hath a blemish; he shall not come nigh to offer the bread of his God." (Leviticus 21:18-21)

"For I am come to set a man at variance against his father, and the daughter against her mother, and the daughter in law against her mother in law. And a man's foes shall be they of his own household. He that loveth father or mother more than me is not worthy of me: and he that loveth son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me." (Matthew 10:35-27)

Quran

Kill disbelievers wherever you find them. If they attack you, then kill them. Such is the reward of disbelievers. (Quran 2:191)

Those who brag about doing good will go to hell. (Quran 3:188)

It is a sin to pluck your eyebrows.

It is against Islamic doctrine to have pictures in your home. 

Women are not allowed to wear hair extensions or a wig. 8. Wearing the color yellow is forbidden. 

A Muslim must avoid yawning. Mohammad said, "Yawning is from Satan." 

Dogs should be killed. All dogs.

Mohammad recommended women breastfeed young men. Then the men are considered family and would be allowed to talk to the woman unveiled. However, once she breastfed him, he would not be allowed to marry her. 

It is a sin to lie on your back and cross your feet.

Torah

God then commands that all women must have dangerous childbirths because Eve ate the fruit. In no way shape or form is it just that I must pay for the sins of my ancestors. (Genesis 3:16)

Sucking on bloody infant penis.

Not touching your husband/wife for half of your life.

Swinging a live chicken around their heads.

Showing your wife’s dirty underwear to a rabbi.

Your pants can be any color you want. As long as it’s black.

TV and Internet are assur [prohibited]. 

If you cut a child’s hair before the age of 3, he will be stupid.

So, all in all, unless you’re going to follow every rule in whatever book you follow, stop thinking that it’s okay to judge someone based on something that they can’t even follow. Muslims; before you judge someone for being a part of the LGBTQ+ community, make sure you stop yawning. Jews; before you before you judge someone for being a part of the LGBTQ+ community, make sure you you’ve swung a live chicken around it’s head. And Christians; before you judge someone for being a part of the LGBTQ+ community, make sure that you know you’re going to hell for doing so because well... you’re supposed to love everyone.

How about we think about what things were like back when these Holy books were written, too? With holy figures around, who would have wanted to be an outed gay or lesbian? That’s like coming out to your strict conservative parents... Someone probably would have cut off your head or shunned you from the village.

All of that is besides the point...

Why are people so concerned about who someone has sex with or who someone loves? It’s none of our concern. Like... at all. It is completely wrong and there’s just this morality that some people are missing. If something doesn’t concern you and you’re not affected by it, in the slightest way, then shut the fuck up and stop worrying about what others do. And that goes for the strict conservative families of the LGBTQ+ community that think they’re hot shit.

Your child getting married to the same sex is none of your business. You’re not affected by it. If you don’t wanna pay for the wedding, or you don’t wanna be a part of their lives, trust me when I say I think your child will be more than comfortable with that idea in a couple years. They won’t have to deal with your unwanted, unappreciated comments and thoughts anymore.

Moving on...

To those that think it’s in any way okay to think that someone is inferior to them due to the complexion of their skin... here’s what I have to say to you: Fuck you.

You are the definition of what is wrong with the world. Stop thinking that you’re better than everyone else just because you blend in with the snow. 

To be honest, I have met so many more beautiful African Americans, Middle Easterns, Asian, and Hispanic people than I have met white people.

White people think that they truly run this world.

Let me tell you something. I’m gonna reiterate what I said earlier about women... if all the colored people in the world came together, white people will be left as a speck of dust on the face of the planet earth. They would be absolutely nothing. 

There is nothing wrong with you just because your complexion is a little darker than the average person (which, by the way, is white). There is not one thing that you can’t do just because you’re not white and there is not one single race that is better than or superior to all other races. So get that idea out of your head.

I think this whole blogging thing is good for me. I don’t really care if no one reads it, I’m just gonna keep doing it. In the next couple of days, expect a post on how police are pieces of shit. 

Thanks for reading!

[theramseyloft]

I'm reading responses to your old(ish) post about you referring to Ankhou as a Service pigeon, and not simply an ESA. A lot of people got their feathers all ruffled over this, some claiming that ALL birds are unhygienic, unable to be trained, loud, skittish, and overall horrible candidates for service animals. As a pigeon expert, do you believe these are significant concerns? And would bird fancier's lung pose serious concern if pigeons did act as service animals in public?

I had to change the language used to refer to him because Service Animal is a legal distinction when it comes to the public access allowed.

In Ga, only dogs can be legally considered service animals, and even then, only for the blind, deaf, and mobility impaired. 

Medical Alert dogs? Not allowed public access in GA as a Service Animal. Those people hafta stay home or have human company. 

MOST hotels in this state will deny access to people who need service dogs and nobody gives enough of a shit to enforce what access laws we actually have.

Ankhou is more correctly referred to as my Assistance Animal, by the fair housing act definition, so that is what I call him, instead of my Service Bird. (In FL, pretty much any species can legally be called a service animal, but that is not where I live.)

He is my stress level alert bird, and keeps me from going into overwhelmed shut down. But he has recently also become my medical alarm. (I take my assorted meds on a schedule, and he gets my attention and leads me to them when I have lost track of time.)

