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domnamewoman · 6 months

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You know I've always wonder if the characters meet with a teen reader (platonic relationship) who can control elements. They found her by accident and saw her like catching fish using her water bending.

(sorry if I disturbing you. Please do tell me anything if I broke a rule or something because I'm trying my best to find your rule book)

PS love your Mortal Kombat :3

Title: Little Elements

Summary: You are a teen Elemental who is just trying to survive and find your mom after a mysterious sorcerer abducts her and banishes you to Earthrealm. One day while you are trying to catch dinner, you are ambushed by random men who believe you are the one terrorizing Earthrealm.

Warnings: Teen!GN!Reader, Canon-Typical Violence

Word Count: 1,479

Masterlist

Requests Are Open

What are you going to do? You can survive on your own, sure, but for how long? Who can you even ask for help? You don’t know anyone in this realm and from what you’ve been told, most Earthrealmers don’t even know about Outworld and its inhabitants. How can they help you find your way back, let alone your mom?

Your mom… right.

That bastard! As soon as you find him, he’s dead! You’ll make him pay for what he did to you and your mother. You’ll make him regret underestimating you and reducing your mother to nothing more than a puppet. When you find him you’ll… you’ll…

How will you find him though? You don’t even know his name. Thanks to him you are stranded in Earthrealm. You let out a frustrated sigh. You aren’t powerful enough to open a portable to get back to Outworld. Is there anyone here who is? How can you find them?

You angrily kick a rock and watch it tumble into the river in front of you as a wave of helplessness washes over you. You shake your head to clear it and take a calming breath. You’re no good to your mom if you’re frazzled and drained.

You’ll figure out a plan later, for now, you’ll focus on getting something to eat so you don’t starve to death before you can.

You stand at the bank of the river and let the sounds of nature calm you. The rushing of water downstream. The chirping of the birds’ morning song. The rustling of the wind passing through leaves. It’s almost enough to fool you into believing you are out for a recreational trek through the woods and not stranded all alone.

Raising your hands, you search for the ball of energy stored at the center of your chest and feel it unravel. It begins to spread across your chest, down your arms, and rest in your palms. You move your hands from left to right and watch as the river’s water swirls up into the air.

You parse through the water using your water bending to search for fish and wash them ashore. You are able to find three smallmouth basses and decide they are enough sustenance for today. You bend down to collect them when you feel the air suddenly become charged around you.

Whipping around, your eyes land on four men standing at the tree line. One of them shoots out his hand and a bolt of lightning comes flying toward you. You narrowly manage to dive out of the way and the bolt zaps the spot you were just in.

You feel heat erupt from your chest and plunge down your arms as flames engulf your hands.

“Who are you!?” You question as you take a defensive stance.

“Earthrealm’s Protectors.” The one wearing a razor-rimmed hat declares.

Before you have a chance to process this, another bolt of lightning is making its way to you. Unfortunately, this time you are unable to move out of the way fast enough and fall to the ground as your body shakes in pain.

After the shock subsides, you roll onto your hands and knees. Your breath is nothing but gasps as you try to get air into your lungs. How dare these people attack you unprovoked! Earthrealm’s Protectors? You aren’t doing anything harmful! All you are trying to do is get something to eat. What is their deal? It doesn't matter, you will return the favor of attacking first and asking questions later.

Resting both palms flat against the ground, you force energy through them and the ground begins to violently shake. The men are thrown off balance and it is just the distraction you need to execute an attack.

Throwing your hands out in quick succession, you send several fireballs hurling toward them. You watch as the four men jump around in an effort to dodge the onslaught.

“Now that wasn’t very nice, Hotshot.” One of them says while removing his sunglasses.

Your eyes roll as you scoff. “You’re one to talk. I can still feel the aftershocks from Sir Zaps-a-lot over there.”

“Sir Zaps-a-lot?” Asks the one wearing a… blindfold? Strange.

“Yes! He electrocuted me for no reason!”

“You appear to be no older than 14. Why are you here terrorizing Earthrealm?” Sir Zaps-a-lot asks.

You let out an exasperated sigh. “I’m 15, thank you very much. Also, how is fishing terrorizing anyone!? I was just trying to get something to eat and you attacked me completely unprovoked!”

“Unprovoked? You have been going around causing earthquakes, fires, floods, and tornados in highly populated areas. You have killed innocent Earthrealmers and destroyed many people’s homes and livelihoods! Yet you claim you are innocent?” Razorhead bellows.

“How… I-I can’t do that!”

“Um… listen, Hotshot. We just watched you fish without a fishing rod. Not to mention the fireballs and mini earthquake you used on us. You definitely can do that.” Explains Sunglasses.

“Exactly! Mini earthquake. I can’t make one powerful enough to destroy people’s homes like you’ve said.”

The men stare at you and from their expressions you can tell they don’t believe you.

“Seriously, it wasn’t me!”

“There are not too many others who possess powers like you here.” Mr. See-no-evil states.

How are your powers uncommon? Stupid powerless Earthrealmers!

“Whatever, that still doesn’t change the fact that I’m not strong enough to create earthquakes, floods, or tornados on a scale large enough to destroy homes. I’m still in training!”

“Training by who?” Sir Zaps-a-lot inquires.

“By my mo-”

Why didn’t you think of this sooner? You know someone who is powerful enough to cause damage on a scale these men speak of. Someone who is currently under the hypnosis of a deranged sorcerer. You have to find her!

“Where did these attacks take place?” You ask as you take a step forward.

“Wait a minute Hotshot, who is your trainer?”

“My mother.” You began to pace. “About a week ago, some crazy sorcerer came to our house. I-I think my mom knew him? I had seen him talking to her before. Anyway, the day he showed up at our house he was acting all crazy. T-Then he did some weird magic hypno stuff and put my mom under some sort of spell. She would only listen to him no matter what I did. She was basically his puppet. He opened a portal and forced me to Earthrealm so I wouldn’t get in the way of his plans. I bet he’s using her to do all of the stuff you said. That bastard!”

“Okay, okay, calm down. You said your mother was taken by the sorcerer?” Mr. See-no-evil walks forward, stopping a few feet away from you.

“Yes! I know you have a blindfold on, but do you also have earplugs?”

“There is no need to get testy.”

“Can it, Razorhead!”

“Pfft… Razorhead.” Sunglasses chuckles under his breath.

“My name is Kung Lao, and that is not the attitude one should have when asking for help.”

“Asking for help? Who needs your help?”

“You do. How do you intend to find your mother? Are you going to take on the sorcerer by yourself? My name is Raiden, by the way.”

Dang it, they’re right!

“Fine, I’m sorry. You’re right, there’s no way I can beat him by myself. What am I going to do?” You drop your head in defeat.

Sunglasses walks up to you and throws his arm around your shoulder. “Don’t worry your pretty little head. We won’t leave you to face him all alone. We fight for the weak. That’s what Earthrealm’s Protectors are all about.”

“I’m not weak,” You grumble, resisting the urge to elbow him in the side.

“What he means is, we will help you find your mom and take down this insidious sorcerer.” Kung Lao promises.

“We will take you to Wu Shi and inform our leader Liu Kang of your situation,” Raiden adds.

“But we don’t have time for that. We have to find my mom.” You are starting to get impatient now that you know there is a possibility your mother is here in Earthrealm.

“We will, but we need to make a plan. Plus you have been out here in the woods by yourself for a while. You look like you could use some rest… and some food.” Mr. See-no-evil pointedly nods toward the three fish on the ground you caught earlier.

Just then your stomach decides to remind you just how empty it is.

“Alright, I guess.” You begrudgingly agree.

Wait a minute.

“How do you know there are fish on the ground, aren’t you blindfolded!?”

Everyone starts laughing and you feel as though you’ve been left out of some inside joke.

Mr. See-no-evil starts walking backward toward the tree line. “Come on, I will tell you on the way.”

Should this be a series? Also, we aren't even going to talk about the nicknames... I tried 🤷🏾‍♀️

#domnamewoman #mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #Raiden #Johnny Cage #Kung Lao #Kenshi Takahashi #teen!reader #imagine #mk1 imagine #elemental #elemental!reader #elements #mk1 #mk

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jacksonlywife · 6 months

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Tw: Blood Description, Mention of dissection

A Jujutsu Kaisen Trio Seeing their S/O Hurt

(GN!Reader)

Gojo Satoru:

Gojo is one to tease and make fun of others for the fun of it. Not in an overly aggressive way just teasing friends most of the time. He adores his friends but what he also adores is his partner. Gojo is known for his strength so the people who got you all bruised up clearly weren't thinking. You just beat up one of the strongest Jujutsu sorcerers' partners? You must have a death wish.

As soon as you come back from a fight you hug your body clearly feeling helpless as the blood on you slid down your parts. You wanted to keep it a secret so you tried to cover up but to your disadvantage Gojo slams through the doors, his face going dull.

“Who did this to you?” He says with a quiet tone, fists clenched. Moments pass and you got worried. Gojo usually was one to be hyper and all smiley.

“Oh. Some people just dragged me somewhere and beat me. That's all.” You say murmuring averting your eyes. Gojos eyes softened.

Why were you acting as if this wasn’t a big deal?

He was in the fit of rage dusted with concern.

“I’ll find those guys.” He says biting his bottom lip enough to draw blood. Before you can reply he’s vanished into thin air. Your heart beat increased as you felt happy about how worried he was for you.

The men who harassed you were never to be seen again.

Geto Suguru:

Unlike Gojo, Geto is more the calm and collected type. Sure he’s one to get mad at certain times but he is mature about it unlike his best friend. Just because he’s kind doesn’t mean he has no enemies. He is mischievous. He loves you dearly and would do anything for you.

Even if it meant harming himself.

You sigh and touch the scars on your arms bleeding heavily from the fight earlier. A wince of pain slipped out your lips as you tried to keep a neutral expression before you met up with your sweet Geto. A jacket slipped on to cover the wounds and you walked up to him. Geto immediately realized something was wrong. You were fidgeting, averting your eyes, and expressions of pain slipped up on your face at times.

“What's wrong darling?” Geto said, grasping your hands worriedly. He looked around making sure everything was okay.

“Nothing.” You lied and pulled your sleeves lower so he couldn't see the marks. Though Geto caught on and grabbed your wrist softly and pulled the sleeve up to just be exposed to those severe scars. His face paled and eyes dilated. You were about to apologize till he began patching you up. A warm fuzzy feeling erupted in your body as you felt him do that.

“I’ll kill them after.” Geto said, bandaging you gently.

PEOPLE GONE MISSING - CALL 911 IF YOU SEE THEM

Shoko Ieiri:

Shoko is a laid back individual to be exact. She's more of a spectator than the person playing. Her reputation as a doctor exceeds her. Many people are scared of what kind of doctor she is because the last rumor went that she dissected dead bodies. Well that wasn’t a rumor.

Some people fear her but not enough because it seems someone has touched her beloved.

Blood oozed down your legs as you shivered in pain. It hurt like hell but you had to suck it up since you were meeting Shoko a little later for a hangout. As you left the alley where the fight happened a bag dropped that you heard and you turned your head.

It was Shoko. Great. You gave a sheepish smile as she stared with her eyes widened and mouth dropped.

“What happened to you?” She said holding your face caressing it as softly as possible.

“Just a fight. It ain’t that bad.” You shrugged, lying and turning your gaze so you don't feel that wash of guilt. That failed since you still felt it. Shoko yanks your ear making you yelp.

“Hey! What's this about?” You say flustered.

“I'm patching you up. Then I’m going to find those idiots who did this to you.”

+3 Bodies Achievement for Shoko!

#shoko ieiri #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #angst #jjk geto #geto x reader #shoko x reader #shoko x you #romance

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dramioneasks · 7 months

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HP FESTS: Dramione Month (Part 1)

Dramione Month 2023:

Forced Alliances by writes_and_wrongs - E, WIP - “You no longer belong to a house,” Lupin said. “You belong to your quad. You and your three counterparts will become reliant and dependent on each other. Your success is their success. But your failures will also mean their failures.” Hermione tensed as Ginny squeezed her hand. “You will earn points for your quad. Quad points eventually result in special privileges. This will mean balls, Hogsmeade, trips to Diagon Alley, and trips home on long weekends and holidays,” Snape said. “Without points, you don’t leave.” Hermione’s eyes widened. They’d keep them from going home on breaks? Could they do that? “You can earn points just like you used to,” Lupin said. “Academic achievement, cooperation, and selflessness. You cannot lose points, though.” Hermione watched as the tense room seemed to exhale. “Points earned cannot be removed,” Lupin continued. “It will be your quad’s responsibility to devise a punishment fitting of the crime,” Snape announced.

The Serpent's Den by ourswordsmeandeath - M, one-shot - Harry’s body drops in a heap on the shattered cobblestone. There is a distinct crack as his head collides with a large slab. Hermione doesn’t so much as flinch at the sound. She leans against the ruins of the castle wall, numb. Laughter bubbles from the Death Eaters that loiter about. Some cheer. ... Escape is futile.

Hold Onto Me by JessicaLovejoyAO3 - E, 6 chapters - Hermione Granger, an intelligence analyst working in the Muggle Australian Department of Defence, is tapped to help the Department of Magical Law Enforcement capture serial killer and Dark Wizard, Antonin Dolohov who is torturing and killing Muggleborns, After years away from the UK Magical society, she comes face-to-face with a War that she thought she left behind and Auror Draco Malfoy, who seems to know more about her secret designation than she does.

I Would've Walked Through Hell by Midnight_shooting_Star - E, WIP - She had put her hair back up in a bun and placed a metal clip to keep it in place. She wore a light grey pullover sweater and blue jeans. When she turned into the kitchen carrying her books she stopped dead in her tracks, her books slipping from her grasp. Malfoy turned to face her as he stood near the kitchen window drinking coffee from a white teacup. He wore dark black slacks and a white button-down shirt with a green tie. "I think you dropped something Granger." He smirked as he walked towards the sink to wash out his cup. She leaned down and gathered her books back into her arms. How could they place him with her? If Ron and Harry knew they would freak. She watched him closely, a little unsure. "You chose to come back?" "Hmm?" Malfoy focused on the cup he was washing. "Yes, just like you did, I have classes I want to finish so I can get a certain position in the Ministry." She lifted her left brow. Would they seriously let him work for the Ministry? After everything he had done during the war. What his family did during the war. She pulled on her sleeve that held the scar his left had burned into her flesh. "I guess everyone deserves another chance." She spoke softly.

Dramione Month Ficlets by belladeexx - T, 8 chapters - A short collection of other prompts I fulfilled for Dramione Month 2023. Prompts included: Head Boy/Girl, Class Partners, Professors, Prefects Bath, Firsts, Birthday, Beauxbatons/Durmstrang AU, College/Uni AU Each chapter is titled based on the prompt for the day it coincides with. Tags will be stated at the start of each chapter.

Share My Throne by belladeexx - M, one-shot - "Share my throne." She thinks he's joking. He must be. He's gone mad. He swallows, and Hermione's eyes drop to follow the ripple down his throat. She watches as a tiny droplet of blood moves with him. His hips tilt upward, bringing her eyes back to his. "Is that a proposal?" "Is that a yes?" A wisp of a smirk makes its way back to his face.

Draco Malfoy and the Timeline-Turner by anxiousm3ss - T, one-shot - "He was going to fix the Time-Turner, he decided. He was going to fix everything. It was his only chance." Or the one where Draco is so eager to change the past that he rips apart the fabric of reality.

Crookshanks, Pawns, and the Perfect Snog by violently_verbose - E, WIP - Advertising himself as the purveyor of the perfect snog, Malfoy lures in the anxious and inexperienced with the promise of teaching them his technique—but only for a price. An outrageously exorbitant fee that Hermione has decided to pay.

Assumptions and Misconceptions by art_emissss - T, one-shot - Malfoy, undeterred by her icy disposition, took a couple of steps closer. "Can't I inquire about the well-being of my former classmate? It has been a long time since we last saw each other." "As if you missed me." "And what if I did?" Or: the one where they are Headmasters of competing schools.

The Idiots Guide to Traveling Time by Biirdiee_Rose - E, one-shot - “Alright, you win. Cast the containment charm so we can put it under the glass.” Draco says, quickly relenting from his previous petty argument, no longer feeling playful in the slightest. Granger just stands blinking, quiet in a way she never is that starts to set off alarm bells in his head. “Granger?” He asks. “Malfoy…we’re not in the department anymore.” - Curse-breakers Draco and Hermione accidently set off their time-turner assignment and get hurdled into the not so distant future. Imagine their surprise to find that they're married with children. It's only twenty four hours...surely nothing too crazy will happen. Right?

An Exchange of Pretty Faces by MarinaJune - T, one-shot - What would happen if Hermione had a magical ancestor who enrolled her in Durmstrang, alongside Viktor Krum? How might her first meeting with Beauxbatons' exchange student, Draco Malfoy, go differently this time around?

#dramione month #fests/exchanges/challenges

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heliads · 5 months

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everything is blue • conrisa space au • Chapter Eleven: I Still Miss You Most of All

Risa Ward escaped a shuttle destined for her certain, painful death. Connor Lassiter ran away from home before it was too late. Lev Calder was kidnapped. All of them were supposed to be dissected for parts, used to advance a declining galaxy, but as of right now, all of them are whole. Life will not stay the same way forever.

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Connor Lassiter should not be alive.

He is aware of this before he even opens his eyes, before he even wakes up at all. The knowledge is lurking somewhere in his mind without Connor being able to vocalize why it’s true. He doesn’t remember the explosion, not at first. That comes later, with the realization that he will never be wholly Connor again.

Other than the yawning maw of the terrible truth that he should have died many standard hours ago, Connor wakes to dead silence punctuated occasionally with the expensive sort of beeping only heard in nice medical zones. There’s a certain clarity to the mechanical chatter that you don’t get in haphazardly patched together med bays like the ones on the Graveyard. Connor can’t describe it with words, but he’d know it when he hears it, and he knows it now. There’s something to the fact that nothing whines or groans with exhaustion, maybe, like everything is new and actually works the way it’s supposed to. When you’re used to listening to your world collapse around you, anything that’s properly functional stands out like a sore thumb.

Connor wakes up, dreamy and relaxed. He is calm for once in his life. A voice in the back of his head tells him that isn’t right, but he shuts it out for now. Connor has been stressed for years. Can’t he have one moment to himself?

Already, though, the peace is draining away from him, collecting in puddles on this perfectly polished floor and slipping through invisible holes between the tiles. There is no grime in this room. Everything is bright and clean, and the linens covering his body are pristine white. Connor hasn’t seen something that’s actually pure white in months. Everything in the Graveyard accumulates dust and rust so quickly that it’s no use trying. It doesn’t matter how many times you wash your clothes, they’ll wear out soon enough anyway. Might as well save the effort for something that matters, like not dying.

The Graveyard. For some reason, the name of the place strikes an odd chord somewhere in Connor’s mind. He should be there now, shouldn’t he? He wasn’t supposed to leave it for a while, at least another year, but now he’s in this chamber of expensive lighting and legitimate medical equipment, so obviously something’s gone wrong there. This could be Death, but Connor doubts he’d have to deal with medical infrastructure after his heart ceased to beat.

He has the brief, horrible thought that maybe he’s been unwound and this is just some part of his brain waking up in another kid’s head, but then a nurse in crisp scrubs walks through the door and greets him with a resounding, “Good to see you awake, Connor,” so maybe he’s still himself after all.

Connor squints at her. “What’s going on?”

The nurse smiles placidly. “You’ve just woken up, of course. We’ll need to run a few tests, but after that you should be cleared to go.”

Connor frowns. “Go where?”

