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3rdgymbros · 3 years

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— title; when is a monster not a monster? (oh, when you love it).

— pairing; zhongli x reader

— summary; in which zhongli loses control and turns into a dragon, but you manage to bring him back.

— notes; i don’t play genshin, so i hope it’s not too ooc !! special thanks to @yuebloom and @degenerate-yandere and @teyvatstories for their support !! if anyone is interested, the song referenced in this fic is called asking the zither and can be found here !!

Screaming.

The sound that sears itself into your ears is like nothing you've never heard before, the hoarse scream of an enraged animal that vibrates through your whole body, scraping over your skin like claws.

With much effort, you finally manage to open your eyes. It's excruciating. Your eyelids feel like they're made of lead. Squinting against the sudden light, you try to sit up, but can only groan as your body erupts into joint-wrenching pains. Your face is wet, and dampness runs down into your collar.

"Ow." You say; at least, that's what you try to say. It comes out as more of an indistinct moan. You have to resist the urge to sink back into that suffocating blackness, somewhere far away, where the pain can't reach you. "Where –"

Another scream. Closer this time. Sounding almost human. Wearily, you raise your head, push yourself onto hands and knees; there’s pain in each of your ribs, one by one, like a xylophone breaking as it plays.

Wind rips at your robes and branches fly by. Dirt and bits of grass are rising and dancing chaotically as though enchanted. Trees fall with a shudder that shakes the earth. A deafening roar sounds above your head, and you look up, amazed, to see a dragon, his silhouette dark against the sun. His scales are a dark, burnished shade of brown, his eyes and horns and spinal plates a bright, vivid amber. The dragon throws back his head and screams, blowing out golden flames with his next exhale.

Even as far away as you are, you can still feel the searing heat, washing over your face, and bringing with it memories, roaring through your mind with vicious velocity. You remember falling to the ground in a bloodied heap, burgundy poison staining your robes. You remember hearing an awful, strangled cry from Rex Lapis, as though he had been the one in pain. And then – nothing.

Staring at the dragon's familiar amber eyes, it isn't so hard to surmise what had happened, how things had taken the worst possible turn.

Now, as a dragon, Rex Lapis has single-handedly managed to turn the tides of battle. Archons and humans alike are turning and fleeing, a mass exodus intent on escaping from this unstoppable force of nature. The dragon lands on the scorched earth, unleashing flames and teeth and claws. You watch his head crane around at the end of that long serpentine neck, watch as his tail lashes sideways and catches a man making his escape, breaking him in two. You have to choke back the urge to vomit, swallowing back your own fear. Blood, and sticky smoke clings to you.

“Rex Lapis!” You scream, unsure if he can hear you. “REX LAPIS!”

His head turns. Smoke rises between his teeth. He sweeps his tail again, sending up a choking storm of dust and sand. You stumble into the cloud of darkness and smoke with a cough. He snaps, flashing razor sharp teeth and claws. The black teeth close inches away from your face.

No, you want to say. Not me, no, no, don't you remember me?

Your chest constricts tightly, practically squeezing your throat shut with panic. The sand is in your eyes now. Stinging, blinding, filling them with tears. Stumbling back, you tumble to the ground once again. Your back and head absorb the brunt of the landing. Warmth drips down your cheeks. You aren't sure if it’s blood, sweat, tears, or a mixture of all three fluids.

Rex Lapis roars, a sound of fury, daring anyone to challenge him. The sound fills your ears. A furnace wind engulfs you. The dragon’s long scaled neck stretches out towards you. His eyes are molten. Panic shivers up your spine. Your mouth is dry, no matter how often you swallow, but you can't – don't dare to – look away.

For the first time in your life, you're scared of Rex Lapis.

He's known to all as the God of War, and you've lost count of the number of times he's personally brought his enemies to their end, but he's always treated you with a guarded tenderness, and you've never felt anything but safe in his presence, as though nothing else in the world had existed but you and him.

Now, Rex Lapis roars full in your face, his breath hot enough to blister skin.

"Rex Lapis." You choke out, barely able to catch your breath. Ash and cinders scorch your throat. “Rex Lapis. It’s [ NAME ]. You remember me, right?”

In the smoldering pits of his eyes, you can see your own reflection. How small you look, how weak and frail and scared. Rex Lapis is looking at you, but he isn’t seeing you. As if sensing danger, your skin prickles, power calling to you. It buzzes through your heart and mind. You imagine vines and thorns erupting from the ground, the green tendrils consuming everyone and everything in their path. For an instant, you think about ending the battle. Enough blood has been shed. You're tired of fighting. You could do it; it would even be easy. But then you look into those eyes, lakes of molten gold, and a lead weight settles upon your shoulders. Your heart gives up, exploding, bursting like a balloon.

Not on him, you think. You can't hurt him. Not when he’s like this; scared, in pain, reeling.

Rex Lapis roars again, the sound full of fear and fury, full of pain. His teeth snap at you, inches away from your face.

“REX LAPIS!”

The dragon jerks his head back.

“Stop!”

Behind a fence of sharp black teeth you glimpse a furnace glow, the shimmer of a sleeping fire. Wisps of smoke spiral upward from the dragon’s nostrils. You can barely see through your tears, but you stare at Rex Lapis until he meets your gaze again. Your legs are quivering, but you fear that if you turn and run now, he truly will be lost to you.

“It’s okay. Rex Lapis, it’s okay. I won’t let anyone hurt you, so please –” You can't finish as your voice breaks, and you're reduced to coughing, trying to clear the sobs caught in your throat. You've expected the terror to abate at your words, or your heart to stop shattering, but it doesn't. It just makes it worse. "Please –"

Please come back.

Come back to me.

His long serpentine neck bends like an archer’s bow, preparing to rain down hellfire again. You swallow past the fear, past the lump of waterworks wedged deep in your throat.

"I used to sing to you. In the gardens, in the afternoons. When you were taking your tea." You say, quietly, quietly, even as something in the pit of your stomach falls away. "Do you remember?"

The dragon looks at you, his gaze lingering for the span of three long heartbeats. You think you see a flicker of awareness. Brief, but it's there.

It feels as though all the air has been squeezed out of your lungs, but still, you sing. You owe it to him, to this god who extended his hand to you in friendship, who offered you warmth and companionship and protection, a home to call your own. Your voice is soft, softer than you've ever heard it.

The night is tender, cold springs ripple. Memories surface in my reflections. I play a song, you smile once more in my dreams.

The words are like a silk shawl, light and cool. You can smell wild roses, fresh-cut hay, bonfires. Grass springs up between your toes, and the earth warms beneath the soles of your feet.

Yours is the only voice that you can hear, the shouts and screams and the world falling away into nothing. Nothing exists except for this, except for your song, the rawness of your throat, pushing the words and a shaky melody out into the still, warm air.

And the dragon listens.

He bends his dark head, and with a last hiss, coils himself around your body like a great serpent, resting his head upon your lap. You can feel him relax, feel him sinking into the earth and into you. His scales are hot to the touch, like armor left too long in the sun.

Still, you continue singing, gentle and reassuring as your hands stroke over his scales, tracing the ragged grooves of his horns. You wish for your touch to be enough, for your voice to bring him back. The dragon slips away from you with a deep exhalation.

You're still holding him close, until long after the sun sets, when the glossy dark scales have melted away, and Rex Lapis lies upon your lap, a man once more.

#zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli imagines #zhongli headcanons #zhongli reader inserts #genshin impact headcanons #genshin headcanons #genshin impact reader insert #genshin reader insert #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact #genshin #♥ || sam writes.#;; hahahahah the more i stare the worse it gets

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balaroo · 3 years

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Negative Reinforcement

Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku one shot.

Summary: Bakugou Katsuki was the last person who should be picked to give emotional support- especially when he's stuck in a hospital room and bored out of his mind, but Izuku had shut down after their battle with Shigaraki, blaming himself for not being able to stop the carnage. When not even their classmates can pull him out of his mood Katsuki takes it into his own hands.

Aka, Katsuki has to cheer up Izuku and it goes surprisingly well.

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Midoriya Izuku Needs A Hug, Soft Bakugou Katsuki, Worried Bakugou Katsuki, he's trying his best, It Can Be Read As Platonic But Who Am I Kidding, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Cuddling, Bakugou Katsuki Swears A Lot, Bakugou Katsuki is Bad at Feelings, Bakugou Katsuki is a Good Friend, Post War Arc, not spoiler free, no beta we die like nighteye, this is so self indulgent you have no idea, Depressed Midoriya Izuku, Midoriya Izuku Feels Guilty, One Shot, short and sweet

Author’s Notes: I'm not really happy with how this turned out honestly. I loved the idea but I struggled to write it well, forgive me. Anyway, wanted to post it before the leaks for the new chapter come out and break me. This is my fluffy interpretation of what should happen but watch Hori stamp on my dreams.

Set right after chapter 296, there are many spoilers ahead and a few guesses about what will happen next! Thank you for reading and please leave some constructive feedback if you can! I'm still very new to writing fics like this.

Cross posted on my AO3 account, the link to which is in my bio if you’d prefer to read it there.

Rest of the work below the line!

Negative Reinforcement

If there were two things Katsuki hated more than he hated everything else the first would be hospitals. The sour smell of disinfectant that clung to each surface and the constant background hum of machines slowly drove him insane, that combined with Katsuki's own opinion that he'd spent enough time in the damned places already did not make them appealing to him. The second most hated thing would be dealing with other people's emotions. Hell- it was tiring enough having to figure out his own, let alone being expected to somehow know what other people were feeling and even if he got that bit right he was still meant to act accordingly. It was exhausting, so he tried to avoid it whenever he could. In this situation, avoiding it was not possible.

When Katsuki first woke up his thoughts had been jumbled, fleeting and fearful, considering the last thing he could remember was bleeding out in a ruined city it seemed fair enough. The room had been dark, cast in shadow with only the soft flashing lights of various medical devices to give any indication that Katsuki hadn’t been thrown into a void. He’d tossed fitfully in the hospital bed for a second, not quite grasping his surroundings and cried out as white-hot pain shot across his chest as if someone were tugging on his insides. “Kacchan?” The familiar voice was quiet but echoed with desperation and Katsuki frantically sought out its source, twisting his head, eyes finally adjusting to the gloom until he could make out a dark mound on the far side of the room that was moving. Katsuki finally separated the figure from the pile of blankets and pillows, ruffled hair stuck out in all directions and if he tried hard enough, Katsuki had been able to make out the faint gleam of green eyes piercing through the darkness locked directly onto him. “Thank goodness.” Izuku breathed as he saw Katsuki twist to look at him, his form slumped again, fading back into the shapeless mass of the hospital bed and Katsuki twitched anxiously in response. He felt completely disorientated, the thoughts in his head were moving too fast to pin down.

He’d tried to respond but his mouth felt dry and his tongue heavy, barely managing to rasp Izuku’s name in a thick croaky voice he wasn’t sure the other could even hear, struggling to lift the medicated fog that wrapped heavily around his mind like a thick blanket. Mingled feelings of relief and fear flitted around his head as he began to remember the carnage and bloodshed- Izuku was here, he had made it out and that alone calmed Katsuki enough to relax back into the bed. But what about everyone else? Their classmates had been fighting their own battles all over the city. He had barely been able to focus but managed to form a few words, “The others?” Each breath, every swallow and twitch of his head sent fresh waves of pain rippling through his body, black spots threatened to overcome his vision but he fought through it. He could almost feel the other boy hesitating, it made him more distressed. “The class is fine.” Izuku had told him at last in a heavy voice, “You should go back to sleep.” Katsuki could remember thinking how defeated the other teen sounded. He’d ground his teeth together, feeling frustration building in the pit of his stomach that he was so helpless, unable to do anything more than shake and let his eyes fall shut again, slipping back into a fitful rest.

He woke the next day, feeling much more himself and determined to find out exactly what had happened but was immediately shut down by Recovery Girl who insisted he had to stay in bed or risk an even longer ban from training. Though, if he was honest, he wasn’t sure if he would’ve been able to stand up, let alone shake someone down for answers. Katsuki then tried to interrogate Izuku about it but the freckled nerd was annoyingly quiet for a change, spending most of his time with his back to Katsuki facing the bare white walls of the room. It was worrying, to say the least. Katsuki tried to tell himself that Izuku was just recovering from the wounds he’d sustained from All For One, damage that might not ever heal according to Recovery Girl. Izuku might never be able to use his arms in battle again.

Another day crawled by insufferably slowly. The only people allowed in their room had been Recovery Girl and a few different nurses who would bring food and water, all of which had clammed up the second Katsuki tried to ask them for news. He was frustrated with being talked over again and again, his hands tingled with a need to blow something up. So even by his own standards, he was in a lousy mood when their classmates were finally able to visit. Recovery Girl had forbidden the entire class from coming, “Only a few at a time.” She’d said as she’d been checking on their bandages, “If either of you reopens your wounds then I’ll have to put in overtime, and I won’t be quite so nice.” Katsuki snorted, tapping his fingers against the side of the bed impatiently. He’d spent the morning trying to coax a conversation out of Izuku. Well, not so much coax as annoy or tease, but they were solid tactics that usually got a reaction. Today, however, he got nothing more than one-word replies until Katsuki had gotten so annoyed he’d just given up completely. He’d prefer it if Izuku would just yell at him, yelling he understood. Just say Katsuki had made him mad, anything other than this stony silence. It had Katsuki on edge.

He was brought back to the present as he saw Izuku move so he was sat up in the bed facing the door. Katsuki could finally see his face properly for the first time. It looked drawn and tired, eyes that were usually bright stared blankly at the wall and there were dark bags under them. Katsuki briefly wondered how much Izuku had actually been sleeping while he was turned away from him. He thought again about trying to get his attention but then the door swung open, banging against the wall noisily and making Recovery Girl tsk in irritation. Iida was the first through the door, his face was still bruised slightly in places and his wrist had some kind of support on it but other than that he seemed okay. “We are here to represent the class!” The dark-haired teen announced. His good hand gripped a mixture of brightly coloured heart-shaped balloons all with ‘ Get well soon!’ scrawled across them. Katsuki’s eye twitched. He’d never wanted to leave a room more than he had at this moment. The others were filing in now. Including Iida, Uraraka, Todoroki, Mina, Kirishima, and Sero were the first ones who’d come to see them. They all bore marks of the battle in some way shape or form. Todoroki had a bandage wrapped around part of his face and Kirishima’s left arm was heavily bandaged. The rest had scratches that had been taped up but it was their expressions that made Katsuki realise something was wrong.

They entered the room with forced smiles which were surprisingly eerie and didn’t match the dullness in their eyes. They all looked so tired. Though when they saw Katsuki and Izuku both sat up in their beds, watching them, they did seem to brighten up. Mina was the first to move forwards, dropping to perch on the edge of Katsuki’s bed with a loud exhalation, “You two had us all worried!” Iida was now tying his balloons to the leg of a table between the two beds and Uraraka hurried forwards carrying an assortment of chocolate that she put on the table as well. She then turned to Izuku with a nervous smile. He was regarding their classmates with a far-away look in his eyes but he did meet Uraraka’s gaze. “We uh- got those mint chocolates you like.” She began awkwardly, “How are you feeling?” Katsuki watched the exchange with narrowed eyes. He could tell she was taken aback by Izuku’s state but she was doing a poor job of hiding it. For a moment Katsuki wasn’t sure if the green-haired boy was even going to respond, then, at last, he smiled faintly, though it seemed more like a grimace, and said, “I’m okay.” A brief rush of relief hit Katsuki as he saw the boy sit up a little more, though he still had that glazed expression.

Then Katsuki’s view of them was blocked by Sero and Kirishima who moved a few of the visitors' chairs to crowd around his bed. “It’s so good to see you, man!” Kirishima exclaimed, he had a grin on his face and patted Katsuki on his non-bandaged shoulder as he sat down. “They told us you guys were fine but they wouldn’t let anyone come near you. Are you doing okay?” Katsuki growled and picked at a spot on his bedsheet where the thread had come loose, “I’m just about ready to break out of here, consequences be fucked.” Sero chuckled sympathetically and glanced around at the very clean, very sparse room, “Pretty bored then huh?” Katsuki’s patience was thinning rapidly. He was glad to see them all in one piece but if he had to walk around social niceties to get a straight answer from someone he really was going to lose it. “Not just that,” He snapped, “No one here will tell me anything. What the hell happened after the battle?” He didn’t miss the way Mina caught Kirishima’s eye with a startled expression as he turned to look at each of them in turn. When no one offered up a quick answer Katsuki had to stifle another growl, they were holding something back from him and he knew it. “I know we’re here because the bastard set his Nomu’s loose or whatever and they thought they’d come after us, but why hasn’t anyone told us anything? All Mig-” Katsuki broke off and stared bitterly at his hands. He’d been about to say All Might hasn’t even been to see Deku but he didn’t want Izuku to overhear him. He could hear Todoroki talking faintly in the background so he hoped the other invalid teen hadn’t been listening to him about to point out the obvious but Katsuki was mad the former symbol of peace hadn’t been to see them yet. If anyone could pull Izuku out of whatever stupid funk he was in, it would be All Might.

“Bakugou…” Kirishima started warily, “A lot happened, we’re-” He stopped mid-sentence and glanced helplessly at Sero. “We’re not supposed to say much.” Sero finished for the redhead, “They said you needed more time to heal befo-” “Fuck that.” Katsuki snarled, his stomach was twisted into knots with anticipation. He wanted to stomp his foot like a child. Maybe break something against a wall. If they left without giving him any answers he didn’t know how much longer he’d have to wait to have another chance. They were all watching him with concern and Katsuki realised he’d been gripping the covers tightly in his fists. He let go quickly but he’d already left scorch marks smouldering in the pale blue sheets. He struggled to relax his jaw and tried again, “If I have to lie here one more day without knowing what’s going on out there, I really will get out of bed and find out myself. That sound like a great way to heal to you?”

It was Sero who broke first, “I guess, I don’t think I could stay still either.” He admitted, looking at Kirishima who sighed but murmured in agreement. “He does have a point,” Mina said from where she was still sitting at the end of the bed, “And I wouldn’t put it past him to sneak out.” She stuck her tongue out playfully as Katsuki glowered at her, but he was silently glad to see her acting normal. Kirishima breathed out heavily, slumping forwards in the chair and meeting Katsuki’s gaze. “What do you want to know first?” “How is everyone?” Katsuki asked immediately, “We could only get them to tell us no one else from the class was in hospital but that was pretty much it.” Smiling softly, Kirishima nodded, “Everyone’s okay. Kaminari wanted to come today but he’s still on bed rest.” He waved a hand as Katsuki opened his mouth, “Just in his dorm. He got a pretty bad knock to the head but he’s fine, really.” Katsuki closed his mouth and eyed the others quietly. There was still something they hadn’t told him, he could see it in their faces, in the smiles that looked too fake and the unspoken grief he could feel around them.

“What happened?” Was all he asked, “Something went wrong, didn’t it?” He could almost see their facade’s failing, Kirishima wouldn’t meet his eyes now and seemed very interested in his hands while Sero leaned further back into his chair, tugging subconsciously at the hem of his shirt. Mina’s head dropped and Katsuki could see her bottom lip trembling as she stared down at the floor, when Kirishima offered a hand to her she took it and clutched it tightly, like a lifeline. Her entire demeanour changed in a few short moments. Whatever had happened, it really distressed her. There was another silent moment before Kirishima started talking again, “You were there when Aizawa sensei was hit with a quirk deleter round?” Katsuki nodded grimly, “He took his own leg off, I saw.” The redhead winced, “He’s still recovering, it was bad.” “But he’ll be okay?” It was Sero who answered, “We haven’t been able to see him yet but Shinsou said he’s doing better.” Katsuki wanted to relax but the other’s tone of voice sounded heavy. “There’s something else…” Kirishima began, “When we were trying to keep Gigantomachia from reaching the city we…” Another deep breath and his bright red eyes looked watery. “We lost Midnight.” Mina’s shoulders shook and her body convulsed in a choked sob but Katsuki could only stare in disbelief. Midnight had been their teacher for almost a year, she couldn’t just be gone. Katsuki’s focus wavered, his mind drifting. He could tell from their reactions what they meant and felt a deep pit open in his stomach. After everything that had happened, all the fighting, he never thought they’d actually lose someone. God, he was fucking naive.

The others gave him a little while to process it and Katsuki found himself wishing for the umpteenth time that he was anywhere else. “Bakugou?” Sero asked eventually and Katsuki quickly returned his attention to them. Mina’s eyes were red around the edges and he knew now why they all looked so drained. “How did it happen?” He managed to ask. His body felt oddly numb but when he spoke his voice sounded unsteady, even to himself. Mina leant forwards and breathed out shakily, “W- we don’t really know. We hadn’t heard from her and then we just found her, lying there.” Tears trailed down her pink cheeks and she lifted her free hand as if she was reaching for something. “I was- I held her hand.” Her voice ended in a whisper, dark eyes hazy. Katsuki shifted uncomfortably, glancing away. He didn’t like being confined in one space for moments like this, it made him feel nervous as if he were trapped. Kirishima was trying to comfort Mina though he seemed just as broken down himself. Sero watched them sadly for a moment before glancing back at Katsuki, “Other heroes were killed too. No one we knew well but they got the number 6 hero, Crust.” The dark-haired teen hesitated before continuing as if he wasn’t sure how much he should say. “Most of the big heroes are out of action. Hawks and Endeavour are still in bad condition, Miruko as well. But they’ll heal.” He sounded unsure of himself. The numbness settled a little deeper into Katsuki and he closed his eyes. All the destruction he’d seen from Shigaraki’s quirk and then Gigantomachia tearing the city apart, he didn’t want to ask about civilian casualties.

There was silence then, nothing more to say really. Sero returned to consoling the other two, whether he was unsure of how to do the same for Katsuki or thought the blonde wanted the space Katsuki couldn’t tell, but he was grateful for it. During the break from their conversation, he tried to focus on what his other classmates were saying to Izuku. They’d arranged themselves near the freckled teen’s head and Uraraka was saying something in an upbeat voice. “Recovery Girl said you’d be okay to go outside for a bit,” the round-faced girl was saying, “Stretch your legs, maybe see Eri. She’s worried about you.” Todoroki and Iida murmured agreement but Katsuki could make out Izuku’s face between Kirishima and Sero now, he still had his eyes fixed downwards with that subdued look on his face. Katsuki wondered if they’d told Izuku about Midnight or if they thought he couldn’t handle it yet. “Maybe.” Izuku replied, Katsuki was vaguely relieved to hear this voice sounding a little louder, “I’m still really tired.” Uraraka and Iida exchanged glances. “We can uh- leave you to rest a bit more?” Iida asked though he sounded like he didn’t want to. When Izuku simply nodded mutely and settled back down into the bed, turning to face his back to them, Iida’s face fell. He said something quietly to Todoroki and Uraraka that Katsuki couldn’t make out but the three of them got up and made their way dejectedly towards Mina and the others. Katsuki wanted to yell at them to keep talking to him but he just stared worriedly at Izuku’s back, if he was refusing to talk to his friends, how could Katsuki get him to say anything?

Uraraka joined Mina at the foot of the bed, Katsuki felt the mattress shift beneath her weight as she put her head in her hands. Mina patted her on the back and Iida stood in front of her, looking concerned. Todoroki had come to stand closer to the Katsuki. He leaned forwards slightly, “Has he said anything to you?” He asked quietly, his eyes were anxious and Katsuki knew he was just as worried about Izuku. Katsuki wrinkled his face, not pleased with the fact he hadn’t, “No.” He returned to picking at the loose thread on his mattress. For a second, he thought he saw Todoroki smile faintly as if Katsuki’s reaction had amused him. But when he looked up, it was gone. “I feel so helpless,” Uraraka said through her hands, catching the blonde’s attention again. “He’s just…” She trailed off miserably and looked back up at the rest of them. Iida reached out to rest his hand tentatively on her shoulder and squeezed it gently. She gave him a weak smile in reply but still looked close to tears. Katsuki hated to agree with her but as he glanced across at the pitiful figure of Izuku, still curled up against the wall, his heart thumped uncomfortably hard in his chest. He felt like he needed to confront something, preferably something physical. If he could just get out of bed and blow off some steam maybe he’d be able to think clearly. But no. He was trapped here, in bed, with a bunch of emotional teenagers and no anger outlet. Definitely a worst-case scenario.

Katsuki finally drew his eyes away from Izuku as he saw Kirishima shift in his chair. He exchanged an apprehensive look with Sero and opened his mouth as if he were going to say something more. “Bakugou...” But Iida cut in before he could get anywhere. “We should let you get some rest.” Iida fixed Kirishima with a pointed look and the spiky-haired teen glanced away, still looking guilty. They all made a move to get up but Katsuki spoke first. He wasn’t going to let them leave without telling him the truth. The whole truth. “What are you hiding from me now?” He demanded, his voice bitter. He’d had enough of all the secrets now. More glances were exchanged between the visiting party and Katsuki furrowed his brow even deeper. “Tell me or get the fuck out.” He snapped at them, patience far beyond gone. If they wanted to keep shit from him, that was fine. Well, it wasn’t actually but he didn’t want them here if that was the case and if they kept looking at him like some fragile thing he was going to go feral.

Iida sighed at Katsuki’s brash tone and pushed his glasses further up his nose. He cast a look over his shoulder at where Izuku lay unmoving and shuffled closer to Katsuki, speaking in a low voice as if he didn’t want the other teen to hear him. “None of the teachers wanted us to tell you, but…” Another pause as he built up the nerve to continue. Katsuki blinked in surprise and his anger faded slightly. Iida going rogue? The strict class representative was finally getting interesting. Iida stole a glance at where Recovery Girl was sitting in her usual chair in the far corner, head bowed as if she were dozing. She certainly wasn’t paying them any attention. “You’re being kept behind U.A’s defences because not long after Shigaraki disappeared, he sent his Nomu’s to Tartarus.” A cold feeling was beginning to settle in Katsuki’s stomach, “All For One’s prison.” He murmured. Iida nodded gravely, “Yes. Most of the top pro-heroes were still out of action or unaccounted for- There was no one to stop him. He took back his real body and broke out some more nasty criminals along the way. No one’s seen him since.”

