#but i actually like not having to worry about bleeding my pants BUT NOOO MY BODY IS SHOWING SIGNS I MIGHT START MY PERIOD AND IM NOT HAPPY | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

xfandomwritingsx · 3 years

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Being Human - James Vega/F!Shepard

Description: James and Shepard finally stop dancing around each other. AKA; a rewrite of the Citadel DLC.

Warnings/Labels: None really. Some super minor sexual stuff.

Approx. Word Count: 4,500

A/N: Look... this is at best a rough draft that I typed up and didn’t edit, but I will forever be bitter about how they made the Citadel play out with these two. And while I know it won't happen, I really wish they'd fix it in the remaster. I mean if you're going to remaster the games, that sounds like a damn good time to fix anything inappropriate and rape-y right?! I would love to do a whole slow burn of Shepard and Vega spanning from Earth to the end of the game, but if you know me, you know I'm SLOW AS MOLASSES to update and I'm not lying when I say it would take me years to finish. So instead... have a poorly written snippet. I tried to keep it as much in “canon character” as I could.

Shepard stands on the balcony of her new apartment, mind gently jogging around the events of the last few days which bleeds into the events of the last few years. Resting her arms on the metal railing, she drops her head and sighs, trying to pull herself from the black hole that is her memory anymore. She wants to let it all go, just for a night.

“Hey, Lola,” James calls, pulling her back to the present. She looks up briefly wondering how long he’d been there before she sees the door closing behind him. How had she not heard it? “Nice place,” he comments, looking around the open layout. “Might not look so nice after that party you were talking about.” He walks further in, headed for the stairs to join her on the balcony.

“You wouldn’t trash my new apartment, would you James?” she jokes lightly, pushing herself upright off the railing.

“Me?” He spins a little, keeping his eyes on her as he continued to travel backwards to the stairs. “Nooo. Never,” he draws it out, the sarcasm a little thick. Shepard rolls her eyes at him, but he sees the little smile at the corner of her lips too.

James has always had that effect on her. No matter what dumb thing came out of his mouth, he managed to make her smile. It was something she’d craved over the last few months more than ever. While everyone else gave her pep talks that only managed to remind her how much the galaxy rested on her shoulders, James was more likely to tell her that her pants hugged her curves just right. He let her forget about being Commander Shepard even if for just a few moments.

He whistles as he approaches her side, looking out over the balcony with her.

“Nice view. But this place?” He shakes his head just slightly. “It’s just so... not what I’m used to.” He gives a small shrug, still looking out over the scenery and the lights outside the large windows.

“Which is?” Shepard prods. They don't talk about their pasts very often. Everyone already knew hers and James was never extremely open about his own. He puts his hands on the railing and leans into his arms a little.

“I grew up on the beach in the Pacific,” he shares. “So, you know; water, sand, real air.” She thinks there’s a hint of bitterness in his voice.

“You miss it?” He doesn’t look at her this time and instead she watches as he loosens his grip on the rail a little bit and sighs.

“Yeah. And the people.” She catches the undertone, the longing that implies he’s thinking of someone specific when he says it.

“So, what’s her name?” she asks. She means it to be teasing, but there’s an unexpected pang in her gut that feels all too much like jealousy for her liking and it ruins the lighthearted joke in her voice. She shifts her weight a little and slips a hand into the pocket of her pants.

“No! No.” he clarifies through a bark of a laugh, easing her tension a little. “I stopped... fraternizing when I joined the military. The two don’t seem to go well together.”

“Hasn’t stopped you from being a shameless flirt.” It had taken a short amount of time after they’d first met on Earth for him to relax around her and once he did, the comments, the winks, the innuendos and double entendres never ceased. The only thing he never seemed to do, was be physical with his flirting. He’d never so much as run a hand down her arm or let his hands linger when they sparred. Though Shepard had found herself wishing he would recently.

“Yeah, well... that’s just my way. I don’t mean anything by it.” There’s something in the way that he still won’t look at her that makes her think maybe that’s not all true.

“Too bad.” She drops her tone a little and takes a step towards him. “I wasn’t complaining.” He cracks a smile and lets out another short laugh.

“Who’s the shameless flirt now?” He gives her a single glance and then looks back down to his hands on the railing.

“So you can give it, but you can’t take it?” The flirting had never been completely one sided, but it certainly came heavier from him and it wasn’t uncommon for him to get a little flustered when she returned it.

“No, it’s just...” He releases the railing and pushes away, adding a little distance between the two. “You’re my commander, por dios. I can never tell if you’re yanking my chain.” He looks at her, really looks at her this time and the mood shifts. The air gets thicker, heavier and it feels like an opportunity, one she doesn’t want to slip away again.

“And what if I’m not?” she asks, voice dipping down again. “Not just yanking your chain?” James swallows thickly and there’s a mumble of a noise from his lips, but he doesn’t give a response. Instead, she’s pleased to watch as his eyes travel down from her eyes to her lips, down her neck and through the valley between her breasts that he can see all too well in her black tank top. “Are you going to tell me you’ve never thought about it?”

“Uhhh… I mean you’re one hell of a woman and I’m still just flesh and blood, if you know what I mean.” She can see a bit of redness creep up his neck and Shepard wonders if the implication is just that his body reacts to her or if he’s actually done something about it when his body reacts.

“So am I, James. And you are one hell of a man yourself.” She slips in front of him, putting herself between himself and the railing, all but begging him to pin her there. He makes no move to do so however. Instead, his eyes drop down to their feet and Shepard feels like she’s sinking. “But you’re not interested.” She leans back into the railing, wanting to retreat. James snaps his eyes back to hers and his mouth flops for a few moments as if he’s going to say something, but after a minute of silence, Shepard gives up. She slinks away off to the side and as far away as she can get without feeling too awkward. “Well, now that you’ve shot me down, was there anything else you came here to talk about?”

“Uhhh, yeah,” he stutters, shaking his head. She feels a little bad to have put him on the spot, but she’s just as embarrassed as he is. “I wanted to show you something.”

He turns away from her and pulls his shirt over his head. It takes Shepard longer than she should admit to notice he’s not just showing off the well-toned muscles in his back and shoulders, but trying to show her the new and finished N7 tattoo. He looks at her over his shoulder.

“What do you think?”

“Looks good,” she says honestly. “You’ve earned it.” She sees him smile a little at her approval. She crosses her arms over her chest and tries to lighten her tone. “Though I think it’s a little mean to flaunt yourself to the woman you just turned down.” He chuckles, taking her teasing easily.

“Here I was thought I was being nice giving you at least a little something,” he jokes back before turning to face her, shirt still in his hand. “Thought you liked the show.” She rolls her eyes, but even after him turning her down, the flirting still makes her feel better. “Anyways... Just wanted to show you that bad boy.” He slips his shirt back over his head and she resists the small urge to tell him to keep it off. “I gotta get back to the Normandy,” he says. “Esteban wants my help working on the shuttle.” Shepard shuffles her feet for a moment and then sticks out her hand towards him.

“Thanks for coming by, James.” She uses a formal voice, hoping the gesture and tone will clearly communicate a no hard feelings vibe. He reaches out and takes her hand. The handshake lasts for less than a second before he brings her hand up into a fist grab and pulls her closer. He locks her eyes with his and that tension rises again.

“Lola,” he whispers. “I’m not not interested.” She loosens her grip in his, going from firm comradery to something softer. “It’s just that… you’re Commander Shepard, you know?” He watches her shoulders fall and he knows instantly it was the wrong thing to say.

“I get it, James,” she says, attempting to hide her dejection. It’s the title, the legend that again stands in her way from being a regular woman. So much for him being the person who makes her forget it all. “Don’t worry about it.” She withdraws from him quickly and a little more coldly than she intended. He again opens his mouth, but doesn’t form words. “I’ll see you later,” she dismisses him and he nods. He moves to leave before trying once more to end on a friendly note.

“This is gonna be a perfect place for a fiesta.”

~~~

For a guy who all but told her no, James is sure as shit staring at her an awful lot like he wants to rip her clothes off.

“Is constant staring customary to the human mating ritual?” Garrus teases him as he pours drinks on the other side of the bar. “Because if so, you’re doing a damn good job, Jimmy.” James grimaces and throws a peanut shell at the Turian.

“Shut it, Scars.”

“He’s still convinced regs are a problem to worry about,” Steve chimes in, clapping his friend on the shoulder.

“Regs? Really?” Garrus asks. “You realize breaking regulations is pretty much Shepard’s specialty, right?” He slides the drink towards James who just shakes his head at it and passes it to Steve. “And even if it wasn’t, we’re quite possibly facing the end of the galaxy here. Who’s kissing who isn’t something anyone’s worried about, even the brass.” James mumbles something and picks at the label on his nearly full beer bottle.

He can barely see Shepard at the kitchen entrance from his spot at the end of the bar and every time she moves, his neck cranes to follow her. He’d either purposely or accidentally kept her in view all night and has spent the better part of it kicking himself for not just throwing her against a wall earlier that day.

She catches his eye and he instantly looks away, back to his bottle. She chose to wear a dress of all things tonight. A god damned dress. A little black number that fit her better than it had any right to. The woman was trying to kill him.

“Boys,” he hears her greet them casually, having approached them at the bar while he was attempting to ignore her. “How are things going?” James doesn’t hear their response. He’s too preoccupied trying to keep his eyes off of her chest as she leans her hip against the edge of the bar. “You seem quiet, Vega,” she comments.

“Just enjoying the party.” He shrugs and takes a drink of his beer, thinking about how he could kill Garrus and Steve for the look they shoot each other.

“Steve,” Garrus interrupts. “Let me show you that data pad I mentioned earlier.” Garrus had, of course, mentioned no such data pad in their prior conversations, but Steve agreed eagerly and James really thought about strangling at least one of them when they left him alone with Shepard.

“We good?” she asks him so casually that he almost feels bad.

“Yeah, why?” He takes another drink of his beer and it quickly turns into a large gulp.

“You seem to be avoiding me,” She squints and forces a smile. “And also staring, which is odd. Just want to make sure we’re good.” She takes a sip of her own drink and shifts her eyes to the Turian alcohol bottle, investigating it curiously.

James chews on his tongue for a moment. She wants them to be good. Good means normal. Normal would mean telling her those squats she’s been doing have done wonders for her ass and that was dangerous tonight.

“It help if I tell you that you look damn fine in that dress?” He never was too good at avoiding danger.

“Maybe,” She shrugs and leans forward towards him just a little. “Probably help a little more if you called me Lola.” Damn if her voice didn’t sound husky and smooth. Despite his better judgement, he followed her lead and leaned in as well, lowering his voice if nothing more than to make sure eavesdroppers wouldn’t hear.

“Well, that dress is definitely giving me ideas… Lola.” A smile breaks on her lips and he’s not entirely sure, but he thinks he sees her shiver just the slightest. He takes another long drink, but this time doesn’t take his eyes off her.

“You going to keep a girl guessing or are you going to share with the class?” She takes a step forward, getting close enough for him to notices she actually put on a light layer of perfume too. He chuckles, but curses internally.

“You’re making it real hard to remember why this is a bad idea,” he warns.

He starts listing the reasons in his head. Fraternization regs. She’s his commander. She’s fucking Commander Shepard and he’s just a nobody lieutenant who makes a shitty leader. She’s probably looking for some kind of easy fling. Distracting her like that would be selfish. It’d look bad. The rest of the crew might start to question her judgement. The list goes on and on.

“I never pegged you to be a guy who runs hot and cold,” she says, breaking his train of thought. “And yet today you’ve given more mixed signals than a broken comm transmission.”

“Sorry, Lola.” And he is, honestly. He’s a tangled-up mess of thoughts and emotions and even the little bit of alcohol he’s consumed tonight is making him think with his dick first.

“Want me to put on a wig? Change my name? Maybe lay on an accent?” He can tell by the wiggle in her eyebrows as much as the suggestion itself that she’s had a little too much to drink, but it twists his stomach in a bad way all the same. “I don’t have to be Commander Shepard for a night.” And now he feels guilty, so much so that his neck and his face turn red and he looks down again, embarrassed at himself. She gives a quick pat to his forearm. “Come find me if you change your mind.”

She grabs her drink and leaves to mingle with her other guests, leaving him alone to feel like an asshole. He could never find the right thing to say around Shepard. Not when it came to this. He wanted her and lately he had to admit it was more than just a sexual attraction. He wanted more than that, but the idea of being selfish enough to pursue Commander Shepard was intimidating. Maybe, he admits, he needs to stop separating her and realize that Commander Shepard and his Lola are one and the same. Maybe then he can stop being a dick.

“Fucking pendejo,” he whispers to himself before swiping up that Turian bottle.

~~~

She can feel the headache before she even opens her eyes. Had she really drank much last night? No, she’s sure she didn’t. She even remembers everything, including climbing into her bed after barely having the energy to change clothes.

She throws on her N7 sweatshirt and slowly treks her way to the kitchen, making sure to note all the remnants of the party, including some of her friends scattered amongst the apartment. It makes her smile.

She smells bacon as she rounds the corner and sees James at the stove already in the full throws of making breakfast. He beams a smile at her when he sees her in the doorway and flips the pan a little.

“Lola!” he greets. “Eggs?”

“You’re awful cheery,” she comments dryly, and a little bitterly, as she steps further into the kitchen. She rounds the island the stove is on and snags a piece of bacon from the plate there.

