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tulsa-trash · 3 years

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Book Swap

Request: could you do a modern!pony x reader imagine where you're both in 9th grade and meet at the library, and one day you finally have the guts to ask for his number, so you guys start texting and then you start crushing on him and then you have to figure out how to tell him, so u ask two-bit and johnny for advice

WARNING(S): N/A

You sighed deeply as you began to reread the same sentence in your book for what felt like the twentieth time. It seemed as though you were reading but not even comprehending the words. To be fair, it was impossible to get lost in a book when a familiar cute boy was sitting a table over from you.

Ponyboy Curtis. How does one even begin to describe the amazing human you had the honor of being within five feet of? Unlike most guys in high school, Pony was something special. He was kind and very smart, you knew this because you have English with him. You've never seen someone so into a class before, he also appeared to have an interest in literature, like you. The both of you were nothing but mere acquaintances, and you secretly wished you could change that.

It didn't help that you found him absolutely dreamy. His brown hair was always a little messy, but it still managed to make him even cuter. You always feel your heart skip a beat whenever your eyes would meet his sparkling green ones in the hallways. You'd smile whenever you'd see him laughing with his friends, it showed off his dimples that sunk into his cheeks. Ponyboy Curtis was the boy of your dreams, and the young man was completely oblivious.

Your phone vibrated on the desk you were sitting at. Glancing up from your book, you seen that it was a text from one of your friends. After placing your bookmark in between the pages you unlocked your phone.

Evie: So? Did you talk to him yet?

You rolled your eyes after reading the message, your fingers quickly tapped at the screen as you typed your response.

Y/N: No obviously not. Now leave me alone.

Kathy: Girl go for it! He's a nice kid you said so yourself.

Y/N: Uh nope. Much rather stare at him from afar and not make a fool of myself attempting to talk to him.

Kathy: Well if you don't not only will I embarrass you in front of lover boy, everyone in this library will see me screaming at you and we'll both probably get kicked out.

Y/N: Wait what? How do you know I'm at the library?? Are you here right now???

Kathy: Look over at the fantasy section you nerd. You being you I obviously knew where YOU would be on a Saturday afternoon.

You looked up, eyes widening in shock as you saw your friend hiding behind a bookshelf watching you with a sly grin.

Kathy: Make a move now or I'm coming over there.

With already shaking hands you put your phone in your pocket and grabbed your book. You sent Kathy a pleading look, but all she did was shake her head and point towards Ponyboy violently. Taking in a deep breath, you got up. The chair scraped against the floor, creating a loud noise which made at least five people look up at you... including him.

"Oh god." You mumbled under your breath.

In your peripheral vision you could see Ponyboy's gaze return to his book, taking that as your cue to move you slowly crept to his table. You had made it to the chair directly across from him, he was so caught up in his book he didn't even notice your presence. You smiled softly, his eyebrows were furrowed in concentration while his eyes scanned the pages back and forth. You awkwardly cleared your throat, not too loud to disturb others but just enough for him to tear his attention from his book to notice you.

"Oh, hey." Ponyboy said, "Can I help you with somethin'?"

"Um..." Jesus this was going to be way harder than you thought. "W-Would you mind if I sat with ya?"

"Not at all. Go ahead." He sent you a friendly smile as he gestured to the chair you were at.

His smile. Your legs already feel like jello, you could've sworn you were going to collapse right then in there.

"Y/N, right?" He asked as you sat down.

"That's me. And you're Ponyboy."

"Yep, couldn't forget a name like that if you tried." He joked.

You giggled as you opened your book, Ponyboy returned to his. Curiosity got the better of you when you looked back up to see what he was reading.

"Gone With the Wind." You read aloud.

"Have you read it before?" He asked.

You shook your head, "I haven't, but I've heard only good things about it. I saw the movie about a year ago and thought it was great."

"The book is amazing!" He gushed, only to be shushed by the librarian walking by. "This is my fifth time reading it." He told you in a more hushed tone.

You snickered, "Must be really great."

"What ya got there?"

You lifted up your book from the table to reveal the cover to him, his bright eyes scanned the cover.

"The Boy in Striped Pajamas?"

"I know the title seems a bit odd, but trust me this is a good read." You told him, "This being my third time reading it."

"Well what's it about?" He asked.

You went on to tell him about your book, and he went on to tell you all about his. The both of you began to talk about anything and everything, you were beyond happy that things were going well. You were having so much fun you completely forgot about Kathy spying on you, before either of you could realize it two hours had gone by.

You peaked at your phone and cursed under your breath, the lock screen had a reminder that your shift at work was starting in less than thirty minutes.

"I really hate to end this... but I gotta go." You said.

"That sucks." He said disappointedly.

You couldn't help feeling a little giddy inside to see that he was upset you were leaving. While you got up and gathered your things, you remembered that you wanted to get his phone number badly. You just had to figure out a way to get it without making things awkward.

"Hey, Pone?"

He hummed in response.

"What do ya say we swap books... and numbers? Thats only if you want to. I just figured since we read them already and it was cool talk--"

"I'd like that." He stopped your rambling, only to send you a warm smile while doing so.

You blushed as the both of you swapped phones to put in each others information along with handing each other your books. With a final wave goodbye you left the library, your best friend of course followed after you. She interrogated you with thousands of questions and the both of you walked to work, you gladly answered them all in an almost dazed state. You felt as if you were walking on air for the rest of the day, and you couldn't wait to text him later on.

Two weeks had gone by, and let's just say those two weeks have been the best ones of your life. You and Ponyboy had been texting every single day. At first you just talked about each other's books, but then your conversations started evolve to anything and everything. You knew you had liked him before, but your feelings for him have grown drastically. It was beginning to get unbearable holding in how you truly felt, and you weren't sure if you wanted to tell him.

The fear of rejection was one of the main reasons why you've been thinking of just repressing your feelings. Sure, he seemed to like you, but it felt as though he only liked you simply as a friend. Another reason being you were afraid that it would ruin things between the both of you. You had finally become good friends, the last thing you wanted was for everything to end up being awkward all because of you and your silly crush.

After a lot of thinking you decided you needed some advice, and by advice you mean advice thats not only from Kathy. She keeps telling you to go for it, but she doesn't really know Ponyboy well. That's why you got the idea to ask one of his buddies on their opinion. Luckily Pony invited you to watch him and his friends play football. You ceased the opportunity, not only would you be able to watch the boy of your dreams get all sweaty and tuff looking, you could also get one of his friends alone to talk about how you felt.

It was a warm, Sunday morning in Tulsa. The sun was high in the sky and beat down harshly on the group of boys tackling each other in the giant field. You sat under a tree with a notebook in your lap, a cool breeze would rush by every now and then, cooling you off the slightest. You doodled randomness on the blank pages, sketching pictures and honing your writing skills. Every now and then you would glance up and watch the game for a few, sometimes cheering the boys on or laughing when they began to goof off and wrestle each other on the ground.

There was a particular drawing you found yourself enthralled in, as the pencil in your hand smoothly ran across the paper you found yourself sketching a picture of Ponyboy's face. You were so focused you didn't even notice someone come over and take a seat right beside you.

"Nice drawin' you got there." A quiet voice spoke.

You quickly slammed the notebook closed and snapped you head to the right, it was Ponyboy's best friend, Johnny. A tiny smirk was tugging at his lips as he looked at you with one eyebrow raised.

"T-Thanks." You stuttered nervously.

"You like him, huh?" He asked you.

You stood silent as you played with the grass below you, pulling it from the Earth and rubbing it between your fingers. Your gaze was straight ahead watching the game, you were afraid to meet Johnny's gaze that was burning holes into the side of your head.

"Yes..." You hesitated a bit, "I do."

"Does he know?"

"No!" You said hopelessly, "And I'm not sure if I even want him to know."

"Why not?"

"Because he probably doesn't feel the same..." You trailed off.

"Hey now, ya never know." Johnny said.

"What are you two kiddies doin' over here?" A loud voice bellowed.

It was none other than Two-Bit, he staggered over to the both of you before plopping down to your left. He was breathing heavily, sweat dripping down his forehead and trickling down his neck.

"You tryin' to make moves on Pony's girl or somethin', John?" Two asked playfully.

Your heart fluttered, 'Pony's girl.'

"No way, man. Trust me." Johnny chuckled.

"Pony's girl?" You repeated to him questioningly.

"Oh yeah! I see the way y'all look at each other I ain't blind."

You let Two's words sink in, was it that obvious that you liked him? He even said that Pony looks at you a certain way as well. Maybe there was a chance he shared your feelings after all.

"You think he likes me or somethin'?" You asked casually.

"Oh I don't think, I know."

You smiled softly, butterflies erupting in your stomach. In the back of your mind you worried that you were getting your hopes up a little too high, but you couldn't help it.

"I like him too." You admitted.

Two-Bit scoffed, "Tell me somethin' I don't know."

"Well... what should I do?"

"Tell him." Two replied.

"I agree." Johnny piped up.

Both nerves and excitement began to bubble up inside you as you got up and gathered your things.

"Where are you off to?" Johnny asked as you began to jog away from them.

"Gotta head home. Tell Ponyboy I'm sorry I had to leave but I'll text him later!"

"See ya later lover girl!" Two-Bit hollered after you while preceding to make kissing noises.

You laughed to yourself and shook your head, "Idiot."

Y/N: Whats up Pone-bone?

Ponyboy: Nothing much lil lady, and yourself?

Y/N: Same. Btw sorry for leaving so soon today, had some things to do.

Ponyboy: It's alright.

Hey what were you, Johnny and Two talking about? They didn't try to tease you or nothin right?

Y/N: Nooo ofc not they were just chattin

But thats actually what I wanted to talk to you about...

Ponyboy: Well... Go on then

Y/N: Okay I'm just gonna say it

I like you

like a lot

Ponyboy: As a friend or?

Y/N: No silly, like more than friends...

Ponyboy: Wait actually?

Y/N: Yes Pony

Ponyboy: Seriously??

Y/N: OMG YES!!

I LIKE YOU A LOT!

... im sorry if it weirds you out

Ponyboy: NO! NO IT DOESN'T.

SORRY

... Just wanted to make sure this isn't a prank or whatever.

But in all seriousness yes, I like you a whole lot.

Y/N: Are you sure?

Ponyboy: Positive doll

Do you wanna grab some milkshakes at the Dingo next weekend?

Y/N: Are you asking me out onna date Curtis?

Ponyboy: Yes, I am ;)

Y/N: Well I would love to :)

#the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #the outsiders ponyboy #the outsiders imagine #the outsiders fanfiction #the outsiders fic #the outsiders fluff #the outsiders fandom #ponyboy curtis #ponyboy michael curtis #ponyboy x reader #ponyboy curtis x reader #ponyboy curtis imagine #ponyboy curtis fanfiction #ponyboy fic #modern!ponyboy #ponyboy curtis au #c thomas howell

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moostaronce · 3 years

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You’re My Ideal Type

Request: I’m bad at thinking or suggesting scenarios but I really want a fluffy scenario of loona Jinsoul x fem reader if u r ok with it,thanks🥺💙

Pairing: Jinsoul x Fem Reader

A/N: Never a problem, I’ve got you. I hope you like it. Feel free to request more even if you don’t have specifics, it lets me try to be more creative.

P.S I feel like it was a little rushed since I changed my mind the day of upload but I hope you like it because I’m satisfied with the concept as a whole. Also, if you can guess what song inspired this I’ll give you a virtual cookie. 💛

“Hurry up Sol unnie or we’ll be late for practice.” Jungeun called out to her friend.

The two girls along with 4 of their other teammates were going to be late to their volleyball game if they didn’t hurry. They had been caught up talking and walking like turtles when Jungeun noticed the time on her phone. So now here they were running down the hall to their locker room. As soon as they enter, they are met by their coach angrily tapping her foot and their captain Sooyoung shaking her head while pinching the bridge of her nose. They didn’t need words to know they were in trouble. Before they knew it their worst fear came to be reality.

“Jinsol and Jungeun, you’re out for the whole match.” Jinsol’s jaw drops and Jungeun practically chokes on air.

“But coach we’re supposed to start tonight!” Jungeun cried out almost in anguish.

“You should’ve thought of that before you showed up late so now the other six that showed up on time will be starting.” Coach left no room for argument or discussion and just walked away. Sooyoung followed behind her, having nothing more to add herself.

The girls get changed in silence and make their way out to stand on the sidelines. The game begins and things go without a hitch. That is until someone comes off of the other team’s sidelines that Jinsol has never seen before. From the sound of the opposing crowd this girl sounded like bad news for her team for sure. She leans forward to get a good look at the girl’s face and actually gasps when she succeeds.

“Wow. Who is that?” Jinsol doesn’t mean to say it out loud but her teammate Yeojin heard her loud and clear. Yeojin was probably too small to even be on this team but she had hops and strong arms so the coach kept her around.

“Oh that’s Y/N she’s a transfer and apparently she’s become their secret weapon since she showed up. Why?” Yeojin leaned over to the older girl in curiosity.

Jinsol didn’t respond right away. The moment she looked at you she recognized it. You were exactly her ideal type. Her eyes fixed on you and they wouldn’t look any where else. She could’ve been in mortal danger but missing the chance of catching your eye was something she refused to do. The hope that you would look her way just for a moment was intense and as if it was by design, you did. Your eyes scanned the gym like you were looking for something, and in the back of your mind maybe you were. The search comes to an end when you spot her.

The two of you are standing pretty far away but the space between you began to feel unusual. A bizarre kind of feel that can’t quite be named, stirring up electricity between you. Jinsol watches as your lips part and you remember to take a breath before your teammates nudge you to focus. At this moment Jinsol has decided, she needs to talk to you or even just to be in your immediate vicinity. Her eyes didn’t leave you the whole match, even when coach finally had mercy and put her and Jungeun on the court. The match ended with your team winning by a hair and all Jinsol could think about was getting to you before you got on your bus to leave.

“I have to have her.” She muttered it under her breath and Jungeun looked over at her in confusion. The blonde followed the brunette’s eyes until her own landed on you packing up your stuff to leave.

“Who? Number 25?” Jungeun squints at the number on your back but she’s so loud when she asks that you look up and around.

When you look over to the other side of the court you see Jinsol and can’t help the small grin that takes over. You planned to approach her but she comes to you first with a rare kind of confidence you aren’t used to seeing first hand.

“Hi, I’m Jung Jinsol.” Her smile is nervous but bright and it draws you in.

“Y/N, Y/N L/N. It’s nice to meet you Jinsol, that was an impressive match. If you had been in a little longer I think you could’ve killed us.” She smiles sweetly at you and goes against her better judgment. Jinsol touches your arm in as flirty a manner as she can, lingering on the touch to make it clear she was indeed flirting.

“Thanks but with your skills there is no way I could’ve come out on top.”

You glance down to her fingers, daintily tracing your bicep then back up to her ridiculously pretty face. You can’t deny how attracted you are to her and she’s clearly throwing you signals so you decide to ask for her number. Jinsol beats you to it though, she grabs your coach’s sharpie off a discarded clipboard and writes her number on your bare forearm.

“You better call me. I really want to see you again Y/N.”

The look in her eyes shows nothing but hope and sincerity, so you give her your best smile and a kiss on her hand before taking your leave. Neither of you are usually the type to be so forward but there was just something about your chemistry that felt different. Something about each other that made you both a little weak just by meeting the other’s eyes. Jinsol heads to the locker room with a newfound bounce in her step, nothing could possibly ruin her day now. She just hopes you’ll at least text her.

——————-

The next day during lunch period Jinsol is sat with her 11 teammates as usual but she picks over her pizza instead of scarfing it down as usual. At first no one really notices or pays any mind, until she feels someone rubbing comforting circles on her back. When she looks over it’s Kahei giving her a concerned look.

“Are you okay Sol?” At their oldest’s concerned voice, the other members look over to see if everything is okay. Jinsol just shrugs in response. Technically everything is okay but she can’t help feeling disappointed that you haven’t tried contacting her. Jungeun catches on rather quickly and gives her a questioning look.

“25 didn’t text you, huh?” Jungeun patted the older girl on the head after she practically does a faceplant on the table. The others look at each other in confusion.

“25? Who’s 25?” Hyunjin leans on the table with interest.

“Oh! You must be thinking of Y/N unnie. She’s the new member for the team we played last night, Southside.” Yeojin speaks nonchalantly and everyone looks over at her with curiosity, including Jinsol.

“Unnie? You know her Yeojinie?” Heejin speaks up with the question they all wanted to ask.

“Oh yeah, she’s a family friend. Our moms are best friends, so she comes over to my house sometimes. She’s basically my big sister.”

“Oh so I’ve been replaced, huh?” Haseul speaks up in mock offense

“You said your only sibling was a boy so yes, Y/N unnie would never disown me like that.” Yeojin crosses her arms and turns her nose up at Haseul while Jinsol burns a whole in the side of her head with her gaze.

“Yeojin,” the younger girl looks to her nervous from her tone.

“Hook. Us. Up.” She doesn’t break eye contact even when the rest of the table starts smirking at her.

“Oooh Jinsol likes Y/N.” Yerim’s tone is teasing but Jinsol really pays her no mind. All she’s seeing right now is Yeojin and a direct doorway to you.

“But didn’t you already give her your number?” Jungeun chimes in and gets a nod in response.

“I wrote it on her arm.” Jinsol confirms it but becomes nervous at Yeojin’s shake of the head.

“You should’ve put it in her phone. She probably went home and showered it off without thinking about it, so she couldn’t reach you even if she wanted to. Here let me give you her numb- oh.” Yeojin pauses looking at her phone when she sees a text in all caps from you.

Unnie<3: JINNIE DO YOU KNOW A JINSOL ON YOUR TEAM?

YeoYeo: Actually I’m with her right now.

Unnie<3: NUMBER

Unnie<3: NOW

“I think I was right about her losing your number Sol unnie. Here I’ll send you her number and send her your number too. Save it as soon as you get it, okay?” Yeojin speaks while typing away at her phone screen.

Jinsol sits upright waiting for her phone to register Yeojin’s text with a new kind of energy. Not long after she finishes naming you in her phone, does she get a text from you. She looks up at Yeojin and thanks her until the younger girl gets tired of hearing it.

The two of you talk all day through text even transitioning to phone calls over the next few days. Without even realizing Jinsol finds herself wanting to to know every thing about you. What you’re doing, how you’re feeling. The two of you have even set up little training dates together and practice. One by one, little by little, day by day her feelings grow for you more and more until she decides she’s waited long enough.

You are on a walk holding her hand when Jinsol stops you in your tracks. She gets nervous under your curious gaze but she convinces herself that it’s now or never. The warm smile you give her only further assures her that this was the right move. You had to feel the same, right? Would you really be here with her smiling at her like this, looking at her like this, holding her hand like this if you weren’t the least bit interested? Surely not.

“What’s on your mind Sol?”

“Just…Y/N would you like to go out with me? Like actually date me?” She’s worried by the dumbstruck look on your face and the way you awkwardly release her hand to rub the back of your neck. Then you open your mouth and her jaw drops.

“Oh I um… I kind of thought we were dating already?” The sheepish look on you made her want to coo at you but she was lost for words.

“I mean I guess I should have said so but I mean think about it Jinsol. All my free time is yours, I practically hang off of your every word like I’m out of my mind. Any where you go I wanna follow and I pretty much do, I figured it was pretty clear that I thought we were in a relationship.”

You can’t seem to make eye contact with her and Jinsol can’t believe you get cuter by the minute. She tries to meet your eyes but you keep looking the other way. Her hands reach up to hold your face affectionately and make you look at her her. Now is when you both start to realize just how close she’s gotten and this close you can really see just how pretty her brown eyes are. Jinsol smiles at you sweetly and gives you a small peck on your lips, shocking you stiff.

“From now it’s day one, okay?” Her smile infectious and you return it tenfold.

“Okay.”

#Girl group scenarios #Loona scenarios #Loona fluff #Jinsoul scenarios #Jinsol scenarios #Jung Jinsoul scenarios #Jung Jinsol scenarios #MooStarOnce

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percabethfeelsfandom · 3 years

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Writing Prompt: Home

Percy stood by the bulletin board in the Big House, fingers tracing the edge of a photo of him, Annabeth and Grover. His sixteen-year-old face smiling widely at him with his arms thrown around Annabeth and Grover’s shoulders.

Seven years later, Percy still remembered taking the photo. The day before he was set to go back to Goode, his first time going to the same school two years in a row. The happiness that was in their features hadn’t lasted long. But it was nice that this moment was immortalised.

“Feeling nostalgic?”

Percy found a smile rising to his face as he saw Chiron duck his head to avoid hitting the doorframe, joining Percy to look at the other photos of campers that had accumulated over the years. Faces that Percy had grown up with, and new ones.

“Can’t help it. Every time I come here...it’s like travelling back in time.”

Percy removed his hand from the photo and let it drop to his side. Chiron gave him a small smile and looked fondly at the collage of photos. In the corner there was even a faded photograph of Chiron smiling smugly while Mr D held a goblet disapprovingly.

“Does it feel different coming back?” Chiron asked. Percy stepped away from the photos and went to stand in front of the window glancing out to look at the fields outside.

“Yeah. In a good way, but…” Percy sighed and ran a hand through his hair, trying to flatten it, “I feel bad I guess. That I left. This was home for so long.” His fingers itched to move so he brought them to the necklace that still hung around his neck. All the years later he still tried to wear it every day, even sometimes underneath his work clothes. The beads had a permanent place around his place and sat perfectly in the hollow of his throat, a constant familiar presence.

“You didn’t leave, Percy,” he reassured. Percy thumbed his first camp bead, staring at the glowing trident.

“Didn’t I?”

“No. You deserve a life outside of here. It’s because of you that you have a world to go to, you deserve a chance to live in it. It’d be foolish of you not to.”

“You make it sound like I did it alone,” he gestured to the photo collage, “Each of those people played a part. Every person that steps foot into camp played a part in that. They deserve to be out there too.”

“When they know what they’re up against then they can. Until then I will train them.”

“Don’t you ever wish we could do more?”

“Every day.”

“I feel like I ran away from the fight.”

“Every hero yields in the end. And yielding is not always a bad thing.”

“So why does it feel like it?”