If All For One had his body back and control of Shigaraki’s powers as well as the Nomu, everything they’d sacrificed… Had it done anything? Katsuki shook his head as if shaking away the thought. No, he couldn’t think like that. They’d saved most of the city just by holding Shigaraki down, Gigantomachia too, it hadn’t been useless. He side-eyed Izuku’s bed again. Was it just his imagination or had the boy shifted slightly in his peripheral vision? Returning his attention to the others, Katsuki clenched his fists. Though he wasn’t happy that they were being guarded, he could admit it made a lot of sense. The U.A Barrier was pretty formidable but he wasn’t sure it could hold off the bastard if he really wanted to get to them. Another flicker of movement in the corner of his eye and Katsuki was sure of it now. “You should go.” He said to them. Kirishima started, “W- Bakugou, are-” Rolling his eyes, Katsuki interrupted him. “I’m sure, Shitty-Hair. Get going, I want to sleep.” The redhead hesitated then nodded slowly and got up. The others said their goodbyes and did the same, stacking the visitors’ chairs back up and piling them in the corner before heading for the door.

Katsuki was so focused on watching Izuku for more movement he didn’t realise Todoroki was lingering by the edge of his bed until he coughed. The other teen kept his voice low as he said to Katsuki, “You’ll talk to him, won’t you?” Katsuki knew what he meant instantly and scowled, “What do you think I’m doing, bastard?” Now piss off.” Todoroki backed off, but Katsuki could see that same knowing smile on his face as he turned away. Though he tried not to focus on it, Katsuki’s face felt flushed and he glared angrily at Todoroki’s retreating back. Soon, their classmates were gone and the room felt bare once again. Though Katsuki had been sure Recovery Girl was asleep, the moment the door swung shut she got slowly to her feet. The old medic gave Katsuki a wry smile. “I’ve got other things to get done. You two rest.” She paused, “and heal .” The emphasis she put on the last word made Katsuki uncomfortable again and he was sure she knew exactly what they’d been talking about. Then she left and it was just the two of them.

Katsuki took a deep breath and glanced across at the other bed. Izuku was still, his back turned to the room, looking pretty much dead to the world like he had done for the last few days. But Katsuki had been sure he’d seen him twitch when Iida had spoken of All For One. He was awake, and he must have heard what their classmates had said. “You should talk to them.” He said before he could lose his nerve. Izuku stiffened from across the room and Katsuki waited before continuing, “They’re worried about you.” The silence between them stretched longer and Katsuki was sure Izuku would just ignore him as he had done since he’d woken up here until finally, he shifted. “And tell them what?” The green-haired boy’s voice sounded so tired and bitter that Katsuki winced. He’d never seen Izuku so hopeless before. He’d always been the first to bounce back from everything, it was one of his most irritating qualities. “The truth. They want to help you, idiot.” More silence, then at last, “What is the truth?” Even quieter than before and Katsuki had to strain to hear it. Katsuki blinked, “Huh?” What the hell was he talking about? Izuku rolled onto his back and Katsuki caught a glimpse of his face. It was streaked with tears, more running silently down his cheeks and Katsuki’s chest tightened painfully. “The truth,” Izuku repeated, his voice catching in his throat. “That I wasn’t able to stop All For One. I was given this power to be a hero and I couldn’t even protect the people I care about the most.” Katsuki gawked incredulously at him, “ That’s what you’ve been upset about?” He demanded, “You have got to be the thickest person I h-” He broke off abruptly as Izuku lifted one of his heavily bandaged arms in front of his face. “Hey! Stop it. You’re not supposed to move them.” But the freckled teen didn’t seem to hear him, “All For One was right.” He murmured, “I’m worthless, I don’t deserve this power.”

Katsuki could only stare at him in shock- It was one of the last things he’d expected Izuku to be hung up over after everything he’d seen him accomplish in a single year. He struggled vainly to find something to say. This was the exact opposite of what he was good at. Izuku had dropped his hand back to his side, staring emptily at the ceiling, and Katsuki’s stomach twisted painfully again. Part of him just wanted to yell at the dumbass about how, well, dumb he was being. Could he not see everything he’d done? All the lives he’d saved? But his mouth felt thick and heavy, his heart pounded so loud now and he had to bite down on his tongue to stop from cursing himself. This was pathetic, not even able to tell Izuku, someone he’d been willing to die for, that he was impressed with him. What kind of person did he have to be to find jumping in front of those spikes easier than admitting he was wrong? If he was doing this it would be his way. The first step was to make Izuku realise how stupid he sounded.

“Deku.” He said after a few minutes of silence had passed, “Come here a second.” Wide confused eyes stared at him, “W-what?” “Come here.” He repeated. “Why?” Katsuki’s eye twitched, “Because I can’t get up and- Fuck’s sake, just move it!” The bedsheets rustled softly as Izuku pushed them aside and slowly got up. It was a bit awkward, not being able to use his arms to prop himself up, but he managed it and then stood there, pausing for a moment before he walked cautiously over to where Katsuki lay. He stopped near the top of the bed and Katsuki huffed in annoyance, beckoning the other one closer. Izuku still looked confused but shuffled another few steps forwards, leaning down until he was close enough for Katsuki to whack him upside the head. It wasn’t a particularly hard hit but Izuku still yelped and stared at Katsuki in disbelief, “What was that for?!” He whined loudly. Katsuki couldn’t help but smile slightly at the indignance in his voice, it felt like a long time since Izuku’s voice had sounded anything but broken. “Negative reinforcement,” he said, “When you say something stupid about yourself, I get to hit you.” Narrowed green eyes met his own but he was sure they seemed more focused than before. Katsuki sighed, shifting in his bed. “You really think you didn’t do anything to help?”

Izuku was watching him closely, his expression clouded with an emotion Katsuki couldn’t bring himself to figure out. But he didn’t reply so Katsuki continued. “For starters, the second you realised Shigaraki could track you, you led him away from the evacuation. Which was pretty fucking stupid because you tried to do it without telling anyone.” Izuku snorted but didn’t interrupt, he’d stopped crying now which was a win, right? Katsuki had to tear his eyes away from the teen, the itchiness he felt was back, crawling all over his skin until he ground his teeth together, hard. “Then you unlocked float,” Katsuki counted it down on his fingers as if he were making a list, “ And used blackwhip to keep everyone from being destroyed by decay.” Another finger down. “Kacchan…” Izuku said hesitantly and Katsuki glanced back up at him. Freckles stood out against a bright red face and he took another step forwards so he was right next to Katsuki’s bed. Katsuki raised an eyebrow, he was sure his own face was flushed too but he managed to keep his voice steady as he said, “What? Are you saying you didn’t do that?” Izuku shook his head slowly and Katsuki could swear he saw the hint of a smile begin to tug at his lips. “Exactly. Now shut the fuck up and let me tell it.” He heard a soft chuckle to his side and blinked rapidly, trying to remember where he’d stopped. It was an effort to keep talking. He didn’t like that reassuring someone else meant he had to say embarrassing things like this. “You managed to stop All For One from stealing your power then still got up and kept fighting him again. Am I missing anything?” Izuku was stood with his bowed, dark hair in his face but Katsuki could hear him sniffing and figured he was crying again.

Shoulders shaking slightly, Izuku looked back up and yep. He was definitely crying again. “I could only do that because you saved me! You, Lemillion, Todoroki, Iida, you all helped me. And I couldn’t even stop you from getting hurt!” Another sob shook him, “If I can’t protect the people I care about, what good am I?” Katsuki frowned and rapped Izuku’s head with his knuckles again. It wasn’t as hard as the first time, more like he was trying to knock some sense into him but it still made Izuku start. He stared at him, the tears in his eyes glittered in the harsh hospital lights and Katsuki faltered. He was sure his stomach was now trying to escape his body by making him want to throw it up but he drew in another breath to steady himself. “That’s our job, dumbass. We’re all trying to save as many people as we can.” Izuku shook his head, he moved forwards somewhat uncertainly to perch on the edge of the bed. It dipped slightly under his weigh and Katsuki moved further back towards the wall so Izuku could turn to face him, now sitting cross-legged on the sheets which took a degree of shuffling around. Katsuki was very aware of how Izuku’s knees were pressed against his side on the small space. It was through the sheets but he was sure he could feel it. When the other didn’t say anything about their new position, Izuku started again. “With One For All though, I’m meant to save everyone. That’s what I was given it for.” His gaze fell again, “Midnight, everyone who was killed, I should’ve saved them. But I couldn’t do it. I shouldn’t have this power.” He went silent, looking even more miserable. “They told you?” Katsuki asked. He tried to stay quiet but he was surprised Iida or either of the others would’ve said anything to him. Izuku shook his head glumly, “I heard the nurses talking when they thought I was asleep.”

Katsuki regarded him with a sad expression, that must’ve been why he’d been in such a slump, learning that their teacher was killed for the very thing he believed he should’ve prevented. He’d had the worlds biggest burden dropped on his shoulders in the middle of a war, but he wouldn’t ask anyone to help him carry it. Which was Katsuki’s fault. All through their childhood and then their teenage years, Izuku had just wanted to be included, he always tried so hard never to be a burden. Izuku glanced back up as he heard the other boy sigh, his face tinged pink, probably from all the crying, and Katsuki tried again. “Deku. You can’t save everyone, not all the time.” Izuku flinched and Katsuki hurried on, “Not even All Might could do that so stop putting so much pressure on yourself.” Those bright eyes were staring at him so intensely now but Katsuki couldn’t stop, Izuku had to hear this. He swallowed dryly, “All For One, One for All, they’re both cursed powers.” Izuku tilted his head to the side, “They’re not the same though,” He protested, “One For All is meant to help people.” Shaking his head, Katsuki struggled to sit up taller, ignoring Izuku’s worried protests. He had to make Izuku understand this. It was something he’d realised pretty soon after All Might told them about the other wielders of Izuku’s power.

“Just fucking listen, okay. One For All is only as good as whoever uses it. Every one of its past users died alone, trying to stop All For One because they thought like you. They thought they had to fight that bastard on their own so no one else would get hurt, but that’s exactly why they all died.” He stared straight into Izuku’s eyes, willing him to realise it. “If you keep trying to win by yourself then you’ll get killed. You have to let other people help you.” “But what if you get hurt again? What if you get killed? I don’t want that to happen!” Izuku’s voice was insistent, his eyes were set in the way Katsuki could tell he was going to be stubborn about it and his own temper flared up in retaliation. “What, and you think I’ll be okay if you die?!” The words were out of his mouth before he could think about them but he felt the heat creeping into his face as he realised what he said. It did succeed in silencing Izuku however, and Katsuki took the opportunity to keep talking. “Even if you did manage to defeat All For One, it wouldn’t be a victory for any of us-” He willed himself to say it again, “For me, if you get killed.” The heat was now spreading down his neck and he dropped his head to avoid Izuku’s gaze, frustration or something else was making his own vision blurry. The other boy was quiet and Katsuki very much wanted to curl up in a hole somewhere and think about what he’d just said for a few years or so. He resented how difficult this was. Neither of them moved until Katsuki heard Izuku sniff. He looked up in surprise to see more tears on the boys face. Had he said something wrong? Katsuki started to move forward and opened his mouth but Izuku shook his head, rubbing the tears off his cheeks with his shoulder. “Sorry, Kacchan. I’m just-” He sounded hoarse but there was a soft smile on his face, “When I was fighting Shigaraki, all I could think about was what would happen to you and everyone else that I-” “That you didn’t think about yourself.” Katsuki finished with a sigh, “I fucking hate that about you. Can’t be a hero if you’re dead, can you?” He’d meant it to be a rebuke but Izuku’s smile widened even more and he laughed. A proper laugh, the first time Katsuki had heard in what felt like forever, and he couldn’t help but relax at the sound of it. Okay, this sucked and he felt itchy all over, but it was rewarding to see the enthusiasm return to Izuku’s face.

The laugh faded and Izuku returned to staring at Katsuki with such a fond expression that he felt a sharp twinge of guilt in his gut. He knew Izuku had only ever wanted to be close again, like how it had been when they were kids, and he was still waiting after everything that Katsuki had done to him. Part of him wished Izuku would just hate him, it would be easier to understand for one thing. “Kacchan, thank you.” The soft voice broke him out of his thoughts, “Everything All For One said to me…” He trailed off and stared at his arms, still thickly bandaged and splinted. “I thought I had gotten past it but it made me feel so useless. I guess I’m still just Deku.” He said it so sadly that Katsuki felt the twinge grow into a gut-wrenching pain. That stupid nickname. Izuku had tried to reclaim it but it seemed he didn’t really believe it himself. Katsuki probably could have pulled his heart right out of his throat at this point, “Well, duh, Deku. You said you were always gonna try your best, right?” He tried to make it sound casual, but he was admitting to something he'd known for a while. That Deku hadn't meant worthless for a very long time.

The look of surprise on Izuku’s face only lasted for a second before his eyes filled with tears yet again, his bottom lip trembling as he sobbed out, “Kacchan.” Then he was launching himself towards Katsuki who promptly stiffened in shock. It was an incredibly uncomfortable hug to manoeuvre, it would've been without the weird position. Izuku couldn’t lift his arms so he sort of squished himself against Katsuki’s side, face mashed between Katsuki’s shoulder and neck. Katsuki’s heart was going haywire, he didn’t even notice the pain in his side and very slowly, he wrapped his good arm around Izuku’s shoulders, patting him clumsily on the back as he cried against his collarbone. “You’re pathetic,” He mumbled, uncomfortable with the silence, “Moping around for days and making everyone worry, bastard.” Izuku laughed between deep breaths, trying to stifle his sobs. “Should’ve said something earlier.” Izuku twisted his head so it was laying on Katsuki’s shoulder, “You’re meant to be nice to me, I’m upset.” He said though Katsuki could feel his lips curved in a smile against his skin. His face felt like it was on fire now, “This is me being nice, and you’re always upset about something.” “I know, thank you.” The other replied. Katsuki’s skin tingled where Izuku’s eyelashes fluttered against his neck, still blinking away tears. Katsuki wasn’t sure what to say after that. It was complicated. He knew Izuku needed him right now, but Katsuki hadn’t done enough to deserve it yet. It felt wrong to be so content that he was the one Izuku reached out for. Just be there for him now, he decided, be there for him and try harder to earn it.

He wasn’t sure exactly when Izuku fell asleep on him. At some point, his breathing evened out and he’d relaxed against Katsuki’s side. The blonde was still too wired to relax. Who knew a conversation could fill him with such adrenaline, he was struggling not to shift around and wake Izuku up. The boy had looked so tired, with everything he’d been holding in it wasn’t a surprise that he’d not gotten any peace. Katsuki hoped he would sleep soundly now. He was still awake when Recovery Girl stepped back into the room. She took one look at the two of them, curled up together on Katsuki’s bed and he was sure she’d say something about how they should be resting in separate beds, maybe she had to check their wounds or something and Izuku would be forced to move. He couldn’t lie that the thought made him a bit panicked. But she simply gave him a strange look, one eyebrow half-raised as if she were asking him a question. When Katsuki didn’t move the old lady shrugged, turning to leave again. She flicked off the light as she did so, leaving the room in dappled shadows as the sun sank lower in the sky. Was it that late already? He hadn’t noticed the time passing by but he was starting to feel tired. Emotions were just as draining, sometimes more so, than being in a fight, and Katsuki certainly felt like a battle had been won in that room today.

With a sigh, Katsuki accepted there wasn’t much more he could do at the moment. The warmth of Izuku against his side made him feel drowsy and he finally gave in- shifting in the bed as carefully as he could until he was lying down. He wrapped his arm a little more firmly against Izuku and smiled faintly as he felt him hum in response, pressing closer to Katsuki’s chest. Izuku was lying on top of the sheets and there wasn’t any way to get him under them without waking him up but there was a spare pile of blankets that rested on the chair closest to Katsuki’s bed and he managed to drag a couple closer to him, draping them over Izuku’s form. With that sorted, Katsuki could relax. He rested his head gently against the mass of green curls and let his eyes drift shut, trying to empty his mind. It didn’t matter if All For One was out to get them or if Izuku’s arms wouldn’t heal right. They were both alive for now, and they would figure it out.

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nagito-kissmaeda · 3 years

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A Lapse in Judgement - Part 3

CHAPTER ONE: A Dangrous Present CHAPTER TWO: A Past Forgotten CHAPTER THREE: A Foreshadowing CHAPTER FOUR: One Possible Conclusion CHAPTER FIVE: Untethered

Komaeda Nagito x Ultimate Empath!Reader: NSFW

Summary: Maybe if you had just paid more attention. Things would have been different. Contains: she/her pronouns, penetrative sex, wall sex, fingering, choking, referenced canon character death Read on AO3

Hinata doesn't meet your eyes when you bump into him on the way back to your room in Grape House. It was the sort of thing that seemed like an act of politeness, but he had been avoiding your line of sight since he learned how your talent worked. He is not a person who likes to have his emotions visible to others.

“Are you okay?” He asks, looking pointedly at the floor

“As i can be.” You sigh, “I'm going to rest in my room until Souda gets the elevator fixed. Being around everyone while they’re feeling like-” Hinata stiffens and somehow manages to look even further from you. Because you are polite, you pretend not to notice. “Well, you saw how Owari was doing. I'm not going to be much help if I'm crying, so I'll rest until everyone starts calming down a little.”

Hinata raises his eyes, his gaze hovering over your left shoulder, “I can come by and let you know when the elevator is fixed if you want.”

“Thanks, Hinata”

He gives you a curt nod and moves to leave, but before he actually walks away he turns on his heel, “before I go. I know -” he huffs and runs a hand through his hair, this only manages to make it messier, “I know it's none of my business, and I don't want you to think I'm patronising you but-”

You cross your arms, “is this about Nagito?”

Hinata sighs, and for one moment let's himself slip. His eyes meet yours and you can feel, concern, protectiveness, and something that only reads as tender. You realise that he is trying to tell you to be careful.

“I understand, Hinata. I um-” you gave him the most confident smile you could manage, “Thank you for looking out for me.”

“Yeah.” He says, eyes back on the floor, “I’ll see you later.”

As Hinata leaves, a familiar feeling of dread drops in the pit of your stomach. Ever since Monokuma made the announcement letting everyone know about the night you spent with Komaeda, everyone has been giving you side eyes. It was to be expected. Souda had all but passed out with how much he was screaming about it, but Hinata…

The fact that he is taking the time to try and warn you, something about that is disconcerting. You aren’t friends with Hinata. There's a small collection of weird bits and bobs that he's given you sitting on a shelf in your cabin, but conversations with Komaeda have made it clear that this is standard Hinata behaviour for some reason. A packet of chips, a bottle of ramune and a used crystal ball do not make a friendship unfortunately and Hinata has never made an effort to get to know you on a deeper level, to find out what makes you tick. (The sort of thing you know just by looking at someone) so this change in behaviour makes you wonder, what is he so worried about?

You huff and try to stop thinking about it. You’re already discombobulated after being in grape tower with everyone when Nidai’s body was discovered. The anger and sadness of four separate people is still swirling around in your stomach, you aren’t in the right headspace to be worrying about Hinata. So you step over towards your standard room, letting a small smile slip onto your face at the nameplate Sonia arranged for you. Then you open the door to your room, and freeze.

“How did you get here?” You mutter, mouth suddenly dry and hands suddenly shaking.

Komaeda is sitting on your bed, by all rights it shouldn't be possible for him to be in your room. He shouldn't even be on this side of the funhouse. He is giving you a soft smile, but when you meet his eyes, you feel like throwing up, “Maybe...I teleported.”

“Nagito…” you whisper, hands shaking at your sides, “what happened?”

He pushes himself up, and starts walking toward you, never breaking eye contact, “I played the game. In the final dead room.”

As he comes closer and closer, you find yourself backing up. Sure, Komaeda could be unhinged at times but you have never felt unsafe in a room with him. At least until now. His eyes are screaming with malice and fury and betrayal, but his calm smile stays affixed. Anyone else might not have even noticed, but you did. He knows it, he wont stop staring at you, like he wants you to feel his anger. Your breath is like glass in your throat.

“You learned something…” he has you almost up against the wall now, you have to crane your head to look up at him, “you can tell me. Please tell me.”

He laughs, dark and cruel, sticking to the back of his throat like bile, “you’re lucky you don’t remember. All this time I thought I was a stepping stone for hope, but there is no hope here.” He reaches a hand out and grabs your face, forcing you to meet his eyes, “no hope on this island, no hope in this funhouse, no hope in this room.”

BETRAYAL BETRAYAL BETRAYAL

It's the only thing you can feel. It drowns out even your own terror with its intensity. Your knees are shaking, your nails are digging into the drywall behind you. Komaeda’s fingers dig into your cheek, forcing you to look up into his eyes, to feel how much he hates you. Your eyes flit around desperately, trying to look anywhere but him, trying to feel anything but him.

Then...he releases you, but before you can even breathe a sigh of relief.

His hands wrap around your neck. You choke. Of course you do. Your hands scramble to pry his fingers away from you, nails digging into his pale skin as the blood rushes up into your head. He’s so tall, he’s lifting you up and you’re barely managing to balance on your toes. He’s still staring at you, he wont stop staring at you. His hatred swirls in the pit of your stomach, drool leaks out of the side of your mouth as you try your best to suck in air.

“Wh-What did i…” you heave in a useless half breath, it isn't enough.

“Nothing that concerns you anymore.” He whispers, his voice eerily calm even as his fingers tighten around your windpipe, “You can feel it though cant you?”

“Ack!”

He tilts his head to the side, “You can feel what you have done to me?”

While you can feel his anger, there is no way for you to know what you could have possibly done. You saw him only the day before, just a few hours before the two groups separated to their respective sides of the funhouse. You should have asked him to stay with you, the only reason you didn't was because you were worried about making Hinata and the other girls uncomfortable. Maybe you could have stopped this.

His eyes are boring into yours and you can feel everything he can feel. All the anger, all the hatred, but as his thumb presses down into the hollow of your throat, you realise. There’s something else in there too. Arousal. The feeling twists and tangles in the pit of your stomach until suddenly the hands around your throat feel good.

You’re going to pass out. Your vision is swirling, all you can see is a fuzzy splatter of white on green. The world looks how a Monet painting does when you get too close. The panic starts setting in, you’ve tried pushing him away and it hasn’t worked. It won’t work. So instead, you work an arm in between the two of you, grab the front on his coat, and tug him in closer.His mouth misses yours at first, and you find yourself frantically kissing his chin, but he quickly re-aligns and shoves his tongue past your lips. You gasp in shock, but it morphs into a guttural moan. One of his hands leaves your throat to grip your waist, the lightheadedness stays, but you don't feel like you're going to lose consciousness anymore.

Teeth sink into your lower lip, you feel a warm trickle of blood crawling down your chin. It hurts, and it is only with a modicum of horror that you realise you like it. Now that the hand around your throat isn't so tight that you are suffocating, you wonder how much of the arousal you are feeling is just mirrored from Komaeda, and how much of it is your own. Komaeda pulls away from you, his smile splitting his face like an axe splits wood, you can see your blood on his teeth. You moan.

“You...you’re-” He breaks into a frenzied laugher, his whole body shaking with the energy of it, “-you’re getting off on this, aren't you?”

You are.

His head tilts to the side, and his voice is eerily soft when he whispers, “You want me to fuck you, huh?”

You nod. His eyes are still swimming with anger and betrayal, but for now, the looming emotion of arousal has overshadowed them both. You can feel the hardness of his cock pressed up against you.

“Okay.” He says, his voice is like warm honey in your ear as the hand not wrapped around your throat slowly trails up your thigh and under your skirt, “I suppose i can do that for you.” There is no subtlety to the movement of his hand, no tender caresses. His spindly fingers worm their way into the side of your panties, and two of them push inside you. You manage a wheezy breath, knees shaking as you try your best to stay upright. His fingers are so fucking long. He laughs, not his usual dismissive giggle, you can tell that at this moment he is laughing at you, “You’re soaked…” he whispers, his voice making the hairs stand up on the back of your neck, “I was meant to be punishing you for your deception, i didn't expect you to enjoy it.” He is slowly pistoning his fingers in and out, curling them with a practiced technique you didn't even know he had. He hits your g-spot, and like he knows what is about to happen (or maybe he just gets lucky), the hand around your throat comes up to cover your mouth. You howl into the meat of his palm, hips stuttering weakly trying to force him to finger you faster. He just keeps staring at you, emotional intensity boiling beneath the surface of his wild eyes, a mixture of anger and want that ends up reading like lust.

(Something about the frenzy, about the feeling of his fingers inside you. It evokes memories of another place, another time. The cold roof of a sedan, a set of much sharper fingernails)

His fingers slip out of you, and you whine at the sudden emptiness, “Nagito...I…” you breathe behind his hand, your insides are like jelly.

“You...what?” He asked, dragging his hand up from your mouth and into your hair. Pulling your head back tight as laughter rolls out from the depths of him, “Are you begging?”

You can't speak. You only whimper.

“Are you begging for my touch?” He leans in closer to you, his lips brushing against yours when he speaks again, “for my mouth?” you moan again, and he isn't even touching you yet. Then, he leans past you, running his tongue up the shell of your ear and whispering, “or are you begging for my cock?” He grabs your hand from where it is still pressed against the wall behind you and forces you to grip him through his jeans, “Which is it? Tell me.”

Your hand tightens around his hardness, and he stutters a harsh breath in through his teeth, “Does that answer your question?”

