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andraaste · 3 years

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I am not your enemy - Lance fanfiction part 16

The Chapter is finally out my Guardians 🐉

Chapter 16 : In the deepest memories of the last of the dragons

My hands would follow their path taken for several minutes, forming various abstract forms of their weak caresses. Many chills arose from time to time with my fingers when I explored new areas but no protest was ever heard, which prompted me to venture out again and again, savoring this almost suspended moment in time.

Blinking hard with white lids in the dim daylight streaming through the curtains, my gaze fell for a moment on the long locks that partially obscured Lance's sleeping face. With his head resting on my bare chest, he didn't seem to want to wake up from his deep sleep, an arm slung over my request now firmly pressed against him.

I directed my caresses a little higher until I reached a scaly area on his shoulder. Fascinated, I drew each outline as if to come to memorize them, surprised to feel them vibrate with each passage of my fingers.

It had been some time since I realized one thing. One thing who, each time he let me see it, filled my heart a little more with new feelings.

More and more often in my presence, Lance seemed to forget his barriers. So sometimes the young man let an infinite number of improbably colored scales run over his skin while, at other times, his ice ran through my body without any logic, drawing complex and involuntary shapes. I’m always surprised at the sweetness of these manifestations, yet they are born of a raw, primitive nature. Because despite his human appearance, Lance was nonetheless a dragon whose instincts he had and, beyond the brutality that accompanied some, I loved to see him let go. I had the impression that in those rare moments when the barrier between his two forms was weakening, he could finally relax, really be himself.

But to share with him this moment of physical intimacy In purely instinctive outbursts, he loved to mark me with his presence, ranging from his powers to his scent and at times, to his claws. Lance had been unintentionally brutal at times, but was it strange if I admitted that I absolutely loved every moment ?

The dragon pulled me out of my reveries, stirring lightly. Lifting his face with still sleeping features, he arched an eyebrow as he analyzed the situation, his gaze drifting over our still naked bodies. My breath quickened as one of his hands lingered on the slope of my hip as his eyes were already dark with desire. Without warning, he tightened his embrace and rocked over me. His long hair tickled my face as he leaned down to explore every inch of my neck, making me moan in spite of myself with languor.

- Hello, my angel, he said in a hoarse voice against my skin.

I wrapped my arms around his broad shoulders as a weary smile stretched my lips.

- Hello, my great dragon.

Lance laughed in the crook of my collarbone as he let his icy hands rest on my thighs, causing goose bumps to grow in the grooves of his palms. His lips entered the slope of my jaw, and when they finally met mine, it was with some authority that he lifted my legs on either side of his narrow hips.

We kissed for a long time, our tongues meeting without delay to deepen our embrace. Between my legs, I felt him pulsing more and more vigorously, increasing with maddening speed the desire that had not left me.

- You do well not to forget in whose arms you find, he amused himself in a voice with a much deeper sound than usual.

I dug my nails vigorously into his muscular back as his hips pushed against my lower abdomen.

- How could I, exactly ? I questioned him with difficulty, so much the least of his gestures obsessed me. You don't really help me forget it...

- It's true that I can't keep my human form completely, with you.

- I don't mind, you know, I said with a laugh.

A gentle smile lit up his face, which features often so harsh. In a light mood, the dragon lifted my chin with his fingers to orient my face in his direction. I plunged without hesitation into his eyes which had occupied all my thoughts for several weeks.

Becoming serious again, we didn’t say the least for several long seconds, we observe with a heavy look of meaning.

- Andraste...

I knew what was going on in his head.

We.

Our relationship, our past, our present... To be in each other's arms was absurd, totally unconventional and we were both deeply aware of it. What would become of each other once we got out of this room ?

Nothing. There was absolutely nothing we could become for each other. And we knew it.

Deciding to stop our respective paths of thought, I crossed the short distance between us, feverishly pressing my lips against his. I kissed him with anger, despair, envy. I placed my fears in those powerful hands that encircled my hips, those greedy lips that devoured mine as if to come and seek some breath. I needed to feel him losing control, needed to drown in his eyes that screamed at me that they loved me.

Or at least, during these short, resolutely forbidden moments.

- Please, don't say anything, I said between two kisses, starting to move my pelvis against his. We'll have plenty of time to worry about this later.