“Why are you so full of doubt? You seemed so sure, so happy with your decision before.” Percy thought back to when he had finally managed to graduate high school, and made the final decision to go to college and move away from New York. The sharp pain that had settled in his chest when he had watched Camp grow smaller and smaller the further they went. The pain hadn’t eased till Annabeth had gripped his hand, reassuring him that they’d be back. That this wasn’t forever.

Percy sighed deeply and reached into his pocket to press his fingers against Riptide for comfort.

“Things have changed. And I guess- I’m scared,” Percy let out a choked laugh. Things had definitely changed if he was able to admit he was scared.

“Is everything okay?”

“Annabeth’s pregnant.”

Chiron’s eyes widened before his face broke out into a smile.

“Congratulations!” He reached down and patted Percy on the shoulder. But Percy didn’t mirror his smile. Slowly Chiron retracted his hand and gave him a questioning look.

“Are you not happy?”

Percy rushed to correct him, shaking his head wildly.

“Oh gods, I’m ecstatic, don’t get me wrong. But...Annabeth and I always said we wouldn’t have kids unless we were positive we’d be bringing them into a safe world...and now that we are- I don’t know if it’ll ever be safe. Like we’re demigods for Hades’ sake.”

“Is that why you came back?” Percy nodded.

“I don’t know anywhere safer than here. It’s like I never want to let her out of my sight.” Almost to prove his point Percy looked out to the fields again, trying to get a glimpse of Annabeth who was at her cabin, catching up with family members and any of the campers they had once trained with. Though he knew exactly where she was, Percy could feel the edge of anxiety heightening his senses, hyper-aware of any possible dangers.

“And I guess, I wanted advice. I know you don’t have kids of your own, but, you have this camp. When I wasn’t with my Mom and Dad, I had you. I already asked my Mom how she did it; how she lived with the fear of having a child in our world.”

“What did she say?”

“She said she loved me too much to ever feel scared.”

“That’s all a parent can do Percy.”

“That’s not very helpful,” he huffed. Chiron laughed and gestured to the doorway, leading the two of them out of the Big House and to the centre of camp where the cabins were.

“You asked me if I wished we could do more, to help them,” he nodded in the direction of campers in their orange shirts, playing volleyball, their laughter drifting in the wind. “Each day, for the years I have been alive, I give them my knowledge about protecting themselves, I teach them our history so that they may one day learn from our mistakes. I love them and watch them grow. Sometimes they leave and sometimes they use the knowledge I’ve passed on and they create a life of their own, and save the world along the way. Sometimes they come back. Sometimes what I’ve taught them isn’t enough...and they don’t. It’s an endless cycle when you think of it, this role I chose. But what more can I do when I have dedicated my life to this. The world still needs heroes, and as long as those heroes need guidance I will give it to them. What more can I do when I’ve given them a chance?”

“You were raised by a brilliant woman, Perseus, she gave you the best chance she could by loving you. The best you can do for your own child is the exact same. And with Annabeth by your side, I have no doubt you’ll achieve that.”

“Did you have a good talk with Chiron?” Annabeth asked as she pulled the blanket over her legs. Percy helped her adjust the sheets, tucking her in and sitting next to her. They’d been given the Poseidon cabin to stay at for the meantime; Percy’s two half-siblings on a quest together.

Though they visited every summer, being back in his old cabin, even in his old bed, was giving Percy an odd sense of deja vu.

Percy nodded, but his attention was elsewhere, noting all the new scratches and the weapons hung on the wall that didn’t belong to him. His heart went out to his siblings, the call for a quest, taunting him after so many years of him wishing it would be someone else when he was younger.

“Seaweed Brain?” Annabeth said softly. Percy turned to her fully and shook his head, trying to clear it with thoughts. Annabeth’s face was etched with concern, and Percy placed his hands over hers, which laid over her stomach that was starting to show.

“I’m okay.”

“It’s weird, isn’t it? Coming back after all this time,” she said looking around the cabin as well. Percy nodded again, readjusting himself in the bed so he could hold her closer.

“We visit every summer though,” he pointed out, but Annabeth shook her head and then leaned against his shoulder.

“It’s different, we’ll be here for a while, we don’t need to leave at the end. We don’t need to always look behind our shoulders, at least not for now. It’s nice.”

“Chiron said something today...I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”

“Hmm?” Idly, Percy traced circles on her shoulder as he brought his arms around her.

“Something about giving heroes a chance, that’s what it all comes down to. Doesn’t it? No matter how good you are, powers, training, knowledge, all of that goes out the door, because it’s up to the Fates isn’t it?” Annabeth sat up straighter turning to him.

“I like to think we play a part in it as well, just because the Fates have a say, doesn’t mean all choices are taken away from us. We chose to leave camp. And I don’t regret that.” She said firmly.

“How’d you know I was thinking about that?”

“Because I know you, Perseus Jackson.”

“No matter what the Fates have in store for us, Percy, I’m willing to go through it. If it means I’m by your side. I know we didn’t want to come back to Camp, but is it so bad when it ensures our safety? This was our home growing up. It’ll be a great place for our child to grow up, then we can leave when it’s safe again.”

“We left because we thought we’d be safe. Now I’m wondering if we should’ve stayed so that we could’ve avoided coming back...does that make sense?”

“Perce.”

“Yeah yeah. I know. I’m not upset about being here exactly. But after everything, I just thought we’d done enough for the Fates to believe we could get a break from this world. Let us live in ignorance for a bit. It’s selfish but maybe we deserve to be a bit selfish?”

“I know.” She leaned forward and pressed her forehead against Percy’s, closing her eyes.

She pulled back and pressed a kiss to his cheek before laying down, signalling that she was finished with this conversation. The pregnancy was constantly leaving her tired, and even now, Percy could see the purple beneath her eyes despite the excessive amount of hours she was sleeping. Carrying a demigod child was taking a toll on her, and it was slowly killing Percy. He made sure he tucked her in tightly before leaving his cabin and making the familiar trek to the water where his thoughts finally began to calm.

He looked out into the deep blue of the night, and the seemingly bottomless ocean.

“I know you’re listening, Father...I don’t think I want to talk. But if you could listen? I think I just need that,” Percy paused, waiting for a reaction. When he didn’t get one, he eased himself onto the sand and rolled up his pants so that he could dip his feet into the low tide.

“After the war, it was so hard for me to leave camp. Especially after Gaea took me. I felt that every time I left I’d come back and see my home in ruins. Everything I’ve done since I found out I was your child has been to preserve this Camp. It means more to me than a location probably should, but it was always there for me to come back to. But after Jason, I needed to leave. I was so tired of coming back to a camp and seeing one less face. I know it wasn’t my fault, but it felt like I was being taunted, that I couldn’t save him...because I was somewhere else. Leaving after college was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. And now coming back, I’m scared that once I leave something bad is going to happen again. It’s not just Annabeth on the line anymore, I could risk it with her because she can protect herself but if our child is at risk? What do I do then?” The words were rushing out of Percy like a dam breaking, and he was stumbling and gasping over his words as tears welled up inside his chest, demanding to be released.

“Coming back means leaving. And I don’t think my heart can take it.”

There was a soft breeze and Percy felt the water at his feet grow colder. He looked up from where he had buried his face in his arms.

“You cannot let fear rule your life. Or you will forget to live.”

Percy scoffed at his Father and shook his head, not bothering to stand up. Other gods would have been offended, but Poseidon looked down sympathetically at Percy and sat down, lowering himself to Percy’s level.

“Let me rephrase that. Fear will always be a part of your life, it will always be there because you are my son and Annabeth is Athena’s daughter, you are Heroes of Olympus, and with that title, someone or something will always be hateful-”

“Is this meant to make me feel better?” Poseidon let out a chuckle and Percy rolled his eyes.

“Let me finish. Fear will always exist. But there are things that are more powerful than that. Think of your mother, her fear of Gabe, and her fear of monsters finding you when you were young...neither ever stopped her loving you, it made her fight harder to protect you. Your own fear of your prophecy didn’t stop you from fulfilling it, because you cared too much for your city and your friends. My own fear of my brother when you were accused of stealing the bolt didn’t stop me from claiming you. The same applies here. Your fear of coming back and leaving Camp Half Blood doesn’t make it any less your home. It will always protect you.”

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etherealvibespls · 3 years

Text

till the stars fall out of the sky

Hi. It's been almost two years but I hope you enjoy this short + messy krii7y piece :)

The thing about it being the end of the world is how little time there is to prepare. No matter how many people seem ready with their canned foods and underground bunkers, or even the discarded pamphlets scattered throughout the streets filled with government advice as if, maybe, those in power had an idea of what was to come, no one is actually prepared for what they’re faced with; the end of everything.

And it’s terrifying.

Smitty had so many plans. A few weeks ago those plans held some dread, had his heart skipping at just the mere idea of change, and yet now his heart only aches.

In front of him the website mocks him. The screen is dim to preserve the little battery he has left in his laptop, but the floor plan of the apartment is still too bright, painting a pointless fantasy for his eyes to gaze longingly at.

He should have moved by now, but his fear kept him back. Rooted him in what he’s familiar with.

Now it’s too late.

A quiet ding snaps him out of his haze and the second his eyes settle on the notification the knot in his chest loosens, smoothed out by the person miles and miles away.

John (10:02): so it turns out the world really is ending

Smitty snorts. To his embarrassment, there’s already a smile stretching across his face.

Smitty (10:03): you’re just now realizing?

John (10:03): i mean can you blame me? how was i supposed to know all those youtube videos were real? but today i actually left the house for the first time in like, two weeks and it looks like i’m in hell

John (10:04): at first i thought i was dead because what the fuck, right? the sky is fucking red, but then i saw someone walking their dog as if it were normal so now i’m assuming this is what everyone’s been talking about

Smitty (10:04): have i ever told you i hate you

John (10:05): uh hello? what the fuck

Smitty (10:05): i’ve been stressed out of my fucking mind and you’ve been clueless this entire time?? go fuck yourself john. like actually take that dildo you thought i forgot about and fuck. off.

John (10:06): HELLO ? you said you’d never bring that up

Smitty (10:07): the world is ending dickhead. i’m allowed to embarrass you one last time

Smitty bites at the inside of his cheek, suppressing the urge to laugh as he waits for his friend’s response. It takes longer for John to reply this time but he’s probably writing a paragraph that makes absolutely no sense and only serves to insult Smitty whichever way he can.

After a quiet minute, John finally responds.

John (10:08): don’t say that

Smitty blinks, not expecting such a short reply.

Smitty (10:08): don’t say what?

Half of him is still expecting this to lead into a snarky remark and he prepares for John’s little ha-ha, got you, but by John’s next message, it’s clear he’s no longer joking.

In an instant, the mood has not only shifted into something serious, but into pure heartbreak as well.

John (10:09): “one last time”

John (10:09): it makes it sound like you’ve already lost hope

Smitty (10:09): john…there’s nothing left for us. they’ve done all they can but there’s no fixing something so completely destroyed, and at some point you just have to accept that it’s over

John (10:10): this isn’t the end

A pause.

John (10:10): i still haven’t met you yet

Smitty releases a long, shaky breath. He’s tried so hard to not think of the mistake he made those weeks ago, yet it seems like there’s always something to remind him of it.

It’s possible John isn’t even mentioning it now, but Smitty is so consumed by guilt that his mind wanders there regardless. The end of the world hanging over everyone’s head has only made it worse, dug it up again and shoved it into his every waking thought, constantly reminding him of what could’ve been.

Mocking the opportunity he ruined.

Smitty (10:12): i’m sorry. i should be there.

John (10:12): you don’t have to keep apologizing, smit. you had your reasons

Smitty shakes his head in disbelief at the message, biting down hard on his lip the moment his eyes begin to burn, blinking back unshed tears.

He hates how nice John is. How even as they face down their last days on earth there isn’t a part of him that’s angry, or at the very least, disappointed.

Smitty (10:13): my reasons were selfish and stupid and it’s because of them that we have to message each other as the world literally crumbles around us

John (10:14): being alone does suck, and it would’ve been nice to have some company, but i still don’t blame you

It probably isn’t supposed to come across as tragic as it does, but Smitty’s shoulders sag with grief anyway.

Briefly his eyes flick over to the corner of his laptop, locking onto the battery life. His heart twists painfully, constricting tight as it flashes, down to its remaining minutes of life.

John (10:16): you know...i still look at it sometimes

John (10:16): it probably sounds so lame but sometimes i imagine how it would’ve been. i’m not a morning person but i think you could’ve made me one, and you hate staying up late but i think i could’ve shown you why sometimes i never fall asleep

John (10:17): i even imagine how it would’ve been decorated. like, from the pictures you’ve sent me of your place it looks so plain and i think about all the trips we’d have to go on before we could agree on some simple shit just for the living room. but i wouldn’t want you to feel bad about your taste or anything so i’d probably let you pick out a bunch of things anyway

Smitty presses his face into his shoulder for just a moment, overcome by so many emotions. A part of him can guess where this is going and his chest nearly caves in at the thought, knows why it’s happening now, of all times.

Smitty (10:19): ... i look at it everyday, imagining the same

Smitty (10:19): i was looking at it before you messaged earlier...can you believe it’s still available? how has no one else wanted it?

John (10:20): because it was always meant to be ours

Ours.

His gaze drifts back to the floor plan still on the screen, and not for the last time, he yearns. He thinks even after everything is said and done, his longing will ripple through the endless void of space.

Thinks heartache as great as his can never die, instead linger like a mournful ghost that will haunt even the brightest stars.

Smitty (10:21): i’m sorry i ruined it

John (10:22): i’m sorry i didn’t try harder

Smitty (10:22): john, none of this is your fault. it was my idea and i couldn’t even go through with it

Smitty (10:23): we had so many plans and i shattered them all because i was too scared to leave

John (10:24): but i wanted it more than i ever admitted, and instead of fighting to get you here i didn’t say anything

Smitty (10:24): i wanted this to happen more than you think, believe me. but we know how my thoughts can get, so i don’t think there was anything you could’ve said that would’ve change my mind

John (10:25): what about i love you?

Smitty startles, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t expect this. His stomach still does a silly little swoop, the butterflies that are always present when he talks with John suddenly coming to life, fluttering rapidly.

Smitty (10:25): john?

John (10:26): if the world is going to end no matter what, then fuck it right? i’ve been keeping my mouth shut for over two years and even if now is probably the worst time because i can’t see your face and my laptop is about to die, i can’t go out without telling you i’ve been in love with you for half the time i’ve known you

John (10:27): and the time before that i really, really, really liked you

Smitty chokes on his tears, stopped caring about holding them back the second he saw i love you.

Smitty (10:27): me too

Smitty (10:27): i think i’ve been in love with you since you first messaged me that stupid one-liner about artists

John (10:28): oh god, i forgot that was the first thing i sent you

John (10:28): in my defense i was extremely bored and your page was filled with memes, i thought you would’ve enjoyed it

Smitty (10:29): i fucking loved it

John (10:30): i regretted it the moment you sent me a pic of yourself for the first time, though

Smitty (10:30): what? why?

John (10:31): because you were prettiest person i’d ever seen and i hated that the first message i sent you was about dicks

Smitty laughs, the sound croaky and awful and usually he’d be embarrassed about the noise but he sits alone in his living room, completely consumed by the messages and the guy sending them.

Smitty (10:32): who would’ve known that would be the way into my heart

John (10:32): after about a week of talking to you i knew

John (10:33): i think that’s when i started falling in love

Smitty (10:33) god, i hate that we’re saying this now. i wish both of us said something sooner

John (10:34): yeah...it would’ve been nice to finally hold you, but i’m happy you finally know

John (10:34): and no matter what happens from now till...the end, i want you to know i love you

John (10:35): i always have, and i always will

i love you-

The screen flickers once before it fades to black, the battery completely drained. Smitty’s fingers hover over the keyboard, his pinky so close to hitting ‘enter’.

It takes longer than it should to register in his brain, and for a few minutes Smitty sits and stares at the screen. He blinks rapidly through his tears, can still see i love you every time he blinks but his heart beats wildly, aware of the inky darkness surrounding him and the deafening silence, no longer interrupted by the quiet dings of messages.

Like a dam finally unleashed, his tears fall at once and a sob racks through his body, forcefully pushed out of his quivering mouth. With his legs curled to his chest and his face buried in his bony knees, he cries out in anguish, fingers clutching his sweatpants like a lifeline.

He doesn’t move, stays curled in the corner of his couch long enough to see the last bits of sunrise fall over his furniture, and stays even longer to hear the shouts of panic outside his front door, aware but uncaring, of everything ending around him.

--------

Based off the prompt: “So the sky is still raining fire and meteors, and my laptop is running low on battery, but I wanted to say that I like you, a lot. Even though we haven’t ever talked in real life, if this is the end of the world then I’m really happy that I got to meet you.”

#krii7y #i was going through my old documents of fic ideas and prompts #and came across this one #and for some reason i couldn't stop thinking about krii7y #so even though i'm not really in this fandom anymore #and i haven't written a krii7y fic in actual years #i couldn't resist #this is also my first time writing angst in many #many years #idk what was going through my head #sorry #i don't think it was too bad though since it was pretty messy #but that's what happens when you don't write in forever #anyways #if you read the story #and you're reading these tags #i hope you enjoyed the story #writings

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whumpingcrow · 3 years

Text

Pt. 1 "First Impressions" (Elias Intro)

CW: foster care mention, tourettes syndrome, ticcing, drug mention, food mention, conversation about abuse, hospital setting, injury mention, discussion of poisoned food, vomit mention (let me know if i missed anything!)

Elias was nothing special, really, not in his eyes. He was taken from his deadbeat parents when he was 11, he was tossed around from foster homes to group homes and back again for an exhausting seven years, he didn’t finish high school. The most interesting thing about him was his tourettes, but even that was embarrassing and shameful, another reason to be ignored. Truth was, he was swept under the rug and forgotten for his whole life, so no one, including himself, thought he would ever amount to much, or thought he was worthy of nice things. People like him didn’t just get nice things, unless they were very lucky, and Elias had found out time after disappointing time that he was not one of the fortunate ones.

But Tyson sure as hell made him feel like he could be.

It was amusing to Elias how they met, even though Tyson claimed he wished it would’ve been more pleasant. Tyson had yet to learn that Elias repelled pleasantries. Elias had been staying with a few people he knew from high school, before he dropped out, in their cramped apartment, working part time at a diner so he could try and move out and be on his own. He was so tired of sharing small spaces with people. He would walk home from work everyday, because of course he couldn’t afford a car or even a bike. On that particular night, it was dark and raining, and Elias was in a particular rush to get to the apartment and change out of his wet clothes. Which is why he tried to rush across the street where there wasn’t a crosswalk, unaware of the fast car turning the corner until he heard the screech of tires next to him.

The man that got out of the car looked just as scared as Elias felt, rushing towards him in a flurry of apologies. “I am so sorry! Are you ok? Are you hurt?” His voice was shaking, and it made Elias uneasy, he didn’t look like he would scare easily, with his strong build and his mature face.

Elias scowled at him, shaking his head. “You shouldn’t drive so fast on this road, dickbag,” he scolded, “you could’ve fucking killed me!”

The man looked surprised, like he wasn’t expecting someone of Elias’s stature to have such a foul mouth. “I...I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you crossing and I...Where are you headed? Let me give you a ride.”

“What?” He squeaked in response. Logically, he knew it was his fault anyway, he wasn’t supposed to cross there, it was dark and rainy and not this stranger's fault, he was just quick to anger and too afraid to admit when he was in the wrong. “GIve me a ride?”

“Please, it’s the very least I can do. I feel awful.”

Elias knew that he shouldn’t get into a stranger's car, that it might be dangerous, that this man's kindness could be some sort of sinister facade. But he seemed so genuine, so concerned. So he slowly nodded, ducking into the passengers side door carefully. It was better than walking home in the rain. “My name’s Elias.” He heard himself saying.

“Elias,” the man repeated, “I’m Tyson.”

That was over a month ago, and the two were much more than strangers who almost had a horrible accident, by now. As Tyson was driving him home, they were talking about surface level things to fill the awkward spaces, and Tyson mentioned his ex-boyfriend, at which Elias mentioned his ex-boyfriend, and when they got to his apartment, Tyson asked for his number. They’d gotten much closer since then, Elias even stayed over at Tyson’s apartment a few days a week.

Tyson was so down to earth, so kind and forgiving and patient. He smoked weed, but he never pressured Elias into it, like other people had in the past. He was a nurse at a behavioral health hospital, he only worked nights, so they typically spent all day together. Elias was so enthralled by him and everything he did, often he would sit with Tyson as he drew sloppy, drug hazed sketches, or talk with him about the way the world worked, or things of that nature. The best part about being with Tyson was that he never felt forgotten or ignored, and he rather enjoyed the new attention. He enjoyed feeling cared about, important.

Sometimes Elias would stay at Tyson’s apartment when Tyson went to work, sleeping in his bed and waiting for him to come home in the morning. Tyson came home and crawled under the covers to catch up on sleep he’d missed at work, and after a while of holding each other while they slept, Elias got up to cook breakfast. He wasn’t a great cook, per say, but he could fry an egg alright, and maybe whip up some french toast on a good day. Today was apparently not one of the better ones, and the burnt food ended up in the trash, leaving him with scrambled eggs in the bottom of the pan. It wasn’t spectacular, but it would have to do.

“Good morning,” he called to Tyson as he came into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He always looked so nice upon waking up, his hair messy and how the late morning sun hit his beautiful dark skin as he stretched. “I made eggs. Not sure how safe they are to eat, though.”

Tyson offered a weak smile, but didn’t seem too amused at the joke. Elias wondered if he’d done something wrong, Tyson was usually so light-hearted.

“I need to talk to you about something, Eli.” He grumbled. Elias quite liked that nickname, but not when the rest of the sentence sounded so heavy. “Can we sit for a second?”

Once they were at the table, Elias took a deep breath, ready to put his defenses up, ready to be angry instead of hurt. He found himself thinking over the last few days, had he said something wrong? Was he annoying him? Overstaying his welcome at his apartment? “You’re tired of me, aren’t you?” He asked.

“No! Oh God, Eli, no!” He reached forward to take his hand as he spoke, smiling at him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out. You’re fine, we’re fine. This is about...well, it’s about my ex.”