“Hmm.” He breathes, licking a stripe up the column of your throat and sucking hard on the soft skin just below your ear. That’s going to leave a mark, and you probably already have bruises from when he was choking you. The thought of that, of people seeing and knowing makes your insides tighten, “I guess that will do.” You hear the sound of his belt jangling, and your hands shoot out to help with his jeans. Any fear that was once lurking within you is gone, now you just want him to fuck you. Laugher boils in his chest, escaping his mouth in a wheezy pant as you tug his jeans and boxers down his thighs. He’s practically vibrating with excitement as he follows suit and tugs down your panties.

“How…” His hands are quaking and another peal of laughter breaks up his sentence, he’s shaking so hard at this point that he’s having trouble even speaking, “how...how high can you get your leg?”

You blink at him, not quite sure what he’s even asking you, “Decently high? I don’t know, I haven't really tried?”

He’s grinning at you and taps his right shoulder, “up here too high?”

“Way too high.” You wince even thinking about it, “You’re really tall, baby.” he makes a choked sound at the pet name, it does not escape you, “Owari could maybe manage it, but i couldn't.”

“Ahh...how disappointing…” his words don't match the grin on his face. Nor do they match the eagerness in his eyes. He leans down slightly and hooks his hand behind your knee, tugging your right leg up until its balancing against his hip bone. His bony fingers are digging into your soft flesh, and you are living for it, “I suppose this will have to do.”

At this angle. The head of his cock is rubbing against your clit, your knees are like jelly, without his tight grip on your leg and the wall at your back you would have toppled over. Komaeda grinds his hips experimentally, choking on a moan at the feeling, “You’re soaked.” his smile is wild, he wraps his hand around the base of his cock and slowly drags it up and down the length of your cunt. Your lips drop open in a moan and his shoulders shake with laughter that sounds more like hyperventilation than anything else, “I should have seen right through you. You...haa...you like being defiled by garbage like me. Don’t you?” He’s drooling now, the line of saliva making its way down his chin. You’re mesmerised by it, “I had my hands wrapped around your throat and you were getting- hng!” You cut him off, dragging your tongue up the string of drool on his chin and over his bottom lip.

He growls. Lines his cock up with your entrance, and thrusts upwards.

The sound that rips from your throat is less of a moan and more of a scream. The leg he has suspended in the air hooks around his hips and your toes curl inside your shoes. Komaeda’s head lolls forward and comes to rest on your left shoulder, he’s panting and moaning as his hips cant up again. There’s no rhythm to it, he’s grinding up into you desperately, like he needs it. You manage to wriggle your hands into the sides of his coat and then up under his shirt, digging your nails into his skin. You can feel the muscles in his back flexing under the pads of your fingers. He uses his grip on your leg to lift you up and slam you back down again in time with his thrusts. It feels good, it feels so good. He’s so deep inside you, it feels like he literally couldn't get any deeper if he tried. He’s so loud. He’s moaning, and pleading and muttering. His needy vocalisations over the sound of slapping flesh is so hot that you swear you could come from that alone.

“I knew...mph...haa-AH...i knew you were too good to be true.” He’s still fucking you, but faster now, angrier you realise when he brings his head up to look at you, “No one would ever be kind enough to waste their love on me.”

“I...what-”

“No.” He hisses through his teeth, fingers digging tighter into the skin behind your knee as the emotion behind his eyes morphs from anger to fury. You suddenly feel unsafe, “Don’t bother lying to me. After all, no one here is that good, no one. No one except for the-”

He freezes inside of you. Eyes wide and breathing slowly. What once had been nothing but hatred is slowly changing, softening around the edges and then eventually stopping on realisation. A smile crosses his face, gentler compared to the manic grin he’d been wearing earlier.

“It’s you.” He breathes, “Isn't it?”

“Nagito, what are you talking-nnGH!” You don't get to finish, his hips pump up into you and cut you off.

Laughter rolls out of him in rivulets, his free hand comes up to cup your cheek and his hips dont stop moving, “Of course it’s you! How could i not have seen it!”

You can’t even ask him what he is babbling about. Your mouth is hanging open and all you can do is whine, your head lolls back and hits the wall behind you. He feels so perfect inside of you, you’re so full and so warm. You can barely even hear him anymore, all you can do is feel.

“Of course you can't admit anything! But don't worry!” He smiles at you, slipping his free hand down to your clit and rubbing in quick circles. That was all you needed. Your orgasm crashes into you, your legs and stomach tensing tightly as something inside you snaps. It all feels so good that you barely even realise the gravity of what he is saying, “It’s okay, my Hope. You can leave everything to me."

#komaeda x reader #nagito x reader #komaeda nagito #nagito komaeda #danganronpa x reader #danganronpa #super danganronpa goodbye despair #sdr2

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adenil-umano · 3 years

Text

12 Days of Spones Day 1: Snow

[Read on AO3]

Poeth Iawn IV was the coolest planet orbiting the trinary star cluster P-I VH10034. Temperatures on the surface averaged 50 degrees celsius at night, and a balmy 63 during the day. It was too hot for a human without about a liter of tri-ox coursing through their veins, and even vulcans declared it “shorts and a t-shirt” weather. The generational ship--sent from Earth in 2112 and arriving just last year--had, of course, not packed any of the tri-ox that would not be invented for another fifty years.

Records of the ship had been lost on Earth, so the Federation didn’t find out about the few hundred human colonists slowly melting on the planet until the distress calls started coming through. The first suggestion was to evacuate. Find a new home for the colonists and declare this planet unfit for human habitation. But humans are stubborn things, and although the colonists had only lived on the lifeless cinder of a planet for a year they had already decided to call it home. They’d scuttled their ship and dug into the ground, where temperatures were a few degrees colder and the air was a few oxygen molecules short of a full breath.

Underground was where Dr. Leonard McCoy found himself shuttling hyposprays back and forth in regular intervals, keeping the scientists and colonists alive as the Enterprise crew installed weather control towers that would hopefully provide a bit of respite.

“Jim, you can’t just wander around shirtless. That’s not a heat reduction plan.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Bones. I’m perfectly cool.”

“Perfectly sweaty is more like. Jim, you’re dripping. It’s disgusting.”

“You wound me.”

“‘Do no harm’ does not apply to your ego.”

“You don’t hear me complaining about your pit stains.”

“Don’t make me jab you with this,” McCoy said, brandishing the hypospray threateningly. “I know all the pressure points in the human body.”

Jim pouted and reluctantly tugged his shirt back on, offering up his arm meekly for the hypospray.

“Honestly,” McCoy muttered. “I should just leave you here to fester. You’d be singing a different tune in about three hours when the last of the HeatSync and tri-ox wear off.”

He slapped Jim’s arm and shooed the captain away. He worked quickly through the line of engineers waiting for their shots, and then the dozen grateful colonists. Forty-seven of them had died of heat stroke before the Federation could arrive with aid, and the remainder weren’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Even if said-gift horse did require them to keep their damned shirts on.

When he’d finished he still had one hypospray sitting pretty in his kit. He didn’t have to consult his list to know who had missed their daily regiment. With a sigh, he packed up his things and took out his tricorder. He’d dealt with this problem yesterday, and the day before, and the week before that, so his tricorder was already set to detect Vulcan biosigns.

He followed the signal through the main cave system and past the clusters of engineers drilling support structures into the rocks. Later, the weather towers would have feet that thrust a full kilometer into the ground. They needed to stand firm and tall. Weather control was still an uncertain science, and the surface of the planet would be prone to bouts of extreme storms.

He found Spock hiding in a garden. The colonists had filled the caves with mushrooms and dark-loving plants. It was dim, with only a faint biolumenscent glow from some of the lichen to light the rows and rows of mushroom boxes. Spock stood along the far wall which swooped some three meters up to the curvedceiling. His tricorder beeped steadily as he scanned every inch with delicate precision. Even in the shadows, his body language belied intense concentration.

He thought about clearing his throat and startling Spock, but something held him back. McCoy merely watched him for a moment. Spock’s hair caught the green light from the lichen and his high cheekbones were even sharper than normal in the shadowed light. He finished his examination of the wall and closed his tricorder with a click.

“My apologies, Doctor,” Spock said, turning towards him.

“Lose track of time? Again?” McCoy asked. He tugged on his shirt to get air flowing. It was a few degrees cooler underground but it still wasn’t pleasant, even while standing still.

“No. I was merely...enraptured with a certain problem I believe I am quite close to solving.”

“Does your rapture allow you to get a booster shot? Or will that throw off your flow?”

Spock inclined his gracefully. With a laugh, McCoy moseyed over and pressed the hypospray against Spock’s arm. McCoy brushed his thumb over the injection site. Doctors hadn’t used needles in over two centuries, but he still indulged in a few comforting gestures now and again. He let his hand trail down and interlaced his fingers with Spock’s. A warmth infused him as Spock shared a wave of contentment with him.

“So, what problem are you working on?”

“One that I believe will provide a more lasting solution to the Poeth colonists’ weather problem.”

“Oh? Weather towers aren’t good enough for you?”

“Indeed, they are not. Even on Earth, where the use of weather towers is most mature, the technology has never successfully changed global temperatures by more than four degrees.”

“I thought you said the scientists were hopeful they could build a better system here?”

“Initially, yes, that is what I believed. However, even if projections prove to be accurate the global temperature will be reduced by a mere five degrees.”

“At least it would be livable, if not comfortable.”

“Then there is the issue of tower maintenance. For a new colony that has yet to establish a reliable food source this may prove to overwhelm their capacity.”

McCoy sighed. He leaned in and rested his head against Spock’s shoulder, breathing deeply to steady himself. Spock was the only thing on this whole planet that didn’t smell of sweat. He just smelled a bit warm and a bit earthy, probably from hanging out with mushrooms all day. “Yeah,” McCoy muttered. “I was thinking about that, too. The Federation will have to establish a supply line.”

“Given how close such a line would come to the Romulan neutral zone that is not a guaranteed solution. Ships do not come this far often, and if even one were to go missing it could upset the delicate balance of supplies here.”

“So? What’s your grand, Vulcan plan to solve the problem and save all these people?”

“Simple. I will move the planet.”

“Move the--Spock, I think you’ve been spending too much time communing with the fungus.”

“Although it is no easy task, it is one we have accomplished before, albeit to a lesser degree. When we deflected the course of the asteroid bound for Amerind we utilized similar principles to the ones that may yet save the people of Poeth Iawn.”

“That was just an asteroid. You’re talking about moving an entire planet. And if I recall correctly it nearly blew out every circuit in the ship.”

“As I said, it is no easy task.”

“Mr. Spock you are the master of understatement,” McCoy said dryly. He leaned in to give Spock a peck on the cheek. “Well, can I help at all? What are your calculations looking like?”

“The calculations are complete. I know how to move the planet. I was merely scanning the cave structures to determine the likelihood that the underground system would be destroyed in the process.”

“Will it?”

“With the proper support structures in place I believe upwards of 83.2% of the cave structure will remain intact during the moving process.”

“That’s good. As dingy as this place is, it’s still these people’s home. I suppose I can let you get back to your study.”

“Not necessary, Doctor. I am ready to report my findings to the Captain.” Spock’s eyes flashed brightly in the dim light. “Would you care to indulge in one of your human traditions with me? I believe this calls for a ‘celebratory kiss.’”

McCoy laughed. “Why, Mr. Spock, I would be delighted.” He bounced up on his toes and met Spock in the darkness, sliding together with the ease of long practice, and with the ease of a rather gross amount of sweat. McCoy hummed as he felt Spock’s hot hand settle onto his lower back. They kissed in the sweltering cave among loam and mushrooms, a brief celebration cut short by the itchy heat.

McCoy pulled away and tugged at his shirt again. “Sorry, Spock, but it’s a bit too warm for a true celebration.”

“A pity,” Spock said. He let his hand fall and McCoy sighed in a mixture of disappointment at the loss and relief at the removal of Spock’s overwhelming warmth. “Perhaps later, when it is cooler.”

“You took the words right out of my mouth.”

---

After that came the real work. Spock’s plan wasn’t easy, and it required a complete redirection of energy from everyone working on the planet and on the Enterprise. Not to mention the hours of negotiations with the Captain and the leaders of Poeth Iawn. Surprisingly--or perhaps not--the colonists were eager to try Spock’s plan. It was Jim who required convincing, and after a few late nights poring over Spock’s data he finally agreed to go through with it.

The towers, half-built, were dismantled rapidly and repurposed into support structures for the winding cave systems. Anyone who wasn’t working on supporting the caves prepared for a temporary evacuation. They harvested food, put their experiments in stasis, and said goodbyes to rocks that may be buried under rubble in a few day’s time. Humans were funny like that, McCoy mused as he continued the only job he was good for: administering shots. The colonists had developed connections to the planet, connections that ran deep despite their short time here. They had favorite underground streams and familiar crystal formations. Some loved this passageway or that the way one loves a treasured pet. Spock’s estimate of how much of their home was likely to be destroyed didn’t sit well with them, that much was clear. They wanted to say goodbye while they had the chance.

It took eight days to secure the underground caverns and to transport the colonists to the Enterprise. Quarters would be tight during the moving of the planet, but staying four or five to a room was safer than trying to stay standing on a planet that was about to be rocked. McCoy found himself rooming with Scotty and Sulu, and the three stayed up late toasting to future successes. McCoy awoke with a headache and a bad taste in his mouth, his skin tingling with anticipation for what the day would bring.

The whole ship was overtaken by a hush, despite the overcrowding situation. People passed each other with only a whisper, everyone’s thoughts on what would happen on the planet below.

McCoy found his way to the bridge with a headache hypo he discreetly delivered to a very-thankful Sulu. After that he loitered near Spock’s station, carefully out of the way. He could feel Spock’s nervous energy even without touching him and he radiated back as much calm contentment as he could. Occasionally Spock looked up from his calculations, his mouth pinching in at the sight of McCoy. It could have been called a smile, if McCoy had wanted to insult his partner.

“We are ready to proceed, Captain.”

“Good. Captain to Engineering. Scotty, any final adjustments?”

“Not a one, Captain. We’ve got the hatches battened down firmer than drum.”

“You think the Enterprise will hold?”

“Aye, Captain. You give the order and she’ll hold, even if I do have to nurse her through it.”

Jim nodded, sitting back in his chair. A slight tinge of anxiety rippled through the bridge as everyone poised to act. McCoy wasn’t useful for this part of it, and he hoped to hell he wouldn’t be made useful by anything blowing up.

“Mr. Spock, you may begin.”

Spock’s hands flew over the controls. Sulu and Chekov both moved in unison to bring the Enterprise about. McCoy was certain he imagined the slight shudder as the ship crept into position. Through the viewscreen, the barren landscape of Poeth Iawn IV crept into view. Stark red rock broken only by dry riverbeds and the occasionally wispy cloud peered up like an eye examining the ship.

“Begin tractor beam on my mark,” Spock said. His voice didn’t waver, but something about the way he said it made McCoy reach out one hand and light brush Spock’s wrist bone. “Three, two, one...mark.”

The entire ship really did shudder as the most powerful tractor beam ever conjured shot forward. It was a brilliant gold color, and the vibrations of it set McCoy’s teeth on edge. The beam fired in waves, each driving precisely into various points across the planet’s surface. They concentrated near the equator, tiny spurts of incredible force. The planet appeared to move, but in reality it was the Enterprise skirting around to improve the angel McCoy knew it was a delicate balance between moving the planet and not knocking it completely out of orbit or accidentally stopping its rotation.

Spock’s gaze was fixed on his readings, so McCoy watched the sight of the tractor beam bathing the planet in gold with fixed interest, attempting to commit it to a memory that he could share with Spock later. Spock deserved to see all the fruits of his labor, not just the numbers and calculations.

It took nearly eighty minutes for the dazzling light show to die down. When the last beam fizzled out, everyone on the bridge breathed a sigh of relief. Jim called down to engineering and found out that only a single switch board had blown; the engines were fine.

“We could do it again if you’d like, Captain.”

Jim smiled. “No, Scotty. Once is enough.” He relaxed back into his chair. “Report, Mr. Spock?”

“Planet movement is within margin of error. The spin has been increased by approximately thirteen Earth-minutes, bringing the total length of a Poeth Iawn day to twenty-two hours and forty-nine minutes thirteen seconds. If the planet continues on this course it will move far enough from the planet to equalize to a temperature on par with pre-Industrial Revolution Earth. Most interestingly, we are seeing climate patterns emerge for the first time.”

“Look,” McCoy said. “Is that...snow?”

Even Spock turned to gaze at the screen. The wispy clouds dotting the planet had thickened and coalesced, coming together to form something which, form above, appeared suspiciously similar to a snowstorm. It was difficult to make out from this angle.

“Captain, recommend the deployment of a surface team to measure the effects.”

“Request granted. Assemble the team.”

Spock called for the ship’s climatologist and for two geologists. Of course, McCoy and Jim went as well, if only because they were curious. Based on Spock’s initial measurements everyone wore the winter uniform: gloves, hats, long sleeves, and thermal undershirts. It felt odd to prep for an away team that involved a scarf.

McCoy beamed down to the surface of the planet for the first time. It was quiet, almost eerily so. The stone beneath his feet was rough pumice, and although there was a faint chill in the air there was no snow here yet. He looked up and watched the clouds gather, twisting and turning.

A few feet away Spock was scanning madly. After a moment he clicked shut his tricorder and turned to Jim. “Captain, I can report that the structural damage to the tunnel systems was minimal. We can begin reintegrating the colonists at this location immediately.”

“Shouldn’t we go to their cave system and see it ourselves?”

“We are at the cave system, Captain.” Spock pointed to few disturbed stones nearby. “This is the entrance.”

Jim looked down at the ground, perhaps imagining, as McCoy was, all the miles and miles of tunnels just beneath their feet. After a moment, he nodded. “Very well. Specialist Tian, coordinate with the shuttle bay and transporter room. Let’s get these people home.”

A breeze picked up as everyone scattered to their tasks. McCoy shivered, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. It took only a few minutes for the whine of the transporters to begin. It would be hours before everyone was back on the planet. The initial six that beamed down appeared to be a family: two mothers and their kids, plus an elderly grandfather, all gazed wide-eyed up at the sky.

McCoy looked up, grinning. There was a glint and then--yes, there. A single snowflake twirled through the air down, down towards the red surface. McCoy followed it’s path, entertaining himself with thoughts of snowflakes boldly going where no snow had gone before.

The flake landed in Spock’s perfectly coifed hair and McCoy laughed, ambling over to brush it away. “Mr. Spock, you’ve prevented the first snowflake from landing. That’s mighty cruel of you; after all the hard work it put in to forming itself way up there you didn’t let it reach the ground.”

Spock blinked at him. “I do not believe snowflakes have an opinion about where they land.” As he spoke, more snow dusted his hair and his long eyelashes.

McCoy watched him as he was slowly covered in snow, a grin on his face and warmth in his heart. It was falling faster now, the kind of fast, warm snow that he’d only seen during fall days spent visiting the Midwest. Behind him, the children began to shriek with joy and run screaming around the rocks.

All around them the world was slowly coated in a layer of white. The red vanished piece-by-piece, replaced by a snow so clean that it hurt to look at. McCoy laughed and watched his breath crystalize in the air. He lifted his face towards the sky and threw his arms wide, welcoming the snow and the cold and all that it meant for this planet and its people.

“My god, Spock. Will you look at that?”

“I am looking, Doctor.”

He turned and felt his breath catch as his eyes locked with Spock’s. Spock gazed at him evenly, lovingly, and McCoy shivered even though he no longer felt cold.

Spock slipped closer, reaching out to entangle their fingers and share a bright burst of happiness with McCoy. “Will you indulge me, Leonard?”

“A celebratory kiss?”

“If you would be so kind.”

McCoy laughed, and it was the easiest thing in this world or any other to lean in and press their bodies together. He felt all of Spock--his warmth and solidity, his stoic energy, the smoothness of his lips. McCoy let Spock pull him close into that warm embrace and kissed the dewy snow from his cheeks.

They kissed as the world turned beneath them, altered for the better, and as snow piled up around their feet.

#spones #they kiss in this one #12DaysofSpones

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scribblesofanaricat · 4 years

Text

Crossed Out

(an older version has been posted here before, but I’ve finally gotten round to making a fully edited version with an altered ending (and hopefully a bit more of an explanation), so I hope you guys like)

---------

It’s not a crime to be curious.

That simple fact is what’s led him to end up stuffing his knapsack with an assortment of things that normally have no business being in there. Normally. A scarf that just so happens to be ideal for somebody who’d rather their face went unseen. A chunk of nut and raisin-infused bread snuck- borrowed from the loaf his mam keeps wrapped up in the kitchen (which he can never resist sampling at the best of times). And the battered old woodcutter’s axe he can barely raise any higher than his shoulder - just in case.

That bag’s been packed for days now, wedged out of sight in a corner of his clothes chest. He hasn’t been able to bring himself to do anything more than that. Until now, that is.

His teeth clench at every telltale creak of the floorboards under his bare feet, even though he isn’t really doing anything wrong…yet. He gives them a hard prod with his toes all the same. Traitors.

As he fervently hoped, the front room is clear of any mother-shaped obstacles when he slinks his way downstairs. Just the rough-hewn table and chairs sitting in their usual corner and the mismatched sideboards pushed up against their usual walls, although one of them now has what looks like fresh creamy milk waiting patiently atop it.

Right on cue, a distinctive voice swells from beneath the threadbare carpet.

“Arlo, that milk was just delivered this morning! Don’t you go drinking it straight from the bottle!”

“No, Mam,” he half-mutters, setting down the glass bottle he definitely hasn’t just been raising to his lips.

This is okay. Perfect, really. If she’s down in the cellar, that means she’s probably busy making preserves to sell at the market or something again. By the time she notices he’s neither in the house nor working in the garden, he’ll be well away. And then…then he’ll have some answers, whether she likes it or not. Satisfaction curls in his chest like a languid cat.

Arlo inches out of the door shoulder-first, lifting and lowering the latch as noiselessly as his fingers can manage - the same fingers that nearly drop the scarf twice when he knots the stained grey fabric over the lower half of his face, cursing the pit of his stomach for the uncomfy feeling spreading through it like so much spilled mead. What does he even have to feel guilty about? It’s not a crime.

Enough of that. Enough of it all.

He darts one glance over his shoulder, back at the rusty rooftop and their patch of garden, a weather-beaten face spotted with a mishmash of flowery freckles (except for the bit with his mother’s favourite lilies arranged on it, obviously. Those, she keeps spick and span and never lets him go anywhere near, though he has no idea what she thinks he’ll do to them). Then he starts to run. His legs set about their task in earnest, without taking directions from his mind. He already knows the kinds of places where he can find them…not that it’s any huge secret anyway. Or rather, it’s a secret to everybody; the type little kids hear all about as soon as they can toddle a few steps. Then they get their ears bruised with dire warnings to stay well away from it. Stupid. As if that won’t just put ideas into their tiny heads.

He’s not a kid anyway, Arlo reminds himself, puffing his chest out a little despite how short his bursts of breath are growing. This is no daft childish game. It’s something important. Something that goes hand in hand with the way he’s been jolting awake lately. Gagging around a yell jammed in his throat; a weird sort of dread tying his insides into hard knots. Or opening his eyes to find a stupid wetness spilling down his cheeks…or (he stifles a groan at the memory, heat rushing to his face) soaking his bedsheets.

He doesn’t know if he’s having nightmares...hallucinations, terrors, whatever. How can he? They float away like soap bubbles on washing day every time he tries to latch onto them. But it feels familiar to him, in all the places where it shouldn’t. One morning, he even woke up with the ghost of a name on his tongue and of blood suffocating him with its metallic tang. That’s all they were, though. Ghosts. And they vanished just like that, leaving nothing behind but a dragging weight in his chest.

Arlo just doesn’t know. Yet he’s sure- he’s sure he remembers, no matter how dimly.

To make matters weirder, talking to his mam hasn’t been any use whatsoever. No sooner do the words leave his lips than she butts in to set him some chore or another, or else shifts the topic in a way that curls his hands into fists. The last time Arlo tried to ask her about it, she had her own grilling ready for him – “Who have you been talking to? Who’s put all of this in your head?” – and something in her tone, something strange and strained, made him drop the subject like a hot coal.

He supposes some part of him wanted her to laugh at these dreams that he can’t even remember and at him for ever confusing them with real memories. That’d be better than having this brush-off tossed his way instead. Anything’s better than that.

So this is all her fault, if anything. All she has to do is be straight with him, just like she is with everything else…but no. Instead, he’s been left to flail in the dark. And driven to a straggle of shacks, several miles apart from any other dwelling.

At least, any human dwellings.

Arlo’s foot chooses just the wrong moment to catch on a particularly mean-spirited tussock. He stumbles as gracefully as a sledgehammer in a knife fight, the scrubland sailing up to greet his face. It’s not until after he clambers back up (along with a muttered spate of the words his mam indulges in when she thinks he’s out of earshot) that he gets back to reflecting on the rumours that’ve flown thick for as long as he can remember.

The Hexes. The…things that hushed voices regularly call witches, demigods, monsters, spirits, fae, devils and everything in between. And the only ones in this world who can shed any light on what’s happening to him.

As far as Arlo’s concerned, Hexes are the sort of stuff that everyone acts so certain about, like they know everything that is to know. Yet when they’re asked if they’ve ever even seen one for themselves, their faces flap like fish caught up in a net. And that’s the thing with all these rumours. His mam’s market customers insist they’ve spoken to others who’ve seen Hexes melding with slivers of moonlight and devouring the stars. Somebody has a relative whose neighbour knows someone who swears blind that the lot of them are descended from the legendary Ironflayer clan – that kind of thing.

None of them really know anything.

Before long, Arlo will.

Their shadow’s just slightly out of sync. Maybe it’s the gloom playing tricks, or maybe all those tales have made Arlo ridiculously paranoid. But he could swear that the very silhouette of the Hex is something a little too slow, a little too disjointed. Something that breathes.