“Been a while since you knocked that many back?” he teases, watching the way her eyes squint uncomfortably. “Breakfast will help.” He shovels some of the fresh eggs onto a plate and passes it her way. She takes them gratefully and reaches for the salt. James’ hand wraps around her wrist, stopping her reach. “You really gonna do me like that?” he scolds playfully. “Add salt before you even try them? That’s my abuela’s recipe. It doesn't need more salt.” She cracks a smile, but doesn’t move her hand away just yet, the warmth of his hand feeling too comforting to pull away from. There’s a gentle swipe of his thumb over her pulse before he lets go on his own. He empties the rest of the eggs on a communal plate before clearing his throat. “Hey, let me know when you have some time,” he says. It sounds surprisingly awkward. “I’ve got something I want to talk to you about.”

~~~

Never being one to put things off, Shepard returned to her room as soon as she’d finished eating and made the rounds to make sure everyone was awake or, at the very least, breathing.

I’m in my room. Got some time. She sends the message before even making it through the door. It doesn't take more than a few seconds for him to respond.

Be up in a minute.

She makes herself busy with her omni-tool while she waits. She feels a bit like a fool, practically throwing herself at him a second time only to be left alone again last night. She wouldn’t blame him if he came to talk to her about how uncomfortable she had made him.

She’s left the door open for him, but he still gives it a gentle knock to get her attention when he arrives.

“Nice room,” he comments, sticking his head over the threshold and looking around. “Bit different than the Normandy. Less fish.” He cracks a smile at her and the simple gesture puts her at ease a little. He can’t be pissed at her if he’s still making jokes, right?

“You’re just jealous you don’t have fish in your room.” She isn’t about to admit that she actually misses the blue glow and gentle whir of the filter when she falls asleep. Not right now at least.

“Yeah, well, maybe we should trade rooms sometime.”

Or maybe we could share mine. Shepard physically bites her tongue to stop herself from saying it aloud. Still unsure of exactly where they stand and just how awkward she made things for him, it is not the time to let the flirtations rise up that quickly.

He takes her brief silence to enter the room and close the door behind him. That makes her a little nervous, but not nearly as much as when he says, “So... we should talk about last night.”

“I owe you an apology, Lieutenant,” she says instantly, nearly cutting him off. The way she snaps back to professionalism with a straight back, pushed down shoulders, and a commanding tone makes him pause for a moment, his eyes widening just a fraction. “I was inappropriate with you and should not have taken advantage of my rank.” It takes an extra moment for her apology to sink in and his brow furrows as he sorts it through his brain.

“What? No!” he huffs and takes two large, hurried steps her way. She must not have held her surprise well enough because he suddenly stops again. “Lola,” he sighs. “I didn’t come here to... register a complaint.” His face crunches up as though he doesn’t like the way the word taste. “I came to apologize to you,” he says firmly. “And hopefully not fuck up my words this time.”

The intensity in his eyes and the way he’s not shying away from her makes Shepard feel like she’s a young girl again. Any and all experience she has with men and relationships seems to just melt away and suddenly she’s got butterflies and a blush. There’s a nervous heat in her stomach that makes it hard to regain her composure.

“Okay,” she says slowly, not completely sure of where he’s going, but hoping to every God in the galaxy that he’s not turning her down again.

“I can’t hook up with you.” The butterflies die and the excited heat turns to an anger.

“I promise you don’t have to reject me again for me to understand.” She says it harshly, bitterly even. She barely manages to contain throwing her arms in the air when she turns away from him, moving towards the desk in the corner as if she has something better to do. She hears him mutter under his breath and while her Spanish is terrible, the inflection makes it sound like a string of curses.

“Shepard!” He follows her footsteps and when she spins to sit in the desk chair, his arm is extended as though he reached out for her just a moment too late. “I can’t hook up with you,” he emphasizes. “I can’t do just one night and that’s what would have happened last night. Would have been a drunken hook up that one of us or both of us would have brushed off in the morning. I don’t want that.” Her anger starts to dissolve and her spine loses some of its rigidness as she slinks back into her chair.

“What do you want then?” she asks, voice softer and quieter now. She’s afraid of the answer. He chews on his tongue and grinds his jaw and she wonders if maybe he’s afraid too.

“You,” he finally says.

“You sure about that?” She can’t help but scoff. “I am Commander Shepard, after all.”

“Yeah, you are.” His sigh this time seems more like a pained groan. Shepard watches carefully as he turns and sits himself on her unmade bed. “Which is why it feels completely selfish and impossible to ask you to commit to anything more, let alone to an insignificant lieutenant like me.”

“Commit?” She suddenly feels lighter again.

“When I go for something, I go all in,” he tells her. “That would include you...this...us.” He waves his hand out awkwardly and avoids her eyes as though he’s nervous. She bites down on her lip to swallow down the smile. She knows it’s not exactly fair to enjoy his nervousness, but at least it’s not just her. She slowly pushes herself up from her chair.

“You’re not insignificant,” she assures him.

“I’m not some hero of the galaxy,” he admits. He doesn’t say it with a self-conscious, but rather states it just as a simple fact. “I haven’t been with you since the beginning like most of these guys.”

“You know that’s one of the things I like about you James?” He looks up at her curiously. “Sure, you’ve heard the stories, but we didn't meet on the ship in the midst of wars. We met on Earth.” She rounds the desk slowly, walking closer to where he sits still using caution in case he backs out. “You didn’t just get to know Commander Shepard. You got to know Jane, to know me. You treat me like I’m human.”

“You are human, Lola.” He’s not looking away from her now and it gives her a little burst of confidence.

“Yeah. What was it you said? Just flesh and blood?” There’s a tease of a smirk on her lips as she comes to stand in front of him, legs stopping just short of slipping between the gap of his spread knees. He chuckles and the weight of everything starts to lift.

“You sure about this, Lola?” He reaches out and curls his hand around her hip. It's the first time he’s ever really touched her and it makes her heart skip just a little. She leans into his touch, pushing her hip into his palm and leans forward to put her hands on his shoulders. He feels solid beneath her and she can’t resist the need to squeeze just a little, to feel the muscles at the end of her fingers.

“I’ve thought about it in great detail.” He cocks an eyebrow at her and tugs her in-between his legs. He watches her with an unbridled desire in his eyes and for the first time in a long time, she feels real excitement. She traces one hand up the side of his neck so she can run his fingers along his jaw. “That party shouldn’t be the last bit of happiness we get to indulge in.”

He moves quickly; his hand on the back of her neck before she knew he moved it, using barely any strength to pull her down to him. She follows him easily, all too eager to kiss him heatedly. Months of suppressed desires pour out into each other and for the first few moments, they merely hold onto each other and soak in the relief of letting go. And then James’ hands start moving, pulling her closer and sliding over the curve of her ass. Shepard is compliant and carefully climbs into his lap, one knee on either side of his hips on her bed. He bites gently at her bottom lip before using a hand on her jaw to tilt her head back, allowing him to kiss down her neck.

Eyes closed and succumbing to the pleasure he’s offering, Shepard is unprepared for when James moves again. He rolls to the side and pushes her onto her back on the bed. She lets out an actual squeak of surprise and James chuckles, still pressing kisses to her skin. With her legs still around his waist, his hips grind almost unconsciously and she doesn’t hold back her moan.

James peels himself away from her slowly, leaving a cold trail of air where his body had been on top of her. She opens her eyes and glares at him, but the smirk still on his face and the bulge she manages to catch a glimpse of through his pants, make sure no fear of rejection rises back in her.

“And where are you going?” she asks, attempting and failing to use her Commander tone. She tries again after clearing her throat and pushing herself up on her elbows. “You’re not leaving this room for a while.” James laughs and flashes her a smile as he keeps walking to the door.

“Is that an order?” he teases, pressing the lock for the door and waiting until it flashes red before turning back to her.

“You bet your ass it is.” She smiles back at him. She could have locked the door from right here with her omni-tool and he knew it. He was just being a teasing bastard. “You’re not leaving her until I say so.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he laughs again before coming back to her.

#james vega #shega #shega imagine #femshep x vega #Shepard/James Vega Imagine #James Vega Imagine #mass effect #mass effect imagine #femshep

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for-a-muse-of-fire · 4 years

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before the otherness came (2)

the wench and the witcher

“before the otherness came”

Fandom: The Witcher (2019)

Paring: Geralt of Rivia x Fem!POC Reader.

Summary: Two years go by.

Warnings: Language, some violence and sexism.

A/N: Part 2 of my “As It Was” fic set. Once again, big love to my darling Tumblr wife, @inber ,for helping me sus these bad boys out. This was a beast to write, and I think the longest think I’ve banged out. I will always and forever second-guess my ability to write angst, but I did it and it’s y’all’s problem now.

@coconutxraikage - @onyour-right - @ly–canthrope - @kianya-loves - @c-s-stars - @gczanetti1 - @alwaysnatz - @agniavateira - @inber - @owillofthewisps - @hina-chans-stuff - @yespolkadotkitty - @wastingmypotential

Part 1 can be found here.

Tell me if somehow, some of it remains How long you would wait for me? And how long I've been away

Heartache has a particular bite to it. It’s bitter – metallic - like holding a copper coin in your mouth, it sits heavy on the tongue. You’ve been trying to choke back the taste of it since Geralt left.

He always takes a piece of you with him when he goes but gods it feels different, this time.

This time the empty space left behind is jagged. It splinters. It breaks off sharp little pieces that slice deep as you try to go about your life. As you try to pretend that it’s fine, when you try to keep moving, and working – walking and talking and living as if there isn’t a piece of your own heart missing. It’s exhausting. You end your days almost too tired to sleep, curled up in your empty bed and each night. Your fingers reach out and drift over the space where he should be and the chasm widens.

More jagged bits break away. More cuts, more pain.

You hadn’t started to worry, really worry, until Geralt had been gone for two months. It wasn’t uncommon, but the longer you went without hearing word, the more you worried. When you still hadn’t heard anything in four months, the fear set in. The Continent is vast and wide, though – he could be anywhere.

After six months, the fear turns to dread. After ten months and no word, nothing, you’d reached out to Jaskier, but even his connections had their limits and that was when the sorrow found you. There was a chance the White Wolf didn’t want to be found, but the more likely alternative, well.

The Path is dangerous. Geralt of Rivia is big, and bad, but he’s not invulnerable.

You haven’t seen him in over two years. No one has.

With a shaky inhale, you pull your gaze from the flame of the candle at your elbow. You make another attempt to focus on the open ledger in front of you with middling success. The sharp bits, the cutting bits he left behind have mostly been pieced together. Some days you can almost ignore them, but today it feels like you’re on the verge of breaking apart again. Swearing quietly, you tally the last of the earnings for the week and flip the book closed before rubbing at your aching eyes.

You take the small flask from your desk drawer. The brandy is smooth and warm on the way down, dulling the edge of your pain until you feel like you might be able to stand and smile in the land of the living. Another sip and you decide to try and do just that.

It’s not terribly crowded tonight, but the people eating your food and drinking your ale are in good spirits. It warms you some, watching them smile and laugh over your recipes. You cast your gaze across the room, grinning and waving when your name is called until your eyes light on a newer face at the bar. He’s certainly handsome. Curly copper-colored hair, pretty green eyes – some manner of tradesman by the cut and styling of his clothes. Not poor, but certainly no well-moneyed type; that lot doesn’t drink here. The copper-haired stranger catches you looking. He has one of those secretive smiles, dimpled and cheeky, and you find yourself returning the one he flashes your way.

You touch the necklace at your throat. It’s almost enough to give you pause, but…

The redhead’s name is Nathaniel.

A carpenter and a shameless flirt, you let him buy you a pint of your own ale and don’t mind when he touches your hand. He listens to you when you talk about the tavern and your cooking, tells you that you make the best rabbit he’s ever had, and you let him slide closer as the evening wears on. His hand is warm on your lower back, his voice lilts in a sweet Skelliger brogue, and he’s entirely too charming for his own good.

When he starts to call you ‘darling’, you don’t feel like correcting him.

You let him tuck you against his side, relishing in the way he bows his mouth close to your ear and you nearly miss the way the room goes quiet. You’re not sure what makes you tear your gaze from Nathaniel’s lips, but then you meet a pair of honey-gold eyes across the room, your heart stops.

Geralt’s face passes through a number of emotions in a split second before you see him shut down.

Gods on high. The bastard’s alive.

Elation and relief make you feel dizzy, you such in a breath and it feels like being punched square in the ribs. Fuck’s sake. The bastard’s alive – he’s been alive this whole godsdamned time.

It suddenly feels as if the stays of your bodice are laced too tight. The room is too loud, too crowded, and the copper-haired man at your side far too close. Nathaniel’s hand brushes down your spine and you bristle, squirming away with a muttered apology. You hear him call after you and ignore it, at least until he grabs your wrist and pulls.

“Hold on, darlin’,’ the redhead leers down at you. “I dun’ think we’re through yet.”

“Let go – “

“Nooo, I dinna think so – “ He pulls again, hard, and his palm chaffs against your skin until you hiss in pain. “You cannae just leave a man high and dry like this, lovey,” Nathaniel says with a smirk. “Come on. Why don’t ye take me upstairs and you can make it up to – “

Over the Skelliger’s shoulder you see the hulking form of the white-haired Witcher and you’ve never seen Geralt so angry. Soft lips are curled back into a deadly sneer, bright eyes flashing with malicious intent. You say his name, warning him off to no avail; you’re not his focus. He grips Nathaniel by the collar and pulls; the smaller man is yanked away and you stumble as his hold on you is broken suddenly.

“Geralt, stop,” you bark.

Nathaniel regains his footing before glancing between you and the Witcher. He looks gobsmacked, at first, and then he laughs, but there’s no humor in it. It’s mean; spiteful.

“You let a Witcher have you?” he scoffs. “Fuck all, love – if I’d-a known you were that easy, I would’nae tried so hard. You’ll let jus’ about anythin’ settle between those pretty legs, won’t ye?”

Geralt snarls, actually snarls, before grabbing the redhead by the shirtfront and slamming his fist across his face. You shout at him to stop. Nathaniel breaks the grip on his shirt with a sweep of his arm before returning blows; man and Witcher ignore your furious cries for cessation, trading blows like brawling idiots, until you roar, “Enough!”

You throw all your weight at Geralt, shoving him hard enough to knock him off balance and away from Nathaniel. “I said enough!” you bellow.

Man and mutant are panting, the former bleeding from his nose and the latter sporting the beginning of a good shiner. Nathaniel sneers at you, “Mutant-humping bitch.”

With a snarl of your own you spin – a flash of metal, and the point of your dirk sits at the redhead’s pulse. “This is my bar, boy,” you snap. “You don’t speak to me like that. Set foot in here again and I’ll finish what he started – do you understand me?”

Nathaniel’s eyes go wide before he glares and spits at the hem of your skirt. Regardless, he does as he’s told. You watch him skulk out the door with your teeth grit so hard that your jaw starts to ache. The rest of the bar is silent as the grave and you can feel embarrassment flush your cheeks with heat. Poor Lucja behind the bar gapes like a fish in a dry stream. It takes a second to find your voice. The dirk slides smoothly back into your bodice.

“I’m sorry for the disturbance, friends,” you call out, grateful that you sound steadier than you feel. “Accept a round, on me.”

At the bar, one of your old regulars makes a show of clearing his throat. “See that, lads?” he growls. “That’s why you don’t tangle with the lady of the house.”

The unbearable tension breaks, laughter rippling lowly over the room. You almost smile, and then you look back to see Geralt. Something awful and prickling hot starts to claw through you when you meet his gaze. The terrible, gut-wrenching feeling only gets worse when you turn towards your study and he follows. You know the sensible thing would be to throw him out on his ass, but you let him follow and turn to face him when the door slams shut.

He just… stares at you. His gold eyes are flat and impassive, handsome face gone hard, and the heat in your gut goes so cold that it hurts. You’re on him in two short strides, both hands shoving hard at his chest. Geralt barely wobbles.

You haul back and slap him hard across the face instead.

The momentum snaps his head to the side; you hear him exhale, slowly. When he turns back to pin you with his gaze again, his eyes flicker dangerously. “Don’t,” he growls.

You strike him again.

He bursts into movement so quickly that you give a short scream of surprise. You swear at him, punching at his chest, trying to kick at his knees – or his groin – before your back hits the wall hard enough to rattle your teeth together. Geralt pins your wrists with bruising force, presses his full weight into you until you’re immobilized. “Don’t you fucking hit me,” he snarls.

You bare your teeth at him. “I oughta black your eye. Put me the fuck down.”

“You gonna calm down?”

“Try it and find out.”

Each short exhale rushes over your face, disturbing the curls that have fallen over. Geralt moves slowly, flint-cold eyes fixed on yours as he eases back. You yank yourself away from him as soon as your feet hit the ground and rub at your sore wrists. Beneath the anger, beneath the hurt and embarrassment, you feel the sharp stab of your old heartache. It shifts in your chest, pieces of jagged glass that drag over the bits of yourself that you had so carefully packed back together.

Oh, it hurts. It scrapes you raw. The pain snags at the breath in your lungs, but your fury surges to the foreground and you shake with it. Your nails dig crescents into the flesh of your palms.

“You asshole,” you spit. “You do not come here and attack my fucking customers – “

“Sweetheart – “

The petname makes you see red. “Don’t fucking call me that. Don’t you dare – you do not get to storm in here half-cocked after you vanish and try to, what, defend my fucking honor?”

Geralt growls from low in his chest. “He all but called you a whore.”

“And you all but treated me like one,” you bite back.

“That’s not fucking fair – “

“Not fair? You fucking left, Geralt. You were gone – “ You choke on the words - they sit too heavy in your mouth.

“For fuck’s sake – it’s my life, the Path! What the fuck am I supposed to do –“