Elias relaxed a fraction at the reassurance, so he was fine, Tyson wasn’t sick of him. Then he nodded for him to go on, listening carefully. Tyson didn’t talk about him much, but Elias knew that his name was Allen, that he had a lot of issues that were never really discussed in detail.

“You know how I told you that he had a lot going on? That he was sort of...a mess?” He paused, taking a deep breath to organize his thoughts. “Well, a while ago, he got mixed up with these really bad people, it wasn’t his fault, it should’ve never happened, and he got really hurt.” Tyson sounded nervous, and Elias squeezed his hand gently to comfort him. “Anyway, this guy he was with really hurt him, for a really long time. His name is August. I mean, this guy was a monster, he ruined his life.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” Elias asked. The subject seemed to make both of them uneasy, and he stroked his thumb mindlessly against Tyson’s knuckles.

Tyson took a deep breath then, looking like he didn’t want to answer. “Well...He got hurt again, he’s at the hospital. I guess he didn’t want to call his boyfriend so they called me instead. I have to go pick him up. And I wanted you to come with me, if you’re comfortable with that.”

Elias didn’t know why he agreed to it, really, he just knew that within an hour he was walking down the cold, sterile, hallway of a hospital, hand in hand with an obviously nervous Tyson. He wasn’t really sure what to expect, having heard very few things about Allen in the past. Allen didn’t have his shit together, Tyson had told him, so as much as they had tried to work through things, it just wasn’t possible. From what he gathered, Tyson cared a lot about this guy, even if it wasn’t in that way anymore, and he believed him. Allen had someone else anyway, so he didn’t have anything to worry about. At least he hoped he didn’t.

Elias was shocked at how horrible Allen looked, like he was seconds from keeling over right there on the hospital bed. He was bruised up every few inches from head to toe, a sick pallor to him. Tyson wasn’t lying when he’d said that the person, August, had really hurt him.

Tyson rapped gently against the door frame, causing Allen to squint up at them with a pained look on his face. His black hair fell against his jaw and a few strands over his face, like he couldn’t be bothered to push it away from his eyes. He would be very attractive, if not for the splotchy bruises on his face, Elias thought to himself. His features were striking, all sharp angles and piercing eyes, his full lips parted slightly in fear.

“Oh, Allen.” Tyson breathed, his voice disdainful, upset at the state he was in. Recognition finally fell across his face, as if he couldn’t see who it was before he spoke.

“Tyson,” he whimpered, “you ca-came.” Relief coated his words, like he was expecting Tyson to say he didn’t want to come help him. Elias knew Tyson, knew the selfless way he cared for people, and if that’s what Allen was expecting, it was completely unrealistic.

“Of course.” Tyson reached to the side and flipped on one of the lights, which made Allen flinch horribly and squeeze his eyes shut for a moment. Elias was watching on with a pitiful interest, he had never seen someone so hurt, so scared. This August guy must’ve really done a number on him.

Elias followed close behind Tyson as he went to pull up a chair next to the bed, and Allen stared at him apprehensively. As if just remembering he was there, Tyson reached for his hand again as they sat down. “I forgot to introduce you, this is my boyfriend, Elias.” He shot him a fond look, and Elias smiled brightly back. He liked the sound of that, “his boyfriend”.

“Nice to finally meet you,” he spoke softly, trying not to startle him, “I’ve heard quite a bit about you. All good things.”

Allen nodded, dropping his head to look at the blanket and picking at a loose thread there. “Nice t-to meet you, too,” he stammered. “Ty, you didn’t uh...tell Leo, right? That I was here?”

“No,” Tyson assured him. “Did you want me to?” He sounded so comforting, so kind, just like he always did.

“No, I do-don’t think I’m ready to see him.”

They fell into a heavy silence after that, no one knowing what the right thing to say was. Eventually, Allen began to ask questions about their relationship, trying to get them to talk about themselves so he didn’t feel the attention on him. It worked for a while, up until Tyson had to excuse himself to the bathroom, and then Allen looked even more frightened as he realized he would be alone with Elias, a perfect stranger.

Elias ran through ways in his head of how to make Allen know that he meant no harm, that he wasn’t going to hurt him. Before he could think about it, he blurted, “I hope you don’t still like him.” He felt bad as soon as he said it, Allen was sitting in a hospital bed, covered in aches and pains, the last thing he needed was for Elias to interrogate him in his insecurity. He was surprised when Allen let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head.

“Who, Tyson?” He replied. Elias nodded half-heartedly. “No, I haven’t for awhile. D-don’t worry.”

Elias relaxed, leaning forward in his chair. “Ok, cause I really like him.” He bit his lip, a thoughtful look on his face. “He really cares about you. Maybe not in that way, but he really does. And that’s ok, cause you look like you could use someone who cares about you.”

Allen’s face softened, and he seemed to deflate from his afraid, panicked demeanor, at least a little. “I could. Th-thank you.”

Just then, Tyson walked in, smiling softly at the two of them. “Are you talking about me?” He teased, ruffling Elias’s blond hair as he walked past him to sit down.

“Us? Oh no, we were talking about football.” Elias joked. Tyson laughed, but Allen couldn’t even smile. He seemed glad for the company, but he didn’t look like he was used to being talked to, included in conversation.

“So, if you’re not staying with Leo right now, do you have somewhere to stay?” Tyson asked. Allen didn’t answer, didn’t even look up. He seemed like he was checked out, his thoughts somewhere else, very far from the safety of the hospital room. “Allen?”

Allen flinched at his own name, then looked up at him. “Sorry...what?”

“I said do you have a place to stay?”

Allen looked thoughtful, staring back at the wall. “Oh. Uh...I hadn’t thought about it, really. I g-guess once I start talking to Leo again...if he’ll even want to talk to me again…”

“Maybe you could stay with us,” he interrupted, already seeing where the anxious thought was headed, “Would that be ok, Eli?”

Elias nodded eagerly. He didn’t even realize that they were “us” at that point, as far as living together. It was nice to hear him phrase it that way. And he could tell from looking at Allen that he really needed a safe place to stay, and Tyson could definitely provide that.

Allen thanked them, then went quiet again. After a few moments, he sighed heavily, like simply existing was extremely taxing on his well being. “I always feel so l-lost without him.” He admitted. “I know I shouldn’t, b-but I just feel like I’m doing everything wrong and just d-don’t know.”

Elias assumed he was talking about August, and he felt bad. He couldn’t imagine how shitty it must feel to miss someone who had caused so much pain, damaged him so badly. Elias had been hurt and betrayed by people who were supposed to take care of him plenty of times, but he’d never missed them after, only looking back with resentment and anger.

“Yeah,” Tyson breathed. “I know it’s really rough on you. He really messed up your view of good and bad. But you’re doing great, someone will tell you if something isn’t ok, you’re not gonna be in trouble or anything.”

It was amazing, how Tyson could talk someone out of their panic so easily, how he seemed to know just what to say to assure them. Allen merely shrugged, clearly not as amazed as Elias was. “Leo probably hates me. I’m so afraid to call him.”

“We’ll figure that out when we get back. I’m sure he doesn’t, he’s probably just worried sick. You’ve got a tendency to do that to him.” He smiled softly at him, trying to get him to relax. It didn’t work.

Allen only had to be in the hospital for about an hour and a half after that, and then Tyson drove him and Elias back to his apartment. Elias glanced back at him every now and then, frowning when he saw he had pulled his hood over his eyes and was covering his ears with his hands. He turned the music down, thinking that maybe it was too loud, but Allen stayed tucked away into his little shell the rest of the ride back.

Finally, he was sitting at the kitchen table with his hands folded in front of him obediently as Tyson cooked them lunch. Elias came and sat with him at one point, smiling at him. “I really like your hair,” he said, “really suits your face.” He hoped that if he was nice enough, Allen would stop being so afraid and get comfortable. It was sad to see him looking so worried.

“Thank you.” Allen replied, almost mechanically.

Tyson joined them minutes later, setting a plate in front of Allen, who began staring at it trivially.

“What, you don’t like it?” Tyson teased. Even though he knew he was trying to ask it in a joking way so he wouldn’t freak Allen out, Elias could tell he was genuinely concerned. He hoped Allen knew that too.

Allen only frowned up at him, like he was too afraid to speak. He was so god damn quiet, Elias gathered. He didn’t know how, because Elias had been through his fair share of hard times and they all made him loud and pissed off. He couldn’t think of a single time that someone had treated him like garbage and he decided he would be quiet. He couldn’t tell if that signified that what happened to Allen was more dreadful than he could guess, or if they just handled things differently. He hopped, for Allen’s sake, that it was the ladder.

“N-no..I just uh...just…” he trailed off, picking up his fork with shaking hands. He looked like he was going to be sick, staring at the food. Elias tasted it, out of curiosity, but it was just fine.

“You just what?” Tyson prompted.

Allen had tears in his eyes as he stabbed through the food, staring at it in fear, like it was going to hurt him itself. For a moment, he looked like he was going to try to eat it, but then he dropped the fork to the plate with a clink and covered his face. “I’m s-sorry,” he choked out, “I really am.”

“Hey, it’s ok. Why don't you tell me what’s going on? We’ll figure it out.”

“J-just...last time someone gave me f-food, it was August, and he put something in it th-that made me sick for days... I just can’t stop thinking about that.”

Tyson and Elias exchanged a disgusted frown, not wanting to believe that someone would do that. “What a dick,” Elias remarked, “seriously, who the fuck does that?”

Allen shook his head, wiping at his tears furiously. “No, he only did it because I was doing something wrong. I d-deserved it.”

“Don’t say that. You did nothing wrong, Allen.”

He nodded at that, shutting himself up. Elias suddenly wasn’t hungry. None of them were.

“I think I need to call Leo,” Allen suddenly said, standing from the table. He grabbed his phone, then went outside.

Elias stood up and began helping Tyson clean up the untouched food from the table. He wondered if what he said upset Allen, that’s why he suddenly wanted to leave. It was true though, August was a dick for it, and there was nothing Allen could have done to warrant that kind of treatment. “Did I upset him?” Elias asked Tyson, a worried look on his face. “I didn’t mean to-”

“No, love, it’s not your fault. He’s just fragile right now.” He sighed heavily as he set the plates into the sink, looking rather overwhelmed. “I know this is a lot to handle, thank you for being so cool about it.”

Before he could respond, Allen came back in, tears streaming down his face. “Leo’s coming to g-get me,” he murmured, leaning against the wall as if it was too hard to stand upright on his own, “thank you f-for everything.”

Tyson nodded at him, a look of relief slipping onto his face. “Oh, that’s good. How did talking to him go?”

Allen shrugged uselessly, not wanting to go into depth. He seemed exhausted, and no one could blame him, with what he’d been through. Tyson offered to walk him outside to meet Leo, and Elias sat inside by himself while he waited. He thought about how strange of a circumstance it was, usually when people met their partners ex, things were tense and awkward, but meeting Allen wasn’t like how he’d expect, he wasn’t jealous or insecure, he mainly just felt bad for the guy.

When Tyson came back inside, it was like they were both too afraid to talk about what happened, so they just turned on a movie instead, leaning against each other and pretending there was nothing to talk about.

#elias x tyson #whump #whumpblr #whump community #whumpay2021 #whump drabble #whump writing #original story #whump oc #whump character #whump intro #whump blog #whumpee #whump scenario #my boys! i love them #allen all scared in the hospital is just

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multi-obsessed-fanfic-writer · 3 years

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Monster (Draco Malfoy x Reader)

Author’s Note: Hey guys! The overwhelming amount of love that my last post is getting is insane, so I decided to post this short little Draco drabble to say thank you. I’m not sure how it turned out, so let me know if you like it at all haha. I wanted to kinda take a twist with the classic dark mark trope. This is also kinda open-ended for a part 2 if y’all want :) But anyway, thank you for all of my new followers and I’m so happy that each and every one of you are here! My requests are open, my DMs are open, and my asks are open if you just wanna know anything about me! I love having mutuals on here, too, so let me know if you want to be mutuals. Thank you!! <3

Summary: Taking the dark mark is never a good decision, so how will it affect you and Draco’s relationship?

Monster

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Word Count: 1,662 (quite a bit shorter than the last one lol)

Warnings: angst. a lot of angst. sorry

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. The two of you were supposed to be normal for just a little bit longer. You had to go and ruin things.

“Draco...I need to tell you something,” You whisper, running your hands through his hand. He hums, turning his head to gaze into your eyes. You smile sadly down at him.

“What’s wrong, darling?” He muses, reaching a hand up to brush your cheek. You sigh into his hand subconsciously, knowing this moment can’t last much longer.

“You’re going to be upset with me,” You murmur, opening your eyes again to stare into his piercing silver ones. They stare back questioningly.

“You know I can never stay mad at you for very long,” He reassures you, sitting up to be face-to-face with you. He senses the seriousness in your tone.

“My...my family gave me a decision a couple weeks ago,” You start, taking a deep breath to keep your voice even, “it happened earlier today.”

“What happened, love?” Draco looks concerned now, sitting up even more to search your face for any possible answers.

“I took the mark.” You whisper, looking down to avoid seeing his reaction. He stills in front of you.

“You took it?” You hear the forcing of his words, almost like he’s choking them out. You look up at him and see the absolute hurt in his eyes. The brokenness.

“They didn’t give me much of a choice, it was either that or--”

“You took the dark mark?” He asks, reaching for your wrist. You shy away from his grasp, bringing your tender wrist to your chest. He looks even more betrayed by your gesture.

“Draco, they...they threatened my family... I-- I didn’t have a choice.” You stutter out.

“There’s always a choice, (Y/n),” Draco stares at your wrist, not you.

“There wasn’t. Voldemort said he’d kill them all if I didn’t step up. I had to, you don’t understand...my parents, my sister. I couldn’t do that to them.” Your lower lip starts to tremble at the memory.

“You could’ve asked for more time or- or asked your sister to step up instead. Why you? Why now? What about our promise to each other?” He asks, clenching his jaw as he asks questions that you don’t know the answer to.

“I don’t know why me...I don’t know why now. But our promise--”

“Is broken.” Draco finishes for you, his eyes finding yours again. You feel like you’re staring into fractals of his soul, shattered into pieces by you and your impulsive decisions.

“No, no we can still be normal, Draco. We can still be together. I-I mean it’s only a matter of time until you have to take it, too. We’ll be in this together at that point. There’s a choice we’ve made in this war--”

“No, there’s a choice that you made in this war. And you made that choice earlier today. After we had promised...that we’d make the opposite choice. We were going to run away together, (Y/n/n)...what happened to that? What happened to us?” He murmurs, and you see his eyes gloss over. Tears prick at your own eyes.

“We’re not gone, baby, we’re still here. Once this war is over, then we can run away together as we planned. I promise.”

“Your promises are starting to sound like a broken record.”

The breath gets knocked out of your lungs at these few words and tears start to spill down your cheeks. He doesn’t believe you.

You’ve lost his trust entirely.

“Don’t say that, Draco. Don’t say that.” You plead, grasping for his hands. He lets you take them, clutching them close to you.

“I’m not sure I can do this, (Y/n)...I never wanted to choose this side. You know that more than anyone,” He mutters, tracing your hands. You sob, unable to wipe away the tears streaming down your cheeks. You know you look like a mess right now, but that couldn’t be further from your mind as you beg for Draco to stay with you.

“Please...for me? We always promised that we’d be there for each other through thick and thin...through everything, right?” You cry, starting to shake furiously throughout your entire body. Draco’s oddly still for a moment.

Then, he rips back your sleeve to reveal the mark in all of its hideous glory. You try to wrench your wrist out of his grasp, but he’s much stronger.

“That was before you became one of them. Before you took this dreaded mark….this dreaded oath. To serve the dark lord.” Draco spits with venom in his voice. You stop struggling against his grip, staring at the mark with him.

Something in you shifts at his cold words, causing you to still and the tears to slow.

“You think I’m a monster,” You let out lowly, face stoic and turned cold as you look up from the mark to your boyfriend.

“I never said that…” He trails off, meeting your eyes. He looks… scared. Of you.

“I can see it in your eyes, Malfoy. You’re afraid of me. Of my power. You’re afraid of what I’ve become because you thought that the sobbing girl in front of you was capable of something terrible. Tell me, Draco, do you think I’m capable of terrifying things?” You ask him harshly, clenching your jaw to prepare for the answer.

“This (Y/n) is not the same one that I fell in love with,” He lets out, face turning from cold to confused again. He knows he’s struck a chord, and now he’s trying to figure his way out.

“Maybe you just didn’t know who you were falling in love with if you think me capable of such horrid things….” You muse in a low tone, rising to your feet slowly. Draco remains seated as you tower over him for once.

“(Y/n)...what’s happening?” He asks, and you see him switch to defensive mode. He starts to reach for his wand in his inner pocket. You’re quicker than him, though, and you quickly whip out your wand.

“Expelliarmus.” You murmur, watching the wand fly across the room. Draco stands but makes no move to retrieve the wand.

“(Y/n). This isn’t you. What are you doing? What changed?” He asks, reaching out to cup your face. You brush his hand aside, your face remaining stone cold.

“You made your choice. You don’t get to reverse that and try to trick me back into your arms. What changed, you ask? I saw my boyfriend...my ex-boyfriend...look into my eyes with fear. I saw him think of me as a monster, as a murderer. I’ve done nothing wrong, yet, Draco! Don’t you see that! I’m trying to remain blameless! I tried to stay with you.” Your stoic facade starts to crack at the edges, showing some of the anger and sadness you’re feeling deep inside.

“You don’t know what you’re saying. This is the mark speaking or something. Please, (Y/n/n), fight the darkness. I...I’m going to try my best and do the same. We’ll make it through this together,” He promises, reaching out another hand. You take a step back.

“You’re just using your smooth words to trick me. You’re still afraid. This is a defense tactic….I’m scaring you. You still think I’m going to hurt you.” A tear slips down your cheek and you look away.

“No, (Y/n/n), you would never hurt me. I know that,” He whispers, taking a cautious step toward you. You look up at him, rage now evident on your face.

“Says the man taking his steps toward me with caution. Says the man who’s still using the same defense tactic I’ve already called you out for! You’re...you’re scared of me. Admit it. I...I’m a monster to you. You’ve already made up your mind,” Your words get softer as your sentence goes on, the rage leaving you as devastation and exhaustion sweeps in behind it. You slump against a table, setting your wand down.

You would never hurt Draco, would you?

Would you?

“You’re upset. You’re in a frenzy. You just need to calm down, (Y/n). Please, we’ll talk about this once you’re no longer upset, okay?” He murmurs, and you’re too tired all of the sudden to stop him from picking you up and setting you down softly on his bed.

“...’m sorry,” You cry softly into his sheets.

“Shh, I know. I know.” He strokes your hair as you drift into a fitful sleep.

~+~

You wake up to rays shining through Draco’s large window. You rub your eyes and look around the room, not seeing Draco. He must be downstairs.

You swing your feet over the edge of the bed, hissing as you feel a stinging pain in your wrist. You lift your sleeve to see the taunting mark on your skin. You itch at it for a moment, only to realize that it won’t ever help. You sigh and stand up, spotting a small piece of paper on the bedside table. You pick it up and start to read the writing on it.

(Y/n),

I’m sorry. And I know you are, too. But I had to go. Maybe we can make up in the future after the war sometime, but right now we’re on opposite sides. And you’re right. I was scared of you. So I left. I won’t be back, not for a long time, at least. Not unless it’s against my will. I hope things get better in the future because I do love you. This is the hardest thing I’ve had to do in a long time. If you can find it in yourself to love me, too, after everything...wait for me. I’ll do the same.

Love,

Draco

You feel your heart rip to pieces in your chest, the events of last night dawning on you. You had almost hurt him. And now, because of your stupidity in the entirety of yesterday, he left you.

And you have no one left to turn to.

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jeranasblog · 3 years

Text

Starker Kink Advent Calendar - Day 16

Summary: Peter marries Tony because he wants to keep working. Tony marries Peter because he doesn’t want the boy’s brilliance to go to waste. Neither one of them expects an overwhelming attraction to unfold between them. Feelings, insecurities, and doubts tangle together until they find themselves inextricably linked. And what happens when a surprise turns everything upside down?

24 days, 24 chapters, 24 kinks

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark

Rating: E

Notes: Hey guys. I’ve decided to write a “Starker Kink Advent Calendar” this year, so 24 chapters with 24 different kinks. Enjoy <3

Warnings: Check all the sex tags on Ao3

Read on Ao3

~⭐~

Day 16 - Praise Kink for Jess <3

“Peter?” MJ looked at him confused when she opened the door. “What are you doing here?”

“Can I c-come in?” Even though Peter tried to keep his voice neutral, it started to tremble after the first syllable.

“Eh, sure.” She took a step aside to let him in.

They stood there awkwardly, Peter with his hands in his pockets and MJ with a concerned look on her face. Peter had never been standing on her threshold at 8 pm on a Sunday evening before.

“Sit down.” MJ gestured to the couch in her small apartment. “Can I offer you something to drink? Beer, coffee, I even have half a bottle of wine left.”

“Just a tea maybe?”

“Of course.”

MJ disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Peter alone in the living room. He sat down on his best friend’s worn-out couch, his posture stiff and uncomfortable while he waited for MJ to come back.

The tea was hot, too hot, but it didn’t stop Peter from taking a sip when MJ pressed the cup in his hands. Anything to occupy himself.

“So, what happened?” MJ asked and sat down next to him.

“How do you know that something has happened?”

She raised her eyebrows and gave him a funny look. “Peter, it’s a Sunday evening that you don’t spend fucking with your Alpha. You are the least spontaneous person I know so everything is screaming ‘emergency’. Did you have a disagreement with Tony?”

No, he didn’t have a disagreement with Tony. He had run away as soon as the realization had kicked in. Tony was probably worried. Usually, they never separated that quickly after a scene. “Not yet.”

“Alright, tell me.”

Peter didn’t want to talk. He wanted to run away or to wake up and everything would be fine again. It wasn’t about being pregnant. Sure, Peter was probably too young, but he had always wanted children. Being pregnant, well, that Peter could handle. But he couldn’t handle messing things up with Tony. The Alpha deserved everything in his life, not a pup when he wasn’t ready.