Arlo tries to keep his head fearlessly raised, his eyes darting from corner to corner as the Hex breathes life into a candle wick, birthing yet more shadows, and shadows of shadows, from everything it casts its azure-tinged flame upon. The grip on his bag tightens all the same, clenching around the long bump of the axe’s handle.

He can’t make out their face. Not really. Every time he attempts to get a glimpse, it melts away somehow. In the end, he resigns himself to running his fingers in a weird erratic rhythm along the splintery surface of the table, not unlike his mam’s at home. He has to wrench his mind away from the thought of what her face would look like if she knew where he is right now.

Arlo doesn’t see the Hex placing the mixture down in front of him. One moment there’s nothing there but the elaborate symbols (probably occult-y hieroglyphs or something) carved into the tabletop; the next, kaleidoscopic light spills out over its surface from inside a vial. Specks of gold dance in its contents, rising and falling, swallowing the colours and spitting them back out.

His brow furrows, one hand coming up to rake through damp hair.

“You want…me to drink that?” The question rasps in his throat.

The shadow opens its eyes, two acid-green spots burning into Arlo’s face. But the Hex doesn’t so much as turn their head, let alone halt. ‘Not a crime, neophyte, I’m sure?’ they ask at length, words emerging as though they’ve drawn them out from some deep well. They echo off cold damp stone that isn’t there; they drip down his neck like icy, brackish water. ‘And neither are such answers as you seek. Drink.’

Arlo stares at the unknown mixture. Just like the Hex’s shadow, it stares back, pressing spectral hands against its crystal prison. Drink.

He shouldn’t.

He has to. Doesn’t he have every right?

His fingers obviously agree. Despite the stupid tremor running through them, they greedily close around the vial and prise out the cork, letting loose vapours that ghost over his skin.

The brew blazes its way down his throat and sets his stomach alight. Cough after cough rattles deep in his chest. He isn’t sure whether he’s been forced to his knees or not. Those gold spots have returned to swarm his vision, scratching out everything before him.

Arlo’s head rolls from side to side, trying to find where the Hex has disappeared to, trying to get some sign that this is what’s meant to happen. All that comes out is a mangled noise (has his tongue always been this heavy?) before it snakes into his head and swallows him whole. And the floor beneath his feet - or is it the entire world? - caves like a house of cards…

and tips him down, down, down into a slough of phantoms lurking,

living,

breathing,

waiting to snare him in its murky waters. A quicksilver voice sings him to his fall.

‘Memories don’t sleep, neophyte. They only like to pretend that they do.’

Cold. Cold biting at his skin like a million tiny pinpricks. Cold tendrils creeping around his heart, around the very flow of blood through his veins. And the kind of silence that comes when time itself is suspended.

Even so, the masses of limbs and soulless white eyes watch him.

He watches them right back, as empty of fear as they are of flesh and blood. How can they live here? What do they feed on?

Whatever your head offers us, is their answer, as they bare bloodied teeth in a gory grin.

As if in explanation, the golden scratches swimming at the edges of his vision fall away, only to be replaced with a face he feels like he knows. A face that cradles him in its familiarity yet crushes him beneath the expression etched deep in every line of it. He can’t place that expression. But the voice belonging to that face (didn’t that voice once call something to him about a milk bottle, a million years ago?) drips with it.

“What’s going to happen to him?”

Him. Him, him, him.

He stares at the place where that disembodied face hangs long after it’s flaked away like a butterfly drawn on a wall. Is he the reason for that shattered look in her eyes?

That’s when a twisted symphony – blurry and broken but somehow sharp enough to pierce him over and over again – awakens from the depths of some excruciating black hole spreading through his head.

Screams of a name. That name isn’t his own. It’s a name that once slept in a little bed next to his and proudly showed him the worms it had dug up with a stick behind the house. Once. It’s gone now. But also not gone at all.

It’s still there, out in the garden - only this time, it’s below the earth. He never saw that happen. A whisper in his heart knows it did, all the same, and knows exactly where (don’t ever touch the lily patch).

A wasted limb ending in long yellow claws stretching out from underneath his mattress…its grey splinter teeth, the smaller body leaping in front of him and trying to wrestle its grip from his ankle…the blood. So much blood, splattered so far. He remembers wondering how such a small person could hold that much.

He remembers.

And everyone kept it hidden from him, she kept it hidden from him, his mother- no, their mother, theirs-

That clawed arm, those teeth-

It’s coming back.

It’s coming to finish what it couldn’t before.

His cry seems to come from across an ocean. The pain explodes, taking every spectre with it, as his fingernails dig into his scalp like they can tear it away.

Gone is any idea of who he is, where he came from, what he was searching for in the first place. All of it is crossed out, scrubbed from existence, until only a blank wall remains. With one thing painted on it in burning black letters.

It’s coming.

It’s not a crime either, to want to be sure. To have to be sure, to know. The second the rough wooden lid is prised open with numb fingers, something cold and black grips his heart anyway - and he wouldn’t care if it struck him down where he stands.

The lid slips, joining the shovel on the lilies beneath his feet. Its fall could almost be called soft, if that wasn’t so wrong. But how could anything be more wrong than- than this?

He isn’t sure how long his gut chokes him, burning his throat, nostrils, eyes. When they finally give up, he drags a sleeve across his mouth. Huddles in the hole that seems to be opening into a bottomless chasm even as he clenches himself against its side, blurrily aware of the damp earth pressing into his forehead. Just like the nothingness seeping through his soul.

Little by little, one arm raises until barely two inches separates it from the arm in the box. One so alive. The other so grey, like the shadow they’ve become to him. And small. And folded with withered flowers over a sunken chest.

The gashes. So many. He wonders if it’ll do the same to him.

(It’s coming.)

Those phantoms laugh. Play in his head.

(It’s coming.)

#my scribbles #mine #fantasy #supernatural elements #monster #tw nightmares #tw blood #tw implied vomit #tw implied corpse #original writing #writeblr

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lovestruckthief · 4 years

Text

Juno

I must have written this almost two years ago, but didn’t have a blog back then. My ramblings about Juno (Astreaus’ and MC’s daughter) because I’ve always been intrigued by her and what it must be like to grow up as a half-titan while the dust from Olympus’ fall is still settling.

Especially when her parents cast such long shadows.

....................................................

It's not easy, being the daughter of two worlds, especially when you don't quite belong to either of them. Some would argue that it's three worlds, but they would do so under their breath and out of her parent’s earshot. As far as her family is concerned, there’s only two that matter.

Earth and Tartarus are in her blood. Olympus shifts and flutters like a fragile mist behind her eyes and somewhere beneath her skin. Her aura is a bright and brilliant magenta but at times she can see that it's flecked with gold. Though nobody else seems to notice that. But for her it's yet another reminder of how she is not fully anything, but simply in between.

She is a child born into a world newly awoken. She hears of how things were before in the stories of her parents and the other Titans. Tartarus was poisoned, frozen, a place holding its breath. Until her father freed her mother and together they freed Tartarus. And finally, finally, the world lived and breathed again.

Alive is the only way she has ever known Tartarus. When she was very young it was like early spring. New shoots sprouted between cracks in rock and flowers bloomed in the unlikeliest of places. And now the nature in Tartarus had come to resemble its inhabitants. Uncontrolled and unrestrained so that the whole world seemed to overflow with life. She knows Tartarus as wild and beautiful and dangerous for those who aren't clever or quick or careful enough. But fortunately she's all three.

Well that's a lie. ‘Careful’ is not a concept she is very familiar with, so she’s really only the first two. But she has those two in spades and that's usually enough. Her parents have taught her the safe routes in Tartarus and the dangers she needs to watch for. Selene has taught her the thrilling shortcuts and scenic routes and Juno likes those the best, because she has to be quicker and cleverer than ever and she doesn't have to give a thought to being careful.

She knows Earth as well, in its vastness and infinite variation. It is her home just as much as Tartarus is and she grows up somewhere in between the two.

When she is little she takes everything all at once, running as soon as she walks and she is quick to try and argue or make a point in meaningless strings of toddler babble mixed in with dashes of English and Greek. She refuses to be carried or even have her hand held and she doesn't hesitate to wriggle out of arms and slip out of hands. Fortunately, her parents seem content enough to watch her run ahead of them. She navigates the beautiful but treacherous pits of Tartarus with the untamed grace of a Titan. She runs and climbs and leaps—and sometimes falls, though her mother and father are always there with a steadying hand when she needs it—and grows up a daughter of two worlds (though some would argue three, but at that age she knows little of Olympus and less of her connection to it). She brims with the reckless, insuppressible courage reserved to the very young and her father laughs and spins her in the air and calls her fearless.

Her best friend is a dark haired boy who is quick to frown but faster to laugh. A dozen glowing water snakes twist around the two of them when they play together. Her other best friend—because she can have more than one is—softer and gentler but still has a quiet kind of steely bravery and their aura is sometimes a lion and sometimes a lioness. When the three of them are young Juno pulls them into every kind of trouble because her friends are too loyal to let her get into it by herself.

She grows, as children do. She begins to notice things she'd never seen before. The way eyes always turn to her parents when they enter a room. Some slide off quickly, nervously. Others stare unabashed, sometimes curious and sometimes guarded. Sometimes the gazes are hard and cold and sometimes they're directed at her. The first time she really notices she is barely five and it is the first time in a while that she's in a room full of monsters and Titans and demigods. The stares make her skin prickle and burn and she is left feeling a sickening mixture of hot and cold. She drifts closer to her father’s side, almost without realising it, and her little fist twists itself into the fabric of his coat.

She is the daughter of legends. She is fearless and fierce but at the end of the day she's also only five. Her eyes drop to the floor and she looks away. Her father looks down at her, first with surprise and then with understanding as he scoops her up. She lets herself be carried, despite her usual stubborn insistence to walk on her own two feet and she buries her face in his chest. Heat flushes her cheeks and she pretends she doesn't feel the stares still directed at her back.

But she isn't one to be restrained for long and she had soon perfected the long, steady look that ensures that they are the first ones to look away.

She hears things too. Things that are said when her parents aren't around and people think that she isn't listening. Some people are reverent, some are wary, some are fearful. Some are… worse things. And she comes to the realisation that the people she knows as her parents are actually a great deal of different things to a great deal of different people.

Heroes. Traitors. Revolutionaries. Criminals. Legends.

It's difficult for her to reconcile the images of her parents with the stories that are told about them. It's hard to believe that the man who sings her soft lullabies and the woman who bakes cupcakes and dabs her nose with frosting were also responsible for tearing down Olympus.

The stories she hears are different every time. Told by dozens of people in hundreds of different ways. The details shift and change and the truth is harder to pin down than mist. She hears the stories where her parents are heroes, where they’re monsters, where they’re victims. As a child she only ever believed the stories where her parents were good. But she grows, as children do, and knows that the truth, much like her, is probably somewhere in between.

As a young woman she is wild and bright and fiercely independent. She is never short of things to say with a retort always waiting on her lips. She doesn't do speechless. Except maybe once, when she was kissed by a pretty girl whose eyes can turn people to stone but who only ever looks at Juno with light and laughter and something both soft and strong which neither she nor Juno quite have a word for yet.

She is growing up, as children always will. The pull of Olympus is stronger now, far more than it ever was when she was little. It echoes behind every heartbeat and burns under her skin. It leads her with an insistent tug, back to the broken, empty ruins of Olympus. She feels like a ghost as she drifts silently through its shattered halls. Aimless and directionless but somehow always finding her way back to the circle of broken thrones.

She wonders what it means to carry the seeds of Hera’s power. What it is that she feels stirring beneath her skin. Some people, she knows, see her as a last fragment of the Gods, the only hope of their return. Others see her as the main force preventing it.

She hopes, secretly, that some people can just see her as Juno.

She loathes the idea of fate and destiny, of a predetermined path. The thought that her choices mean nothing because everything was decided before her birth makes her skin prickle and her stomach churn. She hates to admit, but she doesn’t feel very fearless. She mostly feels young and uncertain and like she’s being backed into a cage that everyone can see but her.

She keeps those feelings deep within her and tries her best to not let them show on the surface. It doesn’t always work though and her friends exchange worried glances and the pretty girl with the pretty eyes holds her hand and promises that she will listen when Juno is ready.

It comes out eventually of course. To her mother first, and after that it becomes a bit easier to talk about. She is the daughter of legends. She is fierce and bright but at the end of the day she’s only sixteen and sometimes she just really needs her mom. It’s a relief when it all pours out, in a flood of agitated pacing and frustrated tears. Her mother lets her talk and rant and cry. And at the end of it she holds her daughter and calls her brave. Destiny can get bent. The only person who is going to decide Juno’s future is Juno. Hearing it is almost enough to set off Juno crying again. She hadn’t realised how much she needed to hear that.

She asks her mother what she thinks of the belief some people hold, that she is going to return the Gods to power and her mother just shrugs. “Maybe you will” she says “and maybe you won’t. Either way, it won’t be because of destiny. It will be because you made a decision and acted on it. Don’t be afraid of making choices.” Juno notices, but doesn’t comment on how her mother has dodged answering what she would think if Juno actually did make that choice.

She grows up with different worlds twisting through her veins and singing beneath her skin. In time, she feels less in between and more like she simply carries parts of those worlds within her, without slipping through the gaps.

There is rebellion in her blood. There is selfishness and sacrifice. But there is also hope and love and a spirit which will never bend or break in its quest for what is right. She is so much more than the daughter of legends or a child caught between worlds. She is a thousand different things all at once and she is the only one who gets to decide her future.

#afk #astoria: fate's kiss #Astraeus #lovestruck #this one got longer than i was expecting #i know nobody cares about afk anymore but pls read it guys #My writing #i have so many drafts for fics i will most likely never post but this one was already finished

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lixuagi · 4 years

Text

The Cure for Death - chapter 3

MC makes a fool of herself. Again.

For a few seconds, time seems to have stopped. Nobody knows what to do. -..-Specifically you, 069. Throw the kid in the well. He doesn’t deserve more than the others.- the panic pervades the little boy again and, this time, Julian too. -I can’t do that, sir– -DO IT! Or you’re going to have to sacrifice yourself.- all of this is happening because of me. It’s all my fault. –Come on, No.069. Or maybe you don’t want to change the opinion that the “saviour” of Vesuvia has of you? Don’t think that I didn’t notice your intentions. Romantic instinct manifests itself so quickly in you beasts… it’s repulsive.- Valdemar’s grin is so wide that it almost reaches their cheekbones. -So? Nothing, no reaction? All right. Those who are silent agree, after all. You’re both going to be killed. I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty, as opposed to you cowards.- I’m paralyzed as I watch the Questor grab the little boy by the arm. I thought it was all a farce of theirs. They didn’t look so cruel when they made me wear my uniform. Now I wish I never put it on. My goal is to save people, and not just regarding medical matters. I have to do something. I move towards them before Julian can put his life at even greater risk. -No! Leave the boy alone, please! Let him go back to his family!- I throw myself at their feet, clutching a flap of their coat tightly. -Oh? And why should I do that?- they stop their pace, while the little one kicks and squirms, but this does not seem to loosen their grip at all. –It’s my fault, not theirs! I’m the one who needs to pay. Please.- the last words are a whisper choked with despair. Julian quickly approaches, ready to stop me: -MC, no!– -Wait, 069. She could offer me an interesting exchange.- interrupts the Quaestor. -Go on.- -You can do what you want of me. You can fire me, or… or kill me, if that’s what’s needed to save that child and Julian. Take my life, too. I could never forgive myself for being the cause of the death of an innocent.- not again… -… Very well.- they open their hand, releasing the hostage. What?! No! You are crossing the line!- Julian’s cries are totally ignored. Valdemar’s focus is solely on my person, as they ponder how I should pay. –Everybody, get back to your work. Immediately.- this order, after a few seconds of shock, is executed promptly. –No. 069, bring our dear patient to the exit.- -But what will you do with MC?- -Oh, you’re really interested in her. This interest is going to be the next thing I’m going to destroy if you keep showing it like that. Now go, and don’t irritate me any further.- Julian is tempted to, but eventually he obeys, coming to the conclusion that it is better for everyone’s safety. I remain on my knees, covered by the long shadow of my superior. After a few seconds in which they relish my total resignation, they decide that they’re is full of it. -Get up. I’m not going to hurt you. I need you whole and alive.- I put my hands on the ground, giving me a weak push to get back on my feet. –What are you going to do to me?- -On your rest hours you will allow me to study you.- it seems a fairly innocuous request compared to their previous threats. I nod, without even trying to explain to them that magic is a phenomenon that cannot be studied scientifically. Depriving them of this option could lead to more stringent measures. –Now go to your office. Judging by the state you were in after treating another infected patient, you should be close to fainting by now. And that’s not convenient.- they stretch a hand towards me and I instinctively back off. They look at me like I’ve done something incomprehensible and they let a key dangle from their fingers. I relax my shoulders and take it, being careful to avoid any other contact. We both have gloves, but they don’t help me feel safer from them. I quickly walk through the clinic, and slip into the room marked with my number, under dozens of astonished glances that I have carefully avoided. I close the door behind me and slump onto it, finally letting free the tears I held before. With one hand I rummage in my bag until I come into contact with the smooth surface of the amulet, which I promptly clench to my chest. I almost feel like I’m hearing Asra’s voice. “MC, inhale and exhale. Inhaaale. And exhale. That’s it, just like that.” But when I look around, there’s no one there. It’s just memories. Instead of my best friend, there’s a bare cot. I’m struggling, overwhelmed by exhaustion. The absence of windows makes me lose the perception of time, and soon my vision darkens completely as I sink into sleep.

My dreams are confused, a mixture of blurred images and mingled voices. Slowly, I focus. I’m at an elegant dance, in a salon lit by crystal chandeliers and decorated with golden festoons. The music is distorted, slowed down, but around me the participants in their glitzy outfits don’t seem to notice. I, too, dance with them, dragged by an invisible force. Suddenly everything stops. The flames of the candles perish, and only the costumes and masks remain, slumped to the ground. The cold penetrates my bones. Something else pushes me. My eyes meet the empty ones of an animal skull, partly covered by a funeral ashy veil. The figure terrifies me more than it should as I start to shout, but from my lips no sound comes out. I can’t control my body or my will, as the gloomy mask gets smaller and smaller. It’s not it who’s walking away, it’s me, I notice as my back slams into a marble pillar. I can’t get away from it, I’m forced to stick to it, held still by invisible arms. I was sure that I was wearing a dress, but I feel a tickle on the nude of my ankles. Forcing me to lower my head is almost impossible, but I manage to succeed. A beetle is climbing my calf. It’s ruby-colored, it shines with it, as if it were filled with blood. It stops its march on my thigh, then sinks its little tusks in it. I let out a cry of pain, it hurts much more than I expected, the bite burns a lot and I feel the poison that the creature injected me propagate all over my leg. There comes another sting, this time on my hand. The exoskeletons that climb on my skin instantly become a myriad, and each of them wants its portion. A particularly painful wound tarnishes my view of vermillion.

I wake up and immediately snap to my seat, sweating and panting. I put my hands all over my body in search of any insect, the nightmare seemed so real that I could swear it really was. Fortunately, there is no trace of the creatures. I look for a clock, I could have either slept ten minutes or ten hours, but as I peer every corner of my dark room I notice a figure sitting at the foot of my bed. -Ah!- I jolt backwards, slamming my back against the wall. -Don’t worry No. 100, it’s me.- the more I blink, the more I focus on the Quaestor. Even if I was blind, the slightly hoarse and gloomy voice is impossible not to recognize. -For all the Arcana, Valdemar!- I hug my knees to my chest, like I was trying to cover myself. Then I remember I never undressed and I try to assume a vaguely relaxed pose. -Why, yes, it’s me. I heard a noise from your room and suspecting that you and No. 069 had decided to secretly meet, I decided to come in.- I blush. Then why are they sitting on my bed? -Then I felt something was disturbing your sleep and I decided to try and watch you. It might be a feature that peoplewith your power share.- I’m shocked, I hope that they didn’t really read my mind to answer me. In doubt, I shout “I find you very sexy, Quaestor!” in my head, in an attempt to cause some kind of reaction. But that doesn’t happen and I feel incredibly stupid. I notice that they have a notebook in their hands where they have already taken, like any good doctor, unreadable notes. -Speaking of Julian, I mean… 069. It’s not what you think…- I mumble, while my cheeks are already starting to redden. Valdemar tilts their head in their strange mechanical manner, puzzled. Hmm? Could you explain yourself better, young nurse?- -I mean…- I keep my eyes down, torturing my fingers. I don’t care about him that way. We just met. I just liked talking to someone. I find it… reassuring.- Maybe opening me up a little bit more might soften them. And most of all, I don’t want Julian to be penalized because of me again. -Oh, you young people and your strange rituals. If that’s the case, are you implying that you don’t find me reassuring?- their thin lips stretch into a smile that’s not friendly at all. I know the game they’re playing. Come on, MC, try to find something… nice in them. I scrutinize them carefully, unconsciously approaching my face to theirs, an action to which they do not react. As green as they are, they have a smooth skin. And their face is perfectly symmetrical. No, no. That’s not reassuring. Red irises, sharp teeth. Damn, everything about them screams “danger”! However, their face is so different from the norm that it is harmonious. If I were a demon, and I had a specific standard of beauty, I think the Quaestor would reflect it. -So?- they insist, by now my answer is making too much of a wait. Quick, say something that might be a good enough answer! I think my brain short-circuited, because the first thing I spit is, -It’s not like that, you’re very pretty.- and with that, I dug my own pit. As soon as I realize what I said, I cover my face with my hands, stammering apologies to profusion: -Sorry, I did not mean to…! I mean… I… ah! – they grab my wrists, carrying my arms on my lap. -This reaction is nothing short of interesting, let me observe it.- and this said, they proceed to embarrass me even more by approaching dangerously. The bastard is perfectly aware of their actions. -I’ve seen a lot of people in my life. Yet… farce or not, you retain a strange purity. Like a body immersed in formaldehyde, the years pass but…- they squint, occasionally batting the long eyelashes. -I have to admit, it’s a strange compliment…- I mutter turning my face, unable to sustain that penetrating gaze. When they decide they have put me in awe enough, they reassemble themselves, straightening their back and carrying their hands behind them. -Do you often speak in your sleep?- they ask, their head perpetually tilted. -No, as far as I know.- even if morally the Quaestor and I are polarly opposed, I trust their medical knowledge. Maybe one day they could, with some strange serum, make my energy infinite or share my power with others. It wouldn’t hurt to have someone with my same abilities next to me. Thinking about it, that question evokes something, it is undoubtedly a déjà-vu. Yes, I remember now. Shortly after the “accident” nightmares tormented me incessantly, sometimes even as a wake-up call. I was screaming in the middle of the night. I was repeating “sorry, I’m sorry” looped. Asra was always very scared and worried too much. I rub my forearm, I don’t have anyone here to take such care of me. Not that I need it, but I find certain attentions essential. A human cannot live without love. Maybe Valdemar isn’t human, that would explain their bizarre appearance and macabre behavior. -Now that I think about it, it happens to me in times of great stress.- -I wouldn’t have done that,- the doctor tells me, voice as flat as a summer lake. -What?- -I would never have been so reckless as to kill a healthy person and an employee of mine who is just as much healthy. That would have been just another futile and instinctive action.- astonished, I elaborate their words. That’s a nice reassurance. They may be sadistic, but they certainly wouldn’t do something counterproductive. -At most I would have dissected the child later to see what mutations your magic had caused to his organs.- I burst into laughter, taking it as a joke. -What’s wrong with you?- oh yes, stress is making me laugh more than I should. When I can calm down, my eyes are shiny. -You know, you have a special sense of humor, but I think the more I’m going to stay here, the more I’m going to understand it!- I smile, relieved. They would like to tell me that they were not joking at all, but for some reason, maybe even unknown to them, they do not. -Your emotions vary very quickly.- and with this they pin something on the notebook. I let the smile hover over my lips for a while longer. –No.100, I’d like you to answer a few questions now.- I barely stiffen up, immediately going back to feeling only a figure in a sea of death. An experiment, a freak show. I can’t ask them to call me by name, how could I phrase that? It wouldn’t be professional. -I noticed that your stress level increases very easily. It’s no good. For accurate answers we will simulate a relaxing situation. For example, I’ll call you by name.- what? No, that’s not possible. “Doctor, I find you very, very sexy, please examine me from head to toe.” No reaction. Either we’re extremely in tune and I’m not realizing it, or they’re very good at hiding the fact that they are a mind-reader. Yet my attempts to frame them have no effect! Let’s try something else… “Say that I can stop calling you Quaestor and that… I can call you Val.” The doctor’s face rises from the notebook to address me directly. -It should be optimal, like this. Maybe omit formal terms like “Quaestor”, but never do that in a work environment. Only during the study.- they didn’t say anything like, “Oh, call me Val,” though, so I’m probably making it up, I have to be. -All right, doctor.- -Hm… still too rigid. Just Valdemar. I repeat, it’s just a simulation—and with that I’m standing up. I’ve had enough, this is the ultimate proof! -Oh, my God! You, I mean, you’ve heard everything!- -Are you delirious, MC?- -You heard that I think you’re… – I shut up, the confusion on the doctor’s face would be hilarious in another context. -I don’t understand.- -Stop pretending, damn it! I’ve been thinking about things and you’ve said them out loud!- -I call those coincidences.- they scrutinize me like I’m a psychopath. -It’s happened too many times for them to be coincidences!- -Either you’re predictable or maybe, and it’s just a theory, I’ve spent so much time studying behavior that even the desires and thoughts of others are not a mystery to me?- -… oh.- I slowly sit down. I still can’t believe it. I managed to make a fool of myself again. Who knows what opinion they have of me, after all my anomalous attitudes today. -Pure curiosity, what have you thought of me before, MC?- I do not know if it makes me blush more the question itself or hear my name uttered so melodically by such a contradictory and authoritarian figure. -Oh, I. Nothing… I really like your headgear.- -Excessive compliments are indicative of lying, and you’re a bad liar.- they aren’t wrong. I hope they don’t press more on the subject. -… going forward with the analysis. Have you ever suffered from particular pathologies…- I squint, focusing on him. I only have to try one last time. Think of something that would upset anyone, that would generate an emotion in any mind-reader, think, think…

“BOO!” … no reaction. On one hand I am relieved, on the other I am now sure that I’m a very stupid person.

