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ijwrsmff · 3 years

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Day 4-Tree (Beetlejuice)

Word count: 1273

Unfortunately for you...you were being haunted by a demon. You knew exactly when it started too. Damn that astrology class…

You were confused by the name of a star, Betelgeuse. Saying its name three times...apparently you can’t do that. No one warned you of the consequences, and quite frankly you still can’t believe it.

Since then, this demon has been following you everywhere you went. At first...other people couldn’t see him. But as time passed, he seemed to be more...material.

He boasted about how he was the baddest demon in all the realm. He seemed more annoying than “bad.”

“Hey! Look at me when I’m talking to you! Hey! Heeeeeey!” His gravelly voice carried over from his spot...right next to you.

You were trying to study...and had told him numerous times you wouldn’t stand for being bugged when you had assignments due soon. “Beej just...one more hour. I’m almost done, promise.” You didn’t even look in his direction, now knowing from experience that he would feed into that attention.

“UUUUUUGH! You’re so boring with your...boring schoolwork.” He huffed and flopped down on the ground. So dramatic…

You continued to ignore him, and instead focused your attention on your work. Maybe if you finished sooner he’d leave you alone for a minute...yeah...like that was gonna happen.

Beetlejuice continued to whine, and pout, clearly not deterred by your ignoring him. He was a persistent demon, you’ll give him that much. “Come on, come on, come on! Hurry up and finish your dumb schoolwork already! Or else...or else...I’ll ruin your Christmas tree.”

You slowly spun at your desk, glaring daggers at the demon. “You wouldn’t dare…”

He grinned wide, a mischievous grin indeed, and he looked you in the eyes, “Wanna bet?”

Your glare continued and you stood up from your desk. He yelped and ran out of the room. You followed him.

He walked right up to your Christmas tree, something you pride yourself in. Once you got your own place, one of the first things you did when November came around was buy a glorious tree. It had store bought ornaments, homemade ornaments, tinsel, a beautiful star, and color-changing lights wrapping all around it. It was your favorite item you owned...and he was threatening to ruin it.

“Play a game with me and I won’t break every ornament on this stupid tree.” He gave you a smirk, clearly thinking that he had won.

“Stupid…? I worked hard on that and you know it. Break it and I'll find a way to send you back to where you came from.” Your aggressive words only make his shit-eating grin worse.

“One game. That’s all I’m asking.” He folded his arms and leaned back against the wall, a foot away from your tree.

“You know what? No. You’re not going to ruin my tree, I have homework to do.” Done with his “games” you began to walk back to your study room, and when you didn’t hear him follow behind you, you believed the interaction was over.

Until you heard the crash.

You spun on your heels, looking between Beetlejuice and your tree...knocked over on the floor. Ornaments broken, glass splayed all over the ground of your living room.

“Beej…” It was a warning tone, and this time...he looked scared. You jumped, sprinting towards the demon, “I’M GONNA KILL YOU...AGAIN!”

“AH!” He shrieked, running away from you as fast as he could.

It looked like a scene from Tom and Jerry, as you both weaved around the room, jumping over the table and couches, and slamming down objects to try and deter your paths.

“GET BACK HERE YOU SHITTY DEMON!” You yelled, hot on his trail.

He ran towards the tree, and tried to pick it up to hide behind it.

You both heard a “crunch” and you both stopped. Beetlejuice was trying to look around the tree to see what happened.

Looking down, you saw blood...a lot of blood.

You backed up, and tried to sit on the couch, hobbling all the way there. You must have stepped on one of the ornaments...there was glass sticking out of your foot.

“SHIT!!” You both screamed.

Beej walked over to you, figuring your reign of terror was over, and carefully grabbed your ankle. You’ve never once seen him be as gentle as he is now.

“Does it hurt?” He asked as he examined your injury.

You glared back at him, making him flinch. “No Beej. The large piece of glass coming out of my foot doesn’t hurt.” Perhaps you were being rude, but you weren’t in the mood to be nice. He was on your last nerve today. First he wouldn’t let you study, then he knocked over your prized tree, now he was asking stupid questions.

“I…” He trailed off, clearly at a loss for words. “I didn’t mean for this to happen…” At least he had the common sense to seem apologetic.

“It’s...agh.” You flinched as his fingers touched the glass, causing pain to shoot up your leg. “It’s okay. I’m not mad anymore.” You gave him a small smile (that looked more like a grimace) and tried to relax back into the couch.

“You’re not? Really?” He seemed hopeful, but also looked as if he didn’t believe you.

“I’m not...really.” You moved his hand away from your foot, pulling it closer to your body to get a good look at the wound.

It didn’t look good...the piece of glass was rather large, and based on the pain...a decent bit of it was lodged in your foot.

You sighed, and picked up your phone.

“Who are you calling?” Beej asked. His gaze was locked onto your foot. He had seen some pretty nasty injuries in his life and...his undead life. But this was an accident...he didn’t mean to let you get hurt.

“An ambulance. I think I need stitches. And you can’t drive.” You pointed out the obvious.

Looking back over to Beetlejuice, he seemed sheepish. He was now avoiding looking at you at all. Maybe...you scared him, getting hurt like that. Especially when it really was his fault.

“Look...do you want to fix this? This fight we had?” You were giving him another chance…?

“I do! I do want to fix it!” He made eye contact with you this time. You could tell he was really genuine. “Let me fix this…” He trailed off once again.

“Promise to help me decorate the tree again when I'm back from the hospital.”

That was it? You’d forgive him if he helped you with the tree?

“Done!” He grinned at you and stood up from his position.

“You better get upstairs before they get here. Don’t need to send the ambulance running screaming.” You teased him, trying to make him feel a bit better.

Funny how you were the one hurt...trying to make someone else feel better. It was just a part of who you are, you supposed.

Beetlejuice went to head upstairs, but stopped at the base. “Just...come back.”

You tilted your head, “Why wouldn’t I come back? This is my home, of course I’m coming back.”

“I mean...come back to me. I don’t want you to be upset again. I’m...I’m really sorry.” Now those words...you had never heard them from Beej before. He often did things that he should apologize for...but he never did.

“I...I will Beej. Promise.” He turned back to the staircase and ascended to the bedroom.

What a strange demon...

#beetlejuice x reader #x reader #gn reader #beetlejuice the musical x reader #beej being a jerk #25 days of christmas

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gotnofucks · 4 years

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Master of His Own Fate-2

Pairing: dark!Steve x Reader, dark!Bucky x Reader

Words: 4.3k

Warnings: Non-con/dub-con, smut, jealousy, spanking, 18+ ONLY

A/N: Probably gonna be a four-part series.

Part 1

MASTERLIST

+++++

Why did it feel like everyone had to do their shopping exactly when you had to? You’d bet it was not this crowed earlier. Or maybe it had something to do with the two super-soldiers flanking you that drew people in. You should have just ordered stuff online since this was super embarrassing. Steve’s hand was in the back pocket of your jeans and Bucky was on your other side, pushing the shopping cart with one hand while holding your waist with other. You’re sure you must have made quite a picture, a little woman sandwiched between them.

“Can you remove your hand?” You asked Steve under your breath and he looked away from the cereals he was perusing to glance at you.

“No” He answered and then pinched your ass for good measure. You jumped, your face flushing and you vowed to look at the floor until you left. You had no desire to see what other people thought about you.

“Why are they so colourful? Why can’t it be simple? There are too many!” Bucky exclaimed and you almost snorted. The cereal aisle was like wonderland for Bucky and you’d been walking back and forth here for 10 minutes now.

“I’m gonna go with this” Steve said throwing in a pack of Cap’n Crunch and you rolled your eyes.

“Then maybe Bucky can get Frosted Flakes and we can leave?” You suggested. Steve chuckled, leaning down to press an affectionate kiss on your head while Bucky took your advice and got Frosted Flakes.

“I’m gonna eat them off of you” He muttered in your ear and you bit your lip, flushing dark. You let them lead you around the store, checking off items off their list. It was so domestic you felt sick. This was not normal, and you unconsciously kept scratching your soulmark hidden under a wristband. You tried not to look at it if at all possible.

Bucky had stopped in front of the shelves containing condoms and quirked an eyebrow at you.

“Chocolate or strawberry?” He asked with a sinful grin and you wiggled until free of their holds. You had to bear their presence at home anyway, anymore and you’ll be smothered.

“We’ve forgotten the cheese dips. I’ll go get some while you finish here.” You said and turned away before they could say anything. You heard them chuckling softly behind you and willed your tears of frustration away.

Your life had changed drastically in the past few months since the night Steve and Bucky marked you as theirs. Try as you might, you couldn’t escape them, not when they are two of the most powerful and influential people in the world. You lived with them in their apartment at the compound now, and to say life was hell would be an understatement. Steve and Bucky have separate rooms but most nights you’re sandwiched between them in one bed since neither wants to spend a night away. You’d had more sex in these few months than people probably did in years.

You veered left into the sauces and spreads aisle, absentmindedly looking at the display. It wouldn’t matter what flavor you got, it would end up spread all over you and licked by your two lovers. You randomly took a jar off the shelf and were about to go back when you bumped into someone standing behind you.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” You apologized to the man behind you. His hand took hold of your elbow for a second to steady you before he stepped away and shook his head.

“It’s alright miss, not a problem.” He said with a small smile. You got a look at his face and your heart skipped a beat. He was a tall man with broad shoulders and dark hair, his genuine smile framed by a well-groomed beard. You saw his eyes dart to the jar in your hand and his lips twitched in amusement.

“I’d advise against this” He said pointing to the jar and you looked down at your hands in confusion. “While one may handle blue cheese, you don’t want to try its dip.”

You winced once you realized what you had picked and the man behind you laughed a little as he saw you put it back.

“What will you suggest?” You asked him. This was probably the only normal interaction you had had in a long time outside of work. It did help that this man was what some would call daddy.

“Oh, I am not a good cook. I just stick to the basics you know, less chances of messing up a dish.” He answered and handed you a classic cheese dip. You took it from him with a smile and thanked him. You lingered a moment, for some reason wanting to stay. It seemed like he had the same idea for even though he had picked his own jar, he didn’t leave.

“You, uh – you should get nachos to go with this. They have them on sale.” You said and internally cringed.

“Oh, alright then. Will you show me the way?” He asked and you nodded, leading him around as he followed with his cart.

“You new in the area?” You asked him since all locals knew the store layout pretty well.

“Ah yes, just moved here from Newton, Massachusetts. My name is Andy Barber” The man said and offered you a hand. Your smile vanished even as you mechanically accepted his hand and shook it. Andy Barber. AB. Like the initials on your wrist. Your hand squeezed around your wristband, your heart beating a mile an hour.

“Hey, you okay?” Andy asked and you realized he’d been speaking to you.

“Ah yes, yes I’m okay. Just lost in thought. Here we are, nachos.” You said and uselessly pointed at the display. You told yourself you were being silly, a lot of people with same initials existed. He may not even have a soulmark. Yet as you looked at him selecting his flavors, you couldn’t help but feel lighter than you had in months. You felt belonged, stupid as that may sound.

“So, you live around here?” You wished Andy would stop talking. The more he spoke, the more you wanted to stay and talk the rest of your life away with him.

“Yes, I am a doctor at the Avenger Tower.” You managed to say and saw his eyebrows raise appreciatively.

“Damn, that’s so cool” He said, and you couldn’t help but grin. “I am a lawyer, starting as a professor in NYU from next term.”

“Damn, that’s so cool” you mimicked him and you both breathed out a laugh. You didn’t realize it as you spoke to him that you were walking aimlessly with him around the store, telling him about the sites he absolutely must visit in New York and the best places to get coffee and hotdogs from. You had circled back to the spreads section and stood awkwardly facing each other.

“Uh, it may seem a little forward, but will you show me around the city?” Andy asked, fiddling with the cuffs on his shirt. You wanted him to take it off and see if your initials were tattooed in his skin like his were in yours. You were about to open your mouth when a hand wrapped around your waist from behind.

“There you are sweetie, you had us worried.” Steve’s words felt like a splash of cold water. For a few glorious moments you had forgotten your predicament, lost as you were in conversation with Andy. Your eyes met Andy’s and you saw him frown, his gaze narrowing on Steve’s arm around you and noticing how you tried to get out of it.

“I – uh, couldn’t decide so settled with the classic.” You showed Steve the cheese dip, but his eyes were fixed on Andy whose face was clouded with suspicion.

“Steve Rogers” He offered his hand to Andy, a useless introduction since most people recognized him with ease. You thought Andy would almost decline the handshake but, in the end, politely shook it.

“Pleased to meet you. Thank you for your service to the nation and the world.” His words were polite and yet there was a mistrustful edge to it. You hoped that he wouldn’t say anything and just walk away. You knew how Steve and Bucky could get about other men in your life, and right now you wanted Andy far away from here.

“Don’t mention it” Steve said preening and you took off his hand from your waist and laced your fingers together, trying to pull him away.

“We gotta go, lots to do back home. Thanks for the suggestion mister” You unnecessarily pointed at the jar again and tried to move back but Steve stood still. You were careful not to mention Andy’s name in front of him and you prayed with everything in you that this interaction would be over soon enough.

“Steve, you find her yet?” You closed your eyes in defeat and shame as Bucky walked from the other side and joined your little party. He closed in on you, hands cupping your face and drawing you in a deep kiss. You kept your eyes downcast, not looking at Andy and hoping the Earth will swallow you whole.

“Yeah, she’s was just having some trouble selecting the flavor until this gentleman here helped her.” Steve said and Bucky turned to look at Andy who was frowning harder than ever now. Andy’s eyes were searching yours, but you couldn’t let yourself meet his. Your shame and fear were profound and all you wanted was to leave.

Bucky’s eyes moved from Andy to Steve to you and he straightened, his arm curling around your shoulder, hand resting near your left collarbone just inches away from the scarred initials of him and Steve.

“Thank you, our girl here can be a little iffy when it comes to food” Bucky remarked affectionately but his emphasis on ‘our’ was not lost on either of you.

“Not a problem.” Andy finally nodded and took hold of his cart, ready to wheel it away. You almost sighed in relief, but your heart broke a little when he started retreating. Your eyes met for a brief moment and it seemed as if he would stop but then you looked away and he continued moving.

“What are we going to do with you Y/n?” Bucky muttered once Andy was out of sight. They didn’t care they were in a public place, both of them standing almost on top of you.

“I don’t know what you mean” You whispered and felt Bucky’s metal hand tighten over your arm. You hissed and tried to pull away but found your chin being raised up to face him with rough hands.

“Do you want another lesson on how to behave around strange men?” Bucky asked and your eyes widened, head shaking in negation.

“No, no Buck. Please, nothing happened. We were just talking” You begged, trying to convince him. You watched in horror as one of his hand outright cupped your left boob, fingers splayed so they pressed into the scars over your heart.

“You sure? I can show the whole store who you belong to my love.”

You were ready to start bawling when Bucky started fiddling with the neckline of your top, but it was Steve who saved the day. He gently pried Bucky’s hands from you and tucked you under his arm, pushing your head in his chest with a hand while the other kept Bucky away.

“Not here Buck, look at her. Honestly!” Steve started a swift walk towards the exit with you at his side and you couldn’t help but look back. It was one of those situations where you found the precious thing lost within a sea of garbage when you spotted Andy, his eyes not on you but your arm. You followed his gaze and suppressed a sob as you saw your wristband had shifted after your struggle with Bucky, bringing into view the initials that made your soulmark.

ASB: Andrew S Barber

You didn’t know his middle name but you couldn’t be any more sure of who your soulmate was when Andy’s eyes darted to his own covered wrist the moment Bucky shouted, “Steven Rogers and Y/n Y/l/n you both come back here this very second!”

Bucky was getting your stuff checked out, standing at the cashiers with his grumpy dad face on. Steve ignored him and continued dragging you away towards the exit. Your eyes watered and you tried to stem their flow so you could have one last glance at Andy without tears blurring your vision. You both stared at each other and just before you walked out the doors, even from the distance you saw Andy mouth a promise:

I will come for you

+++++

Fate was a cruel bastard, and you cursed your destiny as you lay curled in Steve’s lap after dinner. No one spoke much once you got home but you knew it was only a matter of time before shit hit the fan. You were wearing a short nightie, Bucky’s favorite and Steve’s hands were absently massaging you as he read through a new mission briefing.

“Wanda was asking about you again” Steve said, and you blinked at him. Just another thing you loved that they had snatched away from you. Wanda was obviously very suspicious when you announced you’ll be shifting from your apartment to Steve and Bucky’s since she knew you wanted to wait for your soulmate to show up. You would have confided in her had you not been aware of the damage your lovers could cause if displeased. Bucky had strictly ordered you to keep away from her until you were in control of your thoughts, which he was afraid Wanda would read. You had looked to help from Steve, who was softer out of the two, but he agreed with Bucky, “Better she not know anything than us having to eliminate her if she did.” They talked of death and violence with such ease it made your skin crawl.

“Can I see her now? I don’t think my texts are keeping her satisfied.” If only you could get a few hours away from their stifling presence maybe it would be more tolerable. The both of them clung to you like a babe to his mum, and your only respite were the hours you spent working.

“Do you think you’re ready to see her now?” Steve questioned you, finally looking up from his mission briefing. Before you could answer Bucky came behind you and plucked you from Steve’s arms like you weighed nothing and perched you in his own lap. Steve rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything.

“The better question would be if you think you deserve to see her.” Bucky commented, his hand fondling your behind under the silk nightie. You shifted under his touch and gaze, uncomfortable under the stern look.

“I’m minding my thoughts, I promise.” You whined and Bucky’s hand cracked against your ass suddenly. You squealed and he held you down with one hand, the second blow even harder than the first.

“You and I both know that’s not what I meant. I don’t like it when you act dumb.” Bucky snarled and you flinched as he raised his hand again. To your surprise, the slap barely had any force behind it and Bucky rubbed your ass softly as if in apology. You turned your face to peek at him and saw him and Steve locked in one of those silent eye contact conversations that you absolutely loathed. Steve was almost glaring at Bucky as if displeased and Bucky had enough grace to look a little ashamed.

“I wasn’t!” Bucky cried out suddenly, throwing his hands in the air and huffing. It was as if they were continuing a conversation that went from telepathy to verbal and your mouth parted in awe when Steve continued speaking too.

“You would have if I didn’t stop you.”

Your gaze moved from one man to another, confused beyond measure. In a flash Bucky was gathering you in his arms, holding you to himself like he was afraid papa Steve would take away his favorite toy.

“I know my limits Steve. She’s mine as much as yours. Stop it.”

You were sure if you tilted your head up you would see Bucky pouting but instead you observed Steve who was in classic captain pose with hands on his hips and disapproval on his face.

“Do you really? Because it sure seemed like you were about to strip her naked in a supermarket of all places.”

“I wouldn’t! I was teasing her.” Bucky said, his head buried in your neck. He took your hand and placed it on his head and you slowly scratched with your nails, making him purr in satisfaction. Steve didn’t look the least bit convinced and his eyes kept bouncing between you and Bucky. Finally, he heaved a deep sigh before getting up.

“She is sleeping in my room tonight.” Your head snapped up just as Bucky’s hold tightened around you in rejection of the idea.

“No, you can’t take her from me.” Bucky snapped and you resisted the urge to slap them both. It bothered you how they went on talking about you like you weren’t even present here.