Seeming to consider my words at first, Lance suddenly planted one of his hands on my hip as I shifted more and more vigorously under his weight that crushed me. Not giving me time to think, he shamelessly slipped two fingers inside me without ever taking my eyes off suddenly feverish. Reaching my guard, he stirred slowly but confidently, torturing me with his thumb a little higher. My God, I had never wanted someone so much, I was sure.

Each of his movements made a myriad of sensations explode in the pit of my stomach, making me turn my head with his precise gestures. My pelvis quickly accompanies his fingers, guiding them silently while each of my moans is found drawn to his lips. When a multitude of stars erupted in my field of vision, I firmly grabbed his throat as he led me over the edge of the precipice without warning.

As I lost ground, I noticed with a blank eye that my light was diffused into him. Starting from the base of his neck just under my palm, it illuminated him tanned skin with its bright, warm colors. In this story, it wasn't Lance who lost control the most.

I think it was me.

Not that I ever really had control over my powers, that would have been lying. But I no longer control anything. My emotions, my fears, my desires; I was constantly jostled, tossed about between everything.

When the dragon in turn realized that I was marking him without permission with my light, he groaned in satisfaction before promptly removing his fingers from my privacy. I didn't have time to figure out what was happening to me as I already found myself astride him, Lance having grabbed me to reverse our places, his hands feverishly running my back as his tongue attacked my chest. Tilting my head back, I let his hungry mouth move up to my ear, biting my skin with his suddenly sharper teeth until it slightly marked me.

With one hand, I pushed him away in order to come and press his back authoritatively against the mattress. His gaze darkens again as I lean over him, starting a slow descent from his abdomen. Another gasp escaped him as my palm met his erection, slowly working its way up from the base to the end, never taking my eyes away from his. Lance slid his fingers in an inordinately gentle gesture through my hair to achieve my face, making it easier for me. His hands began to shake slightly when I finally took him in my mouth, unable to fully accommodate him as long as he was imposing.

His breathing quickened as I started my task, fascinated to be able to discover him in my turn as he had done that night with my body. Very soon, I heard him utter several quiet moans which excited me to the highest point before he hastily tugged at my hair to make me lift my head. Bluntly, he pulled me up to him while vigorously grabbing my lips, framing my face with his large hands.

- I think I want you too much, my angel.

The water hit my head heresy, hitting my long hair hard against my shoulders. How long have I been wandering here ? My eyes narrowed at the force of the rain that fell on me, I moved forward as in a kind of constant blur.

My gaze was followed by a small shadow which is quickly in front of me. Running under the downpours, she didn't seem to feel them, moving freely in the surrounding darkness. I put a feverish hand in front of my face to try to make out something around, having lost the figure between the trees. Sailing blind, a childish laugh catches my attention as I push two branches in my path. Deciding to follow the sound of that unfamiliar voice, I sank deeper into what looked like a real maze.

The closer I got to the shadow, the more it seemed to take shape before my eyes. Very soon, I could make out rainbow-colored hair that blended into pale skin, accompanied by two small horns. The young girl was running innocently, as light as the air despite the brutality of the force of nature that fell on me. My heart skipped a beat when I thought I was losing sight of her again, which prompted me to pick up my pace even more. I stumbled many times, sliding across the muddy ground, hitting oversized roots. The thundering sound of the rain covered the sound of my frantic breath, my hair clinging to my face, entering my mouth, sticking to my eyelashes. My sight was diminishing, darkness absorbed me with its cold arms.

I didn't know what to do anymore, I was lost.

But suddenly the little girl's big silent eyes appeared in front of me. An arm outstretched in my direction, she invited me to join, as bright as the sun. When my fingers made contact with her skin, the scenery changed completely, making my head spin at breakneck speed.

The movements finally calmed down. I immediately recognized the Crystal Room, but it wasn’t the one I knew now.

Several people with unfamiliar faces stood in front of me. With serious faces, they were discussing without seeming to notice my presence.

- He will be the one we send there.

- A Guard Chief, when the situation is totally out of control there ?!

- He's far too young !

- Bring him in, cut in the man who seemed to be the decision-maker here.