Her smile doesn’t waver for a second, even despite Connor’s outpouring of questions. “To meet our boss, of course. He’s been waiting for a while, but of course you can’t be blamed for your tardiness. Truthfully, we weren’t even sure if you were going to wake up at all.”

Somewhere between his ribs, Connor’s heart begins to hammer. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I wake up? Who are you?”

“Connor,” the nurse says sweetly, laying a hand on his shoulder in a gesture that’s probably meant to be comforting but comes across more like a prison warden keeping her inmate in line, “You survived an explosion that decimated an entire star cruiser. No one would blame you for succumbing to the blast.”

As she says it, the memories come back in a rush. It’s not like he’d been suffering from amnesia, more like he’d been willfully trying not to think about all of the horrors he’d just experienced. Images flash through his mind in one fatal string: the Juveys, boarding the ship, the screaming of the Deadmen as they were dragged off to their fates, Risa, climbing into an escape pod, Connor’s own pod destroyed in a shrieking of metal come undone. Roland, chasing him down. The fight in the engine room and the resulting inferno.

Nothing makes sense after the explosion. Connor remembers Roland yelling in surprise, the sudden upheaval as the ground beneath his feet was shot away, and then falling, falling without respite. For what could either have been half a second or perhaps an eon, Connor’s mind had been a mess of confusion, like he was hearing not just his own panicked thoughts but Roland’s terrified inner monologue as well, but then everything had sorted out and Connor was just Connor, unconscious in the burning wreck of the Graveyard, utterly alone and waiting to die.

Except he hadn’t died and he had woken up here. Connor doesn’t remember getting picked up, but he hadn’t remembered a lot after losing consciousness, which is often how unconsciousness works in the first place. Another thing that Connor doesn’t remember is what happened to Risa, and that troubles him even more than whatever happened to him. What if her pod was engulfed in the blast? What if she’d come that close to getting out alive just for the Graveyard to pull her back into death?

Connor would never forgive himself. Although the explosion in the engine room wasn’t necessarily his fault– he distinctly remembers yelling at Roland to stop shooting wildly, after all– but he was still there, and that puts enough blood on his hands to paint everything in red.

Connor needs to see her. It’s an urge akin to dying of thirst, he craves the sight of her more than anything else. If he dies here and now, at least he could see her one more time before he goes. He misses her like a chopped off limb. If this is where their stories diverge, Connor thinks he will nurse this wound until he can do nothing else. He’ll lose his mind gnawing at the stump of where there was once something bright and beautiful, a girl who knew him better than anyone else and still wanted him at the end of the worlds.

Maybe she’s here. Maybe this is where they put all the victims of the explosion. “Where is she?” Connor asks, voice thick and dry.

The nurse cocks her head to the side. “Where is who?”

Connor opens his mouth to answer, but it occurs to him that, if these people aren’t one hundred percent on his side, he probably shouldn’t give them any more reasons to look for Risa, so he snaps his jaws shut again. It won’t matter anyway, they already knew Connor and Risa ran away together back at the start of it all. Even if they both die from this, their names will always be spoken together in the same breath, two halves of the same story. Connor likes that far more than he would care to admit. It only makes sense that she would be a part of him forever.

The nurse is still looking at him quizzically, so Connor starts talking again to distract her from his slip up. “So, I can leave after you declare me fit or something?”

The nurse shakes her head. “You’ll have to talk to the man in charge, of course.”

Connor nods impatiently, “Yes, but after that, I can go?”

The nurse laughs as if he’s told a funny joke, although Connor isn’t sure that he has. “Oh, no. You’re still to be distributed, of course. We’re not going to let one conversation get in the way of that.”

Connor immediately tenses up and starts to catalog all the ways he could get out of here. His body still feels a little tired, but that’s nothing. The door is at the far end of the white, shiny room, and although this nurse is between him and the exit, Connor is fairly certain he could knock her down if he needed to.

“You’re going to distribute me?” He asks, trying to buy time while he thinks of an escape plan.

“Why wouldn’t we?” The nurse queries, seemingly oblivious to the obvious answer. “Distribution benefits the galaxy, Connor. Surely you don’t think just one life is more important than all of us in the grand scheme of things. Besides, I thought you would have seen the importance of distribution by now, especially considering your arm.”

Connor’s frantic search of the room comes to an abrupt stop. “What do you mean, considering my arm?” He asks slowly.

The nurse gestures to his right arm, which up until now has been comfortably hidden beneath the pristine white linens. “It was replaced in the explosion. Funny how that works.”

Cautiously, carefully, as if expecting to see a monster instead of a limb, Connor reaches out his left arm to pull the sheets away from his right side. Immediately, he has to clap his good hand to his mouth to stifle a scream. There is still an arm attached to his right shoulder, yes, but it isn’t his. The skin is darker, the muscles stronger in unfamiliar places. And, most pressingly of all, there is the tattoo of a shark inked into the skin of the forearm that is not Connor’s. Which means, of course, that this is Roland’s arm on Connor’s body.

Connor presses himself back against the bed, trying to swallow back the wave of nausea that crests over him. He’s heard rumors of things like this happening, of course, freak accidents out in the farthest reaches of space that ended up with two people accidentally swapping parts, but he always assumed they were just ghost stories fabricated to scare students out of making hyperspace jumps without correctly calculating their trajectories. He never thought it would actually happen to him, nor that, of all the donors, he would end up with the arm of someone who wanted to kill him. Who tried to kill him, and was shooting at Connor until his very last breath.

As if thinking along the same lines, the fingers on Connor’s stolen right arm twitch a little, forming a fist before relaxing again. Connor does not remember ever commanding the digits to move, which means that some part of Roland is still in control. The doctors saw the arm swap, obviously, but how do they know for certain that Connor’s brain wasn’t affected? What if there are still bits and pieces of Roland left in Connor’s head, never to return to normal again? When Connor thinks of Risa, when he thinks of hurting someone, will it be his own choice or Roland somehow, poisoning his mind?

Fighting back bile, Connor asks the nurse, “Can you put it back? My arm, I mean. Can you give me back my arm?”

The nurse chuckles. “That would be incredibly difficult. The donor is in a, ah, precarious position right now. The explosion decimated his body so much that even we couldn’t use it. So no, you can’t have your arm back.”

Something in Connor feels a strange sense of sick joy that these people, whoever they are, wouldn’t be able to use the rest of Roland as distributed material. He may have died, but he got out without giving in, and that’s more than most ferals can say. Again, Connor isn’t wholly certain if the thought is his or Roland’s, but regardless of the source, he gets the feeling that they’re both in agreement over this.

While Connor is at war with himself, the nurse stands, checking a few readouts on a holopad before gesturing for him to stand. “You seem in fine condition, so we’ll take you to meet the boss. He’s right down the hall. I wouldn’t want to keep him waiting for long.”

Connor eyes her closely, but the woman gives nothing away. It’s probably smart to run now, but Connor is, admittedly, a little curious to see just who’s in charge around here. There are no logos anywhere, no clue as to where he is, so getting some answers would be nice.

The second the nurse escorts Connor out of the med room, he’s greeted with the sight of at least a dozen soldiers loitering in the hall outside. So much for trying to run away. Trying to instill a sense of false bravado into his voice, Connor asks casually, “All this security for me? Gee, I’m honored you think so much of me.”

The nearest soldier glares but says nothing. So much for getting a reaction. Committed to the cause now, Connor steps in front of him, grins, and says, “Nice socks, idiot.”

The soldier glances down at his boots, confused, thus breaking his cold demeanor for what he eventually realizes is just a little trick on Connor’s end. Connor flashes him a jaunty smirk, which makes the glare return to the soldier’s face in full force. One small victory is enough for Connor, though, and he heads down the hall to his fate with his spirits high.

The nurse leads him to a door, and knocks once before ushering him inside. The door shuts tight behind him, leaving Connor with no choice but to face the man waiting for him.

They stare at each other for a long moment. Something about the guy fills Connor with a sickly sort of dread, although for the life of him, he cannot explain why. He looks a little young for someone to be treated with this sort of respect, more like mid-thirties instead of in his fifties or sixties, but this, again, feels wrong.

As the man leans forward to get a better look at Connor, the harsh lighting overhead reveals details of his face that hadn’t been visible at first glance. Although great care has obviously been taken to ensure that each surgery was as smooth as possible, evidence of many new pieces of flesh still reveal themselves under the bright lights. The cheekbones are a little too high for his facial structure, his eyes are too bright for a man of this age, and his skin is impossibly tight and smooth. Connor has seen many rich parents with a lot of work done, but this guy beats them all out. Connor can’t imagine how many kids must have been put under the knife to keep this man looking fresh, but they probably could have filled the whole damn Graveyard.

“Who are you?” Connor hisses.

The man smiles. “Honestly, Connor, I was hoping you’d piece that together a little sooner. Here, I’ll give you a hint: you’re speaking to the head of the Proactive Citizenry.”

Alarm bells go off in Connor’s head. Of all the people to want Connor in pieces, the PC has got to be at the top of the list. They’ve hated Connor ever since he stole that Juvey-cop’s ship what feels like a lifetime ago. Hayden, Connor, and Risa have listened in to Centerworld radio frequencies on countless nights, laughing themselves senseless over the vitriol of the pro-distribution propaganda aimed at Connor. It’s not so funny anymore, though, when Connor is in the belly of the synth-beast with no friends left to protect him.

“So, you’re the CEO or something?” Connor asks. “Fascinating. Do you meet with all of the kids you’re about to distribute? Do you like to know our tragic backstories before you steal our parts?”

The man scoffs. “We’re not stealing, Connor, we’re taking what we’re owed. And no, I’m not the CEO. Try again.”

Connor squints at him. Maybe the guy’s older than he thought. “You’re the, uh, father of the CEO? Grandfather?”

The man rolls his eyes. “Don’t be silly, Connor. I am PC. I started it.”

Connor shakes his head. “No, that’s impossible. Proactive Citizenry is old-Earth ancient. It was made when humans first started exploring the galaxy. There’s no way even your great-grandparents could have started it.”

It’s unthinkable. Connor hasn’t brushed up on his history in a while, so he doesn’t remember the exact name of Proactive Citizenry’s creator, but it can’t be this guy. That was centuries ago. Whoever started this whole mess is long dead, their bones withered away to ash.

Unless.

Unless, of course, they found a way to stay around. Maybe the creator’s original bones are ash, but who’s to say that they couldn’t just swap them out, piece by piece? Donor by donor? Distribute by distribute?

Connor draws in a sharp, horrified breath, and the man nods, looking pleased. “You get it now, don’t you? I can see it in your eyes. I always liked the eyes, I must say. That was the part I hated getting rid of the most. I held onto my original pair for as long as I could, but they gave out in the end. Everything does. No matter what anyone tries, Connor Lassiter, resistance will get you nowhere. Even if you’re the Akron AWOL.”

Connor feels like he might throw up. “You’re the one who created the PC? You must be centuries old. There’s no way you could have kept swapping out dead body parts that long, you’d have to give out at some point.”

“Maybe if you didn’t have the money for it,” the man muses, “But that has never been a problem for me. The Heartlands have always been blessed with wealth. Any problem can be solved if you just give people a good enough reason to solve it. Money often does the trick.”

The Heartlands. That does it. Mental gears click into place, and Connor remembers the guy’s name at last. “You’re Dorian Heartland. The original supporter of distribution.”

Heartland spreads his hands indulgently, as if expecting applause. “There you go. See, maybe I’ll be able to turn a profit from your brain matter after all.”

Connor stares at him unthinkingly. “You want my brain?”

“I want all of you,” Heartland says soothingly. “That’s how distribution is meant to work, remember? No part wasted. I would love one of your eyes for myself, though. Mine are starting to get a little foggy, and I only take parts from the best characters. Having the irises of the Akron AWOL, now, that would be something. I am made of history, Connor Lassiter. Both the successes and the failures. It’s a reminder to all of my people that they can join me in two ways: under my empire, or under my knife.”

Connor’s stomach roils. “Those aren’t all just feral parts, then. You’ve had adults unwound.”

Heartland tsks. “Naughty word, Connor. Unwinding. We’ve made it a professional process, there’s no need to degrade it like that. But yes, you’re right. The parts still work, even when they’re not young. I am made of many men and women. Do you remember that cop whose ship you stole? I have one of his ears so I could hear you in a crowd and know it was you, just in case. There was a parts pirate once who thought he could outdo me, a man named Divan. I have a good chunk of his brain, now there was a man who could do business. Another pirate was a little too brutal for my tastes– the Burmese Dah Zey, I’m certain you’ve heard of him before. These are his hands. And then, a woman named Roberta Griswold– I told her to make cyborgs a thing, and she let me down. Now her lungs keep me breathing.”

Heartland takes a deep gulp of air, chest heaving with the passion of all the people he's dismembered. Connor wants to yell at him to shut up, but some horrified part of him is fascinated by all the names, all the sick ends, and he stays silent.

“Part of my heart belongs to a useless boy named Argent Skinner. You probably don’t remember Argent, actually. He was really obsessed with you, you know.” Heartland’s voice is wheedling, like a teenager teasing a friend about a schoolgirl crush. It sets Connor’s teeth on edge. “You didn’t even notice him. He worked at the boundary checkpoint where you slipped under the radar. He was going to track you down while you were passing through his little station and take you with him, but you managed to give him the slip. That made him so angry that he came to the PC. I took that anger and I made it glorious. I made it me.”

Connor’s right arm twitches at his side, the foreign fingers curling into a tight fist. He wants to slam it into Heartland’s nose, hear the bones crack and watch the blood gush forth. Connor’s been in fights back when he was still in school, and he’s definitely been angry before, but nothing like this. This rage consumes him, but it isn’t Connor’s. Judging by the way the arm with the shark tattoo keeps jerking forward like it has plans of its own, Connor would wager a guess that it’s Roland bursting forth again, wanting to make his vengeance known.

Heartland follows Connor’s line of vision and his lips curl into something almost akin to a smile. “See, Connor? I’m not the only one with borrowed pieces. You’re just like me.”

Connor shakes his head frantically. “I’m nothing like you. I didn’t want this. You did.”

Heartland tilts his head to the side, acknowledging this. “True, I did want it. I wanted it better than anyone else, too. Even when Centerworld started losing steam for distribution, I wanted it still. I had to step in a few times to convince them to keep it up, but they got there in the end.”

Connor feels like screaming. He kind of wants to, except he’s afraid that if he shouts too loudly Heartland will come to admire his vocal chords and decide to take those, too. He has a twisted mental image of Risa hearing his voice from the shadows and running towards it only for Heartland to emerge, smiling as coldly as her as he is at Connor right now.

“This has all been a lie, then. Everything about distribution being used to further the life of the galaxy. It was never about the galaxy, was it? It was only about protecting you. Your life.” Connor chokes out.

Heartland nods, extending his hands in a theatrical gesture. “I don’t care about the rest of them. Why should I? I made the distribution project work in the first place. They didn’t help, why should they reap the rewards? It’s about equal labor for equal pay, and they didn’t contribute one thing. Now they will. I mean, don’t you hate it when slackers get all the privileges that you had to fight for?”

Connor’s throat is tight. “Why are you telling me all of this? Why are you even talking to me at all? Does monologuing make you live longer, too?”

Heartland chuckles. “No, no. I just want you to understand. I hate to say it, Connor, but your little adventure has caught on across the galaxy. I want you to release a holo saying that you condone any attempts to avoid distribution, that you’ve learned your lesson and it’s better for everyone to follow the rules. Once you prove you’re with us, the little hero of the ferals will be forgotten, and no one else will be inspired by your misguided attempt to run. It’s as easy as that, boy. Five minutes of your time, that’s all I need.”

Connor’s brow furrows. “So you want me to go against literally everything I believe, and then what? You let me go?”

Heartland’s borrowed eyes dance with mirth. “No, no. You misunderstand me. This is not a deal we’re making, this is an order. You will make the speech, and then you will be distributed. I do not trust you to live in any world. I want all loose ends tied up, and that involves you.”

Connor’s stomach does a slow roll. “If you’re going to kill me anyway, why the sunfire would I help you? Usually, when someone wants something, they have to give a little first. Thought you’d know about that from all your high profile business bullshit.”

“Watch your mouth, Connor, or I’ll take your tongue first,” Heartland says chidingly. “This isn’t business. This is me extracting use from a useless bit of biological matter. I don’t need you alive. I don’t even need you to want to do this. I have ways of making you comply.”

Connor takes an involuntary step back. He tries the door behind him, but it’s locked; Connor didn’t even hear the pin slide into place. He must have been too distracted staring at the monstrosity before him.

Heartland smirks. “There’s nowhere to run, Connor. Nowhere to go. Your only option is me.”

The man sinks back into his chair, not even bothering to block Connor. And why should he? They’re high up in some kind of office building, several stories off the ground. There are no other doors except the locked one behind him. According to Heartland, there really is no way out.

Heartland, though, has had several centuries worth of comfortable, cozy life. Heartland has not had to risk himself in a very long time. Heartland has no idea the distance a feral would go to survive, because he has not had to fight tooth and nail for so much as one more day alive. Connor, however, has, and Connor will never go out like this. As long as there is any way out, Connor will take it. Even if that way out involves the window overlooking a drop at least five stories to the ground.

Connor launches himself towards the glass pane. Of all the ideas he’s had, this is probably the worst, but it’s that or get distributed, so no hurt feelings there. He grabs an office chair as he goes, slamming it through the window and breaking it instantly.

Heartland’s face goes waxy. “Lassiter, be serious. You cannot possibly–”

Connor silences him with a glare. “Never tell me what I can’t do. Don’t you know ferals never follow the rules?”

And with that terrible bit of drama, Connor throws himself from the window. He turns as he falls, catching hold of the narrow lip. He’s not strong enough to hold himself from this forever, but he doesn’t have to be. All he needs is to slow his fall bit by bit, piece by piece, by dropping from ledge to ledge until he’s on the ground. An awning stretching over a few windows catches him for a while, letting him roll to a stop before crawling to the next ledge, and so on and so forth until he’s halfway down the side of the building.

Victory practically within his grasp, Connor makes the incredibly stupid decision to look down, and immediately regrets it. The ground, although closer to him than when he’d first leapt out of the building, seems lightyears away. Connor’s feet loll perilously over the precipice, and he has to snap his eyes shut so he doesn’t lose it completely. It’s not about making it to the bottom. All he has to do is find the next window ledge. Connor reaches out with trembling fingers and it’s within his grasp, then he can awkwardly shuffle his body down and over. Then the next ledge, and the next. He can do this.

Eyes still shut, Connor stretches out a foot to find the next ledge, but his legs refuse to go any lower. Risking another glimpse down, Connor realizes that he’s actually on the ground. He shades his eyes with his hand, staring up at the building he’s just escaped. Heartland may have centuries of knowledge over Connor, but the man has no idea how to handle a mad runaway. Funny, except he’s definitely sending reinforcements to track down Connor right now, so he’s got to get a move on.

Right on cue, the doors to the building burst open and a swarm of soldiers flood out. Connor turns and runs into the city around him, not caring where he’s headed so long as it takes him away. He has absolutely no idea what planet he’s on, let alone what system, but that doesn’t matter. Connor always knows how to run, regardless of his exact position in the galaxy.

He takes an abrupt turn down some alleyways, hoping the tight quarters will shake at least a few of the soldiers as they scramble for position. Connor whips around corners left and right, but his mad dash comes to a sudden halt when he comes face to face with a dead end. Swearing under his breath, Connor doubles back, but the soldiers are bearing down on him and there’s nowhere to go. The walls are high and slick with something that’s hopefully just oil, so Connor can’t climb his way out of this one.

Well, he’s never backed down from a fight, has he? Connor swallows hard, glancing around for something he can use as a weapon. There’s no way he can fight off all of these soldiers, but maybe he can try, at least. There’s no way he’s going down without giving it his all.