“You know that Omegas sometimes have to switch to another birth control pill after mating?” Peter didn’t look at MJ while he was speaking, his gaze fixed on the cup of tea. “Hormones can get all messed up and the doctor gives you new pills. I thought I couldn’t stomach my meds anymore so I made an appointment with my gynecologist next week.”

“Oh, yes. Marie had the same problem. She threw up a few times.” MJ had claimed her omega a couple of months before Peter’s wedding and it had messed with Marie’s hormones as well.

“Yeah, I do that too.”

MJ looked at him with pity. “I’m sorry. Good that you made an appointment.”

Peter swallowed. He shouldn’t drag this out. He was here to tell MJ the truth. If he didn’t talk to his best friend, how would he ever manage to talk to Tony?

“It’s not only about the nausea. I eat a lot more and sometimes I hate the smell of coffee. I usually love coffee.”

“Well, that can happen, can’t it?” Technically, MJ was right. All of this could be signs of the wrong birth control meds, but it was rare.

“Probably. But it’s not everything.” Peter paused after the words and took a deep breath to calm himself. “I went to visit May this morning and Tony couldn't come. I was there for an hour until the headache started. MJ, I felt separation anxiety.”

“Peter, you shouldn’t feel this for months,” MJ said slowly. “Even if the bond is new. It’s only coming so fast if-”

“If an omega is pregnant, yes.”

There was silence between them, and MJ’s expression told Peter that she understood. The nausea, the cravings, all of that could be symptoms of Peter’s pregnancy as well. Peter didn’t dare to look at her, afraid he’d start to cry, but as soon as she pulled him into a hug, the tears came anyway.

“Oh, Peter. Have you already taken a test?”

“Not yet. Bought one on my way here though.” He had stopped at a pharmacy to pick up a test, but he was too scared to do it at home so he’d walked straight to MJ’s apartment.

“Do it now,” MJ said firmly. “It won’t change if you wait longer.

“But what if I’m pregnant? What if Tony doesn’t want to be a father?” What if Peter fucked up Tony’s entire life? Bonded to an Omega he hadn’t married out of love, and now there might be a child on top.

Thankfully, MJ pulled him out of his thoughts before he could start to cry again. “Sweetie, your Alpha kisses the ground you walk on. Let’s think about that later. Test first, alright?” Peter nodded so she sent him to the bathroom.

~⭐~

After he had peed on the test, Peter had to wait three minutes for the results. Three minutes had never felt so long before. He sat on the floor of MJ’s bathroom, anxiously staring at the pregnancy test in his hand. What if it would be positive? What if he was actually pregnant with a pup?

Peter’s eyes darted between the test and his watch, counting the seconds until three minutes would be over. He wasn’t even two minutes in when a second stripe appeared on the test. Not a faint color but clearly visible.

His stomach churned when he saw the result. There was almost no doubt that he was pregnant. He didn’t know if he should be happy or upset, all he felt was numbness. The whole time, his birth control hadn’t messed with his body. Quite the opposite, it has malfunctioned after the mating.

Peter’s body screamed for his Alpha, screamed that he wanted someone to protect him and his pup, but he couldn’t move. He was sitting here frozen, staring at the test in his hand.

“Peter?” MJ was knocking on the door. “Can I come in?”

He didn’t react, sitting silently on the bathroom floor while his hand wandered protectively to his stomach. It didn’t matter if Tony wanted children or not, Peter would protect his pup. He would run if necessary, anything to keep the tiny baby that grew inside of him. Peter told himself over and over again that Tony’s reaction wouldn’t matter.

“Peter, open the door, please.”

The knocking stopped, but Peter noticed it only dimly. He was caught in his own thoughts, anxieties, doubts, and plans. To make it even worse, the pain of the separation started, his body was screaming for his Alpha, but Peter’s fear kept him frozen on the bathroom floor.

“Open the door or I call Tony.”

MJ’s words forced Peter to come back to himself. Not Tony, not yet. He wasn’t ready yet!

“Just a second,” Peter’s voice was rough, and he washed his face before he turned the lock of the door.

He had wanted to stay strong, but as soon as he looked into MJ’s face, Peter started to sob. “W-what if he doesn’t want it? What if he wants me to get rid of it?”

She pulled him out of the bathroom into a tight hug, her hand rubbing soothing circles on his back. “Peter, baby. Tony wants kids. And even if he doesn’t, we’ll make it work, okay? You don’t have to get rid of it!”

Peter really didn’t know how this could turn out to be okay but for a moment he let himself believe her. At least, he had MJ at his side.

~⭐~

When Peter came home this evening, he was bone-deep tired but still couldn’t sleep. He sat on the couch, cuddled against his Alpha while they watched a movie together. His thought kept wandering away, and he was pressed stiffly against his Alpha’s side. At one point, he had to talk to Tony, but he wasn’t ready yet.

“Are you okay, Peter? Did anything bad happen to MJ?” Of course, the Alpha had noticed that something was up.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” Tony gave him a concerned look, but he didn’t pressure Peter into talking. “Can you just… hold me close, Alpha?”

Tony was a good Alpha so he didn’t ask any questions. He manhandled Peter until the Omega was sitting on his lap and turned off the TV. Being so close to his husband felt wonderful, closeness helping with the anxiety and Peter relaxed against his Alpha’s chest. Finally, the tension was draining from his body.

They sat like this for a few minutes, Tony’s arms wrapped around him and shielding him from the world. Suddenly, Peter was overcome by the urge to feel his Alpha. Tony didn’t protest when Peter took off their clothes, desperate to bring them closer. He didn’t protest when the Omega fingered himself open and took the Alpha’s cock in one go. Tony stayed still, trying to be what Peter needed him to.

“You’re perfect, Peter, do you know that?”

The words hurt so Peter hid his face against the Alpha’s neck, trying to hold back the tears. His hips started to move, slowly, carefully, while he clung to his Alpha, afraid it was the last time they could have this together.

“You’re the most beautiful Omega I’ve ever met, inside and out.”

The arousal almost hurt, pleasure, guilt and fear raging through Peter while he tried his best to keep his emotions at bay. Thankfully, the scent of Peter’s arousal was stronger than his distress so Tony would smell nothing but cinnamon and vanilla.

“I’m never gonna let you go, Peter. You’re my Omega. Mine to protect.”

Peter’s body was shaking, his hips only barely keeping up the movement. How could Tony say something like this when Peter was going to ruin it? He would spill the secret, there was no way Peter could get through another day.

What if Tony didn’t want it? What if something was wrong with the child? What if Peter had trapped his Alpha? What if…? What if…? What if…?

“You’re the best husband I could’ve ever imagined. I didn’t only marry you out of pity or because you’re beautiful, baby. I wanted you.”

Peter started to sob, his entire body trembling while his legs gave in. He was still sitting on Tony’s cock, his thighs still wet with his slick, but his thoughts were far away. How could Tony say something like this? Words so beautiful that they hit Peter’s core? He wasn’t crying like he usually did during sex, no sweet tears of desperation. Instead, Peter was driven by fear.

“Hey, baby, Peter, what happened?” Tony, always insightful, lifted Peter’s hips so Tony’s cock could slip out. He pulled his Omega against his chest, the thick erection still pressed against Peter’s ass while he let the Omega cry on his lap.

“I-I fucked u-up, Tony?”

“Hey, baby, shhh, what’s going on. What did you do? I can fix it, baby.” The sympathy of his Alpha almost hurt and Peter pressed closer.

“Y-you can’t fix it, A-Alpha.”

Peter wanted to withdraw from the embrace, but Tony wrapped his arms even tighter around his Omega as he tried to pull back.

“Whatever it is, I’m gonna fix it, baby. Do you need money? I give you all the money you need, baby.”

Peter felt his nausea coming back again. How could Tony promise something like this? He didn’t even know what Peter had done.

Before he could change his mind, before Peter got any opportunity to drag it out again, he slipped from his Alpha’s embrace and got the jacket he had worn this evening. Taking a deep breath, Peter pulled out the pregnancy test and dumped it in his Alpha’s naked lap.

“Seems like I’m pregnant.”

Peter closed his eyes before he could see his Alpha’s reaction.

#starker #advent calendar

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writer-senpai · 4 years

Text

Comfort and Kisses

(Gyro Zeppeli x reader)

(I just finished reading Steel Ball Run yesterday and loved it, but there is not enough fanfic for it so I made more.One time I had this thing called ‘exploding head syndrome’ where I woke up and thought that a gun had really gone off. It was pretty terrifying, but I reimagined it with Gyro’s comfort 😉Nyo ho ho)

You heard a bang as you suddenly bolted awake, fear causing your heart to race. Was that a gunshot? Terrified, you clung to the covers, tears quietly staining your face. You could feel your breathing speed up, and you cautiously looked around.

You, Gyro, and Johnny has been traveling to win the Steel Ball Run race and find all the corpse parts, so the noise you heard could’ve been an enemy. However, there appeared to be no threat. What was going on?

“Nyo ho ho? Are you awake, (y/n)?” You turned to your boyfriend Gyro, who had been keeping watch as he sat beside you. His cheerful expression changed to concern when he noticed your shaking. “Is everything all right?”

“Did you hear a gunshot just now? I-I thought I hea-heard one...” You desperately clung to his arm. You didn’t like to show vulnerability, preferring to tease or joke around with Gyro, but you needed to feel his safe embrace now. “I-I’m scared...”

Gyro wrapped his arms around you tightly as you clung to him, shivering. He kissed your forehead gently, doing his best to calm you down. “It’s okay (y/n), I’ve got you. I promise that you’re safe. I’d never let anyone hurt you. I’d make them fall off their horse if they even touched you.”

You felt your cheeks get warm as you leaned into his chest, trying to match your breaths with his heartbeat. Although Gyro was slightly awkward when it came to comforting you, you still appreciated him none the less.

“I’ve been working on a new verse for my song. Music and lyrics both by Gyro Zeppeli! I added your favorite cheese; I’ll sing it to you.” He gently lay down with you still cradled in his arms, whispering in your ear.

“Piiizzza mascarpone. Piiizzza mascarpone. Pone Pone Pone Pone~ what do you think of it?”

You let out a gentle laugh; his eyes lighting up. You felt your body stop shaking as your breaths returned to normal.

“I love it, Gyro.”

He grinned mischievously. “I knew you would, (y/n). Forget Europe, it’ll be a worldwide hit~ nyo ho ho!”

You snorted, and his expression softened as you squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry for being such a mess~ I get really realistic nightmares sometimes, and I wake up thinking it’s real... But you make me feel safe.”

You had already told him all about your crappy childhood. Gyro knew you had grown up neglected and lonely, which made it difficult for you to trust anyone. But when you somehow joined up with him and Johnny, your hard exterior had softened as you all joked and traveled together.

“Mia Bella, I love you. There’s no way in hell I’d leave you to deal with that on your own.” Gyro’s voice had lowered, and now he was the one with a vulnerable look on his face. “I’ll protect you no matter what.”

You blushed, hiding your face against his chest. “What did I do to deserve you? Damn, I love you so much.”

You wrapped your legs around him, clinging like a koala and smirking as his face heated up. He gently ran his hands along your back as you began to kiss his chest, slowly moving towards his face.

Gyro smirked back at you, sitting up as you tried to pull him into a kiss. “Nyo ho ho, someone’s needy, huh?”

You pouted at his teasing, your arms still wrapped around his neck. You felt electric as adreneline flowed through your body. You needed to feel Gyro’s lips against yours.

“Goddammit Gyro, let me give you some love.” Feeling quite daring, you pushed him over, pressing your lips against his, full of force and desperation. His hands stroked your sides teasingly, sending shivers throughout your body. He looked so attractive and raw in front of you; melting into your touch. You kissed along his neck gently as he softly moaned your name.

“I want you, (y/n)~”

You slowed down, panting as you ran your fingers through his hair. Gyro shifted so you lay in his arms, and hungrily kissed your sides, neck, and face. You felt a wave of pleasure overcome you as you ran your hands along his back. “You’re amazing, Gyro~”

“Nyo ho ho, why don’t we take this to the next level?”

But before you could respond, there was a disgusted groan from Johnny on the other side of the campfire.

“Could you lovebirds be any louder?”

You snorted as Gyro whispered in your ear. “Tell him to stop ruining our moment.”

“Tell him yourself.”

“Don’t ruin our moment, asshole!”

Johnny simply turned over, burying himself in his blanket. “Try to keep it down at least, will you?”

You and Gyro shared a mischievous smirk, once again pulling each other into a passionate kiss.💞

#jojos bizzare adventure x reader #gyro x reader #jjba x reader #jojo imagines #jojo x reader #steel ball run #gyro zeppeli #gyro zeppeli x reader #jojo part 7

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virtueangel · 4 years

Text

limitless.

chapter seventeen.

wc: 2,176. original publish date: november 9, 2020.

"Jack!" Van Gogh yells.

JFK rolls over in bed, rubbing his eyes. "Hm?"

"Come here and look at this!"

John sits up, pulling his red and white sweater over his head before standing and crossing over to the bay window.

"What are we looking at?"

Vincent points. "Look, we can see the sun!"

JFK smiles. "It's rather pretty, isn't it?"

The smaller boy turns around to face his boyfriend, an eager grin plastered across his face. "It's such a nice day. We have to do something."

"We do something every day."

"Is that a problem?"

JFK grins now. "No."

Van Gogh reaches up to kiss the taller boy on the cheek. "Let's go on a road trip."

"Darling, we are on a road trip."

"Well, I've already got a destination picked out for us. But I think it's a couple hours away."

Kennedy raises an eyebrow. "I thought we weren't using our phones to pick locations."

"Well, it isn't specific..." Van Gogh shrugs. "It's just... logical?"

JFK takes a minute to think this over. "Did you use your phone to find it?"

Vincent shakes his head. "No. I don't know how that would be useful, considering I don't even know which state we're in."

"I think we're in Utah."

Van Gogh scrunches up his nose. "We are not!"

JFK laughs. "No, we're not. We drove in the opposite direction."

"I thought we weren't looking at GPS," Vincent replies, but he's wearing a playful smile.

"No, I just know basic geography."

"Touché."

***

"So, what is the secret destination, exactly?" JFK asks, spreading some cream cheese onto his bagel.

"It's a secret."

"But I have to drive us there."

"I can drive," Van Gogh offers casually, looking down into his glass of orange juice.

JFK quirks an eyebrow. "Vincent, you don't know how to drive."

Gogh shrugs. "You could teach me."

"My car is a stick shift. Most people learn to drive automatic first."

Vincent swallows his orange juice and wipes his lip with his napkin. "I'm not most people."

Kennedy laughs nervously. "Minivan," he stops, waiting for Vincent's objection to the name. It doesn't come. "Of course you're not most people. But do you really think I could teach you how to drive? I mean, you remember the accident I got into from driving over a rock earlier this year, right?"

Vincent sips his orange juice. "Okay, but you're careful now. You hate getting scratches on your car."

"Darling," JFK waits for Van Gogh to pick his head up. He opens his mouth to add onto the sentence, but thinks better of it. He changes his thought at the last second. "Someday, okay? I'll drive today. I can't teach you to drive in a day and you can't get a license in a day, either, but I'll teach you. I promise."

Vinnie sighs. "Okay."

Kennedy flashes his model grin again. "Okay, perfect. Now, will this trip require packing?"

"It's only for the day, JFK," Van Gogh responds, smiling at the boy's enthusiasm. "But I guess there are a few things you need... Did you pack a swimsuit?"

JFK's jaw falls slack. "Vinnie, it's April."

"April isn't winter in every part of the world."

"But it isn't summer in any part of America."

Vincent gestures to the window over the kitchen sink. "If we can see the sun in Marshtown, you can bet your ass the skies will be cloudless everywhere else."

Kennedy laughs at the boy's subtle swearing. "Yeah, okay, I'm down. But you know you actually have to tell me where we're going since I'm driving, right?"

Van Gogh finishes off his orange juice and holds up a finger excitedly. "I'll be back in a second," he says before pushing his chair out from the table and running up the stairs. JFK leans back in his seat, giggling and shaking his head. How can a boy like Vincent exist? Someone so smart and talented, who also likes to have fun? Granted, Kennedy has never seen Van Gogh smile with anyone besides himself, but John is glad to play along with his "secret destination."

Vincent comes back into the kitchen two minutes later, holding a pad of Post-Its and a pen. He slides into his chair, one leg tucked beneath him and the other planting its foot on the floor. The boy begins to scribble something, but even his scribbling comes out in elegant loopy cursive. After thirty seconds or so, he peels the Post-It off from the rest of the pad and sticks it to JFK's forehead.

John reaches up to detach the Post-It from his skin. He reads the handwriting scrawled in the middle, perfectly centred across the hideously bright green paper. "What's this?"

"That's where we're going. I didn't want to say it out loud because that ruins the surprise, but you still have to know. So boom. A perfect middle."

Kennedy laughs. "I don't think this is a perfect middle, but I'll give you points for trying."

"Gotta get my approach grade up," Vincent replies.

JFK gazes at his boyfriend, his face soft. He smiles affectionately, and Van Gogh searches for a telling look in his eyes. He looks like he wants to say something, but no words come out of his mouth. Vincent smiles back.

"Well," he says. "If we want to get there at a reasonable hour and still get home before too late, we should go soon."

"I'll wash the dishes," JFK offers, but Van Gogh slaps his hand away when he tries to pick up the plates.

"No, silly! You made breakfast. Give and take, okay?"

John nods and retreats his hands. "Give and take," he agrees.

Van Gogh clears the table, humming to himself the whole time. JFK is gone from the kitchen, making the bed upstairs. When he's done, he walks over to the bay window and slides it open to step out onto the balcony. He holds the railing, gazing out over Marshtown and marvelling at what little sun manages to break through the heavy fog. Today is one in a million.

Kennedy's thoughts are interrupted when he hears footsteps behind him. He turns around. Van Gogh is crossing the bedroom and stepping through the bay window to join his boyfriend.

"Ready to go?" He asks the taller boy.

JFK can't help but smile when he makes eye contact with Vincent. His brown eyes seem deeper today, fuller with... something. A secret, but the kind he wants to share with John, so they can have something just for the two of them.

Kennedy reaches out for the boy's hand and gives it a squeeze. "Yeah," he says. "I'm ready."

The boys walk through the house and out to the car side by side, never dropping hands until they have to split to climb into their separate sides of the vehicle.

"Are we allowed to use a map?" JFK asks after they're out of Marshtown.

Van Gogh thinks for a minute. "Well, I guess that's not a cell phone..."

"Just because I need to know which highway to take."

Vincent nods, opening the glove compartment to get the map that the girl way back in Blackbox had given them. "Yeah... Looks like we keep following the one we took to get here."

JFK activates his turn signal. "Rad."

"Can we listen to the radio?" Van Gogh asks after a while.

Kennedy glances at the boy. "Really? I thought you liked radio silence."

Vincent shrugs. "Maybe there'll be something good on."

John smiles. "All right. I think that would be okay."

Van Gogh flips through some channels, not satisfied with anything playing until he finds a song that he knows is by Queen. He hums along, knowing some of the lyrics, but not the title of the song. JFK hums along too, and for those five minutes, they are the only two people in the whole world.

"Can I ask you something?" JFK asks once the song is over.

"You may."

Kennedy hesitates, phrasing the question. "You've been old enough to drive for a while now, so how come you never learned before?"

Van Gogh scoffs. "You really think my parents would've taught me?"

Jack shrugs. "You could've asked me."

Vinnie shakes his head. "No, there's a reason I never tried to before."

The question lingers in the air, the silence charging it until the electric shock burns into JFK.

"Are you going to tell me?"

Vincent takes a deep breath, pondering. He'd never said it out loud before. He'd only ever written it down in journals. He has a rule when he writes about himself: he doesn't start on the first pages of the journal, because then anyone could flip the cover and learn his deepest secrets. He always opens to the middle of the book, a random page that nine times out of ten would go unnoticed. Sometimes it trips him up when he chooses another random page and the entry is so long that it bleeds into another one, but that's okay. He never rereads his journals. He doesn't need to be disturbed by thoughts that are already in his head.

This is the first time he'll ever speak one of those thoughts out loud.

"I can't drive a car because I'm afraid -- no, it's more than a fear, it's just knowing -- that I'll go right off the edge of a cliff and you'll never see me, or the car, again."

JFK goes silent. "I know a lot of people get into accidents, but cars are made to be safe. The only reason why crashes are so popularised is because no one talks about the safe drivers. That's not a story. 'Oh, look at this population of people who follow all the driving laws and never get themselves into dangerous situations!' That's not newsworthy. Accidents are something to report. Everything else is... mundane."

Van Gogh blinks, thinking. "That actually makes a lot of sense," he says.

Kennedy smiles. "Yeah, it does." After a second, he asks, "But what changed your mind?"

"Hm?"

"Why is driving suddenly okay now?"

Vincent shakes his head, laughing at himself. "It's stupid."

"Tell me," JFK smiles assuringly. "You can trust me."

Van Gogh blushes. "I feel bad that you're always the one... doing stuff. You're the one who cooks, the one who drives..."

"But you're the one who remembers to lock the house and put away the clean dishes."

Vincent giggles. "Our house doesn't lock, Jack."

JFK grins. "I know it doesn't. But you always go back to check. I hear you walking down the stairs at night, right after we've turned off the light to go to sleep. You go back through the house and make sure all the lights are off and the door is locked."

Van Gogh looks away, suddenly embarrassed. He pretends to be fascinated by the plastic bags and styrofoam take-out containers strewn about the highway shoulder. "You know that I do that?"

"Vinnie, it's nothing to be ashamed of. It's good practise."

"Yes, but it isn't normal practise."

JFK has no verbal response to that. Instead, he extends an arm and cups his hand around Vincent's shoulder. He rubs back and forth comfortingly, and Van Gogh reaches across his body to rest his hand on top of the boy's. He suddenly feels at ease, unashamed of the way he needs to go back through the house and make sure everything is the way it's supposed to be before he can fall asleep. He takes a deep breath and settles into his seat. This is exactly where he's supposed to be.

But then he remembers something.

He sits up and turns abruptly, throwing JFK's arm off of his shoulder.

"You okay, Minivan?"

Vincent glares. "One, don't call me that. Two, have you seen my sketchbook anywhere?"

Kennedy scrunches up his face and shakes his head. "No, I don't think so... You can't find it?"