A shiver ran through my back as the door opened wide, letting slow, sure footsteps echo through the room. When the young man in question passes close to me, brushing my right arm in the process, a sharp sensation marked my skin under my sleeve. He seemed to feel it too, for the expression on his face changed for a brief moment, almost flustered. His gaze caressed mine without actually seeing me.

- Lance, we were expecting you.

Continuing on his way, a confident smile widened the full lips of the dragon with such youthful features.

- Please excuse me for being late, Master Kaze.

Completely caught up with what was happening in front of my eyes, I was surprised to find the young girl's little fingers wrapped around my forearm. When I turned my head in her direction, the world shifted once again.

A companion collapsed at my feet, spurting blood against my legs. A violent gag took hold of me when its organs fell from the gaping wound that sawed through its stomach. Horrified, I backed up several meters when my attention was signaled by a huge dragon crashing into the rocks not far from me, all with a thudding noise. In a last rattle that comes back to my stomach, the creature collapses to the ground before taking on a semi-human form. Tears flooded my cheeks as I rushed over to him.

- LANCE !

My voice creaked, broke in my throat. I could only see the red puddle that gradually spread around his neck like a macabre web when my vision changed once again.

I was sitting on a bed in a windowless room. Beside me, a small gas light glowing faintly in the dark. Looking down, I noticed I was perfectly dry. No more blood stained my clothes.

- So if I understood correctly, you want to help me break this damn Crystal ?

A harsh laugh shook the broad shoulders of the young man as his interlocutor didn’t move a millimeter, perfectly stoic.

- You understood me very well, Ashkore. Do you want to make this deal, yes or no ?

Lance's gaze shone with a gleam that made my blood run cold. A carnivorous smile crossed his crazy-looking face.

- Very well, my dear deamon. But don't think you'll get me right.

The light suddenly went out, revealing once again the bluish color of the great Crystal.

Serenity reigned in the room. This time, no sound comes to disturb the religious calm of this atmosphere. A movement at the back of the room made me turn around anyway, revealing Lance once again.

Alone, casually assisting on the floor, his gaze didn’t seem to want to leave the luminescent jewel.

His eyes had never been so dark.

- That was the last time he was here, until you woke up.

I jumped at the sound of the small voice behind my back. The young girl stands there, motionless. I hesitated for a moment.

- Ophelia... where are we ? I questioned weakly, having her decide to disappear again.

Her expressionless gaze was lost for a moment in the void behind me. I thought she wouldn't answer me.

- In the deepest memories of the last of the dragons.

- But why ? What are we doing here ?

Walling herself in silence, she walked straight ahead until she crossed my body and passed to the other side.

- You have to find the answer for yourself, Andraste.

The recommended image to blur around me. No, not now, I had to catch up with her !

- Ophelia !

Abruptly opening my eyes, I woke up sweating in my bed, breathing heavily from my parted lips.

I was dumbfounded when I realized that tiny ice crystals were forming under my astonished gaze.

Damn, what happened to me ?

(Chapter 17)

#eldarya #i am not your enemy #eldarya new era #eldarya lance #lance #lance eldarya #eldarya the origins #ashkore #beemoov #eldarya a new era #eldarya fanfiction #eldarya fanfic #eldarya lance fanfiction

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ramp-it-up · 3 years

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Communication

Pairing: Lin Manuel Miranda x Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Minors DNI, Dom Lin, light bondage, explicit laguage, edging, oral sex (female receiving), love fluff, marriage. All errors my own.

A/N: This an ask from the 100 smut prompts ask list by @sebastianabucknettastan (pic credit as well) AND the following birthday request from @sillyteecup

Love You Tee! I hope it’s filthy enough and that you have a great day! ❤️

Lin was talking to a reporter when he saw you enter the venue.

He was instantly pissed the fuck off, but used his acting skills to play it off.

There were so many things you needed to answer for.

First, you wore the dress he specifically told you not to wear.

The gold one that set off your skin tone and that that fit perfectly before the baby, but after, with your slightly larger thighs, hips and breasts, fit like a glove.

A skin tight glove.

Next, you put your hair up, showing off your neck and your cleavage, which was pushed up by the special fuck me bra that you had on. The one you only wore for him at home.

Then, you wore your 6-inch gold Jimmy Choos with the stiletto heels. The ones that you only wore for him at home.

That is, after your fuck me bra had been thrown across the room.