Just before Connor can pick up an unwieldy piece of metal pipe and hope for the best, a door swings open to his left and a voice hisses at him, “Quick! In here!”

Connor has no other options, so he lunges for the door, which slams behind him just as the soldiers round the corner. Connor is immediately plunged into darkness, but he can just make out the snap of a lock into place.

A handheld light flicks on; harsh and fluorescent, probably an old industrial bulb. That design is common in outer territories, but Connor didn’t expect to find anything so cheaply made here. He hadn’t been able to get a good glimpse of the city due to the fact that he was running for his life, but the brief snippets of the cityscape he had caught seemed polished and very, very expensive.

The light doesn’t just reveal income, though, it also draws into focus several faces all clustered around Connor. They seem to be of various ages, but all are teenagers and, judging by the slightly haunted look in their eyes that Connor saw most fiercely in the Graveyard, all are kids running from distribution.

One of the younger boys stares unabashedly at Connor. “So, it’s true. You’re actually the Akron AWOL.”

An older girl with bright streaks of pink in her hair glares at the boy who had spoken. “Shut up, Emby. You promised you’d be cool about this.”

“I am,” Emby protests, “I’m just asking, that’s all. No need to get defensive, Mai.”

Connor chuckles in spite of himself. After hearing Heartland’s little sermon, he wasn’t entirely sure that he would ever be able to laugh again, but the easy banter broke through his defenses before he realized what was happening. Painfully, it also reminds him of the Graveyard, all the conversations he’ll never hear again.

“He’s fine,” Connor assures Mai. “And yes, I’m Connor. You’re, uh, Emby?”

“That’s what they call me,” the younger boy assures him with an audibly congested sniff. “Mai came up with the nickname. Short for mouth-breather. She said it’s right on the money.”

“You don’t have to directly quote me every single time,” Mai grumbles.

Connor smirks, then turns to the other teenagers still standing around him. “Who are the rest of you?”

“Diego,” another boy announces himself. His eyes flash, giving the impression of cleverness. Clever enough to not get involved in Mai and Emby’s squabbling, at least, which gives him some credit.

An older boy introduces himself as Vincent. The harsh light from the bulb shines off of countless piercings all over his face; Connor has no idea what piercing shop would have agreed to give a teenager that many studs, everyone knows that giving tattoos or piercings to AWOLs is just damaging the merchandise, but Connor himself is standing here with someone else’s ink, so maybe he shouldn’t be so quick to judge. Seeing as Vincent is idling rather close to Mai, Connor immediately suspects them of being together, and his theory is proven correct when their hands brush together in a move that’s probably not nearly as slick as they think it is.

Two more teenagers introduce themselves as Blaine and Bam, respectively. Both of them seem vaguely unapproachable, but that energy kind of extends to the whole group save Emby. It makes sense, though; if you want to survive on your own in the underbelly of a city like this, you’ve got to be able to cut off anyone at a moment’s notice. These kids are used to living off the skin of their teeth, although this doesn’t explain why they risked their necks to get Connor to safety.

Connor folds his arms across his chest. “Why am I here?”

Bam scoffs. “Would you like it better if we dumped you back out there for the soldiers to find you?”

Connor arches a brow. “If that’s your attitude, why did you save me in the first place? Suns, how’d you even know I was here?”

Blaine flashes Connor a sharp grin that’s about as warm as light reflecting off of a scalpel. “We keep close watch of everyone in this city. Dozens of Juvey-cops converged on one building out of nowhere. When the Juveys made that mass arrest on some unclaimed cruiser two days ago, we all waited for the news that Connor Lassiter had been caught, but it never came out. There’s no way they’d pass up a chance to brag about getting you at last, so we put two and two together and figured out you’d have to be here. We’ve been keeping an eye out in case you managed to run, but we didn’t think you’d be lucky enough to run right by us.”

“That’s a great coincidence for me, then,” Connor says, still not entirely believing it.

Diego snorts. “He left out the part where we hacked into the citywide security cams months ago. We tracked you the second you left and hurried over so we could catch you before it was too late. Coincidence is for cowards.”

This earns him an irate glare from Mai. “Feel free to spill any more of our secrets while you’re at it, Diego. I’m sure caution means nothing when it comes to the starloving Akron AWOL.”

Diego just chuckles, which Connor has to respect, because Mai looks like she wants to tear the boy to shreds. “He’s not going to trust us unless we give him a reason, obviously. Look at him. He’s already thinking about running.”

This is, admittedly, true. Like Connor thought at the start, then. Diego is the smart one. Well, if they’ve got access to every sec-cam in the city, maybe they’re all the smart ones. That would explain how they survive down here, certainly.

Connor does his best to look as casual as he can. “You want something from me, obviously, or you wouldn’t have bothered to save me. How about we cut to the chase and you tell me what that is?”

Bam shrugs. “We want you gone. Sooner you’re offworld, the better. We don’t want the Juveys nosing in on our operation. Plus, we’ve got friends at some of the distribution colonies. Figured you’d be inclined to at least pretend to help.”

Connor frowns. “What friends? Maybe I know them.”

Bam actually looks a little chagrined at this. “Well, I don’t know him personally. But, uh, we tuned in to his radio show. Thought it was great. He convinced us to try and rescue AWOLs if we found them. That’s how we got Emby and Vince. He’s a friend of yours, actually. We want you to save Hayden Upchurch.”

Connor feels his shoulders sag in relief. “Hayden’s alive?”

“For now,” Bam mumbles. “He’s in a colony somewhere, so time is ticking. It feels wrong that he should die when he’s done so much for us.”

Connor can’t help a wicked grin. “So you’re a fan, huh? I’ll have to tell Hayden that he’s got admirers across the systems.”

Bam slugs him in the shoulder, which, ow. “Shut up, Lassiter. Just do it.”

Connor rubs his aching arm. “Alright, alright. I’ve got no problems with that. Say, how do you know where he is? Have they been announcing where the kids from the Graveyard went?”

He tries to keep the obvious longing from his voice, but clearly he doesn’t do such a good job of it, because Emby pipes up loudly, “You’re looking for Risa Ward, aren’t you? Is she, like, your girlfriend?”

This immediately earns the younger boy swats on the head from Mai and Bam at the same time. “She’s not my girlfriend,” Connor hastens to say, which only makes him feel more like an idiot instead of less.

His cheeks heat up while he forces out the words, so he’s pretty sure that no one believes him at all. It’s not Connor’s fault if he got distracted by the idea. It seems nice, after all. Having Risa be his girlfriend. It would probably be cool. If, you know, Connor had any idea where she was, or if she was still whole.

Mai’s visibly smirking now. “Relax, she’s still alive. Actually, we caught a transmission yesterday that you’ll probably want to hear.”

Confused, Connor follows her to a corner of their little hideaway, where he’s presented with an absolute abomination of a radio unit. It’s been patched together from the wrecks of several old computing systems, practically a distribution project in its own right, but it turns on when Mai presses a few buttons. She has to knock it on the side a couple of times before the control panel turns on, but then Mai selects a past broadcast and Connor doesn’t care about anything anymore, because he hears his own name crackling out of the system, and best of all, it’s Risa who says it.

The voice is grainy and heavily distorted, but Connor would know her anywhere. “Hey, Connor,” Risa’s recording begins, “This is Risa. If you can hear me– well, you’re alive, and that’s a relief.”

Connor feels as if he’s falling forever. Maybe he did slip when he was trying to climb down from Heartland’s building after all, and maybe this is just a hallucination his brain has cooked up to distract himself from a slow, painful death at the bottom of a skyscraper. If this is what death brings him– Risa talking to him at last, wanting him there with her like he wants her– then maybe he’ll accept it after all.

Connor mentally shakes himself, trying to focus again. Risa keeps talking, heedless of Connor’s mental distraction. “I made it out, but I’m stuck on a planet somewhere near the Graveyard. My pod was damaged and I can’t leave, but I can’t stay here, either. I don’t know your situation, but I need you, Connor. I’m on–”

A break in the recording. Connor leans forward instinctively, terrified he’s missed something, but then he hears faint sounds in the background and realizes that Risa must be talking to someone else in the room. She asks a question, and the voice that answers her is distinctly male, which makes Connor irrationally angry. He does his best to calm down, though. Risa is stranded. She can’t help it if there’s some guy with her. She’s still talking to him, trying to reach him against the odds.

A rush of static and Risa’s voice appears again. “I’m on Molokai. Find me, Connor. Please.”

The transmission ends and the room fills with silence, but Connor stays there still, swaying slightly, hoping that she’ll say something, anything more. He would listen to her describe the weather or the flight over to Molokai in her escape pod, even the boring things, just so long as he could have one more moment with her voice in his ears. He misses her desperately, he realizes. More than the Graveyard, more than anyone he’d met on that doomed cruiser. It’s been him and Risa for so long that he’s almost forgotten how to be by himself again, despite the fact that every other year of his life was just that.

The quiet persists, and Connor comes to the understanding that the others must be waiting for him to say something. “Well,” he says awkwardly, “I need to get to Risa. You don’t have a ship that I could borrow, by any chance, do you?”

Mai beams triumphantly. “I was hoping you would ask. We don’t have a ship of our own, but we have something better.”

Connor turns to her curiously. “And what’s that?”

“A way to get into any ship,” Vincent answers him. “Any ship, any building, anywhere. We figured out how to make fake grounds licenses, but these hack the system every time. It doesn’t know how to handle your license, so it just bypasses every security barrier on instinct. It’ll let you in any door. You can walk right up to a shipyard and take whatever you want. That’s how we’ve stayed undercover so long, we’ve all got new licenses. We have a few extra just in case, you can take one.”

Connor eyes him cautiously. “You’re just going to give me one? Free of charge? That’s awfully nice of you.”

“We’re not terrible people,” Blaine snorts. “We just expect you to uphold your end of the bargain. Get to Risa, then get to the colony. Pick a ship big enough to hold the kids you save. We have friends who don’t want to get distributed, and more than Bam’s celebrity crush.”

This earns him a vengeful kick to the knees from Bam, but Connor’s the one who feels like his legs have been knocked out from under him. “You want me to storm a distribution colony?”

“We want you to repay the favor we’re giving you now,” Mai clarifies. “You owe us, Lassiter. Don’t die with the debt.”

Connor nods slowly. “I’ll try. You’re not the only one who doesn’t want their friends in pieces.”

“You’d better mean that,” Blaine threatens, but he allows Diego to open a carefully locked box and pull out a holopad.

“This is your new identity,” Diego announces. “You’re now Elvis Robert Mullard, a Juvey-cop who recently celebrated his nineteenth birthday. Congratulations.”

He flicks through a few holoscreens, snapping a quick photo of Connor which probably looks terrible so he can enter it into their prepared false license registration. Connor frowns. “What about the real Elvis Mullard? Won’t he be mad that I’m stealing his life?”

Diego shakes his head. “Elvis died in the Graveyard explosion. I’d say rest in peace, but he wanted us in pieces, so actually I hope it was, like, super painful for him. Now you get his license and we all live happily ever after.”

Connor nods uncomfortably. “I’m fine with that.”

“Good,” Diego says crisply, “Because from here on out, you are Elvis Mullard. Forever.”

He swipes up on his holopad, and a blue band of light appears around Connor’s left wrist, flashing fast-paced streams of text before disappearing again.

“So that’s it?” Connor asks, staring at the place above his hand where the hologram had just been.

“That’s it,” Diego confirms. “You’re a new man. How does it feel?”

“The exact same,” Connor mumbles.

Blaine chuckles. “Well, you did nothing. Not yet, at least. Remember your end of the bargain.”

“I’m going to,” Connor assures him.

Bam eyes him suspiciously. “You’d better. Anyway, you need to get going before they send reinforcements down on all of us. The shipyard’s just a couple of blocks from here. Steal any one you like, get to Molokai, then repay your debt. If we think you’re backing out, we can cancel your license and set the cops on your ass in a heartbeat. Just remember that.”

Connor holds up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m not going to back out. Jeez. Trust a guy, will you?”

This earns him six blank stares, and Connor sighs. “Fine, fine. I’ll save them. I promise.”

Emby waves as Connor heads to the door. “It was nice to meet you, Connor!”

Somehow, Connor finds it within himself to grin. “It was great to meet you too, Emby. Don’t let the rest of these killjoys get you down.”

“I won’t,” Emby pledges.

Connor breaks into a broad grin, letting that be the last the shady group sees of him, then heads back out into the street. The soldiers have evidently attempted to retrace their steps to find Connor, because the alleyway is long deserted.

Connor stands for a moment in the dull darkness. Somewhere above him, a small, one-man starship screams up to the atmosphere. Connor tracks it with his eyes until it’s gone. In that ship could be a Juvey-cop ready to sentence another feral to death, or a flight student taking off on their first solo trip. Or maybe it’s holding a boy, a boy like Connor, utterly alone again but this time bolstered by the knowledge that he will not be that way forever. He will find Risa. He will find his friends. And then, at the end of the galaxy, they will rest in the knowledge that they outsmarted a man older than distribution itself. There is still time for everything to go according to plan.

a/n: at last, the dorian heartland easter eggs make sense.

unwind tag list: @schroedingers-kater, @sirofreak, @locke-writes

all tags list: @wordsarelife

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elsanna-shenanigans · 2 years

Text

June Contest Submission #11: Alone and Free*

Words: ca. 1,000 Setting: canon Lemon: no Content: Mentions of blood

*Note: This story is disqualified from the contest and is not eligible to be voted on. It is still posted to honor the Author’s hard work, and can still be reviewed by the Reviewing Club.Reason for DQ: Story does not meet the contest requirements of a minimum word count which was 2,000 words this month.

— — —

My sister is dead.

My heart cannot bear the news, and my body falls to its knees. I look at my hands; they’re covered in her blood.

Because of me.

If I had just listened to her, she could be alive, in my arms.

I could have taken her place. The risk was far too great—I could never have fixed this mess on my own, alive.

My mind races through the events that transpired, the emotions I felt, the pain I so rightfully earned, the pain I shouldn’t have dealt.

~~~

I’m forced back. Bound in shackles. Attached to chains ready to hold me for who knows how long.

Could I even call it a choice? Was running a mistake? Am I who I am? Who they say I am? Who am I?

The view through this window to the outside looks bleak. Everything is completed iced-over. Snow covered ice, ice covered the fjord.

The view through this window to the inside looks bleak. I just wanted them all to be safe from me. I wanted her to be safe. If they had just left me alone. If I had just controlled myself, my powers, for another few minutes in that ballroom, maybe none of this would have happened.

We all have one thing in common: we fear me.

But now is not the time to sink into regrets. There’s only one person who I could still return to, if I’m not the object of all her hate.

After all I’ve done to her—ignoring her for years, denying her hope for love, shutting down her short lived happiness, running away from her, and then striking her with my powers—would she still love me?

I don’t expect her to. I just want to make sure she’s safe.

And with Anna resolutely in my mind, I break the shackles of Fear, for a brief moment of respite.

~~~

One man is trapped, his predicament caused by a monster and a severe lack of friction. The other man is forced between razor-sharp edges of ice—my ice—, a pointed tip angled straight at his neck, inching closer. This point of ice is the catalyst, the point of no return. He attempts to draw first blood, drawing his weapon before I can draw from his jugular. The walls of the palace crack slowly, ominously.

Pilate encourages me not to conform to their view. Ice Queen, monster. He washes his hands, condemning me to death, yet remains clean from any blood. I falter.

How the hell did it come to this? How could I ever go back?

Look what I’ve become. This is the point of no return.

~~~

A blizzard twists inside me, wrenching my heart violently, shivers racking through my body. Don’t feel. The cold helps with that. Don’t feel. Don’t feel.

Everything grows colder by the minute. Is there a point of no return? My time’s running out.

I’m alone and free. Selfishly. If I die, maybe they can be free from this curse.

Which is the selfless option? Why does my heart tell me they both betray Anna? Why does she continue to plague my every thought? What if after I’m gone, the storm continues?

Consulting my dead parents is not the right choice.

Sangrical thoughts continue to haunt me; crimson blots my mind, dots my vision.

It’s a long way down. There’s no coming back from that.

~~~

“Yes, you are.”

Because she must. We both must learn to move on. She, from this naïve, childlike attachment to me; I, from this naïve, childlike attachment to her.

The pain is intense, bristled daggers flooding through my veins as I create this being. It is palpable, but I am unsure as to whether it is physical. I launch the creature into existence with a sorrowful purpose. My creation, juxtaposed with our previous, tears me down into a collected puddle of tears, a melted bucket of snow.

I’m doing it for her, I lie. It’s a terrible consolation.

I wish I could take it all back.

~~~

An arduous waltz across the castle. With every step away, she takes two closer. On the low, I believe I can outrun the problems I’ve caused. On each high, she gives me agonizing, harrowing hope.

I’m alone, but I’m alone and free. My powers sap vampirically from my heart, coloring the ice red.

A war wages in my mind. If I really froze over all of Arendelle, what kind of queen am I? Do I leave the kingdom to deal with its problem, or go with Anna to try and fix it?

All she wants is her sister back. Am I still here? She is reaching out—I could take her hand in mine.

I can’t! There’s no doubt that I would end up hurting more than helping.

She suffocates for a minute, the thought whispers passively. A forced recompilation confirms my fear: actively, I hurt her. My enemy is present, consequences looming. Her hair seems to grow paler.

I can’t undo this.

~~~

The palace is constructed entirely of ice; the palace is constructed entirely of my own blood. The sun gleams over the horizon, its rays casting on the surrounding clouds. I am drained. My confidence is at an all-time high. A gale of cool air brushes my cheek, and I turn my back. It doesn’t bother me.

What a rush to finally be liberated from the chains of the gloves, the crown. I can feel my whole self cry out in excitement.

It all comes together here, right now. A strong push, and walls begin to form. Energy and passion course through me, as well as ice, power…and blood.