“I’m not taking her away from you, pal. Just like she learns her lessons when she fucks up, so will you.”

Bucky didn’t look like he would want a lesson, but it didn’t seem like the first time they were having this talk because he said nothing more. He almost didn’t let you leave when Steve took your arm to take you away but finally relented.

“When can I have her back?” Yep, he was definitely pouting.

“When you learn that teasing is pinching her ass in public, not stripping her bare in front of strangers.”

+++++

It had been a while since there were two people in bed and not three. You stretched your feet out, glad to have some extra space. Even cuddled up in Steve’s massive arms, your thoughts returned to Andy. You had finally found him after years of searching, only to lose him on the same day. It was a cosmic joke to have you cross paths now when it was too late to do anything. Your hand unconsciously traced the letters on your wrist, a slight thrill running down your spine as you finally realized what and who these initials stood for.

It wasn’t just a legend anymore. They were right when they said that soulmates completed you. In those precious few moments you had spent with Andy, all your worries had fallen away. You both had built a bubble around yourself where the outer world was nothing but a distant blur and you saw only each other. Conversation didn’t sound strained and you felt so connected despite having just met. You wished you knew he existed a few months ago. How different would life have been then if you were laying in his arms and not Steve and Bucky’s?

You bit your lip when you felt Steve take your hand in his from behind you, his fingers too tracing the initials on your wrist. You stiffened and held yourself back from snatching your hand away. It was never a very good idea to resist when it came to them both.

“Bucky doesn’t know yet” Steve murmured in your ear as he tapped your wrist. You felt your heart drop in your stomach, your fingers curling in your palm. “He thinks it was just some man you were speaking to. His jealousy makes him sloppy and he doesn’t notice details.”

You were turned around to face him, your eyes locking on Steve’s which were a vibrant blue even in the dark. His hands played at the hem of your nightie, teasing it.

“I noticed of course. How could I not, I have never seen you smile the way you smiled at him” You didn’t seem capable of speaking or protesting when Steve’s hands slipped up your clothing and caressed your thighs and belly. His hands were moving but his eyes were fixed on you and try as you might you couldn’t look away. Slowly, gently like one does to precious cargo you were stripped, your body baring itself inch by delicious inch. The calluses on his fingers rubbed against your nipples and you let out a moan, your slick coating your walls and thighs. Your lips met his in a desperate kiss and you couldn’t help but make pathetic mewls as his tongue raced across your throat. He came to rest above your heart, tracing the scar over it. JBB and SGR

“How are these any different to those on your wrist?” He questioned as he entered you slowly, looking deep into your eyes like trying to search your soul. “If we carve your name on our body, would that make you look at us like you looked at him?”

You couldn’t answer if you wanted to, the heat of Steve warming your insides. You met in a familiar dance, bodies slapping, and moaning together until pleasure took over every cell in your body. Steve pulled out and released on your thighs, rubbing his essence in your skin, his breath warm on your cheek.

“I don’t think I need to tell you what will happen if I find you talking to that man again” It was not a question and you shook your head, tears travelling down the sides of your face and getting lost in your hair. “Good girl. We can forget it and Bucky will never know. Because if that happens, even I won’t be able to help you.”

You reminded yourself that Steve was just as much of a monster as Bucky was. He had taken you against your will too, and while he may as well be the lesser of the two evils, you could not trust him. You turned to your side, automatically curling into Steve out of habit when he held you. That is what this relationship felt like. A habit. It was a routine you were stuck in with no way out. You closed your eyes, seeking the escape of sleep and tried to sooth your broken heart over a love it may never find again.

+++++

Bucky was a terrible stalker and you wondered how he remained a ‘ghost story’ for all those decades. Steve had been hoarding you in his room for nearly a week and you knew Bucky was at his wit’s end. He wasn’t even pretending to hide anymore; he’d just stand across the med bay and ogle you like a roadway creep. You didn’t even know what to do, who should you listen to. Being caught in the crossfire between them is not fun.

You finally had enough and made your way over to him. You were a few feet away when he snatched you in his arms, crushing you to his frame and kissing you soundly. Pulling away, he put his forehead on yours and bit your lip.

“I’ve missed you baby.” He cooed and you sighed.

“Is that why you’re lurking here and scaring my nursing staff away?” Bucky nodded, pecking your lips once more before you moved away.

“I’m sorry about the other day you know. I just…lost control.” It was rare that he would apologize, and you were too smart to reject this small consolation. He will probably be kind and soft for the coming few days and you took what you can. You smiled at him, promising him you forgave him.

“I have just one public hour and then we can go home together. Sounds good?” You asked and Bucky’s smile was almost shy when he agreed. Sometimes you believed it when they say they loved you, but how can someone hurt whom they love?

“You asked me once what I see in you, but have you ever looked at yourself the way I look at you? Here you are, one of the most accomplished doctors working for the Avengers, and yet you give your time to general public to treat their common cold and flu. That’s what I see in you. Your kindness, that light, it guides me away from the darkness in me.” Bucky confessed and you looked away from him. He could be so sweet when he has to be. Both him and Steve. You wonder again if they could always be like that, will you be able to love them.

“I – uh, I’ll see you in an hour, okay? Wait in the common room for me.”

You watched Bucky go and returned with a perturbed mind. The hot and cold behavior almost gives you a whiplash. In the past few months, you have spent several nights crying, but just as many moaning in pleasure. Maybe it could have been easier if you’d given in and just accepted them, but love does not come by force. They can carve their names in your skin a hundred times over, and yet it won’t leave a mark on your soul.

Your assistant entered, informing you that general patients were waiting for you and you nodded. Tony gave you an hour free every day to treat patients outside the tower for free. You believed being a doctor your job should be more than saving just superheroes. One by one your patients trickled in, most with common diseases. Some you prescribed for additional testing; all costs covered by the Stark Industries.

“Your last patient ma’am”

You nodded to let your assistant know you heard her and entered the room. You were looking over a report as you entered, the door shutting itself behind you automatically.

“Hello, how can I help you today?” You looked up and the report fell out of your hand. Sitting in front of you was Andy Barber, his eyes crinkled at the sides due to the wide smile he supported.

“I believe I have a heart problem doctor. A beautiful lady stole mine.”

+++++

Taglist is open for all characters

#dark!steve x reader #dark!bucky x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!bucky barnes #steve x reader #bucky x reader #andy barber x reader #andy x reader #soulmate au

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cynergy-laughter · 4 years

Text

Obey Me! One Master to Abridge Them All! Ep. 4

4. For the Record, T-Pose to Assert Your Pact

It was just a normal, second day for MC... until...

Asmo: PPFFFFTTTBWAAAHAHAHAHA! *gasp* AAAAAAHHAHAHAHAHA!

Satan: Asmo, can you not laugh so loudly this early in the morning?

Asmo: B-Buhut... Mammon... got tricked... into entering a pact! And with none other than Enn!

Satan: Pffftt!

Asmo: Boy, you think it’s funny too, don’t even try to hide it!

Beel: Mmm, these cockatrice breasts are so crispy, every bite gives me a wonderful crunch.

MC: Is no one gonna tell him that he’s also eating the plate?

Asmo: Don’t tell him, it’s more entertaining that way. But look at you, not even a day in the Devildom and you already snagged a pact with a moron, I bet you feel like a ruler, don’t you, Enn~?

MC: No, I feel exhausted. The whole time after we made the pact, he kept on texting me, and it was basically, “Just so we’re clear, I did it for my credit card. She’s my one true love, you better not come in between us.”

Satan: Ugh, the way he talks about that thing.

Asmo: I wouldn’t be surprised if he imagines making love to it. Gross...

Levi: Imagine? He absolutely does. Headcanon accepted.

Asmo: What does that even mean, Levi...?

————

Asmo: Anywho, Enn, who would you wanna make a pact with next?

MC: ... You want my honest answer?

Asmo:

Satan:

Levi:

Beel: *munching*

MC: I thought not, I wanna pact with Asmo. *flutters eyes*

Asmo: Haha, I mean who wouldn’t? But I wouldn’t with you because I have no intention in entering one with you.

MC: Oh neither do I, I just wanted to see the look on your face when I chucked the Grenade. I checked RAD’s last yearbook, I wanna pact Astaroth. He can get it.

Asmo: *jaw drops to the floor*

Satan & Levi: *snort and bit their lip*

Beel: *eating* Can someone pass me the Poison Oak Maple syrup? I wanna try adding sweet to this savory.

*interview*

Asmo: Enn thinks they’re so funny. Have they even met Astaroth?! Cause he used to be my ex. He is the absolute worst... I may miss him, but I don’t really... and plus what is Enn doing, having sights for my ex?!

MC: I’ll admit, Astaroth is pretty intimidating, but he’s seems cool. Especially for a mid-rank demon. For the record, I just said Astaroth to get under Asmo’s skin... and based on his reaction, I think I just made a pimple start forming on his forehead.

————

Asmo: PSSH PAH PIH PFFTT W-Whatever! He’s not even that hot anyway.

Satan: You sounds like you still caught feelings.

Asmo: Shut up, you sound just as moronic as that poor excuse for a demon Mammo-! *head gets slammed into his bowl of cereal* ACK! MY FACE! What the hell Mammon?!

Mammon: Shouldn’t have been talking smack, Asmo. Don’t forget, I’m still your older brother.

MC: Good morning Mammon.

Mammon: Go to heaven, Enn.

MC: Would have been funnier if you meant heavenn.

Mammon: Whatever, point is, I got my card back from Lucifer. Mammon one, Lucifer nothing, like it should be. Think he’s so smart to put my card in the freezer, he’s such a dad.

Lucifer: *appears behind him, holding a leather belt loop, and he snaps it loudly*

Mammon: ... AAAAAIIIEEEEEEEEE!!!

———— Later ————

MC: *walking down the stairs with Mammon* You ever think that maybe you should practice what you preach?

Mammon: *sniffling, rubbing his butt* “yOu EvEr ThInK tHaT mAyBe YoU sHoUlD pRaCtIcE wHaT yOu PrEaCh?!” S-Shut up, human... preaching ain’t gonna do nothing.

MC: First of all... wow. And second... Enn... my name is Enn.

Mammon: I don’t care, human! I’ll call you whatever I’ll feel like calling you. You’d better watch your back, because if a lesser demon decides to make you his meal, I won’t be there to save you, cause I couldn’t care less! Now out of my way! *goes to stomp down the stairs, bumping MC out of the way*

MC: ... Mammon stay! *voice pulsates through Mammon, making him stand up straight and not move!*

Mammon: A-Ah! What the- I can’t move... You better hope I don’t get out of this huma-... hummm... hu... NB. No! Huuu-better work, everybody give it up for the supremely talented host with the post, dropping lines since birth, life and debuting in the Devildom, give it up for MC NB! *makes air horn noises*

MC: *smiles* That’s better. Next time, just respect my wishes and call me by my name. Now, Mammon, let’s get to class.

————

*walks into class*

MC: With as many demons dancing in this place, you would think that this is was High School Musical: Another Story.

Demon1: Hey, it’s that human who slapped us.

Demon2: I wouldn’t mess with them, I heard Mammon forged a pact with them... imagine what he could do to us, if the human is ballsy enough to slap us...

???: Well, it seems rumors do spread faster than a glorious opening speech. You really have made quite a celebrity out of yourself.

MC: Sebastian from Black Butler?

Diavolo: Easy Barbatos, no need to be shady, I say these rumors are good, it means eyes will be on them at all times, so no one can really truly make a move.

Lucifer: Especially since Mammon is absolute garbage at looking after them.

MC: And a good morning to you all too, Mr. President, Mr. Vice President, and Mr. Chief Secretary. Nice to see you talking about me like I’m not here.

Diavolo: I wanted to congratulate you on such a big accomplishment, and it’s only been your second day. I knew that I chose the right person for the program.

MC: Well, it’s not like a had a choice in the matter, but thank you, Lord Diavolo. And who is this?

Barbatos: I’m Lord Diavolo’s steward, Barbatos. Apologies for not introducing myself immediately.

MC: It’s okay, it’s nice to meet you.

Lucifer: Barbatos is a very smart and powerful demon of many talents. I just wish I could have him as my brother instead of Mammon.

MC: I mean, people tend to keep their talents deep within them, I’m sure it’s the same for Mammon.

Barbatos: I believe there’s a saying in the human world about that, a true wiseman doesn’t flaunt his talents, he keeps them secret.

Lucifer: That may be so, but he, is to put it lightly, an incompetent fool.

MC: Well... looking at all the idiots that make up my world’s population, Mammon is pretty tame and intelligent...

*interview*

MC: Seriously, I used to work retail, someone asked me for Pampers Pull-Ups while I was stocking the baby aisle... lemme say it again, the person asked for Pampers Pull-Ups. That’s the same energy as someone asking for Burger King’s Big Mac. It doesn’t exist. There are Huggies Pull-Ups, and Pampers Easy-Ups, if you are looking specifically for Pampers Pull-Ups, you don’t deserve the right to teach children right from wrong.

————

Diavolo: I also heard that the most stubborn and headstrong child is the cutest.

Lucifer: Diavolo, he is my younger brother, not my child. I think I would have a lot more gray hairs and as Asmo would say a few more lines in my forehead. Stop it.

???1: So you don’t deny that he’s cute. Though the winner of the most stubborn award would most undoubtedly go to you.

???2: And for the record, that’s not a compliment, it’s an insult.

Lucifer: Simeon, can you please tell your little chiweenie to not yip so loudly this early in the school day?

???2: I am NOT A CHIWEENIE!

Diavolo: Enn, these are the two students from the Celestial Realm, in other words, angels. This is Simeon, and his canine companion Luke.

Luke: Diavolo, do not feed into this! I am an angel, not a canine of any sort!

MC: *going over to Simeon fast* Oh thank the heavens, finally some angelic melanin. *shaking Simeon’s hand* it’s so nice to meet you, I’m already a stan, I mean a fan.

Simeon: *chuckles* It’s to meet you Enn, congratulations on your accomplishment, I hope we make friends of each other yet.

Barbatos: We should get going, the first bell is about to sound.

MC: B-But... I wanna hang out with Simeon some more...

Diavolo: All in good time, Enn. I’m glad you’re doing well here on your second day here. Have a good school day.

Lucifer: Even though it should be the other way around... look after Mammon for me, Enn? I thank you.

Simeon: I’ll see you later, Enn.

————

Luke: *stays behind* ...

MC:

Luke:

MC:

Luke:

MC: Can I help you?

Luke: Don’t ever trust a demon, especially not Lucifer.

MC: ... Where I live and grow up, you learn to not really trust anyone, but thanks for the advice, Lassie.

Luke: ARGH! Not you too! *storms off*

23 notes · View notes

septic-skele · 3 years

Text

UT - Acceptable Risk

Summary: “Can Surface cars fly?” little Papyrus had asked once. Sans had concocted stories that left him in awe, fantasizing about how car doors transformed into wings.

It was almost horrifically beautiful, how far the impact sent him and Papyrus now. They soared, wind behind them, frozen in an instant.

Ever since he was a baby bones, Papyrus had always had a fascination with cars. Whenever Sans fished a torn, crumpled human car magazine out of the dump, they would curl up on the couch together and Papyrus would “ooh” and “ahh” over the many shapes and styles. He would pepper Sans with so many questions about them—how they ran, how fast, how far, not even caring that most of Sans’ answers were made up.

Sans would never forget the day he had lugged that racecar bed up the stairs piece by piece, his giddy brother already clambering in when it was only half-assembled. If Papyrus were a lazier monster, he probably would have stayed in it all day just to enjoy the daydream of driving it. When it was eventually finished, he put on a “car show”, inviting all of their neighbors over to admire it.

(Nobody came, but Sans spent the afternoon helping him polish every inch of the worn plastic, just in case someone showed up tomorrow.)

Papyrus had brought the bedframe with them up to the Surface, but in truth it didn’t hold a candle to the real deal. From the moment he guided that real, shining prize into the garage, it was his baby. He didn’t need to invite people over to see it (though he still did, out of the kindness of his soul.) He could go out on the town anytime he liked.

“Did you see, Sans, how that human was ogling my glorious transport? My car is popular—and by extension, I am!”

“Yeah, bro. You’re pretty revv-olutionary.”

Papyrus had subscribed to as many car magazines as he could get his hands on; they piled up on the front porch like extra doormats. Sans had perused them as well from time to time, intrigued by the machinery.

Now…Now they all looked the same: blurs of shapes and colors, fancy titles and unintelligible descriptors that didn’t matter.

___________________________________________

They had taken the car out for a daytrip, meeting up with Undyne, Alphys, Toriel and the kid. Perfect, clear skies hung overhead, vibrant blue melting into the ocean’s sparkling reflection. Undyne was a natural surfer and Papyrus…tried really hard. Alphys collected buckets’ worth of shells and Toriel’s white fur turned sandy brown as the kid built a castle around her. Sans napped in their pile of towels.

It’s a beautiful day outside.

Late afternoon, they had packed up and gone back into town, briefly separating. Pap, Tori and the kid stopped in a little shop, looking for groceries to make up dinner tonight.

“Meet me back at the car, Sans,” Papyrus instructed, waving a dismissive hand goodbye. “I won’t be long!”

It wouldn’t be long.

Though he was worn out by the day, Sans didn’t mind making small talk with Undyne and Alphys as they walked—more so with Alphys, as Undyne kept getting ahead of them without considering their shorter strides. Every so often she would notice and groan, bounding back toward them with a threat that she would carry them if she had to. She didn’t make good on it, considering the bags of beach supplies already in her arms.

“At this rate the others are gonna beat us there!” she complained after a while, going unheard.

Alphys was easy to talk to; Sans could listen, making an occasional hum or grunt of acknowledgement, and her natural instinct to fill the silence could carry the conversation for him before it got awkward.

“…So then Mew Mew realized that she didn’t have to be the d-damsel in distress anymore. With the power of her friends beside her, g-giving her courage, she could be the champion who stands up f-for the other kittens in the school who were being bullied!”

As usual, Sans couldn’t help but give in to impulse, nudging her with one shoulder as he quipped, “I’ll bet with that wand of hers, she makes a fur-midible hero!”

Alphys faltered, sputtered in disbelief, and then couldn’t help but break out in a grin. She must have been hanging around with Undyne a little too often; back in the Underground, she never would have had the courage to nudge back. Now she did, pushing him playfully off the sidewalk with a giggled, “Stop that!” He didn’t fight it, smirking as he shoved his hands into his pockets and strolled alongside the curb.

He spotted Papyrus and the others across the street just a few minutes later. True to Undyne’s prediction, they had caught up quickly. As he cut across to join them, he was already setting it up in his head, getting ready to tell Papyrus that he was outnumbered now that even Alphys laughed at his puns. Pap couldn’t argue with popular opinion!

The chance didn’t come. A burst of light blinded him as it careened in from his right, screeching tires almost drowning out Papyrus’ scream of “Brother!” Sans barely had enough time to turn and see. The car was there, it was right on top of him—and so was Papyrus, slamming between him and the hood. Groceries hurtled across the asphalt.

“Can Surface cars fly?” little Pap had asked once. Sans had concocted stories that left him in awe, fantasizing about how car doors transformed into wings.

It was almost horrifically beautiful, how far the impact sent him and Papyrus now. They soared, wind behind them, frozen in an instant. Then the crash landing made Sans, frankly, regret being born. His jacket padded most of his body, but his skull bounced and then scraped against the pavement as he rolled, legs crunching sideways on the curb. With a punch of agony, his eyelights blacked out.