“Try picking up a godsdamned quill.”

Geralt’s teeth click together. You see his jaw twitch, watch his golden eyes flash with barely contained anger and you feel your eyes begin to smart. His face goes hazy and you hate it – it feels like weakness when all you want to do is put your fist through something. The tears spill over your lashes and you wipe at them, angry and embarrassed.

“Two. Years,” you snarl. “Two fucking years I waited, and you couldn’t be arsed to send word?”

The Witcher barks out a laugh, sharp and cold as splintering ice. “You call that waiting? Found the first hard prick looked like he had money and hopped on, so maybe the ginger cunt wasn’t wrong - “

The rage, the hurt surges – bonfire hot – and you turn, grabbing the inkwell from your desk to pitch straight at the Witcher’s head. He dodges with curse and the glass shatters, but the cacophony does nothing to cover your howl:

“I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD, YOU BASTARD!”

The words tear their way up from your heart, breaking open the makeshift cage where that fear had been desperately packed after weeks, then months of nothing and damn him. Jagged bits of yourself run you through and let the grief well up. You try to grit your teeth against it, try to force it down, but those sharp pieces cut and bleed you.

“You unimaginable bastard,” you hiss. “I thought you were dead and – and Jaskier didn’t know where to find you – no one did. Gods damn you, Geralt. I thought I would never see you again.“

Your voice cracks. Geralt’s stares at you, wide-eyed, and you have to drop your gaze. You bite your tongue and close your eyes, shoulders trembling with each silent sob. If only the earth could open up and swallow you whole – you wish for it, pray silently for it, to no avail. The sound of the Witcher’s footfalls breaks through and you expect to hear the door closing as he leaves. Instead, you feel his fingers close on your elbow. You open your eyes, staring hard at the ground; you can see the toes of his heavy, dirt-caked boots butted up against the edge of your skirt. Geralt’s fingers pull once, gently, and that’s all it takes; you stumble forward against his chest with a low keen.

His grip is just shy of too tight. You feel the press of his face against your hair, so familiar that it hurts. He whispers your name, curls his fingers in your hair to keep you close. Your hands fist in the black of his shirt. He lets you cry until there is nothing left.

When your breathing evens and the tears have ebbed, you let him tilt your face up to his, but his expression is no easier to read. It stings at you – salt in the open wound – and the space around your heart aches. His gloved thumb drags gently over the apple of your cheek and you’re tired, of a sudden. Too tired to keep fighting this.

“Damn you, Witcher,” you breathe. “I love you.”

Geralt goes utterly still. Frozen like a cornered cat. You see a flash behind his pretty golden eyes before his hand drops away from your cheek. The look on his face makes your stomach turn over. “I never meant to hurt you, sweetheart,” he mumbles.

Humiliation has a particular taste to it.

The bitter, copper bite coats your tongue and, this time, you can’t swallow it down. It has thorns now, burrs that stick in your throat. You’re not sure why you laugh – it’s a hollow, bitter sound.

“Of course you didn’t,” you say as your voice shakes. “No, you just… you just ran. I said I was yours, and you made a promise, and then you ran.”

The leather cord on your necklace is old enough that it gives with little resistance when you pull. Geralt’s brow creases when you take his hand, but you watch his face go ice cold as you press the wolf’s tooth into his palm. You retreat, move away and behind your desk to pick mindlessly at a few papers before you stop and simply brace there. The smooth, polished oak is cool under your hands.

Geralt’s voice is rough over your name – you grit your teeth and snap, “No. No more. I have done with you, Witcher. Leave me be.”

He doesn’t move, at first. You can just make out his still form in your periphery, and you feel the weight of his eyes on you before he turns, making his silent way to the door. There’s a creak of old wood on ancient hinges. The tavern noise rushes back in for a moment and is cut off with a slam. You screw your eyes shut against a fresh wash of tears to no avail.

You manage to bite your cheek hard enough to keep your sobs muffled.

#geralt x you #geralt x reader #geralt x poc reader #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia #the witcher netflix #the witcher #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #the wench and the witcher #tutu scribbles

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willowfoot · 3 years

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One moment he’s pedalling down the hill as fast as his bike can carry him, laughing at Kageyama’s enraged yells growing ever fainter behind, and the next moment there’s an awful, screechy, metallic crunch and Hinata finds himself flipping right over the handlebars.

Hinata’s body reacts before his brain can, the muscle memory of countless flying fall drills kicking in and cushioning his tumble into the grass. He doesn’t hit his head, but there are a few confused moments when he can’t tell which way is up until he’s blinking his eyes at an open blue sky above him, too stunned to do anything more.

“Hinata? Hinata!” A thump, pounding footsteps, and then a pale face framed by dark hair is leaning over him, wide-eyed.

“I’m fine,” Hinata wheezes, struggling to sit upright. Kageyama grips his shoulders.

“Are you alright? What happened? Are you feeling dizzy? Nauseous? Did you twist your ankle or sprain your wrist or hit your head or—”

“I said I’m fine, Kageyama!” Hinata says again, batting Kageyama’s hands away. Then the pain kicks in. “Oh, ow.”

“Where are you hurt?” Kageyama demands, studying his face.

Hinata rolls up his pant legs with a wince. The fabric had mostly protected his knees, but the skin underneath is scraped raw and bleeding slightly in places. The palms of his hands also sting fiercely, and he bites back a hiss when he tries to stretch out his fingers but irritates the broken skin in the process.

But beyond that… Hinata stares down at his scraped legs and hands and his brain registers that yes, he is actually fine, or at least a lot more fine than could be expected after a fall like that. Kageyama seems to realize this at the same time he does, because he huffs slightly, shoulders relaxing, before crawling through the grass to inspect Hinata’s fallen bike.

“It looks like the front wheel got punctured somehow, so it must have jammed when you were going downhill,” Kageyama says as Hinata tries to scooch over without bending his knees or using his hands. “There’s a gigantic rip in the tire—why the hell are you moving, dumbass?”

“I want to see it!” Hinata elbows Kageyama in the side and tries to look over his shoulder at his bike lying forlornly on the ground. “Is my bike okay? It’s not completely broken, is it? It can’t be broken—I’ve had this bike ever since I was twelve and I don’t have any other ways of getting to school!”

Kageyama scowls and pokes Hinata in the stomach, eliciting a yelp. “Worry about yourself before your bike, idiot!” But he helps Hinata to his feet, steadying him as Hinata tests each leg to make sure they can hold his weight (both legs are fine, aside from the scrapes and bruises and overall shakiness from his fall), and props the bike back upright, where Hinata inspects it as thoroughly as he can. The frame of the bike itself appears to have gotten a little twisted, much to his dismay.

“Nooo,” Hinata whines, draping himself over Kageyama’s shoulders in the way he knows annoys him the most. “Why did I have to break my bike today, of all days?”

“Would it have made a difference if you broke it on any other day?” Kageyama asks sourly. But he shifts himself beneath Hinata’s weight, and Hinata finds himself scrabbling at Kageyama’s shoulders for purchase as his feet suddenly leave the ground.

“Bakageyama! What are you doing?”

“Carrying you to the nurse’s office, dumbass, what does it look like?” With Hinata wrapped around his back like a spider monkey, Kageyama starts to drag Hinata’s broken bike in the direction of the school gates.

Hinata blinks, adjusting his arms so he doesn’t risk accidentally throttling Kageyama, as tempting as the prospect may be. “It’s just a few scrapes. I can walk on my own.”

“I know,” Kageyama mutters. “Come on; we need to patch you up before we go to practice.”

(When they finally march through the gym doors, Hinata is immediately relegated to the bench, much to his vocal dismay. But when Kageyama’s mother drives over after school to pick the both of them up, he gets to hold hands with Kageyama in the backseat, so maybe today isn’t a total loss.)

#haikyuu!!#kagehina #hq #hq fic #kageyama tobio #hinata shouyou #my writing

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cmaddyshere · 4 years

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Sukuna’s gunna eat ya

This is my first ever fan fiction. I love this anime and hope the fans enjoy! TW rape, cannibalism, blood play.

Breakfast was bland. Everything is bland. He is just staring out of the window of this cafe watching people walk the street. I am stuck.... just watching. I want them all to burn. I crave nothing more than to destroy everyone and everything I can see. This is bullshit. I cannot over power Yuuji for the life of me. How does he do it? I whisper in his head constantly of my past indulgences. His heart races every time, I can feel his disgust with me and he begs me to stop talking. It is the only thing I have now; the ability to at least torture this putrid fuck. It feels like hours are going by and he is still fucking eating and staring. I begin to remember and whisper to him, he is getting aggravated with me. Yuuji stands and starts to leave. As we reach the door I see her. She walks fast, and hard in the street. She's clutching her purse tight to her body almost sprinting. I have seen one's like her before but she is pulling my attention for some reason. She is heading in the direction that Yuuji follows to get back to school. Somehow without my asking he is keeping pace with her. Not too close but not too far, I can make out her long hair half brown and half blonde. I haven't seen that before. Her shape is like an hour glass, nice round bust (at least from what I can tell from her back) a small waist and large hips. Her butt is round like there are two people side by side blowing big bubbles with bubble gum. She has long muscular legs and with all of that being said somehow her frame is petite. A gust of wind could probably knock her over easily. We end up on a path in the park where she seems to turn left, and Yuuji turns right. I cannot stop thinking about her, I just want to see her face.

"Yuuji, do me a small favor, and I may have to return it."

"What do you want?"

"Follow that girl."

"The two color hair one? She's pretty...but why should I follow her?"

"I will owe it to you if you indulge me just this once. Please follow her...I promise I won't kill her."

"I don't know...this seems risky and I don't know you're not actually going to hurt her. I don't know if I can do that for you."

"I promise I will not kill her. Please just this once, just follow her."

He's thinking it over, I can hear his thoughts. Yuuji is worried that I only seem to repeat my promise not to kill her, and how I won't acknowledge hurting her. He is so cautious of me although he is absolutely right to be. I cannot promise not to hurt her, that is all I want to do.

Yuuji turns to walk in her direction. We walk for over an hour. She had headphones in and has seemed to relax her body. She is completely unaware that he is following her. We near another part of the city by what seems to be an apartment building. Next to it there is an abandoned building about 4 stories tall. My need is building. I am so desperate to see her face I need to get closer. Strangely, as my need grows Yuuji's will to remain in control fades.

"Sukuna what are you doing? I feel like i'm losi.."

SNAP

I am in control now.

This body is growing, my muscles are peaking through, my marks are bright on his skin. I can feel my power growing. This urge is uncontrollable now. I have to get to her before I lose to Yuuji again. I pick up the pace and come within grabbing distance of her. I reach her in front of the abandoned building. I extend my right hand out and spin her around by her right shoulder so fast she almost falls over. I maneuver my left arm to catch her by her waist. She looks up at me stunned, maybe horrified.

"Who the what the what the fuck are you doing? Do I know you?"

Her voice is soft and high pitched. She sounds near tears.

"Nooo you do not know me. You look even better from the front princess. I think I will have you for dinner tonight."

"Wha..what do you mean by that?"

She's shaking. Her face has become red like a ripe tomato. She is doing everything in her power to make herself smaller. Crossing her arms over her chest, bringing her legs tight together, bending her knees ever so slightly making me tower over her; she's been hurt before. People like her had obedience beaten into them. Little does she know this is just fuel to the fire that is burning inside me now.

"I do not say things that I don't mean. I will have you now and for as long as I can stand it. You cannot escape me and I swear that I will have every last fucking part of you."

I cover her mouth and drag her into the building. She is wearing a tight black tank top and a short black skirt. With my right hand over her mouth and arm over her chest I reach with my free hand under her skirt. She's wearing thin silk panties that aren't quit a thong, but seem to blend effortlessly between her cheeks like they were made to be on her. I hook my finger into the top and pull them down to her feet. I lift her and swipe them off of her. She's crying now. Shaking hard and sobbing uncontrollably but not even trying to fight me. I remove my hand from her mouth but bring my arm across her throat. She grabs my arm with a feeble attempt at freeing herself. I bring the base of my hand to her mouth hard. Her bottom lip caught on her teeth and she cries out. Once her mouth is open I stuff her panties inside. I throw her over my shoulder and ascend the stairs. I decide to stop at the third floor, as there is a gaping hole in the wall facing the park that allows the moonlight to illuminate the room. I look around and see a dirty mattress on the floor by the wall next to the crumbled one. There is trash scattered about. I look around for something to tie her up with when I remember Yuuji had rope in his pocket. I do not remember why he had the rope, something to do with training I don't really remember or care. I walk over to the mattress and kneel onto it. I swing her over my shoulder and onto the mattress. Her face is stained with tears and a small amount of snot. I swear she gets prettier the harder she cries.

"Whaauudootttmmmm"

"Princess don't try to talk, and stop crying so much you're going to choke."

I could not make out what she was saying and I did not want to. I turned her on her stomach and pulled both of her arms behind her back. I used the rope to tie her forearms and wrists together behind her. I flip her back on her back and admire my work. I brush my fingers on her outer thighs, damn she is so soft. Her skin feels like butter. She smells so good I think I hear my stomach growl. She looks up at me with pleading eyes still with tears covering her face. I lean in close to her ear and whisper.

"You may call me Sukuna or sir. Nothing else will do. I don't mind a struggle but know if you actually are able to hurt me that will not help you. If anything it might make this urge stronger, and gods help you if that happens."

She nods in compliance. She's trying so hard to keep her legs closed but I am so much stronger. I pry them open and press my pelvis between them. I just can't stop looking at her. Chest heaving, warm body, shaking and panting like she cannot possibly get enough breath in her lungs. I trace my fingers again over her outer thighs, I drag them from her knees to her inner thighs. I reach her skirt and flip it up to her stomach. I press my thumbs and either side of her inner thigh so close to her lips. I glance up to see her eyes shut tight. A smirk emerges across my face. I keep my hands placed and lean down to her lips.

"Open them now."

Still they're shut tight.

"Baby girl open them now I won't ask a third time."

She opens her eyes reluctantly. There's drool pooling at the sides of her face, soaked with saliva and tears, I can feel the fear radiating off of her being feeding my inner heat. I lick her bottom lip, and pull it so lightly with mine. She opens her mouth slowly but not slow enough. I suck her entire bottom lip into my mouth hard, unforgivingly. Her breath is heating my face up and I let go of her lip slightly to where I bite just a little completely off. There is a lot of blood for such a small chunk missing. She cries and screams through her panties to which I chuckle. I bring my hand up to her mouth and toss the panties aside. Her shaky voice is so wonderful. I start sucking hard on her bottom lip drinking up all of the blood I can. I moan at the taste of her fluid. I crash my mouth fully onto hers forcing my tongue inside. I use one hand to choke her with the other sneaks under her back to bring her mid section tight to mine. I feel frenzied like I want to taste more, but I hold back as I am not ready to be done. Her nipples are so stiff now I can hardly ignore it. I release her from our kiss and let go of her throat. She's panting so hard now desperate to catch her breath. I pull her top down underneath her breasts, I did not even realize she wasn't wearing a bra. They're so perky and round. Her nipples have metal bars that pierce them, I haven't seen that before but I think I like it. I take a moment to soak in the scene in front of me. I lower myself to her throat, where I lick and kiss softly. I can feel the vibrations of her subtle moans on my tongue. I move to the side of her neck leaving a trail of butterfly kisses down to her shoulder. I use both hands to press her breasts up and together. I gently suck and bite on her sensitive buds. They feel so amazing inside my mouth. I feel the urge to bite her again, but I think I will wait just a little longer. "This is different", I think to myself, as she adjusts herself. She wraps her legs around my waist and she has stopped crying. She's almost pushing her chest towards me like she wants more. I can hear her little moans as my need grows wild. I let go and smack her face hard. She's bleeding more now, I lick the blood from the corners of her mouth needily. I turn her over and smack her ass even harder, a bruise is already forming. I search Yuuji's pockets and find a little knife. It's smaller than I like but it slices his finger open smooth as can be. I taste the blood dripping off of it. Fuck. I take the little blade and trace the smooth side over her back. She's breathing hard again, but seems conscious not to cry. I flip the knife over and make small slices across her back. Small strokes turn to longer strokes. There is blood everywhere. I can hear her muffled tears. I take the knife to her shoulder and stab into it. She screams and writhes underneath me but there is nowhere to go. I am sitting on her lower back with my shins behind me holding her legs down. I slide the knife out of her and suck the blood from her wound. I lick fervently all over her back being sure to get as much as I can. I ball her hair up in my fist and pull her head towards me. I kneel behind her and wrap my left hand around her throat. I apply pressure slowly to the sides of her neck, I feel her panic seep in as her breathing becomes more shallow. I bring the knife to the top of her genitals. Again teasing her with the back end of it. I use my chin to force her head down so she cannot look away. I use my knees to keep her legs apart and force her to sit on my groin. I make a small slice to the inside of both of her thighs. Blood trickles down her legs. I play with it with my fingers, and bring my fingers to my mouth and suck them clean to taste her once more. I use the blade to slice her some more in the space between the lips of her pussy and her inner thigh. She inhales sharply and cries out gently. I fold the knife up and put it back into the pocket. I spread the blood across her pussy. I can feel it throbbing as I work more and more of her blood across her folds. She presses her butt into my hard cock. Another small moan escaping her. I work her over with small light movements of my fingers. I slide them over her slit and wonder how much she is actually bleeding. It seems to fucking wet and warm, I start to think she was actually sopping on her own. I slip my fingers into her folds and find her clit. She moans a little harder and presses into my member even harder.