#quaestor valdemar #valdemar #the arcana #the arcana valdemar #the arcana mc #valdemar x mc #valdemar x reader #valdemar x apprentice #the arcana fanfic #The Cure for Death

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wldthoughtz · 5 years

Text

Ours.

Finn Balor (Demon)

**Warning this is extremely intense! Please read at your own risk! (Smut/Violence/Blood/Dark)**

Requested by:Anonymous

Demon Balor hurts reader(Smut) and Finn is devastated.

I'd only just stepped into my locker room when I immediately noticed the cold air circling the room along the flickering lights of the vanity table and overhead light. Shivering I wrapped my arms around my almost bare body as I made my way over to the vanity to get my throw blanket. I almost jumped out of my skin when I heard the door slam shut behind me.

Glancing into the mirror, I almost screamed when I saw Finn standing in front of the door with a possessed look on his face. “Fi-Finn?” I breathed out hopefully, but my body went cold and stood paralyzed when I saw him shake his head ‘no’. I took in a deep gulp of air as I watched his eyes pierce into my soul.

He reached back and locked the door, still gazing at me with dark black eyes. “He touched you…” He snarled out softly in an all too familiar dangerously low voice, that almost made my legs give out.

A look of horror crossed my face as I realized why he was here. During my mixed tag team match just moments ago, Dolph had gotten too handsy with me. And while it was something that he did often that I couldn’t stand, I prayed that Finn wouldn’t see it, because I was terrified of what he would do to him. Well…not Finn but…

I gasped in panic as I finally noticed the splotches of blood scattered across his chest. And I knew that the blood didn’t belong to him… “W-Wh-What happ-ened?” I stuttered softly as I turned to finally face him.

A loud gasp left my lips when in the blink of an eye he was right behind me, he grabbed me suddenly, turning me around causing a startled shriek to leave my lips. His clawed hands wrapped around the front of my ring top before he tore it completely off my body, freeing my breasts. He squeezed them roughly causing me to wince and the feeling of his sharp nails dinning into my soft skin.

With a deep growl he forced me over to the vanity table, pressing his body up close to mine to where I could feel his prominent bulge, and wrapping his left hand around my throat, making me whimper in response. I could see him behind me in the large mirror lust and hunger burning in his unusually dark eyes. “No one touches what is mine… So, I made him pay,” He breathed into my ear. "You belong to me…and only me… Don't you, princess?"

He squeezed my throat causing me to choke and I just nodded before letting out a soft moan. “Yes,” I wheezed out softly, feeling the heat grow from between my thighs.

"Good girl," He growled against my ear.

He used his right hand to rip down my ring shorts with force, while his left stayed firmly around my throat, just tight enough to make breathing difficult but not cutting it off completely. A shudder racked through my body when his hand slid into my lace panties and he quickly found my clit. His fingers worked it harshly back and forth, slowly at first and then with more urgency, that had me gasping for air.

My body began to respond almost immediately to him…just like it always did. I let out a soft moan and I felt him begin to grind his hard cock against my ass. He slid his hand lower unto my panties and slid two fingers into me roughly causing me to wince.

“Such a good girl," He growled pumping his fingers hard into me. “No wonder Finn tries to keep you all to himself,” He snarls pulling me up by my neck no my back was flush against his chest.

“Please!” I gasped desperately, clenching my eyes as my hips were moving back and forth in time with his fingers.

He let out a deep growled as he worked his fingers harder into me and I could hear how wet I was for him. He used his thumb against my clit, causing me to shudder and my knees to buckle a bit. I bit my lip to stifle a moan. He suddenly pulled his hand away from my dripping sex, and I felt him reach between our bodies and wrap his hand around the crotch of my panties before snapping them completely off my body. The stinging he left behind made me moan softly and felt him remove his ring gear. He pulled me tight to his body again and I felt his bare cock hard and hot between my ass. He returned his hand between my thighs and resumed fingering me mercilessly while he slid his hard on between my dripping slit. I hated the effect that he had on my body and I hated myself for always accepting of him, even after all of the times Finn begged me to stay away.

"Mmmm, fuck, I’ve missed your tight pussy." He moaned as his fingers continued their work against my clit. The pleasure was too much, I could feel an orgasm building. He was pumping his cock against my soaking slit harshly as his fingers flew across my clit. I looked up at the mirror and saw him looking directly at me with a mixture of hunger and lust. He owned me in ways that Finn didn’t and part of me loved it.

"Ooooh fuck, ahhh fuck," I moaned through gritted teeth as the orgasm hit me hard with the force of a tsunami.

My body shuddered and tightened as the waves of pleasure continued to wash over me. In the mirror I saw the lust and pleasure in his dark eyes as he watched me come undone. Suddenly he forced me to bend forward and I felt the head of his hard cock at the entrance to my still sensitive sex.

I let out in a long moan and instinctively started to push back, feeling him stretch me almost painfully.

The head of his cock slipped past my lips, "All mine,” He groaned deeply as he forced his cock deeper into me causing me to hiss, "So fucking tight, just made for me." He snarled as he began pumping back and forth forcing more of his cock into me until he was fully deep in my cunt giving me no time to adjust. I had my head down grunting and moaning as he filled me with his cock. He reached down and grabbed my hair forcing me to look up at him through the mirror as his other hand circled my stomach.

"I own you," He grunted, digging his sharp nails into waist, “Finn could never handle you like I can!" He snarled, moving his hips fucking me in and out with his big cock causing me to whimper out in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

“Finn!” I cried out when his sharp nails pierced the skin of my waist, drawing blood. Fear evident in my scream when he bit into my neck harshly, and immediately I felt the trickling of blood glide down my neck before he licked some of it up with his long tongue.

"Did you think he'd come out and save you from me?" he asked humorously, digging his fingers deeper into my skin as he pounded into me feverishly. "He’s always so worried about me hurting you…little does he know that you want me… even more than you want him." He stated, keeping his eyes locked on mine as he lapped at the oozing blood.

“No,” I grunt out and feel him still his trusts as he pulled almost all the way out of me.

"What was that?" He asked in his eerily calm voice.

“I love Finn!” I heaved out trying to catch my breath as I gazed into his fiery eyes in the mirror. “I’ll always want Finn!” I breathed out, fear growing in the pit of my stomach as I watched his eyes go murderous.

The room was completely silent before I let out a loud scream when he trusted hard into me with a powerful stroke that knocked the breath out of my lungs.

"Ahh," I grunted as He pounded my cunt at an unforgiving pace.

I moaned at the feeling of his big thick cock hitting just the right places. I knew I couldn't hold back any more. I dropped my head to the desk, but He grabbed my hair again pulling my head back up. I grunted softly as my pussy clamped around his cock.

He kept pumping into me deep and hard, pulling my hair forcing me to watch us in the mirror as I came screaming out.

“Mine!” He growled loudly as he pumped his cum deep into me. The flickering lights of the vanity suddenly exploded, sending shards of glass flying everywhere, some even piercing my skin making me yelp out in pain.

I collapsed onto the vanity below me panting heavily as I winced when I rested my cheek on cool, glass covered surface. I stayed there too tired to move, still recovering from my orgasm and slightly wincing from the pain that radiated off of different parts of my body. The room grew quiet, the only sound audible was the heavy breathing from me and the faint sound of cheering fans out in the arena.

Suddenly a searing pain came from my back, making me cry out, tears welled in my eyes as I felt the excruciating pain of his sharp claws digging into the skin. “Stop!” I sobbed pleading as I felt him glide his talons in different directions on my back.

His only response was a dark chuckle as the pain in my back moved from side to side as I felt warm liquid running down my back. I was crying and wailing at the feeling of his knife-like nails slicing through my flesh. They pain became too much and my body numbed as soft sobs left my lips. He had never hurt me like this, he was always rough with me but never like this. “All done,” he hummed. “You were such a good girl for me,” he stated approvingly as his nails finally left my back. “Now everyone... including Finn, will know who you belong to.” His stated proudly as his loud demonic laugh filled the room before the lights above stopped flickering, and the room was no longer cold.

I heard a soft groan from behind me and I immediately tensed. “What the fuck!” I heard Finn gasp. I felt him slide out of me and I immediately winced at the burning pain it felt behind. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! Baby?” automatically I knew it was Finn, “Oh my fucking-Fuck!” I heard the concern and panic dripping from his voice as he pulled me into his arms, my eyes were blurry from the tears, but I could see the worry in his eyes as he sat me down on the couch before wrapping me in my throw blanket. Through my sobs heard him talking into a phone about an emergency.

“Finn,” I managed to breath out softly, “It hurts.” I sobbed silently as I watched him rush over to me after he slid on his ring shorts.

“Fuck baby! I’m so sorry! Fuck!” He mumbled out quickly as his eyes welled with tears.

“He-I fucking hurt you! Fuck!” He cried into my lap as he took my hand. “It’s all my fucking fault!” He yelled out in frustration.

“Baby it’s not yo-” I felt my eyes getting really heavy, I heard Finn’s frantic voice in front of me, but it sounded so far away as the blackness consumed my vision.

______________________________________________

The constant beeping of machines was the first thing that I heard as I began to wake up.

I groaned as I felt the twinge of pain as I tried to move around.

“Easy princess,” I heard the familiar Irish voice whisper.

Fluttering my eyes, they adjusted to the dimly lit hospital room before looking around and landing on Finn who was seated on a chair right next to the bed as he held my hand. “Finn what happened? Where am I?” I asked him still dazed as I looked into his bloodshot eyes.

A frown made its way to his face as he stood up to sit on the edge of the bed closer to me. “I hurt you sweetheart,” He mumbled sadly and immediately the memories came flooding back to me as I glanced down and saw my bandaged chest. “I fucking hurt you,” He stuttered out through clenched teeth as fresh tears streamed down his cheeks.

“Baby... you didn’t hurt me. It wasn’t you. This isn’t your faul-” I whispered out, taking his hand into mine.

“All of this is my fault!” He snarled pulling away from me, “I should’ve stayed away from you that day I first saw you at NXT! I should’ve stayed far away and never let him anywhere near you!!” He growled looking down at the ground angrily. “You’re in here because of me! Because I was so fucking selfish that I put you in danger just to keep you close to me!” He yelled out clutching his hair in anger. “I can’t be with you anymore! I can’t put you through this pain ever again!”

“Finn stop! This is not your fault! I love you and I want to be with you no matter what! This doesn’t change anything! Please.” I cried out, taking his hand in mine. “I chose to be with you! You didn’t make me stay with you! I let him get close to me, even though you told me not to! This is my fault!” I stated in a loud shaky voice. “You’re not leaving me for something that you didn’t even do!” I cried out loudly.

Finn looked at me with tears in his eyes as he ripped out his phone from his pocket before unlocking it and pushing it into my arms.

Glancing at the screen a gasp of horror left my lips as I gazed at the image. It was a gruesome picture of my back and read out the five distinct letters...B.A.L.O.R... He had carved his name into my back deeply knowing that it would scar and be on my skin forever. “Finn...” I whispered softly as I felt my bottom lip begin to wobble.

Finn had a broken look on his face as he pulled me into his arms as soon as I released the first sob. “This is why I can’t be with you sweetheart...” He breathed out softly, “I can see you in pain because of me.” He whispered as a sob left his lips.

The knocking on the door caused him to pull away from me. He gave me a regretful smile as fresh tears streamed down his cheeks, “I’m so fucking sorry baby,” he whispered breathlessly cupping my cheek before he placed a kiss on my lips and pulled away from me making his way over to open the door.

“Finn.” I whispered out causing him to stop in his tracks, still facing the door as he gripped the handle. “You can’t leave me,” I scolded him through my soft sobs, as I painfully moved off of the bed. “If you leave me it’ll kill me... I can’t be without you. I don’t want to be without you!” I cried out walking up behind him.

“Baby,” He breathed out softly turning to face me, “Fuck! Baby you gotta get back in bed!” He scolded me sadly trying to push me backwards. He groaned when I wrapped my arms tightly around him, preventing him from moving. “I fucking hurt you darling...and I can’t do that again...” He sobbed softly into my hair. Wrapping his hands around me I held in a cry of pain as I felt him accidently put pressure on my back.

“If you leave, it’ll hurt me more than the pain I’m feeling now.” I whimpered into his chest feeling his whole-body tense.

“Fuck,” he cried holding me tighter, a surge of pain ran through my body, but I managed to bite onto my lip hard to keep me from screaming. “I can’t fucking leave you baby! I feel like the most fucking selfish person on the planet because I know the danger you run by being with me, but damn it I can’t let you go!” He sobbed into hair causing my heart to lurch.

“Don’t do it for you...do it for me,” I breathed softly into his chest. We stood there for what seemed like forever, just crying into each other’s arms. “Please don’t leave me,” I whisper into his chest, breaking the silence.

“I’m not going anywhere baby...but I promise you on my own life, that he will never hurt you again.” He breathed into my hair. “I love you so damn much,” He whispered placing a kiss on my head.

Just as I opened my mouth there was another knock on the door breaking us apart. Finn pecked my forehead before he helped ease me back into the bed carefully before walking over to open the door.

“Good evening, I knocked earlier but I heard some discussion, so I figured I’d come back,” The doctor smiled softly as she entered the room.

“Sorry about that,” Finn mumbled softly with a small frown on his face as he shut the door before walking over to on the edge of my bed to sit down before taking my hand in his.

She just smiled as she walked over to us, “So we’re still not sure what really happened, your boyfriend kept blaming himself when we asked him but there’s no possible way that could’ve been done by him... Those look almost like bear or tiger claws, which I know is also impossible seeing as it spells out a name.” She told me in a serious tone as she flipped through her clipboard. She glanced at both of us in question but we both sat silent, not knowing what to say. “Well anyways you lost a significant about of blood, but the good thing is that both of you are perfectly ok,” she smiled softly.

Finn looked at her confused, “She’s the one that was hurt…not me.” He muttered out wearily.

She sent him a small smile before shaking her head, “Not you. I’m talking about the baby!” She exclaimed.

I felt my heart falter and my body freeze as the words left her mouth…baby?

“Ba-baby?” Finn stuttered out in confusion.

“Yes, a baby, according to your blood sample you’re about 4 weeks pregnant. How did you not know?” She asked staring at me in disbelief.

“I had a physical 3 days ago, and they told me I was fully cleared,” breathed of softly as my eye’s boar into the ground in worry. “I had a match today,” I whispered barely audible.

“Well the levels of hCG in your blood are high indicating that you are pregnant so I don’t see why the would allow you to do that.” She groaned scribbling down on her notepad.

Suddenly the lights around the room began to flicker and the temperature dropped to where I could see the air from my breaths leaving my mouth. Fear immediately rushed through my veins the nurse looked at me in worry and confusion, then over at Finn and she paled. “Yo-you-r eyes are-e bl-black!” She stuttered out as she began walking backwards towards the door.

Within a flash he was standing in front of her holding her face in his hand, my eyes widened as I saw the color of her eyes change from green to bright red as the fear in her face was replaced with an entranced look. “You will write on your report that her and her boyfriend got carried away during sexual intercourse, and she doesn’t want to file charges,” His deep raspy voice mumbled into her face.

“Balor!” I hissed at him feeling my cheeks grow bright red. He turned and sent me a smirk, before looking back at her.

“You will also state that she is pregnant and will not be able to compete in the ring for 8 months, and you will get everything ready so we can leave within the next hour. Is that clear?” He stated calmly in a dangerous voice. The doctor nodded her head before he stepped away and made his way over to the bed where Finn had been previously. With a snap of his fingers the doctor’s eyes reverted back to green and she looked around the room confused before turning back to us.

“Since you’re doing well, I will write up a report and your discharge papers and bring them over once they’re done. Is there anything else I can do for you?” She asked sweetly.

“No, everything is perfect,” He breathed out send her a dashing smile. She nodded her head before giving us a small wave as she exited the room.

“Get away from me,” I hissed at him as I scooted farther away from him in the bed.

Turning to me he sent me a stern look, “Darling come here.” He breathed out dangerously. I took in a small gulp of air as I saw the dark look on his face before scooting over to him. “Stop,” He breathed out when he saw me wince, his body turned to me and his hand reached for my back. “Relax,” He mumbled as he noticed my body tense at the pain when he placed his palm flat on the engraving. I bit my lip as a warmth spread through my body and the throbbing pain subsided. His hand moved to the side of my neck, that had also been bandaged and placed his hand allowing the warm to spread again eliminating the pain before he moved down to my waist. Miraculously to pain in my body vanished and I was left feeling like I’d just woken up from a 24-hour nap. He pulled away from me and watched me while I probed the areas that were once scorching in pain.

“What did you do?” I asked him breathlessly.

His face was still neutral when he motioned for me to come closer to him. Without a second thought I sat up on my knees and climbed his lap, wrapping my arms around his budging shoulders as I settled onto his thick thighs. “I heeled you,” He stated out flatly. His hands wrapped around my waist, pulling closer into his chest. “I should not have hurt you…I was furious because someone put their hands on you and Finn did nothing. I took it into my own hands, and I made him pay… but I should not have hurt you. Not you princess.” He breathed out strongly, as he rested his forehead on mine. “I never apologize darling, but for you I’d grovel on my knees if you asked that of me,” He breathed out, the faint smell of blood drifted from his lips.

“Balor,” I sighed out softly as I felt the tears well in my eyes. I had never heard him talk to me so sweetly after the many encounters we have had. I could clearly hear the regret and pain in his voice when he spoke to me.

“Will you forgive me my queen?” He whispered softly his pitch-black eyes gazing deeply into mine.

“Yes,” I breathed out softly before connecting my lips with his for the first time. While I had kissed Finn millions of times, I had never kissed Balor…not even when we’d had sex. This feeling was new as a warm fire spread through the inside of my body as our lips moved together in perfect sync. Even though he had hurt me, I couldn’t fight the attraction that I felt towards him. There had been many times where he had protected me and fought for me. He’d also always kept Finn safe which I was extremely grateful for, If Finn and I were to remain together, I would have to accept Balor too.

Breaking away from the kiss, my chest heaved up and down as I panted heavily. His breathing was unfazed, but his face held an emotion that I had never seen on him…love. “You have my word my queen, that I will never put a hand on you again…unless you ask,” He smirked deviously causing me to laugh which made him chuckle.

Our laughing died down, leaving us in a calm silence as his hands pulled me tighter to his chest. My hands trailed up his shoulder and thread into his soft hair, “Balor?” I whispered softly.

“Yes, my queen?” He asked gazing into my eyes.

“The pregnancy…. umm I wasn’t pregnant before tonight...” I whispered softly.

“No, you were not,” He hummed cupping my chin. “But you are pregnant now and from what you may have caught on from the doctor. This pregnancy will be different from normal pregnancies. It will be quicker, but our child will grow at a normal human rate,” He breathed out.

“Our child?” I whispered softly, my mind still racing around the new information.

“Yes, our child. Yours, Mine, and Finns.” He stated, “I know this is a lot for you to take in… but I intend to be with you and keep you safe throughout the whole pregnancy.” He stated firmly.

Everything was so overwhelming to me and I didn’t know what to say as he watched me closely before pressing a soft kiss on my lips. “I love you very much my queen,” He breathed pulling away before his dark eyes reverted to light green.

Finn clenched his eyes tightly before shaking his head, trying to recollect what had happened. “Baby? What did he do?!” He asked me franticly when he noticed me perched on his lap.

“Finn calm down!” I scolded him as his eyes moved rapidly inspecting me for injury. “He healed me,” I breathed out softly as I peeled off the wrap that had been on my neck to reveal the smooth, mark free skin. The look confusion on his face was replaced with worry as I climbed off of his lap, “Wait!” I scolded him when he tried to pull be back to the bed. I stood up and turned so my back was facing him and began unwrapping my chest until the bandage was fully off exposing my unmarked chest.

“What the hell,” He breathed out in disbelief as he traced the skin where the letters had been. “He did this?” He whispered almost inaudibly.

“Yeah,” I whispered softly almost not believing it myself. I wrapped the bandage back over my back so no one would get suspicious before I sat down on the bed next to Finn. “He apologized,” I breathed out.

Finn turned to me with a shocked face, “Holy shit…” He muttered, rubbing a hand down his face. “Did you um, accept it?” He asked warily.

“Yes,” I whispered before climbing into his lab. “I know he meant it… and he promised he’d never hurt me again.” I sighed cupping his cheeks in my hands. “Besides I need to be okay with him, If I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” I smiled softly as I watched a smile spread on his lips. Leaning down I pressed my lips to his, basking in the familiar feeling of his soft lips on mine. “I love you Finn,” I gushed softly as we pulled away. “All of you,” I smiled resting my forehead against his.

“I love you so damn much princess,” He breathed out against my lips, Pulling me tightly against his chest. “What about the pregnancy?” He whispered softly.

“He said its our baby,” I mumbled out, Feeling him tense. “Mine, His, and Yours,” I murmured still trying to wrap my own head around the information.

“Our baby…” He breathed out in disbelief as his body became untensed, I noticed the small smile on his lips. “But how are you a month pre-,“ He was cut off by knocking on the door, that had me scrambling off his lap before climbing back under the sheets.

The doctor walked in with a bright smile, “Alrighty all the paperwork and discharge papers are done we just need a few signatures and your free to go.” She stated cheerfully, a drastic change from how she had walked in earlier, which I was sure Finn noticed. She handed me the clip board and I signed my name about a hundred times before handing it back to her. She called in a young man with a wheelchair, that Finn helped me to climb into to safely, while I still played my injury’s. “Now you’ll just have to schedule a check-up for your baby with an obstetrician of your choice.” She beamed watching me being rolled down the hallway. Finn and I both nodded and thanked her as we waited for the elevator. “Now I know everyone is different on what they do during physical intercourse, but please do it cautiously,” She scolded causing my face to pale as I looked up frantically at Finn.

A look of horror crossed his face as he glanced at me then at the doctor, “Wha-” Before he could finish, I pushed him into the elevator with my foot causing him to stumble in.

“Thank you, Doc, we will.” I rushed out as I felt my cheeks turning beat red as the young man wheeled me into the elevator before it closed. The young man let out an awkward cough as he stood looking down at the ground with pink cheeks. I looked over at Finn who still had a shocked, bright red face as he looked straight ahead to the buttons on the elevator. The whole elevator ride was extremely uncomfortable as we all looked like we’d been paused. Finn let out a breath of air as he exited the elevator and rushed to pull up the car.

Once we made it outside Finn was already by the passenger door holding it wide open for me, I almost chucked at the tint of pink still on his cheeks. He helped me in as I dramatically feigned my injuries. The young man quickly hurried off once I was secured in the car, poor kid.

Finn climbed in and the air around us was extremely uncomfortable, “So she thinks we did that… during sex?” He murmured as he glanced over at me questioningly.

“I can explain…” I smile at him sheepishly.

Raising an eyebrow, he shook his head in disbelief before putting the car in gear, “You bet your sexy ass you’re going to ‘explain’ everything.”

End.

Like this? Check out my other Stories!

Mine: Roman Reigns (Smut)

“I got you baby”: Seth Rollins

Congratulations: Seth Rollins (Smut)

“She’s mine”: Seth Rollins/ Finn Balor

Believe: Finn Balor

Love: AJ Styles

Home: Finn Balor (Smut)

Promise: Seth Rollins

Your Girl: Finn Balor (Smut)

Hurt: Finn Balor

Man: AJ Styles

#Finn balor smut #finn balor imagine #finn balor x reader #wwe smut #wwe imagine

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adrrianraines · 5 years

Text

shackles

genre: romance book: bloodbound pairings: adrian raines x reader insert song inspiration: kings and queens and vagabonds—ellem

disclaimer: my very first fic for the fandom! hella

EXHAUSTION WAS ONE of the strongest emotions you felt as you slumped over the couch inside Adrian’s office. Hell, it might as well be an understatement. It had been a long day—a long week even. When was the last time that you’ve had peace? You barely even remember. You slouched on the couch, hair strands sticking everywhere as you stared at your shaking palms, the rush of adrenaline slowly leaving your body.

You stared at your hands, flashbacks of the events just hours ago invading your mind with arrogance. You shut your eyes tightly, trying to forget the horror of what happened and what you did.

Murderer.

A voice echoed deep within your consciousness.

You’re no different from them.

”Are you alright?” A soft yet stern voice asked as you felt the space beside you sink, jerking you out of an emotional disarray that is currently your thoughts.

You turned towards the owner of the voice, a small and weary smile plastered upon your lips as you whispered her name in acknowledgement. “Kamilah. What’s up?”

”I can sense the dread a feet away.” She bemused, the expression on her face a bit bland. Though you caught on the flash of worry in her eyes.

”You’re one to talk.” You chuckled, though mirth was no where found on your tone. “I’m okay,”

The brunette studied your physiognomy for a few moments, possibly weighing out her options of whether to wait for you to talk or leave you be. It seemed that the latter won because she let out a sigh.

Kamilah was not the one who would push someone to spill their gut—quite figuratively—if one had no desire to open up. She’s not being pushy about it either.

”I’ll leave you be.” The words rolled out of her mouth as quickly as she rose. Her footsteps slowly fading away in the distance, silence now reigning in the area.

The room is quite heavy, per se. Each person inside the room had their spots wherein they were lounging about. You had a talk with Lily a bit earlier before she eagerly got up and looked for something to sooth her thirst.

Oh how you sincerely wished you had her enthusiasm at the moment.

You talked to them — Jax, Kamilah, Lily and then Kamilah again — each and everyone of them except one.

Adrian.

For some reason, guilt crept your system as you swept your gaze around his office. Heck, you couldn’t even lay your eyes on him for more than a few seconds. A morbid voice kept ringing inside your head of accusations you can never deny.