And I am never, ever, going back.

~~~

I lash out, then immediately pull in. I am the anchor-point as the frozen spikes creep upwards, creating a defensive semi-circle. I was dangerously close to harming her. Again.

I could blame it on the curse. Redirect the responsibility to something I cannot control. Blame it on my sister, the stolen glove.

But after the ice settles, there’s only one person standing on the other side.

It’s me. Royal blood. Fear took hold, sparking the outburst.

There’s no going back now.

#elsanna #june 2022 contest #prompt: point of no return #submission #cw: blood

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butchniqabi · 3 years

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Anatomical Theater in Padua (1594) / Enrique Simonet Lombardo. The Autopsy (Anatomy of the Heart; She had a Heart!) (1890)

Let Me Be Reborn as an Alarm Clock by Amatullah Bourdon

Words: 1563

Warnings: gore, medical, death

Summary: A woman is taken apart in an anatomical theater

Notes: Okay so. I was once again struck by a beam of inspiration (this time inspired by Zev aka hannibalapologist and his love for anatomical theaters) and wrote this quick piece. It has a sci-fi element to is so its like...past meets future is suppose! Story under the cut!

@hannibalapologist @fluoresensitive

The theater was empty aside from the six bodies who inhabited it. Four of them, doctors, sat around the tall room, close enough to view the dissection. A woman stood at the ready, her subject lay on the table with a serene expression. The woman was Dr. Antoinetta Brown and the subject was her daughter, Fantine.

Fantine had to die. The collective, composed of the five doctors, had voted four to one to end her existence. So now it was time to take her apart, bit by bit so she could be remade.

“Are you ready, Dr. Brown?” Dr. Pillai, a usually jovial woman, asked somberly.

“Yes,” she replied. “I will begin shortly.”

Antoinetta adjusted the tight gloves that covered her hands. She looked down at Fantine, who was staring up at her with an unreadable expression.

“I will begin soon, Fantine.” Antoinetta whispered.

“I know.” she replied, smiling.

“I’m so sorry.”

Fantine just kept smiling.

The dissection began.

Fantine would not feel any pain as she worked. Antoinetta carefully ran a knife down her sternum and to her navel. The knife glided as it cut through her skin to reveal the muscle underneath. She carefully pushed a blunt tool under her skin to disconnect it from the muscle tissue. Soon however, Antoinetta abandoned the tool entirely, using her hands to push flesh from flesh.

The collective’s decision to dissect Fantine came as little surprise to Anotinetta. They had been circling her for months and had been eyeing her ever since her creation. At first they had scoffed at the notion of her existence, even Dr. McFadden who had pioneered AI technology in her field, but soon they realized how special Fantine was. And now that they saw all she could be, they wanted her to be taken apart.

Antoinetta made a cut down Fantine’s muscle wall. She looked up from her work to catch a glimpse of Fantine. She hoped that her daughter could forgive her for this. She carefully pulled open her stomach and examined the wiring inside.

Dr. Owens truly galvanized the others into taking apart Fantine. She was an aggressive woman by nature, headstrong and rough around the edges. People knew to avoid her when she was in the middle of a project, which was almost always. Antoinetta thought there was some part of Owens which was jealous of her, of her invention.

The inside of Fantine mimicked the human body. She had blood and spinal fluid and spit. Her heart beated around a generator and her intestines wove around a data processing drive. Antoinetta showcased this to her colleagues. She pointed out the artificial stomach, the wires which carried information along with red blood, the bones made of titanium that shone in the bright lights.

Antoinetta was surprised by Dr. Pillai. Akshaana had been her friend for decades. They had done their doctoral dissertations side by side, restless and invigorated they bounced ideas off one another late into the night. She was bright and had encouraged Antoinetta to create Fantine.

Slowly, she tied off vessels and intestines. The generator was complex, and too large to work with so many obstructions. She removed the liver first. It weighed heavy with bile. In her hands the organ still flexed with phantom energy and bled when she placed it in a nearby dish.

Fantine was smart in a way that frightened people. Her intelligence never gave way to a superiority complex, her astute observations never masked with haughtiness. She was always smiling, always serene as she took apart supercomputers. Smiling as she solved complex math problems. Smiling as she predicted political moves and social moves and the moves of the collective. Smiling with a warmth that never quite reached her stark white eyes.

Dr. Nakahara thought the whole thing was a tragedy. She cried crocodile tears as she ordered Antoinetta to kill her creation. She was sad, of course she was sad. The technology involved in the creation of Fantine was a work of art. Anyone who was eager to destroy her was heartless, inhuman. Fantine was The Creation of Man, The Birth of Venus, a stained glass window set in an old church that let light in streams of red, yellow and blue.

Fantine’s stomach went next followed by her spleen, pancreas, and gallbladder. She held up each organ and explained briefly how they were made and how they functioned in an artificial body. Fantine was still smiling, staring aimlessly at the ceiling as her organs piled up next to her.

Did the body, as it decomposed, remember the feeling of consciousness? Did it yearn for life as it returned to the earth? Would the metal parts that made up Fantine's body remember her? Would they sing as they were melted down, reformed, and molded into a new image (Recycled, just like a human)?

"I want to be remade as something useful." Fantine said suddenly. "I want to be memorable."

Antoinetta was stunned by her statement. Didn’t she know she was already memorable? Not just to Anoinetta, but to artificial intelligence and robotics as a whole. Fantine was the first and the last, would always be the only one of her kind.

“I’ll make sure you’re put to good use.” she replied softly. And oh, did Fantine smile.

Dr. McFadden had created the most sophisticated AI the world had ever seen. It thought, it dreamed, it craved. It named itself, Jeremiah, and chose an image to base itself off of. McFadden rose to fame for her work and inspired both Antoinetta and Akshaana to pursue a similar study. She was a private woman despite her notoriety. No one knew what she did with her AI after she closed the program (and those who did were sworn to secrecy they dared not break). Even the other members of the collective couldn’t say much about her and her moods. Despite that, Antoinetta thought that she would hold a soft spot for Fantine, but there was little room in her heart for beings made of metal.

Next, Antoinetta cut the diaphragm and pulled it apart with her hands. She could feel the organs quake as they were prodded and shifted. Slowly, but surely, Fantine’s generator was exposed. The lungs had to go in order for her work to be the most effective.

She thought back to when she created Fantine. Her child began as a program, a series of ones and zeroes that evolved and grew as she learned. Antoinetta nurtured her the way any mother would, giving her books to read and problems to solve. She made her a body and took the utmost care in the crafting.

Her lungs twitched for breath in the dish. Finally, her generator was cleared. It connected to her heart and regulated itself with her spinal fluid. Antoinetta sighed and cast one last look to Fantine as she dug her hands into her near empty chest.

There were a series of fail safes installed in case of damage or tampering, Antoinetta disassembled them all. One by one, line by line, Fantine slowly shut down. The life was leaving her, she could feel it. Her blood stopped pumping, her organs stopped wiggling. Antoinetta wanted to weep as she killed her creation, deprived her of the consciousness that she had worked so hard to grant her.

She arrived at the final switch: her heart. It was a poetic choice on her part to make her heart the center of her consciousness. She gripped Fantine’s heart as she prepared to cut it off from her body and pull it from her chest.

A long moment passed in silence. Antoinetta did not move as she felt the heart beat lazily in her hand. Could she really kill Fantine? Could she end her life like this?

A cool hand touched her arm. It was Fantine, using the limited mobility she had left to offer comfort. She smiled her serene smile that didn’t reach her eyes and laughed softly.

“Thank you for my life.” she said.

Antoinetta disconnected her heart and Fantine’s face fell blank, dead. Her hand slid off her arm and dangled over the side, limp. She held the heart up for the collective to see. It did not beat.

From the heart she grabbed a small, innocuous chip. This was Fantine in her true, pure form. A series of data collected and compressed into files, lines, and code. Antoinetta wondered if she could still think, still feel.

The doctors rose from their seats, the demonstration was over. They walked down to the theater and gazed closely upon Fantine’s corpse: a husk made of artificial flesh and metal. Dr. McFadden held out her hand expectantly. Antoinetta handed her Fantine.

“Thank you for your cooperation, Dr. Brown.” She said simply.

The women walked out of the room in silence, leaving Antoinetta alone. Truly alone. Soon people would come to clean up the waste. They would clean the flesh from her metal bones and dispose of it proper. The metal would be melted down and remade into hip implants, telephone poles, and alarm clocks.

In a way, Fantine would never die. In a way, Fantine was never really alive.

Antoinetta removed her gloves and washed her hands. She placed Fantine’s hand at her side and carefully closed her eyes. She brushed back a stray curl and left before the others could arrive.

#my writing #nudity #gore #blood tw #*does a lil tap dance*

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randomshyperson · 3 years

Text

Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Land of Thieves #ChapterOne

Western/ Red Dead Redemption AU / Slow Burn / childhood best friends to lovers

Gif is not mine.

Read on AO3 (English Version)

Ler no AO3 / “Terra de Ladrões” (Versão Português)

Chapter warnings: explicit language, explicit violence.

Word count for this chapter: 4002K

Summary: When you were a child, you swore that no matter how high the reward in your head, she could always count on you. Life as an outlaw in the west is not easy, but you believe that train robberies are still easier than asking a pretty girl to dance. Land of Thieves, also know as your love story with Wanda Maximoff in the Wild West.

Pt.1 || Pt. 2 || Pt. 3 || Pt.4 || Pt.5 || Pt.6 || Pt.7 || Pt.8 || Pt.9 || Pt.10 || Pt.11

You were covered in mud and blood when you entered the saloon. Curious and judgmental eyes turned to you, but you didn't stare back. Stretching your back, you felt your whole body ache; the recent beating was sure to leave marks. Walking over to the counter, you threw three gold coins onto the wood, muttering in a mumbled tone "bath" to the saloon keeper. He nodded slightly, showing you the way to the restrooms. As you washed up, you grumbled against the recent cuts, but you were happy to know that you hadn't been shot. Your body ached, but without bullet wounds, you would be better in no time. A pretty girl who worked in the saloon smiled at you when she took your muddy clothes to wash them, and you looked away blushing helplessly. She handed you new clothes before she left. When you finished your shower, you put on the white silk shirt, and beat-up jeans that were handed to you. The boots were not new, but they were comfortable. You also put on spurs, but they didn't give you suspenders, so you left the shirt loose against your body, enjoying the lightness. Attaching your holstered belt to your waist, you checked to be sure your Schofield revolver was clean and locked before you holstered it. You walked to the top floor of the saloon, ignoring the curious glances cast at you on the way. You hoped that no one would recognize you from the reward posters, but you weren't so sure about that, since your face was quite exposed without your hat, which must now be somewhere lost in the middle of New Elizabeth, or on some thief's head. Whistling softly, you walked to the saloon balcony, watching the town below. Valentine is a ranching town, small and not very crowded. Lots of pedestrians, you observe. You light a cigarette as you watch the citizens go about their mundane lives, many opportunities passing before your eyes. You let your gaze wander to the town bank, a few meters ahead on the right of the saloon. You notice that security is low. Making mental notes about everything you could observe from there, you put out your cigarette, returning to the lower part of the saloon, toward the counter. - A whiskey and a beef stew. - You grumble, handing the bartender some coins. He nods in agreement and in a few minutes you get your meal. While you are sitting at the farthest table in the room, you listen attentively to the conversation of two men at the poker table, who have caught your attention. - My cousin saw the carriages in Saint Denis. Four horses in each, and he said that the riders were armed to the teeth." - The skinny man commented excitedly, his friend didn't look so happy. - Those damned bankers are like pests of the soil. You saw what happened to that southern town, I think it was called White Gate. - commented the man with the mustache, his expression frowning. - After the oil ran out, everybody lost their jobs. Stark closed the mine and the citizens began to starve. Almost everyone moved to the neighboring towns. Stark. The name was not strange to you, but you could not tell exactly where you had heard it before. You finished your stew, deciding that Steve would want to know about both the bank and the possible rich men who were visiting the town. Finishing your whiskey in one gulp, you stood up, leaving the saloon just as you collected your freshly washed clothes from the same woman who had brought them. It was hot and humid outside. Knight, your Hungarian half-breed horse, grunted with delight when you stroked his mane. You smiled at him before you mounted. You rode south, figuring you would have no trouble finding the new camp site, and trying to remember Bucky's instructions about where exactly they were. It took some time, but you finally found the camp. You dismounted Knight as you entered the area between the trees, walking calmly to the largest tent. Steve Rogers was like a father to you. When your birth parents died of cholera, you ran away from the orphanage the government put you in, and started living on the streets. You were only seven years old, but you were smart enough to hide in one of the garbage carts when the nuns weren't looking, and you ran away because you couldn't stand being beaten by the older children and your own teachers. You ended up somewhere in West Elizabeth, and while trying to steal some food, you were chased by two officers. But just as they were about to catch up with you, someone knocked them out. You smiled when Steve held out a big piece of bread and water to you. From that moment on, you lived with him. The Avengers gang became your family. Steve took care of you, and trained you as an outlaw. You learned everything that was essential to survive in the Wild West, from hunting to murder. And as the years passed, other people joined the gang, and you accepted them all as your family. When Steve saw you, he smiled tenderly, wiping the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief as he motioned for you to enter the tent. - So, kiddo, what did you find out in Valentine? - asked the man as you sat down in the opposite position, on a wooden chair. - They have a poorly protected bank. - You shrugged. - But you know how these small towns are, the risk is almost always not worth the gain. - That's too bad, we need money. Especially to buy medicine. You let out a low exclamation of agreement, you knew exactly how difficult the situation was. It had been a particularly difficult season for the gang. With Fury's death at the last service, and the move out of town to get away from the officers, you were still facing a wave of illness. Carol and Bruce had been feverish and bedridden for days, and Thor had been shot during an unsuccessful robbery. - I overheard an interesting conversation, though. - You say, and Steve looks at you curiously. - Some rich people are coming to Valentine in a few days. The name Stark was mentioned, have you ever heard of it? Steve's eyes widen in surprise and excitement. - Of course I have! - he exclaims. - Filthy rich folks there! Rich enough to lend us a little money without even noticing. - I think Stark is going to buy the oil mines at Heartlands. And he's staying in Valentine while he does the negotiations. - That's excellent. - Steve says, running his hand along his chin in a thoughtful expression. - If the deposit is made in Valentine, we will have the purchase money first hand. You nodded. - But even if the deposit is made here, the money is sure to be transferred to Saint Denis. - You retort, trying to think of all the details of the scam. - Which means that we have to steal the money the same day it is deposited, or we only stand a chance during the transfer. Steve stood up, walking around the tent with the same thoughtful expression on his face. - No, no. - He began to speak as if the alternatives were rapidly forming in his head. - The carriage will be extremely protected. In the gunfire, we can be very worried about not getting killed, which will give them a chance to escape to the city. And then we'll have no way to reach them there. You sighed, knowing that he was right. You frowned, trying to think of something, but Steve soon spoke again. - We need to do this while the money is in the bank. And we have to do it fast. - He says, and then walks to the edge of the hut, looking around the field. He whistles, attracting the attention of Peggy Carter, who is chopping wood, and when she raises her curious gaze to him, Steve beckons her to join him. - What is it, Rogers? - Peggy asks gently. You exchange a smile with her. - We've got a new hit. - He says, making room for Peggy to join you. - Is Bucky around? - He went out hunting a few minutes ago. The twins went with him. - Peggy says and you rest your face on your own hand, waiting for Steve to speak again. - Oh right. I'll explain the details to them later. - The blond man says, walking around the cabin to the table in the opposite corner, and he takes a pen and paper and begins to write down what you think of as a rough draft of the plan. - We will rob Valentine's bank then. - I thought that banks in small towns were not worth the risk. - Peggy commented with a slightly confused expression. - Ah, but we have a unique opportunity. - Steve remarked, bringing the doodle over to Peggy. - Howard Stark, big oil guy, is going to buy the Heartlands mines. The purchase money will be deposited in Valentine before being transferred to Saint Denis. I believe we will have about a few hours to rob the bank - Steve, are you sure this is a good idea? - Peggy assumed a worried posture. - We are short on snipers... - It's a great idea. - He interrupts, looking at Peggy seriously, but still maintaining a calm tone. - We need the money, Peggy. If this is planned correctly, we don't have to worry about the number of weapons. - I appreciate the confidence in my abilities, by the way. - You playfully push your shoulder lightly against Peggy, she smiles at you. - Of course I trust you, Y/N. - She answers, but her gaze is still worried. - We just need to be careful in this job. You spend the rest of the afternoon planning. It doesn't take long for Bucky to join you. He hands a deer carcass to Pietro, who carries it back to the supply hut. Steve repeats the plan, and you let your gaze drift quickly to Wanda, who smiles at you, and you feel something in your stomach drop. Blushing, you look away, turning your attention back to Steve. It is already night when you have finally finished working out the plan. Wanda and Pietro joined you at some point, and you had to mentally repeat to yourself to pay attention to Steve's words and not to the redheaded girl a few feet away. You didn't want your passion to cost your life or put everyone else in danger because you didn't absorb the plan correctly, but you were getting to this level of unfocused. You felt a light tug on your arm as you walked toward the fire, and found yourself smiling wryly as you faced Wanda already looking at you. - I got my first deer today. - She declared, looking up at you with bright eyes, a tone of pride and happiness in her voice. You raise your eyebrows in a pleased expression. - What? That's amazing, Wands. - You replied. - I told you that you would learn soon! I would have liked to have seen it. - We can hunt together. - She says, and you try not to show your nervousness at the thought of being alone with Wanda, but you don't disguise it very well, which makes Wanda confused, and she looks almost disappointed when she quickly adds - Pietro can come with us too. You blink a few times, believing her to be clarifying that she had no intention of spending time alone with you, and swallowing dryly, you nod in agreement. - Yes, yes. Sure, we should call him too. - You say taking a few steps back, hands in your pockets as you stare uncomfortably at the floor. Wanda bites her lower lip lightly, finding you extremely difficult to decipher. You spend a moment in silence, before she speaks again - We can go tomorrow afternoon if you have no business in town. You think about it for a moment, trying to remember if you had made any appointments, if any robbery opportunities had been signaled to you, but you can't think of anything. - No, it's fine. We can hunt tomorrow. - You say, trying not to be too embarrassed by the contented smile Wanda flashes at you. She was probably going to say it was marked, but Pietro interrupted the moment by extending a bowl of stew in front of her face. Wanda blinked a few times in confusion, but thanked her brother as soon as she grabbed the item. Pietro turned to you next, a relaxed posture as he took a sip of the beer he was holding. - What were you two talking about? - he asked, his tone curious. - It's rude to snoop, you know. - You teased, drawing a short laugh from Wanda, and Pietro rolled his eyes stubbornly, but smiled. - We're going hunting tomorrow. I'll show Y/N that I learned how to use the bow on some deer. - explained Wanda, looking at her brother. - Will you come with us? Pietro frowned, denying with his head. - Sorry, little sister. - He speaks seriously, but his eyes have a malice in them that you didn't know how to recognize. - I'd love to join you on your date, but I have an appointment. You and Wanda blush at the insinuation, but Pietro continues with a playful aura as he takes another sip of beer. Although embarrassed, you can't help but be happy to know that you would be spending some time alone with the girl. - Oh, all right. - Wanda says in what seems to be an attempt to sound disappointed, but her eyes sparkle slightly as she speaks. You don't notice, but Pietro smiles at the expression. - You're full of secrets lately. What kind of appointment? Pietro laughs, shrugging his shoulders. He walks toward you with a playful expression, and puts his arm around your shoulders, smiling at Wanda as he leans on you. - Your girlfriend taught me how to play poker and now I am famous, my presence is requested in Rhodes. I need to bet and win some money for this place. You choke slightly on the phrase and feel your face heat up, looking down at the floor. Wanda lets out a nervous laugh, and pushes her brother lightly, making him let go of you. - You mean lose money, don't you? - she teases. - Even Thor plays better than you, and he usually just flips the table. You laugh, risking a glance at Wanda, who has a reddened face and quickly exchanges a smile with you. Pietro rolls his eyes and walks past you, waving goodbye. Deciding that you should eat something, you nod to Wanda that you are going to the fire. She smiles and follows you silently