Van Gogh frowns. "No. It's so funny. Everything else is sprawled out on the vanity -- my coloured pencils, my watercolours, the books I brought to read on this trip... but I can't find my sketchbook anywhere! I was drawing in it one day and now I have no idea where it is!"

JFK twists up his lips in thought. "That's so weird... maybe you put it down somewhere?"

"I was on the balcony. I don't remember anything after that."

"Hmm..."

Gogh sits back in his seat, plunging his fists into the pocket of his letterman jacket. "Keep an eye out for it though, okay? I was working on a drawing in there."

Kennedy grins at the boy's reflection in the rearview mirror. "Of course you were."

Van Gogh looks down at the map on his lap, changing subjects but not forgetting his sketchbook. "Ugh, still one hundred fifty more miles?"

"God, why'd you pick a location so far away?" JFK fake-whines.

Vincent shakes his head, but he's wearing a smile. "Because we have to tour the whole damn world."

John flashes his blindingly white grin. "I'm in."

#clone high #clone high jfk #clone high van gogh #jfgogh #limitless.

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iwriteforthetincanman · 4 years

Text

Mandoctober Day 14: Helmet

A/N: brought to you by angst, depression, a small hot chocolate, the tense feeling in my shoulders as I’m typing this and of course the source of almost all of my writing: the mixture of insomnia and a f**ked up sleep schedule.

p.s. I am trying to take care of myself, October is just a tough time of the year for me and Mandoctober is helping me cope. I refuse to give up any possibly writings/drawings at this point.

Also this is loosely based off of headcannons from @dindjarindiaries blog and this is for @leo-moon ‘s Mandoctober!

TW: mentions of abuse (both descriptive, non-descriptive, mental, emotional and physical but only for a two, three paragraphs) Refusal to eat or sleep (Din refuses to do these things for two seconds and Reader isn’t granted them) minor character death, themes of slavery (NOT RACE SPECIFIED) (not a trigger warning) pronouns of a gender neutral partner and of course, lastly, hurt/comfort and fluff. (Also personally because I wrote this and I can shout it into the void, I’m gender fluid with she/her pronouns so I’d like to imagine reader is too, BUT THAT’S JUST ME SO IMAGINE THIS HOWEVER YOU WANT, once again requests are open for any sexuality/gender, as long as you give me brief description of what you want, nothing NSFW)

Time. Aboard the Razor Crest with no specific moon, sun or stars to guide you, time easily became irrelevant. What you learned very quickly was that with this discovery, you realized Din knew that too.

Or it had gotten to a point where he learnt it a long time ago and just...forgot all about it.

Sometimes he would just sit there in the pilot’s seat, without even doing anything and he would just stare into oblivion. You wondered if his eyesight was okay. Now that you think about it...when was the last time he ate something? Does he ever take that helmet off?

“Din? Are you okay?” For a moment you thought he might be asleep.

“Sorry...did you say something?” Okay, now you knew he at least needed some sleep.

“Come on tin can. You need some brain food and maybe even an ‘extended nap’.” You joked.

“Isn’t that just called sleeping?” You couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not...or if that helmet was squeezing his brain too.

“Come on!” Grabbing his hand unexpectedly, Din flinched a little before you dragged him to his feet.

“I-I can’t.” This admission had you stopping in your tracks as you reached the hull.

“Is...everything okay?” You were concerned before but now you were starting to think he was hiding a wound from you. He’s done it before. Waiting until you were asleep to tend to it so you wouldn’t worry. Little did he know you had been wide awake with worry for a while and could hear him hurting himself with that blasted cauterizer.

It was understandable that as a Mandalorian medical supplies weren’t cheap. Even with all the bounties Din brought in, currency rates were going up around the universe. It was difficult to keep up with. Which is why you never broached the subject with him.

It wasn’t your place to pry.

Not with him anyway...he was silent, reserved, it was like he didn’t trust you. Yet you of all people understood that, you understood that it took you a long time to trust him. Like really trust him with your life...rather than just your role to him as the child’s ‘caretaker’.

It blind sided you when you realized how deeply you cared for him...Mando.

Gods, you didn’t even know his own name.

“My creed. I can’t...eat in front of other people.” This was a touchy subject. You knew that. But you underestimated how stressed out he really was. He wasn’t wounded...he was just bone tired.

“Well, I can make some food-”

“DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND? I DON’T NEED YOUR HELP!”

“...ok.”

He hadn’t seethed the words out from his teeth as loud as you had heard them.

But...the look on your face as your eyes met the floor, undoubtedly filling with tears.

It cut Din deeper than any vibroblade could.

---

“I don’t know what to do Ad’ika. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t dream without thinking of her. And now...now I’ve gone and done the worst thing I could ever do to her...I hurt her without even touching her.”

The sigh was small before it reached a crescendo out of his lungs, erupting out of his head like it was a volcano. That was what it felt like to breath again. When he was alone Mando had the freedom to take his helmet off on the Crest as much as he wanted. As long as he was in space, his privacy was unlimited.

But that all changed when he met the child and then eventually...you.

“I just wish...I knew more about her. Knew her likes and dislikes. Knew what her favorite food was. What makes her laugh...her favorite kind of music…I’ve gone and ruined everything haven’t I? Not just for me but for you too. I can’t just let her go...and if she does leave I can’t just hire someone new. She’s...really burrowed her way into my heart, little one.”

Din’s soliloquy fell into the little creature’s ears like a fly trap. The child knew his father was hurting, he could feel it, not just in the force but in his tiny little heart. It was the kind of hurt he couldn’t fix with his own hands...he had to find another way. He had to make his buir feel whole again.

Determined, the little creature climbed onto his father’s chest as his breathing started to relax.

“Ad’ika, I’m not in the mood for games right now…” The dark circles under Din’s eyes became more and more pronounced as the hours dragged on. The good thing about being a father now meant that he had someone to talk to at any time if the baby was also struggling to sleep.

Din never thought he would become a father. He thought a lot of things wouldn’t happen before he died a warrior’s death. He definitely thought he wasn’t going to fall in love too...but that happened before he could even think about it.

Multiple chirps and coos echoed from the child’s lips as Din continued to massage his temples.

“Ad’ika did you not hear me?”

Opening his eyes, Din found himself utterly and completely alone.

“Ad’ika!” Startling upwards, he launched himself onto his bear feet as he searched the dark air around him for either you or the child.

“Y/N!” Screaming your name into the void he began to run, not caring about his bare feet, his sleep wear or the fact his helmet was completely missing.

A fact that had not gone unnoticed by the child.

---

Abruptly, Din was launched into the scorching blazes of a desert sun.

The sand hurt as he fell down the dune he wasn’t gonna lie.

But in some weird, twisted way, it felt good to feel the sand under his skin.

“Girl! You get back here! Wretched creature!!” The sudden yelling came from a small village not too far away from where Din stood. Flinching, he hid behind the sand. He felt naked without the beskar. It was almost embarrassing how scared he was right now.

Peering over the sandy hill, he saw a young child with Y/H/C hair, rosy cheeks and bare feet run straight towards him. Not considering the strange events that had occurred before this, Din, although he’d never admit it, attempted to run away from her. Except, when she caught up to him, she ran right through him.

Din couldn’t decide whether this was some wicked form of a dream or that he had died and was now wandering the nearest planet.

Oh Maker, what if he was dead? There was no way you could pilot the Crest on your own...and what about Ad’ika.

That was when he heard it, the baby cooing in his head.

“Ad’ika?”

That’s when it clicked. He wasn’t in some hellish figment of his imagination or dead…the child had used his powers to do this since he wasn’t wearing his helmet. But then again...where the hell was he?

“Y/N! YOU UGLY THING! IF YOU DON’T GET BACK HERE I WILL THROTTLE YOU!”

Whipping around to face you, all Din was met with was the familiar sight of you hunched over yourself, right near his feet. Crying. This had happened before but…not like this.

Was this...one of your memories?

Oh no...Din was in your head. Somehow, the baby had managed it.

“I DON’T WANT TO GO BACK THERE! AND YOU CAN’T MAKE ME!” Din turned back to face the furious woman, she looked like a cursed school teacher, her hair flying all over the place. But what stood out to him were the nail marks on her cheek.

He couldn’t picture it but somehow this woman had distressed you so much you had decided to hit her. The next thing that happened confirmed it…

SLAP!

“YOU EVER HIT ME LIKE THAT AGAIN GIRL I WON’T BE AS CONSIDERATE TO KEEP YOU!”

Keep you? Oh...you weren’t a school child.

You were a slave.

That’s why when you had first met you had been so skittish, so fearful...and yet so brave.

Somehow it all made sense.

Din couldn’t help reaching out for you as your head sagged on your shoulders, a purple and pink mark blossoming across the side of your face as the evil woman clawed her hand around your wrist.

“You will make my children their supper and you will go straight into the cellar with no dinner. Do you understand me child?” She spoke with a gentle tone...yet the venom dripped from it with the force of a thousand sandcrawlers.

“...Yes Ma’am.”

Your submission startled Din. Then again, you were only a child, and if Din hadn’t been taken in by the Mandalorians at your age...who knows what could’ve happened to him. From what little he had heard about of slaves...they didn’t often make it to see their teenage years.

Yet, somehow you did.

Din couldn’t help being grateful that, from what he could see of you, those were the only things that cruel woman had done to you.

---

Stumbling into a new landscape, Din shook his head in an attempt to gain his bearings.

“Look Y/N, it’ll be a quick job, all you have to do is listen to what I say and we’ll be gone as soon as you can say ‘bantha fodder’.”

This was a new voice. A teenager from what Din could guess. They spoke in a kind tone but at the sound of the way they said your name he couldn’t help the feeling of jealousy welling up in him.

Shaking his head once again, he looking around the jungle planet to spot you and this person.

“Iarren...I don’t know about this. I know we’ve done stuff like this before but we’re not resistance fighters. Those are imperial troops. What if...what if one of us doesn’t come back from this?”

A much older version of you appeared like a vision from behind the leaves. You were much older now, Din could only guess that you had only just recently come of age. You had grown into your features well. He could see more of the fierce woman he had come to know.

“Babe, you worry too much. Imps are stupid, plus what we are after is right next to the door practically. If you’re so concerned you can cover me from here and I’ll be right back to kiss your worries away...alright?” Din could tell just by the way you shared a glance that you were absolutely taken with this person.

In a way Din respected them...but in the back of his mind he knew there was a reason he was seeing this particular memory. Bracing himself, he could only watch as you shared a tender kiss with your lover. It shocked him how passionate you were with them. Gripping them like a vice as if you knew what was about to happen.

Din’s heart broke for you as he watched you sob over their corpse later that very night.

---

“Cyare?”

Din thought he had finally made it back to you just by looking upon your face. Much older now, age similar to the one when he met you. Looking around, he realized...this was that exact moment.

“Excuse me.”

Now Din knew for certain he wasn’t dreaming...there was no way he could dream about himself in this much detail. It was like having an out of body experience...in a way he was.

“Can I help you?” The first thing Din noticed about you was that you were too kind to have been on a planet as rough as Andos. Imps were everywhere nowadays and it was the one time Din had to wear a proper cloak so no one could spot him.

“I need to hire someone to help me with a child. I was wondering if you could help me find a person that is trustworthy?” Being a Mandalorian was so difficult that day. Meeting you made him realize that you were kind enough to suggest yourself, admitting that you were tired of the constant trail of dead bodies this planet had shown you. He flinched when you mentioned the blood you found leaking through your front door one morning.

He accepted your offer immediately. Offering payment for a job you had been doing for years without none.

Din had no clue he had saved you from slavery for the second time in your life.

---

Waking up in a cold sweat, Din knew this was reality.

All your memories, it felt like a dream.

That’s when he felt his son sag against his chest, heaving long tired breaths.

Din was scared he had over exerted himself.

“Ad’ika...why did you do that?”

All the child could do was reach for his father’s face, bringing it towards his own.

“Da.” This one, simple word, brought Din’s walls crumbling to the ground as he began to cry.

“Thank you...Ni kar’tayli gar darasuum Ad’ika.”

The overwhelming joy he felt caused his thoughts about you to skyrocket. He knew he had to share this information with you.

Startling from his bed, Din shot out of his room with the sleepy child tucked against his vest clad chest.

“Y/N! Cyare come quick!”

The sound of his unmodulated voice scared you more than anything else he had said to you that night. What you didn’t expect when you opened the door was to find a complete stranger shouting your name.

“WHO ARE YOU? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH DIN?!” You practically screamed, ready to throw hands with this strange practically half naked man that had appeared before you.

That’s what you spotted the child in his arms, half asleep and staring admiringly up at the man.

“...He called me da. I...had to share that with you Cyare...I didn’t even think twice about my creed.” The watery smile he gave you was enough to convince you that the man before you was none other than Din Djarin himself.

“...just like that? You...you threw away your creed, being a Mandalorian...just so you could tell me he spoke his first word?” Din thought you were upset, in a way you were.

When he turned to find your eyes filled with the happiest of tears he had ever seen, the overwhelming urge to kiss you kept slamming into his head, bleeding through his heart.

“Cyare...Father’s always share the first word their child speaks with their Mother.”

When you began to sob, Din refused to hold himself back as he curled his fingers through your hair, cradling your son between the two of you as he tilted your head back.

As his lips brushed against yours for the first time…

You both had never felt so free.

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sweetmemories2606 · 4 years

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Answers (Gruvia/Gajevy Fanfic) Chapter 2

Originally this was my prompt for Gruvia Week 2020 day 3: perverse, but as it often happens, the story decided to become multi-chapter.

Here's the basic info to jog everyone's memory:

Title: Answers

Pairings: Gruvia, Gajevy (from ch 3), may include other ships as well

Summary: Everyone has secrets, but some are deadlier than others. Gray didn't imagine Juvia was hiding anything, until she was taken by the Magic Council for questioning.

Timeline: Grand Magic Games

Warnings: Major plot twist and incoming angst. 😏

Word Count: around 2000 words per chapter

Link: Ch 1 Ch 2

I hope you'll enjoy!

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

Chapter 2: Suspicion

"They sent you to infiltrate Fiore in case the invasion failed, didn't they?"

Standing up, Juvia glared at the two agents. "I refuse to stay here and listen to you make such accusations without evidence."

Doranbolt reached for the handcuffs before using his teleportation magic. Appearing behind her, he quickly placed them around her wrists.

Juvia gasped upon realising that they prevented her from using magic. Not good.

Returning to his seat at the table, Doranbolt gave her a determined look. "You're not going anywhere until we have the truth."

"If you give us useful information, we might consider not arresting you." Lahar said.

Juvia struggled against the cuffs, but it was pointless. "I don't trust either of you."

Doranbolt sighed. "Look, I'm giving you a chance to do the right thing here."

"The right thing." She rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Why do people always use that term?"

"If you don't cooperate..." Lahar threatened.

"You'll arrest me, I know." Juvia shrugged.

"But before that..." Doranbolt lifted a glowing hand. "I'll use my magic to see through your memories."

Juvia considered this for a moment, quickly coming to the conclusion that it wouldn't be the worst case scenario. After all, it's not like they would find anything useful there either.

"Go ahead." She shrugged, and the two agents seemed confused. "You won't find what you're looking for."

"Alright, then." Doranbolt pressed his hand against her forehead and closed his eyes.

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

At the infirmary

Gray was met with cheers and congratulations from his comrades once he re-entered the infirmary.

"Well done, Gray." Makarov was the first to congratulate him.

"It was about time." Cana rolled her eyes.

"You're a real man." Elfman yelled.

"I'm so happy for you!" Mirajane swooned.

"Wait a second..." Gajeel was the first to notice. "Where's Juvia?"

The mood instantly changed as people became confused, worried and honestly a little afraid.

"Gray?" Erza asked, leaving Natsu's side since she had been comforting him and taking a step towards the ice mage.

"She's gone." He answered and his mind replayed the weird moment from before in an attempt to understand it.

"Gone where?" Gajeel asked, his tone even more concerned.

"I don't know." Gray answered, sincerely. "She told me not to worry, but I can't help it."

"I'm confused." Natsu affirmed. "Did you guys get together or not?"

Everyone looked at the ice mage in expectation. "That's not really any of your business, flame brain." Gray snapped, a slight blush colouring his cheeks.

"Please." Cana scoffed. "If you wanted to keep it a secret, then you shouldn't have been so obvious."

Before he could protest, Makarov stepped in. "Gray, I understand you are a private person, but we just want you to be happy."

"And if being with Juvia is what makes you happy, we want help to make that happen." Levy continued.

"Speak for yourself." Gajeel muttered, glaring at the ice mage.

"I appreciate you wanting to help." Gray said after a few silent moments. "But I think it's up to me and Juvia now."

"And where is Juvia?" Makarov asked, looking worried. "Why isn't she with you?"

"She was taken by the Magic Council." The former revealed, ensuing shocked gasps and screams.

"But why?" Levy asked what all were thinking.

Defeated, Gray slumped into a chair. "I have no idea."

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

Outside Crocus

"I still can't believe she hurt Lucy like that." Meredy was still in disbelief over what they had witnessed earlier.

"It seems the Sabertooth guild doesn't care about humanity." Jellal stated pensively.

"Do you think they could be the evil we've been sensing?" Ultear suggested.

"Can't be." He immediately responded, shaking his head. "They were all in their stand yesterday when I saw the figure."

"They could've used an illusion like Raven Tail." Ultear wisely pointed out.

Meredy was thoughtful for a moment. "I don't think we should spend much time considering this."

"We've got bigger issues to think about." Jellal said, glancing at the crystal ball in her hands which showed the still image of Juvia walking away from Gray, following Doranbolt and Lahar.

They had been aiming to check up on Lucy, but once the image of the couple outside the infirmary appeared, Meredy insisted they watched this interaction. They knew why she was interested in the couple and couldn't deny their own curiosity.

Watching Gray try to confess was amusing and when they finally kissed the trio smiled in delight. However, the beautiful moment was soon ruined by the two Magic Council agents.

"Why do you think they want to talk to Juvia?" Meredy wondered.

"I don't know." Jellal frowned, worried and suspicious.

"It's not really our business." Ultear pointed out, making the image disappear from the ball.

"It could be, if she's involved in something dangerous." He told her.

"You don't think she is, do you?" Meredy's eyes widened, her disbelief clear.

Jellal and Ultear shared a look before he sighed. "I've always sensed that she had a connection to Zeref."

"Me too." The time mage admitted.

"But…" Meredy didn't want to believe it. She refused to. "She can't…"

"I remember meeting her when we were members of the Council, while she was still in Phantom Lord." Ultear mused. "There was a certain...energy to her which now that I think about it is similar to Zeref's."

"I didn't feel that." Meredy said, now conflicted.

"This without mentioning the fact that her file is nearly empty." Jellal remembered. "I always thought that was the fault of the orphanage where she grew up, but it could be something else."

"Well, whatever she's hiding, we should figure it out before someone gets hurt because of it." Ultear affirmed.

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

In Alvarez

"I still think that you should have killed her on Tenrou Island." Dimaria stated as the Spriggan 12 met with Emperor Spriggan to discuss the matter of Juvia Lockser.

"Why?" Irene questioned. "The girl is hardly a threat."

"You said the same about her father." Larcade observed.

"And she was right." Zeref spoke, silencing their argument. "Or are you forgetting that Daniel was the one who allowed us to dispose of the Council members that posed a threat to the Empire?"

"Yet why are we letting them live?" Larcade motioned towards the image of Doranbolt and Lahar that was shown on a screen.

"For now." The Emperor said. "But we didn't arrange this meeting to discuss them."

"No, we did not." Irene said as everyone became serious.

"We should focus on our latest mission to infiltrate Fairy Tail." Invel reminded them.

Dimaria voiced her opinion. "I still believe this is rather risky."

"I agree." Ajeel piped in. "Trusting a mere servant to gain us access to their inside information…"

"Well, if any of us went there they'd be easily suspicious." Brandish pointed out, looking bored as usual.

"Besides, we can't forget that our spy has a deep connection to one of their core members." August finally spoke.

"That is precisely why I chose them." Zeref stated with a knowing smile. "It's always easier for people to trust someone they think they know."

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

Inside the castle

"Are you sure that was the right call?" Doranbolt asked while organising the files.

"I don't know." Lahar let out a defeated sigh. "But we established that she's not a threat."

"That doesn't mean we can trust her, though." The former concluded, closing the now empty drawer on the desk.

"Of course not." The latter shook his head. "We'll keep a close eye on her and if she does anything suspicious, we can arrest her."

"Don't you think it would be better to take her now instead of waiting?" Doranbolt suggested.

As expected, Lahar disagreed. "We do not have enough evidence to arrest her now."

The former sighed. "Sometimes I hate having to do things the right way."

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

Outside the Mercurious

Juvia left the palace feeling uncertain and unsafe. Even though she hadn't said anything incriminating nor did her memories reveal the truth, she felt like Doranbolt and Lahar remained suspicious.

She was grateful that they had let her go, though. The thought of being arrested and sent to ERA was terrifying, even more so when everything was finally falling into place.

Thinking back to her moment with Gray, she couldn't help but to smile. He had been so sweet, trying to tell her he felt the same and then politely asking if he could kiss her.

Juvia hadn't expected him to be such a gentleman, but it was a welcome surprise. She could only imagine how he would act if they did get together. At least she hoped this would be the outcome of the conversation they were meant to have later.

What if it isn't? She stopped in her tracks, suddenly overwhelmed by fear. Strange how she was more afraid of losing him than being sent to prison.

Another terrifying thought came. What if he finds out about Alvarez? What will I tell him?

Juvia sighed as she resumed walking along the palace gardens. She really needed to start figuring out what to tell him and everyone else about the interrogation. There must be a way to dissuade them from asking too many questions she couldn't answer.

She was about to start brainstorming when suddenly she felt a familiar presence. Stopping again, she looked ahead and sure enough there was a hooded figure not far ahead.

There was a moment of silence as Juvia stared at the figure, unsure what to do. Then, they suddenly removed their hood, revealing a familiar head of blonde hair and big brown eyes. It was Lucy.