"Princess tell me, if you could live without something what would it be?"

I lessen my grip on her throat to allow her to answer me.

"ahh what do you mean? What would I want to live without?"

I am still gently running my finger in circles around her nub.

"If there was a part of you that you could live without what would it be?"

She is looking down at herself, gently moaning and thinking about my question.

"You should think harder before I make that choice for you baby."

"Are you going to try to bite me again like before?"

I can hear the panic start to rise in her voice.

"Well I can just choose myself and let you figure out the rest."

"Okay, okay I know I know what you can have please just let me live please I don't want to be eaten alive I just want to go home I want to go home please please."

"Tell me little girl what part will you live without?"

She is sobbing again. Her face soaked with blood and tears, she mumbles lowly to me.

"You can have the inner lips, the slightly longer ones inside my actual pussy, or the inside of my thighs but nothing else please don't kill me please I am begging you. Do anything to me I can take it I can I don't want to die."

I press my mouth to the nape of her neck with a satisfied low growl. I open the knife once again and slice off her labia. She screeches and collapses face first on the bed. I turn her over and place myself between her legs, careful not to press onto her bleeding mound. She stares back at me, mouth gaping as she watches me suck her flesh into my mouth. I chew slowly and savor the taste of her. My cock stirs, I feel myself almost close to release. I make sure to chew in her face letting the blood seep out of my mouth. I lower myself to her bloody hole. I sit for a second to admire my work. I make a really clean cut. I can smell the irony smell and taste it once more. I bring my tongue over her fresh wounds, I lick and kiss them gently. I begin sucking the blood off of her, and take my tongue in circles around every part of her needy cunt. I settle my tongue on her pulsing clitoris. I start lapping at it, circling it and sucking on it. She's still crying but now she's moaning too. She's breathing so hard and moaning out into the open little curses. I move my mouth to her inner thigh. "I can't help this." I think as I sink my teeth into her. She screams so fucking loud. I can't take it anymore. I press the backs of her thighs to the bed as I tear these clothes off. I pull his pants down and my cock springs free. I dig my claws into her thighs just under her knees and position my tip to her entrance. I take it and slide it over her bloody wet folds, with no warning I slam my long, thick member into her hole. She cries out again, still sobbing and screaming I lean into her face. She's shut her eyes again.

"Open."

She complies.

I wait for her to gather herself as I take her in once again. Staring into her eyes I notice they're green, maybe jade. She's so goddamn pretty all messy like this. I keep our lips touching but sure not to engage and I pull my length out slowly, and slam into her once more. She seems to have forgotten about the pain. She looks into my eyes and evens out her breathing. I slowly pick up the pace, making each stroke hit her in just the right spots. She's so fucking tight and wet she has to want this. She seemed to know exactly what flesh she was willing to part with so easily I imagine she has always wanted this. Our lips graze together as I fuck her harder and harder. She starts to moan in ecstacy.

"Do you like that? Do you like how hard I fuck you? Do you like watching me taste you? Fuck baby girl you taste so goddamn good. You feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock princess. Tell me how much you want this."

She's moaning so loudly now. Crying out for me to bring her to her peak.

"Please don't stop sir, I've never felt so full before. I don't want to stop I need it, I need you."

She's building to her climax. I can feel the walls of her tight little hole almost sucking back, burying me deeper inside of her. I pick up the pace and slam into her. The sounds of her wet cunt sucking on my cock begging for a release is almost too much.

"Tell me what you want baby. Tell me and I'll give it to you just this once. Be a good girl and tell me."

"Sakuna....oh fuck...fuck..please..I wanna feel you inside me...please sir...I'm so close.."

Her walls were pulsing, her climax was coming. I couldn't keep from spilling my cum inside her. Hot, thick ropes of white spurt everywhere. Coating her walls completely, it feels like it lasts so long. My cock jurks repeatedly spilling more and more inside of her. I pull out a little and watch the tip spurt just a little over her lips. It oozes all over it. I notice my balls are soaked, she had been squirting her juices all over me. I fucking loved it.

I collapsed on top of her. I could feel my control fading..before I knew it, I was gone.

SNAP

I came to when I heard Yuuji sniffling. He was looking at this girl in front of us. She was covered in her own blood and juices. He saw my cum seeping out of her pussy, as well as the slices there. He pulled her up gently. Sitting her up he untied the rope from her arms and placed it back into his pocket. She looked at him so confused as to the change in appearance. He stared back, unusually blank in his own mind. He helped her to her feet. She was not able to walk well. He picked her up bridal style and carried her out of the building. He brought her to a near by hospital and sat her in the edge of the parking lot on a small patch of grass. She looked back at him.

"You're not Sakuna anymore....are you...?"

"No. My name now is of no importance. I am sure if you yell loud enough someone will come get you. Make sure you are seen you will not recover from this on your own."

With that he began to walk away.

"Hey! I'm Ari..... I am sure I'll be seeing you again."

She yelled to him. He kept his pace.

"Why did you not take her inside? That seems very unlike you Itadori."

Silence follows, I can hear him searching for the words to answer me.

"You know Sukuna...sometimes I get tired of being the nice guy."

#sukuna #itadori yuji #jujutsu kaisen

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morphituu · 4 years

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Milagro

Chapter 16: The Hidden Race

Ch: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15

“Okay okay,” Nick cleared his throat, shimmying his shoulders before taking Callie’s small hands in his and leaning forward to press their foreheads together.

Don’t laugh, don’t laugh, don’t laugh- but as soon as he caught sight of the grin she fought, he was following it with a loud snort and a barely contained smile.

“I can’t do it,” he whined while pressing his face into his palms. “You keep making faces,”

“I’m not making anything, it’s just my face!” Callie defended.

“It looks funny!”

Her eyes narrowed. “My face is funny looking?”

“Yeah cuz you keep making faces,”

“Might I suggest,” the photographer interjected, raising his hand. “We try a different position?”

The couple looked at him, Callie’s global stomach in Nick’s hands where she was perched in his lap before the silky backdrop that had been set up in their living room for the maternity photos they all had been struggling through the past hour.

“Does he have to keep looking at my funny face?” Callie mouthed off, ignoring the roll of Nick’s eyes.

“Nope!” the young man stood with his impressive camera in hand, smoothing down his slacks.

She looked to Nick skeptically who in turn appeared willing, and he carefully hoisted her up once she slid back from his lap.

“This is better,” Nick spoke against her stomach, his arm hung loosely over her side and their thighs stacked as the photographer fluffed the plush comforter around the pair.

Callie wiggled this way and that, asking Nick to stuff part of the blanket under her for support when his other arm alone didn’t offer enough. Finally they punched enough pillows into submission and layered enough blankets for the sunlight coming through the window to cast over them beautifully in the late afternoon.

“Okay, y’all ready?” the young man asked as he ascended a ladder, secretly pleased with himself for setting up such a picturesque moment so hastily.

“Ready,” Callie exhaled with a final wiggle deeper into the bedding.

His hold on the camera adjusted as he peered through the viewfinder, twisting the lens delicately. “Okay Nick, let’s have you put your hand back on her thigh?”

Nick listened, the vibrant red of the roses across her hip and thigh striking against his dark, mottled skin.

“And Callie, your hand over your stomach?”

Just as she’d done so, Nick pressed a secret, tender kiss to the top of her stomach when Leo nudged, lost in the moment and forgetful of the camera looming overhead.

“Just like that, don’t move!” the photographer instructed, squinting through the viewfinder and his camera clicking rapidly in a flurry of shots.

The arm under his head shifted, and Nick purred when her hand stroked the back of his head, craning his neck back to press his head under her chin.

“You two are very photogenic,”

Nick scoffed. “You mean she’s photogenic,”

“You have a very nice side profile,” he emphasized, curled over the ladder to take advantage of more extreme angles.

Callie caught the beginnings of a blush, tapping his carved cheek until he chuffed. “I told you you were pretty,” she whispered.

The flat glare she met once he looked up stirred a giggle, but he maneuvered his head back down in time for the photographer to take another round of pictures, directing their hands and even managing to get one of them looking at each other before the giggle fits returned.

“Alright, give it about two weeks and I’ll call when they’re ready.” The young man smiled, handing over the receipt and business card to Nick as he was walked to the front door.

Callie gave her most convincing smile until the door was closed, and then her arms dropped, a deep breath falling past her lips as she waddled to the couch. In record time the tights she’d slipped on to remain presentable after the shoot had finished were pushed down her legs, then the tanktop that felt like spanx against her hot skin was tossed off to leave her in the bralette and panties, and remembered this time to flip on the ceiling fan before lowering herself slowly into the couch, her body melting into the cushions.

Nick came back around to spot her taking in deep breaths and exhaling slowly, her eyes slid shut and brows furrowed in discomfort.

“Cramps?” he leaned on his hands against the armrest to gaze down at her.

“Hot flash and angry kicks,” she groaned, looking at him through one eye she could barely manage to keep open.

“Want the AC on?”

“Nooo,” she lamented. “Even with it on they still suck,”

Nick squatted beside the arm rest, his chin atop his folded arm while one of his wide palms rested where Leo shoved, keeping his amused smile at bay while she so clearly struggled through the discomforts of late pregnancy.

“Are you gonna be okay?” he asked in concern.

“Oh yeah. My ass is staying planted here the better part of the day,” Callie grinned, wincing when Leo tried standing. “Come talk to your son so he stops punishing me,” she groaned, arching back into the cushions.

Nick eagerly crawled around the couch and kneeled between her thighs although she protested against the heat of his body, pressing his cheek to her round stomach.

“Leonardo Makar, you listen,” he started, a solid kick pushing against his chin. “You don’t have much longer until you can come out and stretch those legs, but you need to take it easy on your mama. You’re gonna end up bursting from her stomach like an alien if you keep it up,”

“That’s horrifying,” she chuckled.

“Just a little bit longer mausan boausan,” he kissed, rubbing his cheek there.

“And then you can carry him,”

“I’ll never put him down,”

“Until your arms get tired,” she giggled. With his arms wrapped securely around her waist and gazing up at her big caramel eyes with his chin atop her stomach, it gave her the chance to canvas the deep tiredness in his eyes, and how they started to slide shut when she dragged her nails across his scalp.

“They’re getting worse,” she mumbled, but he only shook his head.

“They’re just back is all,” he corrected.

“You know you can talk to me about them, so they’re not stuck up here,” she tapped his temple.

“No. I don’t want to talk about them,” he groaned, hiding his face.

“You wake up screaming, baby,”

“And then I see you and I’m fine,”

“Nick,”

He reluctantly looked up again, knowing there was no escaping when she held his face, but why would he want to when her thumbs stroking under his eyes was so lulling?

“Talk to me,” she begged quietly.

He barely shook his head. “You don’t wanna know what I dream about,”

“I do if it means some piece of mind for you,”

He shrugged before standing. “I’m okay. I have more important things to worry about,”

“Like what?”

“Learning how to swaddle,” he grinned cheekily before walking into their room, leaving her to stretch across the couch with a defeated sigh.

The terrors that gripped him in his sleep had worsened since the time they’d first developed, but his refusal to seek any more help after what he called ‘useless therapy’ and sleeping medication that drowned him enough to slumber through a few morning alarms was the battle that needed to be fought first. There wasn’t any use scheduling appointments or showing the options until he was actually willing.

“Nick! Nick!” she tried screaming over his roars, his thrashing arms flinging into her stomach and chest as she fought to still him. A hard blow landed against her cheek sent her back into the sheets, tears springing to her eyes when the throbbing started to crawl across her face. She kicked back from him when his legs thrashed, but this couldn’t go on.

One of his wild kicks came deathly close to her stomach, but when he’d twisted onto side, she dared the chance to throw herself over him and sit over his stomach.

“Nick!” she yelled, grabbing for his face, but his sharp teeth grazed her palm, slicing easily through her skin. Callie flinched back, blood already pooling in her grasp, but she bit back the anxiousness firing to every end of her body to raise her unscathed hand and swing it against his cheek.

Nick’s eyes flew open, the last of a forlorn holler choked down as he acclimated to his surroundings.

His wide, reflective eyes bounced around in the dark until they landed on her above, the pair panting, dazed, and trembling.

He gazed up at her past the hair tousled before her face, about to ask what had happened, when he tasted the blood on his teeth. He flinched back from his own fingers once he touched his lips, looking back to her frantically.

“What did I do?” he breathed, sliding from beneath her.

“It’s okay-”

“Show me,” he demanded, reaching to turn on the lamp. She angled her chin down to hide her cheek that was still ringing, but Nick had already seen the deep red that would bleed purple and green soon enough. He angled her jaw, his face sorrowing.

“What did I-” he gasped, the fresh spice of her blood bringing him to her palm.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” she pulled her bloody hand back, but his tired eyes were brimming with hot tears and unspoken apologies, his ragged breaths quickening.

“I’m- I’m so sorry,” he hiccuped, grabbing the sheet to press against her hand. “I’m so so sorry-”

“It wasn’t your fault,” she had his face again, her brows lined with determination, and although the pain was creeping into her eye, their gazes locked. following his head when he tried looking away in shame.

Nick’s head shook the farther it dropped, his shoulders shaking.

“Baby it’s okay,” she implored, trying to sit him upright, but he was already sobbing silently.

Callie surrounded his wide shoulders as best she could, echoing to him that all was well, but he was too far gone in his own guilt, not to mention the vivid nightmares still playing on loop in his mind.

Nick had lost himself in the memory as he stared at the disheveled bed; embarrassment was what reigned supreme over him now, but if he thought on it long enough, the guilt could blind him.

Callie was right, something needed to be done before it was Leo he ended up swinging into, but Nick couldn’t bring himself to even whisper the horrible images that played before him as he slumbered. He felt if he spoke of them and the way they made his stomach roil at just the mention of them, it would give them greater strength, if that was even possible.

“Get your foot out of there!” he heard Callie lament, and a grin cracked across his face.

Maybe Leo would be the solution, he pondered as he pulled on his shoes.

With the troubling thoughts pushed to the back of his mind to deal with another time, he came out into the living room again to find her moving objects across the kitchen bar around, but this had been the third time this week she’d found a new way to arrange the cups that held their pens and loose change, and now incense burners were perched at each end.

Nick watched over her shoulder as he grabbed his keys from the hook, his brows perking up when she placed her hands on her hips with a low puff and turned to look up at him.

“Restless?”

“I’m losing my mind, honestly,” she started swaying side to side when Leo spun. “And he keeps kicking me in the ribs,” she whined, pushing down on her stomach.

“We should set up the glider so you can relax while you rock him,”

“I was gonna call your mom to ask if she’d come help me with that today, actually,”

Nick’s ears twitched, his lips pulling into a straight line. “Don’t mention the house hunting,”

“You haven’t told her yet?” Callie griped, and he shook his head stiffly. “Do you not want to anymore?”

“No I do, but it’s a long stressful process and I’m just-”

“Tired all the time?” she interjected, lightly smacking his side when he lolled his head back to avoid her perceptive eyes. When she waited stubbornly, he looked down to her, eventually nodding.

“Gimmee a kiss,” she desired, stood on her tippy-toes to meet him halfway once dipping down to capture her mouth. She moaned appreciatively when he placed small repetitive pecks there, holding her small face and chuckling when her eyes fluttered drowsily.

“I gotta go,” he groused, resting a firm kiss on her cheek. “I love you,”

“You can’t avoid the topic forever,” she fought, but received a playful chuff in return, stepping towards the door with a final graze across her stomach.

He knew, and took her pleas seriously, but staring at her cheek that was bruised beneath the cover-up caused a wide stir of emotions he couldn’t take to work that day.

“I’ll figure something out, okay?” he tried reassuring, but her nod was still stiff, her mein anxious.

“Be safe,” she pouted, stirring a grin from Nick.

“Always am.” With that he left, leaving Callie to waddle back to the couch for a quick nap as he loaded into his truck.

↠

It wasn’t until he was walking through the back doors of the precinct did Nick realize that his bag was much lighter than usual because he’d forgotten the lunch Callie had packed for him, and when he turned down the hall towards the lockers his shoulder clipped the wall, further aggravating his already testy state of mind.

It was only the early afternoon and his sleep deprivation was catching up to him, his hands clumsily punching the buttons for an energy drink at the vending machine outside the lockers. The human ones were tame compared to the Orkish selection they conveniently never refilled, but it was the best he had to hopefully keep him going the rest of the day.

The drink was thrown back in a few mighty gulps, the can crushed in his fist before tossing it away as he wound his way through the lockers until coming up on Sergey who was already half dressed in his uniform.

“Lagging it today old man,” he teased, removing the ring gauges from his ears to fit the solid ones in.

“Shut up,” Nick yawned.

Sergey glanced over while Nick sluggishly pulled his pullover off. His brows curled in curiosity.

“Already feeling the sleepless nights before Leo is here?”

Nick eyed him; should I tell him? “Gettin’ it in before he gets here,” he smirked sleepily.

That was a lie. His exhaustion had all but muted his sex drive.

“You hound,” Sergey’s nose scrunched, his own smirk playing. Although Nicks excuse was false, Sergey and Dura were in fact squeezing in as much time as possible before Mariak was born, which wasn’t much farther than Leo’s own due date.

“Hey Jakoby,”

Nick turned mid pull of his undershirt down his body to find Tuvets, a heavyset officer he’d not really interacted with much waddling towards him, his uniform unbuttoned and beer belly hanging over his belt. He withheld a shudder; gotta cut back on the drinking.