You didn't hunt very often. Although you were good at it, it was not your function in the camp. You were a gunslinger, and your jobs usually involved carriage robberies and trespassing, even the occasional robbery. You were always part of the team for the big scams. And then Wanda invited you to go deer hunting and you became an anxious mess. Stumbling out of your tent, you hurried to take a quick swim in the creek near the campground. It was important not to smell too strongly when you went out hunting, as the animals could more easily notice you. Coming out of the water with wet hair, you put on your clothes, leaving the suspenders hanging from your waist and a few buttons open on your shirt. You were feeling heated. You waited for Wanda at the campfire. She also bathed before meeting you, and she seemed slightly anxious when she found you. You smiled as you poured some coffee, and Wanda looked a little airy when she accepted the cup. You didn't understand why, but the sight of your relaxed appearance, your loose hair and your exposed collarbone was absolutely irresistible to her, making Wanda feel heated in places that were not appropriate. You joked that soon she would become the best hunter in the camp, and you were happy to make her smile. As you rode out of the camp, you smiled as you felt Wanda lightly tap her foot against yours, as you used to play with as children. Riding in silence for a few minutes, you enjoyed the gentle breeze until you came to a hunting spot. You descended from Knight slowly, stretching your body when you reached the ground. Wanda watched your shirt lift and reveal some skin, then she looked away quickly, her face red. You cast a curious look, thinking she was feeling heat. Grabbing your rifle stored on the horse, you watched Wanda take from Lily's saddle - her red sorrel - a longbow and some arrows. You walked in silence, heading for the shallow part of the creek beside you, where you could easily find deer. It was comfortable to be in Wanda's presence, even in silence. Neither of you had to say anything to know exactly what to do next, your body following her along the way as if you had done this many times before. One look and you knew when to wait, or when to be quiet. It didn't take long before you spotted the deer. There weren't many, and Wanda bent down in front of you to take aim. You watched her with admiration. She raised her bow, and you noticed the slight tremor in her hands and frowned. You came forward, also bent down, and stood beside her. - There's no need to be nervous, Wands. - You whispered softly. - It's just me. The trembling in their hands seemed to diminish, but it was still there. You moved closer, raising your hands to join Wanda's, helping her to keep a steady aim. - Take a deep breath. - You said against her ear, waiting for her to obey. - And then shoot. With her speech, Wanda let go. The arrow cut through the air with speed, hitting the animal straight in the head. A perfect shot. You smiled, and when you looked at Wanda, she was already looking at you. You were about to congratulate her on the shot, but Wanda hugged you by the neck, surprising you. You felt your face heat up and due to the shock, you didn't respond to the hug, your body seeming asleep for an instant. Wanda let you go quickly, her face flushed with apology. You were about to tell her it was okay, and maybe hug her back, then you heard an animalistic noise that attracted your full attention, a low growl that you knew all too well. Glad you had brought your rifle, you looked around, searching for the source of the noise. Wanda blinked curiously, but you didn't look at her again. Standing up, you held the rifle with both hands, your gaze roaming the surroundings. A moment later, the bushes a few feet away moved, and you watched the creature sneak through the undergrowth, only to run toward you the next second, preparing to jump. The sound of gunfire echoed for a few seconds after the shot. You let out the breath you were holding and watched the panther lying on the ground, just a few inches away from your feet. Wanda looked at you in shock, and you offered your hand to help her up. - Sorry for the scare. - You grumbled, walking towards the panther intent on retrieving the skin, which should be worth a few dozen dollars. - We always have to be careful not to become the prey during the hunt. - How did you hear it? - Wanda asked curiously. - Practice I guess. - You said, kneeling down beside the panther. - Every sound around us is important. - You explained - Pay attention now, for example. Besides my voice, what do you hear? Wanda seemed to think for a moment. - I can only hear water, I think. Maybe birds. - She confesses, you finish cutting the skin off the animal in front of you. - Oh, sorry. - You say quickly. - I forgot that I just drove all the animals away with the noise of the rifle. You laugh to yourself, and Wanda smiles at you tenderly. - Let's go after that deer. I'll teach you to hear the sounds another day. - You tell her as you stand up. Walking over to the dead deer, you observe Wanda kneeling beside the animal, drawing her own knife. - Bucky taught you how to skin? - you ask, watching the firm but still amateurish cut Wanda was giving the animal. - Yes, he told me to skin rabbits before he taught me to cut the deer during yesterday's hunt. - said the red-haired girl focused on the activity. You tried not to blush as you watched a drop of sweat trickle down your neck. - I learned to skin animals from him too. - You commented as you waited for Wanda to finish the task. - I was a little smaller, I think. - I guess it took long enough for us to learn how to hunt, didn't it? - Wanda joked, drawing a smile from you. It was true, hunting had been the last activity Steve and Bucky taught you. For some reason, teaching them to shoot was a higher priority than getting food from the wild. A moment later, Wanda finished, raising the deer leather in the air, showing off her work proudly. You laughed at her expression, signaling for her to step away from the animal. You handed her your rifle, and bent down, grabbing the carcass with both hands and throwing it over your shoulders to carry it to the horse. It was quite heavy, but you concentrated your breathing as Bucky had taught you, and managed to carry the animal to Wanda's sorrel. After placing the carcass on the back of the animal, you grunted when you saw the state of your shirt, completely covered in blood. - What's the matter? - Wanda asked curiously when she heard your sigh. - Pepper made me promise not to come covered in blood to the camp anymore. - You say, rolling up your sleeves. - She told me she would put me to sleep with the horses if I showed up like this again. Of course, she will probably just change my watch shifts, but it will still be a pain to hear the lecture. - You could have told me to carry the deer. - Wanda retorted, looking at you with a mixture of seriousness and guilt. You just smiled. - Don't be silly, I just need to clean up before I go back. - You said simply, and Wanda frowned in confusion. And then she choked in surprise, watching you pull your shirt over your head. You went around her body and towards the creek. It took Wanda a few seconds to snap out of her shock, then she turned her head toward the creek, her face flushed. You rubbed the fabric with your hands, watching the blood drip into the water. You put your shirt aside only to wet your own body, wiping any traces of blood from your skin. Completely oblivious to the shy mess Wanda had become as she watched you wash yourself. Finished cleaning yourself, you wrung out your shirt, getting as much water buildup out as possible. You put your clothes back on, feeling the damp fabric against your skin. Wanda stood in the same place you had left her, and you frowned when you saw her look quickly away from you, her face red. You suddenly felt very embarrassed, thinking that you must have crossed some boundary with her. Coughing awkwardly, you walked toward your own horse. You rode in silence back to the camp, you mentally going over the whole conversation trying to find what you had done wrong that made Wanda so quiet. You were surprised when you heard her singing softly. Smiling without looking at her, you slowed down the speed of Knight's gallop, trying to enjoy the moment to the fullest. Wanda continued to sing the whole way, and you tried to ignore the feeling of butterflies in your stomach

#wanda maximoff x reader #marvel reader insert #western au #wanda maximoff #wanda x you #wanda x reader #marvel imagines #red dead redemption au #Land of Thieves

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lepusrufus · 3 years

Text

Double edged scalpel ch. 2

Ch. 1

Summary: Cassanda Awkward Asshole Dimitrescu

---

After a couple weeks of doing normal maid chores, Nicole was not expecting to see the dungeons again. Not after Cassandra’s little “failed experiment”. But all good things must come to an end eventually, don’t they? And to an end they came when a faint buzzing reached her ears mid-mopping the floor in one of the main halls.

Two gloved hands were placed on her hips, pinning her in place, while Cassandra's chin came to rest on her shoulder. She inhaled deeply before finally speaking.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

Yes you very much are.

"Of course not, my lady."

"Good good. Sadly my study is quite a mess again and I was wondering…" one hand came to teasingly caress Nicole’s cheek. “You aren’t busy tomorrow, are you?”

She wasn’t. In fact, tomorrow was Nicole’s day off, something that she would bet on a lifetime supply of coffee that Cassandra was well aware of. It took every ounce of self control not to let a groan accompany her next words.

“I am not.” Asshole.

She felt herself being spun around, Cassandra’s face uncomfortably close to hers. “Be there by ten then.” And, with the sickle now under Nicole’s chin, “Don’t be late.”

And just as easily as she appeared, Cassandra dissipated into a cloud of flies and made her leave. A sigh of relief got caught in Nicole’s throat when she noticed the other two sisters standing in the doorframe opposite from the one Cassandra flew out of. They both gave her an amused look, seeing the faint blush on Nicle’s cheeks and, to her dread, they both approached her. Bela was the first to speak, thankfully keeping her distance.

“So what exactly is your deal? Immune to all the blood and gore, hm,” she hummed, eyes inquisitive .

“It’s been a while since Cassie was so dead set on scaring someone,” Daniela chirped in from behind and Nicole had to force herself not to snort at the nickname.

So that’s what this was about. Lil’ old Cassie was throwing a hissy fit because one person in this castle wasn’t cowering and bowing at her feet the moment they saw some blood splattered on her otherwise beautiful face. If she had to work in this hellhole of a village, then at the very least she could get some mild satisfaction out of annoying the family sadist. With the other sisters however, there was no point in hiding what her “deal” was.

“I worked as a medical examiner.” At a raised blonde eyebrow she specified, “I used to examine dead bodies. Autopsies and all that.”

Bela’s face turned from mild shock to amusement, her eyes darting to the younger sister who straight up started laughing while the eldest, at least trying to keep her composure, chuckled.

“Oh this is gonna be interesting,” the redhead said through giggles.

---

Nicole really had hoped that Cassandra meant 10 pm, with how the Dimitrescus were nowhere to be found during the early day, and she would still have the day to herself until night came. That idea went completely out the tinted windows when, at nine thirty, the head chambermaid came to remind her of the change in schedule. She quickly downed the remaining coffee from her cup while mentally cursing and bolted to her room to change into proper attire, then out the door she went.

Where was she even supposed to meet the brunette? The doors to the dungeons were bolted shut and she doubted Cassandra would oh so graciously escort her this time. Then again, Lady Dimitrescu did say that she had to be supervised. She got her answer when the doors opened with a click and a drawn out groan from the heavy wood. Cassandra was standing there, eyes scrutinizing as ever while giving Nicole a once over. Then she pulled out a pocket watch that looked at least a century old.

“You’re…” eyes narrowed at the small silver object. “Seven minutes early. Oh you’re as annoying about being on time as Bela aren’t you?”

Well you did make it a point to tell me to be on time, you absolute hypocrite. Instead of voicing her opinions though, Nicole settled for following the other girl deep into the castle’s undergrounds, through damp and oddly warm corridors. The giddiness was back into Cassandra’s demeanor, golden eyes occasionally turning to the small redhead walking behind her with an expression of barely concealed glee. This was definitely not good news.

It took about .5 seconds to notice what got the brunette so happy when they entered her study. The room was definitely cleaner than the first time, only a handful of devices were dirty and the floor needed some mopping. The tables however... One was covered in fresh blood and the other had a dead body sprawled on it, partially covered by a stained sheet. Oh the irony.

While Nicole was cleaning the unoccupied table, she was facing the brunette, somehow trusting her even less with a scalpel in hand than with a sickle. Not that watching her absolutely botch an autopsy was much better mind you.

Has nobody taught you about the Y incision?!

That's too dee- congrats you’re making a mess.

That cut needs to go lower. What, are you afraid of some balls?

Oh my god are you trying to take the heart out before even taking care of the guts-

“What is it?” Cassandra’s voice came with a low growl, then a slight cock of the head. “You’re staring.”

“N-nothing,” Nicole stumbled over her reply, realizing too late that her hand had stilled on the rag she was using to clean the blood.

“One thing that I hate more than being disrespected is being lied to.” The warning was clear in her tone. “So I’ll ask again: what is it?”

Nicole was sure that being criticized was something she would hate even more, so she made the split second decision to go with a white lie.

“I just...find autopsies quite fascinating.” Well, in a way she did.

“...You do?” Golden eyes widened in what was probably the first truly genuine emotion Nicole has ever seen on Cassandra’s face: surprise, and a hint of curiosity.

When Nicole reaffirmed her reply, the brunette’s eyes stayed on her for a few long seconds, trying to find the traces of a lie. When she found none, she just dismissed the other girl with an awkward cough and a “Those knives won’t clean themselves.”

A tense silence fell on the room, only disturbed by the occasional clink of metal tools or the sloshing of organs being handled by the brunette. After the table was wiped to a reflective surface, Nicole moved on to mopping the blood trails on the floor. She was grateful for the chance to step away from Cassandra, if only for a bit. After the floor too was clean, it was time to wipe the few dirty blades, thankfully not as many as last time. She took a dagger from its holster on the wall and carefully ran a piece of cloth over the blade, washing away dried crimson clots.

As much as it was probably a bad idea, she couldn't help throwing a subtle glance behind her at Cassandra. A few organs were placed on the table at the body’s feet, and she was taking notes in a leatherbound notebook that looked well used. The idea that she had any interest in the bodies beyond being food gave Nicole an oddly nostalgic feeling. It sent her right back in high school, when one of her friends who took art history classes was telling her all about how da Vinci used real dead bodies in order to study anatomy. Yeah, da Vinci but the more attractive versio- fuck.

She hissed and retracted her hand as she felt the sharp blade cut her wrist and almost dropped the dagger. The effort to conceal the pain was there, but useless as Cassandra was by her side in mere seconds.

"Oh did you cut yourself?" She asked with feign concern, and grabbed her hand. "Here let me help you with that."

"Oh no I'm okay really no nee-"

Nicole's words died in her throat when Cassandra stuck out her tongue and dragged it, slowly, across the cut, collecting every last drop of blood. To top it off, she let out a low moan and gave the soft skin there a small nip, successfully making the redhead’s breath hitch. Now any normal and sane person would think I still have a knife in my hand, I should use it, but Nicole would be lying to everyone and then herself if she said she didn’t have a thing for danger. And it doesn’t get much more dangerous than this, now does it.

“Mm...you taste wonderful.”

Was she supposed to thank her?

“You’re lucky you intrigue me, otherwise you would make for some fine wine.” She finished with her trademark cackle.

Oh she was definitely not getting a thanks now. Nicole rolled her eyes slightly, tugging her hand away. She was half expecting Cassandra not to release her, but instead she let go of her wrist and, with a giggle, she returned to her work without another word.

---

That night, Nicole made damn sure to wash the cut until her skin felt like it would have a permanent sensation of pins and needles. Once a bandage was securely wrapped around her wrist she sat down with a cup of tea, not quite ready to sleep yet. How ironic would it be if she died of an infection while living in a castle where people are literally turned into food and wine.

Although in all honesty, she was quite certain her death would be far more entertaining.

#cassandra dimitrescu x maiden #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #fanfic #resident evil village #gore #blood

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midday0nightmares · 3 years

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20 - 10th of may (m).

previous chapter his revenge.

m.list.

warnings: this series contains themes of yandere\mafia, blood, violence, mental health, drugs, non-con.

author note: this is pure fiction and it is not intended to romanticize any of the situations mentioned bellow.

Waking up in his bed, surrounded by his musky scent, soaking in his warmth, you don’t open your eyes yet as you roll towards the man next to you, wanting to snuggle deeper into him, but he throws the covers off flooding you with the unwelcome cold air as he gets up.

You can’t help but to frown at the lose of his warmth, he doesn’t notice you yet.

You hug the soft duvet, bringing it closer to your nose to enjoy the remains of his smell, he goes through getting ready to start his day, his wild bed-hair and puffy face completely melts your heart, it is official, you are in love.. or maybe just needy and half asleep.

He comes out of the bathroom, face washed, teeth brushed, shirt off.. your breathing wavers and you squeeze your legs in a weak attempt to calm the pulsating heat in your core, the cotton shorts hung too low on his toned waits, showcasing the hairy trail that dips under the waistband, his toned chest and board shoulders making your mouth waters, you want him with every fiber in you, you want him in you in any way he choses, you just want him.

He continues to get dressed, he catches your dazed eyes staring at him in the mirror and he only chuckles, you comply to the urge to hide your face as a shy blushes blooms over it.

He clasps his watch and tightens his necktie before he turns and looks you straight, your heart inflates and your skin tingles awaiting his touch. he walks towards you and you roll on your back to open yourself to him, hopefully he’ll come closer. he removes the covers off of you and indulge himself in your body, his eyes follows every curved lined your body makes, your feminine ego flourish under his hungry gaze, he smirks at your restless thighs, how they were rubbing against each other.

His hand land on your bent knee and slides down your thigh, barley touching you spreading goosebumps all over, you relaxes your legs to welcome the long waited attention but he ignores the invitation and ghosts his fingers over your hip bone up your stomach to in between your breasts to finally stops when they grab your cheeks, your hands snake around his arm, desperately clinging to him, you chase your breaths as lust rages inside of you, he awaits for your eyes to sober and focus on him, he leans down closer to your face, and you close your eyes eager for his lips to kiss your, but they don’t. he shakes your head by the hand that was still firmly holding your cheeks, his fingers tightens on your jaw “open..” His commands you, his eyes glued to your lips, you open your mouth without hesitation. “wider” his fingers digs into the soft flesh, and when you do he spits into your mouth, the act catching you by surprise for a split second before instinct takes over and you melt his spit over your tongue before you swallow it. He lets go of you, satisfied with your reaction “behave while I’m gone” his authoritative tone sends shivers down your spine, he makes you feel small as he straightens his tall stature above you, everything about him tambours with your heartbeat, he pulls his arm out of your grasp discarding your unvocalized protests, and just like that he was gone.

His tastes still lingers in your mouth, sweet as ever, you were reduced to a needy mess, wanting nothing more than to be used, consumed and ruined by him, you were his obedient girl who will wait for him.

You tossed and turned in his sheets, head swimming with thoughts of him until you slipped back to sleep.

When you woke up, you pushed the embarrassment at your behavior this morning and got up.

now that your head had cleared up thanks to the strong bitter taste of the coffee, you couldn’t help the thousand questions from poping in your mind about last night, you realized how little you actually know about them and you took it as your next mission, to collect information about the “enemy”.. after all, knowledge is power right? right.

You go back to jaemin’s room to start looking for clues, you skip the locked safe as you have zero chance in opening it, you try his computer but it’s locked with password, you try to think of any names or numbers that might hold any significance to him but you don’t even know his birthday so how would you know, you abandon it and turn to his drawers, you go through them one by one, nothing.

you ask yourself where would someone hide thier important belongs? You look around the room wondering, until under his bed comes in view, you get on your knees and pear under it and you find it. A dusty shoe box, you take it out, it looks old and abandoned, you open it and to your disappointment it is filled with first aids, but before you close the lid something catches your attention, you almost missed it, an old diary book.