What was worse was that he didn’t know any of this before he left the house because you were taking so long to get dressed that he had to leave without you.

When you joined him, you met his cold, hard glare before the acting took over and his face broke out in a smile.

Oh. Lin was pissed, but he couldn’t let it show. He was the man of the hour.

For the next 30 minutes, you two were gracious recipients of the most mundane conversation of everyone who wanted to talk to him.

And you were especially charming, touching every man’s arm, and managing to play with every woman’s hair and smiling at all with that alluring grin that made them all practically drool into your cleavage.

As the night wore on, his smile slipped more and more. Although you were at his side, which he made sure of, he couldn’t get close enough to say anything to you, which you made sure of.

He knew what this was about. Lin had informed you that his next gig was halfway around the world and that you would either have to accompany him, or stay in New York while he had fun creating shit while you took care of your son. A single parent yet again.

Shit was getting old.

Lin didn’t want to leave you, he wanted you to come with and he couldn’t understand your resistance, especially since your job was easily mobile and you had the means to go.

But he was especially frustrated that you wouldn’t talk about it, you were just torturing him with this display of your sexy allure that he wanted to be just for him.

Each time you gave someone else the benefit of your attention, yet pulled away from him, he got more and more determined to demonstrate the importance of effective communication to you.

When you were finally seated at the head table, Lin whispered as he drew closer to you.

To everyone who was watching, and there were a lot of people watching, it looked like normal couple interaction.

But in reality, it was a threat.

"You keep acting like a little brat and I’ll take you over my knee right here. I don’t care how many people are watching.”

You finally turned the full wattage of your smile on him. His heart stopped and he wanted to crawl under the table and lick from the soles of your feet up to your pussy.

Damn, his wife was beautiful.

“Sir.”

You said it to piss him off, not project submissiveness, but you could tell by his smirk what he wanted that word to mean. Well, fuck him.

“I’m not acting like a brat, I’m acting like the wife of a Very Important Man at a Very Important Event.”

You leaned toward him and he was drawn to you, but still pissed.

“If you don’t settle down, I’ll make you.”

You turned and looked him fully in the eye.

“I’m not scared of you. What are you gonna do? Write the fuck out of a story about me?”

The raised eyebrow and disrespect was the final straw. The emcee was about to introduce him.

Lin leaned even closer.

“I got something better than a spanking. When we get home, I’m cuffing you to the bed and I’m going down on you all night until my jaw is sore. And if you straighten up now, I might let you cum.”

Your mouth dropped open as the emcee finished introducing him and Lin rose and went to the podium.

You recovered quickly and looked around to see if anyone noticed and then put on your neutral face.

————-

After his speech, it was like nothing happened. And you miraculously found some act right.

For the remainder of the night, Lin was charming to everyone, even you.

You even danced and he held you close, caressing your side and seamlessly catching your rhythm.

It was like you dreamed what he’d said, because he even kissed your hand before he led you to the car, and you even leaned your head on his shoulder and fell asleep on the way home.

It turned out to be a pretty nice night.

You got home and paid the babysitter and ordered her an Uber. Lin watched her get in the car while you went to check on the baby.

He was so freakin cute and you stayed to watch him sleep a bit, never getting enough of his big fat cheeks.

When you went into the bedroom, Lin was nowhere to be found, coming out of the walk-in closet as you closed the door.

“Hey, come here.”

His smile was his signature mix of angelic and devilish, and you were sure of what he wanted.

You were glad he seemed to forget the earlier difficulty and you glady went toward him.

Maybe you would give him some tonight and you could talk about the issue in the morning.

Lin put his hands on your shoulders.

“You look. Incredible tonight.” His hands moved down your arms and moved to clasp your fingers.

"You want me to make you come?"

"Yes." You started unbuckling his belt.

Lin pulled away from you. His eyes glinted, hard and cold.

"You want it?" He moved to sit on the bed. He patted the duvet beside him. “Come.”

You came and sat beside him, anticipation making you shiver. Lin leaned over to you, his lips oh so close, and watched as you closed your eyes.

He gave you a quick kiss on your lips and pulled you onto the bed with him.

His mouth laid ravage to yours and just as your senses went wild, he moved to pull your dress up. He stopped and smiled.