“You handing these out?” Tuvets smiled, a bit winded. Handed over was the baby shower invites Nick had been passing around very choosingly, so the fact he had one was unsettling. Never did he think to give him one.

“Why do you have this?” Nick questioned, placing it in his locker despite the officer keeping his palm up for it’s return.

“Ahh, I saw it in Campos’s locker and took a look,” he laughed, waving off the invasion of privacy that Nick clearly disliked. “Being a little stingy with those invites, aren’t ya?”

Nick growled below his breath. “I don’t talk to many people here,” he decided to go with, flatly that was. He even kept his face in his locker to show how little he wanted to interact, but these kinds of people just didn’t understand social cues.

“Maybe if you tried talking to other people besides the string-bean once in a while,”

“Fuck you, Tuvets,” Sergey called from behind, flattening the velcro of his vest along his sides.

“Ah take a chill pill,” he waved him off. “I’m just saying, people think you’re a little… snobby the way you don’t try t’talk to anyone,” he went on, leaning closer despite Nick reclining.

“Oh that’s it?” Nick replied sarcastically.

“See like that! Try smiling once in a while too,” he beamed, his stained teeth making his stomach roil, not to mention the permanent beer breath many others leaned far away from if they were unlucky enough to be pinned by an unwanted conversation.

Nick chose not to answer, instead just nodding and going about buttoning up his shirt.

He knew Tuvets was lingering, but didn’t know why. He hoped if he stayed silent he’d finally get the hint and waddle off, but when the round man leaned back against the lockers, Nick dreaded knowing it meant he still wanted to talk.

“Hey uh… can I ask you something?”

There it is. “Hm?” Nick mumbled. Maybe if I ignored him he’d leave...

Tuvets glanced around them, leaning farther in. “Why’d you choose a human?”

Both his ears and eyes flickered in confusion. “What?”

“I mean, why didn’t you… y’know,” he rocked his hips. “With an Orc instead of a human?”

“How is that any of your business?” Nick snapped, his voice rising.

“It’s not, it’s just something most of us can’t figure out,” he tried to act innocent, but Nick knew it was either a weird kink of his or more bigoted nature coming forth. “I don’t mean anything offensive. Just can’t figure out why you didn’t stick with Orcs,”

“I don’t know- when you met your wife did you consciously tell yourself you only wanted human?” Nick retorted.

“Well no but-”

“No buts. It’s the same thing,” he made his tone final, his hardened expression hopefully conveying that he wanted nothing more to do with this conversation as he turned back to his locker.

The small breath of silence nearly convinced Nick that he’d gotten the point and would wander away, that was until he spoke again.

“But you had to have known having a halfling was wrong,”

Even Sergey’s head snapped to attention when that floated through the locker room, but Nick was already fuming, his pupils pin-sized and back straightening as a more combative side started to cloak over him.

“What the fuck does that mean?” he growled, his voice rippling.

Tuvets side-stepped uncomfortably. “It’s just something that you don’t do, you know? They’re not appropriate-”

“But pale faces can fuck their cousins and siblings?” Nick boomed.

“That’s a far leap-”

“Farther than spitting shit that has no evidence to back it up?” Nick snarled, angrily stepping towards him.

“Forget it Nick, c’mon-” Sergey tried pulling him back, but he pulled his burly arms from his grip roughly.

“Jakoby chill, I’m sure your halfling will be fine-”

“His name is Leo!” Nick shouted, right in Tuvets’s face now who flinched away from the thundering voice and sharp teeth bared at him. “I’ll skin you alive if you ever mention him again you disgusting sack of shit.” Nick finished, his chuff forceful enough that it blew spit in Tuvets’s face.

At last Sergey managed to pull Nick away, silencing the low Orkish mutters he still emitted while his eyes kept steady on Tuvets.

“I didn’t mean anything by it, brother,” Tuvets grinned, but Sergey’s hand on his chest stopped him from getting to Nick again.

Although Sergey felt the same annoyance that was meager compared to Nick’s fury, he pleaded with his softer golden eyes for him to just walk away before his iron built partner turned him into a pile of ground meat. There was a second more of resistance, but a final, gentle push against his chest had the sphere shaped man shaking his head and walking away, leaving the two Orcs with eyes on them from all directions.

“You’ve all got nothing better to do?” Sergey snapped, waiting until most of them had returned to their own private conversations to turn back to Nick who had his vest on now, pulling the side flaps roughly about himself.

“Lat mir?” he asked, and with a long exhale, Nick nodded, his vision that had bled over clearing up.

Sergey patted his shoulder firmly, moving back to his locker. He knew offering any words of consolation would only be poking the beast. Even if he could ease some of his friends anger, it would do nothing to calm the inevitable heartache when people would still find something wrong with his halfling son, but he would be lying if he said he hadn’t wondered the same thing about Nick. Having known who he was even before he joined the force, it struck him as odd that he’d choose to couple with the race that so despised him, and furthermore breed knowing the stigma surrounding halflings.

The harassment he’d received alone from joining the LAPD and filing his own tusks had nearly been enough to make him step back from his decision, and he was blooded. Nick had come into it with the whole world against him; absolutely no one to show any real faith in him, and here he was playing with fire again.

It never made him think differently of the man he’d come to respect and look up to, but the questions still floated about in his mind on occasion.

Why would he choose to make his life more difficult than it already is?

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.” Nick grumbled once finished, buckling his utility belt in place before stalking out of the locker room.

Sergey followed quickly, still fixing his collar as they made their way to the morning briefing.

↠

“Are you sure you got it?” Dinara called, staring intently down at the two slender pieces of wood she was securing together.

“Yep!” Callie grunted from down the hall. The soft scraping of an object of substantial weight prompted Dinara to look away from her task at hand, but it wasn’t until she spotted Callie from the corner of her eyes hunched over and inching backwards did she start to rise from the floor.

“Whaav ayh laat- Calista, put that down!” she exclaimed, hurrying over to move Callie away from the colossal metal tool box she’d resorted to dragging down the hall from the laundry room.

“I only have a few more feet!” she fought breathlessly, but Dinara already had it in hand to carry into Leo’s room. “Nevermind, you clearly got it,”

“Thought an old woman like me could not handle this?”

“You’re the same size as me, I thought it would tip you over,” she shrugged.

“I carry one of these around with me when I work,” she exhaled as she sat again, offering an upturned palm to help lower a global Callie down next to her.

“Is what you needed in here?” she asked, returning to organizing the screws and washers into neat piles.

“He should, Oleg would scold him if he didn’t have- here it is,” Dinara smiled, holding up an allen wrench. “I can’t believe they didn’t include one,”

“Let’s demand a refund so we can buy you one,” Callie smiled deviously only to receive a playful roll of her eyes in return. “I mean, I can only assume we’ll be visiting more with Leo, so you’ll need one too,”

“And when you have more,” she placed the constructed base down, looking over her glasses. “I’ll have everything still,”

Callie was still, trying not to convey that she too had been in love with the idea of having a mini-nation of her own, but knew realistically this was probably her only time.

“You’ll need a bigger home than this,”

Callie dropped the cushion she’d been moving, fumbling to pick it up.

Dinara observed silently, smirking to herself as she spun the allen wrench. “Am I wrong for assuming you’d want more?”

“No, no no. I’ve always wanted a big family, I just don’t know if I can make anymore, mentally or physically,” Callie explained briefly, her grin folding into a playful frown.

Dinara nodded thoughtfully. “This little boy has taken a lot out of you, hasn’t he?”

“Nothing I wouldn’t mind giving up,” she assured. “But getting to this point was just… turbulent,”

“I hear that,” she nodded whilst starting to align the next part of the frame.

Callie had already gnawed her inner lip raw when she out of habit pulled her lips to the side, and she couldn’t bounce her leg the way she was perched on the floor. There was nowhere for this nervousness to go, until-

“We wanna look at bigger houses first,” Callie near blurted, but now she could see Nick’s tired eyes staring down at his phone when his mother would inevitably call to try setting this idea in motion.

Fuck.

“How long has this been decided?” Dinara questioned inquisitively.

“Jus’like’acoupleweeks?” Callie babbled, shoulders pulling up and in.

The first time Callie had caught Dinara staring at Nick the way she now did to her, she at last discovered just where Nick had developed the flat stare that often made her laugh, including now when she cut off a hard snort upon looking back to Dinara.

“I just closed on a three bedroom, I could’ve stalled,”

“I think it has to do with schedules, more than anything,” Callie tried covering.

“Is he working more?” his mother asked, her hands slowing.

“No,” Callie cleared her throat. “He just comes home exhausted so doing anything around that is tricky,”

“Why’s he so tired? You should be the one napping all the time,” Dinara cracked, standing to assemble higher pieces.

Callie had to stop herself from spitting it out like a red hot coal. There were no more avenues to turn down in hopes of convincing Nick to seek help once again for the nightmares that ruled his dreams, and the thought of consulting his parents had come to the forefront of her mind, but she didn’t want to break his trust after promising she wouldn’t since the first time those years ago the nightmares had manifested.

But did he see how he was torturing himself the longer he denied help? Surely not like she did.

“Did Nick ever have nightmares when he was little?” she asked cautiously, looking up to meet Dinara’s alarmed eyes.

“They’re starting again,” she replied definitively, an old heartache blooming after laying long dormant.

That blind sided Callie. “So he’s had them?” she asked, suddenly facing a monster instead of it’s shadow.

Dinara looked down at her hands fiddling with the screwdriver; an old habit that had died since Callie had stepped into Nick’s life.

“They first started when he was six, when he wasn’t telling us about the other boys at school that had singled him out,” she spoke sadly, coming to sit beside Callie with her back against the dresser. “It started as words but exploded into a couple fresh bruises a week. The school was useless, the other parents said it was boys being boys despite not knowing how my son begged every morning not to go anymore,”

“What happened?” Callie asked wide-eyed, her hand on her chest.

“Oleg started teaching him how to defend himself, but that only resulted in worse fights. Ukmall shifted from a smiling boy, to sad to an angry one so quickly- I can’t imagine how his heart must’ve hurt,”

Dinara’s head shook at the grim recollections; how badly she wanted to help her son but couldn’t make it past his walls.

“And during it all, he’d wake up screaming from the nightmares. Before Nick was,” she tensed her arms, grunting to display strength and momentarily lifting Callie’s sorrows. “He was a scrawny little teen, but it took all of Oleg to hold him down one night he woke up kicking and swinging,”

“It went on for that long?”

“Until he graduated, really. In college, he kept his head down and that was enough to keep people away for the most part, but Jirak if that boy didn’t fight our help every step of the way. No medication, no counseling, no even talking about it! He always told me ‘Ma, I can handle it’ and I’d…” she stopped to breathe, her warm sunflower eyes staring ahead as she steadied that tremble in her voice.

Callie had already been tearing, the imaginings of a child Nick learning at such an open hearted, innocent age that the world hated him for who he was, even before hate could be taught to him.

“I’d hold him when he finally woke up and tell him that holding in the fear was poisoning him. That even if he didn’t like it, he had to take medicine to cure the sickness,”

“And he listened?” Callie sniffled, using the bottom of her old sleeping shirt to wipe her misty cheeks.

Dinara nodded, also dabbing under her glasses. “It wasn’t much but the talking he did seemed to do the trick. Nick has always been one to keep things in here,” she motioned towards her chest. “But he forgets that everything has a limit,”

Callie agreed; it was a relief to know that maybe they weren’t destined to have sleepless nights, or risk what she didn’t have the heart to use as leverage against him: harming Leo.

“What’s on his mind then?” his mother asked having returned to the task at hand after composing herself.

“If he’d tell me he wouldn’t be punching me at 2 am,” Callie murmured a little bitterly.

“He’ll break soon. Exhaustion makes people weak, but I hope it’s sorted before he flings Leo into a wall,”

Callie shuddered, visibly disturbed by such a possibility; a stark one that had real grounds to stand on.

A sharp cramp rang up her stomach, pinching her eyes shut and starting a tight side to side shifting of her foot. Since the nights of screaming has started, her days had only been filled with cramps that made her stop in her tracks.

Her doctor had only needed a passing glance at Callie’s tired shoulders and jittering hands to recognize the stress that was coming off her in waves, but simply telling her to ‘avoid the stressors’ meant avoiding Nick, something she didn’t want to do at all.

“You better not pop before I have this, God forsaken piece ro ukhiav done.” Dinara snarled from behind her slim tusks and although her stomach was taut with a stinging cramp Callie laughed.

↠

It had been peaceful the better part of their late start to the day. Although the heat was steadily rising in LA, it didn’t seem enough to start the usual ‘summer rumble’ they faced yearly, but the two Orcs that sat in the old, beaten cruiser knew soon enough they’d be sweating off their body weight during chases and stand-offs. It would be best to soak in this downtime, but two high-strung and hormone driven Orcs would soon tire of the silence.

Nick had also chosen this particularly quiet street specifically for that reason: there was never any traffic. Maybe a double parking ticket every once in a blue moon, but all that was here were old homes with older inhabitants that stayed well below the speed limits. With that he didn’t feel the pressing need to keep his eyes up and alert and instead dragged them down at least ten different articles he’d devoured in the past hour, all of them detailing the stigma that was halflings.

The morphs, the disorders that sometimes came with them, the rarity of certain races crossing over; then he started getting into the numbers, more troubling, the few recorded births of halflings, but the high number of suicides and murders amongst them, that being mostly in teens, even some in adolescence.

“Amongst this hidden race of outcasts lies a startling epidemic of secret families, sometimes secret half-siblings, that officials are now warning of, and I quote, ‘A growing problem that we urge you to prevent. Stay well within your race not only to avoid the deadly disorders these children are born with, but the life of cruelty you’ll be putting your offspring through-“

He chucked his phone into the center console, rubbing his tired eyes with the heels of his palms.

“You alright?” Sergey asked around the Orkish jerky he’d been chewing on.

There was a pause before Nick nodded, dropping his hands and looking out to the street.

Sergey stuffed his own phone away. “Are you thinking about Leo?” He didn’t really need an answer. Since they’d left the precinct Nick had been either quiet or impatient, throwing objects around the car or snapping at the smallest of things, but who could blame him? His son was already receiving the harassment most kids had a chance at avoiding until their later years.

“I know I’m not one that’s good with words and I can’t begin to understand what you’re feeling, but if you need to vent, I’m here,” Sergey offered, but Nick didn’t acknowledge him. His knee was bouncing, and surely his mind was racing, but he remained composed.

The young Orc didn’t take offense to it and turned back to take his phone out when Nick spoke.

“I feel like I fucked up my own kids life,”

Sergey looked at him in dismay. “How?”

Nick sighed, his head bouncing back against the seat. “How could I bring a child into a world that hates halflings more than Orcs? What the fuck was I thinking?”

“You… you regret…?”

“No!” Nick snapped, glaring. “I…” he trailed off, choosing his words carefully. “I wanted nothing more than to give Callie a family and I’m- I’m so excited, but if anything happens to him, it’ll be my fault,”

“No it won’t, you can’t blame yourself for other people's cruelty,” Sergey urged, but Nick shook his head.

“If Callie’d had a human baby this wouldn’t even be an issue. What’ll it do to her if Leo doesn’t make it past high school?” he mumbled despondently.

“Have you talked to her about it?”

“No. I don’t wanna burden her,”

“Don’t be stupid. You wanna have halflings together in this world but you won’t talk to her about it?” Sergey rattled off, chuffing back just as heatedly when Nick fired one at him. “Say it out loud again and see how dumb it sounds,”

Nick’s face was twisted in annoyance, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it because it really did sound stupid. He’d gone and used that same, empty, dangerous excuse twice in his time with Callie and it had almost resulted in her life ending, yet here he was again.

“You’re burdening her by not telling her,”

“Shut up already,” Nick mumbled.

More silence passed between them with Nick tugging at a frayed string on his uniform and Sergey observing the roads around them.

You’re burdening her by not telling her.

I thought I was saving her heartache. “She’s been nothing but happy when all she was before Leo was sad. I didn’t wanna take that away from her,”

Sergey nodded in understanding. “Do you think it would’ve changed her mind about being a mom to a halfling?”

“Never. I watch her look at the ultrasounds and Leo’s kicks in a way she’s never looked at me before. Nothing could change that,”

“Then what’s stopping you?”

It wasn’t even a question he needed to ask himself at that point. “Me. I keep reading stuff about halflings and the suicides and- and did you know there isn’t even an accurate number that makes up a percentage of halflings? They’re born in homes in secret because of the backlash they face. It’s like they’re excluded from basic rights,”

“I mean, yeah, that’s grim but wouldn’t you do everything in your power to make sure Leo didn’t meet that same fate?”

“That’s a rhetorical question,”

“I think it’s one you need to ask yourself as a reminder,” Sergey said derisively. “What good does worrying do for a future you can prevent?”

Nick opened his mouth to speak, but… it was true. How many times had he told Callie to think in the now, not the upcoming?

“At least you know your heart is in the right place. Now you just need to get that weird shaped head there,” Sergey beamed until Nick punched his arm forcefully. “You know I knew a halfling once,”

Nick’s ears flickered. “Yeah?”

Sergey nodded. “He was a Brezzik mix, and I’ll admit he was straight out of a horror film but he was one of the smartest people I knew, and quiet. He had like two friends in high school but would still interact like anyone else if they gave him the chance,”

“Did he…?” Nick asked, his finger pointing to his temple like a gun.

“I thought he did cuz after high school he up and vanished, but a couple years later I saw him in a grocery store with one of the same friends, just doing their thing like anyone else,”

“Just a normal guy?”

“Aren’t we all?”

Those words stuck with Nick as he flipped them back and forth in his mind. Often he’d thought of himself as the odd one out, and the harassment he’d endured solidified that for years, but what wasn’t normal about himself? What had he done in his life that anyone else wouldn’t? He was where most has trouble getting; a job, a roof he could keep over his head, Callie.