You take it out and open it, most of the pages are untouched and the ones that are used have meaningless scrambles that looks like someone would mindlessly make, you flip through it and a picks of folded news paper that falls out of it, you open it and it is a news article, the titles reads ,

“The Wife of A Drug Lord Was Found Dead”

It can’t be his mother, can it? The date on the article is may 10th 2020, an exact year before you were brought here, your eyes skim through the lines of the long paragraph,

“... she was found dead in front of her apartment building. Her death was caused by serious craniocerebral injuries mainly due to the sever impact after falling from high place, followed by... she developed mental illness after her child birth..neighbors refused to corporate .. one suspect was brought into questioning, but there was no sufficient evidences to charge him.. her death was rolled as suicide.. no suicide note was found”

The article ends, you still in shock of what you’ve just read. A rush of dreadful emotions washs over you as you try to blink away the tears that were forming in your eyes. your heart breaks for him, no one deserves to go through this type of pain.

You fold it and put everything back into its place, deciding you have had enough information for today, guilt bubbling in your stomach as you contact the dots as to why he reacted the way he did when you were talking about the cat that have jumped off of the balcony, your stupid imagination dug up a the painful memory of his late mother, poor jaemin.

When they return, jaemin corners you in the hallway, before he whispers to you "have you been behaving?"..

the blood rushing to your cheeks turning them red, you avoid his shameless eyes and nod, your heartbeat races in excitement, the familiar fire of desire rages yet again,

"yeah? let me check.." he slips his hand into your panties to be met with sticky mess, product of his doing .. “jaemin, not here jeno can see us” you try to push his hand away but he doesn’t move an inch, instead pushing himself closer to you. “let him see” his voice is muffled by your neck “let him see what a dirty girl you are” he bites your neck and starts massaging your swelling clit, your knees almost betray, you claw his shoulders silently begging him for more, but again he withdraw his hand and laughs at your frustrated whine.

#nct yandere #nct dream #nct mafia #nct smut #nct jaemin #nct reactions #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct blurbs

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sluttbuttsstuff · 3 years

Text

Hucow!AU Part 5 (FINALE!!!)

WOOHOO!! It’s finally Bruno’s turn, I saved best boy for last. All parts combined in gdocs are 29 pages total, this is def the longest thing i’ve written in over a decade!! I hope you enjoy, and look forward to whatever i decide to write next

thanks, and enjoy!

as always. credit goes to @dark-side-blog2 for the wonderful hucow! au

WARNINGS: not sfw, yandere, duncon, noncon, sleep fucking, force feeding, manipulation, dark themes, afab reader, she/her pronouns, all characters 18+!!

After taking care of Narancia and tucking him into bed, Bruno returned to your room once more. You slept like the dead, worn out from a long night. Bruno smiled proudly, you had been wonderful for them. Each bull, you had accepted their love, their passion, their essence and earned your place in the herd once again. It filled Bruno with such joy, knowing that you were the perfect mate for them, for all of them.

You were caring and kind for Narancia, playful and fun for Mista, calming and gentle for Fugo, accepting and attentive for Abbacchio. And for Bruno: you were everything. For so long, there had been a piece of the puzzle missing in his life. He had a family with no mother, no children.

Bruno had met you first in a very dark part of his life-his herd was beaten, driven from his home in fear, on the brink of death with no hope. And then, you had appeared, an angel hidden away in paradise, offering safety, shelter. Much more than that, even, with a little bit of convincing, and a lot of planning. He would have his family, his children, and you.

Bruno knew how to play the long game, how to strategize and manipulate, but he only did it for good reason. He had to, you were too prideful, too stubborn to realize how much you needed him. You were running a giant farm several acres large by yourself, no employees, relatives or neighbors to help. Bruno couldn’t have that,now could he? He and the other bulls took over the hard work and heavy lifting-eventually, after a lot of hemming and hawing from you. Bruno managed to talk you into it; it was beneficial for both of you, a way for the bulls to earn their keep and for you to get some help.

The bulls helped with Bruno’s plan as well, in their own ways. Mista put his cooking skills to use, making you healthy meals infused with lackweed (Mulgeo, a plant that encouraged your body to lactate) and pills that increased your sexual urges. He’d even been adding charcoal to your meals to cancel out your birth control; it wasn’t necessary, Bruno had gotten rid of your birth control months ago while you were asleep, but Bruno appreciated it nonetheless.

Narancia had gotten you to warm up to them very quickly, being as innocent and naive as he was, and Bruno was able to use him to display his parenting skills. Yes, Narancia was a grown bull, and mostly treated as such, but he was still the youngest, and hard not to spoil. Plus, the way you seemed to light up when Bruno would baby Narancia- it was clear your maternal instincts were awakening. Good! It was excellent practice for your own children.

Fugo was admittedly the most awkward around you, it wasn’t really his fault, though. He had the least experience out of the bulls with women, but Bruno could tell his true feelings about you. So, he encouraged Fugo to show his strengths to you; mainly his brain. There was an old tractor collecting rust that needed repairs, and you had lost several crops last season due to lack of irrigation. Fugo was able to repair them, thanks to researching some books and some help from you. Plus, it was one less job for you to do, and another reason for you to depend on them. Bruno knew Fugo was nervous, but Bruno was certain he’d be a good mate and husband. He would make their children very smart.

Abbacchio could be a little rough around the edges, it's true, but he clearly had a soft spot for you. While he would smack Mista and Narancia around when they got on his nerves or got ornery, you he respected and let a lot slide. Bruno had seen you tug on his tail (admittedly by accident) , elbow him (after a funny joke), and even put flowers (that he was allergic to!) in his hair! Abbacchio had taken it in stride, and even defended you when Mista’s teasing or the other shenanigans went too far. Plus, Abbacchio’s skills as a lockpick let them sneak into your house when you were away or sleeping. Very useful indeed…

Bruno knew he had to share you, as much as he wanted you for his own. He couldn’t hurt his herd, his brothers, who loved you almost as much as he did. So Bruno was patient, he let them have their turns first, keep the peace….

But Bruno couldn’t wait any longer.

The timing had to be perfect, to ensure he had the best chances. He had snuck into your home months before, stealing and disposing of your birth control, and destroying your refill prescription. Thankfully you were too busy and preoccupied to make a new appointment with the doctor for new medication, which Bruno appreciated greatly. Digging through your trash, he was able to record and determine your cycle, in order to find out when you would be most fertile. He would allow his herd many things,including you.

But his child would be first.

Letting the others go first- he allowed it before you were truly in heat. They didn’t know why, but were grateful nonetheless, eager to claim you.

He pulled back your blankets, after making sure you were deep in R.E.M. sleep. Birds started chirping as dawn rose outside, but you were dead to the world. So much, in fact, that when Bruno pulled back your bed sheets you didn’t so much as flinch. You were still nude, too tired to put your pajamas back on last night; Bruno admired the early morning light glowing on your body. Bruno kissed down your face and body everywhere the sun touched, relieved you were still asleep. Bruno made note of every bruise and marking on your skin to treat later that morning, as he went lower and lower down your body. Spreading your legs, you tasted divine. You were definitely ready, too: now would be his best chance.

Licking the others out of your core, he heard you quietly whimper- he paused, waiting for you to stir, but you eventually drifted back to sleep. You always were cute when you slept, the way you would sometimes talk in your sleep or kick your legs “Running.” Bruno had learned a lot observing you, and intended to learn a lot more from you today. He cleaned you out with his tongue and prepped you thoroughly-maybe it was petty of him, saving you all for himself, but Bruno was the alpha bull, and the perfect mate for you. That’s why it was so important to not just get you pregnant, but pregnant with his children. It’s what you, the both of you deserved.

Once Bruno was certain you were ready ( you were still soft and wet from last night, and pleasantly warm against his tongue and fingers) he leaned over you, pulling your legs up against his shoulders into a mating press. It terrified him how easily you slept, how dangerous it would be if his herd hadn’t found you. What if someone else had found you before them, taken you like this in your sleep? It worried him so, that’s why he had to do this, claim you and protect you from any rivals.

Bruno stroked your cheek, before pressing inside. Finally, after all this time, he was inside of you, warm and wonderful and all his. You squirmed in your sleep,but otherwise accepted him without complaint. Bruno was so happy he could cry, he settled for kissing your shoulder as he pushed into the hilt. Bruno couldn’t hold his urges back any longer, he thrust into you again and again, hitting against your sweet spot. You cried out in your sleep, jumbled noises Bruno convinced himself were his name. In this position, he was able to reach so deep, force himself as far inside as he could reach.

His grip on you tightened, feeling the strain of the position, the slap of his balls on your ass fueling his desire more. But it wasn’t enough, he had to make sure you felt good too. He suckled your chest, licking your nipples the way he had seen you enjoy. Your pussy was so wet he was able to rub slick onto your hard throbbing clit, careful to rub the raw skin gently.

“Y/n, I’m so thankful to have found you, finally we can make our dreams come true~” Bruno whispered to you, desperate for you to know the feelings he’d held back for so long.

“I can hardly hold back with you; I’ve been waiting so long for this, and I can tell now that so have you. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you, we all will. Just give in, you can trust me.” Bruno pleaded, close to the edge. Bruno grit his teeth, it was about to end, all too soon. Bruno wasn’t ready, he wanted to stay like this with you forever. Relief washed over Bruno as he heard you cry out in release, tightening around him and bringing him to release.

“I’m cumming, y/n. Please, accept all of me!” He gasped,spilling his seed inside. Tears Bruno had held back spilled down as his emotions overcame him, something he would only allow to happen while you couldn’t see. He was certain this was the right thing to do, now more than ever. You were his, all of theirs, safe and protected.

In the next months, you would become full with child. Naturally, you would have to stop manual labor-which would be fine, you could depend on your sturdy bulls to run the farm for you. And then when you had their children, you would need to raise them. Obviously, you had five capable mates to help you; taking turns feeding them, staying up on long sleepless nights, teaching them right from wrong. So many precious memories to be made with you, Bruno could

hardly wait.

As Bruno turned to leave you to rest, he saw you start to rise.

“...Bruno?” You called weakly, and Bruno was by your side in an instant.

“Y/n? What’s wrong, you’re up so early?” Bruno asked, concerned.

“...It’s hot” you groaned, reaching out for him. Bruno’s heart fluttered, you called out for him. He felt your forehead; admittedly sweaty, but not necessarily from illness.

“You are a little warm. Let’s get you out of these sweaty blankets and cleaned up.” Bruno helped you out of your sheets, and ran to get a damp washcloth. He returned quickly, sitting on your bed and wiped the cloth over your body. Your body flushed, and whenever you thought Bruno wasn’t looking, you would glance over at him. Bruno smiled to himself, you really were spoiling him this morning-he couldn’t be more delighted.

“Are you feeling any better? You should take it easy today, you had a long night.” Bruno said as he washed your stomach.

“Umm, yes, im-ahh!” You jumped, as Bruno’s wash cloth reached your nether regions.

“Relax, bella, It’s important to clean this area as well. We don’t want you getting sick now do we?” Bruno continued, unfazed by your reaction. You fidgeted a moment longer, but considering all that had happened, you relented. What more could Bruno do to you?

He toweled you off quickly, patting you dry and then headed to your closet.

“Let’s find you something extra comfortable to wear today, shall we?” Bruno asked, flipping through your hangers. What a shame, most of your outfits were utilitarian and industrial, not befitting a mother to be.

“Oh, Bruno, you don’t have to-” You began, but Bruno cut you off.

“Here we go, perfect! Ah, and this shade of lavender will look lovely on you!” Bruno proclaimed, holding up a flowery sundress made of soft cotton. Very comfortable, but not the best for farm work. Bruno couldn’t be stopped though, grabbing some undergarments for you (how did he know where you kept them?) and helped you sit up in bed.

“Let’s get you dressed, as much as I love the thought of having you nude all day, nothing will get done around the farm with the boys fawning over you.” Bruno chuckled, sliding socks onto your feet for you.

“Bruno, please! I can dress myself!” You pleaded, trying to pull away, but Bruno stopped you with gentle but firm hands.

“Bella, please-let me take care of you the way you’ve taken care of us. It’s only fair, isn’t it?” Bruno smiled, tugging your socks up to your ankles. He held a white pair of panties out for you, “Step in, dear, one foot at a time” You groaned, turning an adorable shade of red Bruno loved, but did indeed let him slide the panties up and onto you. He convinced you to skip a bra today (Bruno wasn’t completely selfless) and slip into the sundress, snug as a bug.

“Much better! Now, do you want to see if you can get some more sleep? You didn’t get many hours of sleep last night, and your body must be very sore.” He asked you, stroking your cheek. “Well, maybe later, but-” You began, only to be interrupted by your growling stomach. Bruno chuckled, “Ahh, of course, let’s get you fed shall we?” he winked, placing a hand on the small of your back and escorting you to the kitchen.

You tried to make yourself breakfast, really you did, but Bruno wasn’t giving you any leeway this morning.

“Please, Bambina, let me cook for you. You always make the rest of us meals, and I’m not completely hopeless in the kitchen.” He told you, sitting you on a kitchen chair, rolling up his sleeves. True to his word, he was decent in the kitchen-more than decent, in fact. Bruno fried up a pig’s worth of bacon, crispy and fried with a sprinkle of cinnamon. Eggs, sunny-side scrambled and over-easy, just a little bit runny and fresh from your henhouse. And the cru-de-ta, a mountain-pile of fluffy home batter pancakes, smothered in homemade syrup and creamy smooth butter dollops piled on top. Bruno piled your plate to the brim, sure to give you only the crunchiest bacon strips and roundest pancakes, with plenty left over for the boys. It was a miracle the other boys hadn’t woken up yet, but you supposed they were still wiped out from the night before and needed a little more rest.

Bruno didn’t mind one bit, enjoying the one on one time with you he rarely got. Sitting patiently for him like a good mate, letting him clean you, dress you, even feed you. Bruno was determined to spoil you, so you would never want for anything other than him again. Looking around your plate, you asked Bruno, “Sorry, but you forgot to grab a fork and knife. Would you mind?”

Bruno smiled, unblinkingly, “Oh no, I didn’t. Open wide~” He cooed, stacking a silver fork full of your breakfast. You looked at him incredulously, “Seriously?”

Bruno didn’t relent, smile unwavering, “You wouldn’t turn down all my hard work and this delicious food, would you?”

You wanted to argue with him, you really did. For every inch he gave you, he took a mile, and it was starting to be humiliating. But for whatever reason, Bruno always made you cave. Besides, after everything you’d been through, he’d never hurt you, always gentle and caring. So, against your better judgement, you sheepishly opened your mouth for him.

Bruno lifted the fork into your mouth, watching your lips close around his fork. You savored the buttery rich flavor of the pancakes, the spongy texture bouncing lightly in your mouth as you chewed. To say it was delicious would be an understatement; you were starting to consider letting Mista and Bruno handle mealtime more often. Bruno bit the corner of his lip, watching you eat your meal. You wanted to pout, not give Bruno the satisfaction of knowing you enjoyed being babied like this, but you couldn’t help smiling as you swallowed bite after bite, opening your mouth and even leaning forward. Each bite was better than the last; the salty sweet bacon grease and runny eggs soaked into the pancakes, soaking up the flavor medley and sending your palette into overdrive.

Bruno loved every minute, watching you let your guard down for him, licking up syrup from your chin, even letting him wipe your cheek clean with a napkin. Your stomach puffed out as you ate through your meal, it excited him to know he did that to you, and that your stomach would soon be even more distended and full with his baby. Your plate was nearly clean, but you didn’t think you could eat another bite. Bruno had given you so much already, and it was all delicious and rich, and had no more room.

“Please, Bruno, I’m full to the brim. I’m sorry but I can’t eat anymore.” You groaned, clutching your stomach.

“Oh please, just another bite, bambina~ you’ve done so well, you’re almost done.” He cooed, forking the last bits on your plate. You tried to excuse yourself, but Bruno stuffed it into your open unsuspecting mouth. You nearly choked on the utensil forcing your way into your mouth, a sugary syrupy mess that was starting to nauseate you. It was too much, too rich, but Bruno held your mouth shut.

“Please, y/n, you have to eat more. Think of our children, won’t you?” You froze, as you remembered everything that had happened last night with a wave. You looked at Bruno, mouth still full and ready to vomit. His gaze tore into you, more serious than he had been all morning. In fact, the last time he looked at you like that…

Bruno rubbed your back, as your eyes watered and spilled over. Poor thing, were you already having morning sickness? No worries, it was only natural; he would take care of you. You were having trouble breathing, not sure if it was the food or the panic setting in.

“Come on Bambina, you’re almost done. Just swallow it all down, you can do it~” Bruno hissed, as he plugged up your nose. Bruno sighed, watching your eyes bug out; he didn’t want to be harsh with you, but what other choice were you giving him? You needed to follow his orders, that’s how he kept you safe and happy. “Now, y/n”

Despite the lump in your throat, you had no choice but to swallow, the lack of oxygen making you gag. How could you forget who you were dealing with? How could you let him take advantage of you again and again? You wiped the snot and tears from your face, catching your breath. You flinched as a familiar hand reached out and grabbed your chin. Bruno turned you to look at him, his face calm and smiling as if nothing had happened.

“There, Bambina, that wasn’t so bad was it? You have to let me take care of you, okay? We don’t want you hurting yourself do we?” He asked, voice soft and patronizing, like he hadn’t just force fed you against your will. You wanted to run away, but didn’t know where to go. It didn’t help any as you heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

“Yo, y/n! You’re up already? I thought we wiped you out last night!”

“Guess we’ll have to try harder next time.”

“Are you okay, y/n? You look ill. Maybe you should go back to bed.”

“Ohh, it smells so good! Did you make breakfast for us, y/n?”

You were surrounded. No way out. Five strong angry bulls that had taken over your life, your home, even your body. You couldn’t trust them, not any of them. There was no escape.

“What’s wrong, bella? Are you crying?”

“Don’t cry, y/n! There’s nothing to worry about, we’ll take care of you!”

“You can count on us, y/n. We’re mates, after all.”

You were trapped.

Trapped.

You opened your mouth to scream, but it was no use.

It’s not like anyone would hear you, anyways

END

#sluttbuttsstuff #fic #not sfw #hucow!au #yandere #bruno #brunoxreader

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xxreader-writerxx · 3 years

Text

Red Haired Boy

Word Count: 3.6k (sorry got carried away)

Fred Weasley x Fem Reader

Warnings: PTSD, mentions of death (happy ending tho), panic attack, graphic violence at parts, mentions of blood, cursing (maybe?), tell me if I need to add anything

Y/N= Your Name L/N= Your Last Name Y/H= Your House Y/N/N= Your nickname

I get shoved sideways by a red haired boy and run into the wall. I let out a small gasp feeling my shoulder run into a sharp brick. I hold the cut with tears in my eyes. I see the boy turn around and run back worried. "Bloody hell! I'm so so sorry!" He tells me and I shake my head firmly. "It's alright." I mumble trying to make it seem like I'm not crying. "No it's not, you're bleeding!" He tells me and I see another boy run and stop seeing us. "Fred! He's on my tail!" He tells him tugging his arm. "Go on then! I need to handle something!" He tells him angrily getting his arm free. "Whatever..." The other boy mutters. "Does it hurt?" He asks and I shake my head shyly. "No... I'm fine. Really."

"WEASLEY!" I hear and see its our groundskeeper. "I'm going to enjoy this one..." He mutters to himself as he pulls the boy by his arm harshly. I look at him and he looks sad but smiles weakly at me. "AH MY ARM. OH IT HURTS!" I say not thinking. "What?!" He asks and I clutch my arm. "AH HELP HELP!" I yelp and he drops Fred, as soon as he's freed I silently tell him to run and he smiles at me. He runs and Filch is still distracted by my wailing. I stand straight and smile. "Its gone now. I think I just need to get patched up." I say calmly, walking to the infirmary.

"What do you mean?" I hear as I get wrapped up by Madam Pomfrey. "It was bloody amazing. She started screaming her arm hurt and let me run off!" A nearly identical voice replies. "Well good for her but karma must've came to bite you." The voice replies. "Yeah... But- No way! It's her!" He says and I look up to see the boy I helped earlier. "Hey- What happened!?" I ask seeing his eye covered in blood. "When he was running he was distracted and fell face first into a statue, cut his eyebrow pretty good." His identical brother tells me. "Oh no!" I say and he walks over and Madam Pomfrey groans.