#fanfic #gruvia #fairy tail #plot twist #alvarez empire #grand magic games #infiltrate #crime sorciere #juvia lockser #gray fullbuster #doranbolt #lahar #future lucy #jellal fernandes #ultear milkovich #meredy milkovich #answers #chapter 2

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sea-side-scribbles · 3 years

Text

Fanfiction: Sympathy For A Downer

Link:https://archiveofourown.org/works/22737214/chapters/70503588

Chapter 46

Morrie did everything to save their relationship. He really made an effort. He cared for Norbert, whenever he needed him, helped him to get through the day and endured his new personality that now dominated the entire time they had for each other. Still, he noticed how he diverged from him, how he sometimes wondered what his beloved Norrie and Nick Lightbearer even had in common. He stayed with him, maybe out of pity, maybe out of love or maybe because he couldn't forget the good old days. He couldn't help it, but he felt abandoned. Norbert didn't accommodate at all. The famous rockstar simply got stoned every day and Morrie was the one who had to get along with it.

He wondered if Norbert was really unaware of what he was doing to them.

Every time the jolly effect ceased he shut himself away. It was obvious. Morrie knew the Joy cycle very well, but instead of granting him one precious moment of honesty, Norbert rather quickly popped the next pill. Begging the completely stoned "Nick" to suspend this cycle was hopeless, he had learned that the hard way. And it was impossible to get at the sober Norbert.

He also felt abandoned by Virgil. In the end, his only advice had been to run away from all this. Virgil had no interest in changing anything. Norbert acted exactly how he wanted him to act, and to clean the mess he and the band were causing he had Morrie.

In fact, by now they were so rich, they could afford a babysitter for each of them, and Morrie felt sick thinking that eventually they would need some. Or someone to settle their disputes that kept breaking out about every knickknack. The band members squabbled with each other like children and they barely got anything done. They needed ages for their new record. Morrie doubted it would ever be finished. Concerts were still nerve-wracking business and while the others seemed to have an endless supply of energy, Morrie instead became very tired.

One day, after he had stayed for hours in his room, successfully hiding from a party, it finally happened.

He went into Norbert's bedroom, unsuspectingly, just to see if he was alright. He also ignored the two groupies in his bed, because that was none of his business anymore. When he crouched next to the bed to inspect his lover, it occured to him: the two guests were clearly male. He stared at them, unwilling to believe what he saw, then he stared at Norbert, who was sleeping so peacefully as if he wasn't aware of his guilt.

For a moment, Morrie lifted up his hand, ready to give Norbert a slap he wouldn't forget for the rest of his life. He wanted to scream, to rage, to scare Norbert to death, to chase these two traitors out of the house, and Norbert with them. But then the moment was gone and left Morrie standing helplessly in front of the bed with his hand uselessly erected.

He left the room, faltering, as if he was about to faint. In his own bedroom he let himself fall on the floor, crying and shaking.

That was what he got for caring that much, for making compromises.

Norbert didn't choose one man to betray him. No, two.

That was how much he cared about his own promise, and their love.

As always, Morrie thought.

He himself did everything to save them, Norbert did nothing, and now Morrie felt like he was suffocating. He needed to get out of this. All this madness, their life under lock and key, outside playing the sovereign rockstar and inside being exposed to this mess and keeping everything running all by himself. He felt he had suffered that long enough. He had to admit it was time to call a halt.

Kneeling at the floor, with his crying fit dying down, he made a decision. Standing up, he felt how that heavy burden fell from his shoulders. It left a void, the ruins of his dreams, and a sort of fear. Could he really walk away like that?

Sitting at his desk, his heart was racing. He gathered some papers and a pen, struggling to suppress the tears. He had to say goodbye to Norbert after all. He was afraid if he didn't make that step now, he'd never find the strength again.

He wrote the letter that sounded bitter to him. He could've been angry instead, scolding, insulting. But he felt that it would only trample on what they had shared. In the end, it was underwhelming. Their ending, sealed on a tiny piece of paper.

He felt cheap, shoving the letter through under Norbert's door. A coward goodbye, but he had to do it now, before this moment of determination was over. After packing everything he couldn't miss he sneaked along the corridor and let his eyes wander through the house he had set on so much hope.

Thinking about Virgil's offering, he finally refused. He wanted to do this on his own. Also, he couldn't risk being found by the band through Virgil. He had better friends than the manager. He would make it.

It wasn't until midday that Norbert woke up. The sun was already shining through the curtains and promised a beautiful day. He sighed quietly and happily, feeling a warm body laying next to him and an arm being tenderly put around him. So, Morrie still found the time to come over, Norbert thought. It felt wonderful, how his lover despite all that stress kept coming back to him.

We're inseparable after all, he thought, before a second later his world collapsed.

At first, his gaze fell on a shock of blonde hair that was framing a foreign face. Blinking rapidly, Norbert sat up.

"Morrie?"

He was confused, touched the face, hoped that the illusion would go away. Instead it became obvious that a male stranger was lying in his bed. Startled, he turned around to jump out of the bed and found another man, peacefully slumbering next to him.

"What's wrong luv?", the stranger muttered, jolted by Norbert's sudden movement. Blue eyes blinked against the bright daylight.

"Uh...it's nothing, my dear...", Norbert stuttered, patting the man's cheek. "Just relax, sleep some more, I'll be back."

The man closed his eyes again.

"You're a god", he whispered absently, "A real god."

"Yeah, man", Norbert said quietly before he crouched out of the bed.

His heart was pounding heavily.

He had no idea how these guys ended up in his bed but he needed a plan how to get them out of the house without anyone noticing. Especially not Morrie.

Running about in his room and searching for his clothes, he found a piece of paper on the floor. Must've fluttered off the table, he thought picking it up. Then he recognized Morrie's handwriting and froze. He read the letter, feeling hot and cold by turns.

It was so simple, and still the worst he ever saw.

"Dear Norbert,

I've tried. I've really tried.

By the time you read this letter I'll be gone.

You know why.

You've had many chances to show me that you love me.

I think you don't need me anymore.

I wish you good luck with your career.

Morrie"

"No...", he gasped and rushed out of his room, into Morrie's. He called out for him, but his lover wasn't there anymore. Instead he found the wardrobe open and half empty, revealing the plain truth to him. Norbert then ran along the corridor, down the staircase and into their spacious living room, while his footsteps echoed through the hallways.

The house was all empty.

He reached the entrance hall, ran through their picturesque front garden, to the gate and through it, until he came to a halt on the street, staring into the wideness. Wellies walked past him or stopped and stared after him, while he was running along the roads, back and forth, into every alley, until his exhausted body exacted it's toll. He collapsed, blinded by the blur of tears and hoarse in his throat. He didn't notice that he was screaming all the time.

The Wellies who surrounded him, however, did.

He felt dizzy, crouching on the floor without aim and didn't see that a Bobby approched him.

"Mr. Lightbearer?"

"Morrie...", was all he said, caught in his own world.

"Do you hear me, sir?"

"Morrie...no..."

Later, a doctor joined them and helped to carry the patient away. He observed that it had been a shock, caused by a sudden awakening from the Joy. Later, that observation helped to improve the formular. For Norbert, by that time, it meant to be treated with an extra ration of Joy. When he woke up one day later, all his memories and thoughts were imbedded in a comfy, carefree cloud of fog, that had spread itself out in his head.

For the band it meant that they quickly needed to find another pianist. They soon hired a talented musician who felt honored to perform with the Make Believes and willingly submitted to their Joy habits. Norbert was pleased with him too, since he was a big fan of Nick Lightbearer.

It was hard to think about Morrie by then, not because it hurt, but because the fog preferred to hide all the bad memories. He and the band could only feel anger, because he had left them in the middle of a tour. And that was how it came that he told everyone in the press that he had kicked Morrie out of the band, because he hadn't suited their style. Because he had been moody and unreliable anyway. It was easier to believe that explanation and later it was all he knew.

The band went on, but they soon found out they couldn't keep it up. Their constant quarrels made them fall apart, working together became more and more difficult and their new record was no big success either. The Make Believes were at the end of their rope. So they sat together to consult and decided they would make a pause, work on their own projects until they would come back together with new strength and ideas. They all agreed to that, all except Norbert, who begged Virgil for help. The manager refused to argue the band out of it, instead he offered Norbert to try something else.

A couple of days before their official splitup, him and Virgil met again to prepare what should be Norbert's new life. He would stay Nick Lightbearer, The Make Believes turned into a backup band with variable members and they performed their popular songs as if nothing happened.

The former band members were utterly surprised to hear that their splitup had rather been a change of personnel, compelled by Nick Lightbearer, who now claimed that he had always been the leader. They were out, and got no money for the songs he now played with others. Their claims were disallowed and bargaining with Virgil was impossible, he never answered to their letters.

Meanwhile Norbert felt as free as he had never felt before.

He got a makeover by no one else but Davey Hackney, the most popular fashion designer in town. With that, it felt wonderful to start new. In addition, he soon started a steamy hot affair with said designer.

And when he sometimes had doubts, when he felt like he forgot something very important, he simply popped another Joy, or harder stuff. In his new residence he threw parties himself, after making a lot of profit selling the old Make Believes residence.

Sally Boyle became a favorite guest of his. She was a popular chemist, a trend setter, and the inventor of multiple joy-bringing substances. He was crazy about her, and she was about him.

Anyway the whole town was crazy about him. They called him the Golden God of Rock'n'Roll, he was the sexiest man alive, he won a gold record after the other, they made him a honorary member in the Reform Club and he was a welcome guest in Uncle Jack's show.

He didn't hear anything from Morrie again until he read about him in the press, where he had given an interview, defaming the detested rockstar. Norbert didn't care that much, he took revenge in another article that was just as mean. Apart from that he kept shagging his fans, even married some of them. The marriages all failed, but he had no regrets.

The only fact that sometimes hurt him was the polite, but definite rejection of all his offers to Virgil. What had carefully started with a crush later dearly wanted to turn into love. By then, Virgil knew it had been Nick who had treated him with presents from time to time. Norbert now started to seriously flirt, to show his affection, but to no avail. Still, they developed a special and close friendship with it's own language. To every note with "Nick, love", Norbert always answered "Virgil, darling".

It was a lovely time until it wasn't. Norbert didn't notice it at first. His mental state worsened, he lost all sense of time, worked through multiple days and nights or slept just as long. He missed dates, because not even Virgil could wake him up anymore, he gave godawful concerts because he was completely absent-minded and the songs he was writing were dismissed as being absurd.

Long before Norbert realized it Virgil wasn't only his manager anymore, he had turned into that baby-sitter, that Morrie had feared to become. He bought him his drugs, that kept him running, woke him up or put him to bed. He provided him with everything he needed, both material and emotional support. But soon, even that wasn't enough anymore. More concerts failed, in addition he lost more money on the bills he received for all that havoc the rockstar caused while being stoned. Norbert began to feel the hate of his betrayed fans and going outside became really dangerous for him.

But it wasn't the mass of facts that woke him up from his trance. It was his Joy and his drugs that stopped to work the way they had used to. The process was sneaky. The moments of joy shortened, the nightmares became longer and the worst state, the moment of withdrawal, was the one his memories came back. At first they passed by like shadows in his mind, weird images he quickly forgot again. But day after day the images reassembled a clearer picture that began to haunt him. With increased regularity he felt he should run, as fast as he could, through the door, up the street - even though running was forbidden in Wellington Wells, screaming, because he had lost something that had been very precious to him.

In his sleep, he did. The dream repeated itself, on an on, it was persistent and didn't give up until Norbert woke up one day, with his eyes filled with tears, and a fire in his chest. His bedroom quickly lit up when his manager, alerted by the noise, stormed inside. For a second they stared at each other, both with widened eyes.

"You!", Norbert screamed, as he had never screamed at Virgil.

"It's all your fault! You destroyed our relationship!"

He wanted to dart at his manager, but the taller man held him back with one hand.

"Nick, you're having a nightmare! None of this is real!", Virgil pleaded, but Norbert didn't listen.

"You sent me these men! You told them my secret! You wanted to get rid of Morrie because he didn't take Joy!"

After fighting for a while, Norbert grabbed the first object he could reach and threw it at Virgil.

"Get out! Get out of my life you goddamn rat!"

Virgil left the house without another word, so Norbert let out his mood on his possessions. He crashed, tore apart and threw around everything he could with his own strength, enduring a long delayed loss. Between the shreds he fell on his knees, curled up into a ball and weeped, yearning for a body he hadn't felt in years. In the shreds he saw a face he didn't recognize anymore. He got up, ripped the mask off his face, the wig and the rags, and stared into his by now cracked mirror. Inside, he found nothing but a distorted grimace, a crooked body, bleeding from the cuts and covered in bruises. Appalled, he clenched his fist and broke the mirror with a blow.

Then it occured to him that he had made a big mistake. Staggering through the rooms, he called for his manager, until his maltreated body collapsed.

His missing manager later came back, out of humour and viewing the chaos. He was followed by a begging and pleading rockstar, while he seemed to be more interested in how he should pay the bill for this.

Virgil seemed to forgive him, but their closeness was gone. The manager stayed away from him, communicated via notes, that went colder despite all the "Nick, love". Sometimes he didn't see his manager for days.

He was more often alone with his painful memories. His fight with Morrie in the press shocked him. It was everything that was left of their love. It didn't help that his fanclub had currently seeked Morrie's house and demolished the facade.

His old band, former fans and critics kept telling him that he was nothing but a fraud, who was making money with a stolen name and stolen ideas, with no own talent, except for betraying everyone who ever met him. Who was lonely, without real friens, only with admirers he didn't deserve, and who soon would have to pay for everything he did.

The more Norbert remembered, the more he believed them.

His last hit was long ago, Sally didn't visit him anymore, other guests shunned him. He really was lonely and also didn't dare to go outside. He took more drugs for forget that he was about to waste away in his house that had turned into a prison.

He had never wanted to die alone, and he felt it was the worst punishment for his sins, that he was designed to end like that.

It was the nightmares that drove him out of his house at night, seeking the meaning of all this. At night, the town was calm. Soothing even. As if time stood still for him, granting him some peace and quiet. Also, his thoughts were clearer. Still, he found no meaning.

Perhaps fate had mercy on him when it sent him James. After all this time of aimless wandering there was finally someone who found him. Still, Norbert didn't believe in himself anymore. The next day, he was stoned as usual again. It would've killed him one day, if not fate had shown mercy for a second time.

And that was the moment Nick Lightbearer came back to himself.

#we happy few #whf #wehappyfew #nicklightbearer #nick lightbearer #whfnick #whf nick #morrie memento #whfmorrie #whf morrie #fanfiction #morriememento

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swanqueeneverafter · 4 years

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Sins of the Past Pt.19

Somewhere In The Forest. (After travelling through the night and getting completely lost, Richard decides to lighten Henry’s mood.) Richard: “Psst! Psst! Psst! Henry. Henry! Henry, wake up. (Tapping his chest while leaning over him:) H-Henry! Wake up! I have incredible news!” Henry: “Ugh! Is that news that you've misplaced your toothbrush?” Richard: (Laughs:) “Zinger! No. No, you know how we're lost and if we keep heading into the land of the Giants we’re liable to be trampled to death?” Henry: (Sighs:) “Yes, we discussed it last night in great detail.” Richard: “Well, I have someone here who wants to lay all your fears to rest.” Henry: (Yawns:) “All right, but it better not be that pathetic excuse for a dragon.” Richard: (Turns holding said dragon in his hands:) “Can you believe it? Imagine how our foes will run in terror! What do you think?” Henry: “I think you're a complete idiot. (Throws off his blanket, stands and begins to walk away:) You do realize that I’m further away from joining up with Ella than I was when I started?” Richard: “Well... Hey, where you going?” Henry: “To find Ella... Without you.” Richard: “What? Why?” Henry: “Because I am done. I am done cleaning up your mess. I am done telling you that it's not your fault, because... news flash, Richard... it is your fault. I'm done with your weakness, with your whining, but most of all, I am done with you!” Richard: “Okay. I admit, I'm on a bit of an unlucky streak, but I am destined for great things. You'll see.” Henry: “You have about as much chance of great things as that lizard does of breathing fire.” Richard: “It's a dragon, and it can breathe fire. Show him, Tad Cooper! (Lifts him up:) Show him. Come on. Well clearly you make him nervous.” Henry: “The perfect pair... A dragon that isn't a dragon... And a king that isn't a king.” (Henry walks away.) Richard: “Well, I am done with you, too!”

Storybrooke. Town Line. (While Emma and Regina put up a protection spell at the town line, David concludes his phone call.) David: "That was Kristoff. He, Anna and Elsa are just leaving with a small delegation for Camelot." Mulan: "I understand how Elsa is feeling, but walking into Camelot without a plan is madness."

Ruby: "Elsa has a lot of experience with not showing her feelings. Her plan is to enter Camelot gracefully in order to get Lily and Maleficent out, gracefully." Regina: "That will never work. Are we forgetting about when Elsa first came to Storybrooke? She ended up freezing half the town because she couldn't keep her emotions in check. The sight of Lily being held behind bars is likely to cause Elsa to spiral out of control and send Camelot into a new ice age." Emma: (Considers:) "That might help Morgana and Morgause cool off for awhile." Regina: (Chuckles:) "That was terrible." Emma: (Smiles:) "I know." David: (Agitated:) "You know what, I don't think you realise the gravity of the situation here.” Snow White: “David...” David: “The Queen of Camelot has put a bounty on my daughter's head. Not only that, but it appears that she's kidnapped Maleficent and Lily in an attempt to persuade Emma to turn herself in. So you’ll excuse me if I don't happen to think that this is a laughing matter." Regina: "And you think I do? You think I enjoy the fact my wife is being hunted? Or that there's some rogue knight with magical powers out there waiting to strike and I have no way of finding him? It's been tearing me up since I first heard about the bounty in Neverland. So don't you dare lecture me on how I should feel when you're the one who let Mordred go on two separate occasions!" Emma: "All right, look, the protection spell is up so that means no one is coming in or out of Storybrooke. If we want to catch this Mordred guy, we're going to have to work together. Now I know Hook and Rumple are out looking east and Ruby and Mulan have volunteered to start searching west, which leaves the town and suburban areas. So I say we all head back to town and try to live our lives as best we can for now." Regina: "Agreed." (They break up. Mulan and Ruby heading to the woods while Emma and Regina walk back to Emma's bug. Now alone, Snow pulls David aside to talk.) Snow White: "David, you have got to calm down. You can't go having shouting matches with Regina every five minutes." David: (Sighs:) "I know, but I just feel like this time things might not turn out the way we hope. No matter what she says, Morgana is out for blood. If she has any chance of winning over her people, she has to look strong. And I'm terrified of what that'll mean for Emma." Snow White: "We won't let that happen." David: (Nods:) “I know we’ll try, and I will fight with my very last breath to prevent anything from happening to my daughter. But I gotta wonder how many more chances we have left until our luck runs out."

Wonderland. (Ella and Lizard walk together down the winding road.) Ella: "You're not helping me find Will for repayment of a financial debt, are you?” Lizard: (Stops walking and removes her hat. Shrugging:) “I was on the streets. He took me in, gave me a place to sleep. Taught me everything I know.” Ella: “Well, sorry to hear that.” Lizard: (Laughs:) “Come on, I know he can be difficult, but his heart's in the right place.” Ella: “Sounds like you two were close friends. Unless wait, were you two...” Lizard: “No. Uh, no. I mean... that would never... Will and I we just ran together. You know, stealing. Sometimes for the Caterpillar, and sometimes just for fun.” Ella: “You'd rob people for fun?” Lizard: “Will kind of went through a dark period after the whole Alice in the tower thing. So how do you know Will?” Ella: “Oh, he’s helping me find my mother.” Lizard: “Your mother?” Ella: “Yes, she fled to Wonderland a long time ago. Given his experiences here I thought Will would be the perfect guide but, well, we’ve had some interesting diversions along the way.” Lizard: “Speaking of diversions, we might not know where Will is right now, but if you’re interested, I might know someone who could help you find your mom?” Ella: “Who?” Lizard: “Well, she’s sort of an Oracle. She uses these crystals and... (At Ella’s sceptical look:) yeah I know, but it could be worth a shot?” Ella: (Considers:) “How far from here is this Oracle, because Will did say we’d meet back up at Tulgey Woods?” Lizard: “Oh, well that’s perfect, it’s right on the way. So, what do you say?” Ella: “All right, you’re on.” Storybrooke. Zelena's Farmhouse. (While Zelena dotes on Maria, Regina and Emma smile at each other.) Emma: "Thanks for looking after her, Zelena. We kinda needed our hands free while putting the protection spell around the entire town." Zelena: (Replying to Emma, but speaking to Maria:) "Oh we didn't mind at all now, did we? No, we didn't." (Emma and Regina exchange looks, Emma motions towards the baby and Regina shakes her head.) Emma: (Sighs, awkwardly:) "So, um, thanks again and we'll just take her and be out of your hair." Zelena: (Finally looking up:) "Oh, so soon? It seems I hardly get to see my niece much anymore." Regina: "Well we just figured with you helping Robin out at the bar and any alone time you wish to spend with Robin Hood..." Emma: "We didn't want to impose." Zelena: "It's no trouble at all. I can take her all day if you'd like?" Emma: "Well..." Zelena: "It's just so hard sometimes, thinking about all those years I missed out on with Robin. Between Gothel's aging spell and... that unfortunate incident with some enchanted onion rings... I feel as though my time spent with Maria gives me at least a glimpse at what those precious years of motherhood could have been like." (Running her tongue across her lips to stifle a smile, Regina looks up at Emma, who realises she's being played.) Emma: "I... if you think it wouldn't be too much trouble..." Zelena: (Her attention already focused on Maria:) "I'll have her back before dark." (Under the distinct impression that they've just been dismissed, Emma and Regina make their farewells and leave the farmhouse.) Sheriff's Station. (Sitting with his feet up on one of the desks, Rumplestiltskin watches as Hook paces angrily up and down.) Rumplestiltskin: "You'll wear a hole in the floor, you know." Hook: "That's the problem! I don't know anything. I don't know if my wife and daughter are alive or dead!" Rumplestiltskin: "I understand how you're feeling. When the Jabberwocky took Belle and Gideon from me, it was all I could do not to lose my mind. But we must be patient." Hook: "Patience is not something I'm used to. Action has always been my answer." Rumplestiltskin: "Well it can't be now. At least not yet. Despite the fact that we would be crushed if we attempted to go up against Camelot's army, we don't know what capabilities Morgana and Morgause have."