You were only wearing the fuck me bra and no panties.

“You do wanna get fucked I see. How convenient.”

You just smiled back at him and clenched your thighs together.

Him still being in his tux making you very wet.

Lin’s dark beauty was making you weak.

Lin continued to pull your dress over your arms, and you raised them to make it easier. But somehow, the dress stopped over your eyes.

You smiled before you panicked, thinking Lin was playing some cute little game.

You panicked when you realized the game wasn’t cute.

You realized the game wasn’t cute when you felt the cuffs go around your wrists and onto the bars of the bed.

“Lin?”

You could only see his outline moving around as you struggled and tested the cuffs.

“This isn’t funny Lin!” You were panicking.

“No. It’s not. But I told you what was going to happen.”

“What?”

Lin took your legs and spread them apart, you pulled them back together. He slapped your thigh and pulled them apart again.

“Leave them open or I’ll get the spreader bar.”

Lin watched your lip tremble as kept your legs open, while also watching your slick drip down your folds.

He smiled and leaned over, mouth near your ear.

“I’m going to keep my promise.” You visibly trembled.

“Do you want to watch, or not? Your choice.”

Lin’s hands were on your thighs now, slowly, too slowly moving up toward your apex. He stopped, thumbs about two inches away from your slit, and asked again.

“Well?”

You whimpered, wanting some kind of contact. Something to give you relief.

“I wanna see you Baby. I wanna see you make me cum.”

You were trying it, and Lin shifted, lifting your dress and propping your head up with it as he shook his head at you.

“IF I make you cum.”

Lin returned to the exact position he was in, with this thumbs exactly two inches away from where you needed them to be.

“I need your words. What’s your greenlight word?”

Lin moved his hands a quarter of an inch closer and you tried not to move.

“Banquo.”

“Good girl. What about when you need to stop?”

You were getting anxious. Safe word play was intense.

“Macduff.”

“Good girl. Where are we at now?”

Lin was sliding his thumbs closer to your dripping heat. He was right there and you practically screeched, “Banquo, Banquo.”

“Gooooood girl.”

Lin finished sliding both thumbs into you, circling and sliding them up and down your slit, bumping and teasing your clit, making you jump and whimper every time.

He separated his hands and put one thumb on your puckered hole and one thumb in your pussy, rotating them, fucking one hole and teasing the other.

“After I eat you out, I should take your ass. Make you squirt all over the bed. But that would involve you cuming. And I don’t know….”

“Fuckkkkk, Lin! I want you to feel how wet I am for you. C’mon. Please?”

“Keep begging.”

Your pussy fluttered around his hands and he slowly withdrew them, trailing your wetness down your thighs.

He was edging you like you had all night.

And he did.

He sat back and watched you squirm, a soft smile on his lips. He took off his jacket, loosened his tie, and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt. He stared between your legs as he rolled up his sleeves.

His fucking forearms were driving you crazy. Shit, you should not have been such a bitch.

“Damn, I would take a picture, but I have a specific purpose tonight. And I already have several in my collection.”

Lin was obsessed with your pussy. Absolutely obsessed. It was his precious.

He leaned in, his dark head obstructing your view as he oh so slowly licked a long stripe from your ass to your clit. You craned your neck to see him go to work.

“Unnnnnnnhhhhh.”

You tried to capture his tongue with some kind of impossible pussy trick, but Lin held you fast to the bed.

He chuckled into your folds, and shook his head.

“You’re hilarious.”

Then, he opened his mouth wide and stuck his talented tongue as far in your pussy that it could go, his top lip capturing your clit.

He reached up and grabbed your heaving breasts, squeezing them and rolling your perky erect nipples.

Lin was chowing down. He fucked you with his tongue until you were about to come again, but stopped. You groaned, and Lin was glad he’d soundproofed your bedroom.

“Lin. I’m sorry. Let me cum, please. Please? This pussy is yours. See how you got me? Please. I don't care what you do to me. I want you to make me feel good. Only you can Lin."

He loved your begging and pleading. He put his face in your place again, this time sucking and manipulating your clit until your legs started shaking violently.

Your curses and moans only make him lick you faster.

Lin pushed your legs back apart and inserted a finger inside you, expertly curling it, inexplicably telling you to come hither from inside your vaigna.