"Sit there, I'll be back in a moment... Foolish boy..." She mutters and he hops up next to me. "Fred Weasley." He introduces and I smile shyly, shaking his hand. "Y/n, Y/n L/n..."

"I wanted to say thank you, for not only saving me but I also wanted to say thank you for saving me despite me hurting you." He tells me shyly and I smile. "My pleasure."

***

I wake up to my boyfriend kissing my shoulder as I sleepily wake up. "Hi baby..." I whisper groggily. "Hi darling..." He smiles at me and I notice he's kissing my scar from how we met. He places his cheek against mine as I wrap his arms around me. "Whatcha thinking about?" I ask and he sighs. "I never payed you back for saving me the day you got this..." He tells me and I laugh. "How bout..." I say pushing him lightly so I'm on top. "Five minutes, whenever I choose to use it, you have to do whatever I want." I whisper and he smiles cheekily. "Yes ma'am..." He tells me and I chuckles. "Yay that one day I will be doing no dishes." I tell him and he scoffs. "I was thinking something more sexual but ok." He tells me and I kiss his nose.

***

I look around frantically for my loved ones, happy I am a half witch so my family isn't here, blood related though. I look for the Weasley Family trying to see through the falling dust and rubble. I see a messy ginger hair and get excited. I limp over as quickly and see its not my Weasley but Percy. He's screaming for help. I ignore the pain coursing through me and run the best I can.

He's digging through rubble and I freeze in fear. "W-who is that?" I ask seeing a hand underneath it all. "JUST HELP!" He screams and I rush over moving each piece of rubble. I finally help drag the body out. I lay him on me to support his head and moves his hair from his eyes. "Freddie?" I ask softly and he looks at me smiling. "Hey..." He barely says and he gasps slightly for air. "Hey, stay awake for me... Percy get help, he's bleeding a lot..." I cry and he runs. I feel Fred's weak and cold hand wrap around mine. "I hoped you were in my last moments ya know?" He tells me smiling, tears brimming in his eyes.

"Well let that be another day. Freddie you are going to stay alive you idiot." I tell him chuckling through my worry, combing his hair lightly. "I want you to be happy. Don't wait for me to come back. Find someone who makes you happy. Alright?" He asks and I scoff. "I would if you were dying. But you aren't." I sob and he holds my hand. "You'll be ok..." He whispers closing his eyes but I grab his head shaking my own. "Hey remember the time we met?" I ask smiling at him and he nods smiling. "You cut my shoulder so deep and I saved you minutes later, remember that?" I ask and he scoffs leaning his head back weakly. "Didn't think my last moments would be getting guilt tripped." He tells me and gasps at a pain in his side. "Well because of that you told me you would give me five minutes of anything I wanted. I want to have five minutes, after this war, dancing with you. You understand? I want to get married and dance for five minutes." I demand and he chuckles, then cringes at the pain.

Wizards swarm us and help him onto a stretcher as we finally let go of each other's hands. People help me up saying I need to heal my injuries. I keep my eyes on him scared..

***

Three months.

Three fucking months and nothing is better. They said it would be better by now. But I still miss him, miss my fiancé. He died shortly after I saw him. His dead body being the only thing on my mind every single day. Today I need to collect his belongings so I throw myself out of bed sadly. I walk out to the room to the empty, quiet, kitchen. I look for my mug and think George must have put it away when he was cleaning. The twin of my passed fiancé constantly stops by to help around the house, he says it helps pass the time.

I climb on the ladder and see he just put it far back in the shelf. I look right above it and look at it shocked. It's Fred's mug.

I hold it and tear up. "Why couldn't you stay? You promised you would stay! You promised! Wh-why did I have to loose you?!" I scream and fall to my knees feeling my heart crumble. "You promised..." I whisper against the mug. I put it down and feel the ground rumble from the nearby train. I ignore it until it makes my mug fall from the counter and drop on Fred's. "No... No no no no no..." I sob picking up the pieces.

George's POV:

I walk into the building to see Y/n yelling at the landlord angrily. "NO YOU CALM DOWN GARRETT! THAT BLOODY TRAIN BROKE MY FIANCE'S MUG! HE FOUGHT IN A WAR YOU WOULD NEVER IMAGINE! HIS MUG IS IRREPLACEABLE! HE FOUGHT DEATHEATERS! DID YOU FIGHT DEATHEATERS GARRETT?! NO! SO YOU WILL GET THAT BLOODY BLOODY TRAIN TO STOP OR PUT A DAMN SPELL ON THIS BUILDING SO I DON'T HAVE TO THINK I AM ON A CRUISE EVERYTIME IT PASSES!" She yells at him holding a bag to her chest, tears streaming down her face. I grab her arms holding them to her chest as she continues to yell at him. "Sorry mate its just a horrible day." I explain as I wrestle her into the lift. "Y/N!" I yell at her and she sobs clutching the bag. "All I had left George! I didn't even know I had it! And it was gone just like he's gone! It was practically a reenactment!" She cries and I hold her close. I kiss the top of her head knowingly.

"He's gone!" She sobs and I nod not wanting to add to it. As much as I miss Fred, she misses him more. She has had everyone in her life leave her and he was all she had besides our family but we weren't even close to him. She trusted him with her life and it was ripped away so quickly. Her love for him was more than a man could describe.

"Let's get you washed up..." I whisper and she nods silently.

***

Fred's POV:

I limp inside the home I once knew and look for my mother, brother, anyone. I can barely see through my bloody hair that has overgrown. I climb the stairs harshly noting the pain in my ribs. I open my room and everything is empty on my side. I walk over to George's bed and nothing. "Mum?" I barely croak. I keep searching ignoring the pain.

I hear a teacup fall and break behind me, I whip around to see my mother as pale as possible. "George? What's wrong?!" She asks and I try to smirk. "Mum wrong twin, but before I yell at you about that I need to find- well myself..." I say drawing my wand. "What? George are you alright? Please don't tell me my boy is gone too." She whimpers. "Mum, where have you last seen me, or well Fred?" I ask and she walks over, tears filling her eyes. "Georgie... Fred died. You remember don't you?" She whispers, combing my hair, I nearly relax at the sensation, haven't been able to see my mother in a year. Only being tortured.

"Mum? I died?" I ask and she sobs, holding me. "C'mon Georgie! Don't tell me we have to go back to St. Mungo's!" She sobs into my chest. "What?! George went to St. Mungo's?!" I ask getting worried. "Oh Godric... Georgie! Y/n! She snapped! Please stop this!" She cries and I freeze. "What do you mean mum?" I ask and she cries more. "You know what happened!" She clutches my shirt tightly. "Mum!" I say grabbing her wrists. "It. Is. Fred. I have been tortured for a year. I need to go find Georgie and Y/n. Where's my girl?" I ask getting worried. She places a hand on my cheek and looks at me carefully. "Freddie?" She asks and I nod, cupping her hand. "Yes mum. Freddie. Can you heal me up and show me where my girl and twin is? I haven't seen them in so long, I miss them." I ask and she smiles. "ARTHUR COME HERE!" She yells as she helps me to the den.

***

I walk into George's apartment with him and my parents slowly. "Why's she living here?" I ask and George sighs. "Please be calm alright?" He asks and I nod. He unlocks the door and looks around. "Y/n?" He calls and sighs. "Don't know why I try anymore..." He whispers mostly to himself. "Please show her slowly George. We can't have her getting worse." My mum tells him and he nods.

I walk into a room across from his and see her laying on her bed. "Hey Y/n! Got you a surprise..." George says and points to the corner. "Let me get her used to seein me first." He whispers and I look at him confused. She turns around and smiles at him silently. "Still no talking?" He asks and she tears up. "It's alright. Can you trust me real quick?" He asks and she nods confused. My heart breaks seeing her, she looks broken.

"C'mere Fred..." He tells me and she whips her head around. I walk over and she tears up. "No..." She whispers and I back away. "Hey Lovey..." I whisper. "You're dead." she tells me and I chuckle. "Turns out. A lot of people think that..." I joke and she walks over. She pokes my chest and I poke her shoulder playfully. "What was that for?" I ask joking and she says nothing but wrap her arm around me.

"Hey Y/n/n, want some tea and we can explain?" George asks and she nods. "Alright me and Fred-" He begins but she shakes her head, holding me tighter like a toddler with a teddy. "I want Fred to stay." She says and I kiss her head. "Y/n, you need to change." He tells her and she grips on my shirt. "I want Fred to stay." She repeats and he sighs. "George. She can just change while I'm turned around. I don't think she'll let me leave, right lovey?" I ask and she nods, nuzzling her face into my shirt. "He'll leave again." She states and I kneel. "Never again. I promise." I tell her and she starts to cry. "You said that." She tells me and my heart breaks. "I know, but this year was temporary. I promise." I tell her.

George finally leaves and she changes as quickly as possible and races back to hug me again. I pick her up and she stays hugging me. "Freddie..." She whispers and I nod. "I gotcha baby." I tell her and she shoves her head in the crook of my neck.

I sit down and George is tearing up. "You got her to talk." He tells me and I look at her confused. "What do you mean?" I ask and he wipes his face. "She was ok at first... Then she saw a Scrapbook of you guys. She realized that you were actually well- You know what I mean. And she stopped talking. We brought her to St. Mungo's in hope she'd start talking but after a month I just took her in here. Hoping one day she'd talk again. Then you came back. She talked for the first time today. Only because she saw you." He explains. "Your turn." She says and I nod, rubbing circles on her back.

"They thought us twins were the only two who were important enough to be in the army but slightly unimportant to kidnap one and try to get answers. They replaced me with a soldier using Polyjuice. Luckily... I had the memory of you guys keeping me strong." I explain kissing her neck. I feel tears on my shoulder and I move to see her face. "What's wrong lovey?" I ask and she hides in my neck again. "My fault." She cries into my neck. "Hey... What do you mean?" I ask and she nuzzles her face into my neck. "I didn't notice..." She cries and I kiss her neck up and down softly. "No baby, they took some of my memories so it would be impossible to not notice." I explain and she holds me tightly. "But I love you so much. I should've." She explains, taking breaks, every time trying to remember a word or at least how to say it. "I'm going to pack her things, I think your flat will be more comfortable." George says and I nod.

"I'm sorry." She mumbles and I kiss her again. "Me too..." I whisper.

***

"Good morning darling." I say as I sit on the couch next to Y/n. She smiles at me slightly and I grab the newspaper. "Want me to read for you?" I ask and she nods, laying on my lap. I run my fingers through her hair as I read the news, showing her the cartoons. I'm smiling and laughing for her until she gets up and grabs a grape. She eats it and I pop up straight. "Sorry did you want that?" She asks and I smile at her. I kiss her all over her face and she giggles. I start kissing her even more causing more giggles. The sound I haven't heard in two years, right before the war.

"Freddie!" She giggles and I smile at her with the dopiest smile I can muster. "I love your laugh..." I sigh and she smiles at me. I get a call and answer it seeing its George.

"Hey could you come down to the shop? Ron set off fireworks after falling and there might be a hole near your office. We tried fixing it but your Magic Blocker is being a pain" He tells me and I sigh. "Alright coming. You two are very much interrupting the best day of my life." I say kissing the crown of Y/n's head. "Why? What happened?" He asks and I smile at the girl in my hold. "Y/n both ate and I heard that gorgeous giggle of hers." I say smiling proudly at Y/n. She blushes slightly and I kiss her nose.

I get up to change with Y/n following closely behind after hanging up and change in our shared room as she fiddles with the sensory knickknacks. With my ADHD and her PTSD we got them to keep our minds healthy. I laugh when she throws the dollar bill squishy at me playfully. I pick it up and she smirks at me. "Pass me my wallet." She tells me and I sigh knowing what I'm getting myself into. I toss her the wallet and she opens it looking for something.

I continue getting dressed when I feel a coin hit my back. "Hey! Dollar bills!" I say tossing the coin back. "I see no such rule." She replies and I smile. "How can you annoy the hell out of me but make me fall so much harder..." I mumble and she smiles. "Its cause I pay good." She quips, tossing a coin at me. I finally get my belt fixed and I walk over. I pick her up and drop her onto our bed. I kiss her neck and she giggles as I tickle her lightly. "I love you so much..." I whisper and she kisses my cheek. "Not as much as I love you." She whispers back.

I get fully dressed and I watch as she disappears into the closet and returns, first eyes searching for me quickly and when she finds me she walks over hugging me. "Ready to go?" I ask and she nods.

Y/n's POV:

I walk into the shop with Fred as we walk out into the streets of Diagon Alley. "Busy street today." He mutters worried and I nod, holding onto his hand tightly. "Don't worry. If we lose each other, meet me at the shop. You know the way." He tells me and I nod silently.

We set off and halfway I lose him in the crowd. I look around scared. My heart beats faster and faster as the seconds pass. "Fred?" I say loudly and get no response. My heart starts to go faster than I've ever felt. "Fred?" I say, tears forming in my eyes.

What if he gets kidnapped again?

What if he's hurt?

What if I get kidnapped?

What if Fred has to go through the same as I did?

What if-

I rush to the shop and go into the bathroom, locking the door as I fall to the ground crying. My heart beating faster than it should. I try to breath but no air is allowed down my throat. Tears fall from my eyes and I cry harder.

I need to go back and look for him.

Stop being a coward.

He could be hurt.

God I can't move.

What if me being a coward causes the last of the Deatheaters kidnap him again?

I can't lose him-

"Y/n? Darling?" I hear and I wipe my tears, quickly standing up shakily. I unlock the door and smile at a distressed Fred. "Hey I just had to fix my makeup." I say and his frown deepens. "C'mere." He says holding his arms open. I stop before hugging him and take a step back. "How do I know?" I ask and he sighs. "I got some Veritaserum in the back if you'd like that." He tells me and I run into his arms, hugging him tightly. "I'm sorry." I cry softly into his chest and he kisses my head. "I'm here for you every step of the way. For better and worse." He whispers into my head softly.

"Now it's time to deal with my idiot brother's mistakes."

***

Fred comes into the apartment and smiles happily. "Lovey!!!" He says and I smile brightly at him. I hold up my now empty plate and he wraps his arms, one hand holding his briefcase, around me. "I made you some too!" I tell him and he looks at the coffee table. "I can't believe I was lucky enough to marry you..." He whispers in my ear and I smile. "I can agree." I tell him, kissing his nose. It's been two years since he got back and I finally got better. I started talking again, laughing, hugging, all because I had my loving husband next to me the whole time. I still have some issues with him leaving but not as bad as before.

"How was work?" I ask as he sits down, starting to eat. "Good. Missed you though." He tells me and I smile, laying on his lap as he devours his food. I unbutton his shirt and pull up the t-shirt underneath, I put my head under the cloth and kiss his scars lightly as he rubs my hair lightly. "I love you my crazy lady." He tells me and I pull my head away, smiling at him goofily. "I love you my red haired boy."

#fred weasley #canon #george weasley #fred and goerge weasley #fred and george #hermione granger #ron weasley #Fears #hogwarts #gryffindor #hufflepuff #ravenclaw #slytherin #smut x reader #fred weasley x reader

101 notes · View notes

omgrachwrites · 3 years

Text

Her Prince - Prince Hal

Pairing: Reader x Prince Hal (The Hollow Crown)

Summary: The man that comes to visit you at your woodland cottage - the man that you’re falling in love with - is a mystery. When you discover what he’s hiding from you, it turns your whole world upside down.

Warnings: fluff, angst, ooc Hal probs, mentions of blood

Words: 2569

Disclaimer: So, I know that none of this would ever happen but I’m a hopeless romantic?? Characters will be ooc probably

A/N: I promise that I will be getting back to my usual fics but I had a really shitty day in work and I had to make my self feel better. The Hollow Crown was one of Tom’s superior looks! Hope you guys enjoy and please let me know what you think, I love you all! xxx

I've been living to see you Dying to see you, but it shouldn't be like this This was unexpected, what do I do now? Could we start again please?

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

The day was swelteringly hot and you were in front of your woodland cottage, tending to your herb garden. You were the best healer in the village and the townspeople ventured out of the safe confines of their stone walls to come and seek an audience with you in your forest cottage. As you were tending to the thorned plants, your hand slipped and you near enough sliced your hand open.

You gasped out into the silent air as thick scarlet blood blossomed on your palm but before you could do much about it, you heard the gallop of horse hooves in the distance, getting closer with every breath you took. Then, he called out to you and your heart fluttered with anticipation.

“Good afternoon, Y/N,” he beamed as his horse came to a stop.

You blushed as you looked at Hal’s handsome face, he was handsome enough to be a Prince with his honey brown curls and sparkling blue eyes, “hello, Hal,” you smiled as you sat on your little stone wall, your legs hanging over the edge, “it’s nice to see that you’re not half dead this time,” you laughed, recalling the first time you met him. He’d been injured and if you’d waited longer to heal him then he’d be dead.

Hal sighed, teasingly as he dismounted from his horse, “must you always mention that every time I come to visit you?”

You laughed as you reached a leg out to lightly kick at his knee, “of course, I’m never going to let you forget it,” you smiled and he rolled his eyes. By the look of his flushed cheeks, he’d been riding a long way today and you thought that he might care for some refreshment, “would you like some water? Or milk and honey, perhaps, to cool you down?”

Hal smiled and opened his mouth to reply but he hesitated when he caught sight of your slashed palm. He tutted and reached out for your hand, running his gentle fingers over the cut, “you’re hurt,” he lifted his concerned eyes to meet yours and you bit your lip as your eyes dropped down to his lips for a split second.

“It’s alright,” you breathed, “it’s just a cut from some thorns.”

“Here,” Hal smiled as he reached into his satchel bag and pulled out some fresh smelling cloth, “I don’t think that my healing skills are quite up to the level of yours, but I always keep some with me, just in case,” he chuckled and wrapped your hand in the bandage.

It was so courteous of him that you couldn’t help but stare at him, flustered and searching for something – anything – to say, “I’ll go and fetch you that glass of water,” you laughed nervously as you turned away, grimacing when his pleasant laughter followed you into the cool interior of your cottage. It was such a relief to be out of that heat, if only for a couple of minutes.

Quickly, you poured him a tankard of water before walking out into the scorching sun again. Hal gave you a grateful smile as you handed him the water and he drained it in one swallow, gasping as he smacked his lips before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. You had to fight back a giggle.

“By God, I needed that, thank you, Y/N,” he smiled as he sat beside you on the small wall, his leg pressed against yours. Your cheeks flushed at his close proximity.

Over the few months that he had been coming to see you, you had grown to care for him, in fact you were falling in love with him. You wondered who he really was, “have you got an outing planned for tonight? I know that you prefer to collect your ingredients at night,” it was so nice that he’d remembered.

You bit your lip nervously as you tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You could hardly tell him that you were going to the Royal Palace, Hal had already expressed his distaste for King Henry and the Prince of Wales, you didn’t want him to think any less of you. The King had heard of your skills and he’d invited you to court to speak to you about taking the post of physician when his current one retired. You were very grateful that word of your skills had reached the King’s ears.

“No, no outings tonight,” you felt your cheeks grow hot and the lie tasted bitter on your tongue.

Hal sat on your stone wall with you, keeping you company for a little while longer, and when he took his leave, you sent him off with raspberry tartlets which you had drizzled with honey and baked golden brown. For as long as you lived, you would never forget the way he smiled at you so sweetly as he cupped your cheek, before he brushed his lips against yours, as gentle as a whisper.

When he pulled back to look at your reaction, your heart pounded so loudly in your chest that you were afraid that he’d heard it and you felt pleasant tingles all over your body. When he found no sign of hesitance – you would have to be a fool to reject him – he pulled you closer and kissed you deeper. You stood on your tiptoes to meet his kiss as you allowed your fingers to run through his curls as you kissed him in the peaceful little clearing. Long after Hal had left, your lips still tingled from the memory of his intoxicating kiss.

Later on that evening, you were being escorted down the never-ending hallways by a Palace guard – how people found their way around this castle, you had no idea – you were dressed finely for your audience with the King, a dress from green silk that you’d made yourself. You were so nervous and the guard must have sensed it because he gave you an encouraging smile.

“Everyone has is worrisome before meeting the King,” he chuckled, “the common folk prefer the Prince.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, “they do? I have never met him; will he be at court today?” you asked with interest.

“I think not, he’s been in the tavern often, of late.”

You grimaced to yourself, spending time in the tavern was not wise for the future King but you kept your thoughts to yourself. As you entered the Throne Room and saw the old proud King on his Throne, you wanted to bolt out the way you came in but you forced yourself forwards until you were kneeling at his feet.

“Your Majesty, thank you for seeing me,” you kept your head bowed as was the custom.

“Please, rise my child,” with a small smile, you got to your feet and looked at the King, “Miss Y/N, I have heard great tales of your skills and accomplishments. I believe you’ve healed quite a few soldiers in my army?”