Hook: "Emma and Regina can tackle any magical force that comes their way." Rumplestiltskin: "Not necessarily. Don't get me wrong, their combined magic is stronger than any I've encountered. It is far more powerful than even the Darkness could've hoped to be. But these two women, they have honed their magical craft under the Old Religion." Hook: "So?" Rumplestiltskin: "There is a reason I stayed away from Camelot all those years. The Old Religion encapsulates the entire history of magic, light and dark. It goes back even further than Merlin's time. Without truly knowing what we'd be up against, I'm afraid caution is the only correct course of action we have available to us right now." Walking Through The Forest. (Still angry about his fight with Henry, Richard trudges through the forest talking to his pet dragon.) Richard: "You can't do anything right, Richard. Everything's a disaster, Richard. You've ruined my life, Richard. That's not a real dragon, Richard. Well, you know what? Henry may not believe in you, but I do. I super believe in you, Tad Cooper. ♪ Hey, little fella, I know just what you're thinkin' ♪ ♪ Nobody gets you or sees what you could be ♪ (He walks through a field to the bewilderment of several sheep:) ♪ But pluck up your courage and turn that frown up ♪ ♪ Soon we will eat this entire town up ♪ ♪ Then they'll believe in my dragon pal and me ♪ (Richard and Tad Cooper now sitting upon a tree swing:) ♪ That's right, little fella ♪ ♪ We'll leave those doubters blinkin' ♪ ♪ We're gonna show 'em a thing or two or three ♪ (Richard now spinning in circles as he sings:) ♪ Imagine the wonder that we'll inspire ♪ ♪ When we are setting their heads on fire ♪ ♪ Then we'll be even, my dragon pal and me ♪ (Crossing a bridge, letting the dragon feel the wind blow through its... scales:) ♪ We'll rise up ♪ ♪ And open their eyes up ♪ ♪ We'll light the skies up ♪ (Back on the tree swing:) ♪ And rain destruction and death on their wives and kids ♪ (Mimicking an attack on a village:) Raar! Raar! Aah! ♪ So, when, little fella, you feel your heart is sinkin' ♪ ♪ Just you remember, one day, we'll make them see ♪ ♪ And when they are watching, completely flipped out ♪ ♪ As their intestines are being ripped out ♪ ♪ They'll all look up to us, then I guarantee ♪ (More spinning in a field:) ♪ Then they'll believe in my dragon pal and me ♪ ♪ Doo-doo, doo-doo, doo doo doo doo ♪ ♪ Then they'll believe in me ♪ ♪ They'll believe in...Me ♪ (Richard collapses contentedly onto the ground, Tad Cooper clutched against his chest, when a group of men surround him with clubs:) I must warn you... I have a dragon.”

Storybrooke. Goldilocks' Gym. (Rather than sit and do nothing, Regina and Emma decide to work up a sweat at the local gymnasium. Having sparred with Gabrielle and outrun Tinker Bell on the treadmill, Emma searches for her wife. Wandering to the back of the gym where the private rooms are located, Emma glances through each window before finally finding Regina. Entering the room, she finds the brunette doing stretches while wearing a blue leotard.) Regina: (Smiling over her shoulder:) "Good workout, dear?" Emma: (Taking a seat on the floor, wincing:) "I'm definitely gonna feel it tomorrow. (Watches as Regina continues stretching:) So this is what you've been doing, warming up?" Regina: (Chuckles:) "There's slightly more to it than that. I haven't done these kind of stretches in years." Emma: (Leaning back on her hands:) "Well don't let me stop you, I'm loving the view." (Wordlessly, Regina turns to her and, placing her hands beneath her chin in an innocent pose, begins to sink to the floor. When her elbows finally touch the ground, Regina enjoys the expression on Emma's face.) Regina: "I can't tell what's wider, your eyes or my legs." Xena: (Standing in the doorway:) "That's not so hard." Regina: (Lifting her eyebrow:) "Oh really? (Swings her leg beneath her and somehow manages to spin around into a standing position:) Care to try it?" Gabrielle: (Arriving, towel in hand:) "Xena, don't you dare." Xena: (Confidently:) "I've got this, Gabrielle." Gabrielle: "No, Xena. Don't-" (But before anyone can stop her, Xena lets out a yell, flips in midair into a somersault and lands, split legged on the floor. Emma places her hands over her ears at the thudding sound, Gabrielle covers her eyes, unable to watch and Regina covers her mouth, to stifle her snigger of laughter. With her eyes now wider than Emma's were a moment ago, Xena remains in her prone position, incapable of movement, mouth agape. After a brief moment of uncertainty, the three spectators converge upon Xena, each helping the famed warrior princess up from the floor.) Forest. (While looking at a map, Henry walks through the forest and trips over something, landing in the dirt.) Andre: (His voice echoing through the woods:) “Who goes there?” Henry: (Staring up at the men stood at the top of a steep hill:) “Oh, goodness. Giants.” Andre: “State your business, wee man.” Henry: “I'm Henry. I’m completely lost and need to find my fiancee. (They stare down at him, unmoved by his plight:) You know, I'm told your people are among the fiercest warriors in the land.” Andre: “Among? We are Giants, with fists the size of pumpkins.” Henry: “Pumpkins, good.” Andre: “And heads so big, they blot out the sun.” Henry: “Perfect.” Andre: “We love a good war. Don't we, fellas?” Other Giants: “Yeah!” Andre: “Hush! Titan, Colossus, pull him out of there!” (A giant reaches down and offers his hand, pulling Henry out of the mud.)

Henry: “This is great. Thank you so much. Hi. Henry. I'm... Hello. (He looks around, now towering over the giants:) I'm so sorry. Aren't you supposed to be...Taller? I mean, not to be rude, but you did say that your heads blocked out the sun.” Andre: “Yes, they do block out the sun. You've got to catch it at the right angle. Sorry. Can I, uh, just... Here? Uh...There. Complete darkness.” Henry: “Mm. Are you sure that you're giants?” Andre: “Of course we are giants. Just very short giants is all.” Titan: “Fee fie fo fum.” Andre: “Yeah. Well said, Titan. We will join you on your quest... On one condition.” Henry: “I’m quite certain I didn’t ask, but yeah. Go on.” Andre: “You must prove your loyalty by helping us fight our most hated enemy... The Dwarves!” Giants: “Yeah!” Titan: “Stinkin', tiny, awful, high-pitched-voiced Dwarves.” Andre: “Right again, Titan. Tonight, we meet to set the rules of battle, and tomorrow, we fight. So, what do you say? It shouldn't take long. They're only very small. (The giants laugh:) Stop laughing!” Henry: (Takes a breath:) “Yeah. Why not? I'm desperate. Let's do this.” (The giants all cheer.) Camelot. Dining Room. (After a formal greeting between the two Queens, witnessed by courtiers and common people alike, Morgana and Elsa share dinner together alone.) Morgana: "I can't tell you how much it means to me to have Arendelle's support in this troublesome time." Elsa: "Of course. Camelot is a treasured ally." Morgana: "Even so, I realise Guinevere's abdication must have come as a shock?" Elsa: "From my conversations with her, I never had the impression that Guinevere truly embraced her position as queen. She, much like myself, was thrust into the role after the tragic death of a loved one. For me, my parents, for Guinevere, her husband. Your brother." Morgana: "Indeed, but you seem well suited to the role now." Elsa: (Smiles:) "I have my moments." Morgana: "Don't we all. Thank you, by the way. For referring to my brother's death as tragic. Others I've spoken to remember him as a cold and callous ruler." Elsa: "I couldn't comment, we never met." Morgana: "Others say his death was justified, and that Emma Swan was acting in self defense." Elsa: "Again, I couldn't possibly-" Morgana: "You are friends with Emma, are you not?" Elsa: "Yes, I-" Morgana: "Close friends, would you say?" Elsa: "For a time, we were very close, yes." Morgana: "Was that before or after she became the Dark One and killed my brother?" Elsa: "I don't know what you're trying to imply but-" Morgana: "I'm merely asking if you are still friends with the woman who killed this nation's King and refuses to stand trial for that crime under Camelot law." Elsa: "From what I understand, your majesty, Arthur not only threatened Emma directly, but also her family. (Sitting a little higher in her seat:) And frankly, if you want my honest opinion, yes, your brother did deserve exactly what he got. If it had been me, I might've done the exact same thing." Morgana: (Smiles:) "There now. That wasn't so hard, was it?" Elsa: "Excuse me?" Morgana: (Chuckles:) "The one thing I remember vividly from my time in Uther's court is having keep up the pretense of propriety. It was always exhausting and I hated it. We are alone, Elsa. You don’t have to worry about airs and graces with me. I've hated my so-called brother for years for what he did to me. Of course I do not mourn his loss, but you must understand, for me to be truly cemented as Queen in the eyes of the people, his death must be avenged. Now, please tell me why you are really here?" Elsa: (Taken aback by Morgana's mercurial nature:) "I..." Morgana: "Oh come now, I know you didn't just come here to welcome Camelot's queen." Elsa: (Conjures Lily's sweater into her hand:) "My lover is missing. I used a locator spell to find her and the trail brought me to Camelot." Morgana: (Sitting back in her chair, fingers pressed together:) "I see." Elsa: "I have reason to believe that Lily and her mother Maleficent may be imprisoned here in the castle." Morgana: "Maleficent? Her powers are legendary. And you believe me capable of capturing both her and her daughter and locking them away in my dungeons?" Elsa: "Well...I..." Morgana: (Leaning forward:) "I'm not sure if you're aware, but we've had a mass breakout from our dungeons just very recently. Of those who escaped, none of them possessed any trace of magical ability. (Chuckles:) I'm sorry, but to think that I would be brazen enough to house you, your sister and brother-in-law whilst keeping your lover and the mighty Maleficent locked away in my dungeons is ludicrous." Elsa: "So you deny it?" Morgana: (Still smiling:) "Wholeheartedly. In fact, why don't I accompany you to the dungeons so you may see for yourself? (She stands, tossing down her napkin:) Come, I could do with a walk before tackling dessert."

Storybrooke. Swan-Mills House. Night. (With Maria tucked up in bed, Regina sits at the piano. Practicing a few chords, Regina doesn't see Emma as she enters the room. Smiling when Emma rubs her shoulders, Regina leans back against her.) Regina: "Ready to play?" Emma: "You have no idea." (Walking to stand beside the piano, Emma's nakedness is revealed for the first time. The moonlight pouring in through the windows highlighting every breathtaking curve of her body.) Regina: "So you weren't serious about letting me teach you then?" Emma: (Smiles, perching herself against the piano:) "Oh, I thought we might teach each other. You know it's always more fun when we both learn a thing or two." (Slowly rising from her seat, Regina seizes Emma's lips with her own. The keys of the piano playing a cacophony of notes as Emma's body is pressed up against them.) Regina: (Smiling against Emma's lips:) "I think you'll be glad to know, I've already warmed up my fingers." Wonderland. (Lizard and Ella stand at the entrance to the Oracle's garden. The Oracle herself can be seen a short distance away, her back to them.) Lizard: "Are you sure you want to do this?” Ella: “If you were granted the same opportunity, would you not want to meet your mother again?” (Walking further into the garden, Ella nervously approaches the Oracle while Lizard stays behind, watching.) Oracle: “Welcome, Ella.” Ella: “That’s... (Glances back at Lizard then stares at the Oracle:) How did you know my name?” (The Oracle turns to face her, revealing herself to be...) Morgause: “I’ve been waiting for you. I hold the answer to the question that burns inside you. I know what happened to your mother, Ella.”

#Sq #swan queen #swanqueen

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sergeant-donny-donowitz · 4 years

Text

The Final Bow (Inglourious Basterds Fic)

Requested by @baldwin-iv "Hello, hope you are well. If it isn't too much trouble, I was wondering if you could do Donny meeting an Italian nationalist who works with Hans Landa during operation Kino. Thank you!"

A/N: Changed it up a little, sorry luv, it just felt weird to make it xReader so I made an OC :)

@owba-chan @war-obsessed @inglourious-imagines @tealaquinn @struggling-bee @frozenhuntress67 @kwyloz @sodapop182

Let me know if you wanna be added to the IB or OUATIH taglists! :)

_____________________________ Renatta Castelluccio was Hans Landa's escort to the premiere of Nation's Pride. He pulled her away from the crowd, and led her to meet her counterparts. Bridget von Hammersmark's escorts.

Renatta knew exactly who they were. How could she forget the man with the scar across his throat? He dropped into her town in Italy, just before she left for Germany. Her father was a high ranking officer under Mussolini, and used her as a pawn in negotiations. She'd grown up with that regime, and believed every word of every poster and incendiary reel until she left, and saw what fascism really meant, along with the innocent blood it shed. She was contacted by the OSS, and given a chance to be a spy, and help the allies, but she feared facing a firing squad, and quickly declined. She never spoke up, not at home, and not in Germany. Renatta spent every waking moment of her life drowning in guilt, knowing what she once stood for, and what it all had led to. Still, she was smothered in fear of what would happen if she ever said a word. She was a coward, and knew she was just as guilty as the killers. Years of silence, passive smiles, and polite nods led her to this point. She could cry, beg for forgiveness from the basterds themselves, but, for what? Ruin whatever plan they undoubtedly had? "Banwjor-no." She decided once again to stay silent. She knew Hans wanted to use her to humiliate their attempt to pass off as Italians. "Graht-see."

Her eyes welled up. Once again, a pawn in a plan to fuel hate filled speeches and regimes. She tilted her head up, looking at the blood stained banners and stolen art planted there by the nazis. She knew she was no better than them. Renatta Castelluccio, an accessory to crime against her own nation, and a spineless, voiceless pit of shame and regret. Her eyes fell on Donny. He was trying his best, she knew, but his eyes were momentarily fixated on her leg, peeking through a slit in her emerald green dress. She glanced hurriedly at her escort, Hans Landa, who she despised with what was left of her soul. He'd repeatedly proposed to her, and she always politely refused, saying it was not right to marry during war. Secretly, she hoped he would die in the war, or would be charged with war crimes. He didn't notice Donny's wandering gaze, he was too busy being amused at the way they pronounced their fake names. "Margherittiiiiiiiii."

Renatta half smiled, though her heart beat in her throat, as she wished to find a way to help them, and for once do something right. Soon after Landa sent the basterds on their way. As he plotted his way into Operation Kino and a path to Nantucket Island, he sent Renatta to her seat as well. Donny lagged a little behind Omar, as a crowd of drinking nazis and half naked women merged between them. Donny couldn't take a chance and call out to Omar. It was unecessary attention. But, as he waited to make his way in, he felt a hand on his arm, pulling him back. Omar turned around, and saw. He raised an eyebrow, and cheekily smirked a little, before disappearing into the theater. He turned and saw Renatta, as she pulled Donny back, into an office away from the crowd. Donny grinned, trying to hide his nerves, "Buongio-" She shook her head, "I know who you are." "Uh... Sì...Antonio Marg-" "You're not Italian, I know..." She smiled softly, stepping closer to him, and touching the side of his cheek, "You're a basterd..." Before he could react, she said everything she had to amidst pleas and kisses. She told him all about Landa, how to go about it, "Whatever your plan is, he is the one you can not underestimate." Donny frowned, his hands around her waist, and pulled his head back a little, "Why are you telling me this?" Renatta looked down, and saw Donny pressing a gun against the bottom of her rib cage. She shook her head, "Because I have seen things that could've been pages from the Inferno." Donny had never read it, but it didn't sound good. "Things that should never be, sergeant..." Donny at that moment, looked into her eyes. If what people said about eyes being the window to the soul was true, then all he could see was a terrified one. "I once had the intention of being an informant for the allies, but I was a coward...Whenever I opened my mouth, no words came out. So all I've done for years is stand by. Stand by and-" Tears streamed down her cheek, and Donny tilted his head to the side, absolutely confused. He didn't feel sympathy. Not for a former fascist. But he wanted to listen, and make sure he could trust her enough about Landa. "I've stood by and said nothing. Sometimes that's worse than actually pulling a trigger...just letting it happen. I never said..." She trailed off, looking away in shame, patting her eyes with the back of her black satin covered hands. "Never said what?" "I never said no." He stared at her blankly, not knowing what to make of it at all, "No. Such a powerful word," She laughed softly, pathetically, as she wiped away a silent tear. "It gets you killed here, there, these day. 'No'...that could have saved at least one life. Just one..." "Why are you telling me this?" "You're a basterd, everyone that's someone to the nazis is here. You have a plan, and I want to make sure Hans doesn't stop you." "I got it.” He nodded, and reluctantly sighed, “Go, now." "Wh...what are you talking about?" Never in her life had anyone given Renatta a second chance. "If what you say is true, this guy Landa's gonna be more worried about me and the boys than where you are. You have enough time to get out, and get far away without anyone here noticing." He fully stepped away from her, let go of her waist, and lowered his gun. He had all the information he needed. Kisses and bullets wouldn't be necessary. She shook her head. No one on either side of the war would show her any kind of mercy close to that. "I'll be shot for this, no matter how this turns out." Donny sighed, knowing the clock was ticking, and that she was right. She may have just betrayed Hans Landa, but it was not enough of a saving grace outside of Le Gamaar. He took one look at her, and saw a short, unlived life. Short enough to only have known regimes and gunfire. She looked directly into his eyes, "No matter how this turns out, what I do, I will die. Let me stay." "Stay?" "Let me watch these regimes burn," She pleaded softly, and whispered, "Senza gloria..." He shook his head, "No. Go. Get to somewhere safe..." He couldn't believe he'd just said that, but he couldn't take it back now. He looked at her, that cowardly mess, and thought if she saw Hans, she'd backtrack and fess up again. To stop that from happening, he needed her out of the theater. "Don't go looking for Landa. Get it?" She smiled, for the first time in years, without her lips being pulled by strings of manipulation, "Grazie..." They went their ways, and Donny sat with Omar in the theater. Omar chuckled, and whispered, "Signorina?" Donny shook his head, trying to sound Italian as possible, "Gone-o." Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Aldo and Bridget hadn't shown up, and it was almost show time. He eased his way back out, and stood at the top of the stairs, looking down over the balcony, searching for a sign of Aldo or Bridget. Instead, he saw Renatta again. She was in the lobby, speaking to Hans. He couldn't understand what they were saying, but he understood that she didn't listen to Donny. What's more, Donny couldn't trust her anymore.

By default, he had to believe she broke down and told Hans about their conversation. The clock was ticking.

Donny and Omar didn't have time for this. He turned his back, and made his way back to get Omar so they could go on with Operation Kino. With or without Aldo and Bridget, this had to be done. What Donny didn't see was Renatta taking a stand for the first time in her life. She slipped Hans' gun out of his pocket. He looked down at her, eyes wide in betrayal, but his lips twisted, "You wouldn't dare, my love. You've always been so pathetic." As tears streamed down her face, he smirked, his hand reaching over the barel of the gun, "You wouldn't, you cowar-" One single gunshot, drowned out by the crowd and the reel of propaganda. One single bullet, tearing through Landa's hand, and straight through his skull. He dropped to his knees, and looked up at her, blood pouring through his nose and mouth in a betrayed, final gargled breath. She looked down for a few moments, watching as blood pooled out slowly, and collected beneath her heels, staining the bottom of her trailing dress. This was the first and only blood she did not feel sorry for. Renatta walked back up the stairs, and made her way to the opera box, without her escort, and without an ounce of regret. In a moment, smoke appeared, along with a face on the screen, with a message and a plot for revenge.

Renatta didn't understand what was happening. But she didn't mind. She leaned back, and smiled softly with a sigh, "Che spettacolo...." 'What a show...' She watched as regimes fell before her very eyes in a blaze, as she waited to meet her end. It came unexpectedly, in a suit, and a fit of rage.

Donny Donowitz stood before her, cornering her in the opera box, "I gave you a chance." She didn't know why he suddenly seemed to retract his mercy, but she didn't question it. Whatever anger Donny felt was justified in her eyes. So, when he shot her, she said nothing.

She looked up at him, no blame or reproach in her eyes as her blood pooled through her dress and trickled down. She took a breath, and turned away from him, and for a moment, watched the war end before her eyes. In a few moments, the entire high command was gone. Donny joined Omar back on the stairs, and were on their way out of the theater, when Donny saw a body face down in the middle of the lobby. Omar panicked, "ALDO?!" Donny shook his head, "It's not a white suit..." He ran up, and turned the body over, revealing Hans Landa's cold, dead eyes, and twisted grin. Omar looked to Donny again, "Maybe Aldo did this." Aldo would have scalped or marked him. Donny knew that. "It wasn't him..." His eyes widened with realization. The last person he saw with Hans was Renatta. It had to be her. "Go. I'll meet you outside." "What?!" Donny pushed Omar toward the exit, "I forgot something. Go, now! That's a fucking order." Omar had no choice. He walked through the smoke and disappeared. Donny ran back to the opera box, the flames nearly reaching it. "Renatta." Her eyes were beginning to close, her breathing beginning to slow, and blood pooled beneath her. Donny was about to step into the box, but she shot up with what was left of her breath, "No!" "You killed Hans. You...you didn’t lie to me, you-" He stepped onto the box, and heard a low, loud rumble as Renatta pleaded, "Stay back!" He stopped in his tracks. If he stepped over to get her, the opera box would collapse and fall into the fire below. He crouched down, "Ok, crawl to me, we still have time. We have four minutes." She shook her head, struggling to breathe. She could hardly move. There was no more time for her. "It's too late for me, s-sergeant. Don't w-wait for me." "You don't...you don't know that!" She lifted her eyes to look at him, and saw a shade of remorse. She shook her head slowly, trying to convince him, "I'll slow you down. You have time, I don't." "I'm...I'm sorry..." She shook her head again, smiling kindly at him. He could barely hear her voice over the roar of the fire, and the last few screams below, "Don't ever be sorry for what you've done here, soldier..." She gasped for a breath, "You're a g-good man." His head tilted to the side, as he spoke softly, "Renatta..." She pulled herself up, the balcony beginning to rumble lowly again. Renatta held on to the banister of the opera box, and looked over at the hellfire, watching the final few below writhe and scream, "Leave me here. There is no other place for a coward like me on this earth." "Don't..." She turned her head a little, not enough to meet him face to face again, just enough to see him out of the corner of her eye.