Leo was to be born into a hard world, but the ideal home.

Nick sighed softly, his exhaustion at last finding its end. The ideal home.

He stifled a low whine when he realized that this all could’ve been sorted with Callie’s help if he hadn’t been so stubborn, and in addition came upon the realization that since he’d locked her from his thoughts, she must’ve been stressing as well. And he’d noticed it! Her troubles showed so clearly and the past week she’d been jittery and stressed and in pain, but here he was thinking he was making everything better again by keeping his big mouth shut.

With a louder groan this time, he held his face wondering if any amount of food or gifts or apologies would ever be enough to convince her to marry him at this point.

“Don’t fret, old man. I’m here to help.” Sergey patted his arm affectionately, but coughed when Nick slugged him in the side.

He certainly could’ve reclined his seat and slept right there in his car before the taco shop in a matter of seconds if he wanted, but Nick was determined to get these enchiladas home to Callie in hopes it would pacify her before spilling the dread he’d been carrying.

But would it help when he started apologizing like an idiot?

Nick scoffed. “No.” His thumbs flew across the screen of his phone to text Callie he had the goods and was on his way home before turning the key in the ignition. It was a little unusual she was up so late when lately she’d been conking out by nine, but maybe the earlier promise of food had kept her up.

The drive home was quick through the empty streets as was collecting his belongings and towering bag of food once parked in the driveway.

It was a struggle to disarm the alarm once stepping through the door with his hands full, and it made him wonder how much practice he should be getting in before it was a car seat and diaper bag in hand.

“Baby?” he called out, setting his bags down on the table stacked with laundry piles.

Always he looked down at Pucca’s box besides the TV, her paw print and collar perched neatly beside it.

“Hey girl,” he said lowly, swiping his hand across the top to rid it of the fine layer of dust.

“In here!” Callie’s voice floated from the bathroom, and he padded down the hall once kicking his shoes off to find her comically stretched out in the bath, a knee hooked over the edge and all.

“Are you stuck?” he teased, but she flipped him off.

“Your mom made those spicy pork kebabs today and he’s been bouncing ever since,” she groaned tiredly, moving her bubbly covered hand from her stomach when Nick sat beside the tub to trace his fingertips over her wet skin.

“Think he’s gonna be a runner when he’s older?” Nick asked.

“I think by the time he’s ready to walk he’ll go straight to sprinting,”

He chuckled, simply placing his hands flat. It was becoming easier to feel which part of Leo was nudging. Once learning how to cup his head through her lower belly meant elbows were obvious from knees or feet, sometimes the soft impression of an arm showing.

“How was work?” she asked, reaching to use the back of her knuckles to trace his cheek.

“Uneventful,” he sighed, leaning in her touch. “Didn’t even write a ticket,”

“Easy money,” she grinned.

“Did you two get the glider up?”

“Eventually. I offered my expertise which was nothing at all so your mom did all the work,” Callie laughed, her smile fading when Nick started to doze off with his chin rested on his arm. “You should go to bed,”

“M-mm. I wanna eat,” he said through a closed jaw.

“Don’t wait for me then,”

“M-mm,”

“Mi amore,” she cooed, opening his heavy eyes. “You need all the rest you can get,”

“I get it,”

“Not as much lately,” she approached cautiously. He looked away, his cheek now rested on his arm and exhaling when she dragged her nails across his scalp. His touch still remained on her stomach, but he’d since gone still, his sleeve even dipping into the warm water without his notice. He was so out of it he didn’t even know his jacket was inside out; it was the third time it’d happened in a weeks time.

“You know you can talk to me,” she said softly, but only his eyes opened. “No matter how bad they are, I wanna know so I can help,”

“It’s not the nightmares, baby,” he groaned, rolling his head back to face her. “It’s what’s causing them,”

“Tell me then,” she didn’t mean for it to come out as a plea, but she was desperate to help. Never before had she’d seen him so consumed by his own dark thoughts, barely able to drag himself upright and face another daunting day.

Nick better situated himself beside the tub so he didn’t slip into a slumber while talking, and took a breath. “I feel like I set Leo up to become another statistic,”

Her brows pulled together in confusion. “What do you mean?”

This was a risk telling her; surely she’d find the same articles he came upon and feel- if not worse- the torment he did. “Do you know how rare it is for a halfling to grow into adulthood?”

“Because of the suicides?”

Nick blinked a couple times. “You-”

“Yep, every single one. As soon as I hit twelve weeks I couldn’t stop reading them,”

Nick was taken aback. “You’re not freaking out!?”

“I did for a hot minute, but then I thought of you,” she smiled, even giggling when his ears flicked in confusion. “You’ve had such a tough life that by all means should’ve ended you a long time ago, but you’re here,”

“Because of you,”

“Who was there before me though?” she asked, spinning to also rest her chin on her arm beside his.

“My parents,” he mumbled, and when he brows perked up, it made sense.

“If your parents gave you that same stubbornness that got you to where you are, I want Leo to have it too. It’s our job to protect him, but we also need to teach him to be strong and resilient, and that he can do anything he wants to in life despite being labeled,”

“I wasn’t a halfling though,”

“No, but you’re the first for a lot of things. Leo won’t be the first halfling,”

He stared into her endless eyes, and the serenity they emitted. “The numbers don’t freak you out at all?”

“Nope. I fucking refuse to let him become just another number logged. He’s our son, our boy. He’s gonna grow to be a man and live a fulfilling life, better than ours, and if hate comes with it then so be it, but he’s gonna learn to swing back when life takes swings at him, Nick. He’s gonna be just like you, baby,”

Her forehead came to press against his when he exhaled shakily, closing his eyes to hide the shine of fresh tears. He chuffed to fight off the torrent of emotions, but she only held his face, promising they could do this together, assuring him he wasn’t alone in this fight with his fears.

After a few moments of sly wipes across his eyes and some softer words that finally brought his face back to her so she could kiss him, Nick felt that the crushing weight of fatherhood perched on his shoulders could be lifted over time; all he needed was to build the strength to take on this next chapter of his life, just like any other thing he’d came out of on top.

“Let’s go then,” she sniffled, kissing him again. “I wanna eat,”

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat, standing to help her up and wrap a towel around her sudsy body.

“You know the practice we get in with Leo means we’ll be experts the second time around,” she teased, and his eyes narrowed.

“You talked to her about it today, didn't you?”

“No but she almost cornered me with it, and the bigger house thing,” Callie explained while she went about drying herself off.

“She’s clever. Before you know it we’ll be in a mansion without any money left for food or electricity,”

“We wanted a mansion anyways,” she shrugged, yelping when he pinched her side.

“Don’t even joke about that around her,” he groaned, walking from the bathroom.

Callie paused. “Maybe you should give her a call then, cuz I got her hopes up today,”

Nick spun to face her in alarm. “You said-”

“Ah I’m just fucking with you, let’s eat.” Callie smiled sheepishly, squeezing between him and the doorframe, a loud shriek coming forth when he chuffed behind her ear.

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HELLOOOOO AGAIN MY FRIENDS here i come with a wee lil chapter cuz listen shit will hit the fan soon, emotions stir. there's sadness AND happiness so please be patient with me and thank you to returning readers who've stuck around and anyone new! <3 hope to update again sooner than a month hehehe

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ephemeral-afterlight · 5 years

Text

Day 8: Stab Wound

(But hold on a little while longer.)

Whumptober 2019 Day 8: Stab Wound

Word Count: 2054

Relationships: familial Creativitwins, platonic/familial dlamptr

Warnings: Stab wound (obviously), other minor injuries, blood, minor dissociation, lots and lots of cursing

A/N: yes, i know this is late! it’s only by 30 minutes though D: hopefully my characterization of the trash man is alright! this was fun to write hehe

Well. That wasn’t a very fun camping trip!

Remus has always been one for surprise. He likes the excitement, the variety, the fun! It’s healthy to keep a little bit of spice in your life. He’s not afraid to live by this sort of motto, because life is about the little things. Although, he isn’t sure that getting stabbed in the middle of the woods at three a.m. necessarily counts as little, but he’ll take what he can get.

So sue him! Maybe he likes to have a little fun sometimes. Routine is boring! Fuck patterns! Fuck authority! Cause anarchy!

And, uh, yeah. He’s pretty chill with living on the edge like that. But maybe… maybe just a bit further from the edge? He means, like, the edge of harmful societal expectations and complacency, or whatever dumb shit Dee and Lo-Lo rant about to each other at one in the morning. Remus loves his roommates, and would totally rip out a bitch’s spine for them, but they’re fucking nerds. Speak ENGLISH.

Yeah, the edge of “normal”. Not the edge of death.

He’s not gonna die out here, no siree. If he believes he’s immortal strongly enough, he will be. That’s what Barbie movies teach you, right? In any case, even though he refuses to die, getting stabbed hurts like a motherfucker, and it doesn’t help that it’s also storming. He just wanted a nice, fun camping trip, but nooo, some shitty-ass god out there decided “Oh! Time to turn Remus into a shitty cliche horror movie protagonist!”. Why can’t he be the antagonist? Or… wait, what’s the one in the middle of the two? The side character? He wants to be the one guy who is in the midst of all the action with the protag, but seemingly dies halfway through the movie, and then comes back at the end to be like, ”Haha, surprise, bitch! I’m not dead!”.

Huh. Maybe he shouldn’t make all of his life choices based on movie stereotypes.

Anyway, he wishes that at the very least it’d stop fucking raining, because it makes it seriously hard to crawl through the underbrush while slipping in mud and falling flat on his face every two seconds. The stab wound is painful, sure, but as long as he can keep pressure on it and not lose too much blood before he gets to the main road, he should be fine. But having to deal with the downpour hindering his movement and blinding most of his senses sucks ass. How the hell is he supposed to utilize his tracking skills and make sure he’s going the right way without being able to see, hear, or smell a single goddamn thing? He might like making other people wet, but that doesn’t mean he likes being wet himself.

So, he thinks he’s going the right direction. Trying to escape a batshit crazy murderer in the middle of the woods doesn’t leave you a lot of time to casually sit down at a table with a cup of tea and pull out your faded, burnt treasure map, but if he had a table and a cup of tea and a partially burnt map, he would totally do that. Maybe the killer would be so confused, he’d have time to run away.

The thought causes Remus to bark out a laugh into the white noise of the storm, which is a VBI (Very Bad Idea), because it goes straight to his stomach. The pain that radiates out from the wound is like, actually excruciating, hahaha! But... Remus is supposed to be the one who actually survives to the end. He-- he has to be. Who else is gonna fill Roman’s socks with wet concrete?

Oh, Roman. His brother would probably be crying like a little bitch if he were here. Now he’d be the protagonist, the one who’d make so many stupid decisions and somehow come out of it alive anyway. He’s like those teenage girls in horror movies who make you scream at the screen “Don’t go in the dark scary basement, you fucking idiot!” but for some reason, never have a single repercussion for any of their terrible choices. (Remus would be the one who would sacrifice himself for the main character near the end of the movie at the dramatic climax, but Roman can never know that.)

Maybe he wishes Roman was here so that he didn’t have to crawl all this way on his own, but whatever. His brother would probably be too busy whining about his ruined hair to help much, anyway. Not-- Not that Remus needs help! He is having a blast slipping and sliding through the sticks and mud and bushes, thank you very much!

“C’mon out, dude! Don’t draw out the inevitable!” a voice echoes from the trees, a yell that’s far too familiar for Remus’ liking. God, can this guy just give it up already? Go find some other helpless damsel to terrorize! He does not wanna try Remus right now. This may all be fun and games, but Remus is starting to get pissed off, and he is unafraid to take out the stress on this crazy dumbfuck.

Somehow, Remus is able to hear the guy’s footsteps come closer through the sound of the rain splashing all around him, and he speeds up. Probably better to just avoid the guy. Although Remus’d totally win in a fight, the dude does have a knife, and Remus would really prefer to not get stabbed a second time. There’s a drop ahead, a place where it looks like the floor disappears, so Remus shuffles over to it and peers over. It’s a small cliff, with maybe fifteen or so feet to the bottom, and Remus curses under his breath. Fuck, he’s gonna have to do it, isn’t he? And now that he’s looking, he can just barely make out some headlights flit through the trees and disappear, so he knows that he’s close to the main road.

With a grimace, Remus steels himself, then slides off the edge feet-first, trying to use his shoes as a brace against the incline. Of course, because his life fucking sucks, he somehow manages to hit a rock embedded in the side in the wrong crevice, and it pitches him forward off the wall to tumble to the ground below. He smacks into the wet dirt, is just barely able to bite his tongue hard enough to stop the scream from ripping from his throat, and he lands at the bottom harshly.

His stomach is on fire. It fucking hurts, feels like he’s being stabbed all over again a thousand times over. Bruises are definitely going to start forming all over his body from that fall, and coupled with the fact that his leg hit the ground at a weird angle, walking is going to be even worse than before. Fuck! Why can’t he just catch a fucking break?!

Remus pants hard, trying to work himself up to resuming his trek, when he hears his attacker’s voice calling out from above again. It sounds like he’s coming to the edge, so Remus just swallows hard and scoots himself over through the agonizing aches in his body to lay flat against the cliff wall. He just has to hope the dude doesn’t see him. He can’t really see very well through the storm, but Remus thinks he sees the guy look over the edge. Silence is key, and that’s pretty damn hard considering the absolute torture that is his wounds, but he has to. To survive.

He can’t die today.

And then the guy’s yelling for him again, and his voice is getting further away, and Remus waits in the mud until he can’t hear his footsteps anymore. Vigour and adrenaline now fully renewed, Remus bolts into the trees again, crawl morphing into a crouched run when he’s finally in cover. He clutches at his stomach to try to lessen the pain, which of course doesn’t help, but maybe it’ll keep some blood inside of him or something. Probably not best to bleed out right before he can get help. That’d be a shitty movie ending, if he’s being honest. Absolutely uncreative and unsatisfying. -11/10. 0% on Rotten Tomatoes. Is Remus delirious right now?

Despite all that, the sight of the road through a break in the trees is like a blissful breath of fresh air, a shining light of hope in the darkness. He’ll get to see Roman again, and prank Patton with bugs, and absolutely destroy Virge at video games, and listen to Dee and Lo-Lo’s stupid philosophy talks, and give his adoptive uncle Thomas a heart attack every time he does something stupid, and holy fuck maybe Remus is dying because when did he become sentimental? Ew.

A car finally comes along right as Remus manages to drag himself up onto the shoulder, and he waves frantically from where he’s kneeled on the ground in an effort to flag it down. Thank fuck, the car actually slows to a stop, and the window rolls down almost immediately. The face that pokes out is cute, and innocent-looking, and Remus prays to a god he doesn’t believe in that this person will actually help.

“Oh, jeez, are you okay? Why are you out on the road like this? Is-- Is that blood?!” the driver asks, horrified, and Remus tries to stumble closer. He doesn’t know what he looks like right now, but it’s probably horrifying, and he wouldn’t really blame this stranger if he drove away immediately. Maybe Remus will become like those ghost stories, the spooky legends about ghost hitchhikers. Ooh, maybe he’ll become a local cryptid! They can tell stories about him, and sell merch with his face on it, and he’ll be famous, and he can rub all of his sweet, sweet royalties in Roman’s face.

“Got-- I got stabbed. Crazy fucker got me while I was asleep. Help,” Remus manages to force out through his grit teeth, voice hoarse under the weight of the pain he’s in, and the driver looks extremely worried. For whose well-being, Remus has no clue.

“Alright, I’m taking you to the hospital. I couldn’t live with a guilty conscience if I left you out here. I’m Emile, by the way-- please don’t murder me, okay?” the stranger, Emile, says, and Remus chokes out a laugh despite himself. Emile gets out of his car and rushes through the drizzle without any hesitation, and Remus can already see that this is a genuinely good person. Anyone else would leave him here to die. He knows that. Even he’d leave himself here. But here this guy is, the kindest anyone has ever been to Remus, and it makes him wonder if he’ll still be as nice when he realizes that Remus’ personality is awful and the polar opposite of good and kind. (He knows he’ll never be good enough. He knows. He’s heard it enough, and he doesn’t need to be told again.)

“Not g’nna murder you. I can’t-- can’t even walk on my own, so,” Remus mumbles once he’s sure Emile is close enough to hear, and the latter just clicks his tongue with hands that frantically wave all around as if they don’t know where to go. Luckily enough for Remus, Emile pulls himself together quickly, slings an arm underneath his shoulder to help support his weight, and they limp back to the guy’s car together. As they do, Remus realizes the rain has stopped outright, and, well, isn’t that poetic?

Once he’s inside, dripping all over this stranger’s seats (okay, maybe he feels a little bad about that. When he’s a famous cryptid, he can pay for Emile to get his upholstery fixed), Remus starts to fade in and out. Not like the dying kind of “fading”, because he knows from multiple personal experiences what dying feels like, but more like he’s losing time as an effect of a literal stab wound. Oh, what did Lo-Lo call it? Desecrating? Dissipating? No, dissociating. Yeah, that’s the bitch. Yeah. Yeah...

He gets flashes now and again. Streetlamps outside, a tall building, hands underneath him, bright lights, rapid conversation. It smells like an E.R. It feels like home. He’s not gonna die today. Not yet.

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yoongi-sugaglider · 5 years

Text

Daegu Quarantine

Jungkook x reader

Gang/ zombie apocalypse au

Warnings:

Gore, violence, zombies, mention of drugs and drug dealing, weapons discharge in self defense, possible future main character death, zombies, course language, zombies, drinking, did I mention zombies?

Summary:

They were the top of their game, known throughout the city as the smartest and most dangerous crew to ever hit the Daegu streets. But what’s going to happen when this group of young men encounter something right out of a horror film?

Word count: 3810

Part 1 === Part 2 === Part 3

“Sounds like it’s going well enough for them.” Namjoon muttered as he trailed behind me down the steep flight of stairs.

The basement was massive, spanning the entire length and width of the house and trailing a bit beyond the foundation and segmented off into several small rooms.