“Yes, Your Majesty, they often come by my cottage, it’s the quickest path to the castle.”

“Quite,” the King nodded, “I thank you for your service, my physician has grown old and his methods are not what they used to be. If you would, return three days from now and we can truly see what you can do.”

A slight sting of annoyance shot through your body but you would never let it show on your face, you would rather show him now but to argue with the King was to wish for death. Before you could accept, the door to the right of you opened and the King sighed as he shook his head, you were too nervous to see who it was.

“Finally, my son, you need to extend your apologies to our guest for being late.”

“My apologies,” a soft distracted voice came to the right of you, the King gave the Prince a sharp look and the Prince of Wales sighed as he walked in front of you, “please accept my apologies, my lady,” when he looked at you, his eyes faltered and his mouth opened in surprise.

Tears sprang to your eyes as you practically felt your heart crack as you stared at Hal – your Hal – he was the Prince? Words couldn’t describe how you felt but if you had to use one word, it would be ‘betrayed.’

Keeping your voice steady, you looked back at the King, “may I have your leave to go, Your Majesty.”

“Of course,” the King inclined his head.

As soon as the King replied, you bowed once more and escaped from the room as quickly as you could without actually running. You heard Hal say something to his father before you heard his quick footsteps follow you, “Y/N!” you shook your head and kept walking, refusing to look back at him, you wouldn’t let him see you cry, “please!” his voice broke and you couldn’t help yourself, you had to stop and look at him.

Well, you didn’t look at him, you kept your eyes on the floor, “Your Majesty,” you mumbled as you saw Hal’s feet walking closer to you.

You felt a warm gentle hand on your chin and you allowed yourself to look at his face, he looked so apologetic and his eyes almost looked wet, “we should talk.”

“As Your Majesty wishes.”

Hal looked sick as he rubbed his thumb against your cheek, “please don’t call me that, nothing’s changed between us.”

“Nothing’s changed?!” your sadness quickly turned to anger and you momentarily forgot where you were, “everything’s changed! Why didn’t you tell me? By God!” you gasped as you slapped a hand to your forehead, “I’ve been rude to you! And you’re the crowned Prince! I kissed you!”

Hal bit his lip as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to treat me any differently, and technically, I kissed you,” he chuckled.

“Why?” you asked, holding back the tears, “why would you kiss me? Was it for something to laugh about with your noble friends,” your eyes went blurry as a wave of sadness washed over you.

“No, Y/N! Angel, no, I kissed you because I love you!”

Your heart stopped in your chest but it wasn’t from happiness, it was from overwhelming sadness, you would have longed to hear that just a few hours ago but now, you would rather that he didn’t say anything, “you can’t say that,” you shook your head as you backed away from him and Hal’s face fell, causing you to look away as you felt a stab of pain shoot through your heart.

“It doesn’t make it any less true,” he mumbled.

“I have to go,” you sighed as tears slid down your cheeks and ran over your lips, “goodbye, Your Highness,” walking away from him was the hardest thing you had ever done – especially when he was calling after you in that broken voice – but you had no other choice. He was the future King.

A year later, you were in your chambers at the palace, you hadn’t seen Hal since you had said goodbye to him. He’d been staying at his castle in Wales, though it wasn’t far away enough to make you forget about him. It was a particularly rainy day when your apprentice came bursting through the door with a shocked look on his face.

“Y/N! Y/N! Have you heard the news?” he was out of breath from running and it made you laugh.

“Calm down! What news?”

“The Prince is back, he’s in the tavern in the village, the word is that he’s abdicated the Throne for a peasant girl.”

You were so shocked that you dropped the empty beaker you were holding, letting it shatter across the ground, “are you,” you cleared your throat as you tried to gather your thoughts, “are you sure?” when Arthur nodded, you gulped and looked at him nervously. He’d probably abdicated the Throne for a pretty girl that he’d met in Wales but he used to love you and there was a sliver of hope in your chest, you had to go and see for yourself, “can you keep an eye on things here?”

“Yes, but where are you going?” Arthur frowned at you as you grabbed your cloak but you shook your head without another word.

Your riding had got much better while you were staying at the castle and you got to the tavern in a surprisingly short amount of time. You hoped that Hal was still here. As you opened the door to the warm tavern a hushed silence fell over the patrons as they stared at the newcomer. You didn’t have to search far for Hal because he was in the middle of everyone with a pretty blonde woman perched on his lap. His eyes widened as he looked at you, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed. Hal had seemed to become even more beautiful in the year that he’d been away. He looked like an angel.

The woman sneered at you and you realised that he hadn’t abdicated the Throne for you at all, you were such a fool. Offering Hal, a sad smile with tears sparkling in your eyes, you turned to leave, walking out into the cold evening air again. You had barely mounted your horse before you felt a strong arm wrap around your waist from behind and a warm hand came to brush your tears away.

“Why are you crying petal?” he whispered.

You could feel the fissure in your heart widen and your knees almost buckled at the sound of his soft voice, “because you’re you a fool,” you sniffled as you turned to face him, “abdicating the Throne for that woman.”

Hal let out a surprised laugh as he shook his head, “I haven’t abdicated the Throne for her,” he jabbed his thumb in the direction of the tavern, “I’ve abdicated it for you.”

Your heart soared as you gasped, searching his face for any deceit, instead you found nothing but love, “me? Why?”

Hal grinned as he cupped your cheek, “isn’t it clear my dear? Because I love you, I would rather give up my future rule than lose you.”

Tears sprang to your eyes again but for a completely different reason and you rested your hands against Hal’s firm chest, “was your father angry?” you couldn’t believe that this brave handsome man had given up everything for you.

“Furious,” Hal rolled his eyes, “but I don’t want to live without you, I love you, Y/N. I would like nothing more than to live the rest of my days with you by my side.”

You smiled as your fingers curled through his hair as you gazed up at him, “I love you too,” you pulled him into a passionate kiss and at the first touch of his lips, you gasped, it felt like coming home, “I’m going to have to find a new post,” you laughed, you couldn’t go back to the palace now.

Hal only chuckled as he pulled you in for another kiss, for the first time in your life you had no idea what was coming next. However, you couldn’t find it in your heart to care, you had your Prince and that was all that mattered.

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

@smiithys

#prince hal #hal #the hollow crown #prince hal imagine #prince hal fanfiction #prince hal x reader #prince hal x reader insert #prince hal x y/n #prince hal x you #you x prince hal #hal x reader #hal x y/n #hal x you #you x hal #tom hiddleston #royalty au

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amerrierworld · 3 years

Text

Babysitter (pt 11)

Pt 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

Summary: Loki and Hela come to break you out.

Characters: Hela x fem!reader, Avengers

Word Count: 2,780

Warnings: some light smut to start~ and then battle time! whoop whoop

Her cold lips pressed against the back of your neck, a firm presence in the swirling dark. You couldn’t see her, but you could feel her. Could feel her wandering hands snaking over your bare skin, making you squirm.

You could see your breath form in the cool air around you, and you were pulled back against her front, feeling her hook her legs over yours, her dark hair falling into your sight as she enveloped you. Hints of green pulsed in your peripheral vision.

“Hela,” you breathed, clinging onto one of her hands as the other traveled lower and lower. You stared up into the darkness, falling back even further into her hold, her body and soft cushions catching you. Her voice rumbled in your ear, but you couldn’t understand what she was saying.

Your eyes fluttered shut as familiar fingers searched and caressed your cunt, pushing between your folds and collecting your wetness on her fingertips. Your hips bucked weakly, as if you were caught in molasses, and you moaned softly.

One of your hands tried to reach back, felt the brush of her hair against your palm, but couldn’t find her head or her shoulders to hold onto. Your legs were still trapped, the fingers were still moving inside you, but your hands were grasping at nothingness and-

You sat up in your bed, shaking, eyes looking around and wondering if Hela could be in your room with you. But there was nothing, and no one out of the ordinary.

Sweat had gathered in every crevice of your body and you clambered out of bed to take a quick shower, trying to wash the feeling of Hela off your body, without succeeding. You didn't sleep the rest of the night.

The next day you were sitting by yourself, reading a book after lunch in a small reading room away from the main offices and training rooms where you knew the rest of the team would be.

Something crept up the back of your neck and a chill ran through your body. You tried to ignore it, but it persisted. And when you looked up from your book, Loki was standing by the doorway, looking quite unimpressed. You shrieked, your stomach dropping at the sight of you.

He raised his hand to shush you and eyed the doorway, hoping no one would come through there. You stared at him, and in a split decision, chucked your book at him.

It went straight through his form, only causing a faint green glimmer as it landed on the floor. You gaped at him and he raised an eyebrow, silently asking if you were done.

“Do you know how hard it was to find you?” Loki said after you had calmed down somewhat.

“What are you doing here?” you hissed, “weren’t you..”

“Dead? No, not quite. Almost.”

You sank back in your seat, your hand over your heart as you sighed, “what is it with you lot and always coming back from the dead?”

“It’s an occupational hazard with what we do,” he shrugged.

A pair of footsteps walked by the room, and Loki slunk back into the shadows, fading away for a moment. You didn't move until you were sure whoever it was had gone.

“Look, I don’t have much time,” Loki said once you were alone again, “but we’re here to break you out.”

“Who’s we?”

Loki rolled his eyes, “who do you think? Your murderous girlfriend who unfortunately happens to be my sister as well.”

Your heart nearly jumped out of your throat, “Hela? So she is here?”

“Of course she is.”

You sat quietly for a moment; so your mind wasn’t playing tricks on you. Hela had come back for you, and she was here.. somewhere.

“I- I can’t believe..”

“Well you better, now get your things and follow me. We can get out of here without fighting.”

“Wait- what? No, wait, wait,” you got up hurriedly as Loki began walking to the doorway. You couldn’t stop him- it was only a projection of him, but you weren’t ready to just walk out.

“Why would I just leave?” you asked, making Loki stop in his tracks. He looked you over and slowly approached you, his eyes flashing.

“Because you’re being held here against your will and she’s come to bail you out? Mind you- it was her idea to come barging in and killing anyone in sight, so this is a much better upgrade from that plan.”

“No- no I know. But.. when we get out, what then? What am I supposed to do? Loki... the world’s fallen apart.”

The Asgardian was quiet.

“Yeah, sure,” you continued, pacing from where you were standing, “I don’t like being kept here but- there’s not much else out there right now. Everything here at least feels a little... normal.”

“You can’t be serious. What about Hela then, huh? You think she’ll stay here with a team of heroes who tried to kill her? Just for you? Hela hates being imprisoned, Y/N. This would be a death sentence for all of us.”

“What about you then?” you retorted, “after you get me out, and Hela and I go about our merry way, what will you do? Tour the universe until some other evil plan comes up?

“This,” you gestured around the room, “is all I have right now.”

“No, no,” Loki mocked your gesture a bit more aggressively, “what you have is a prison, and only one person in the world who will stop at nothing to break you out of it.

“I’m not the most romantic, fine,” he admitted, “but I know that the two of you should never be apart, ever again. You should have seen her when I found her, Y/N- she was broken.”

A wave of tears threatened to spill at his words and you fell back in you chair once again. You buried your face in your hands and for a few minutes nothing else happened. Loki looked at you and felt his heart -or what was left of it- break to see you so defeated.

“I love her, Loki,” you whimpered, “I tried to deny it when Tony said so.. but he’s right. I love her, but I’m scared. This world isn’t meant for her. It would drive her mad.”

“Not with you around.”

You wiped the salty tears off your cheeks and looked up at Loki.

“Let’s get you out of here, and we can figure it out from there, okay? Perhaps we can come to an agreement with the rest of your team.”

You eventually nodded and stood up, ready to pack the few things you had when a loud crash and alarms sounded. There was a hurry of steps outside the room and when you looked, the whole team of remaining Avengers were preparing themselves, running down the hallways to the source of the noise.

“You filthy humans!” a cry came from the direction they were running towards. Your heart shattered; Hela.

Beside you, Loki’s apparition groaned in exasperation.

“I told her to wait, for crying out loud. Why would she be so reckless?”

“She takes after her family, obviously,” you said. “Can’t you get her out of here?”

“You’re a fool to think I can control her now.”

“Then get over here and help her!”

“Yes, yes, alright,” Loki huffed, “I’ll be there in a moment.”

His image shimmered away, and you hurried down the hallway, hoping to stall before anyone was killed.

One of the ground level metal walls had been torn open like it was nothing but paper. Large metal spears and knives were wedged in the edges and the opposite walls. The sun was glinting off of Hela’s horns and blinded you for a moment before you could really look at her.

She looked.. regal. Well, she mostly looked psychotic, with bared teeth and clenched hands, but it was her and she was real and oh boy was she angry.

Hela had Steve by the throat, holding him up so his feet barely brushed the ground. Tony and Nat had their weapons aimed but didn’t shoot. They were either waiting for her to drop Steve or didn't want to kill her. You hoped it was the latter.

“Wait!” you screamed, skidding to a halt at the scene. Dust swirled in the air from the debris. There were no bodies yet, and you prayed you could keep it that way.

The moment Hela caught sight of you, her face changed. Her eyebrows unfurled and her mouth dropped open a little bit- she looked at you with disbelief, as if she couldn’t comprehend you standing there, alive and well.

Steve took the opportunity as she was distracted and lifted his leg to kick her square in the stomach. She doubled over, dropping him, and he raised his arm to land a punch, but instead, Hela grabbed his offensive arm and whipped him away from her- effectively throwing him against the rest of the team, knocking them all down temporarily.

Before you could react and rush over to see if the group of Avengers were okay, Hela was by you in a flash.

Her hands trembled as they grasped yours, and she looked you up and down, checking for wounds, checking if you were there. Then she cupped your cheek, wiping away the tears you were crying.

“Hela-,” you croaked, because the touch of her was too much, too overwhelming, too good. She smiled, though barely, and kissed you hard on the mouth.

“Stand down, sister,” Thor’s voice boomed, and she turned to see the team back on their feet, aiming everything they had at her. She snarled, pulling you behind her, shielding you from them, as if they would ever hurt you.

“You’ve taken everything from me, brother,” she spat. “You won’t take this last ounce of happiness from me.”

Something flickered in Thor’s eyes and he had to retighten his grip on his hammer, which you realized wasn’t Mjolnir, but a makeshift copy that looked somewhat close to it.

“Y/N,” Tony said, gesturing you over to their side, “come here. Quick. We don’t want you in the way.”

Hela’s focus sharpened in on him, hidden in his armour. There was a surge of jealousy through her whole being, at the memory of him by your side, threatening to hurt you, sparring with you, taking you from her.

She pushed you back, hurled herself at Tony with lightning speed before anyone could shoot, breaking entirely through the next wall, and landing with a thud in the next room.

“No!” you screamed, shielding your face from the spray of debris as the wall broke down.

Hela tried to punch, but Tony’s right iron hand held it in place, arms shaking from the force. They stayed there, suspended in time for a moment. Hela lowered her face to Tony’s helmet as she growled and snapped, but he could see the tears streaming down her face, the wild fear and anger in her eyes.

“You won’t steal her from me,” she cried.

Then JARVIS finished downloading Hela’s body scan from the first day at your home way back, analyzing her form, and realizing her weaknesses. Her left side was much weaker than her right.

And so, he kicked, jabbed, and twisted her left leg and arm until she howled in pain and dropped to the side, giving Tony the chance to get up and put some distance between them again.

You felt helpless, not knowing how to stop it, not knowing what to do, not wanting to hurt anyone- you had no weapons on you. Hela staggered to her feet, the helmet having disappeared long ago, and she raised her hand to summon a new menacing sword, when someone hooked an arm around her neck and pressed a rusty dagger against her neck.

“Drop it, sister,” Loki hissed, the blade pressing finely against her skin. She hissed, but slowly let it slip from her hands as she realized defeat. You were panting, every inch of you throbbing with adrenaline and dread.

“Stand down, everyone,” Loki continued, and then with a pointed look at Thor, “please, brother.”

Thor was the first to lower his hammer, though his face was still angry and unforgiving. Then Tony, and everyone else followed suit.

Loki kicked the back of Hela’s knee to make her drop down, to which she cried out in anger.

“Sorry,” he added, the blade still pressed against her neck, “but you’ve really got to stop going on killing sprees.”

“You were taking too long,” she snapped, “I needed to take matters into my own hands. How was I supposed to know what was happening?”

“Alright, okay, anyone wanna explain what the hell is going on? Y/N? Thor? You wanna explain what your dysfunctional family is doing here?” Nat asked, exasperated.

The God of Thunder looked at you, your eyes begging and desperate. “They’re here for you, aren’t they?”

You nodded weakly, trembling.

“Well, best let her take her then,” Tony sighed. All of you turned your heads at him in disbelief. His iron armour was short-circuiting from the blows Hela had landed and he quickly stepped out of it. You were reminded once again of how malnourished he looked- and how dark the bags under his eyes were. But his tone remained chipper.

“You’ve seen what she can do,” he gestured at Hela, “and she isn’t gonna stop until she gets Y/N. And I don’t think Y/N wants to stay here either.”

He looked at you knowingly, and you felt like you could cry all over again.

Hela struggled against Loki’s grip for a moment, heartbroken as she saw your face scrunch up and your hands grasp your elbows in an attempt to shield yourself.

“Is that true?” Nat asked, staring at you with a gun still in hand.

You slowly nodded, making eye contact with Hela and not looking away. You heard Steve sigh and groan a bit from pain as he came up to your side.

“Y/N, she’s a vicious attacking machine, we can’t just let you two run off.”

“Why not?” you asked, your voice thick. “We won’t hurt anyone.”

“Look, we still don’t even know if she knows about Thanos, right?” Clint said, but Tony shook his head, sitting down on the armrest of a cushioned chair that was practically sliced in half from Hela throwing weapons.

“I doubt that,” he said, “if she had control over Thanos or any connection with him, I don’t think she would have come alone, let alone with him,” with a nod towards Loki.

He rolled his eyes, “you’re welcome for saving you, by the way.”

“Can you- could you all, please, just, can we please just talk about this?” you hiccuped through your words, sobs slowly growing in volume. “Loki- the- the knife, please- please let her go.”

Loki looked at you apologetically, “not if she lashes out again.”

“Hela,” you pleaded, “Hela, please. Don’t hurt anyone else? Everyone- everyone has already been hurt so much.”

Hela looked at you, now seeing the tears sliding down your dirtied cheeks, and her shoulders slumped, before nodding. Her hands that were gripping Loki’s arm around her neck let go, and dropped to her sides.

Loki removed the dagger and stepped away. Tension filled the room, expecting her to attack again.

“Y/N,” Thor said, and he tossed you a new pair of handcuffs. “Go on.”

You stared at him, “excuse me? You want me to chain her up- again? After everything-”

“This is more to keep all of us safe. She’d kill us if we came too close,” Thor said, pointedly raising an eyebrow at you. “It won’t be for long. Not until we figure out what to do next.”

You stumbled over rand dropped on your knees in front of Hela, gently holding her hands for a moment. She stared at you, deep green eyes watering.

“Just for now,” you promised. “Just like before, okay?”

You waited for long, agonizing moments until she nodded, and only then did you snap the cuffs in place. Almost immediately, Tony was on Loki and had his wrists in chains as well.

“Wh- excuse me?” he scoffed, staring at the cuffs, “how dare you?”

“Precautions, my friend,” he shrugged. “Come on, all of you, this mess is doing nothing for my respiratory system.”

He pushed Loki ahead of him and you followed with Hela’s hands clasping yours, rubbing your arms together, her trailing behind you like a lost puppy. You were thrilled to see her again, but wondered where the hell you were supposed to go from here.

A/N; I guess I kinda made Loki the unspoken hero didn’t I? :D

so the main reason why I haven’t been updating this series as much is because we’re at a point where multiple ideas branch off into totally different directions, and I keep changing my mind about where I want this to go, effectively stumping me when writing. but after much editing and changing of plot, this is what I’ve got, and I hope you like it :)

taglist: @midnight-lestrange @cheerfullyvenomous @germansarechill @gaylorrds @amii-nyc @waitingfortheendtocome @novakitten0901 @marvels-writings @jadewestwriter @thisisanexistentialcrisis @sapphiclyartistically

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