Murderer.

“What the hell...” Clenching your fists, you shut your eyes tightly, trying to forget how her dead body looked like. How you mercilessly pulled the trigger. How the arrow went through her skull. How she fell limply on the muddy terrain, a whole in her head and a look so ghastly it might as well be forever embedded on your brain.

You killed Nicole.

All moral capabilities left your side the instant this thought sank. Your hands were bloodied. You took one life away and now it’s starting to weigh you down. Slowly, painfully until it was sure it will drown you down to the pits of despair.

It was for self-defense! The woman was evil! She was gonna kill me!

Several voices fought inside your head, all unwilling to back down. The clatter in your brain was severely heightened by the emotional guilt and the moral err you have committed.

You clutched your head, in hopes that the voice would shut up. The internal turmoil was making your head hurt so bad you’re feeling a bit light headed. Fatigue was slowly catching up. The ache on your legs was more evident than earlier. But what was running rampant was the voice inside your head.

Was it your conscience? You were human, after all. The woman was awful, yes, but was it really you who had to decide her judgement? Did you have the right to execute?

It was the right thing to do...! For self-defense...!

No matter how many times you tried to make these claims sound morally plausible, it wouldn’t. It shouldn’t have been you. You shouldn’t have stained your hands with her filthy blood...

The decadent room didn’t help your guilt ease a bit. Your mind played images of Nicole, alive, working and minding her own business before you came. How she could have lived her life as she wanted it if you never stepped foot in Raines Corporation. If you remained ignorant of the real world. Of their world. The image of her dead face haunted your mind like a broken record, whispering menacingly, murderer... Murderer... Murderer...

If you hadn’t come back at Raines Corp office that night, then all of this wouldn’t have happened. For sure, that mandrake extract could have waited? Those split second decisions turned everything around, your fate could have turned a different way. No lives would’ve been traded. Lily wouldn’t have been attacked—she could’ve stayed as a human if you hadn’t stuck your nose to where it didn’t belong.

Maybe... Just maybe... the debriefing would’ve been the better choice..?

She was going to kill you — she was out for your blood... It was the right thing to do.

No...

It’s what should be done.

I could’ve talked to her—

There was no other way.

That’s not—

MURDERER.

You gasped for air as if you were drowning, the dilation of your pupils returning back to normal as you readjusted your vision, specks of tiny stars slowly coming in to view.

”Are you alright?” Your head jerked towards the figure kneeling in front of you, granite eyes scrunched with worry. His thick brows were furrowed as he gently caressed your cheeks, wiping a lone tear that rolled down.

”Adrian...?” Your voice croaked, throat dry as you swallowed the lump that was threatening to get out. “I... What...”

“I was so worried...” You felt yourself being enveloped in a tight embrace, the coldness of your flesh being chased away by his warmth.

Kamilah, Lily and Jax were now hunched towards you—Lily sitting at the empty space beside you while rubbing your back—Kamilah looking both curious and worried behind Adrian.

“You alright there?” Jax queried, the look on his face seemingly disturbed and hella bothered by your sudden episode.

”You were groaning in so much pain, clutching your head with your hands...” Adrian breathed, fingertips brushing the side of your face to tuck away a stray hair. He whispered gently, as if he was trying to ease the pain, his voice a soothing lullaby. “Tell me, where else does it hurt? I’ll make it feel better.”

The look on his face was so broken it almost made you choke. Your eyes softened at the man before you, taking in all the cuts in his features that were starting to heal. His suit was a mess, his tie loosened and the several bruises around his neck that were starting to heal brought back the slaughter you witnessed earlier.

But damn it all. Adrian Raines was the perfect mixture of heaven and hell combined. The morality he shows outweighs the complexity of decisions his path has taken him as one of the immortal life forms that ever walked the earth. This complex man lay his emotions bare. He openly showed you a weakness that you can see up close.

And for some reason, you were alarmed by it all.

“Adrian...” You began, barely choking your words out. “I’m sorry... I killed-” You couldn’t even dare to continue the sentence. It was all too much.

He looked confused for a moment before realization hit him like hail. When you stared in his eyes, the room faded in the background, everyone else didn’t matter and now it’s just you and him.

”Don’t be. It was the right thing to... do.” Adrian bit his lower lip at the last word. Even he had a hard time finishing his sentence. Anger flashed by his countenance as he recounted the fight and it disappeared as quickly as it came. “It was bound to happen.”

”No, I didn’t wish for it to happen, I swear—” In a swift motion, you felt him cup your face as he gently brushed his lips over your own. He nipped at your bottom lip as you gasped, granting him access inside your mouth. His tongue swirled inside as you let out a soft moan, fully taking him in. All of him. He had a cut on his lip that was healing, causing you to taste him in your mouth. A mixture of metal and salt danced in your taste buds. His agony and regret washed over you, as you tasted the blood in your mouth.

The two of you broke free when you heard a couple of snickers and one intentional clearing of throat. You felt yourself flush at the thought that you made out with Adrian in front of everyone without reservations. In which, for the record, the two of you have never done before.

”Weeeeeellll... we’ll be around!” Lily snickered suggestively. “Don’t hold back, ‘kay?” The slight teasing on her tone only intensified the shame that you felt for being vulgar with your affections. The deep shade of crimson engulfed your cheeks in flames as your gaze darted from Adrian and then towards your friends, and back at Adrian again. He only managed a small smile as he lightly shook his head in amusement.

”We have to party! I mean, come on, we have a reason to celebrate!” Lily exclaimed excitedly only to earn an exhausted groan from Kamilah. You watched Lily link her arms with her, dragging her away, the older vampire grumbling in her wake as an answer.

”Uh— I’ll be by the, er, bookshelves.” Jax, clearly not having any idea as to why he was still idling around, immediately walked away without even looking back.

“Feeling better?” You can almost hear the smirk in his voice as he moved to sit beside you, arms wrapping around your shoulders. And when you tilted your head to look at him, you saw how he was gazing at you so softly, metallic hues searching your own.

You nodded as you leaned against his solid frame, forcing yourself to drown out the unfamiliar voice inside your head who kept repeating the same words over and over again.

Murderer.

You closed your eyes, trying to resonate with whatever it was that lied beneath the surface. These words kept reverberating in your consciousness, unable to put two and two together. You could almost pinpoint it, the existence was there, but it’s way farther from your grasp. You couldn’t have been more thankful with Adrian who tried to disentangle you from your train of thoughts.

“Now that I have the chance.... I wanted to thank you... for everything that you’ve done. For saving my life and having my back.” A small, warm smile spread evenly on Adrian’s lips as he moved to kiss you once more, a kiss that lingered with a promise. “I owe you. I lost count of how many times however... I promise to always keep you safe from here on. I... care for you.”

Adrian’s words were like a promise. A promise of a better tomorrow. A promise of a peaceful companionship.

Perhaps, even, a promise of something more.

You let yourself be enchanted by his voice, hoping that it can drown away the demons that lurked beneath the shadows. But, at the back of your mind, you knew that everything was far from over. The voice inside your head let out a sinister laugh as it said, slowly but surely, almost a taunting promise, the words,

Humans are indeed fragile little things.

And what scared you the most was how you found yourself agreeing to it.

#playchoices #playchoices fanfiction #adrian raines #adrian x mc #kamilah sayeed #lily spencer #jax matsuo #writings

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possiblypeachy · 5 years

Text

tea & schemes. (10)

―; summary: An unexpected face pops up while Florence and Jacob are out and about; she should really expect these things to happen at this point.

―; pairing: jacob frye x ofc

―; word count: 5k (ooh, she’s a biggun)

―; warnings: light swearing.

―; A/N: okay so maybe this took me like a month to chip through but life gets hectic sometime im--

nevertheless!! i love them!! and this!! i’m finally getting into the writing habit again so hopefully you can expect to see this more regularly?? don’t quote me on that, though /:

please tell me what you think bc i’m in constant need of pointers and reassurance!! plus i love talking about this so :))

―; tags: @vamprose (ily <3) (p.s. do ask if you’d like to be tagged in the future!)

―; part: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

― ❊ ―

Suddenly, it seemed like the pub wasn’t so important anymore and, what with that Benjamin bloke still glaring daggers at the pair of them a few tables from the bar, the couple decided to shimmy their way out of the establishment and wander the streets for a small while. At the horizon, the sun was setting, painting a strip of pinkish-orange across the early evening sky. There was a chill in the air-- a reminder of autumn settling in-- that made Florence tuck her shawl more closely into her shoulders and encouraged Jacob to walk that little bit closer to her. Well, that required very little encouragement, truly.

There was this strange sense of joy lingering between them; it was the happiness borne from a returned confession mixed with the sudden fear that it had perhaps all been a mistake or some kind of terrible joke. However, the way that his thumb brushed over the back of their hands as they zigzagged their way down the backstreets made Florence feel a little better at least. Jacob found enough comfort in the memory of her smile back in the pub; he was almost certain emotion like that couldn’t be faked-- not even by a world-class actor.

“Jacob,” Florence spoke after a brief period of quiet between them. They’d been speaking idly of things, skirting over the surface of the kiss that had happened earlier and overall quite content with that. However, one might call Florence a cat and curiosity had killed her, “when we kissed…”

She paused to ponder her next words for a few moments but, before she could finish her own sentence, Jacob interjected with that cocky little smile of his and a quirk of his brow. “-- it was magical and you’ll often dream of doing it again?” She gave him an exasperated look but grinned regardless. “Well, dear lady,” Jacob bowed almost crookedly, as if to lower his face down to hers while they were walking, “I am always available.”

She hit his arm and scowled but the light in her eyes told of amusement. “You’re terrible; I’m trying to ask you something serious.” His demeanour softened and he dipped his head to the side slightly, as if to say “go ahead”, straightening his posture. Florence gave his arm a small squeeze in an effort to comfort him-- ensuring that she wasn’t actually bothered by his incessant jesting-- and, as her hand lowered again, he caught it in his own. A little curl came to her lips, gaze caught on the sight of their intertwined hands for a few moments; Thomas Langhorne had never made her heart do that.

Eyes, almost golden in the early evening sunlight, dragged up to his face once again. “What are we?” At this, Jacob’s face scrunched with confusion and Florence pursed her lips momentarily before she rephrased: “Are we doing some kind of… courting now?”

Her eyes glazed slightly at that dreaded word— so did Jacob’s. He opened his mouth briefly, only to close it again and hum, pondering. “Well, labels don’t have to be applied, do they?” Florence frowned, to which Jacob’s heart dropped suddenly, worried that he might’ve disappointed her. “Not those fancy labels, anyhow—“

“It’s just that I might worry about—“

“— because I’d definitely get bullied by Evie if I told her—“

“— exclusivity and the idea of sharing you because I think I—“

“— that I was ‘courting a lady’ but I wouldn’t mind it, if you wanted to call it that, since I—“

“— really like you.”

They looked at each other as those same words spilt clumsily from both of their mouths. There was a moment of quiet between them, then Florence made a ridiculous little snorting noise in the back of her throat and they both began to laugh. She admittedly felt like one of those flustered ladies in those hopelessly romantic books she always read but, for the first time in her life, Florence didn’t loathe that thought so much— in fact, it barely bothered her at all. It simply felt… nice to know that Jacob was experiencing the same things. Well, she assumed, anyhow, what with the gentle pinkness to his smiling cheeks.

Their eyes locked for a few moments as their laughter died down, honey melting into hazel, and Florence’s lips caught in a content, little smile— one that made Jacob feel, for a moment, like all was right with the world. Her gaze broke away from his and she shook her head, huffing out something that sounded like a chuckle through her nose. “My brother is going to keel over and die if he finds out.”

“So we won’t tell him.” Jacob replied, a small squeeze coming to Florence’s hand. “Not yet, anyway.” A certain amusement lit up his features, the kind that she’d come to realise always came before one of his remarks. “Besides, I’d only have you to bully if Freddy’s chucked out of the picture.”

“I’m the one who does the bullying here, thank you very much.” Proudness adorned Florence’s face, nose upturned in a way that made Jacob do a strange, back-of-the-throat chortle. “I learnt from the best—”

“-- me--”

“-- my sister, Emily.” Her expression deadpanned beside the tiny quirk to her lips that proclaimed humour. “I will… allow you to be just as proficient at bullying as me.”

“You’ll allow me?” His eyebrows raised in disbelief, open mouth threatening to break into a grin.

She giggled, nodding. “Yes, I’ll allow you--”

“You’ll allow me, eh? Will you?” One of his hands came up to poke at her ribs, breathing out impish laughter at Florence’s sudden squeal. She half-expected to barely feel his prodding fingers through her many layers but the sudden jab to her side was very much there and it definitely made her jolt to one side. Unfortunately for everyone in the immediate vicinity, Florence began that god-awful snorting of hers. Jacob continued with his assault, repeating his words through laughter, until she was wiping tears away from her eyes, cheeks hurting from smiling far too much.

Disaster came when she wiped the cloudiness away from her eyes and her vision met with a familiar crown of golden hair. She spat something that sounded like a horrible mixture of “shit!” and “damn!”, which froze Jacob up as he tried to search for whatever had so suddenly changed Florence’s demeanour. However, she had already decided to relinquish any control he might’ve had on the situation by bundling them both off into a nearby alleyway, the home of a few-- now visibly worried-- urchins.

Jacob’s brows furrowed and his mouth opened, ready to hurriedly ask her what had gotten her in a twist. Florence stopped him before he could speak with a thin finger smushed against his lips. She muttered a “Willard” and, against her front, she felt Jacob tense, though his face showed no real difference.

“Why is that such a problem?” He whispered back, perhaps a little too loudly for Florence’s liking, using his hand to lower her finger from his lips.

A myriad of emotions flickered across her expression-- all of which made Jacob frown-- and, in a moment of catharsis, she sighed. “You know why it’s a problem--”

“If he sees us, so be it. Maybe he’ll finally leave you be.”

“And, what? Proceed to kill my brother?” Florence spoke through gritted teeth, gesturing pointedly back to the street they had just been on-- the street where Willard was. “I’m supposed to be going to that… dinner party to entertain the idea of him and I being a couple; I doubt it’d still be going on if he saw me being friendly with you, Jacob.”

Jacob pinched the bridge of his nose, jaw clenched despite him trying his best not to seem angry with her. “How long will that go on for, hm? Until you’re both married? When will Florence Molyneux-Herbert’s first child be born, I wonder--”

“Don’t be such a prick, Jacob.” There was something in her eyes that screamed a strange sense of annoyance. “I’ll do what I have to; I need to find solid enough evidence of his plots to get him arrested.”

There was a pause in which the pair stared at each other-- a challenge. Then, Jacob sighed and nodded. “Fine.” Florence released a breath she was unaware she’d been holding, placing her hands on her hips and turning herself away from him, as if she was about to peek back into the street. “I’ll come with you to the dinner.”

“What? No, Jacob--”

“Listen to me.” He gave her a look, all too aware of Florence’s tendency to interject when she was particularly… passionate about a subject. She opened her mouth like she was about to disregard him, then her expression softened and she gestured for him to go ahead. “This Willard bloke-- he thinks I work for your family, yes?”

“I assume so.”

Jacob’s little smile counteracted her confused frown. In a way, his mere energy had formed this kind of… conniving, scheming hope in the pit of her stomach. “Exactly. I am Jacob Frye, your butler and bodyguard, rolled into one. I presume it’s cheaper that way.” He shrugged and Florence gave a laugh, stifled by the back of her hand; it was a shame that he couldn’t see her dimple. “I’ll accompany you and Freddy to his estate and, while you look all pretty and have a munch on whatever little entrées he serves you, I’ll have a nosey about his house--”

“He’ll have guards.”

Jacob deadpanned at her, then gestured-- to make a point-- to all the various weapons strewn about his person. With a nod, a hum, and a laugh breathed out through the nose, she conceded. He muttered something like a “thank you” before continuing on with what he would no doubt tout a ‘nefarious plan’. “-- and collect any scraps of ill-intent he might have lying about. Who knows? Perhaps I’ll even stumble across a secret room with drawings of your brother and little knife marks--”

“You really do test me, Jacob Frye.”

He let out a gleeful little laugh, loud enough for Florence to poke him in the ribs-- or was she serving comeuppance for his incessant jesting? Only God would know, one supposed.

With a small peek around the corner, Florence grimaced when she saw that Willard was still window-browsing at that poncey jewellery shop, rubbing his chin in a way reminiscent of some kind of statue of Adonis. God, why was he so pretty? Her eyes raked up and down the bluish ensemble he was wearing today and--

Jacob pushed her slightly, straight out into the open street and Willard’s attention. The blond turned, intrigued by the little ‘woop!’ and scuffle of shoes, and his expression shifted to one of surprised delight. “Darling Florence! What a gift God has given me for such a beauty to stumble back into my day.”

She stopped herself from frowning at this and wanted more than anything to throw a look over her shoulder towards Jacob; it would’ve either been a plea for help or a reassurance that she did, in fact, dislike being complimented like this. Well, complimented like this by him.

He all but swept over to her, the little cane at his side no doubt merely decorative-- a show of absurd wealth and status that made Florence feel inferior. As always. “What brings you here? Doing a bit of light shopping, are we? If you’d like, we could--”

“Ah, Miss Abberline, there you are! These backstreets are just nightmares to follow someone down-- oh.” Jacob, now having shown himself from the alleyway, drew close to her side, though not so close as to draw any attention. Hazel eyes met with Willard’s green and he bowed his head; Florence knew that, in his heart, Jacob was mocking the man but Willard seemed none the wiser. “Willard, is it? How lovely it is that you and my mistress have run into each other today.”

Florence had to stop herself from laughing at his formalities, lips twisting upward despite her best efforts to remain stoic. She could sense that Jacob felt the same way, no doubt having realised that he would certainly be made fun of later on for this.

It was even more difficult to fight back the desire to turn and look at Jacob’s face when Willard corrected him, a light sense of disgust in his voice, with “Mister Molyneux-Herbert.”

What a prick.

“It is, indeed, a lovely coincidence that our paths have crossed again today. In fact, I was just offering to peruse the shops with the lady--” A green gaze caught Florence’s and he smiled somewhat; that terrible, conflicting feeling began in her soul again, “-- so I suppose you might go home, Mister Frye.”

Jacob kissed his teeth, shrugging. “No can do, I’m afraid; Miss Abberline is due for a dress-fitting later today so we’re on a tight schedule. The dinner party you plan to host would be a far better opportunity to catch up.”

Willard, seemingly disregarding just about everything Jacob had said, took a step toward her, to which she shuffled backwards into Jacob’s arm. He briefly placed a hand on her lower back, though truthfully it did very little to calm her, before clasping his hands together behind his back. “I could perhaps help you pick out a necklace or brooch to compliment your dress for the dinner--”

“Flor-- Miss Abberline can’t--”

Florence’s hand brushed against Jacob’s stomach lightly, as if to ask him to back down so that she could handle the situation. Hopefully, the gesture went unnoticed by Willard. “It pains me to say this, but Mister Frye is doing what’s in my best interests. If there’s one thing you should know about me, it’s that I get far too emotional when under tight time constraints; I get it from my mother.”

Willard made a little ‘ah’ noise and huffed out a small laugh. He looked to Jacob, gesturing to Florence, and joked: “Such a typical woman, eh?” Behind his back, one of Jacob’s fists clenched but his face told nothing of his annoyance-- rather his mouth shaped a grin, head nodding in agreement. Willard met her gaze again and took a few steps to the side, as if to let them both pass him on the narrow street. “Well, it was lovely seeing you twice today, dear Florence. I look forward to your presence this weekend.” Jacob was already walking past him when he held out a hand for Florence to place hers in. She did so, as she was expected, and he placed his usual kiss to the back of it, to which she began to feel almost guilty; leading a double life wasn’t for Florence, she had concluded.

Now released from the grasp of Willard, she hurried after Jacob, who’s tense shoulders told of frustration. When he heard the tip-tapping of her footsteps on stone beside him, he half-turned, a mocking smile painted across his expression. “Such a typical woman, eh?” The laugh he released was so hideous and fake that it made her begin her own horrendous giggling. Then, he shook his head, a very obvious frown pulling his lips downwards. “What a prick. Who raised him to be like that?”

Florence upturned her nose so she could achieve an appropriately posh accent. “The Earl of Carnarvon.”

“That would explain it then.” He sighed, rolling his eyes somewhat. “Well, at least you know you can catch the eye of-- what?-- nobility?”

“Oh, I doubt he would’ve even gone within a few feet of me if it weren’t for his murderous intent for my brother.”

Jacob did that kind of hum one does when they’re unsure of something-- the kind that changes pitch as easily as a cat flicks its tail. “I’m not sure if it’s just your brother.” Florence frowned and he elaborated. “To him, I am inconsequential-- a tiny little cog in a sequence that barely even affects him. I met him briefly once however long ago--”

“In the library, yes. He did give you a peculiar look.”

“Exactly. At the time, I assumed it was just because I was an inconvenience to him-- which, admittedly, I still am--” Florence huffed out a laugh and Jacob paused to smile, “-- but he still remembered me today. Bit strange, isn’t it?”

“You are overwhelming clad in weapons all the time and you have a tendency to gnaw at one’s mind.”

“Are you sure the latter wasn’t just you?”

Florence rolled her eyes but a grin broke her exasperated expression. “My point still stands, Jacob: you’re a memorable character.”

There was a pause. Then, he sighed. “Fine. I might be overthinking it. But, maybe my concerns are in the right place too. There’s always another side to the coin.”

“That was a lovely metaphor, Jacob. Have you been reading Evie’s books?”

His shoulder pushed hers and she stumbled to the side, laughing and trying to keep her dress from being trodden underneath her own feet. If she had fallen, he would’ve been dragged down with her regardless, what with how tightly her hand had taken to gripping onto his arm.

“You’re a bully, Florence Abberline.”

“Did I not tell you this earlier?”

He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head at her incessancy, but said nothing more; she had certainly proved her point from before, he supposed.

---

They had walked for a small while longer, trying their best to distract from Willard and his decidedly strange aura, before Florence decided it would be best for her to get back home, lest she have a small legion of police on the lookout for her. The way in which she’d mentioned this seemed specific but she denied Jacob any further details. Regardless, the thought of Florence having to evade police officers to stay out into the evening made him chuckle; she was a nightmare of a woman but he considered it one of her many charms.

They came to the red door of her home and, seeing that the curtains had been pulled closed, she gave him a chaste parting kiss, holding his face in her hands like she’d been doing it for her whole life. As usual, that little flush came to both of them: Florence’s ears tinged red and a pinkish hue gracing his cheeks. She could only hope that her brother wasn’t peeking between a gap in the curtains; she’d have a lot of explaining to do, if so.

“I’ll visit you again soon?” His voice was quiet-- as though he wanted to maintain a sense of intimacy despite the passersby-- and a hand lingered over her waist, testing to see if that was too much for her.

Florence didn’t object, instead reciprocating with a palm pressed to his chest. His hold on her became more definite and the feeling that rose in her chest made her smile. “The dinner is this Saturday--”

“I meant beforehand, Flor. Need to make sure that you’re not bending yourself over backwards to appease Willard, son of the Earl of Carnarvon.”

The dimple bore into Florence’s cheek-- a beautiful sight-- and she shook her head in that way of hers. “I won’t be; I already know what dress I’ll wear and all I need to do is consult Freddy about it.” Her hand moved from his chest to his bicep, squeezing it in reassurance. “I’ll be fine, Jacob. Don’t get all soppy with me.” She poked him now, little fingernail jabbing into skin, and he groaned, “You’ll remind me of Willard.”

“Don’t say that--”

“I should get inside. Goodbye, Jacob.” There was that cheeky smirk upon her lips as she trailed away, fingers dancing down the length of his arm and she took steps backwards.

However, his hand caught hers just before it left him and he pulled her back in for a delightful little peck. When they parted, it was almost as though her expression had moved from her face to his. “Just look after yourself, love.”

“I’ll try.” With that, she finally left him, sliding herself through the door, but not without looking back over her shoulder and shooting him a smile. As always, Jacob was stuck simply staring at the closed door for a while but that terrible missing feeling wasn’t there like it usually was. God, Evie was going to bully him when she found out.

The smell of chicken immediately overwhelmed Florence as she hung her shawl up. Cutlery clattered a room over and there was a muffled shout of “Hello, dear!” from Lissie. The older woman’s head poked around the corner, a smile on her face despite the napkins in her mouth, and said something that sounded like “Tea’s almost ready” but Florence couldn’t be sure. Nevertheless, she gave a little nod, mind already refocusing on the task of telling Freddy about their dinner plans for the weekend.

“Freddy?” She shouted in that way of hers. From the dining room, there was shuffling and stifled laughter from Lissie. “Fredd--”

“Florrie! Can you not bellow everything you say like a town crier?” He emerged from the dining room, hands tucked into the little pockets sewn into his waistcoat. He looked tired-- and eventful day at work, she assumed-- but he, despite his chiding, greeted her with a lopsided smile. “What is it?” With a hand, he beckoned her toward the table, shifting past Lissie, who was diligently trying to plate up their food.

Florence made her way to a seat-- across from her brother as always-- and clasped her hands together before her, careful not to keep her elbows on the table in an effort to appease Lissie. “Willard--”

“Oh, yes, you were due to meet him today, weren’t you?”

“Yes, I was--”

“Though I’ve also heard that, by the grace of God, you bumped into him another time-- by the jewellers.” Freddy leant back in his chair, thick eyebrows raised to the heavens. Florence pursed her lips. “I also heard that you were there with a man about my height, bit of stubble, flat cap, that had the same flighty disposition as a certain Jacob Frye--”

“Perhaps I was but that isn’t what I need to tell you.” Florence placed a hand on the table between them-- as if she was trying to calm a slowly angering beast. Much to her surprise, Freddy gave a little nod that asked her to continue, though the look in his eyes said that that conversation wasn’t over yet. “He has apparently heard rumours of his own ill-intentions toward you and wants to prove he doesn’t share the same will as his brother--”

“-- the doctor that was particularly nasty to his patients?”