Just to the left of the stairs was what I’d designated our just in case pantry. A room filled from ceiling to floor with shelves piled high with canned goods and the MREs I’d told Jimin to take stock of earlier. I barely glanced inside, mentally taking note that most of the shelves were properly full as I’d intended them to be.

Beyond the pantry lay a large open area filled with couches and bean bag chairs of varying varieties. Against the far wall were several televisions, doubling as both gaming and movie watching areas as well as where the various security cameras that surrounded our home could be monitored.

Namjoon branched off from me at that point, going over to speak with Tae who’d currently been watching the security feed in order to ask him where he’d left the plasma torch as he’d been the last person to use it.

I moved on, making my way past another room that doubled as Jungkook’s private gym and another who’s door was closed that I dismissed immediately off hand.

The last room in the basement was our makeshift clinic.

Large metal cabinets lined the walls of the room, filled with what I knew to be all kinds of medical equipment and medications that we’d gathered from one source or another for emergency purposes. In the center of the room sat a large metal table, one that a person may have expected to find in a surgical theater but that currently held a very faint Hoseok.

He clutched desperately to Jungkook’s hand as Jimin worked quickly to sew up the wound that spanned a 3 inch portion of the dancer/ bodyguard’s lower shin.

“Give it to me straight Doc, am I ever gonna dance again?” Hobi tried to joke, despite the wince of pain that crept into his normally smiling face every time Jimin’s needle and thread passed through his skin.

“Sorry bud. Looks like we may have to amputate it.” I announced myself between passes of the needle, knowing ( and yes true to form he did) that Hoseok would jump and cry out as soon as the words left my mouth.

His face turned white as a sheet as he stared at me before his nervous eyes darted back to Jimin.

“Nooo...say it ain’t so Doc. Tell me she’s lyin.”

Jimin chuckled, snipping off the last bit of thread with his scissors before reaching over to the counter and grabbing a bit of ointment and bandages that he’d obviously prepared beforehand.

“No way hyung. You’re gonna be just fine. 6 stitches is plenty to keep this bad boy together. A few days and you’ll be up and about walking and dancing in no time.” Jimin patted his elder’s uninjured calf, giving him a sly grin as Hoseok swung his legs off the table.

“Don’t you know though? Ladies love a good scar. Love it even more when there’s a hot, life saving event to go along with it.” I chirped cheerfully.

“Yeah,well,” Hoseok began to roll down his pant leg, eyes staring up at me through the fringe of his bangs. “The way things are looking you’re gonna be the only lady around here for a while and with Jungkook in charge I doubt I’m gonna be getting anything anytime soon.”

The comment earned Hoseok a swift and sharp smack to the back of his head, though he grinned at me despite the pain.

“Keep mackin on my girl and that leg ain’t the only thing you’re gonna be worried about boy.” Jungkook’s growl was fierce as he stalked around the table and swooped me into his arms.

The show of aggression was just that, a show. Something to lighten the tense mood that seemed determined to creep into the moderately warm basement.

I smiled as his hands circled my waist, delicate fingers digging lightly into tender flesh as he pressed his hard body into mine. His eyes held a fire as they stared into mine, but also...something I hadn’t seen in a long time. Something I could have sworn was fear.

“Babe?” My voice came out hushed, a whisper that seemed to echo in the quiet room as he grazed a tender kiss across my partially chapped lips.

“It’s crazy out there. I honestly don’t know how we made it home safe.” He pressed his forehead into mine, eyes closed as he seemed to want to block out the whole world and focus in on the one thing that could always ground him. The feel of me beneath his fingertips.

“I know baby. But we’re safe. Our family’s with us and we’re safe.” I whispered, fingers tangling with feather soft hair as my nose brushed lightly against his.

He inhaled, fingers for a brief moment painful as they dug into the delicate skin of my hips through my black jeans. And then he pulled away, vulnerable boy gone to quickly be replaced with the authoritative man that the 7 men around us trusted to lead them and guide them.

“Alright assholes. Get this shit cleaned up. Pow wow upstairs in 20.”

Jimin and Taehyung snapped up instantly at his harsh tone, saluting him quickly and getting to work cleaning the blood off of Hobi and the table. I shot the three a small smile as Jungkook lead me away,one that each of them returned in kind just before we rounded the corner and disappeared from their sight and up the stairs.

Yoongi and Jin had been busy as well, cleaning the trail of blood from the garage to the stairs with an efficiency which only the two of them could have managed in the short time I’d been gone.

“Building’s secure.” Yoongi announced, eyes never leaving the floor as he mopped up the last of the lingering blood and doused the stained mop in the pink tinged water of the mop bucket.

“Anything new from the news?” I asked as Jin and Jungkook exchanged handshakes.

“T.V went out about 15 minutes ago. Nothing from any of the local or national news and the rest is just fuzz. Looks like it’s actually going to shit out there.” Jin’s voice was grim, something I wasn’t used to hearing from the normally jovial man.

My heart clenched, a moment of panic overtaking me as my grip tightened around Jungkook’s hand. He squeezed back in reassurance, motioning for the two to follow us as he lead the way into the living room.

True to Jin’s word the tv showed static, the black and white snow-like images flickering in the quiet room.

“Anything on the radios?” Jungkook motioned to the police scanners to which Yoongi shook his head.

“I checked a bit ago and the last thing that came in was that the Americans were pulling back to their base, probably got orders to high tail it back home.”

“Who can blame them though. We did the same.” I winced at the taste of blood in my mouth, realizing quickly that the anxiety I’d been trying to push down had caused me to worry my lower lip to the point of bleeding.

“Well shit…” I muttered as I made my way to the coffee table and dropped down onto the sofa with a huff.

Snagging a tissue from the box on the table I dabbed at my lip, shaking my head when I pulled the tissue away to reveal a bright red blemish on the normally pristine white cotton.

“I doubt the Americans would abandon us like that. They wouldn’t leave one of their allies like that just to die in the thousands from some dumb psychos.” Jin came to their defense, trying I’m sure to rationalize the situation.

“No, not unless they’re going through the same shit and need their men back home more than here.” Yoongi spat out bitterly as he plopped onto the other end of the sofa beside me.

I huffed, feeling the need for information pulling at me. I reached into my pocket, pulling out my phone while checking the gun at my hip for reassurance.

“It’s 2019, surely the internet’s got something. Some kind of information to let us know what’s going on with the rest of the world.” I squinted down at my phone, typing in my password to unlock it as I stared at the signal symbol in the top corner of the screen.

“The fuck...I’ve got no sig…” My words were interrupted as the power around us flickered. For the briefest of moments we were plunged into darkness before our fleet of backup generators kicked over and the power came back on.

“Holy fuck the world’s fucking ending.” Yoongi grinned, staring at the ceiling as if he’d lost his mind.

“Dude, not cool. I’m sure there’s an explanation for that.” Jin argued as he walked over to the window that faced the street outside and flipped open a few blinds with his fingers.

“Yeah, sure there’s an explanation. There are psychotic people wandering the street, infected with some super rabies that’s got them eating other people and the world’s about to end.” Yoongi let out a light giggle, leaning back into the sofa and closing his eyes in an almost manic glee. “This is too fucking much. I feel like I’m in some lame ass tumblr fanfic or something.”

I frowned, head tilted slightly as I watched him giggling quietly to himself. “The fuck are you talking about Yoongi?”

The man shook his head however and sat up, eyes now open and pinning Jungkook with his cool and calm stare. “Alright fearless leader.” He said as the others began to trail in minus Namjoon.

Jungkook frowned in his direction, effectively silencing his elder friend as Taehyung helped Hoseok gingerly sit on the sofa on the other side of me. Jimin sat at the corner table, eyes darting around anxiously as he fiddled with the cellphone he’d turned off earlier in the evening.

“Joon?” He asked, the question directed at me.

“Working on a barricade for the garage.” I answered as I handed Hoseok a pillow so that he could prop his injured leg on the coffee table.

“Good. Jimin you said you’d taken stock of our supplies?” Jungkook turned when Jimin yelped at his name being called.

“Ah yeah um…” He pulled the notepad from the large front pocket of his scrubs, flipping through the pages until he’d come to the list he’d made at my request.

“We have enough food to last the 8 of us as least six months down there. And three years worth of MRE’s per person.” He gulped as he flipped to the next page, squinting at his doctor’s chicken scratch as if he was having trouble reading his own handwriting. “Medical supplies are good to go so long as we don’t end up having to do anything like major surgery. But that’s just what we have downstairs. I’m sure the rest of the house is plenty stocked with supplies.”

Jungkook nodded,seeming to have taken mental note of everything that Jimin’d said. He turned to Yoongi who’d finally seemed to sober up to the situation.

“Weapons and ammo?” Jungkook asked, his voice firm as he checked the gun in his hip holster as a reflex.

“Everything’s good on that end. We’ve got plenty of the larger rounds. Small ammo’s been scarce around here lately but we’ve got a couple hundred 22’s. The extended clips for the semi’s y/n ordered last month finally came in, those are in the vault downstairs.” Yoongi tugged on his ear lobe, seeming to lose himself in thought for a moment.

“There’s also the C4 and those hand grenades you ordered but didn’t tell us about.”

I shot Jungkook a look, brow furrowed in anger as my suspicions raised. “The hell you need fucking C4 for?” I demanded, my voice almost shrill in the silent room.

“Doesn’t matter now. Pretty sure the Fire Fangs were caught up in that hospital bullshit. Apparently their leader was one of the first one bit. Had them all up there worried and shit when the shit hit the fan.” Jungkook scoffed at their idiocy, turning to the living room door to acknowledge Namjoon who’d just entered the room.

“Barrier’s up and the door’s secure Sir.” He brushed some of the hair out of his face, revealing a small burn mark on the back of his hand.

“Jesus hyung, the hell did you do?” Jimin jumped up from his chair, grabbing the elder man’s hand and twisting it to examine the injury.

“Ah, burnt myself on the torch. No big deal it’s not important.” He tried to wave his younger friend off but to no avail.

“The hell it isn’t. With what’s going on out there I’m not risking any of you walking around with uncovered wounds.” Jimin waved to Hoseok’s now well bandaged leg before shaking the hand he still gripped.

“Go sit down I’ll be right back with some disinfectant and gauze.”

Namjoon did as he was told, walking over sheepishly to sit in the chair Jimin had just been in. The boys were used to this. Jimin turning from shy young boy into authoritative doctor at the mere mention of an injury. His ability to stay calm in an emergency was what made him the best in his industry, and also why we kept him around.

Taehyung, who’d been quiet all this time finally spoke up, having been huddled in a corner with his eyes glued to his phone for most of the conversation.

“So boss, you gonna tell them what we’re up against? They’re gonna need to know at some point or another. They need to know what to be ready for.”

Throughout his short speech his eyes never left the multiple camera views flashing across the screen of his phone. He’d been a security agent before. Eyes trained to spot any threat no matter the video quality on his feeds and reflexes honed to perfection just like the other men to respond quickly and accordingly.

Jungkook ran his hands through his hair, fingertips combing his bangs over his eyes for a moment before brushing the strands back off his forehead. The unruly strands just fell back into place though, casting a haunting shadow over his eyes that sent a chill racing down my spine.

“Fuckin hell man…” He leaned up against the wall, using the edge of the wall mounted plasma screen to scratch at an itch on his shoulder as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“We were heading back from the botanical gardens. Hooked up with Tae at the public library when we heard screaming.”

“Screaming?” I asked and Jungkook shot me a gruff growl for interrupting.

“Yeah screaming. Sounded like it was coming from the middle school behind the library.”

“Apparently people starting to get evacuated from all the major buildings. Government telling the civilians to get home and stay safe.” Hoseok grunted as he shifted his injured leg to get more comfortable.

“The fucking looting had already started, and really can you blame folks? Chaos means free money, we shoulda took the chance when we had it and ran.” Jungkook scoffed at the idea, glaring down at Hoseok who managed to look sheepish under his leader’s glower.

“Look man, a little kid got pushed down. The crowd around us was going wild coming from the school and the little girl was cryin for her momma.” Hoseok shrugged, picking at the lint on his shirt sleeve.

“Hoseok, ever the hero picked the kid up and was runnin with her when the kid started freaking out. Yellin that she saw her moms and tryin to get Hobi to put her down.” Jungkook’s face all this time had begun to turn pale. Even in the bright lights of the living room it seemed like all the blood was draining away from his face.

“Hoseok couldn’t hold her anymore. Dropped the kid when he tripped over a curb. Girl went running right into her momma’s arms. Who promptly picked her up and bit her fucking face off.” Tae’s voice was cold from the corner and his statement caused everyone to freeze. I could hear Namjoon gagging from the corner and Jimin had chosen that exact moment to come back from his supply run. The bottle of rubbing alcohol dropped from his hand as he stared between us all.

“Are you serious? How the hell could a mom even do that?” His voice came out as barely a whisper as he bent to retrieve the fallen bottle.

“ ‘S cause she wasn’t that girl’s momma no more.” Tae answered. He looked up from his phone to bore his heated gaze into each one of us. “Bitch turned. Turned into whatever the fuck the government’s calling those fucking creatures.”

“That’s about when we noticed that literally all around us people were just...eating each other.” Hobi shivered as he wrapped his arms around himself and I reached over with a trembling hand to try and rub some comfort back into his chilled skin.

“We ran. Trying to get back to the car without getting bit or having to hurt anyone. But a car came blasting through the intersection, knocked Hobi off his feet and busting up his leg and smashing right into a group of people just trying to escape.” Jungkook ran his fingers through his hair again, a clear sign of his barely restrained fear and anxiety.

Hoseok glared down at his fists in his lap, clenching and unclenching his hands as if they had betrayed him. “If only I had kept hold of that kid. We could have saved her!”

The bodyguard had always prided himself as being able to protect anyone put into his care. His strength and agility gained from years as an underground street dancer had easily earned him a reputation that had gained him the attention of Jungkook and the respect of his fellow members.

To see him questioning himself now was both heartbreaking and terrifying.

“There was nothing you could do Hobi. Had you still had hold of that girl then both of you would have probably died stuck underneath the fucking car that hit you in the first place.” Jin, ever the voice of reason spoke up for the first time.

Hoseok looked over at his senior, eyes glazed over with tears and the memories that I’m sure would have haunted him for the rest of his life. The sound of a whimper tore his gaze away and the group of us turned to see Jimin finally treating Namjoon's burn.

“Ah hush, I've pulled bullets out of you worse than this little thing.” Jimin said through clenched teeth as he struggled to hold Namjoon's arm still.

“But it huuurrrtttsss.” Namjoon tried to pull his hand away once again, earning him a smack to the arm from a now irate Jimin.

“Quit acting like a child and let me treat this fucking thing.”

I shook my head at the two, attention turning back to Jungkook.

He seemed to have been watching the interaction between Namjoon and Jimin but as I watched his eyes glazed over and he swayed on his feet. I bolted up, racing over to his side and reaching him at the same time as Yoongi who I guess had been watching him as well.

“Woah, easy there bud.” Came Yoongi’s mutter as the two of us supported Jungkook’s wilted frame.

We led him over to the sofa, gingerly setting him down beside Hoseok who’d scooted over to make room for him.

“M fine guys step off.” But his half hearted arm waving didn’t deter either of us from putting his feet up on the coffee table and making him lean his head against the back ridge of the sofa.

“You’re obviously not fine babe. Or you wouldn’t have been on the verge of passing out on your feet like that just now.” My voice was firm as I patted his hand, my free hand reaching up to wipe the sweat from his brow and gently caress his cheek.

He closed his eyes, nuzzling into my touch with a quiet hum of comfort.

“Did he eat today?” I asked Hoseok who shook his head no.

“We were up early as hell and busy around lunch time, I know I ate breakfast but I don’t think he had anything.”

I cursed beneath my breath, shooting a glare in Jin’s direction. The elder man nodded at my glance,heading out of the room to begin working on dinner at my unspoken directive.

“How could you be so stupid Kookie?” I demanded quietly as I glared at his resting face.

“Didn’t think about it. Had work to do.” Came his muttered reply.

Shaking my head I stood, eyes darting around at the other figures who stood warily nearby.

This all felt so surreal, like I was watching my life be played out as a movie on the big screen. The attacks, the loss of power, and now the leader of our group basically out of commission because he’d let his blood sugar get too low.

Of course it was entirely possible he was suffering from shock, as that seemed to be the case for the other pale faces as well. It was rare for us to be gathered together like this and for the room to be so deathly quiet. Even Namjoon had quieted down from his whimpers of pain as Jimin wrapped his hand in a small bandage.

“What the hell are we going to do?” I asked to no one in particular as I stared listlessly at the snow filled TV screen.

“Nothing for now.” Came a quiet reply and my gaze snapped to the normally silent Taehyung.

“We wait, hope that the generators hold up until the cops and military can get a hold on things.” He shrugged as he looked up from his surveillance cameras.” Start turning off anything unnecessary to conserve power and make sure everything is properly locked and secure.”

“We’ve already done most of that…” I muttered as I planted my rear on the cool surface of the coffee table.

“Then just wait.” Tae returned his gaze to the security feed. His lips thinned into a hard pressed frown as he quickly tapped and expanded on one of the cameras.

“Tae? What is it?” I asked, voice laced with worry as I watched his eyes harden.

“There’s someone outside on the front lawn. And I don’t like the way they’re moving.”

#bts #bts jeongkook #bts jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook #bts jungguk #jungguk x reader #bts gang au #bts zombie au #bts apocalypse au #bts angst #bts fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts park jimin #bts kim taehyung #bts kim seokjin #bts kim namjoon #bts min yoongi #bts jung hoseok

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fliipclaw · 7 years

Text

session recap 4 - calling caligula

we did another d&d session yesterday and it was. a lot of fun. here’s a list of things that happened and things people said in a roughly chronological order. i’ve already done three of these, i’m sure you guys know the drill by now.