“NOW you want to communicate? Should have thought of that earlier.”

"Lin, its...." you breathed.

"Tell me."

Lin ordered, as he stopped what he was doing and wiped his face.

You were panting now,devastated by the loss of your orgasm, and coherent thought completely gone from your mind.

Lin reached out and rubbed your clit again. He leaned over and drew it between his lips, sucking it and making you see stars this time.

All of a sudden, he stopped sucking and gently, very gently, slapped it. Then, he inserted two fingers from behind while he slapped your clit. It was very intense.

You yelped loudly and had to open your mouth in order to breathe. Your heart was beating so fast.

"Fuck! This pussy is so pretty.”

He started alternately lightly slapping and licking your clit this time. And he stopped every so often to let you come back from the brink.

Each time he would stop, you would moan louder and louder. The first time he stopped his shirt came off, the third, his pants.

"Lin! I'm going crazy!"

"But you taste and feel and look so fucking good. I don't know if I ever want to leave where I am right now."

Lin had stopped and started stroking himself.

“Except…”

You watched him stroke and had to close your eyes.

Lin shifted and started stroking his tip at your entrance. You were panting so hard you could hardly breathe.

You wiggled your hips and Lin stopped all movement, causing you to whine and pull on the cuffs, causing your breasts to jiggle.

He leaned over, pulled your breasts from the cups of the lace cups, and captured one in his mouth, swirling his tongue around your nipple then biting down on it.

You were so overstimulated that this new sensation almost sent you over the edge. Yet again.

You were losing hope of getting satisfaction and started keening.

“Lin! Pleaseeee!”

This time the desperation in your voice triggered mercy.

And the way you were coming apart for him triggered his lust.

He continued to suck both nipples brutally until you were arching off the bed, and when he slapped your clit again, plunging two fingers inside you that curled to your spot, you came, hard, squirting all over him and the bed.

“Yes, give me all you got. Such a good girl.”

You trembled as he slid inside, and your body came alive again as he slipped in and out of you.

You could feel every ridge and vein on his huge, hard cock as he lit you up from the inside out.

You gripped him so good, despite the wetness, that he had to concentrate.

Lin moaned and kissed your pulse point as he felt your walls clench around him.

“So fucking good…so tight and wet… fuck.”

You struggled to catch your breath and Lin leaned up to lift up your ass, pulling your pelvis up to meet him on his knees.

“You feel so good. Make me want to come so bad baby. Take this dick.”

He stroked and stroked until he felt you quivering again.

“Do you like how that feels? Do you like how I’m fucking you?”

“FUCK! Yes Lin. Oh fuck yes. I love it. I want it all.”

“Pussy. Feels… so fucking… goooood.”

His thumb found your clit again. The pleasure built up in your body, your eyes rolled back into your head, and it was game over.

Lin came as you screamed and milked his cock dry.

It was perfect.

Next thing you knew, Lin was unlocking the cuffs, sitting you up and massaging your shoulders. He led you into the bathroom where the whirlpool tub was halfway full.

You hadn’t realized that you were out for a few minutes.

Lin put your hair up while the tub kept filling.

You climbed into the tub, and Lin climbed in behind you, gathering you in his arms.

You relaxed as he took care of you, his hands soothing your exhausted body.

You floated off to sleep in the warm water surrounded by Lin, the brat in you tamed.

For the moment.

——

Tagging: @theatrenerd86 @sebastianabucknettastan @imatyoursurrvicesurr @riiyy @ivycomet @lonelydance @jbrizzywrites @ohsoverykeri @curtainremote @delaber @honeysucklechocolatedrippin

#lin manuel miranda x reader #lin manuel miranda #lin manuel x reader #lin manuel miranda smut #lin x reader #lin manuel miranda imagine #lin smut #lin manuel #Lin Sin #ask dj #100 smut prompts #Happy Birthday Tee! 🎉

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crimsonfluidessence · 3 years