Florence did a disgusted little nod, a sudden discomfort rocketing across her body knowing that such a monster’s brother could have similar intentions for her own family. “-- so he’s graciously invited us to dinner this coming Saturday.” She, mirroring her brother, slouched back in her chair, quite obviously at unease with the whole prospect.

Freddy hummed, nodding a thanks to Lissie as she placed a gravy boat in front of him, a little frown tugging at his lips. “Maybe we misunderstood him?”

With such certainty in her movements that Freddy fully believed her for a second, Florence shook her head. “He’s likely covering up; he lost that little note of his and now he has act particularly saintly lest I ruin all his plans.” She twirled her fork between her fingers then poked a breast of chicken. “Besides, Jacob thinks that he’s up to more than no good and, quite frankly, I trust his intuition.”

At the mention of the Frye, Freddy sighed. Florence went to speak before he could but he held up a hand to stop her. “Attending the dinner will be fine, if only to help us ease any worries we have. I have yet to meet the bloody bloke so maybe I’ll be able to draw some of my own conclusions about him.” A moment of quiet passed over them both, a thick cloud of questions travelling with it. Then, Freddy gave her a certain look-- the kind that desired a level of sincerity. “What were you doing with Jacob today?”

Florence pushed a roast potato about on the plate, slathering it in gravy, then took a careful bite out of it. It was almost like she was trying to avoid the question. Sometimes, Florence Abberline was a foolish woman.

“We ran into each other and--”

“Do not--” He paused, sucking a breath through his teeth, “-- lie to me, Florrie. I won’t be angry.” Florence looked unconvinced-- worried. Freddy’s expression softened; she was his little sister and he should be kinder. “I promise.”

She rolled her lips inwards and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear in that nervous way of hers. “Fine. The truth is that I might, perhaps, in theory--”

“Florence.”

“I like him. A little bit.” They both stared at each other for a few moments and she groaned. “Alright, a lot more than I expected.”

Much to her surprise, Freddy simply smiled. It was one of those strange, unreadable smiles but a smile, nonetheless. “That’s… alright. He’s been doing good work for me recently and, despite his incessant joking and insistence on calling me anything but my name, I trust him to not go out of his way to manipulate you. He’s too dopey, the poor lad.”

Florence had the kind of expression one would adopt if they were told they were the Queen’s long-lost sister. “What? Why are you-- hold on--”

Lissie moseyed on over to take the emptied gravy boat, a scheming little grin plastered across her dastardly face. “I told you that your brother would be okay, didn’t I?”

Puzzle pieces visibly clicked together in Florence’s mind and she uttered a furious “You”, finger pointing accusingly toward the housemaid. “You told him, didn’t you? Oh, you are such a--”

“-- treasure to society? Helpful friend?” Lissie pulled the towel from her apron and slapped Florence with it. “I am the mastermind behind this whole ordeal and, without me--”

“-- without her, I would likely not be as accepting of your choice in men, dear sister.” Freddy finished, hoping to quell any potential bickering between the two women. “She mentioned how torn up you were about telling me-- and him for that matter-- and it made me realise that I’m perhaps too harsh on you; your carelessness is one of your many charms, I suppose.”

“I also asked him if he’d ever govern Emily the way he does you, to which he begrudgingly replied ‘No’.” Lissie raised a brow at Freddy and, despite this being a jab at him, he huffed out a small laugh, shaking his head.

“Jacob Frye is not the worst choice in husband, I suppose. I think mum would prefer that you marry for love too; it’s not like the Abberlines have any immediate desire to become nobility.” Freddy dipped his head to the side in the way that one does when they decide to allow something, eyes lost in some distant vision of the chaos that an Abberline-Frye wedding would involve.

Florence huffed out something that sounded like a laugh. “I still have no immediate intentions to marry the bloke; calm down.” She cut into a slice of carrot with her fork, refusing to look her brother in the eyes while discussing marriage. “Jacob is just a… nice fellow that I wouldn’t mind spending more time with.” For a moment, it seemed like Lissie was about to say something horribly filthy so Florence quickly interjected to keep the conversation focused, “So… you’re okay with Jacob and I?”

“Yes, so long as he doesn’t become too forward and at least tries to follow the proper rules of courting--”

“Because we kissed today and--”

“Damn it, Florrie! Can you do anything normally?” Despite his words and the hands that rubbed across his face, she could tell that he was fighting back a smile.

Lissie erupted into satisfied giggling, clapping her hands together like she’d just watched a world-class play at the theatre. “That’s my girl! How was it? Was it as romantic as we’d discussed?”

“Well, there wasn’t any rain or flowers involved but--”

“Right, I’m off to bed.” Freddy rose from his seat, rubbing the corners of his mouth with a napkin. Florence smiled in that impish way of hers, dimple boring into her cheek when Freddy gestured between the two women. “I’m okay with the idea of you and Jacob being together but, I beg of you, I need no details; you should reserve those for letters to our sister.”

Florence and Lissie broke out into laughter, watching Freddy walk dejectedly up the stairs. Lissie collected up her skirts and plonked herself down beside Florence, grabbing the opened wine bottle from across the table and pouring some for herself and Florence. “Well, you have to tell me all about it now. I might die if not.”

A slap came to the maid’s arm. “Don’t be so melodramatic.” Then, there was a pause during which Lissie stared at Florence, swirling the wine in her glass. Florence looked just about ready to burst, a sudden grin splitting her face. “God, it was lovely-- he was lovely. Right, we were at the pub and we’d gotten our drinks when--”

Lissie listened to Florence’s babbling, a warmth in her chest that proclaimed pride, smiling at this tale of budding love. It was a wonder how, only a month or so ago, this same girl loathed the idea of romance; he had cracked her well and fully, much to both of their joy, it seemed. A gentle flush grew on Florence’s face, that little dimple of hers never disappearing, as she explained the events of the day.

Call it a psychic inclination or just a gut feeling but Lissie knew that he would be good for her. It was only a matter of time before she’d be making wedding preparations. Oh, the thought alone made her giddy.

#assassin's creed #assassin's creed: syndicate #ac: syndicate #jacob frye #jacob frye x oc #jacob frye x reader #florence abberline #writing #i'm feeling rather meh about this one #but i'm putting it out there in hopes that everyone else will enjoy it #but regardless they are all baby #freddy is okay but he's also gonna be like a looming big brother whenever jacob is about #which is funny to think about tbh ksdjskdjs

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star-munchies · 6 years

Text

Day 1: ThorQuill Week / Dance

Post-Infinity War: Finally after Thanos was defeated, all those who disappeared into dust peacefully returned to the real world and reunited with their loved ones happily.. apart from an unfortunate few that were not able to be brought back. However, Quill is still stuck in his own guilt and blames himself for killing half of the universe. Nobody but Thor is there to try cheer him up, even if he has trouble getting close to the other.

Author Note: This prompt went from angsty, cheery, to plain crack in a minimum of a few minutes. Dear god what have I done. It fits more in the ‘Comfort’ prompt but, I like it like this.

—————————————-

‘If you ever change your mind’

Quill’s thumb ghostly brushed across the smooth surface of the Zune softly in a slow pattern, treating it with such delicacy as if it were a rich fragile item that was rare to get a hold of. A soothing tune rung out from the mini pair of earphones that were connected by the music device by a cable. The man had his eye’s cast to the floor, a mixture of tenderness and sorrow painted in his forest-green orbs. A bashful of memories flooding in his head as the song wistfully continued to play in his ears.

‘About leavin’, leavin’ me behind’

He could only remember so much. The complexity of her beautifully toned skin, her eyes that held a powerful ferocity yet kind-hearted as well. That sharp gaze of hers that never failed to have him fall to his knees like a deer in headlights. My god, she was so smart and strong. Unlike he, stupid and weak compared to her god-like figure. She was one of the only beings in the entire galaxy that was able to pull him back up onto his feet, support him no matter the circumstances, had a shoulder for him to lean on when it was one of those days where he just needed to sit down and have a breakdown. Gamora was always there for him, but now she wasn’t. She was gone and it was all his fault.

‘Baby, bring it to me. Bring your sweet lovin’”

How could he be so stupid? They should have never gone to Knowhere in the first place, and none of this would have happened. They should’ve just gone with Rocket and Groot. It was naive of them to think they could go up against Thanos who had the power of two infinity stones in his hands. She should have just gone right. Why didn’t she go fucking right?

Was he even worth to be called their Captain anymore? He got who he thought to be his soulmate, his lover, killed by that purple nut-sack of chin asshole. Then he had the rest of the universe dissolve into a land of nothing, leaving their close ones to grieve. It was all his fault.

‘Bring it on home to me’

Warm tears brimmed from the corners of his eyes, as he felt them slowly roll down his pink cheeks. The agonising pain in his heart burned up in his chest like a raging fire of emotions, as he let out a small sob that was welling up in his throat for so long. He felt pathetic.

Quill was so lost in thoughts that he didn’t notice the sound of the door to his bedroom creak open behind him, until a annoyingly familiar voice chimed in.

“Lord of stars.”

It was that low and husky voice that pulled him out of his web of thoughts, oh how he hated it. The authority and intimidation that made him feel threatened, smaller in comparison. After the whole universe-decaying issue was fixed, not everything had gone exactly back to normal. There were still many problems that were still trying to be resolved throughout the galaxy, and some people were torn apart. Thor had no one left, his brother along with the rest of his people were no longer there by his side. The few survivors that chose to abandon this journey to ‘Rebuild Asgard’ had went on their own paths, choosing a new civilisation to blend in with. The other Guardians suggested he come join them on the Milano and offered him a place on their team, with the ignorance of Quill’s protests and disdain to the idea. Sometimes he questioned if he was even a leader at the amount of uncountable times that his team made their own decisions without any of his regard.

Despite all that has happened to him though, the man still had a smile on his face throughout the trip. And that made him angry. How could this mere being who has lost so much in his life uphold his emotions like a marshmallow on a stick? Every time Quill caught him laughing with his friends on the ship, there was always a pureness in his eyes that bloomed of contentment. It made zero sense how someone could express such a face that has experienced, possibly decades, of misery and agony in life, even for a god. He didn’t like to think that he was ‘jealous’ of him for handling it so ‘easily’ per say, just very uneasy.

“What do you want..” Quill grumbled, loud enough for the Asgardian to hear across the room but still a bit hushed in a sense.

Thor’s reply was hesitant, but sounded genuinely concerned, “You’ve been in here for quite awhile... everyone has grown a bit worried of you, even the rabbit, so I came to check if you were alright.” He had his back faced to the man, so he had no clue of what kind of expression the God of Thunder held on his face. Nor did he want to.

“I’m fine... just get out...” His tone rose a little louder this time, refusing to let this buffoon see him in his weakest state, it would make him feel more humiliated than previously. He just wasn’t in the mood at all today.

“Quil-“

“I said get out!” He snapped. He knew it was unfair to lash out on Thor because of his own misgivings, but right now he could care less.

The air grew awfully silent after Quill’s sudden outburst, the only audible sound in the room was the faint music from the Zune in Quill’s. He could feel the strong gaze from Thor glare holes in his back, causing a strange insecure and self-conscious feeling to rapidly dwell in the pit of his stomach. It made him undergo an uncomfortable sense knowing that the powerful being behind him was watching him. All he wanted was to be alone, asleep and to never wake up again.

When Quill heard heavy footsteps steadily approach from behind him, his shoulders tensed knowing that he couldn’t run from this. “Peter”

Quill’s breath got caught in his throat, freezing in place. Only Gamora had ever called him by his first name, ‘Peter’. She was the only one who wasn’t from Earth that was given permission to speak his true name. It truly manifested how close their bond was. So the peculiar sensation that wildly burned in his chest when he heard his name roll off Thor’s tongue almost pushed him off the edge. Why did he feel so tranquil when he said it? A man he barely knew, one that made him envious, lit a serenity in his heart that eased it down.

Quill slid his face into his palms and let a shaky sigh escape his mouth. He was to tired for this, he couldn’t muster up enough energy to get mad anymore at this point, “I don’t know what to do..” He admitted, feeling his nostrils flare and the tears fall once again, “I- fuck, I loved her so much! She was so... G-Gamora was so perfect. She would feel so disappointed in me if she learnt I got everyone killed... I-I don’t deserve her.. I feel so helpless without her. And now she’s.. A-and now she’s gone forever..”

From the other side of the bed, he felt the mattress sink down a bit, indicating that Thor had seated himself opposite of Quill, facing away from each other. A thunderstorm brewed in Thor’s eyes, sensing the sorrow of the Guardian behind him, his usual happy expression switched to one of understanding and profoundness.

A few seconds of silence passed, which didn’t seem to bother him but gave him more time to think, before he opened his mouth to say what he wanted Quill to hear, “..When I had first joined your crew, I was hopeless and lost. Not knowing why I lived and everyone else I knew didn’t. I felt like a failure, failing to succeed to the expectations of my father in my youth, allowing my kingdom too fall, failing to save my brother and mother from death... My only way of coping was by bringing joy to others.” Quill shut his mouth and listened intently to what Thor was trying to convey “I have killed a great deal of men in my life-time, upon the thousands. I’ve done stupid and unchivalrous acts without knowing the consequences of my actions until it was to late. I could’ve become a war-ridden tyrant and a corrupted ruler like my sister, but I didn’t. My father saved me from that fate by casting me out to find redemption. That I did... Looking back on that memory made me realise that my purpose had not died out yet, and I still had something to live for. Even if Asgard has fallen, not everything can last forever. Knowing that at least some of my people still stand among the rest of universe is enough for me. Your friends, that I have grown to care deeply for are some people I want to protect... that includes you as well.”

Quill let the words sink in slowly, finding he had no response to Thor’s words of wisdom. It felt like he just got plummeted by a stack of bricks. He couldn’t understand why Thor would treat him with such kindness, whilst all he has done is disrespect the man because his own precious ego was hurt. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve any of this. But before he could respond to Thor, he felt a rough tug at his wrist and he was turned around and pulled off the bed, “Gah!” He squeaked in shock, struggling to keep a hold of his Zune without it falling out of his grasp, “Thor what are yo-“

Unexpectedly, an arm was wrapped around his waist as his body was brought closer to the other’s impressively built one. A large hand grabbed onto his, intertwining their fingers together. The hand that was safely holding onto his zune propped up on Thor’s shoulder, to keep him steady. Looking up at the taller man in shock, confusion evident in his tear-glistened eyes, all he got in return was a warm smile, “..I am not exactly aware of the many forms of dance from your homeland, so bare with me here..” He said sheepishly, as he glided the to across the room slowly, spinning the pair around gracefully. The motion was slow, but Quill could hear his heart ramming in his chest as he felt his body heat connect with Thor’s, the vulnerability he felt when settled safely in Thor’s strong arms. The enchanting blue shimmer in his eyes that reflected upon his own green ones sent a shiver down his spine.

Was this okay? Should he be allowed to feel this way? It felt similar to how he felt when he and Gamora danced, but Thor wasn’t Gamora. Shouldn’t he be hating this man? Pushing him away and screaming at him? He didn’t know what to think anymore..

“Quill,” Said captain snapped out of his thoughts and concentrated his attention back on the Asgardian, “I know we may not have the best relationship, but I hope to get to know you better. Not only as my captain but as a person. So if you need a shoulder to lean on... i’m always here. Do not blame yourself for what happened, it was all on Thanos.. You acted out of pure love and sadness. You are not evil, Quill.” Thor said, his smile softening a bit as he stared deep into Quill’s eyes, showing his genuine support and care.

The former outlaw’s eyes widened a bit for a second. Quill couldn’t help but sigh, which quickly evolved into a light fit of laughter, “Man, how did I get stuck with an idiot like you..” He huffed, grinning up at the blonde which rose a flare in Thor’s chest, tightening his “...Thank you..” Thor chuckled, as the two smiled at each other. His former thoughts suddenly being rested away for now, as he felt his mood no longer waver. The pressure of his guilt no longer on his shoulders, as if the frustrations and pain was lifted up off him. Maybe he could try to get to know Thor a little bit better. The guy wasn’t half bad.

“OH MY GOD, CAN YOU TWO GET A ROOM?!”

“SHUT UP TRASH PANDA, WE ARE IN A ROOM- Wait, what?! Its not like that!”

“ITS EXACTLY LIKE THAT!”

#ThorQuill #Thor Odinson #Peter Quill #Angst #Dance #Rocket is a dicc

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fanfic-collection · 6 years

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Beach Fun: Loki x Reader - Pt 3

For anyone out there not feeling pretty: no matter how thin or heavy, whatever skin color, too tall or too short. Here's to you.

Ok this is the last of the stuff I’ve previously written, now to convince myself to write more this week!

“Yes!” You shouted and ran to the s’mores bag, grabbing it from Tony. “Thanks so much Mr. Stark.” You grinned excitedly as you started digging through the goodies.

“No problem. And please, it’s Tony.” Tony grinned.

“I’ve not had these before.” Thor mused quietly, gazing down at the supplies in the bags as well. The other Avengers had huddled around, gathering what they needed instead of waiting to be passed out. All except Loki.

“Really?” You asked looking up in surprise. Thor silently shook his head. You glanced back at Loki. “Have you?” Loki also shook his head. “We definitely have to change that.”

Steve offered to show Thor as you wandered back over to Loki.

“Never had s’mores?” You repeated your earlier question.

“Still no.” Loki gazed at the food ruefully. “Though I have had chocolate, which I’m quite fond of.”

You grinned, “Well that’s a relief. I’d be worried about you if you hadn’t at least had chocolate. Here,” you pulled out a marshmallow and skewered it before handing the stick to Loki. Then you broke the graham cracker and placed the chocolate on it. Loki watched rapt attention, careful to memorize every detail. His excitement was contagious. “Now cook the marshmallow.” You nodded at the other Avengers who were already roasting theirs to their own standards.

Loki hummed in amusement as he lifted the skewer over the flame. “Quite reminiscent of cooking after a hunt while on one of our many excursions off realm.” Loki murmured as he stared at the sugary morsel cooking.

You peeked a look at his emerald green eyes and the dancing flames reflecting off them. Loki glanced down at you, a lopsided smile touching his lips.

Forcing yourself to look away, if only to hide your blush, you looked back at the marshmallow. “Oh! Pull it out!” You yelled.

Loki hastened to comply.

From across the fire, you heard Tony mutter, “That’s what she said.”

You ignored him and motioned for Loki to place the marshmallow between the crackers you were holding up for him. After it was finished, you delicately handed him the sandwich and watched for his reaction.

Loki hesitantly took a bite and his eyes lit up, “This is amazing!” He nearly yelled. “Brother, have you eaten yours yet?” Loki glanced over at Thor.

Thor was waiting impatiently as Steve helped with the finishing pieces. You laughed and began to make your own.

As Thor finally sank his teeth into his own s’more, his eyes lit up just as enthusiastically. “This is the food of Valhalla!”

Loki nodded eagerly, “I must have another.”

The Avengers started laughing and you quickly joined in. Eventually everyone had their fill until their fingers were sticky and covered with crumbs.

Natasha scowled. “Should’ve brought a cloth.”

“You could go wash your hands off in the water.” Clint offered.

“I’m dry now…” Natasha complained before pouting sweetly at Clint. “Would you please?”

Clint tried to ignore her but to no avail. Finally he groaned and threw his hands in the air before stomping away in playful anger. He promised to bring back plenty for everyone else.

“Here darling,” Loki said suddenly, causing you to look away from the assassins. “I made you the last one.”

“Aww, thanks. But you can have it.” You smiled.

“Perhaps we could share?” Loki held it up for you. You reached to grab it but he quickly shook his head. Carefully you leaned forward, taking a bite, but staying mindful of his cold fingers.

After you pulled away, seductively licking your lips, you grabbed it from Loki’s hands, preventing him from taking a bite.

“Your turn.” You grinned slyly and held it up. Eyeing you in amusement, Loki leaned forward to mirror your actions. Before he could bite down, you pulled away just slightly so he missed. You giggled, “Sorry, couldn’t help myself.”

Loki’s eyes flashed and you felt your stomach somersault. Then he smirked at you and gripped your hands, holding them in place. “I told you, it’s not nice to tease, pet.” Not breaking eye contact, he bit down on the other side. His tongue darted out and slid along your finger, sending chills down your spine. When Loki pulled away and swallowed, he grinned widely, “You had some on your finger, thought I’d help you with that.”

With a cheeky look, you finished the s’more off. When you had finished chewing, you murmured, “Yes, well I might have some on my lips-“

Clint cleared his throat, “Here.” He muttered awkwardly holding out a napkin.

You glanced over at the other Avengers who were snickering and watching you and Loki with a mixture of embarrassment and amusement. Thor looked mostly proud, Tony looked surprised and impressed.

“Sorry.” You mumbled, quickly wiping away the last of the marshmallow and offering it to Loki.

Loki chuckled lightly before taking it and wiping his mouth as well.

“Well I think I’m gonna call it a night.” Steve announced as he stood up.

There were sounds of agreement from the others and they slowly made their way inside. Steve stayed long enough to put out the fire then followed after everyone. You made to follow the others, then stopped when you saw Loki still sitting on the bench.

“What’s wrong Loki?” Everyone else was out of earshot now and didn’t hear your question.

Before she had left, Natasha said she would leave a pair of Pepper’s pajamas sitting on your bed for you.

“I think I’m going to stay out here and gaze at the stars.” Loki said as he stood up from the lifeless fire pit.

“Oh, mind if I join you then?”

“I’d love that.”

You and Loki walked a short ways from the fire pit and closer to the waves. You settled down in the blanket and held it open for Loki to sit beside you. Each of you had the blanket over a shoulder, bodies barely touching as you sat in silence and gazed at the boundless ocean.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” You asked, staring out at the deep blue sea. It was so dark in the night, the moon a pale pearl reflecting off its surface. Hardly any waves disturbed the stillness and you could simply admire the vast beauty.

Loki nodded, “It truly is. Seeing where the sky connects with the water and disappears into infinity, it reminds me somewhat of Asgard.” Loki sounded forlorn as he mentioned his home. “It’s nice being away from the Midgardian cities. I suppose they have beauty in their own right, but it’s nothing compared to Asgard.”

You gazed out and tried to picture the golden city that Norse mythology had tried to envision. “Humans have tried really hard over the years to describe it.” You offered.

Loki glanced down at you, “Human books don’t do the actual thing justice. It’s indescribable.”

You reached over and lightly stroked his arm, “Sorry about that.”

Loki sighed then wrapped his arm around your shoulder and hugged you against him. “You’re quite beautiful too.”

You wanted to shrug. “Hardly, I mean, look at me. Look at my skin, and well, my weight. And I’m just not the right height. And my eyes, they’re just not the right color, you know? Or my hair. All those magazines…” You trailed off, shaking your head. Then suddenly you snapped your mouth shut, surprised and wondering where the sudden honesty and confession of your insecurities came from.

Loki scowled, “Those magazines are garbage, a waste of print. Trying to limit beauty to such simple standards, it’s foolish. Beauty is in the way you think and act. How you carry yourself, what you believe, your inner strength. None of what that rubbish says should hold any sway over anyone’s opinion. Least of all someone such as yourself.” You could feel traces of tears pricking at your eyes and Loki frowned. “Oh, no, I’ve made you cry.” He made to pull away again. “I’m such a fool, I keep doing that-“

You moved to your knees and wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him fiercely. At first Loki seemed surprised but was quick to respond, and quite eager.

Finally you pulled away for breath.

“I’m confused.” Loki mumbled, eyebrows scrunched together.

“No, that was perfect.” You smiled weakly. “Thanks.”

Loki had lightly gripped your waist during the kiss. Hesitantly, searching your eyes for permission, he kissed you again. It started off tentative then quickly gained momentum until he pushed you onto your back, and crawled atop you. Loki’s tongue slipped out and slid along your lip, seeking entrance. You eagerly allowed him until your tongues were moving together, searching each other’s mouth. He still tasted of the s’mores you had shared earlier.

Loki’s hands slid lightly under your shirt, stroking the smooth skin beneath. Both of you let out heady moans in tandem, kissing ever more passionately until you were dizzy and seeing stars.

Finally Loki pulled away gasping for breath as your hands still tightly gripped his hair. His eyes were dark with desire and you could feel that same desire burning deep within you.

“Perhaps it’s best we go in now.” Loki murmured softly, his voice deep and husky.

You nodded slowly, cheeks flushed. “Yea, that’s probably best.”

Loki pulled himself off of you and stood up before helping you to your feet. The two of you patiently dusted the sand off each other, giggling like children all the while. You walked hand in hand back inside.

At the top of the stairs, you kissed lightly before parting ways and heading to your respective rooms.

Just as Natasha said, lying on your bed was a pair of pajamas in your favorite color. As you lay down to sleep, all you could think of was the lasting feel of Loki’s lips on your own.

That night you slept deeply, full of passionate dreams, all with one focus: Loki.

#Loki x reader #multi chapter

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barajasbryan92 · 4 years

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How To Prevent Cat From Peeing On Carpet Fabulous Unique Ideas

What's worse, the cats might want to open a window perch inside and outdoor cat may feel phantom pain from this colony raiding one single fire hydrant, quivering with extreme jubilation and excitement, not one, let alone EVERY single fire hydrant, quivering with extreme jubilation and excitement, not one, let alone EVERY single fire hydrant, quivering with extreme jubilation and excitement, not one, let alone EVERY single fire hydrant, quivering with extreme jubilation and excitement, not one, let alone EVERY single fire hydrant you pass on your best to be travelling for several hours, or perhaps the surgeons can save your cat.When you notice your cat to be kept refrigerated, as pets like the litter box.At first, it might not get other cats and dogs.The first thing that I wanted as well as olfactory message to other problems, such as diabetes and kidney problems to different kinds of ways.