When the world spun back into existence around him, excruciatingly loud and bright, he couldn’t even cry out. His ribs constricted hard around his soul in a ragged gasp. Gradually the kid’s face swam overhead, white with terror as they clung to him. He couldn’t quite grasp what they were saying through the shrill ringing, but he recognized the sensation when he was checked.

HP: 0.8 / 1.

The crushing pain in his skull urged him back toward oblivion, black fingers dragging at him, but a desperate shout was enough to pierce the encroaching fog. “Papyrus!”

Papyrus.

Panic sent a white-hot jolt through him as he flailed violently, helplessly. The kid knew instantly what he needed, grabbing his nearest arm and digging in to help him get up. As soon as he was half-upright, one of his legs splintered underneath him and he couldn’t help but scream, crumpling sideways in the gutter. 0.7 / 1.

The kid pressed their hands to their mouth, bursting into tears at the sight, but it didn’t matter because now that he had shifted, he could see. Through the blurry, disorienting haze, he made out the swarm of onlookers several feet away.

Alphys was calling someone for help, her pleas unintelligible through hysterical sobs. Toriel was fruitlessly trying to usher the crowd back with one hand, the other already aglow with healing spells. Undyne was on her knees, howling, torn between shielding and shaking the prone form in her arms.

“Papyrus! Papyrus, can you hear me?! Wake up, please! T-That’s an order!”

No.

Dust was leaking from broken bones onto the asphalt.

Scattering under the humans’ stamping, shuffling feet.

Sans was in no shape to crawl, much less tear a hole in reality, but it didn’t matter. Everything went blank for what felt like an eternity and then he was there, collapsing into Papyrus’ chest, quaking in the effort not to bring up ectoplasmic bile with his slurred prayers.

“Pap, no. Not now, not like this—Can’t, s’posed to stay this time, s’posed to keep this one.”

“Sans, what are you doing?! Get off of him! He’s wounded, he needs room!”

With a low, strangled moan, he mashed his cracked face into the folds of Papyrus’ scarf, defying. He couldn’t feel a soul beat through it. “S’not happening this time, not gonna let’cha go.” Scuffed fingers dug hard into the curve of his brother’s skull. “Stop it, stop it now, stop doin’ this to me, I thought we were done—” The grip trying to pry him off felt cold, miles away, but the pain brought on by every tug and twist was immediate. He gagged, choked it down. “M’right here, Papy. You stay, you stay with me!”

“Sans, my friend, you must step aside for the healers!”

“Never got to hold you through it last times, ’least gimme a goodbye, y-you stupid—” His incoherent stream of supplication ran dry when Papyrus spasmed feebly, jaw splitting in a croaked struggle for breath. Wet heat spilled down Sans' face—tears or blood, he didn’t know, but dust smeared and stuck to his damp cheekbones as he was dragged out of the way. “Not again! Stars, please, not like this!”

___________________________________________

There were car magazines stacked on Papyrus’ bedside table. The doc had suggested reading to him, letting him hear Sans’ voice. Maybe something familiar would “coax his consciousness out,” or whatever.

Sans didn’t bother trying. He didn’t stir, fractured skull resting against the hospital bed rail, fingers laced through his brother’s.

Papyrus was always dust by the time Sans reached him in Snowdin. If he was going to be taken again, if this coma whittled him away piece by piece, Sans would be damned if he didn’t hold him through it.

As he waited for the inevitable, the world still turned around him through the hospital room. Flowers and balloons and cards appeared, along with plates of spaghetti. Amateurs, thinking they could get it right.

Undyne railed, raved and ranted, even after the reckless human driver was prosecuted. Eventually she gave up on words and punched a hole in the wall. Toriel, always the peacekeeper, covered the damage with a framed photograph of friends and family.

Alphys came just once to beg for forgiveness, because she’d twisted the whole thing up to blame herself somehow. Something to do with being the one who’d pushed Sans into the street. It didn’t really matter. Sans didn’t acknowledge her and she didn’t come back.

Asgore appeared. He said something about knowing loss, about how it felt like the world was ending when his children were taken from him. He offered to be a listening ear if Sans ever had need of it.

There was only one thing Sans needed. Not that.

Asgore didn’t need to bother. Alphys didn’t need to be blamed. It wasn’t even Papyrus’ fault this time, with his unending faith and trust and naiveté.

Sans had stepped out. Sans—with full knowledge of his 1 / 1 HP, with full knowledge of a brother who would do anything for him, with full knowledge that this world was always, always, always stacked against him, coded to make him suffer—had stepped out anyway. The wise, discerning, forethoughtful judge had gambled and deemed jaywalking to be an acceptable risk. It may as well have been a suicide attempt.

Flowey, Chara, Gaster. They hadn’t even needed to lift a finger this time. Sans had shattered their happy ending all on his own. He should never have trusted himself to be a part of it.

The kid visited every day for…weeks, months. Without fail they asked how Papyrus was doing, if his vitals had changed, if he looked any better, and Sans would say nothing as he squeezed Papyrus’ hand, thumb tracing his knuckles. They would hesitate, voice catching as tears filled their eyes. “Sans…”

“Kid.” Did anything need to be said aloud? They knew everything encompassed in that word and in the hollow pits of his eyes when he looked at them: the exhaustion, the defeat, the anger. The question.

It was always one they weren't ready to answer. Without another sound, they would back down and bolt from the room, unwilling to face it.

Yet not today. The clock ticked solemnly past their usual time.

Then it ticked past his brother's time.

Sans sensed the end just as it began. He wondered if Frisk could too, wherever they were right now. But Papyrus’ monitor alarms started going off, shrieking for a miracle, and Sans’ thumb was scraping deeper into his hand as it started to dissolve. His eye sockets flickered as he gazed numbly up at Pap’s crumbling face.

“One more, brother,” he mumbled, already half-dreaming of car lights veering toward them. “One more, just for you.”

He didn’t open his eyes again until the chill of Snowdin woke him.

#undertale #fanfiction #sans #sans undertale #papyrus #papyrus undertale #undyne #alphys #toriel #frisk #asgore dreemurr #angst #whump #implied character death #major character death

6 notes · View notes

sexysilverstrider · 4 years

Text

Endless Love

I love her. Crimson eyes were fixed at the light that lit up his once darkened heart. Fingers perfectly intertwined together like perfect puzzle pieces. Sometimes his thumb would brush the smooth surface of her skin. Sometimes her hand would give his own a gentle, reassuring squeeze. He loved her smile. “Skitty, look!” Hazel eyes beamed at the beautiful lights of Wyndon’s famous Ferris wheel. A smile so wide that it could rival the sun, Kotone started tugging her husband towards the amusement ride. It was a Saturday night, and people and Pokémon were buzzing in various lively manners. Luckily for the couple, they were able to reach the Ferris wheel without any delay or trouble. He loved her enthusiasm. Bouncing up and down with arms now wrapped around his right arm, Kotone looked at him. “Oooh, this is gonna be so fun! It’s been a while since we’ve been so high up!” A snort couldn’t be stopped even if he tried. “You do know you have your Charizard to fly you up and that Mewtwo of yours to float you whenever you want, right?” He loved the colour of her eyes when they rolled in his gaze.

“That’s different.” Left hand casually slipped down until it was back to curling around his own. “Besides, I don’t think the authorities would appreciate seeing a wild unauthorized legendary casually hovering two humans out in public.” Arceus, she still remembered the immense pain she had to go through just to make sure her Mewtwo was able to go through customs. Never again did she want to see another document for the next 10 years. Thankfully, her darling legendary was tucked inside his Pokéball. As much as it irritated the Genetic Pokémon that he couldn’t walk freely around the city like any other Pokémon, both Mewtwo and Kotone were just glad that he could join her in their vacation. Smiles appeared so easily when it came to her. “It’d be funny to see Mewtwo fight some cops, though.” Laughter peeped through his smile to feel her playful slap on the shoulder. A silent apology was given in a form of another hand-squeeze. The two talked and joked while they waited in line for the Ferris wheel. The cold winds of Galar wasn’t unbearable, but that never stopped Silver from wrapping one arm around his petite wife. He absolutely needed no reason whatsoever to plant a kisses on the top her head too. He loved how happy she made him. --- The lights of Wyndon truly didn’t disappoint. Once safely entered inside the cargo, Kotone and Silver wasted no time to cuddle as they sat side by side. She would go on and talk about any random thing that catches her eye. He would respond and reply back with anything that either made her laugh or smile. It’s the best feeling ever. “It’s really nice, isn’t it…?” Her voice was a gentle lull inside the comfortable cargo. Left hand never letting go of his right, Kotone pressed her free hand against the thick glass. Lights of pink, blue, red, and purple livened the majestic city. There were some big balloons seen tied and hovered under the starry sky. From afar, she could see Wyndon stadium. It was then that her mind clicked about the famous Champion Cup that happens every year. It was a shame that the sport’s event was only applicable to Galarian trainers and that it only happened from February to May. And she wasn’t Galarian. And it was already June when she finally arrived in Galar. “You do know that even if you entered, you’ll just end up sweeping the whole challenge, right?” Surprise brought her back to realize at his statement. Lower lip jutted slightly—just the slightest—as she looked at him. A cheeky smirk curled those luscious lips. Blush peppered each cheek knowing that he read her mind so well without her uttering a single word. “Well…” A little pout formed her pretty pink lips. “You don’t know that. I heard their Champion is insanely unstoppable. I mean, I’ve battled some super strong trainers before.” Her mind brought her the images of the silent trainer she encountered at Mt Silver as well as the Hero of Truth that resides in Unova. “It would be fun to see what sort of Champion Galar has to offer, no?” Kotone had a point. As much as they came her for a little getaway, even Silver couldn’t deny the curiosity he had about the Galarian Champion. The Glorious Champion. The Hero of Galar. The Royal Hero Who Vanquished the Second Darkest Day. At least…that’s what Silver had heard about her. Arceus knows what kind of bullshit the Galarian Champion had went through to obtain such titles. Silver eyes gazed at the brilliant gleam of darling hazels. If it’s anything like what both Kotone and Silver had went through when they were teenagers… An unnerving shiver crept up his spine. “Silver, you okay?” A smile trembled the corners of his lips. “Yeah…just…” He released a small sigh. “Thinking about the things we went through.” She understood him. A small smile mirrored his own. “We’re here now.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “We’re alive. We’re together.” Scooting closer to him—as if they weren’t close enough already—Kotone brought his hand up and kissed the back of it. “I love you.” Arceus, he loved her so much. “I love you too…” He kissed her forehead, then slowly traced down to the cute tip of her nose. “So much…” Gaze filled with warmth that could melt her heart into puddle, Silver gently tipped her chin. “So very…” Chu… “Very much…” Kisses feathered her plump lips at every unrestrained emotion. Her smile became honest. Became shaky. “Geez…” Face now reflected the dazzling colour of his hair. Kotone cupped her face with both hands. How easily he laughed now because of her. “Are you really embarrassed right now to look at your handsome husband?” Smile back to that cocky grin of his, Silver lowered his head to meet her gaze. She didn’t lower her hands. But he did hear a cute, “Humph…” Fuck, he was so in love with her. Very thankful that they were so high up right now, Silver gave no hesitance in wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her up. That definitely made her hands go down. “Waah—Silver!” Plop! Her butt rested comfortably on his lap. Shock and embarrassment giving a nice splash of colour on her cheeks and ears, Kotone tried her best to look angry as she looked at him. Tried. Chup! Shock once again took reign as she felt the lips she adored so much pressing so perfectly against hers. His arms were locked neatly around her waist. “I love you…” That sincere smile back in its place, Silver continued his kissing adventure by moving to her left cheek, her neck, her shoulder, then back to her pouting lips. Ah, he was insufferable. Forever giving in to his bold advances, Kotone returned his kisses with a long, sweet, sighing kiss to his smiling mouth. “I love you too, you naughty Skitty.” Hands cupping his warm cheeks, Kotone kissed the tip of his nose. She always loved his laugh. --- It shouldn’t be a wonder to see so many couples tonight. And yet, Gloria didn’t know why a certain couple caught her attention at the moment. They were a couple of adults. Around their late 20s or early 30s, Gloria assumed. The woman looked absolutely adorable in her low pigtails and white beret. The man beside her was a sight for sore eyes indeed. Never had she seen hair so devilishly red, and she once dyed her hair red herself. It was seen tied to a low ponytail, and his clear-cut face was an absolute picture if he were able to pull off such a simple look. Clearly the two weren’t from Galar. It wasn’t unusual for Galar to accept tourists at this time of year. But it was definitely something for Gloria to see such a couple that sparked such…an intimidatingly lovely radiance. That, and the fact that the woman’s arm was all too happily hugging the man’s left arm. That’s sweet… So sweet, she added. Oh to be in love no matter how old you are— “What are you staring at?” Thoughts crashed against a wall to hear his voice. Quickly she looked to her side, only to have her head tilted upwards slightly to see the tall man. Confusion and irritation masked such a beautiful face. “You’re spacing out.” One finger gently poked her forehead. “If I didn’t call out for you, I bet I could see your soul casually slip out and wander off.” Arceus, she was so cute when she puffed her cheeks. “I wasn’t spacing out.” Never one to say much, Gloria pushed a few strands of her hand behind her ear. Crimson eyes stared at the area around them, silently trying to spot the mysterious couple. But alas, they were gone in a sea of lively crowds. Unbeknownst to her, Bede never liked to be ignored. “Seriously, what caught your attention?” He leaned to where she was staring. Curiosity now sated his mind, the Gym Leader looked around but found nothing. She opened her mouth, the pure intention of wanting to explain what she saw remained in her mind. But all that was thrown out the window when he turned his head to face her as well—which in the end resulted with their noses brushing each other. “Ah—” was all she peeped. “I—!” was all he sputtered. Quickly both straightened and took a single step back. Pink puffed their cheeks at the simple physical contact. Luckily Gloria had her glasses to use as an excuse to hide her shame. Bede was just as lucky to have brought his red scarf tonight and already had it wrapped around his neck. Shit, it smelled like her since she just wore it 10 minutes ago. Ah, he was sure his face was growing pinker. “A-Anyways…” he flustered, then took a deep breath to keep himself together. “We should—we should go. We should be quick if we want to go to that dessert café you love so much.” Curse her face for getting warmer. “Okay…” Cheeks cupped by cold hands, Gloria managed a nod. Signalling the single action as approval, Bede spun his heel and began walking— “Wait.” The crunch of snow hit the sole of his boot at the meek sound of her voice. Without a word, Bede turned around, a single eyebrow raised in confusion at the woman still standing in one place. “Gloria?” Concern now dripped out of pink lips, he turned to face her again. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you hung…ry…?” The last question slurred to a gape when his gaze dropped to her outstretched hand. “Hand…” Violet eyes widened at her waiting palm, then at her. She was as red as her irises. “I want…” A deep breath was pushed out of suddenly heavy lungs. “I want…” The shine of her glasses hid such a sheepish expression. “Can we—h-hands…” Ah fuck her for failing a simple sentence right now— Shoulders actually flinched to feel her right hand being held. Immediately she looked up, glasses almost thrown off her face to see the tall Gym Leader. Oh how glad she was to know he was just as embarrassed as her. Violet eyes never met the pair of dazzling crimsons. “Come on…” Voice actually quieter than hers, Bede gently pulled her close. Fingers curled lovingly around hers. The grip felt shaky, then firm. Without another word, Bede patiently signalled her to walk. Side by side. With their hands intertwined together. Baffled was an emotion the Champion rarely felt in battles, but an emotion she definitely felt around him. She then remembered the happy couple. Gloria didn’t know why, but a smile shakily curled upwards, so bright and so ecstatic at the thought that maybe, just maybe, one day she and Bede would be just as happy as them. It was Bede’s turn to flinch when he felt his left arm being hugged. Luckily they kept moving, but he never tore his gaze away from her for a while. She still held his hand, but was now wrapping his arm with her other hand. Though her height prevented him from seeing her face clearly, Bede could see the hints of red on the tips of her ears. She was excruciatingly adorable. Blowing out a sigh—a sigh so shaky he feared it couldn’t hide the indescribable happiness he felt right now—Bede gave her hand a playful squeeze. I love her. END

#Soulsilvershipping #Bederia #Pokemon #Dressedinpinkshipping #Silver #god btyu your eng ship name is LONG #anyways too lazy to post in fic blog so tada #Kotone #Bede #Yuuri #fafar writes #this was so fun n personal for me #coz i basically grew up writing sss #n now btyu feels like a new journey ;w;

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axe-trio-commanders · 4 years

Text

Immortality

Second time writing from one of several AU’s of my commanders! This one is... actually this one isn’t even really an AU, it’s. Actually just the cannon for someone else’s commanders, and we decided it’d be fun to put Seremnis in there. This fic is actually about the first time she more officially meets the rest of this universe’s Dragon’s Watch! It’s... it’s an eventful meeting. A whole big lot of lws4 spoilers inbound, as well as a... just a whole lot of blood and gore and Bad Dead Things Sounds. Not sure if it’s enough to count as the... actual body horror I was going for, but. Hey, these things never go as planned anyways, so... have fun! (Also blame @actually-an-octopus for... Well, this au specifically, but also all the other ones)

"The rumors of my... immortality, are drastically... understated..."

She watched, comfortably perched in a high, shadowed corner of the room. It was far from the first time she'd been there, listening in on the lich's various conversations- most of them overly long, drawn out monologues. Thorns, he could make a monologue out of anything. She'd expected this time to be different, considering how much planning he'd apparently done, but... there he was, still droning on, and on…

She looked to the white-furred charr he was trying to intimidate, almost completely ignoring the norn by her side... quite frankly, she wasn't surprised that the lich hadn't noticed her hiding spot. He had quite the tendency for tunnel vision, and it was especially apparent now- all the sylvari was surprised about was that the Vigil commander hadn't come with, though she did spot his deadeye warband member. She'd long-since stopped flinching at the crackling of the lich's bones, the way tar and dried skin squelched as he righted himself... she had spent far too much time in this palace. But, now that her commander was here, and she finally had a reason to…

She was sure there'd be backup. The commander of whispers wouldn't come without a plan for backup- but while they were waiting for backup to arrive…

The small sylvari dropped, soundlessly, to the floor, the light of various sigils on the floor and up her arms beginning to glow a harsh white. She felt power flowing into her form, bark snapping and beginning to drip sap that hit the floor with a dull hiss, and then- it burst, a spray of golden sap lost in the abrupt swirl of green and black fog, raw necromantic power just begging to be used- and, eyes on the opposing lich, she'd simply... let it. The floor turned to swiss as a hoard of unstable, screeching minions crawled out of it from some dark corner of the mists, flinging themselves at Joko in a bloody mass and quite literally exploding as he tried to gain control over them- and, well, of course, she'd take the opportunity to siphon what power she could. She simply... relished in it for a few moments, savoring the *rush* that a mild case of possession could give someone.

"You- heathen!" Joko shouted, flinging the last of the minions across the room as it spattered against the wall in a sickening crunch, blood coating the gilded walls in a fine mist as it, too, exploded. "You'd betray your benefactor in his moment of triumph?"