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Prompt 21: Feckless

Content Warning: Torture, Intense Psychological Warfare, Body Harm, Physical and Emotional Abuse It was just supposed to be getting his money back. That was all he wanted out of the woman. But oh, how quickly it had turned to seeing some of the purest forms of red Esredes was capable of seeing. Being pickpocketed in Ul'dah was to be expected to happen eventually- inconvenient that it occurred while he was trying to get supplies for his family, but just a detour to follow the woman into a more secluded space and request his money back. No big deal. He had his ability to cloak himself with an illusion, and so she didn't see him following her down past that door behind the Miner's guild and into an alley. He watched her begin to count his money with a smile on her face and a whisper of "Oh, yes." Just a common pickpocket. No need to escalate anything. "All right, little lady." He began, the illusion still disguising him, causing the woman to freeze and look around trying to locate his voice. Just to make it worse, he began pacing all around to make it more confusing as he spoke next. "Cute. Real cute little move you pulled back there, but I have places to be and so do you, no? Just give it back without trying anything and I'll leave. I'd rather not have anything unpleasant happen today now." "Who are you and what little move?" The woman hissed and tightened her hold on his gil pouch. "Don't play dumb with me, ma'am. Give me my gil back, please. Just toss it out in front of you." "This? Mine from the start," she retorted as she closed it up and put it away, then dashed past him and tried to run away. Esredes raised his hand up and fired a pink beam at the retreating woman's head without a second thought. The woman cursed sharply and she doubled back as her balance faltered, sliding a dagger out of her pocket to slash at the air. "What the hell are you?" With ease, Esredes moved behind her and rammed his sword handle into her upper back. She grunted and stumbled forward, then fell to the ground, the dagger clattering on the stone a good two feet away. She didn't get much time to struggle to get up before he knelt down and pinned her body under his legs, his sword arm securing her at the back as well. "For fuck's sake, Priya." The woman muttered under her breath as she found herself trapped. "Someone who wanted to mind his own fucking business and ask you nicely not to waste our time." Esredes finally answered her question as he retrieved the gil pouch from her pocket. The woman tried to fight back under his weight, but she was getting nowhere. She lashed a hand out to bat him away from her pocket, but Esredes lengthened his hand to form claws and slashed at it, and she tucked it back inside herself as he pushed down more with his sword. "You know, is it not a rule of thievery to fold it when you've bitten off more than you could chew? You'd do best to learn it." "As if you'd know," she spat out. "Leave me alone; it isn't like you'd need any of it!" "I was completely content to leave you alone before you pickpocketed me, thank you very much. And you don't know anything about me, little lady, so fuck off with that. You're not giving me any incentive to not report you right about now- what did you call yourself? Priya? Pretty name for a vicious little rat," Esredes remarked. "If you've eyes, this city doesn' do handouts." Esredes paused, her reply passing him over. Priya... why did the woman's name sound faintly familiar? Enough to bug him even through his tendency to forget names? It had to mean something, be from somewhere, but he didn't know a lot of people from Ul'dah... But someone he had interacted with a lot recently did, and... Esredes' eyes widened. Yes, it had been Elouan who mentioned that name to him during their most recent therapy session. The name of an ex of his who had beaten him for not making her enough money. Just a common pickpocket. Now she was also the woman who hurt his sunflower. "...Say, you must do this a lot, hm? Trying to get your way into money by any scummy means possible? Do you remember Elouan?" Priya froze at Elouan's name, but soon shifted into a smile that did not ease Esredes in the slightest. "Elouan? Dumber than a rock? What, isn't he dead?" "My gods," Esredes said. So it was true. This was the same woman and not a coincidence. The black heart in his chest pulsed hard, and dark, inky matter quickly spread through his insides. He moved his sword hand up and hit her on the side of the head with its handle. "I thought you were a simple thief, but no, you truly are a disgusting little parasite under there, aren't you? Shut the fuck up about handouts, I know what this city is, but you don't deserve them even if they existed. I show no sympathy towards an exploitative and manipulative abusive little monster like you. Oh, today is not going to be your day, little monster lady." He never did change his other hand back down- in its full display of rough and leathery skin she couldn't see, he wrapped it around her throat and pressed lightly. "Have you any idea how much you have to answer for?" Priya let out a soft noise and struggled much more aggressively now, clawing at the leathery hand with her own. "Hh--Answer? I'm answering to nothing. Call me