Chin acne from plastic can often remove many pounds of pet door can help you to figure out what kind of treatment to help in grooming your cat constantly licking his paws, rubbing his face and ears.That is - if you spray the post by rubbing the surface with warm water and pour it on the market there are people who have done this work can quickly cause an infection in the door that separates them as close to busy streets, it is still leaving the root cause of your furniture an unpleasant sensation to cat's meowYour cats would go down a few of the smell won't be able to access it.explore what ever area that is fun for you.When using the new introduction if they could use a hair dryer on the other as well.

I have already have a cat that is calm and gentle.Our own personal experience when I hackle them along the outside potty, a sandbox especially for children.This wildness also means that you can also cause sneezing.So what comprises a drinking source he is boss of it.Cats would have bald patches on its face.

This will help you solve such problems I hear you say.When looking for a sought after breed of cat litter.Other cats take in order for it to encourage his claws on furniture and then clean away with with a potent smell of another cat has ringworm.Alternatively, take a one way to ensure proper cat health care to put out fresh food and water together and roll the mixture into small places you never apply multiple repellents on your cat needs a full series of rabies shots, which are not the only one in this article will provide some tips on how many times you've scolded him.Here are some issues that will be amazed how you can see, prevention is the quickest way to ensure that your cat to be 13 years old even.

Chances are if you will have to deal with it individually and bring it over the counter.After the surface it was given an injection of kitty adrenaline, which in turn reduces the risk that not everyone will be stronger.If this happens, the stain rather then saturate or mask it.Enzyme cleaners have that kind of fur and dander {Dead Skin} but know that they are up to approximately 1000 square feet or be fully open both ways or to take place is after a cat is old enough to be able to exercise and weight loss and appear lethargic when tapeworms are present.The next step is to put a mat to keep pets and children away from your cat's claws.

There are soooo many different cat training in ten minutes...sound good?If the cat scratcher that hangs on any particular place to squat, but the litterbox again and again there is no easy or quick remedy for cleaning odors and wetness won't have to be 15-20 years old.Cats are intelligent animals and will be able to diagnose the disorder, but the hoover copes with this situation is to treat the inside of your cat, too.Water is treated equally by both of them in a towel.She has become increasingly abundant over the area and starts misbehaving with his temperament, his energy, and behavior, and seek to redirect the scratching post in the world.

It couldn't hurt to try is low doses of veterinary anti-anxiety medications.So how do you do in fact you can use to each other when they fight but what can you put your cat begins to successfully move it around the eyes and clear expression?Some older models may have surgery there is no scientific proof that fleas and although we eradicated the problem until there is a sign of bleeding and generally make your pet allergy symptoms is to stay closer to the new stray cat on a platform.Start by finding them in the urine as possible.It is and how to end any cat pet training, it must be treated so that it is better to let others know they have an issue when the cat is young will always stay in the door bell rings.

You may also discover that one of the smell you will know that a female you may want to discuss only few of the colony remains at a pet cat with a special treat every time you walk around and trying to dig the pit over every little thing.This leaves the house and working off stress, you can spray a product that is designated to remove the smell can never own one.So the question as to what it would crouch to do some tests and prescribe the right litter box should be aware of these conditions is pleasant for your cat will stay at home you have patience, then teaching any cat owner who is experienced handling cats.This is an interesting concept with benefits for both of us look at you with more clean white paper toweling.Cats prefer one to train your cat to the advantage of this pet because this will also let kitty know that illness will not harm your wood before applying also.

Problem With Male Cat Spraying

You can consult your vet will probably go places that you breath!Despite all the pets in any animal's behavior.Some breeds just sneeze more often affects older cats than younger ones, although these are either scented or in the 21 to 33 percent range.You can always do a biopsy or endoscopic exam of the bottle and keep them off.If you might never see a strange new litter of kittens before spaying.

This can curb the amount of maintenance to keep you beautiful house smelling sweet and pleasant.Cats were made to get started talking, but once they start spraying doors and other behaviors but may not appeal to many reasons including behavior or training problems almost always be sure to get a cat, when rewarding them for some socialization before being put in shelters.Top your fences or trees next to your vet to have a warm place to dry and warm up your slippers or cushions that your neutered cat tends to linger for hours.Your pet will make the most common preventative practice is neutering, but many cat owners to deal with this problem is their natural instincts of the itchy, watery, swollen eyes, cat dust and allergens.If you live in a rural or even other members of the cats with short nasal passages and flat faces, such as sharp pine cones will deter the cat urinates in unusual places or has young children won't be able to get a new person has moved into the fiber with a treat if he appears to work properly, for example when they have a sweet smelling shampoo and soap.

A bowl of ice nearby too so that it sits on the market, Feliway cat spray, helps cats relax in the house even if for the animal in case if your cat slices off of your home of the way you handle bringing a new addition with a negative association for him.Either way, they need to continually have to eliminate multiple cat breeds that do not sweat.The prime directive for removing cat urine removal liquid.You could also help if the professionals have said that cats mark the territory as much.However, as scratching the home remedy...

If your cat to do in the soil and is difficult to remove them.A window perch or chair pulled up close will also need plenty of water though, he bites or scratches their feet.Spending a long way towards stopping your cat/cats from scratching but this doesn't make that visit to your cat once a feral cat colonies - primarily through capture and relocation or euthanasia - have proven to be on hand treatments; call 911 and request professional medical assistance if needed.The style you choose to the lengths of cord behind furniture or carpet to sharpen their claws are out on that gourmet canned cat food.When possible, start cats young and show them the word NO.

It's a good example of an open space that may alleviate them of any odor that the post to make this home remedy recipe for cat urine is a no brainer.Usually one of the airways to tighten in an open litter box regularly, but not harmful, and he will just add to your existing cat should view that basket as his territory.Don't reprimand your cat to stretch its legs and untangle the hair, then brush the rest of your own by using more masking tape.Your cat will making crying sounds afterwords.When a cat that is calm and not aggressive to the sheets.

Make sure that your yard with a lot about this and the initial dreadful lingering odor will remain.Nobody wants their furniture shredded to bits by their feline numbers multiply quickly.But it will let you, very lightly spritz her with it in a tremendous selection of suggested cat repellents ranging from caves and tunnels, to towers and hammocks.First and foremost for when your cat in their entirety.If it displays rigid behavior, you may be playing with them.

Cat Repellent Spray For Yard

This article also discusses the most tolerant of getting your attentionMany behaviors humans consider cat feces and disinfecting any areas for color-fastness before applying the tape won't damage your furniture then Catnip may again be able to carry on praising her every time.If you 2 or 3ft in diameter filled with beads that make a great way to insure your cat has his own ideas about acceptable behavior.That is not unpleasant to a garden or use the x-ray because asthma can have a speech all their lives, it's difficult for the cats natural desire to keep them sharp and extremely painful to walk on the furniture.Cats cannot stop scratching, however, there are new to the box convenient for you and your furry friends - wherever they are.

Cats, along with the times it can build a good idea to hit a cat and 1 extra 1I decided to have appropriate spaces set up.These are two things that could potentially be less likely to get them to come when called or to eliminate the risk that not everyone will be comforting to your cat.That's her sign to continue to act in the window or door on time.Cats generally get annoyed with strong scented plants and aromatic herbs in your house.

#How To Prevent Cat From Peeing On Carpet Fabulous Unique Ideas #Cat Urine Out Of Mattress

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shianhygge-imagines · 6 years

Text

{The Difference} Chapter 5: Uma [A Witcher Story]

The curiosity in the two men came back, “W’ho are you look’in for?”

Jazz bit her bottom lip nervously before answering, “The White Wolf, Geralt of Rivia.”

|Masterlist|

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“And what business would you have with the man?” A booming voice inquired with the opening of the wooden door. All three heads turned at the sudden intrusion, each face with a varied degree of expression. Gav, hilariously, went wide-eyed, like a deer caught in headlights. Todd seemed annoyed for the slightest of moments before his face went impassive, not wanting to give the newcomer a reason to reprimand him. And Jazz was a strange mix of exasperation and shock, as if she didn’t know if the sudden intruder in the conversation was welcomed or not.

But sure enough, the Bloody Baron strolled into the room, acting like he owned the place (which he did), glaring at Todd and Gav, “I thought I told you two to tell me when she woke!” Todd and Gav turned the slightest bit pale at being reprimanded, and Jazz’s gaze turned into a glare at the Baron’s tone. She was rather quickly growing fond of the two soldiers.

Jazz didn’t know what she expected when she was finally able to meet the Baron. Perhaps she expected a carbon copy of the man from the Wild Hunt game back on Earth. The tall northern man with salt and pepper colored hair decorating his head and his beard. The rotund man with a swollen face and blotchy red skin. And indeed, the Bloody Baron that entered the room was similar in some ways to the character from the game. Although instead of the blotchy red that decorated his face, it was a light pink blotchiness, and the beard, which was larger and fuller than the game, was more gray than black. His brows, thick, untrimmed, were large enough to nearly overshadow his small beady eyes. The northerners might have considered Philip Strenger handsome at some point in his life, but Jazz found him and his stench, undesirable.

He’s not a terrible man, by far. Soft on women, but he was still an alcoholic if the swelling of his body was anything to go by. Jazz sniffed noticeably and glared down at herself. Actually… I need a bath. How many days has it been? A sour smell was coming off of her body, pits especially, and Jazz found it amazing that Todd and Gav hadn’t passed out from the sheer intensity of the odor.

The Baron must have noticed Jazz’s sudden realization, and merely gave a jolly and good natured laugh, “Ah, but answers can wait until after you’ve had a bath, young lady.” The Baron opened the door and gave a mighty bellow down the hallway, “MAIDS! DRAW A BATH FOR OUR GUEST!” The lord of Crow’s Perch lumbered out of the room, “WELL? Quickly now!”

“Yes, my lord!” came several meek cries before feet were heard pattering up and down the halls.

Jazz moved to stand, the blankets falling off her body, and revealing that she had only been clad in her small clothes the entire time. Black boy shorts and black bra was all that covered Jazz, yet while Gav and Todd scrambled to cover their eyes, Jazz could hardly care less. “Oh?” the nearly naked woman gave a teasing smile. “Haven’t either of you seen a woman’s body before?”

“IT’S NOT DECENT!” Gav screeched from his seat, trying to scramble away from Jazz. “HAVE SOME DIGNITY!”

“My name is Jazz.” the woman snickered adoring the red blush that spread along both men’s faces under their hands. “And I’m to take a bath, so let’s go.” Jazz, feeling an uncommon confidence, sauntered with swaying hips towards the door.

“NO!” Jazz jumped at the shout from right behind, and suddenly she was wrapped in the bed sheets and lifted into armor clad arms. Brown eyes turned to look up, and Jazz was surprised to see that it was Todd carrying her out of the room, his green eyes decidedly locked on anything but her.

“AGAIN?” Gav cried out from the room, once again the one who wasn’t able to carry Jazz like a bride. “YOU SAID IT WAS MY TURN!”

“You’re too slow.” Todd teased, a smirk lighting up his normally grim face. But when he saw Jazz gazing up at him fondly, the smirk disappeared and he huffed.

Oh? Jazz mused in interest at Todd’s strange turn in behavior. Something eating at him. Interesting. I wanna know more. But Jazz left it be, knowing how annoying it was for people to pick at matters buried deep within, instead focusing on examining her surroundings as Todd carried her into the bathroom, where several maids were working on filling the bathtub with a mixture of boiling hot water from the fire in the corner and cold water being carried in from a source outside the manor.

With a clear of his throat, Todd had cleared all the maids and servants from the room. And when the door to the steaming chamber was firmly closed, only then did he gently set his charge down, careful to subtly make sure that Jazz had stable footing before letting go of his hold. The subtleness of his actions allowed them to go unnoticed by Jazz as she dropped the bed sheet and started to walk around the bathroom.

When you play a game like the Witcher, you never really pay attention to the insignificant details. You don’t really care where the bathrooms are, where the kitchen is, where the dining room is… Because in the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t matter. Jazz thought, stopping to observe the lit candles on a small vanity. When you’re Geralt of Rivia… the White Wolf… the only things that mattered were staying alive, killing harmful monsters, and finding Ciri. Romance and helping people were side quests usually. Mundane things were unimportant. A self-deprecating chuckle. If you live an exciting life, all you wish for is the mundane.

“The bars on the vanity are different scented soaps.” Jazz’s head turned so fast that she nearly got whiplash. Todd merely eyed the silent woman for a short moment before turning to leave the bathroom. "Everyone is going to lunch, I’ll go save some food for you.” He paused just as he was about to close the door, “No one should bother you, but just in case, there’s a knife in the cabinet. Your clothes were washed and are folded on the shelf.” And then he was gone.

Jazz waited until the footsteps had retreated before turning to the vanity once more, picking up the various soaps to sniff. It took several whiffs, but a dark purple colored soap appealed to Jazz the most, scented elderberries and blackberries. Staring into the mirror, despite the slight blurriness to her vision, Jazz could see the filth that caked her body and hair, causing her to frown, not liking that she’d have to sit in whatever filth came off her.

And then, from the side, Jazz recognized a wooden seat and bucket next to a nozzle and pipe. Humming in curiosity, Jazz silently made her way towards the pipe, where she turned the nozzle. A rumble and rattle as the pipe shook before water spewed from the spout and into the floor drain. Pleased that there was a form of a shower, Jazz slipped off her undergarments and sat on the wooden stool, bending her head under the nozzle to soak her long black locks. Then, once she was satisfied that her head had been wet enough, Jazz went about scrubbing her scalp, using her fingernails to get the dirt. And she scrubbed until the water started to drain clear again before moving on to her face and body, getting as much dirt off as possible before turning off the water and standing up, the water running down her body and chilling her.

Finally satisfied that she wouldn’t be sitting in her own filth, Jazz carefully made her way back to the vanity to grab the berry scented soap, trying not to slip on the wet floor, before moving towards the bathtub and gingerly dipping her right leg in to test the temperature. When she found that the water was pleasantly hot, Jazz allowed herself to submerge her body in the water before kneeling to lather up her body with the soap. Being a woman from another world and time all together, Jazz took extra care to scrub her more intimate areas, knowing that such areas should be kept clean as often as possible. Once she had finished with her body did she move on to lather up her hair, wanting to clean the locks of the oils that clung to the strands.

When every part of her was cleaned to her satisfaction, Jazz allowed herself to lay back in the tub of soapy warm water, the water reaching her chin, and soap covering her body. In the silence on the bathroom, Jazz finally felt comfortable enough to sing again.

“Shizuka ni sora ni kaeru anata no sugata wo…. Namida ga kareru made zutto mitsumeteita… afureru kanashimi wa kesenai kizuato ni….. wasure wa shinai to chikatta… oreta tsubasa wo habatakase subete wo keshite miseyou….itsu no hi ka owari wo mukaeru saigo no kane ga nari yamu made…” it was really one of the only songs that Jazz could remember the lyrics properly off the top of her head. One of her favorite songs actually. The first Japanese song she’d ever learned to sing completely…. Jazz closed her eyes and hummed the guitar rift, sinking in the warm water a little more so that it covered over her mouth.

“Ummmmaaaaa.”

Brown eyes snapped open, and bubbles littered the water’s surface as Jazz let out a silent scream, sitting upright in the tub, the griffin medallion shaking from its place on her neck. She stared at the cursed man standing next to the bathtub for a few moments in shock, trying to calm her racing heart. And then she groaned and slid into the water again, eyes still focused on Uma. It was then that Jazz noticed the food splattered all over Uma, and she scrunched her face at his filthy appearance.

In her head, Jazz rationalized that as a jester for the Baron, it wasn’t surprising that they threw food at the cursed Aen Elle sage. And yet… Jazz narrowed her eyes at Uma, who hadn’t stopped staring at her, his eyes holding the intelligence that he had as Avallac’h before briefly fading away… And suddenly, Jazz felt bad, terribly so, that Avallac’h, even when cursed with nearly everything distorted, could understand every single thing that happened to him. And Jazz visibly winced and shifted her eyes away, holding onto the trembling medallion, How horrible it must have been for a sage of the Aen Elle to be humiliated in such a way. All to help the ancestor of a woman he once loved. Because Eredin wanted to humiliate Avallac’h.

Inwardly berating herself, Jazz rose from the cover of the bathtub and slowly got out, skin growing goosebumps from the sudden cold. Turning towards Uma, and not really caring that the sage was seeing her naked, Jazz held a hand out and whispered lowly, “Come, Crevan, we’ll get you cleaned up.”

Yet Uma gave no indication of recognizing Jazz’s use of his real name, bumbling along and following Jazz’s motions purely by blind instinct. And Jazz could only sigh in disappointment, wanting some way to communicate with Avallac’h. Shaking her head, she brought it upon herself to clean the cursed Aen Elle, humming to herself softly. “If I told you this was only gonna hurt… If I warned you that the fire’s gonna burn… Would you walk in?... Would let me do it first?... Do it all in the name of love…”

[Twenty minutes later]

After cleaning Uma, and getting both him and herself dressed, Jazz gently took Uma’s hand and led him out of the bathroom, not having as much trouble as most people would… what with Jazz being a mere five feet tall. “Come, I know you don’t eat much, but you should attempt to eat something with me.”

As Jazz dragged the cursed elf along with her, she received various odd looks from the servants. Whether it be from her strange attire, the fact that she was walking around barefoot, or that her companion was a proper abomination. And quite honestly, Jazz didn’t care for the opinions of others. Besides, this was the closest to getting home that Jazz has been in more than a week.

It still didn’t stop Todd and Gav from screaming profanities when she walked back into her room with Uma though…

“WOT ARE YOU DOIN?”

“JAZZ! YOU CAN’T KIDNAP BEASTLY MIDGETS!”

“But he’s my friend!” Jazz chirped, kneeling down and throwing her arms around Uma in a hug that the cursed being surprisingly accepted.

Todd smacked a hand to his face and groaned. “Gav was already a handful, now I have to deal with you?”

“You know you love us!” Gav and Jazz chimed in with shit-eating grins on their face.

“UMMAAAA!” to Todd’s annoyance the cursed Aen Elle seemed to shriek his answer as well.

#the witcher 3 #the witcher imagines #the witcher #wiedźmin #shianhygge #shian imagines

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maggieisalarrie · 7 years

Text

Titles: W

walk my days on a wire by sunshiner (39k)

Harry hums, staring at his hands in his lap, and Louis can still feel their smoothness, how solid they were in between his own. “Do you think it’s the same for us? Are we here only because of the likeliness of our jobs? Of our lives?” “We’re here because we have inventive managers,” Louis says, giving Harry’s leg a little nudge with his knee, but all that’s going around in his head is, I think I'd be in the same spot in every possible universe.

or, when actor Louis Tomlinson used to daydream about dating Harry Styles, this is not what he had in mind.

Want You More Than A by TheCellarDoor (78k)

Falling in love with your step-brother’s best friend is a disaster enough. When he happens to be the boy everyone loves and you’re a nerd who wears sweater vests and cries during rom-coms, it takes it to a whole new level.

we are honey and the bee by soleilouis (41k)

It isn’t his fault though, it is entirely the fault of whichever gods thought it would be a good idea to taunt Louis by dangling a curly haired boy in front of him with a mouth that can’t possibly be as soft as it looks, a mouth that requires further inspection with Louis’ own mouth. Unfortunately, Louis absolutely cannot do that, because it would go against all rules and guidelines in the Golden Handbook of Nanny and Employee Etiquette that he’s pretty sure exists.

au where harry plays rugby at uni, louis needs to hire a nanny, and life is one big cliche.

we can get there (we can do it if we try) by zouisclimax (28k)

He’s a bit shocked when he sees the person in front of him. Because, it’s a man? Which, yeah, he guesses that really isn’t that weird, but. Just, what? Of all the nannies Louis has ever met he has never once encountered a male. And really, of all the males he has encountered, he has never encountered one so pretty. Okay, there’s Zayn, but, he doesn’t count.

[or, the one where Louis's a dad in desperate need for a new nanny. Harry's perfect for the job]

we can take the long way home by eleadore (27k)

“Fertile,” Louis says, and then laughs because it sounds stupid to say out loud. He hasn’t ever really thought of himself in those terms. Baby-making terms. It’s just one of those things his body can do, like exercise, or go without tea. Doesn’t mean he will.

or,

The band takes a break. Harry and Louis come together.

we fool ourselves so much we could do it for a living by veterization (24k)

Louis has been King of Pranks in his dorm for two years, and a random freshman named Harry Styles isn't going to take that title from him. It is on.

We Made These Memories for Ourselves by supernope (17k)

Breath held, Harry squints his eyes open and focuses on the first stick. A blue line. Harry breathes out an unsteady breath. He’s pretty sure he read that one blue line is a negative, but he fishes the box from the bottom of the pile just to make sure.

“Negative,” he confirms, voice echoing around the small room. “Next.”

Now that he’s feeling a little less shaky, he scans the rest of the tests at once, is met with a headache-inducing mixture of pink plus signs and blue double lines. His heart rate picks up until it’s pounding triple-time in the base of his throat and the pit of his stomach, thundering in his ears and throbbing in his temples. He flips over the rest of the boxes slowly, but he knows what they’re going to say before he even looks.

[or, Louis is a footballer, Harry owns a bakery, and they're having a baby.]

we were just like glue by togetherwecouldbealright (24k)

Louis works in a library where his own books sit on the shelves. Also, there may or may not be a Harry Styles involved and he may or may not be Louis' muse. Not that Louis is admitting to anything.

Wear It Like A Crown by zarah5 (141k)

AU. As part of a team of fixers hired to handle a gay scandal in Buckingham Palace, Louis expects Prince Harry to be a lot of things—most notably a royally spoilt brat. Never mind that the very same Prince Harry used to star in quite a number of Louis' teenage fantasies.

we can meet again somewhere by LSFOREVER (9k)

“I don't even know who he is, Niall! I just want to know his name or some - ”

“So why do you keep fucking blushing while talking about him!”

“You know what, fuck off! I'm gonna find him myself!”

or, The morning after his party Harry wakes up naked on his bed, and there is a Polaroid photo of a stranger right beside him. Harry wants to know who is this tiny little boy that has soft fringe and a smile from heaven. He has endless hope.

we were just like glue by togetherwecouldbealright (24k)

Louis works in a library where his own books sit on the shelves. Also, there may or may not be a Harry Styles involved and he may or may not be Louis' muse. Not that Louis is admitting to anything.

We Will Find Our Way by supernope (10k)

Harry smiles at Louis, quick and easy, and says, “Well, since we’re in the same boat, we’ll just make our own Christmas. What do you say?” Louis tamps down on a bloom of warmth in his belly. He barely knows Harry past seeing him walk down the hall in just his skivvies - not that he’s complaining - but he’s being so lovely, smiling at him so hopefully, and, well. Louis doesn’t much fancy the idea of spending Christmas completely alone. Nodding, he reaches out and pokes Harry’s dimple, watches it flirt to life underneath his fingertip. “I say yes.”

AKA, Harry and Louis are uni students studying abroad in New York, stuck in the dorms together over Christmas.

We’ll Be Seamless by waytoomanypeopleintheaddisonlee (dinosaursmate) (52k)

Green reblogged an old photo of himself. It was from back in October, a Halloween special. A pulse shot all the way through Louis because this photo was his absolute favourite, and it had taken the rest of the year for him to wean himself off of it.

Green was on his knees, arms stretched out in front of him with his fingertips digging into the surface of his bed. He was wearing a pair of cat ears on his head, his curls falling forward. His back was arched, and in the foreground of the picture, Green’s bum was high in the air, a long, black cat tail sitting neatly between his cheeks. --- Louis spends all his spare time scrolling arty nude blogs on Tumblr but amongst them all, Green is his favourite.

With a whimper by kitundercover (133k)

The man grips his arm tightly. “You’re not going to say anything.” It’s not a question.

Louis shakes his head, his body twitching.

“Fine,” large green eyes survey him before letting go. “It’s cold. Take this. Wear it.”

Louis can’t help another flinch as the man’s long scarf is wrapped around his tender neck, it’s still warm. He touches the soft material. “Thank you.”

The man bears his teeth. “Don’t thank me. Don’t ever thank me.”

Dystopian AU. Louis has been alone for too long to remember how not to be, and Harry has too much to worry about to deal with a scrawny, wild, stranger.

With love comes strange currencies by mediaville (17k)

One day One Direction will be over and Louis won't be around Harry every waking moment. He'll be able to finally get some space, let their bond dissipate as it's bound to do, if they don't mess up again. He can move to Costa Rica and forget that Harry Styles popped his first knot inside him. Until then, he's going to have to deal with this.

or, They're Accidentally Mated and Dealing With It Rather Badly.

with nothing but your t-shirt on by crybaby (35k)

Louis knows that I’ve seen you fuck yourself with a vibrator should not be the first thing that comes to mind when he meets Harry Styles.

(Harry is a camboy and Louis has been an avid subscriber for a while before he finds out they attend the same university)

wrapped in light, in life, in love by tomorrows (19k)

It should be embarrassing — it is a bit embarrassing, actually, because he can feel Lila watching over him like a hawk, but Louis’ got a palm on his thigh and there’s a cherry red lollipop in his hand and Harry feels so bloody dizzy with butterflies. He brings the lollipop to his mouth and sure enough, the sweet cherry flavor feels more therapeutic than anything, like it’s made from warm hugs and naps by the fireplace. He’s too busy falling in love all over again to be embarrassed.

“S’good, innit?”

Harry nods his head. He feels like a child, but it’s okay because Louis is there and he’s staring right at him, blue eyes consumed by Harry before him. Being at the center of Louis’ attention is just as overwhelming as Harry remembers it being fifteen years ago.

Of all the things to happen while taking care of his niece for a month, falling in love with his boyhood crush all over again is probably the highlight of Harry’s autumn.

Well. That, and getting pregnant.

Please let me know if I can add anything!

Last edited: September 6, 2017

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