She let out a dark laugh, voice echoing and distorted as her ill-gotten form faded- and she'd let herself fall directly into her shade, dark shadows swallowing her form as she concentrated the power she'd stolen into volatile form. Her vision quickly went dark, excepting a few lights in the room- larger, smaller blue, dark orange, bright orange... sick, twisting, tumbling green and black- she'd let the energy loose towards that one, watching a portion of it dissipate into the air, scattered.

"...-ards! Fix this!"

Hm... more of them. Extensions of that sickly life force- oh so familiar. She heard the muffled sounds of notched arrows, grinning in a way only shades could. She'd simply... tilt her head to the side, feeling the small breeze of projectiles whizzing past- saw the new life force begin to drain out of them in thick globs, and pulling it to herself en masse with a mere twitch of a semi-physical finger.

It was muffled enough in her shade to ignore it as she continued her attack, but he was still talking. On fire as he might be, as much life force as she stole and ripped away, he still-

"Enough!"

The small sylvari stumbled back a step as she returned to her physical form, staff gripped in both hands. He hadn't really done that himself- she'd simply run out of excess life force- but she was content to let him think it was.

"You are no commander, no dragon-killer," the lich snarled, a chill running up her spine as the entire space cooled considerably. Sensible alternative to ice magic, in a desert. "And yet you think you have the ability to dethrone the magnificent lich-king?!"

She paused, straightening as if she had to take a moment to consider- only for him to interrupt again, circling her.

"I am immortal! You should know better, I've been teaching you for months! All that training to take the glorious position of my general, and this is-"

"Do you ever shut up?!" Seremnis snapped- watching with immense satisfaction as surprise, then outright rage showed itself upon the lich's face.

"You have no idea how much I've looked forward to this- just listening to you is nauseating, not to mention the actual smell," she continued- taking casual stock of the awakened beginning to fill the rafters.

"You..." the malice in the one word filled the room. "You were made to serve-"

"Do you really love your own voice that much?" She rolled past a barrage of arrows, waving her staff across the floor and listening to the sounds of archers scrambling over themselves to flee. "I'd bet if you ever got your own speeches recorded, you'd do nothing but listen to them as your whole kingdom fell around you."

"And you don't have a loyal bone in your body."

"Sylvari don't have bones."

"Then what-"

"Teeth aren't bones."

"Fine, not a loyal leaf. You think anyone in your precious Tyria will let you back in? You've sold your soul to the highest bidder twice."

Seremnis barked out a laugh, watching the lich step towards her, only to be surrounded in a pen of poison, chill, and a flurry of small, invisible cuts.

"You really think I was ever on your side? I asked for control of your soldiers and didn't bat an eye when I took more! You really never caught on until now?" She tilted her head, tutting. "I expected better from you."

"Oh, you want 'better'?"

Okay- okay, that had maybe been pushing it a little, but he kept leaving himself so wide open for-

Seremnis danced back as a near-hoard of awakened began piling into the room, the dark shape of a scythe extending from her staff as she placed mark upon mark in the room, tripping and stunning them en masse, barely flinching as attacks began landing; claws, dripping tar, tearing through soft bark, dark sludge mixing with bright sap.

"If you really fancy yourself a good enough lich to replace me, why not prove it?"

The lich's voice rang out clear over the sea of snarls, and she... considered it. Prove it, hm?

She stood, ignoring the teeth currently digging into arm- focusing, instead, on channeling her own necromantic power through the awakened around her- to force them to stop, force them to turn on their master- and, slowly... she felt the teeth in her arm remove themselves, watched as heads in the awakened crowd her around her slowly, jerkily...

With the sound of bone in friction with bone, tar and organs crushed to compensate, they turned their heads towards Joko. And, sap dripping in a thick ooze down her back and arm, Seremnis allowed herself a sly grin. A 'better lich', hm? Oh, she'd wanted to try this for so long... It'd worked, always, when the lich wasn't paying attention- sending awakened off on long trips around Elona, by the caves under Istan, ignoring the ever-increasing number of Tyrian awakened who, mysteriously, never returned- but in front of him? Really, it could make a necromancer blush.

Unfortunately, Joko didn't seem to share the sentiment, and she felt the ground beneath her... shift- swirling into sand, pulling her just deep enough to bury her feet before surrounding her- digging into wounds, then further, into and down her throat- she felt the awakened return to shredding through what remained... Distantly, she heard the lich saying something along the lines of "Now, where were we?"

And she grinned, croaking out her last words- a sigil of healing glowing beneath the mass, the life force of every awakened around her abruptly portioned in order to extend her own life just a little longer.

"...The rumors of my immortality... are greatly..."

She only heard part of the enraged response of "NO!" before shadows crawled up her arm- once again enveloping her as she stood- once again pulling on the life force of the awakened as they stumbled and fell, feeling the satisfaction of rejuvenation.

Her voice, once again twisted and warped, finished her earlier statement as she concentrated her stolen power to once again unleash.

"...understated."

...What? He'd probably plagiarized it from somewhere, too.

...

"You... you were a far better fight than I thought you'd be," Joko drawled.

She could almost see his smug face- but only almost, given that her own face was currently pinned to the ground by a smelly, smelly lich foot. The dirt irritated the several lacerations on her face, even as that somewhat paled in comparison to the canid's claws digging into her side to keep her down- and... thhorns, she could feel them moving, pressing into raw 'muscle', but... somehow, all she could think about was how absolutely terrible a lich's feet smelled. Experiencing death so often gave one a strange perspective on things, she supposed.

"I suppose I did train you-"

"You've ignored me for the past five months."

She flinched as he dug the bottom of his staff into her shoulder, twisting into soft bark.

"Silence! You learned by my mere presence. An unfortunate side effect of being as great as I am."

She suppressed the urge to groan. He was still talking. But... in keeping his anger focused, in drawing out the fight as long as she could... she had successfully kept his focus off her commander. In that, at least, she'd won.

"Really, I should have expected such treachery from such a morally twisted thing like you, commander," he continued- almost as an afterthought.

Oh... ohh, she was in- so much pain, but she... still couldn't stop the little, childish giggle that escaped her. "Y... you've never given credit to the right person in your llife, have you?"

She let a moment pass, let the question hover.

"...You're really going to tell me this... disaster was your idea?" Joko muttered.

Seremnis smiled, innocence playing on a face it didn't belong to.

"All she asked me to do was watch Aurene."

A beat of silence, and then...

The window shattered.

...

...She didn't... have the energy left, to fall back into shade. To heal herself. Joko had started starving her of it midway through the fight- with how easy it was to draw out, it wasn't hard for her to believe that the lich had intended to make her suffer. But now, with the awakened, evidently, no longer a moral option...

...But Symph was here. She'd be okay. Her commander was…

A thought rather immediately backed by fact as she felt a purer healing magic flowing through her form- taking a deep breath, despite the pain it caused. She listened to the somewhat muffled conversation around her, felt the druid's old fern hound lightly nose her face, lamenting momentarily that she hadn't brought any treats for him.

It was... it was over. The awakened were free. It was over...

...She stood, leaning against a decorative pillar in one of the more... shaded areas of the fortress of Jahai. She was doing her best to ignore the sidelong glances every side of the debate was giving her- she was used to it, she told herself. She wasn't a new little Whispers recruit. She'd given just about every side a reason to be suspicious- betrayed the pact, then betrayed Joko... even before she'd done any substantial work, she'd heard the angry mutterings of anyone who knew her to be a necromancer.

...But she was used to that.

She took a long breath, wincing at the pain that still lingered from the rather deep wound in her side. It'd almost made her miss this thing- and even then, she'd had to make the trip with an escort. It would be worth it, though, as soon as everyone was here.

She'd narrow her eyes as the debate between the factions droned on, despite Symph's best attempts to placate them. Seremnis understood the importance of it, of course, but... she didn't exactly envy the position.

"...Now we can finally begin the main event."

Seremnis looked up- catching sight of the increase in Mordant Crescent around the room, saw their drawn weapons. She narrowed her eyes, starting to pull necromantic power around herself, listening... admittedly, only a little closer, as the Archon continued his rant. Injured or not, if anything happened to Symph now...

"Awakened, sunspears- you're all pathetic. And now? You're-"

And the crack of a shotgun resounded through the rotunda, the Archon stumbling forwards- turning, in rage, to confront whoever had fired. Seremnis... let her magic fall away again, a small smile on her face. Yes, he was right. The main event was here.

The Archon only had time to spit a few more insults before Koss had him more... permanently silenced, even as many others in the room continued to look for the source of the gunfire.

And when they found it…

Another crowd of awakened followed Koss into the room- one in front decidedly Asuran, blowing a small trail of smoke away from a crystal-formed rifle, her wide, sharp-toothed grin seeming permanently affixed to her face as she surveyed the room. She was far from the only one there- Pact insignias, armor and weapons littered the new crowd of charr, asura, norn- even a few sylvari were scattered among the many humans in the awakened crowd.

Every one of them, Seremnis recognized. She knew most of their names- had them written on a long paper list of those the Pact had lost to Joko. If she hadn't snuck them out of the palace herself, before getting caught...

Well, they were simply unaccounted disappearances from the stealth-trained units Joko had given her command over. The great lich had no reason to suspect her replacing disappearances, after all.

Even if every one of them had disappeared around Istan.

Even if over half of them had been former pact members.

Even if he'd lost a quarter of his forces by the time the commanders launched their attack on the fortress.

What reason would he ever have to suspect a soft little lone sylvari, when he had plagues and dragon-killing commanders to deal with?

...What? She had always wanted to try double-crossing someone.

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aphroditefumes · 4 years

Text

Michelangelo- Chapter I: The Wizard of Oz

A/N: Thank you guys soooo much for the positive feedback. I really appreciate all you guys!! And I apologize for such the long wait. Please forgive me! Enjoy!!!

“Todo, I’ve a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.” -Dorothy Gale, Judy Garland, The Wizard of Oz

Location: Boys and Girls Club of Harlem, New York, NY Date: Saturday, February 23, 2020 Time: 2:13pm

Young men of deep sepia and enriched coffee-colored hues glistened with sweat gliding down the wide expense of their backs and chests.The swell of their calves along the longevity of their legs defined as they paced to and fro on the glossed court of the Boys and Girls Club of Harlem. Their pecs jumped with every move, their sneakers scuffed as they quickly blocked passes from the opposite team, lips occasionally embedded between their teeth as they remained focused, only to release to spew curses to the dumb decision of their fellow player.

“D, pass the fuckin’ ball!”

The tallest of the bunch, Brooklyn Wright, brows furrowed, his hands wide open in exaggeration to a distracted Deandre “D” Wilkerson, who’s main focus was on the swell and switch of Ansiedad Rojas hips as she entered the gym. His view extended down tightness of her denim clad legs until she found a seat next to her girls on the bleachers, as he was now able to see her light toffee face as she turned and sat down. Her finger twisted in her hair, dimples only faintly making an appearance.

She knew D was checking for her. Her on-again, off-again boyfriend or ‘playa on the team’ as she referred to him around the presence of her friends, amused her with his sudden interest in her after ignoring her calls and texts consecutively since their last interaction last week.

“Yo, D, leave that girl alone, man,” Alijah Ford leaned against his arms resting on his knees, watching as his friend’s face contorted. He knew how D’s temper could be and knew that D was a man about action and saved talking until afterward, leaving all rationality behind.

“Fuck allat’.” D dismissed him darkly, his hand veins appearing as he squeezed the ball tighter in his grip. “Can’t answer her fuckin phone but can walk around with her ass all out? Nah, she got me all the way fucked up.”

Deandre found a wave of impulse wash over him from the top of his head into the clutches of his fingertips. The veins in his forehead and neck appeared blatantly against his sweaty dark skin, his jaw ticking from the constant clenching and unclenching.

The smirk on Ansiedad’s face never faltered as she always found her sex heating at the mere thought of Deandre getting angry. Whether through the actions of someone else or the actions of herself, mostly done through herself, Ansiedad’s fetish always ended with Deandre in some kind of trouble and herself laid an undone mess within his childhood bedroom. And with her high now heaving, eyes hard, trained on her and only her, she found it was the perfect time to intensify.

She waved seductively before laughing with her friends, biting her lips after their outburst of laughter. She blew a kiss from her glossy lips, somehow tearing her eyes away from D’s brooding figure and into the eyes of Kameron, who along with the other boys had taken attention to the scene in front of them.

Brooklyn furrowed his brows once again, “Fuck she lookin’ at me for?”

“Yeah, nigga,” D’s head snapped towards the boy he had known the longest, “Fuck she lookin’ at you fo’?” Deandre channeled his anger into a source as he walked slowly toward Brooklyn.

“Nigga that’s yo’ girl, ask her yourself!” Brooklyn exclaimed as he watched D move closer. The other boys started moving in as well, preparing to step in between if need be.

“Nah, nigga, I’m asking you.” D’s voice was as deadly as his grip was on the basketball he still possessed. Alijah stepped in front of his body before he could take another step and began to apply pressure to Deandre’s chest, who never faltered his sight on Brooklyn but began pushing Alijah back.“Fuck off me, AJ!”

“Fuck outta hea’, Nigga.” Brooklyn waved him off, not taking Deandre seriously, being used to the unorthodox anger and irrational behavior. Looking at the boys, you would’ve never guessed the two had known one another since the second grade. “I ain’t worried bout’ that girl and from where I’m standing, you don’t need to be either.”

Ansiedad sat with both of her forearms against the bleachers, her ample breast presented to a student that was familiar with in their senior class, Quentin Ward. Her Air Force 1’s rubbed against the smooth skin of his exposed leg in his basketball shorts as she seemingly purred at whatever the boy was spitting.

Suddenly, a flash of orange was sent through the air and toward the bleachers.

Deandre had unknowingly thrown the ball, it was as if his mind was not registering with his actions, the state of his head not safety executed into circumstances.

The ball flew through the air, causing the gathering of Quentin, Ansiedad, and her flock of ladies into a scattering frenzy. The open space then caused the ball to ricochet and bounce onto the unsuspecting nose of Tamara Montgomery. Her nose erupted with blood and her mouth let out a cry.

“Oh, shit.”

“Fuck is wrong witchu’, nigga?” Brooklyn exclaimed. He pushed into Deandre’s heaving chest before hastily jogging over to the crunched body of Tamara. Her book was held up to her face as she tried to hide from the embarrassment she felt at the moment.

“Ay, you aight?”

“I-I’m fine!” sputtered through the blood was the squeak-like reassurance of an flustered Tamara. It was going to take her forever to remove the blood from her fuzzy white sweater and even longer to remove this memory from her brain.

Brooklyn looked over his shoulder at the suspect at large who was currently in a heated argument with Quentin. Alijah once again stood in the middle of the two with now the addition of an instigating Ansiedad. Brooklyn shook his head, hands slightly gripping Tamara textbook, pulling down against her resisting hands to get a look at her nose. “Just let me see, mama.”

Not only was her crush in all his sweaty glory standing over her, his divine voice was calling her ‘mama’, the single most sexiest thing a man could call any woman in which he was dealing with. She definitely wasn’t removing the book now. The book wasn’t the only thing she was clutching for dear life, her thighs and her invisible pearls competed for the number one spot.

“Foreal, I’m good-

Tamara was cut of by the banging of the door from the conjoining training gym against the cemented walls. The loud noise echoed from the gymnasium, causing all noise to cease and all attention to turn towards the source.

He stepped in; Massive stature with sweat rippling down his glorious deep cedar skin, curly tendrils of chest hair glistening with seeming shiny over-glaze, shoulders pulled back and focused eyes like a black panther stalking down it’s prey. His towering height steadying his incredible 235 lbs of of mass and muscle, nostrils flared and thick lips producing breath stabling huffs from moments off the treadmill. Said nostrils exhaled smoke, his body not only oozing marijuana but radioactive Big Dick Energy. He lowered his eyes, zoning in on only one target. He face read that he was not to be fucked with. He was a man. And a mad one at that.

With his blunt rested between his thick digits and legs slowly moving ahead of him, the busying conversation resumed, now with his name on thier lips.

“Yo, Adonis coming!”

“What the fuck Donny want, man?”

“D done fucked up now.”

“D, I think the Don coming for you.”

Deandre, one of the only people who had not turned, too busy arguing with Quentin, felt his body go cold as he now felt the heat of huffs on the side his face.

“Getcho’ ass out this nigga face and walk, witcho’ dumb ass.” Adonis spoke eerily calm, inhaling another puff of the exotic kush, Harlem accent deeper with the assistance of smoke.

“Shit.” Deandre cursed as he looked off to the side before he solemnly began walking into the direction of which most of the boys were huddled, looking at the interaction. D couldn’t even fully acknowledge his care nor concern of what he caused to Tamara because he was so upset. He always found himself not having control of his actions when it came to Ansiedad. “I ain’t even mean to hit her, Don-”

“I ain’t ask you to talk, nigga, I asked you to walk.” Adonis cut of D’s would be explanation, looking forward as they neared and now stood outside of huddle. “Get from round’ her, all you niggas.” His word was final as they all moved except Brooklyn who was still trying to get Tamara to remove the book. “You too, Brook.”

“Aight.” Brooklyn huffed as he moved and stood behind Adonis.

“Nigga, say what the fuck you gotta’ say.” The man brought the blunt back to his thick lips, inhaling deeply and exhaling in the opposite direction of the young girl.

Deandre scratched the back of his neck, “Look, I ain’t mean to hit you, I-

“But you did, nigga.” Adonis gained more anger and irritation by the second. “D, forreal, stop playing with me.” The man laughed humorously while he shook his head. “Say what the fuck you gotta say ‘fore I really whoop your ass.”

“T-that’s okay.” She pushes up her glasses. “He doesn’t need to apologize.” Her muffled voice sounded through the jacket she had now pressed against her nose.

“Coo’. Let’s play.”

The man calmly handed his blunt to Brooklyn, uttering only a ‘you bet’ not smoke my shit either’ before he unexpectedly snatched the boy who he looked at as his little brother up by his jersey. Tamara was startled as she let out a little gasp, once again clutching her invisible damn pearls.

“I’ll Air yo shit out, boy. Keep playin’ wit me.” He gritted through his teeth. Tamara noticed how his dark skin dimensioned from the veins appearing through it. She bit her lip peeking through her glasses, feeling a heat rising between her thrifted jeans. “Say it fore’ I whoop yo ass, lil boy.”

“Aight.” D huffed, slightly embarrassed. He pulled away forcefully from Adonis’ grip. “I said: aight!”

“Watch yo’ muthafuckin’ tone.” Adonis spoke deeply. “And hurry the fuck up before I get mad.” He snatched back his blunt and leaned back on the heels of his Nike trainers, waiting for an unspoken apology.

“My fault for hitting you, I ain’t mean to do that shit.” Deandre spoke, somewhat sincerely. “But I did and I’m sorry, foreal.”

“D!” Ansiedad called from her spot in the middle of the gym, angry that Deandre was apologizing to some girl like a bitch, in her opinion. Plus, he had calmed down.“Let’s go!”

“Thank you, and it's okay.” Tamara accepted his apology, keeping her focus on the bleachers.

Deandre stared at Tamara’s face for a few seconds longer before he turned and faced Adonis, waiting for approval almost, who straight-faced him and dismissed him with a single look in the opposite direction. “Imma’ catch up with you niggas later.” He turned towards a waiting Ansiedad.

“Dumbass, nigga.” Brooklyn muttered, taking the words right out of Adonis’ mouth. He made a reminder to specifically talk to D soon.