"Don't you understand? No matter what happened tonight, I was not going to survive the end of the war." She looked back out at the fire devouring the cinema and the high command, "Let me go," She shut her eyes and whispered, "Senza gloria... I deserve nothing more than this..."

"Renatta." "You have a minute left. Don't waste a lifetime for an inglourious moment with me." He nodded slowly and backed away from the creaking opera box. He reached the closest staircase, and looked back. All he could hear was the rumbling of the opera box, the roar of the fire, and Renatta whispering once again, “Senza gloria...” In her last moments, Renatta held her head up high, watching her impending inglourious fate approach her in silence. blood dripping down her dress, with one final smile, she watched the curtains close: The nazis' banners falling into the fire below. He left her, and made his way back outisde. He stood across the street with Omar, waiting for the grand finale. Omar broke the eerie silence as smoke began to rise above the street, "You let the Italian girl go, didn't you?" He didn’t see Donny shoot her. Donny nodded, "Yeah." Donny watched as the smoke rose, and knew that Renatta was right. No matter what he did, or she did, she was not going to live past the end of the war. No matter what happened, whether or not Operation Kino fell through, she would have been executed by the winner of the war. If the basterds failed, she would be killed as a traitor, and if they succeeded and she ran away, she’d be killed as a collaborator. She got out of it, and it was what she wanted most, to finally speak up. They watched as the cinema took its final bow, in a blaze of vengeance and ashes of atonement.

Donny nodded with a sigh, and a soft smile, hearing her voice one last time, as though it came with the wind that fueled the flames, "Senza gloria..."

#Inglourious Basterds

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beetlebitchywitch · 4 years

Text

Some Fun Bajo/Cia Angst

I HAVE REQUESTS AND I SHOULD BE FILLING THEM BUT SOMETIMES YOU GO FERAL FOR YOUR MAFIA BOYS THAT ARE IN LOVE BUT CAN’T ADMIT IT I’M SO SORRY I’M USELESS BUT HERE IT IS

See @monsterlovinghours for more info on The Conglomerate, a Beetlejuice Mafia AU

WARNING: Some soft NSFW content, internalized homophobia, herein lies pain

Cia had been around for a long time. A long time. He’d seen people come and go, seen love ignite and fizzle out in the blink of an eye. He’d seen so many men, women, amorphous eldritch horrors, that they all started to blend together in his mind. But then, his closest, dearest friends rushed into his afterlife and turned it upside down. Just like him in the most important ways, and unlike him in the most important ways as well. They were his closest confidantes, his dearest brothers in arms, his best friends, and occasionally, his lovers. He adored them with his whole heart, and they adored him back.

And then, Escarabajo came along.

It should have been the same. A new best friend, a supportive shoulder to lean on, just like Zhuk or Gio or Bee, but God was it different. From the very beginning, he was different, and Cia couldn’t stop himself from staring into those amber eyes, deep and rich like a fifth of his favorite whiskey and just as fiery, spiced like cinnamon and sweet like caramel. God, he could write sonnets about just his eyes if he were as linguistically inclined as Gio, but alas, his words jumbled around in his mind, trying and failing to put together a coherent sentence to describe just what those eyes made him feel. And when Bajo finally got comfortable around them, when he let loose, when he finally laughed, it was nearly enough to send Cia into a second grave. It was uproarious and without restraint, like a sudden crescendo in the middle of a lullaby, and if he were honest with himself, it was one of the most beautiful sounds he’d ever heard. He wanted to hear it again- he wanted to hear it every day, and he wanted to be the one to cause it. Indeed, Bajo was very different, and the others, well, the others knew it.

“Won’t you ever tell him, mon amie?” Bee asked, lounging deeply in his arm chair by the fire as he puffed away at a spicy-smelling cigar. “Watching the two of you dance around each other all day is truly starting to get old.”

“I haven’t a clue what yer talking about,” Cia retorted, broodingly sipping at his whiskey that, despite being his favorite, seemed utterly flavorless. He chose to focus instead on the storm sending heavy rains onto the roof of the estate, the windows lighting up every so often from bolts of lightning. “We don’t dance.”

“But you want to,” Bee said slyly, a mischievous grin spreading around the cigar held between his teeth. “You want to dance with him, hold him close and feel him sway in your arms, kiss hi-”

“Enough, Scarabee,” Zhuk grumbled, rubbing the bridge of his nose between his fingertips. “Let’s not push the issue, da?”

“Thank you!” Cia exclaimed with relief. “Honestly, I-”

“If Ciaróg wishes to ignore his rather obvious feelings for Escarabajo and spend the next century pining like a Shakespearean protagonist, who are we to deny him?”

The uproarious laughter engulfing the smoking room at his expense drowned out his exasperated groan as the other three could barely contain their glee. He quickly downed the rest of his whiskey and stood from his chair, bidding them all a fond farewell with a rather rude gesture before making his way out the door, slamming it behind him as the laughter only intensified. Goodness, as if this could possibly get any wo-

“Ah, mi amigo!”

...Oh Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.

Bajo strode confidently down the hallway towards him, a well-worn book in his hand and his chest exposed so perfectly with his shirt half unbuttoned, for God’s sake, Ciaróg, keep it together.

“Evenin’, mo chara,” he replied, his voice strained as they could still obviously hear the others’ laughter filtering in from the smoking room. Bajo raised one eyebrow questioningly, a smile still playing on his lips.

“What’s got them in stitches?” he asked curiously, his eyes almost instinctively traveling up and down Cia’s body for less than a second, so quickly that Cia could almost deny that it had even happened...were they right? Were they really dancing around their feelings?

“Oh, just a little too much to drink,” Cia explained away with a forced laugh, one that only piqued Bajo’s interest more.

“Ah, and I suppose that’s what they’ll tell me if I go in and ask them, hmm?” he asked mischievously, his grin growing as he saw the fear so clearly blossoming in Cia’s eyes. Ah, so he was hiding something! What an interesting turn of events for such a typical evening.

“Well, of course not!” Cia stammered, one hand still on the doorknob as if to keep Bajo away from it. “Since when does a drunkard ever tell ye that he’s drunk?”

“Hmm...I suppose that’s true,” Bajo admitted, and God, that sly little smile made Cia’s knees want to give out. “Are you alright, mi amigo? You seem...tense.”

Of course, tense could only begin to cover it. Cia looked more nervous than Bajo had ever seen him, and frankly, it slightly worried him. What could they possibly have discussed in that room that made him this anxious about him finding out? Was everyone in the estate allowed to know except him?

“Course I’m alright,” Cia said, finally pushing away from the door and regrettably closer to Bajo. God, he wanted to reach out and touch the skin exposed by his shirt, and he could feel his fingers twitching by his side, enabled by the spirits in his system to let go of inhibition, but he still managed to control himself. “Trust me, Escarabajo, you’d know if I was out o’ sorts.”

God, he was trying so hard not to crumble as Bajo’s eyes turned soft, that molten honey stare practically piercing his soul as he took a step closer. Suddenly the toes of their shoes were nearly touching, their chests merely inches apart as Bajo placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, and Christ Almighty his touch was warm, inviting, intoxicating-

“Well, you know I’m here if you ever need someone, querido,” he murmured, his melodious voice echoing repeatedly in Cia’s mind and practically swallowing him up. Need? Of course he needed him. He needed him like the living needed air in their lungs, and he felt like he was sinking beneath the waves of his touch, his voice, his kiss-

They were kissing. He had no idea who leaned forward to bring their lips together, it could’ve been both of them for all he knew, but it didn’t matter, because his lips were soft and warm against his and he could feel his little breaths puffing out across his face. The hand on his shoulder had tensed, Bajo’s fingers clenching tightly at his shirt as they remained still, lips pressed together in a simple, beautiful kiss.

Kiss.

Oh God. They were kissing.

The minute his brain caught up to the present, he was pulling away, putting at least two feet between them as he backed up against the door, his back hitting the dark wood with a dull thud as he gasped for air he didn’t need. Bajo’s eyes slid open slowly, blinking with surprise as his fingers came up to gently touch his lower lip, as if trying to figure out if that had actually just happened. Their eyes met, Cia’s full of fear and Bajo’s full of...sadness.

“Oh, Ciaróg…” he murmured, shoulders sagging as if weighed down by some unseen force. “I...I am so incredibly sorry. But I…I don’t...”

That was it. He knew it. He knew his feelings were unrequited, he knew the other dons were wrong, and he knew that he just royally fucked up. Without another word, he took off down the hallway, refusing to look back even as Bajo repeatedly called out to him, his voice desperate and so achingly sad. It pained Cia to hear it, but he couldn’t give in. He raced back to his suite and shut the door behind him, immediately leaning back against it and sliding to the floor, burying his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking with his heavy breaths. He couldn’t believe he just did that, he couldn’t believe he just did that. How could he let himself lose control like that, just kissing Bajo like it was nothing, how stupid could he be? He could feel the tears coming and stinging his eyes, a rough hiccup crawling up from his throat as he clutched angrily at his hair. He was furious with himself for potentially ruining his friendship with Bajo, and God, what would that do to the rest of the group? They lived together, what were they meant to do? It was all too much, the thoughts swirling through his mind like an anxious maelstrom, only broken apart by the sharp rapping on the door behind him.

“Mon amie, are you in there?” Bee asked softly, his voice muffled by the thick wood. Sniffling, Cia scooted away from the door and stood up, brushing himself off as he pulled the door open. Immediately, Bee was striding inside, his cane clicking against the hardwood floor. “Oh, Ciaróg…”

“Don’t,” he choked out, eyes trained exclusively on the floor. He couldn’t bear to look Bee, or any of them, in the eye, couldn’t bear to see their pity. “That...that’s what he said, too.”

“Cia, I...I’m sorry,” he said, moving over to the foot of the bed and taking a seat, patting the space next to him. Cia sighed and reluctantly joined him. “We, I, pushed you too far. I hope you can forgive us, camarade.”

He paused for a moment before nodding. Truly, it wasn’t their fault- he was the idiot who kissed his friend. He was the idiot who fucked up their friendship. Nothing the others said or did could have forced him to do that.

“It’s over, Scarabee,” he mumbled, rubbing at the wetness leaking from his eyes. “I suspect Bajo won’t want to see me again, let alone talk to me. I’ve...I’ve ruined everything.”

“Oh, come now,” Bee said, clapping a hand onto his shoulder. “He’s a reasonable man, isn’t he? So you kissed him. You’ve kissed me plenty of times!”

“Yes, but ye liked it!” he pointed out, running his fingers anxiously through his hair. “He made it very clear that he didn’t want that, that he doesn’t...feel that way about me. I didn’t mean to, I wasn’t thinking, Christ, what am I going to do?”

“You,” Bee began, poking his finger hard into Cia’s chest, “are going to go talk to him. You’re going to sit down and have a conversation like two rational, grown-up demons, and you’re going to walk away from it better than you were before. Alright? Come now, up you get.”

Bee wrapped his arms under Cia’s shoulders and heaved, pulling him up onto his feet despite his protests. Once he got him to his feet, he straightened out his clothes and brushed away his tears with a doting smile.

“There now, much better,” he said happily, giving him a shove towards the door. “Now go. He retreated to his room not long after he told us what happened.”

With a heavy sigh, Cia obeyed, leaving Bee behind in his room to make his way down the hall, going through multiple twists and turns before finally approaching Bajo’s door. But what if he didn’t want to talk to him? What if he was angry with him, or disgusted with him, so disgusted that he didn’t even want to see him? He was pulled from his anxious reverie, however, by the sound of muffled voices coming from inside the room. Did someone else seek him out the same way Bee did for him? He felt bad about it, but he couldn’t stop himself from pressing his ear up against the door to listen in.

“-nothing I can do.”

“Of course there is! You’re more powerful than you let on, mi amigo, I’ve seen your hypnosis at work dozens of time. Don’t tell me you can’t do this for me!”

“Bajo, do you even know what you’re asking of me? To rid you of your memories of your feelings for Ciaróg-”

To...to do what?

“-Would do more good for me than anything else. I...I can’t face him. Not after knowing what he feels like, I...I can’t keep it hidden anymore, Zhuk. And I can’t give in to it either. So what else can I do?”

“Bajo, you know of the nature of our relationships as well as I. Do you fear that we will judge you?”

“No! No, I just...I can’t. I can’t. It’s wrong, I’m wrong, THIS is wrong!”

If he had a beating heart, it would be thrumming away in his chest. What was...what was he saying?

“And who told you that, Escarabajo?”

“You know damn well who,” Bajo growled, his voice so clearly laden with pain. “Because she told you, too. Didn’t she?”

It was silent. Cia held himself perfectly still, just waiting for Zhuk’s answer.

“...Yes. She did. But I learned a long time ago that Juno is a wretched old bitch whose opinions on anything are as cold and rotten as she is. You can’t let her continue to control you, or what you want!”

“YES I CAN!” Bajo shouted. Cia gasped, and the room went quiet. “...Come in.”

Fuck. Knowing he’d been had, he sighed and opened the door, revealing himself to a startled Bajo and a semi-relieved Zhuk.

“Ciaróg,” Zhuk sighed, quickly walking over to him and placing a hand on his shoulder. “You...you heard all of that, yes? Perhaps you can be the one to talk some sense into him.” And with that, he was gone, closing the door behind him and leaving the two men uncomfortably looking away from one another. It was Cia who would finally speak, walking over to the fireplace to stand by the roaring flames, gazing into them thoughtfully.

“You lied to me.”

“...What?”

“You...you told me you didn’t,” Cia said, his voice already beginning to choke up again. “You lied to me.”

“I...I’m sorry,” Bajo replied softly, shamefully. “I...I couldn’t tell you.”

“Because of Juno,” Cia said flatly. He looked back over to Bajo where he sat at the edge of the bed, their eyes finally meeting. Bajo’s eyes widened a bit- his gaze was surprisingly cold. “I didn’t take ye for a coward, Escarabajo.”

“How...how dare you!” Bajo growled, fueled with a white-hot anger as he stalked towards Cia. “You kiss me, and then you run away from me, and you’re calling me a coward?”

“Aye, I am,” Cia spat, his eyes reflecting the roaring fire in the fireplace and in his belly. “You were beggin’ Zhuk to remove yer memories just to run away from how ye feel, and all because of that spiteful ol’ bitch. That makes ye a coward, and I know yer not one. I...I know yer brave, and fierce, and wonderful, so don’t you dare tell me that you’d run away from this, from me, just because of her-”

Silence. His voice was cut off by Bajo’s lips pressing insistently against his, his hands fisting in the front of Cia’s shirt as he kissed him with all the pent-up longing in his heart. Cia stilled against him for a moment, but the second his brain caught up, he was kissing back with the ferocity of an animal released from its cage. They were a flurry of lips and teeth and hands scrabbling for purchase as they fought for dominance. Bajo pulled away, panting out of sheer habit as he stared into Cia’s eyes.

“Am I a coward now?” he asked, his voice still heavy with anger. Cia felt an icy coldness shoot through him as he realized what he’d said, how insensitive he’d been.

“I...I shouldn’t have called ye that,” he replied, their lips still only an inch or two apart. “I know what growin’ up hearin’ that bloody hag spewin’ her filth was like.”

“I don’t want to think about her,” he murmured, his hands flattening out across Cia’s back and holding him as close as he could. “I...I don’t want to think about anything…”

This...this couldn’t be real. He couldn’t be here, holding Bajo in his arms, their lips so infuriatingly close...but somehow, miraculously, it was. He was here and he was real and he didn’t want to think, and far be it from Cia not to help him out.

“...Then don’t.��

And then he was on him again, kissing him with the passion he’d kept stored away in his heart for months, and before he knew it they were stumbling back to the bed, arms around each others and lips kissing any patch of skin they could find as they fell back onto the plush mattress, Bajo on his back with Cia hovering overtop of him. He cupped his gorgeous face in his hands, those fucking incredible amber eyes just staring up at him in awe as they paused for just a moment to take it all in. Their walls had crumbled, their inhibitions melted away, and their desperation was not unlike the storm raging outside, chaotic and thunderous, just demanding to be satisfied. With a rough sigh, Cia buried his face into Bajo’s neck, sucking patches of skin between his teeth and littering him with little bruises, reveling in the gorgeous little sounds he got him to make. The sight of each splotchy purple mark only egged him on further, and when he finally lifted his head, Bajo’s neck looked like he’d practically been mauled and it was perfection. He smiled brightly- he was so happy, so incredibly happy, and he couldn’t help but lean in for another kiss, taken in by how perfectly their lips seemed to fit together. His hand traveled down the front of him, settling over his cock where it tented the front of his pants, and he groaned roughly against his lips as he began to palm at him.

“Cia…” he moaned against his lips. He grinned, continuing to kiss him as he unzipped his pants and let his hand slip inside, now only separated from his cock by a thin pair of underwear. He felt him tense up a bit, so he slowed down, letting his hand drag smoothly over his cock as he kissed down his jaw once more. “C-Cia…”

God, the sound of his name on his lips was glorious, all rough and quiet. It made him nibble reverently at his skin as he finally, finally slipped underneath the waistband of his boxer briefs, ready to finally feel how his cock felt in his hand-

“Ciaróg!” he shouted, shoving roughly at his shoulders until he fell from the bed, sprawled out against the floor. Cia stared up at him, eyes widening as confusion turned to fear when he saw Bajo curl in on himself, his fingers tangled painfully in his hair. “I can’t, this is wrong, I...I can’t.” And then he was taking off, haphazardly buttoning up his pants as he fled the room, calling out for…

No. No.

Like a flash, Cia was after him, chasing him down the halls but never managing to catch up, calling after him desperately because no, he couldn’t, he wouldn’t, not like this. Bajo finally turned into the smoking room and slammed the doors behind him, and when Cia finally reached them, they were locked. He pounded desperately against the wood, ignoring the pain blooming across his fists.

“Bajo! BAJO! You open this fuckin’ door right now!” he shouted.

“Zhuk, please, you have to do it, please!”

“You don’t know what you’re asking of me, I can’t, I won’t-”

“Just try! Please, I can’t deal with this anymore, I...I love him too much, Zhuk. And it hurts...if you don’t want me to leave this estate, you’ll do this for me.”

Cia felt frozen in abject terror. The only thing separating him from Bajo was a God-forsaken door that he couldn’t pound his way through, and the longer he went with that door shut, the more icy fear took hold in his stomach. He had to get in, he had to-

“Bajo! Bajo please, you don’t have to do this! We’ll work this out together, I’ll do anythin’ you need, be anythin’ you need. Don’t...don’t give up on me.”

He was whimpering pitifully, he knew it, but he couldn’t stop himself. He’d let go of his pride and beg on his knees if he had to. He just heard Bajo say he loved him, and now he expected him to be OK with losing him? He heard Bajo make his way over to the door and his breath hitched, a sudden burst of hope melting the terror that was threatening to freeze his heart.

“Cia…” Please. Please. “...Mi amor, I’m so sorry.”

“No...no. Don’t,” he choked out, a rough, haggard whisper that likely didn’t even penetrate through the door. The fear was back as he heard Bajo moving away, back to the center of the room to meet his fate, and he began pounding against the wood with his fists, desperate tears beginning to roll down his cheeks as he begged. “Bajo, please! PLEASE!”

“Do it,” Bajo said solemnly. All Cia could hear was Zhuk beginning to murmur in Russian, a soothing phrase he’d heard so many times before, God, he couldn’t lose him, he wouldn’t lose him, please, no, no, no.

“You...you fuckin’ coward!” he screamed, his voice breaking around desperate sobs. “You bloody prick! You selfish bastard! Let me in, let me in, don’t forget about me, please, please!”

He went to pound at the door again when it suddenly opened, revealing a haggard looking Zhuk looking as apologetic as he could, with Bajo on his knees in the middle of the room, trembling as he stared solemnly at the floor.

“He...is he…?” Cia couldn’t finish his question, his throat closing around his words as he nearly started sobbing again.

“I...I couldn’t do it,” Zhuk replied, looking almost as pained as he looked over his broken comrade. “I tried, but...to remove his feelings for you would do irreversible damage to his mind. You...you’re too central, too important, for you to be removed cleanly. There’s no telling what erasing his feelings for you from his mind would do to him.”

Despite the absolutely broken man he saw before him, Cia couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief. He still had him, his Bajo, and he knew that they could get through this together if Bajo would just let him in. He moved cautiously towards him, and when Bajo didn’t even seem to acknowledge his presence, he knelt down carefully next to him.

“Bajo...mo grá...” he reached out to brush his hair away from his forehead and was met with a rough growl and Bajo slapping his hand away.

“Don’t touch me,” he snarled. He raised up from the floor and grabbed a crystal ashtray from the side table, throwing it furiously towards the wall and watching it shatter into little shards. Before Cia could even blink, he was stalking out the door, pushing past Zhuk into the hallway.

“Bajo, wait!” Zhuk called out, chasing after him with Cia not far behind. Before they could reach him, the front door to the estate was flung open, the blustery winds of the storm blowing the pouring rain through the doorway as Bajo stood in the entryway, illuminated briefly by a flash of lightning as he turned back to look them over, the look in his eyes almost apologetic behind the broken sadness before he darted off into the night.

“Bajo!” Cia shouted, rushing to the doorway to try and catch him, but the night was so dark apart from the momentary flashes of lightning that if he was even still close to the estate, he would be completely shrouded with shadow. The further Bajo moved away from their home, the more his loss seemed to settle in Cia’s heart, his entire body seemingly going cold as he fell to his knees, sudden sobs wracking his body as he cried brokenly into Zhuk’s awaiting arms, with him having knelt down to meet him as he fell. He tried to let Zhuk’s warmth comfort him, but he simply couldn’t. Bajo was gone, off to who knows where, and there was nothing he could do about it.

...Well...Almost nothing.

As he cried, he reached up and yanked at the small iron pendant hanging around his neck, tossing it out the door as a signal. I’m unprotected. Come and find me.

Because Cia was willing to do anything, work with anyone, in order to get Bajo back.

(I’m currently writing a follow up to this that’ll make things momentarily worse, and then better. Stay tuned)

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice the musical #nsft #beetlejuice nsft #beetlejuice fic #beetlejuice fanfic #beetlejuice fanfiction #the conglomerate #cia #bajo #cia/bajo #cia x bajo

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