the session opens with reeliel and tarrik in the infirmary

“everything about that is just a paradox. the infirmary of the death arena”

[the game is interrupted by a phone call]

“tarrik, shut up, don’t make it worse!” “i’m already half dead, how much worse could it get?” “you could be fully dead”

this time we’re doing double battles

galle and grelynn are paired up against an ogre

“it’s been so long we’ve forgotten how to play d&d”

“so that’s 9 damage…. he hits you really hard”

“so you rolled a three” “[dejected] yeah” “you just fall over”

“we bonded! by… tripping over ourselves for a turn!”

“there are two more fights, and then hopefully, no more fights!”

galle trips a dude just for fun

“i just wanna be a dick sometimes, ‘kay?”

pluto is teamed up with ilah (an npc based on an oc)

“kill her” “noOO!”

“i already killed her once i can’t kill her again. bany might actually murder me” “i would”

“has his eye been healed?” “no, he’s still blind” “he’s not all of a sudden going to become not blind”

“you stabbed him like FOUR TIMES in the eye”

“it’s just a little bit scratched” “a LITTLE BIT?”

“he needs a bit of tlc, okay?” “he needs a new fucking eye!”

“thoth didn’t look very friendly at first, but look at him now. blind and my best friend”

“is the monster just watching this?” “yeah, it’s last in initiative order and talking is a free action”

[talking about the squirrel that my family has been feeding] bany: we have a possum that lives in the bushes outside

ilah and pluto are the worst duo in that they will maim creatures and then befriend them

“maybe pluto just makes everyone blind by default?” “maybe that’s why pluto’s so terrible as a rogue but manages to steal from everyone anyway”

bany sighs a lot during this scene it’s great

i admit to my shameless rigging of the game when my players are doing terribly

pluto: decides to befriend the monster / the party: do you want to use up your second friend slot??

“what is the creature doing right now?” “it’s probably bleeding” “but how’s it feeling?” “it’s feeling pretty bad”

ilah: befriends the creature / matt: we’re playing d&d with the fucking rspca

“this is the death arena, not the befriend the creatures that attack you arena” “it’s actually a petting zoo”

“what kind of monster are they fighting?” “it’s called an ettercap. it looks like…… i don’t even know how to describe it”

“that’s the plot of lord of the flies, pluto befriends an ettercap”

tarrik and reeliel, our resident failures, are paired up against a gargoyle

my rolls are always really terrible. it’s the d&d gods punishing me for not using physical dice.

reeliel runs up to tarrik, jumps up on and off his shoulders, and up into the air

she unfortunately misses her attack

reeliel casts thunderwave. tarrik is understandably pissed.

“hey matt, what’s your constitution like?” “not negative” “go ahead and roll then!”

there are a lot of pauses where i stop to do maths. i’m the epitome of that ‘when you’re gay and can’t calculate the tip’ video.

“you two actually did something competent for once!” “the two weakest members of the team!"

“as it turns out, everyone else was just holding us two back. that’s what it is” “are you sure?”

mikael poofs around this time. rip them.

the immediate response to being taken outside the arena is of course “making our way downtown"

bany: this sounds like a public execution / me: carries on explaining the scene

“notice how they ignored the question"

i discovered that i can’t talk and type at the same time

neriona: is there / tarrik: is flipping her off with both hands

“matt matt matt matt matt matthew. shut up”

there is an elf reclining on a chaise lounge eating grapes. tarrik drinks his wine.

“the bulla felix, come in, come in!” “oh fuck”

ilah and galle: sit down normally

tarrik: lies down and hogs an entire seat

reeliel: sits like L

cai: poofs / me: should we just carry on? / matt: i’m liking this shouting idea / bany: oh god

[the game is interrupted by a toddler]

“jax, don’t do that with your eye!”

“greetings, i am the emperor of this fine city, petpetor!” “what? your name is what?” “petpetor!” “petpetu?” “petpetor!”

[toddler noises] “cai, are you murdering a child?” “it sounds more like the child is murdering cai”

matt made a child cry in church one time just by looking at them

“go find auntie billie! take this!” “it’s not safe to go alone, take this!”

[the game is once again interrupted by a toddler]

“if that was me there would be children flying from the rooftop” “and that’s why it isn’t you”

are you stronger than a 2 year old? for cai, the answer is no!

“cai, are you made of noodles or something?” “yes”

god i’m just now listening to this character voice and it’s awful

petpetor asks them to investigate an assassination plot and find his would-be assassin

tarrik tries to wind him up and reeliel throws something at him from across the room

“i am prepared to stab this guy in the back just so you know”

“what’s in it for us?” “freedom from the death arena” “yeah okay we’ll do it”

“i want immunity for the rest of my squad" “if you stop robbing my friends, than yes” “can we rob your enemies?"

“he takes like the bowl of grapes off the table and shoves them in his mouth”

galle: idk who you people are but i’m good with not being trapped in a death arena

tarrik’s metric for liking people: the quality of their wine

the party has a private discussion and decides to investigate and then stab petpetor in the back

“regardless of whether or not neriona is actually the one behind this assassination, i say we frame her"

“do we have anyone who’s alignment is good on this team?"

“i think we will give tarrik free reign to rob the palace as long as we can also rob the palace”

“so far his suspect list is like half of the entire city”

everyone complimenting the write ups and i’m sorry this one is mostly quotes. not much action happened but we did have a lot of fun conversations.

“after the endgame, after we kill not caligula, what’s going to happen?” “don’t you worry about that”

“am i on reasonable terms with the party now?” “you’re getting there with me” “welllll…." “tarrik shut up, we don’t need anymore foes”

“i have 300 buried and 50 in a pair of dark pants on the edge of a road”

“bye!” “i’m glad we’re sorta friends now!” “well, kinda, not really"

#bee.txt #quadrant campaign #i love my d&d group a lot #also i've mentioned it before but i really love reeliel and tarrik's friendship #it'd be a shame if something were to... happen.......#and galle's on somewhat-decent terms w the party now !!#i think that relationship development next session will be a lot of fun

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diabolikpersonals · 7 years

Text

so heres, uh, a rough summary of the tsukinami cd. the mukami one is next! lol...take it with a grain of salt tbh. sorry it’s long as fuck

TRACK 1:

The CD starts off with Carla monologuing about Endzeit, the disease that killed so many founders. He got it while he was killing his dad, etc etc etc read his wiki page

Shin walks up to Carla and asks what they’re gonna do. Carla remarks that the times have changed, and Shin agrees. Karl Heinz is gone, and his power has been passed on to one of his sons. Carla asks why Karl Heinz chose to disappear, and says that if Karl Heinz wished, he could keep on living forever. Shin’s like, “So you think he wished to disappear?” and Carla says that it must be so. There must be a reason.

Suddenly changing the subject, Carla asks Shin where that woman is. Shin says she’s back in the human world, in the Sakamaki mansion. Carla’s like “Okay. Go get her.” Shin’s all :0 and Carla’s like “...what.” Shin says that Nii-san decides everything on his own without explanation, and he wonders if he’s planning something. Carla’s like “Of course.” and Shin says “I knew it! Then, I’m going to the human world for a bit!” And he heads off, feelin pretty damn good. But before he leaves Carla stops him and tells him to be careful because he senses something stirring. Shin’s like yeah whatever lol, and he’s off on his way.

So Shin’s in the human world now. You hear him whistle, followed by a bunch of wolves howling. (It’s cute.) Shin monologues - I could have heard this part wrong, but it sounded like he was saying that it was important to him that he lift some of the weight off of Nii-san. He says that to them, Yui is a very important girl. But recently, Nii-san stopped seeking out that girl. Shin had worried that he has given up on the future of the Founders. But, since Carla gave him an order to go get Yui, it seems like he was mistaken! Yay!

As Shin runs with the wolves, he exclaims how he’s getting excited!! He’s finally getting another chance, it’s like a dream! (so so cute) Shin monologues again - At that time he was thinking that he just wanted to run wild. He didn’t care about expectations or fate, or anything like that. He thought that going to go get Yui would be a piece of cake.

TRACK 2:

Shin’s running and panting and saying that Nii-san’s definitely gonna be mad. He explains that he made it to the human world and to the Sakamaki house, but the Sakamaki house was pretty much, um, a huge pile of rubble. (If you listened to the Sakamaki Lost Eden CD, you know that Ayato basically blasted the house down in a fit of rage, whoops) Shin is thinking that this must’ve been what Nii-san was so worried about. Shin and his familiars searched the place, and they found traces of vampires, but also some other kind of power.

Shin makes a bunch of adorable little sniffing sounds, and catches a scent that shocks him. It’s not a wolf, eagle (Adora? idk), or vibora. Could it be...a ghoul?? Shin says there’s no doubt about that strange smell. It’s a ghoul. But why was one appearing now? Why was a ghoul in the human world...?

So Shin finds Yui, puts her on his wolfy back, and runs on back to the demon world. He comments that she’s awake and tells here where she is. He proudly tells her that she was saved by the great Tsukinami Shin. He says it’s better for her not to talk - He’s sure that she has lots of stuff she wants to hear and say, but she better talk to Nii-san. “I’m speeding up, so hang on!!” and more little wolf paw sounds

Carla, who was just chillin by himself, was like “Shin’s back.” Shin lets himself in and Carla says he’s late, and Shin’s like, “I thought you’d say that, but I brought her!” Carla’s like “Before that, explain what made you take so long.” and Shin’s like “Okay, okay, I get it. But before that-” and he pours some water cuz the poor guy just spent all that time running lol. While pouring the water, he suddenly freezes up when he notices that he’s bleeding. Yui asks him if something’s wrong, and Shin’s like “Ah? N...No...It’s nothing. You should drink too.” and he pours her some water. He fuckin chugs it, and Carla (who thinks he’s just stalling) is like “Shin-” and Shin’s like yeah yeah, gimme a break, I’m exhausted. Carla tells him not to act spoiled :/ So Shin gets to explainin’.

Carla’s like “...ghouls, you say” and Shin’s like “Yep! Ghouls! I was surprised too” and Carla turns to Yui and tells her to explain herself. Shin wants to know too. Yui explains that she had met Karl Heinz’s illegitimate child, who had been laying low in the demon world. Carla says that he still can’t understand that man...that man meaning Karl Heinz.

Shin suddenly asks Carla how his condition is. Carla’s like “My condition?” and Shin fumbles with his words a bunch before being like “no, actually, never mind.” Carla calls him strange and walks away. Shin then apologizes to Yui and asks her wait there for a while. When she asks where he’s going, he’s like “Nothing, just some minor business. Stay there.” and he walks away too.

Once Shin is out of earshot, he RUNS to the bathroom, turns on the water, and desperately tries to wash the blood out. He’s talking to himself in a panicked voice: He didn’t expect to see all that blood when he was pouring the water. “This blood, as I thought.........No, that’s stupid...It’s probably nothing.”

TRACK 3:

Shin shows Yui to her room, says she can ask the familiars if she needs anything, and asks if there’s anything else she wants to ask. Shin tries to leave for his own room, but Yui grabs him. I guess Yui asks why she was taken there, because Shin’s like “How should I know? Nii-san told me to bring you here so I did.” Shin gets sorta touchy, Yui tells him to stop, Shin asks teasingly if she’ll let the ghouls do whatever they want but she doesn’t like a First Blood touching her. Calls her annoying, says he only needs her body, etc etc you know the drill. He’s like “I’m sure the taste of your blood is so bad” and he tosses her on the bed, and he gives her the succ. The whole time he’s sucking her blood he can’t stop complaining about how gross it is. It’s an awful taste. It’s the worst. No matter where you drink it from, it’s terrible. ...But he keeps drinking it, lol.

Eventually he stops and he’s like “whatever, I’m done, that gave me a terrible feeling and I’m tired” so he leaves her alone for now. He tells her she should do something about the taste of her blood before Nii-san drinks from her. (What do you expect her to do omg) Then he leaves. After closing the door, he thinks to himself that (I think) while the taste of her blood was horrible, he’s anxious that he’ll be separated from her quickly. Shin thinks that he’s got Endzeit.

Carla tosses and turns for a while, then mutters that he can’t sleep. His chest feels heavy. I can’t translate this part very well, and this might be FULL of mistakes, but...Carla’s dying. The Shinigami are coming to reap his soul, so he’s reflecting a bit. There’s nothing he especially regrets about his life. It’s just that...he regrets not being able to save the Founders. And he regrets all the missing all those opportunities that came his way. Just those two things. “I can’t...disappear...yet.” Luckily, in that place (the demon world I assume) his health has been a bit better. So Carla thinks he should just stay there, and not move around too much. The Endzeit never left his body. But he’s thankful for the time he’s had, even if it was short. (Carla nooo...rip)

Shin knocks on the door, and asks if Carla’s still awake. He lets himself in. He says he has something to ask Nii-san. “...Don’t make such a sullen face. I’ll leave as soon as I ask. It’s about Endzeit...” He asks about how Carla got the disease. Carla matter-of-factly responds, “When I killed our father.” and Shin’s like D:

So he keeps asking his questions, a little nervously: Endzeit is a disease that spreads through the blood, right? Carla kinda grumbles at him, and Shin hastily makes the excuse that since that girl might have Founder blood, there’s a possibility she’s infected. Carla’s like “Are you thinking that I infected her with the disease?” and Shin’s like “Of course I wasn’t thinking that!!” But he was thinking that it would be bad if someone else were to get infected...”I’m sorry. I’ll leave now. Goodnight.” and Shin’s out.

Carla had been working hard to hide his sickness, so he wonders why Shin suddenly realized it now...

TRACK 4:

So Carla talks to Yui. He says that Shin is acting strange, and he wants to know if she knows anything about it. Yui heard Shin suddenly talking about Endzeit, and she’s worried. Carla talks a little bit about their past: “We had our mother, but I killed his beloved father with my own hands.” (ok carla when u put it that way it makes u seem like. a huge jerk) And (I’m a little unsure of this part to) Carla thinks that right now Shin is just waiting for his opportunity to kill Carla too. Carla tells Yui RIGHT in her ear (and I mean DIRECTLY into my right headphone holy shit) to close her lips, then says he’s gonna punish her with lots of pain. He bites her and sucks her blood, and he’s not exactly satisfied with the taste either lol. Then mid-sentence he starts coughing uncontrollably, tells Yui not to touch him, and tries to regulate his breathing.

When he recovers, he looks to Yui and goes “...You understand, don’t you.” He won’t be here for much longer. Carla says that rather than dying to an illness, he would have much rather die by his little brother beheading him. (Aw! That’s kind of sweet in a really morbid way!) He says to Yui that there’s nothing she can do about it - it’s reality. He then tells her very sternly not to mention it to Shin. He absolutely does not want Shin to know about this. If Yui breaks that promise, Carla will kill her. Then he leaves her there.

TRACK 5:

Shin can’t sleep either. He’s sure now that he’s got Endzeit. While he’s lying there are stressing about how he’s scared to die, he hears the flapping of an eagle’s wings - it’s the Adora clan, or however you spell that. They’re eagles, idk. He goes to report it to Shin. Somehow a bunch of demons figured out that Yui was here, and they all wanna get their hands/paws/wings on her. He hands Carla a letter from the head of the eagle clan, and Carla’s like “fuck it” and he burns the letter immediately. Shin’s like “uhh? is this gonna be okay?” and Carla basically says “dude whatever, we’re founders” and Shin’s like “yeah...the last two.”

Shin does the “tch” thing and Carla asks him what’s wrong. Shin demands to know why Nii-san told him to bring the girl here in the first place. When Carla doesn’t answer, Shin goes “To save the Founders?” and Carla says yes. Shin says that they should’ve done it sooner then. Carla asks him what he wants to say, and Shin says he’s been thinking a lot. Carla’s like “Don’t tell me...You want me to use that girl as a hostage” and Shin’s like “If you don’t then what use does she have?”

Carla confirms that she does have a use. I didn’t follow this too well, but Carla believes that Karl Heinz planned all of this out - including Karl Heinz’s own death - in order to create chaos. Karl Heinz always put Yui at the center of his plans, so Carla believes that Yui is the key to understanding Karl Heinz’s motives. Everything is planned out.

Shin: So, that’s why Nii-san told me to bring that girl here?! Carla: You seem dissatisfied. Shin: Of course I am! I thought surely, we were going back to the demon world... Carla: I never said anything about going back. Shin: But...We’ve just been folding our hands and waiting!

Shin’s getting heated. He shouts that he doesn’t care about Karl Heinz’s motives anymore, while taking his anger out on some poor wall nearby. Shin thinks it would be better to take that girl and go, purify her again, make her their ally. Carla cuts him off: “Are you going against the king?” Shin suddenly goes quiet. “If so, then so be it.” Shin: “Nii-san, are you trying to pick a fight?” Carla is DEFINITELY trying to pick a fight.

But wait!! Yui suddenly comes rushing in to stop them. Carla and Shin tell her to stay out of it or she’ll get hurt. She rushes between them to make sure they don’t hurt each other. Shin is like “Whatever, I’ll blast through both of you!!” but...he couldn’t do it. He angrily gives up, says it’s stupid, kicks something else, then says he’s leaving. Carla’s like “where are you going” and Shin’s like “I’m gonna handle things myself

He says with a short laugh that maybe first he’ll go get his eye back from the Vibora. Shin tells Carla that he sure is carefree for a guy with a disease, and that he could never do that. Carla says he understands, and agrees to take Shin back home on one condition (and Shin is so surprised). But he won’t take Yui as a hostage. At first Shin doesn’t believe that they can win in that case, but Carla affirms that they can. He says they will fight understanding that they might lose. He asks Shin if he has that kind of resolve. Shin says that yes, he does.

And so they go!! Carla tells Yui that she’ll be house-sitting while they’re gone, lol. And as he walks away, he says that he’ll definitely return home...sob. Shin thinks to himself that Carla planned from the very beginning to do it this way. He thinks that his brother picked a fight with him on purpose, and he doesn’t understand it. But he doesn’t care anymore, and he’s off to join his brother. He tells Yui that she better stay there quietly or he and his brother will be SUPER pissed when they come back. “Be a good girl and wait.” (if it were me then I would totally go through his stuff while he’s gone)

Carla and Shin are preparing for...the final fight!! (whatever that means) and Shin is READY TO FUCKING GO he’s so excited. He wolfwhistles to call the doggos over again and they head on their way.

Carla and Shin both monologue about how they’re both...fucking dying. But both of them are just excited to get out there and have that last moment of glory. Shin comments out loud that this reminds him of “that night.” Carla agrees and THIS GODFORSAKEN CD IS OVER please pray for them

#text #translations #lost eden spoilers #JESUS CHRIST...THIS TOOK ALL DAY #long post

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