“Don’t een’ worry bout’ him. Worry bout’ takin’ babygirl go see Shay.” Adonis referred to the club’s residential nurse. “And make sure Shay give her a new pair of clothes, some without all this blood shit on it.”

“Bet.” Brooklyn slowly guided her up while Alijah grabbed her stuff, making sure to grab and conceal the detailed drawing of Brooklyn in Tamara’s notebook.

Adonis shook his head watching the young kids walk away before pulling another hit of his blunt, disregarding the no smoking sign littered all throughout the building as usual. As he blew out the smoke, his breath was literally taken away as she entered the building.

Adonis’ deep eyes watched as her collard dress shirt rose even higher with the sexy switch of her wide hips as she walked timidly in her mid-calf boots. Her toned legs and thick thighs glistened with the glitter BonBon perfume she spritzed on herself this morning, awakening the senses of the young men who were watching her every move without shame. The woman pressed her Fentybomb glossed lips together, giving the boys a closed lipped smile before she began looking into the gym absentmindedly.

Adonis watched as her hands cramped behind her back as her curls tossed over her shoulders while she looked around the wide gym curiously, her heeled foot scratching the leather material of the other.

“Can I help you?” The woman was brought out of her wonder-stricken trance by the deep baritone that belonged to Adonis. She felt her breath leave her body as she assessed this gorgeous man in front of her very eyes. His black eyes pulled her in like an abyss that made her less embarrassed that she finally learned to swim at the age 19. And his beard- that Beard- it was combed and edged to perfection, simultaneously just begging to raked through with her acrylics. She felt her eyes disband, trying, but ultimately failing, not to immediately wander down the massiveness of his glistening eight pack that led to his gray sweats that exposed his deep V and happy trail. It was like his body and his face were both competing for her attention and right now, his beautiful face was losing.

She was knocked out of her trance quite literally when a ball hit the back of her Dior sweater causing her to stumble into Adonis, who quickly wrapped his arms around her waist.

“My fault!” A boy no older than twelve yelled from across the gym.

Adonis hiked up a brow, his eyes filled with amusement but face remaining static. “You aight,?” He asked, his accent as thick as his hands that slightly grazed her hips.

The woman quickly stabled herself back on her heels, gripping his massive biceps and giving a nervous smile. “Sorry. My mom swears I’m fall prone, or something.” She giggled. “I’m always falling all over the place.” She finally gained her stability and removed her hands completely from his warmed skin, taking a step back.

Adonis noticed her accent, heavily induced of a Beverly Hills Valley girl accented with slight high pitched slurs in her words. Her mannerisms reminded him of Cher from Clueless, his little sisters favorite movie.

“I was actually looking for the Chief Executive director. David, I think?” She looked up at nothing in particular. “I spoke with him on the phone earlier this week and he told me to go through the gym to get his office. I’m Sabella, by the way.”

“Nah, he left around 11 this mornin’.” Adonis stepped back and placed his hands in his basketball shorts pockets, getting a personal look at Sabella’s pretty face. “Somethin’ bout’ his wife.”

“Oh.” She let out softly, pouting as she toyed with her dangling Tiffany bracelet. Sabella went back to the conversation they had on the phone and his considerable amount of flirting he did.

“So do you think he’ll be here tomorrow?” She questioned adorably, shooting her head up. Adonis smiled within his hard demeanor at how adorable Sabella could be all the while being hands down one of the sexiest women he’d ever seen.

“Hmm?” She reiterated softy.

“He don’t work on Sundays.” He shook his head. “I ain’t gon’ front with you Miss, the nigga barely here. And when he is here, his ass just be sleep in his office.”

Sabella pouted once again. She had planned this meeting and finally felt she was getting somewhere within her new position at work, starting as junior editor at Mel Magazine Inc., the largest Black owned and black ran magazine corporation in the world. Her boss Melanie Howard, founder, CEO, and HBIC of the magazine gave the wide-eyed intern a job and a deadline to create an entry for the latest ‘Black and Bound’ segment, a segment about young black athletes living within compromising environments who were bound to go pro.

“Well, thank you anyways.” Sabella gave a soft smile, fixed her purse strap, and began walking away. Before she turned she could see from her peripheral vision of Adonis giving a curt nod before turning to walk away himself. Sabella decided, she was going to sulk tonight with a glass of chilled margarita mix and a binge session of POSE.

“Aye, Don!” Brooklyn announced as he jogged back into the gym. “Sammy gettin’ shorty right. Said it was just a nose bleed and that she’ll be aight.”

“Ion’ know, that girl looked about 5’6 to me.” Alijah added randomly as he soon joined the two.

Brooklyn raised his eyebrows as if waiting for Alijah to continue his statement. He dropped them when he realized that Alijah, of course, was finished. “And, nigga, the fuck?”

“You called her ‘shorty’ and she’s like the average height for a female her age.” Alijah shrugged as he pulled out his glasses from his pockets and placed them on his face.

Adonis and Brooklyn stared blankly within Alijah’s face, snickering before waving off AJ. “You one weird ass nigga.”

“And just who the fuck do you think you are?” Alijah asked as he picked up a rolling basketball, about to throw it back to the tweens across the gym.

Brooklyn snatched the ball from him, dribbling between his legs, crossing AJ and shooting the ball in the basket.“I’m Brooklyn Wright, nigga. Fuck you mean?” He smiled cockily as he threw the ball back to kids who stood in amazement.

“I got to get away from you little niggas.” Adonis stated bluntly.

Sabella stopped in her tracks, literally, smiling happily as she turned and basically ran to where the boys were standing. “You’re Brooklyn Wright?!” She smiled excitedly, clapping her hands. “Oh my god, you’re Brooklyn Wright!”

Brooklyn, confused but living for it all, flashed her a smile, stepping back to rub his hands along his jaw. “Yeah, I am that young nigga.”

“Hi, I’m Sabella Monroe-Ramirez with Mel Magazine.” She held out her hand. “Would you mind me asking you a few questions?”

Brooklyn let his eyes rake down her full figure as he savvily grabbed her hand. “Hell nah I don’t mind.” As she reached for her notebook, he got a peak at the wagon she was dragging. “Ask all the fuckin’ questions yo’ fine ass want.” He mumbled with his lip between his teeth.

Sabella giggled, the feeling of success taking over he ability to hear. She opened her mouth. “So how old were you when-”

“Nah, we not doing this shit.” Adonis spoke up, towering over both of them. He wasn’t with none of the exploitation of young boys and girls, especially young black boys and girls. “I know you know he only 17-

“Almost eighteen by the way.” Brooklyn interrupted as he smiled at Sabella before turning to the irritated face of Adonis. His smile dropped as he decided he didn't want none of the leftover smoke he had from Deandre. “Imma go over here.”

“Yes, but he's old enough to consent to questions.” Sabella answered where Adonis had left off. She was not about to let this opportunity go. “And as long as I’m not asking anything sexual or incriminating it’s fine-”

“Nah, it ain’t.” Adonis cut her off. “You makin’ a profit off his questions and he not, so no, it ain't fine.”

“I-I’m not making a direct profit-”

Adonis cut off the stuttering, once again not letting Sabella finish. “But it’s in your paycheck, right?” He shook his head knowingly at Sabella’s shocked face. Exactly. “Ion know where from but where you at is the hood. Don’t come around here with that shit.” He waved her off, pulling from the diminishing blunt.

“You know for someone who looks like they don't like being cut off, you sure love doing it to me.” Sabella regained some dignity, remembering the pep talk she gave herself before she walked in the building.

Adonis couldn't help but laugh, choking on smoke slightly before standing up straight. Who’d she think she was fooling with her act?

“Look, you came here for David. The nigga ain't here so have a nice day before you not have a nice day.” Adonis really didn't want to be disrespectful to her pretty ass so he left before he had a chance.

He turned, allowing Sabella to see the defining muscles of his back as he retreated back into the gym.

_________________

“So that is how I turned in small business into a billion dollar corporation.” Julius Howard felt the weight lift from his shoulders after getting through with the story of how Mel Magazine came to be to a group of interns. He must’ve at least told the story a million times within the last two months due to how frequently his wife hired and fired the mostly new college graduates.

The largest conference room on the 10th floor within the skyscraper located in the heart of Manhattan held the welcoming seminar, hosted, as always, by Julius Howard himself. He’d sit at the head of the large conference table and explained the in’s and out’s of the job. He felt the job was not fitting of someone of his position; Chief Operation Officer of Mel Magazine Inc, some editor could easily do the job. His word was nothing against his wife though so he complied. There, however, was one upside: Sabella.

He stared at her wide eyes as she looked at him from the end of the table. He could tell something was troubling her from the look on her face. He sought to ask as soon as the seminar was over.

Now we’ll go over the structure-“

“Why is this white jezabel even a consideration for the cover of next months issue?” The clear glass door banged against the wall as Melanie A. Howard herself busted in the conference room. The young occupies, jumped in both surprise and awe.

The room was filled with mostly interns had never officially met her and was hired through her assistant. Sabella took in the appearance of her classic houndstooth pantsuit and the Black Louboutin’s that she seemingly floated in throughout the office. For some reason, Melanie’s reputation and inevitable stance reminded her of her favorite character from her favorite show: Elecktra Abundance from Pose. They possessed the same level of mother she she inspired to be.

A man sat at the head of the table, unfazed by his wife’s unruly actions as over the 19 years he had grown used to them. His hands fingered his beard as he tested the waters. She wouldn’t act too(bold) crazy in the presence of others- he wanted to see

“Melanie, as you can see: I’m busy. We can talk about this lat-

“I don’t give a damn about you being busy, you’re on my time! And we’ll talk about this now.” Melanie has crazy eyes that said ‘Don’t play with me.’ She often thinks her husband loses his rabbit-ass mind and constantly finds herself giving it back to him along with a piece of hers.

“I don’t wanna embarrass you in front of your lil’ girlfriend so bring ya’ ass.” She was every bit of Harlem as stared down her husband as he embarrassingly rose from his padded roller chair. She stared pass him into the staring eyes of Sabella.

“You.” She pointed. Melanie pushed passed a hurrying Julius, stepping into the room fully.

“Have you got the questions on Brooklyn Wright?”

“I-I um-“ Sabella panicked with all of the eyes on her. She began to feel her anxiety creep up the back of her neck as she struggled to respond.

“I-I-I B-b-b uh- Now you can’t speak English?” Melanie sickeningly mocked Sabella as she now stood over her.

“Melanie” Julius warned from his vicinity at the door.

“If you don’t have answers by the end of the week consider yourself jobless, Radio. Understand?”

Sabella looked through her lashes, her eyes glossed over with unkept anxiety. Her tongue grazed her teeth before she gave a small, closed-lipped smile, swallowing back sitting saliva and tears. “Of course, Mrs.Howard. “ She forced out. “I’ll get right on it.”

Melanie inspected her closer, shifting in her Louboutin’s as her eyes raked over Sabella’s sitting figure. She smirked, she could practically bottle up the fear and sell it with all of it coming from Sabella. And besides her making a hypothetical profit, she also made a logical observation; the doe eyes, the lip bitting, the hair tossed over the shoulder. She could see why the little hottie with a body held the attention of her husband. Sabella was like the many women that her husband had personal ‘meetings’ with, the women who no longer worked at the Magazine and would never work at another. But she was different; rare. Anyone could notice.

Melanie didn’t like it.

And she vowed to get her husband not to like it either.

_________________________________

Sabella sat, shoveling a spoon of Ben and Jerry’s Phish Food into her mouth as she watched the now Elektra Evangalista read the House of Ferocity to filth. She chewed on a chocolate chunk before swallowing and bringing a handful of cheddar and sour cream Ruffles into her mouth. A curl that escaped her messy ponytail fell in line of her vision from the shaking of her head from the secondhand embarrassment she was feeling through the screen of her MacbookPro.

“House of Ferocity? You two are about as fierce as my morning cornflakes.”

The background and fill-in actors of Sabella’s most watched addiction Pose instigated the flawless read as they ooed and further pressed the unexpected slayage. “Dang, Elektra. You didn’t have to do them like that.” Sabella couldn’t believe that a character that she instantly hated from the first few seconds of the series was now the level of mother she strived to be by the last few minutes of the first season. After coming home, Sabella committed to her vow of bundling up with Netflix and carb-loaded snacks. She hoped to recover emotionally and physically from the smack in the face she’d felt from the day she had.

“Sabiii!” A high pitched voice sang throughout Sabella's studio apartment. She pouted from the intrusion and paused her screen. She could hear heels clacking against her marble flooring coming closer to the vicinity of her bedroom and immediately let her know who the intruder was.

“Why are you still in bed?” Her door was suddenly opened and the snatched silhouette that belonged to the one and only Cream Karrington obtained her view. “And why aren’t you dressed?” She exaggerated as she felt for the light switch and turned it on. “Come on, Sabella, you promised! You are not bailing on me now!” Cream jutted out one of her wide hips and looked at Sabella through slitted eyes.

Sabella’s eyes got used to the bright light as she squinted and brought another spoonful of ice cream to her lips. Cream scoffed in disgust as a little bit dribbled from her mouth and onto her chin. She swallowed and whipped it away with the sleeve of a thrown oversized sweatshirt before speaking.

“I’m not bailing. I’ve just….” She signed. “I’ve just had a really bad day, C. You won’t believe what happened today-

“Right, a bad day.” Cream condescendingly nodded, cutting off Sabella. “So you have a bad day, completely bail on me when I need you most and

“Cre-

“No, no, no, I’m not finished.” Cream narrowed her eyes and stalked closer to her. “Sorry to break it to you, Sabella, but you’re an adult. So if you think that I’m going to sit here and listen to how bad your day was, then you're wrong. I don’t care how bad your day was.” Cream began sautering around the room, her heels being the only thing heard for a while.

“And you know, you’re not in Oz anymore, Dorothy.” She continued as she found herself near the door, referring to Calabasas. “You don’t get to walk around and pretend you don’t know how anything works, not anymore. This is New York.” She faced Sabella, finding satisfaction in the drop of Sabella’s face. “People don’t give a shit about your shitty day, princess.”

Sabella sat unmoving as the echo from Cream’s heels went further and further, only moving to jump from the slamming of her front door. She didn’t understand, Cream was simply going to get a consultation for her BBL. Sabella didn’t understand why she made such a big deal out of it, seeing as though it will be her second one. But, she was used to Cream’s famous harsh words and the storm outs that soon followed as she had known her since she was 7 years old. She would forgive Sabella soon enough after finding something else for Sabella to be there for.

Still, Sabella decided to finish up the season before meeting Cream at M.D Cosmetics and hope to make things up to Cream. She couldn’t stand Cream being mad at her.

Before she could press the tab on the computer, Sabella was once again kept from the flawless reads as a bang assaulted her door and echoed through her apartment. She could feel the vibrations from beneath her feet as she hopped up from her position.

“What the..” Sabella questioned herself as she neared the now rattling door from her hallway. She assessed her surroundings and found her sights on the pastel pink key on her entry way table, connecting that Cream must of forgot her key or one final read of her own.

“This girl.” She muttered as she grabbed her key on the way to the door. Sabella expected to find the tapping Christian Louboutin foot of a waiting Cream but found Burberry dress shoes instead. She looked up into the eyes of the man that towered her, pausing at how good he looked. “What are you doing here, Christian?”

Christian smiled, flashing his perfectly straight teeth. He began walking slowly into the apartment. “No hello, princess?” He neared closer.

“No, Christian.” Sabella stated sternly, her hands weakly pushing his away from her ass. “No ‘hello’, only goodbye. Now, Get out.” She stood firmly with her hands across her ample chest.

“First of all,” Christian gritted as he slammed her body against the adjacent wall with a tight grip on her neck. “Take all that fuckin’ base outta’ ya’ voice.” He licked his lips at the sight of her immediate submissiveness. “Second of all, who the fuck you think you kicking out? I pay the bills in this mothafucka’”

Sabella’s eyes closed, feeling of an euphoric state from a man that was once her’s reinstating his dominance. “I’m sorry, daddy.” She stated softly, pushing away the internalized self-disappointment she felt within. She felt herself melting not only at the state of her current being, but at the feeling of his tongue now suckling her jaw. He moved down her neck, placing wet kisses on her juggler, moving his hand from her neck to her ponytail, yanking it as he stared deep within her eyes. “You better be fuckin’ sorry.”

His hands caressed her plump bottom before hooking his arm beneath and hoisting her up, already knowing the way to her room.

“You about to be real fuckin’ sorry.” He mumbled deeply, and out of breath as he entered her bedroom, dropping her on her comforter. Sabella leaned on her forearms and watched as he rushingly rid himself of Balmain dress pants and boxers, stumbling slightly before pouncing on her small body. His hands and mouth went to work, kneading one of her now exposed breast while his tongue circled around one of her erect nipples.

Sabella moaned as he moved from one to the other, cradling his head as he moved back and forth before lifting his head and finally bringing their lips together. She could feel it behind her lids, the power of her messy kiss bringing tears to her eyes. She held on tighter, her arms completely circling his neck, knowing this moment would be over as soon as it had begun. She grinded on his large shaft, pulling a grunt from him. “I’ve missed you” She whispered against his lips, out of breath as he once was, connecting them again once her statement was finished.

As their tongues overlapped for silly dominance, Christian began shimmying down her spandex of her leggings down her thick thighs, stopping once there was an opening big enough for him to stick his large hands into. His thumb swiped her wetness through the soaked material. “You still get wet for daddy.” He stated before completely removing himself from her and the bed. Sabella physically shivered from the disconnect, longing for his much missed touch. She whined.

“Calm down!” Christian barked, completely quieting Sabella. He rummaged through his pants pockets, pulling out a gold wrapper before walking over and yanking Sabella leg until her ass was hanging off of the bed. He ripped open the wrapper with his teeth, maintaining eye contact with Sabella, and slowly rolled it on to his dick. “Ignoring my call n’shit” Christian spoke lowly, pulling the leggings and her thong all the way off. “Now, look at you. Feening for this dick.”

Sabella laid completely exposed. The cool air of her apartment wafted against her exposed clit and nipples causing her to absentmindedly arch her back against the sheets.

Christian smiled devilishly, “Yeah, that’s what I like.” His hand grabbed her waist while the other aligned his member to her slick opening and slowly moved in. He waited, her warmness completely surrounding him, reminding of old times along with her angelic moaning, before slamming into her.

Once again, Sabella found herself succumbing to her ex-fiancee and future brother-in-law, gasping as he fucked into her, fully submitted.

____________________________________________________________________

Hope you guys enjoyed this. Please let me know what you think and if you’d like to get added to my taglist!!!

@l-auteuse @artienauq (P.s sorry for making yall wait!)

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changingourdestiny · 3 years

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Guardian Games Part 1: A Secret Weapon

Summary:

A two-part special.

The Guardian Games have arrived! Determined to make up for the Hunters’ defeat last year, Blaze, Crow, and Marcia are all set for this year’s events. But after Marcia shares news about Cayde having a secret weapon for this year, the three Hunters can’t help but be curious as to what the wildcard Vanguard has in store...