Ankhou trained himself to both tasks because my shut down state freaks him out and he likes keeping me and Mike on schedule. 

This is one of those cases where Bird automatically means Parrot, unless disease is involved, in which case THEN it means pigeon!

That accusation that all birds are loud, for example. Have you ever heard a pigeon? That low, gurgling coo isn’t gonna hurt any ones ears or startle them out of their skin.

While it’s true that not every pigeon has the temperament to be calm and unafraid in public, neither does every dog. 

Puppies bred specifically for Service still have to go through several evaluations and tons of training before they can be considered Service Dogs, and not every puppy will pass.

While it is true that most birds are reactionary, startle very hard, and stress very easily, the birds most people consider to be pets are still wild animals. 

Pigeons are NOT.

Pigeons are just as domesticated as dogs and are inherently comfortable around people. A pigeon with the right temperament could easily learn to be just as nonreactive as a well trained service dog.

There are things a dog can do that a pigeon could not. 

They are not large enough to lift or carry or aid with mobility. 

While their vision is excellent, they are just not big enough to help some one who is visually impaired maneuver.

Where pigeons would really shine is in the areas of mental health. They are fantastic anxiety birds that are VERY good at reading their handlers and knowing when to just comfort and when to demand their handler find some place quiet and settle.

They are VERY naturally inclined to recognize shut down and panic states and a pidge bonded to its handler will be motivated to help settle them back out of it.

There are certain legitimate concerns preventing pigeons from becoming Service Animals with full public access, but they are more for the safety of the bird than people. 

Dogs have vaccines for pretty much every dangerous illness they could come across from other dogs. 

Pigeons HAD vaccines for PMV, Avian Pox, and Salmonella, but that was it and those aren’t the only dangerous things they could pick up. 

Now that it is illegal to medicate ones own birds, the places in the US that made and regulated those vaccines have been shut down and they have been made illegal to import.

Pigeons have been left entirely unprotected.

The diseases they can give humans, like Salmonella, can be tested for pretty easily, treated quickly, and entirely prevented for an indoor pet.

People complaining about pigeons spreading pigeon lung don’t actually know what bird fancier’s lung is or is caused by.

The quicker onset of bird fanciers lung is caused by inhaling the spores of a fungus that grows well in pigeon feces. Buuut, it takes three days to build up enough poo to provide the right culture environment, and two more days for the fungus to produce fruiting bodies. That means that the enclosure has to go uncleaned for a total of 5 days in order to be exposed.

It’s revoltingly common for pigeon lofts to be cleaned all of EIGHT TIMES A FUCKING YEAR!!! 

But who the hell is gonna let a house pet’s cage get THAT level of nasty? 

If you only have one bird, it takes 3-5 minutes to clean, wipe, and vacuum around the enclosure, and most people do that daily.

The other onset of Bird Fancier’s lung is a cumulative effect of dust building up a coating on the inside of the lungs.

Do you know how many YEARS that takes? Of CONSTANTLY breathing in CLOUDS of feather dander?

If you have an instant reaction to a bird, it is not bird fanciers lung. That’s asthma or an allergy to the dander. Both of which are legitimate public safety concerns, especially in confined spaces and on hospital or other medical care grounds.

You can lessen the dander for a day’s outing by letting the bird take a bath first, but especially in the case of pigeons, preening the chest feathers will make more.

What people are referring to as hygene, though, is almost entirely an issue of poop, and believe it or not, pigeons *can* be safely potty trained.

Ankhou alerts me when he has to poo by getting down off my shoulder, onto my hand and leaning like he wants to jump down.That is my cue to take him outside, find the bathroom, or open a tissue for him to use, depending on what’s closest.

Outside is pretty self explanatory.

If the bathroom is closest, I hold him over a running sink or open trash can.

In the middle of a large store, I pull a tissue out of my purse and open it for him. He goes on it, and then I fold it up, tuck it into the used tissue ziplock bag in my purse, apply a drop of hand sanitizer, and we’re done. Sanitary, discreet, and quiet.

Any pigeon could be trained to do that, no diaper needed.

People *REALLY* had to fight tooth and nail to get service dogs accepted by the general public, and in places like Ga, they are STILL having to fight tooth and nail for the laws on the fucking books to actually be enforced.

People who need their dogs to get around or even live are STILL barred from hotels, restaurants, and as many public places as think they can get away with it.

So after all that work and all the bullshit they STILL deal with, it’s entirely understandable that other, less thoroughly tested species, potentially getting public access and fucking it up the way some people’s ESAs or pets they’ve lied about have for them would worry them enough to push back.

They don’t want to make other people’s lives harder or gate keep service animals.

But people’s poorly trained ESAs and pets have made hotel, store, and restaurant owners and managers less friendly and in some cases outright hostile towards service animals in general, which is fucking dangerous to the people that physically need them!

While I firmly believe that pets should be able to go where ever their people go, it should be just as important to be sure those pets are safe, comfortable, and well behaved in public.

None of us live in a bubble. Things we do effect other people, and the more aware and respectful we are of that, the easier we make life for all parties involved.