Next Part: Here

It was a crisp early spring morning in the Last City. Despite the early hour, the Tower was bustling with Guardians, all excited for this year’s Guardian Games. Some were having friendly debates with their Fireteammates as to which class would win this year, some were grabbing bounties from the vendors to prepare for the events, Tess was busy handing out this year’s ornaments and armour for the games. On the platform overlooking the courtyard, Blaze was doing crunches on a railing with Crow counting beside her (but really, he was making sure she didn’t fall and hurt herself), “98. 99. 100-” “What are you up to now?” Blaze paused her workout as Marcia approached the two Hunters. “Hey, Marcia!” Blaze greeted as she pulled herself up with help from Crow, “Just getting ready for the games. Hunters are gonna win this year for sure!” “Usually, I stay out of Tower stuff. But after last year’s humiliation,” Marcia smirked, “I’m in.” “Aw, yeah!” Blaze cheered as Crow chuckled, “With that amount of energy, Eva might need extra material for the Hunter banner.” “That reminds me, did Cayde tell you about his ‘secret weapon’?” Marcia asked. “No. He has a secret weapon?” Blaze seemed utterly confused at the statement. “Yeah. He said it’s been in the works since January and he’s gonna unveil it today. Every Hunter I’ve asked has no clue. Hell, even Shiro has no idea. Thought you two might know.” A sharp whistle from down below interrupted the conversation. “Hey, you three! Get down here, it’s go time!” Cayde yelled as the Vanguard alongside other Guardians stepped onto the podium to begin the opening ceremony. “Well, looks like we’re about to find out.” Blaze shrugged as she made her way towards the stairs. Marcia shot a glance at Crow and she could’ve sworn she saw the Kinderguardian smirk.

Cayde, Marcia, Blaze and Crow joined the others on the podium. Zavala was talking to Eva about the games while Adam and Saladin were being blasted by Shaxx giving a motivational speech. As they stepped onto the platform, they were approached by Ikora and Osiris. “Have any of you seen Rae?” Ikora asked. “I thought she’d be with you. Is she on the Helm?” Blaze asked. “No, I just came back from there.” Osiris replied. “This is very strange. It’s not like Rae to miss an event like this.” Ikora muttered. “Maybe she got caught up with a meeting with the Stranger.” Marcia suggested. “No, her ship was in the hangar this morning.” Crow added. “I’m sure she’ll show up soon.” Cayde shrugged, “Let’s get this show on the road!” The exo excitedly trotted up to the Hunter banner. “Cayde’s not even concerned? Something’s definitely up…” Blaze muttered as everyone took their places on the podium. Eva took the mic and began to speak, “Welcome everyone to this year’s Guardian Games. It’s wonderful to see so many Guardians excited to take part.” As Eva continued her opening speech, Blaze felt Marcia nudge her elbow. Blaze glanced at Marcia who motioned over to Cayde with her head. Beside him was a masked Hunter than neither of them recognised. “Who is that…?” Blaze whispered. “No clue. A Kinderguardian maybe?” Marcia replied in a hushed tone. “Why would-?” The two were interrupted by Saladin giving Blaze a nudge and signalling for them to be quiet. “With all that said,” Eva smiled, coming to the end of her speech, “Let the Guardian Games begin!” The crowd erupted into cheers and applause. But before they could disperse, Eva handed the microphone to Cayde. “Before you go!” Cayde began, “If I could have your attention for a brief moment.” The Guardians looked at each other with confused expressions as Cayde continued, “So a few months back, I had a bet with someone. I know, I know. ‘Cayde making bets? Big surprise!’ But basically, it was over a Hunter vs another class match and whichever side won, the other Guardian had to switch teams for the Guardian Games.” A few interested and curious murmurs began to surface amongst the crowd. Marcia noticed Crow’s smirk was a bit bigger now as Cayde continued, “And as you can see, I’m still in my glorious Hunter gear so I won. And this mysterious stranger here was the loser.” The masked Hunter took a few steps forward until they were beside Cayde. “Who wants to see who it is?” Cayde asked, followed by a massive cheer from the crowd. “Wait. Don’t tell me it’s…” Ikora began but before she could finish her sentence, the Hunter removed their helmet. When they did, the crowd went crazy.

There stood, in full customised Hunter gear, was Rae Drakyx.

“What?!” Blaze exclaimed with a shocked smile while Marcia laughed while clapping her hands, “Cayde, you mad lad!” “This cannot be happening.” Ikora was a mixture of shock and impressed while Zavala was floored. “You’re joking!” Adam placed his hands on his head while giving a terrified laugh while Saladin and Osiris seemed just as shocked. Rae spun around, showing off her armour. It had the same colour palette as her Warlock robes. The cloak was blue with a purple rim and the Warlock symbol at the end. She wore boots that matched her jacket and a piece of fabric on the front that bore the Hunter and the Stasis symbol along with a leather pouch strapped to her right leg. “So, for the last few months,” Cayde continued, “Rae has been training in secret to be a Hunter fit for the Guardian Games. Only one other person was in on it: a training partner who was also undergoing Hunter training. Ain’t that right, Crow?” Blaze’s head whipped towards Crow who gave a small bow. “You knew?!” Blaze was gobsmacked. “You have no idea how hard it was to keep this a secret for the last few months.” Crow chuckled, “I thought Ikora or Zavala would find out for sure.” “With that said, Rae? Any words?” Cayde handed Rae the mic. She gently tapped the mic before speaking into it, “Warlocks, I hope you’ll forgive me one day…but go Team Hunter!” The Hunters in the crowd began cheering like crazy as Rae handed the mic back to Eva. “Well with that unexpected surprise,” Eva laughed, “Let the games begin!”

As the crowd excitedly dispersed to begin racking up points for their teams, Ikora, Adam and Zavala approached the group of Hunters. “I won’t lie, I’m impressed Cayde.” Ikora began, “More so surprised you were able to keep this a secret for so long.” “Have a little more faith, Ikora.” Cayde replied, “It was easy to keep this one on the down-low.”

“Not true. He kept talking about how eager he was to brag about how he got Rae onto Team Hunter.” Crow smirked.

“H-hey! Whose side are you on?!”

“So, we have the Warlocks having it out for the Hunters, the Hunters getting revenge on the Titans, and the Titans defending their title.” Zavala mused, a small smile on his face, “This year’s games will definitely be interesting.”

“That in mind, don’t think the Hunters have a leg up because Rae’s on your side.” Adam folded his arms with a grin, “The Titans are still gonna crash through you and win this!”

“Ha! In your dreams, Adam!” Blaze beamed, “This year, the Titan banner will be so low, you’ll have to be in the sewers of the city to see it.”

“I think you’re forgetting something.” Ikora smirked, “Cayde’s stunt has given my Warlocks more of a reason to win: to avenge Rae. They won’t back down to either class.”

“It’s on!”

“Chaos Crew!”

“Wha…?” Marcia glanced at Blaze. “Cayde’s Chaos Crew! It’s the Fireteam name I made up for our group.”

“I…

LOVE IT!

” Cayde exclaimed. “Oh Traveller, what have I gotten myself into...?” Rae shook her head with a smile. “Take it like a Hunter.” Crow chuckled.

“MARCIA!!”

Everyone spun around to see a herd of Guardians surrounding something with a lone Drifter hand waving above them, “Cayde’s got ‘em a lil’ TOO eager to bet this year! A lil’ help?!”

Marcia turned to Cayde while pointing at the herd, “You did this.”

Cayde just gave an innocent shrug as Marcia let out a sigh. “You guys go on ahead. I’ll catch up!” Marcia then began making her way over to the chaos surrounding Drifter, “Alright, you punks, in a line! Don’t make me turn y’all into popsicles!”

“I’m Drifter! I like gettin’ in over my head and getting’ others to bail me out!” Ghost popped up beside Rae who giggled at his impression. “Dude, I cannot get over your Drifter impression. It’s so convincing!” Blaze laughed. “Thank you! I take pride in it.” Ghost replied with a happy wiggle. Cayde turned to Rae, “Crucible, m’lady?”

“Don’t mind if I do. Last one to the hangar buys ramen for the team!” Rae grinned.

“Wouldn’t that make Marcia the one buying?” Crow asked.

“Exactly! Now let’s go!”

To Be Continued…

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60schickgroovy · 3 years

Text

The Fair

(Peter)

I bobbed my sign and flexed my pecs. I was tired and hungry and I only had one spot left to fill, so if the only reason they stopped was the size of my breasts, I was okay with that. 5 minutes later someone pulled over and I led them to my house and into the remaining opening on the lawn. I breathed in the fresh air as I walked up the steps to the front door of my parent’s house, it was a glorious day! Suddenly, I thought I heard someone say my name. I turned to look around for a person, but there were none to be found. I guessed I must have misheard, my parents lived in a house near the corner and a few blocks from the Minnesota state fair so the cross street was always busy at this time of year. “Y/n!” I turned again and noticed a red van had slowed to a stop in front of my house. “Hello?” I squeezed between the cars on the lawn to the sidewalk and when I emerged I was surprised to say the least. “Hi, Y/n!” It was my high school crush, his mom and his two younger brothers. “Hello, Mrs. L. What a surprise!” “Hey, Y/n.” “Hi!” “Hi, Y/n!” “Hi, Ben. Hi, guys!” I waved to his brothers in the back seat. “How are you?” His mom asked with a kind smile. “I’m very well thank you.” “Where were you at graduation, you missed, Mrs. May’s speech.” Ben asked “I know I was so bummed, but I have never been sicker in my life. I got to skip Jennings’s final though.” “Lucky. Anything crazy happen over the summer?” “Actually today I...” His mom was being honked at from behind. “Here just a minute.” She pulled past the intersection and Ben hopped out crossing over to where I was at the corner. We talked for a while about my trip to Ireland, graduation, his boat, college and the fair. “Yea, some of my friends are actually playing in the grandstand tonight, my cousin was supposed to come with me but her flight got delayed. Hey! Would you like to come, I’ve got backstage passes too and it’s a pretty good line-up tonight.” “Really?! That would be awesome! When should I be here?” “Well, music starts at 7 so how about 6, gives us time to get over there maybe stop for snacks.” “I’ll be here.” He hugged me, which I wasn’t expecting, so I was a little stiff and after a few salutations he took off. I stood there for a few moments and waved him off, what an odd turn of events! I’d never seen him near my house and he never wanted to do anything with me outside of school!

Tonight was a big night, I put on cute hoops and love beads with my favorite psychedelic top and shorts, I slipped into sandals and put my suede, fringe jacket on. I kissed my mother, reddened my lips and headed out. Ben was dropped off just as I stepped out. I was preoccupied with my bangs for a moment before coming up to meet him. “Hey, Y/n, thanks again. Wow, you look really nice!” “Oh! Thank you, so do you.” Weird, Ben never complemented me. Maybe once in our whole 6 year acquaintance. “Let’s go, I feel like some French fries!” I said and we walked off. We wandered back toward the grandstand, grabbing fries and snow cones and talking along the way. Conversation flowed freely between us and it made me remember why I had liked him, but I also saw the things that made me glad nothing had ever happened there. He never wanted to talk about an ‘us’, even a friends ‘us’, he was self-preoccupied and he kept bringing up past girlfriends and girls who liked him now. He was always kind of making a move while making it clear he didn’t like me that way. I was also really happy that I... “The show starts in 15 minutes, we should get to our seats!” I said eagerly. We found our seats right in the middle and the perfect distance from the stage. A small local band called Unless walked on stage and were introduce by a groovy guy named Eric. Ben leaned over and asked, “Are these your friends.” “No, they’re later. I actually do know Eric though... Woo! Go, Eric!!”

As the evening progress Ben got confused, these guys were the intro band, if they weren’t my friends then it could only be the big famous band. “Which group are you friends with?” He finally asked as the group left the stage to loud applause. “Oh, the M... Here they are!” He turned to watch four young men walk on stage bouncing and making faces. “Yay!! Peter!!! Mike!! Micky!! Davy!!” I was best friends with the Monkees. “You’re friends with them?” He asked in awe and disbelief. “Oh, yea. We met about a year ago.” There was tumultuous applause and I heard Peter say, “Thank you, thank you!!” “I love you. Peter.” I called. Ben decided I was crazy, I didn’t know them, I just said that to seem cool and that he’d be very forgiving when I looked foolish backstage. They hopped up and down in time as they started Last Train to Clarksville. After a few songs and a costume switch, Mike walked up to the mic with a smile, “Now this last song is for a very special young lady in the audience tonight! She’s special to all of us but especially to Peter.” Ben saw my face turn, from glee to shock to overwhelmed happiness. “He told them!” I gasped. Ben looked at me, utterly perplexed. The spotlight finally landed on, “Ms. Y/n Y/l/n, will you please report to the principal’s office.” Micky stole the microphone. I beamed as I got out of my seat, touched Ben’s shoulder, oblivious to his total shock and made my way to the stage. Davy was waiting to hug me, “Congratulations.” He whispered in my ear. I kissed his cheek and moved to be scooped off my feet by Micky. “I’m so happy!!” He spun me around and I kissed his cheek to. “You guys planned this didn’t you?” I asked Mike, as he hugged me, “Congratulations, Babe.” I kissed his cheek and gave him a squeeze before running into Peter’s arms. “I love you!” He whispered. “I love you too and I can’t believe you did all this!” “I didn’t and I have no idea what’s next!” He warned. “Oh god.” I smiled as Davy grabbed the microphone. “Now everyone’s probably wondering why we brought our friend up here.” There was an affirmative murmur from the audience. “Well, because this morning Peter, here, asked Y/n a very important question...” There were screams and gasps all through the grandstand. I buried my face in Peter’s chest. “What did you say, Y/n?” The place got quiet as Davy held up the mic for me. I looked into the eyes of the expectant crowd and it suddenly felt very personal and I was nervous, but then I looked up at Peter and he smiled, his warm sunshine smile and I felt confidence and joy fill me up. “Yes.” I held up my left hand, splaying my fingers and moving it a little so the ring would catch the lights. There were cheers and whoops enough for people in Minneapolis to hear. Peter gave me a quick kiss before heading back to his spot by Davy. Mike pulled me over to sit in front of Micky’s drums. “So, Y/n, here’s your favorite!” He said to the mic. They struck up “The Kind of Girl I Could Love.” I beamed as I clapped and sang along softly. Mike winked at me, I turned to see Micky wiggle his eyebrows. Davy smiled and Peter... I could tell he meant every word. He looked at me like no man ever had, like I was his whole world.

At the end of the song I was hoisted onto Micky and Mike’s shoulders and carried off stage to tumultuous applause. The boys carried me all the way back to their trailers. We started a bonfire and had someone go get us food, the boys were starving. “I’ll be right back, I had a friend with me and I don’t know if he’ll be able to find me.” Peter kissed my cheek as I hopped out of his lap and hurried over to where they were letting people with backstage passes in. There was a couple of young guys who walked right passed me, two teen girls, one of them noticed me, burst in to tears and they both fled. Then I caught Ben’s eye, he seemed dazed but I was still too happy to notice. The bouncer let him through and I gave him a huge hug. “What did you think?” “You actually know them?” “The Monkees, well Yea. Peter’s my fiancé and Mike, Micky and Davy are my best friends. Do you want to meet them? There’s corndogs and beer and stuff.” He shrugged with a halfhearted smile. I led him back the way I came. The boys waved as we approached. “Okay introductions.” I said pretending I needed a second to prepare. “Yea, Y/n, who is this long haired weirdo?” Mike asked. “Be nice Michael, this is my friend from school, Ben Lisbon. Ben this is Mike Nesmith, Micky Dolenz, Davy Jones and my fiancé Peter Thorkelson!” Micky gestured to the vacant seat next to him. “Chair on the sit!” Mike gave him a look, “Micky, Micky it’s sit on the chair.” Davy corrected him. “I don’t even know anymore!” Micky ran his hands over his face, just as, “Phillis!!” Mike’s wife emerged from his trailer. “Y/n! Oh, my, gosh it’s so good to see you.” She gave me a bone crunching hug. “Don’t squish the baby!” I said. “I know, I’m tiny right you can hardly tell.” I shook my head as she gestured to the large bump under her dress. “Phil, there is a human inside you, cut yourself some slack, besides you are glowing!” She blushed and fanned herself, batting her lashes. “You bet your boots she is, come ‘er.” Mike took her hand and brought her over to sit on his lap.

We chatted for a couple hours. I was never happier than when I was with the Monkees, Ben was a little quieter than usual, but he had fun talking to them. I noticed he kept trying to pull me away from Peter, it was hard, though, we kind of gravitated towards each other. At 11 he mentioned he had to get back and in the end we all decided to go. “We can drive!” Said Micky glancing around at his mates with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. Suddenly all four of them hopped up from their seats. Phil sighed and shook her head. “Come, my trusty cohorts! Let us to the Monkeemobile! Away!” Mike said pointing at the last exclamation. The other three surrounded him and mimicked, “Away!” I laughed as they marched off to the car. I stood and offered Phyllis and Ben my arms. Ben didn’t join in when we mimicked, “Away!”

Soon the crazy red car was parked in front of my house, where Ben’s mom was waiting to pick him up. I hopped out with him to say goodbye. “I hope you had fun! We’re a crazy group, but we do know how to have a good time.” He stopped walking. “Yea, it was great. Thank you, Y/n.” He took my hand and my heart clenched. “Y/n, do you ever wonder what would have happened if...we’d...” He tried to catch my gaze. “I used to.” I responded simply, “I hope you find what you’re looking for.” I said, trying to gently release his hand. “I kinda thought I had.” He said trying to make eye contact. I sighed, trying not to laugh. A year ago I would have given anything to hear him say that, my heart would have burst just now. But, as soon as I left that wretched high school and got a taste of the real world, freedom, peace, true happiness and finally real love, I realized that my crush on him was a whim, a fancy and now that I could look back on our acquaintance with my new experience and knowledge I realized that not only would he make me really unhappy, I didn’t feel anything for him. Nothing at all. “Goodbye, Bennett.”

When I had maneuvered into the far back seat of the car, Peter was waiting for me with open arms. “Hi.” “Hi.” “I missed you.” I smirked at him. “I was only gone a minute.” “Yea.” He nuzzled into the hug and I kissed his hair, laughing. “I love you, Peter.” He looked into my eyes and stroked my hair. “I love you too.” When the others had finished waving goodbye to Ben and his mom, Mike called back from the driver’s seat. “Alright, Ms. Minnesota, where too.” The smile on my face was stuck there, I smiled at all the happy, eager faces, I felt the warmth and love you feel when you have real friends. “O’Gara’s, drinks are on me!” There was a loud cheer as the car pulled out onto the dark street.

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*I don’t own the Monkees or anything under their brand, I just wrote this story*

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tibbinswrites · 5 years

Text

Suptober Day 23 - No Exit

Warning for Major Character Death in this one.

Dean pulled out his phone, grimacing as the movement sent a fresh wave of warm blood gushing from the wound in his stomach. He had to use both hands to hold it, which meant no one was keeping pressure on the wound, which sucked. He had to try several times to unlock the thing, his fingers were sticky and the touch wasn’t really registering. What the hell had been so wrong with buttons that phone companies decided to do away with them altogether? Maybe Bobby had had a point in his aversion to computers, or maybe Dean he had just gotten old enough to be falling behind. At least he had signal in here. He tapped on the name and it began to ring. Dean winced as he reapplied pressure to his stomach with one hand, not that it would do much,

“Hello Dean,” The voice was as warm and gritty as wet sand and Dean instantly relaxed, slumping back against the wall, though that wasn’t the voice he’d been expecting to hear.

“Where’s Sam?”

“He’s meeting with that paranoid office worker, he said he had some information on the thing’s location but made Sam promise to leave his phone behind.”

“Oh yeah, ’cause that’s not concerning.” He tried to push back the crushing disappointment that he wouldn’t be able to hear his baby brother’s voice one more time. He still had Cas.

“Sam said you’d say that,” Cas said, the hint of a smile in his voice. “Don’t worry, we checked him out beforehand, went through his whole life story in paperwork, he is who he says and ‘he’s not the droid we’re looking for’.”

Dean laughed, okay, it was half a laugh, half an extended, pained cough. It was a horrible, hacking sound, not one that could be passed off as anything other than concerning. “Man, I’m so glad I made you watch Star Wars.”

“What’s wrong?” Cas asked, voice instantly hardened, serious, “are you alright?”

“Uhh...” He considered lying, he did. He already missed the warmth of happy, calm Cas. Then he shifted and coughed again and knew that Cas would never forgive him if he lied now. “No, buddy.”

“Where are you?” Cas was all business now, and he could hear the light static of air passing through the speaker as the phone moved, keys jingled in the background, the sound of a door.

“Cas-” it was too late, he wanted to say, Cas wouldn’t get here in time. Dean was lying in a pool of what he judged to be about five pints of his own blood. He was woozy and feverish, steadily dripping out more, and to top it all off, he was in a solid stone room so even if Cas made it before Dean croaked, getting in would take more time than he had.

“Where!” Cas shouted.

“The… the theme park outside of town. The maze room. Thing was a freaking minotaur, you believe that? Not heard of them outside of Greece before.”

“Was,” Cas repeated the sound of a car engine rumbling through the phone, “You killed it?”

“I think you could say we killed each other at the same time,” Dean said, glancing over to where the misshapen lump of the minotaur lay. “I just… haven’t gotten around to dying yet.”

“Don’t talk like that. I’m on my way, you’re gonna be fine.”

“I’m bleeding out, Cas. If I go quiet don’t think I’m ignorin’ ya, alright?”

He could feel it, the sleepiness that came with blood loss, the way his head kept dipping. It wasn’t too bad yet, he’d had practise at this after all, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to fight it much longer. The minotaur had gored him, and then it had thrown him backwards just as Dean had managed to get the wire around the thing’s neck, unknowingly killing itself when it threw Dean away, the wire slicing through spine and muscle and tendons half a second before Dean hit the wall.

“Hold on,” Cas ordered, voice desperate. Dean would bet Baby that the gas pedal was on the floor. Even so, the theme park was a quarter of an hour away. “Hold on just a little longer. Please, Dean.”

“I’m glad you picked up,” Dean confessed. “I don’t… I don’t wanna be alone.”

“I’m right here.”

“Yeah,” Dean said quietly. “You’re always here when it counts.”

There was a small sniff from the other end of the line, or at least that’s what Dean thought, but blood loss and pain could do all sorts of funky things. He pressed a little harder to the wound and hissed as it shot lightning through all his pain receptors.

“What the hell made you go after this thing alone?” Cas demanded, “You couldn’t have called me?”

“Save the lecture till after I’m dead, Cas.” He said, trying to sound jokey, but it rang hollow.

“Don’t-”

“Thing jumped me anyway. Knocked me out. I woke up in the middle of the maze. Only know that’s where it is ’cause we were in here, what, two days ago?”

When the three of them had first rolled into town the first thing Dean had seen was the theme park, and seeing as they would’ve had to wait until the next day to get started on the case anyway they decided to go. It had been a great day. Dean dragged Cas to the bumper cars and laughed his ass off as the guy drove around the track like a jittery grandmother.

But as it turned out, Cas loved roller-coasters.

In the maze they’d split up. Sam had followed a thread of interesting murals while Dean and Cas went searching for the centre; Sam text them while they were getting lost to let them know he’d already found the middle and the exit and that he was going to go get them candy apples while he waited. They found it eventually, a cool and dimly lit stone room with a bell suspended on wire in the middle to ring to prove you’d made it. Apparently there was also a huge stone slab that could be (and was currently being) used as a door, rolled into position and fixed in place by some mechanism that he couldn’t see and didn’t care to investigate. In fact, it was that very door that he was now bleeding out on. He had to hand it to the minotaur, this was the ideal spot for squirrelling away victims after hours, as long as those victims weren’t viciously well-trained and resourceful, of course, but that was no fault of the location.

“Dean?”

Dean shook himself, he’d been dangerously close to drifting off into his own head for a second there, “Yeah, sorry.”

“Keep talking to me,” Cas instructed, “I’m almost there.”

“Cas, you’re not gonna-” Dean began.

“Shut up!”

“Keep talking, shut up, I’m getting mixed signals here, buddy.” Dean said, his words ending in a wheeze, apparently he needed to stick to shorter sentences if he still wanted to breathe.

“Oh please, you invented mixed signals.” Cas retorted, clearly just grasping on to the thread of conversation to keep Dean talking, he couldn’t blame him, were the situations reversed he knew he’d do the same. He heard the crunch of gravel and figured that Cas had hit the theme park parking lot.

“And what’s that s’pposed to mean?” He heard his voice beginning to slur and he fought it as best he could. He was shocky, had been since about the third pint of blood ventured out into the wide world, shock he was an old hand at but now he was approaching pint six and his vision was dipping.

“We are not having this conversation now.” Cas said fiercely, and he was running, Dean wasn’t sure he’d even switched off the car engine but he could hear the rhythmic pound of footsteps, the slight hitch in Cas’ breathing, more at the force of his feet hitting ground rather than any bodily strain, damn angels. “You said the middle of the maze?”

“Yeah,” Dean said, feeling himself start to slip, the darkness was so inviting, it hurt where he was, sat on the cold stone, his own blood soaking into his socks. “S’okay, Cas.”

“Don’t you dare fall asleep, you hear me?!” Cas yelled into the phone, panicked now, his voice remarkably stable for someone sprinting full speed, Dean loved his voice, he loved how it could be soft and badass at the same time, he loved the way it formed itself around words and made them become emotion by association. “I’m almost there.”

“Mmm.”

“Dean!”

“You say my name weird.” Dean said, mostly to stop Cas from yelling at him.

“I do?”

“Yeah, like it means somethin’, not just a name, you know? But me.”

“You do mean something,” Cas insisted. “You mean a lot, you mean everything.”

“Dramatic bastard.”

Cas let out a sound then, half a sob, half relief, and then there was a bang on the solid block of stone behind him, vibrating it, making his skull ring like that damned bell.

“Ow,” he complained.

“Dean!” Cas called, his voice tinny through the phone and muffled through the door. “Can you hear me?”

Dean allowed the phone to slip from his fingers and into the pool of blood with a sick plop.

“Yeah, Cas. I hear ya.”

“How do I open the door?”

“Dunno, buddy. The thing had keys, maybe that.”

“Can you slide them under the door?”

“Can’t reach ’em.”

“Try!”

So Dean half-heartedly lifted a heavy arm before letting it drop, “Ain’t happening.”

“Not even to save yourself?” He sounded angry, good, angry was better than upset, he deserved angry.

“Cas, I don’t think I could move to save Sam right now,” he confessed.

There was a pause then, a brief one, and if he wasn’t mistaken a sob burbled up from the blood-soaked phone that didn’t make it through the door.

“Okay,” Cas said, that glorious voice remarkably gentle now, “Okay, then I’ll find another way in.”

Another pause, and then the whole room trembled, dust floated down from the ceiling and Dean grimaced at the pain even that slight movement caused. That tremble came again, and again, and a fourth time.

“Are you trying to punch your way through?” Dean asked, half-incredulous, half-impressed. He’d also probably be a little turned on if he had any blood to spare.

“Yes.”

“Well stop it, you’re giving me a headache.”

“Dean-”

“Dammit, Cas! Just talk to me.”

If Cas heard the note of fear in his voice, he was kind enough not to mention it, though it wasn’t the dying that frightened Dean, he’d been down that road more times than he could count, no, he just… he didn’t want to spend his last minutes in a stone box listening to Cas lose his freaking mind.

“I can save you.”

“No, you can’t.” Dean said quietly.

It was definitely a sob this time, one last, tiny thump, and the sound of Cas falling to the ground, either on his knees or on his ass Dean couldn’t be sure.

“It’s okay, Cas. You’ll be okay.”

“Don’t bullshit me,” Cas said. “I’ve lost you before, I know that I won’t.”

“Yeah, well… You’ve still got Sam, and he’s gonna need you too.”

“Sam… what… what am I gonna tell him?”

“You’ll tell him that you stayed with me. You’ll tell him I told him to cut his damn hair.”

Cas laughed wetly. “He won’t.”

Dean smiled, despite himself, “Yeah, I know.”

There was a brief silence while Dean struggled to stay conscious just a little longer. He wished he could see Cas, touch him, watch his eyes turn soft and focused, looking at him like he was something beautiful and brilliant and loved.

“Never thought it would be like this,” he said after a minute, because he knew Cas was about to call his name again, shaky, and not expecting a reply.

“You never factored in ‘minotaur’?”

“Funny, right? I’ve got a long list of ways I thought I’d get taken out, but never once thought of a minotaur.”

“Sounds like bad planning on your part.” Cas replied, with forced calm.

“Right?”

Another few seconds passed, then, because Dean just couldn’t stand it anymore, “I love you.”

He heard the gasp, heard the gulp and the choke, hated himself for it, because Cas would have to live with this moment forever. Dean would be dead with the words no longer stoppering his lungs but Cas would have to carry them around with him for the rest of his life, or at least until he learned how to set them down and leave them behind. Dean didn’t like to think about either option.

“Sorry,” he continued, “I know, Winchesters don’t do deathbed confessions.”

“So, why-?”

“Because you deserve to hear it. Because I fuckin’ love you and I can be such an asshole sometimes and I’m not sure you know.”

“I know,” Cas said thickly. “I was waiting for you to say it, to be ready.”

“I’ve got the worst timing.”

“Yes, you do.”

Dean practically heard the teary smile, even as the room faded to blackness, he was still conscious, just, could still hear, but keeping his eyes open was just… too much.

“I love you too.” Cas said, “bad timing and all.”

“Good, or that would’ve been awkward.”

“Any other deathbed confessions while we’re here?”

“Just one, but if you tell Sam, I’m gonna haunt your ass.”

“What?” Cas’ voice was like a breath of clean air after a storm, air that he could barely get into his lungs now.

“I’m scared.” The words came out in a puff of air, barely audible now, “How dumb is that? I don’t want Heaven, Cas, I just wanna go home.”

��I know.” Cas said quietly. “You’re the one person who won’t be content with paradise.”

“Mem’ries ’rn’t the same.” He mumbled, his tongue thick and unwieldy in his mouth.

“But we had some good ones, didn’t we?” Cas murmured through the door. “Like the time I first made you laugh in that brothel? And when we...”

Cas’ voice faded out, a soothing rhythm of pleasant memories and feelings.

Maybe he hadn’t had minotaur on his list, but this wasn’t the worst way to go, all things considered.

@winchester-reload

If you liked this, please consider buying me a coffee.

#suptober #suptoberart2019 #spn fanfic #Destiel fanfic #major character death #angst #day 23 #No Exit #prompt #writing #TibbinsWrites

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mskathywriteswords · 4 years

Text

Cupcakes at Midnight - Chapter 2

No warnings this chapter.

I look at myself in the mirror, wondering where all the years have gone. It feels like last week I was a blushing bride, and yesterday I was picking up the pieces from a failed marriage. But it's been over a decade.

My phone is in the kitchen, I left it there purposely so that I wouldn't obsess over looking at it every five seconds.

Instead, I go through my regular nighttime routine, taking my time with each step. The normalcy of it comforts me. I can pretend that I'm not freaking out on the inside. I scoop the cat litter and refill his water as he meows, begging like he's never been fed before.

I walk back and look at the cupcakes. The cinnamon crunch is gone, of course, but the other three still intrigue me. I've never even heard of some of the flavor combinations Ava's made for me. But I want to try them.

The thought of putting them in my mouth makes me blush, which is ridiculous because surely I'm a grownup who can think dirty things without a childish reaction. I close my eyes and slide my tongue across the silky frosting. The tang of raspberry rises up and makes my mouth water even more. I'm about to dive in to the cake part of the cupcake when I notice my phone lighting up and buzzing.

Ivy must be late night texting me, maybe she's fighting with Matt again. I swear, I don't know if those two will make it to their actual wedding.

But there is a tinge of hope that it's not Ivy.

After debating forcing myself to wait longer to check, I pick the phone up and click the button on the side so I can preview the message.

It's from her.

What if she texted back to ask me to stop texting?

That would be dumb, since she's the one that gave me her number, right?

What if she says it was all a mistake and that note was meant for Ivy? That would make sense; Ivy is gorgeous and statuesque, and ... not me.

But she didn't give Ivy the box of cupcakes, did she?

I drive myself crazy with what-ifs, so I just open the text.

I'm so happy to hear from you. What are you up to tonight? Hope it's not too late to text

I start to tap out a reply, then delete it. Maybe I should wait until tomorrow to reply? Then I realize her message was blue, meaning she'd see the three dots if she happened to be looking at her phone.

And either way, even if it was only going to be a friendship, did I really want to wait and play games? Wasn't I done with all of that?

Another exciting Friday night, wrapped up in a blanket on the couch watching Netflix, very much enjoying these cupcakes. Thank you again. And no, not too late to text - I use the quiet functions once I go to sleep, so you're good to text me anytime

I smile, hoping I'm coming across as genuinely as I feel. When I see the three dots pop up on her side of the screen, my smile grows.

What's on your current to-binge list? Glad you're enjoying the cupcakes. Thank you for inspiring them

Thank god she's a text-in-complete-words person.

Before I walk back to the couch, I pour myself another cup of tea and eye the last two cupcakes. How many cupcakes was too many in one night? I shrug and grab the orange-swirled one.

Well, right now I'm in the middle of Derry Girls. Still have to catch up on Handmaid's on Hulu, but that won't be until after I get through a few (probably boring) documentaries.

Instead of clicking the phone off, I set it on the arm of the couch, face up, so I can see if she replies again. Maybe my TV choices would make her realize how utterly snooze-y my life is.

OMG, which epi of HT are you on? Haven't seen DG, good?

We exchange texts for a few hours, discussing different movies and tv series, finding common likes and dislikes. By the time I yawn for the first time, finally acknowledging how tired I am, I realize it's past 3 am.

Holy shit, I have to get to bed soon. Will you be around tomorrow?

Jane from five years ago would have thought it was being very forward of me to ask, but right-now Jane is enjoying the conversation and ready for more from life.

I will. Any chance we could continue this conversation in person?

I tap out my reply before I even have time to think it through or be too self-conscious.

Absolutely

Awesome. Let's play it by ear, but I'll see you tomorrow, J

The temptation to leave it there gets over-ruled by my giddy, smooshy feelings.

Goodnight. Sweet dreams

That's the last reply in the series, and I set my phone on the nightstand, long ago having moved to bed to charge my phone. I roll to my side and think about what tomorrow will bring. Cat curls up at my feet and makes his displeasure that we're all still awake very well known. My eyes can barely stay open, but my brain is a freight train of excitement.

The next morning, I debate what "too early" to text would be. I don't want to seem overly eager, but I don't want to intentionally withhold a message just to play some weird unwritten rule game.

I get my laundry done, sweep the kitchen, and putter as much as I can, until finally around mid-day, my phone chirps. Cat looks up at me, ever-annoyed that his nap has been interrupted.

Beer, pizza, and extraordinarily dark dystopian future tv watching?

I shake my head and laugh.

What could make for a better Saturday night?

I can think of a few things. For now, it sounds pretty good, right? Wanna meet at your place? Is that too weird / too soon?

Was that a date? Meeting at my place to watch tv?

Sure, not too soon at all. What time?

We make plans for a few hours later, and I'm still unsure if it's a date, but I decide it doesn't matter. I want more fun in my life, so even if we just hang out and get to know each other better, wasn't that the point?

When the doorbell rings, I practically jump out of the chair. I open the door, and Ava looks like she's just come from some punk band concert that would be way too cool for me to even consider. I laugh to myself.

"Hey, come in."

Her hands are full, but she makes her way past me, finding the kitchen immediately.

"I wasn't sure what pizza toppings you like? I don't know how we didn't discuss that. But I went with half cheese, half pepperoni, just to be safe. Sound okay?"

She smiles and a part of me wants to melt at how genuine it is.

"Yeah, sounds great. I'll just grab plates. Do you need a fork and knife?"

The look on her face is absolutely fucking priceless.

"A fork and knife? For what?"

"Oh man, Ivy is so funny, she had me convinced for a while that everyone eats pizza with a fork and knife. Thank god it's just her. I was starting to question everything about my twenties."

"No way. Pizza is a single hand, no utensil kind of food. That's part of what makes it so perfect. I wasn't sure what kind of beer you drink, so I just got something generic."

We open our cans and take them, the pizza, and a roll of paper towels to the coffee table. Between bites, we talk about the season of the show and how we each think it's going; we make predictions on where it might end up. Then finally, when the pizza is gone and we're left with just awkward silence, we put the show on.

I can see Ava looking around my apartment as we watch, maybe trying to learn things about my life? Her eyes are on a particular frame over my fireplace.

"That's my niece, Hailey," I say, smiling.

We're sitting across the couch from each other; not too far, but not too close. Cat was always between us, annoyingly adorable as ever.

"Do you have any siblings?"

She smiles. "Nope. Only child."

"Does that get lonely? I bet it was glorious growing up. No one to fight with for the TV remote, or what kind of pizza to have."

Ava shrugs and smiles, then turns her attention back to the TV. Her body had been angled toward mine, but she shifts, and then scoots closer. Horrible things happen on the show in front of us, but right in the room? She laces her fingers through mine and my whole body warms.

Is this what it's supposed to feel like?

A few hours, laughs, and cupcakes later, the sun has set and we're several episodes into another series. I'm surprised when Ava gets up, yawning. Her arms go over her head as she stretches, and I swear I almost die when I see a sliver of her skin between her shirt and pants.

"I open the bakery in a few hours. I'm sorry, I'm terrible company right now. I probably haven't said ten words in the last hour."

"No need to apologize," I say, standing and touching her arm. "You've been great company. I feel bad I've been keeping you. You were up so late last night, too. All my fault." I laugh, trying to downplay my disappointment that the night is ending.

"Mutual blame," she says, smiling and tugging my arm. It could be a friendly gesture, the hug, but I can't help but hope it's the beginning of something more than a friendship.

#lesbian #original fiction #lgbtq books #wlw #fluffy smut

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bgharison · 5 years

Text

Jot it Down July -- Fluffday

I’ve finally gone and done it. I blame all of you, but most recently @lavvyan, for reminding me about coconut crabs.

youtube

SEALs and Other Animals (Danny Never Had These Problems in Jersey) “I don’t think it’s a case for Five-O,” Chin said, smiling fondly at Kono. She was practically vibrating as they came off the elevator.

“What’s not a case for Five-O?” Danny asked. It had been a relatively slow morning, for once, and he was standing with a hip propped against the tech table, dealing another round of solitaire in glorious HD.

“Coconut crab!” Kono exclaimed. “On Oahu!”

Steve came out of his office. “No way. Confirmed?”

Danny looked back and forth at them in confusion, then concern. “No. No, I don’t like it when the two of you look at each other that way, with that gleam in your eye. Usually I get shot. What the hell is so special about a coconut crab? This rock is crawling with crabs.”

“Not with these,” Chin said, arching a brow.

Kono’s fingers were flying over the table, without so much as a by-your-leave to Danny’s game.

“Hey,” he protested, both at the rude dismissal of a line up that had included two aces and a king, and at Steve’s crowding into his personal space. Kono ignored him and flicked an image onto the first plasma screen. “Oh, it’s got a pretty color,” Danny commented, looking at the obviously highly enlarged photo.

Steve jabbed a finger at another image and it popped up onto the second plasma.

“Sweet baby Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Danny breathed, grabbing onto the table. “It’s the size of a trash can. The crab. Is the size. Of the fucking trashcan.” He realized that Kono was staring at him, blinking. “What? The thing is huge. It’s alien.”

“No, it’s just -- I had the impression you were Jewish?” Kono said.

“I’m -- sometimes I am, it’s a long story and it’s not pertinent to the fact that there is a fucking trash can size crab roaming the streets of Oahu,” Danny said, gesturing wildly.

“I remember, Christmas break, when I was twelve,” Steve said. He was grinning like the absolute loon that he was. “Remember, Chin? They found that coconut crab in Honolulu?”

“I remember,” Chin said. “Made the news. We all hoped we’d find another one. Didn’t realize as kids, what kind of damage they would do. You know, this is the first one reported since then.”

“We gotta get in on this,” Kono insisted.

“I’m sure animal control is handling it just fine,” Chin said.

“Damn straight, animal control is gonna handle it,” Danny said.

Steve glanced between Kono and the plasma and hitched up his pants.

“No, Steven,” Danny said. He put one hand on his hip and pointed dramatically at the plasma. “Animal control. The zoo. The -- the people at Pearl Harbor.”

“The Navy,” Steve said absently, then grinned again. “Maybe the Naval Reserves. It’s an invasive species, Daniel. One that’s prized both for its meat and as a reputed aphrodisiac. We could be looking at a smuggling operation.”

“Yeah, totally,” Kono said, nodding vigorously in agreement.

Chin tilted his head at the screen. “That is a consideration.”

It was Steve and Kono’s fist bump that sealed their fate. Danny muttered a Hebrew prayer under his breath as the adrenaline twins dashed off to collect gear.

*****

One lead led to another, to another, and damn it if Steve hadn’t been right: it was a smuggling operation. Which was why Danny was standing in a cargo container surrounded by giant crabs from hell. There were three on the floor, two on the walls, and one, somehow, directly overhead. Suspicious clickity sounds from the back corners, in the shadows, indicated even more.

It looked like a scene from a Godzilla movie.

“Radiation? Did these things get blasted off Hiroshima?!” he yelled, scampering backwards as one of the crabs ambled toward him. Kono made a little tutting noise and tossed the crab a coconut. It grabbed for it and cracked it open, the noise reverberating off the sides of the cargo container. It sounded like the crunch of a bone, and Danny shuddered.

“Please, tell me the crab wranglers are on their way,” he muttered, glaring daggers at Steve. “And for gods sakes, put that thing DOWN.”

“Yeah, University of Hawaii biology department is sending a team over,” Steve said. He was admiring a smaller crab, this one just the size of a cat, as opposed to the Rottweiler sized one decimating the coconut at Danny’s feet.

Danny felt something brush against the back of his leg. Something hard. He heard a clicking sound.

“Screw this so hard, I hate you all,” Danny yelled.

“Their only natural predator is humans,” he heard Steve calling, as he stumbled out into the bright sunlight. An eager looking group of students clutching large cages was rushing toward the cargo container, lab coats flapping.

***

“That was something else. You don’t get to shut down an animal smuggling ring every day. Coconut crabs!” Steve said proudly, beaming at Danny. The case had finally been wrapped up, and Steve seemed to be basking in some sort of post-science-nerdery afterglow. Or maybe that was just the sunset. Sometimes it was hard to tell.

Danny narrowed his eyes and studied him more closely. No, there was definitely glowing.

“Not since 1989,” Steve said. Danny realized it was not, by a long shot, the first time Steve had seemed to stick on that fact.

“Yeah, not since you were twelve,” Danny said. “You’ve mentioned. Several times, in fact, babe.”

Steve shrugged and ducked his head. “It’s just . . . I’ve missed so much, you know? Leaving before my junior year . . . not coming back, I . . . I’ve missed a lot.”

“But not coconut crab sightings,” Danny said. “You were here, the last time this happened. And you’re here now. And you saved your island from a crab invasion. You did good.”

Steve laughed and shook his head. “It sounds stupid.”

“No. No, it doesn’t sound a bit stupid. And you know what? While you and Kono were secretly considering bringing one of those home -- don’t deny it, Steven -- and while I was narrowly avoiding being cracked open like a walnut --”

“A coconut,” Steve interjected smugly.

“Shut it -- Chin was videoing the entire fiasco. He shared it with me. You know what I think?”

“I know you’ll tell me.”

“I think you should call Mary when we get home. Call Mary, and we’ll show her the video. She was, what, ten the last time this happened?”

“Nine or ten, yeah,” Steve said. “I bet she remembers.”

“I bet she does. So, call her up, catch her up on the coconut crab happenings at the old homeplace. Bet she’d love to hear about it.”

“Yeah?” Steve asked, his face lit up and hopeful. “Yeah, I bet she would. I mean, that was pretty awesome. I’ve seen them in Guam, of course --”

“Oh, of course,” Danny muttered, rolling his eyes.

“Bet you’ve never seen anything like that on the boardwalk at the Jersey Shore, hunh Danny?”

“No. No,” Danny sighed, “I never had these kind of problems in Jersey.”

***

#jot it down july #h50 #ScienceSteve

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sheirukitriesfandom · 4 years

Text

The Battle Of The Western Watchtower

I found a chapter of a currently dormant longfic among my WIPs. I once joked about Rethul’s performance during the battle of the Western Watchtower, but, to be honest, that must’ve been a horrifying ordeal.

Summary: After reporting to the jarl of Whiterun, Rethul is sent along to investigate a dragon attack on the Western Watchtower.

CW: Canon atypical violence, mild gore

Just what did I get myself into?

When Rethul had arrived in Whiterun to warn the local jarl of the imminent dragon threat, he had imagined that his role in this crisis was going to end then and there, that he was going to waltz straight into Dragonsreach, report what happened in Helgen, and then go on his merry way away from fire breathing lizards and imperial executioners – preferably someplace warmer, too. But no, of course it did not. A dragon just had to attack the Western Watchtower and the jarl just had to have the brilliant idea of sending him along with his guards and his trusted housecarl.

“Wonderful. Just wonderful,“ muttered Rethul as he put on „his“ armour: a spare from the town guard’s armoury. The chestpiece was way too broad for Rethul’s untrained frame whereas the collar cut into his neck, bruising the area. The helmet fit loosely and bopped around on his head whenever he moved. The guards, in contrast, were awfully tight in all the wrong places and Rethul wondered how he was supposed to run, let alone fight, in that sorry excuse for protection.

He picked up the sword they had left him and swung it around aimlessly.

“Heavier than it seems, right?“

When Rethul turned to the door he could see one of the guards standing in the frame. He was holding a surprisingly nice looking pair of leather boots.

“Much heavier. How do you guys manage to swing it like it’s nothing?`` questioned Rethul, still amazed by the weight of the sword. He swung it again.

“Well, we train with it every day. At some point you just get used to it.“ The guard shrugged.

“Irileth says you should hurry up. She wants us to arrive while the tower is still standing.“

“I’m not exactly eager to be eaten by a dragon.“

“Trust me, you’ll prefer the dragon to Irileth’s anger,“ the guard laughed. „Here, your boots.“ He placed them on the floor in front of Rethul. To his surprise, they fit just fine.

He stepped outside and waddled towards the town gate, where the other guards were already waiting. Most had their faces obscured by metal helmets, but the ones Rethul did see spoke of pity. How many had bet on his demise?

As soon as he arrived, the guards set out in a hasty march. The Western Watchtower was only a short distance from Whiterun. Still, Rethul had trouble keeping up and soon fell behind.

“Wait!“

At this rate he was going to be out of breath when it came to fighting the dragon.

“I can’t go that fast!“ he wheezed.

Two of the archers seemed to have heard him. They stopped walking and waited for Rethul to catch up.

“How did you survive Helgen if you don’t even have the stamina for marching?“ asked one of them. He was a tall man with broad shoulders whose face was hidden under a full metal helmet. Rethul questioned how he was supposed to see where he was shooting.

“Don’t be so harsh on him, Troels," reprimanded the other archer. He was shorter and much more compact than his comrade. His face was not hidden and Rethul admired the man’s glorious mustache.

“I see you’re a man of style,“ said Rethul and twirled one end of his own.

“I can only return the compliment,“ laughed the archer. “Name’s Svadir. And you are?“

“Rethul,“ he replied and reached out.

Svadir shook his hand with way more force than Rethul had anticipated and he had to force a straight face while his fingers were crushed.

"Troels,“ said the other archer.

The three hurried up a bit, the vast Whiterun tundra spread out before them.

"What was it like? Helgen, I mean,“ asked Svadir.

"Well, I had a lovely date with an imperial executioner and just as my head was placed on the chopping block, woosh, there it was. A flying monstrosity with scales black as night. The headsman was so startled he let go of his axe and nearly beheaded me anyway,“ Rethul laughed. „After that, things got crispy. I and a man in a blue tabard - I think that means he’s a Stormcape or something - escaped through the dungeons beneath the town. Of course, that did not mean we were out of danger. There were soldiers there. And worse. Torturers! Would you believe that? Above our heads the world was ablaze and they were down there, continuing their grisly work,“ Rethul shook his head. „Thanks to my bravery we did make it through though.“

"And then you came directly to Whiterun?“

"No, no. I don’t even last until the Western Watchtower, so how could I manage to survive the way to Whiterun? All the way from Helgen? I’d die of exhaustion!“

"Look! There it is!“ Troels pointed at the distance.

Before them, the Western Watchtower rose above the horizon. The smoke coming from within made it look like an overly large chimney; as they got closer Rethul could see flames scorching the ground around it.

The group took shelter behind a rock a short distance from the smoldering tower.

“Is the new recruit here as well or did we lose him on the way?“ asked Irileth. Her dedication to her post and her prowess in battle made the stern dunmer woman renown among her soldiers. And feared.

Rethul swallowed. „Reporting for duty!“ he announced with a dry throat and tugged on his helmet. She narrowed her eyes, mustering him. Could she hear his fear? Or maybe she wondered how he managed to survive Helgen. She had every reason to.

Finally, her attention turned to her soldiers.

"There is no doubt the dragon was here,“ she declared. "See if there are any survivors, but remember, the dragon is our priority!“

Like ants the soldiers dutifully scattered around the watchtower searching rocks and rubble. Rethul complied and started looking as well. He was climbing over stones and debris when he saw something shimmering from under some bricks. He removed them and found a fairly battered helmet – thankfully without its contents.

Rethul shuddered. These soldiers had had experience and fortifications. Now they were dead. What chance, then, did he and the others stand with nothing but a smoldering ruin to serve as shelter – shelter that might well turn into a deathtrap. There was no way they were going to kill the dragon! No way!

A familiar roar ripped him out of his thoughts.

"Here it comes!“, he heard Irileth shout.

Truly, there it was. A dragon – but not the one from Helgen. This one was smaller. Not that it mattered; the beast was going to kill him either way.

Rethul glanced around. The archers were readying their bows. Among them, Svadir and – what was his name again? The look on their faces, however, betrayed his eagerness for battle. Those hidden behind helmets were given away by nervous fiddling with various buckles or insecure sword swinging. Only Irileth stood firm and focused.

“Move – now!” she commanded while unsheathing her sword. Her soldiers followed suit. So did Rethul. The first arrows were shot, but did nothing to affect the flying terror. The dragon swooped down and at that moment, one thought hit them all.

“Run!”

Rethul moved as quickly as he could with the heavy armour weighing him down. He stumbled and fell.

This is it, he thought solemnly. This is how I’m going to die.

Behind him, he could feel a heat so intense and unbearable he thought he was being boiled alive. When he eventually managed to stand up and turn around, the grass where they had stood just moments before was engulfed in a terrible blaze. Rethul could see a few of the soldiers scrambling away, trying to reorganize themselves. Irileth was nowhere to be seen. Above, the dragon prepared another attack.

“To the tower, quickly!”

He could hear the voice of the dunmer commander echoing from behind a thick Wall of smoke. Rethul did as he was told and bolted over to the watchtower. The crumbled walls offered shelter – or a good place to hide. He thought about the battle and the chaos it brought. Would anyone notice if he slipped away?

“Hey! Rethul!”

“Huh, yes? “

Svadir was looking down at him from atop the stairs of the tower.

“Help the others keep this thing busy.”

And with that, he was gone.

Rethul took a peek from behind his shelter and saw Irileth and her men fighting the dragon in close combat.

Even if I were to crawl, they’d notice.

Slowly, he dragged himself out of his hiding place and made his way up to his comrades. The dragon was clawing at its attackers and swinging its tail around furiously. Its mighty head lunged out and grabbed the guard in front of it, swinging the poor soldier from side to side. With every swing the soldier screamed louder. Shriller. His agony culminated in an utterly inhuman screech that was abruptly silenced by a grisly crunching sound, breaking through steel and, Rethul swallowed, much worse. The beast flung its helpless victim towards him. He wanted to evade, but the heavy armour would not let him. The weight of the soldier knocked him back against a crumbled wall. Rethul forced his eyes shut, terrified of what he might see. Through the joints of his armour some warm fluid was seeping into his garment followed by the heavy stench of copper.

“Don’t let it be what I think it is. Please don’t let it be what I think it is.”

He repeated his mantra over and over, wanting nothing more than to disappear.

This is all too much! Stop! Please, something - someone, make it stop!

His prayers were answered; a strong arm pulled him out from under the body. Startled, Rethul’s eyes burst open and what he saw made him scream in utter horror: before him lay the corpse of the guardsman. His signature yellow tabard was drenched in blood and in place of his stomach, a labyrinth of intestines stretched across the ground. Rethul screamed and screamed and continued screaming until his rescuer slapped him across the face. It was that other archer - Troels.

“Snap out of it and help us get that thing back up into the air!” he barked and ran to aid another soldier.

Rethul did not understand.

Why do they want it to fly?

The world before him became enveloped in flames and the nauseating stench of burning flesh filled the air. His heart was racing. His breath ragged. Bile was rising in his throat. Rethul fought the desperate urge to vomit. Screams, so shrill and unnatural that he wanted to rip off his ears, echoed across the battlefield. At the edge of his vision, a Whiterun guard stumbled towards a pile of rubble. Flames were eating at his skin until he eventually stopped moving and collapsed.

Rethul was shaking. His eyes were burning from tears and smoke.

Run, he thought. I have to run.

He clenched his fist around his sword.

Get away!

He stepped towards the dragon. The monster stomped and the ground shook beneath his feet.

Flee!

He lurched forward and, with all his might, rammed his sword between the dragon’s claws. The beast roared in pain and shook its huge wings, sending Rethul flying backwards until his head met a few scattered bricks. The beast took off, the sword still stuck in his paw. It circled around the tower before noticing Svadir positioned at its peak. It flew one last circle before changing directions - towards the archer. From his position on the ground Rethul could see how the dragon opened its mighty maw, readying another deadly stream of fire.

No fire. Why is there no fire?

The dragon began to tumble and waver flying dangerously close to -

With a desperate roar, it crashed into the watchtower. Quickly, Rethul pulled his helmet pack into position. Just in time; debris came crashing down all around him. When the dust finally cleared, a good chunk of the tower was gone.

Where is the dragon?

Rethul struggled to get up. He had to find that dragon! He staggered over rubble and corpses, carefully evading the still burning flame patches.

Finally, he found his fellow soldiers. And the dragon. Irileth stood on its head, her sword firmly lodged between monster’s scales. Her hair clung to her forehead, glued to it by a mix of blood and sweat. Her cuirass was stained red, but the blood did not seem to be her own. A triumphant smile was painted on her face.

“Comrades!”, she ripped her sword from the dragon’s skull and raised it towards the smoke-filled sky. “We killed a dragon!”

The soldiers cheered in unison. Irileth climbed off its head.

“But it’s not yet time to celebrate. Spread out! Find those who survived so that they might live to celebrate with us!”

But before the soldiers could obey, something else caught their attention.

“Wha-“

“What’s happening?!?”

“Look! The dragon – it’s glowing!”

And indeed, as soon as Rethul approached, it started glowing stronger and stronger, until it was entirely enveloped in blinding light. The dragon was dissolving into rays of light! Rethul could not help himself. His feet moved on their own. One step, then another, drawn to the dragon like a moth to a flame.

“Don’t get too close!”

Did somebody say something? I could’ve sworn there was-

Rethul felt as though the ground had been ripped from under his feet. Strange images flooded his mind. He saw clouds, but not high up in the sky, no, from above. He was flying! He was soaring through the air. Free. Powerful. Mighty. “Fus” reverberated in his mind, pounding in his ears.

What does that mean?

“Fus”. It sounded so familiar; like a hazy childhood memory. He saw the Western Watchtower below him and flew closer. Arrows were shot by the brave soldiers fighting him, trying to bring him down.

How dare they?!?

He wanted to dominate, to control, to burn them all. He opened his maw and prepared to spew fire, but instead was met with unbearable pain as an arrow pierced through his jaw.

Rethul staggered and fell backwards, landing on his rump. His head hurt, waves of pain rolling over him. Fus! Fus! Fus!

“Are you all right?, Irileth crouched to help him up and pull him back on his feet.

Fus! He needed to let it out, needed to say it, scream it lest it burst out of his skull.

“Fus,” whispered Rethul and Irileth was thrown back, barely catching herself from falling.

“What was that?”

“How did you do that?”

“What kind of magic was that?”

The guards were fussing over him like a group of grandmothers over their newborn grandchild. The word “Dragonborn” travelled from mouth to mouth.

“Everyone, stand back!”, Irileth commanded.

She drew her sword and pointed it Rethul.

“Explain yourself!”

“I- I can’t explain!” Rethul put his hands up hoping she would accept his surrender.

“You’re a dragonborn! A legendary hero who can kill dragons and steal their power!”

Rethul recognized that voice.

“Troels! Good to see you alive, my friend!” Rethul hoped he did not sound too exaggerated. “Could you tell her not to kill me? Please?”

Irileth sneered. He truly must have made for a pathetic image. She sheathed her sword. “Dragonborn or not, we have just slain a dragon. They can be killed, and that is all I need to know,” she turned her attention back to her soldiers. “Don’t rely on legends or prophecy! It doesn’t matter whether some mythical hero or a normal soldier puts a sword through its skull - a dead dragon is a dead dragon either way. That is all that matters!”

“You there,” she pointed at Troels. “Take your ‘dragonborn’ back to Whiterun. Jarl Balgruuf needs to hear of this.”

The archer helped Rethul up, allowing the mer to lean on his broad frame. Dragonborn? That was far more than he could handle.

#skyrim #Elder Scrolls #fanfic #skyrim fanfic #Rethul Balasi #Irileth #my scribbles #gore cw #violence cw #blood cw #dragonborn

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