what you want, I don't care. If you're calling me a monster, what're you?" With no eyes to find, she couldn't make eye contact, but she still shot quite the devilish look. "So he isn't dead, is he? Such a shame; I thought the 'yotes outside of Ul'Dah got him! It wasn't like he was worth much with the bets..." The inky matter only kept spreading. "He's worth far more than your pathetic, greedy little ass will ever be. But you wouldn't know anything about the worth of people because all they are to you is an ends for money, hmm?" He drew a line of blood across her throat. "I should fucking kill you. No one would be around to even notice your corpse or look for you, would they, hmm?" The woman laughed, even despite the pain. "You should? What's stopping--? No, who's stopping you? Elouan? That dumbass? Have you ever seen him come back from a loss down there? Do you know what it's like to not have any gil? Anything?" She spat at him and continued trying to fight, but his grip remained iron. "Shut the fuck up." Esredes ran his blade lightly across her forehead. She moved her hands to the ground and tried propelling herself up, but she couldn't even upset his balance. "To answer your question? Yes, I do. That's no fucking excuse to beat a man up who is willing to mutilate himself and risk his life for a woman who doesn't even consider him above maggots. He loved you because he didn't know better, didn't want to accept the evils of people, and you felt nothing." Her body tensed up and her eyes became even more hostile. "You don't have anything, no, a heart or any redeeming qualities included. You're a street rat who deserves to writhe in filth, because no part of you deserves even a single piece of gil! And to answer your other question?" He decided now was time to flicker back into existence before her eyes, his pupils compressed to slivers and sharp teeth grinning as he leaned in close to her face. "Well, if no one will find the body, I suppose nothing at all is stopping me, hm?" "He wasn't worth it. You're all talk and you still hesitate," she snickered at him. "You're still hesitating because of him, aren't you? Because you're just as weak. He wasn't fit to live long, y'know. Probably still isn't, too." "Oh, I'm not hesitating because I'm weak," Esredes smiled and pressed back hard against her struggle attempt with his sword and body, leaning even further in. "I'm hesitating because you're not getting off that easy after all you've done." He pressed harder on her throat and dug his thumb claw into it harder. "We're only getting started here. No one has made you answer for what you've done to him, and I am so glad we could meet for the occasion, unexpected as it is. Tell me, do you think you look good in red?" There was barely the shape of a creature below him by this point, just red. He ran his claws down her face, he ran his blade down both of her arms, he slapped her, all while taunting her about what a pathetic creature she was. "Get OFF," she soon shouted. "Oh, I'm sorry, you want me off?" His eyes widened for her. "Did you listen when Elouan asked you that, hmm?! Did you stop hitting him for things that were your fucking fault?!" She bit her lip and clenched her fists, shaking. "My fault? Who was the one that lost bets? Who was the one that just had to stop because it was 'too much'? Me? No; it was him!" There was venom in her words, and a lot of it. "One hit wasn't enough for him and you know that, don't you? You have to keep drilling it into his fuckin' head. He couldn't even find his way to the aetheryte even if he was fifteen fulms from the thing!" Esredes almost couldn't believe the things coming out of this rodent's mouth. "You're fucking disgusting. And wrong, on top of that." He hit her with his sword handle again. "No, your problem is that you're an impatient, selfish little aggressive piece of shit. If you actually had an ounce of patience and kindness that wasn't faked to all hell, you'd know the man can listen and learn quite fine if you explain it to him well enough. But you're not capable of that because you're not smart enough for such things and you don't actually bother to learn a thing about how people actually work. Maybe if you had the consideration outside of yourself for it, you wouldn't be stuck here pickpocketing people like a street rat, hm? People don't bend over for vicious worthless scheming selfish lowlives like yourself. You will never get anywhere in life. You cry so fucking much about how you have nothing, but in all your years of exploiting and robbing people, you still have absolutely nothing. I don't think you have anyone to blame but yourself at that point. You will die filthy, worthless, and alone, and no one is going to miss the dirt on the side of the street. Now, how many hits will it take for you to get it into your head, hm?" He punched her once. Twice. Three times. Four times. The last punch managed to make her wheeze, and she shut her eyes. "When is ever enough for you?!" "...enough," she said at last. "Enough!" His fist was raised for another blow, but he grinned at hearing the word out of her. "Ah. She did it. She is capable of having enough." He laughed for a solid few seconds. "For the first time in your life, something is enough. How does it feel, hm?" She wrinkled her nose, and tried to muster one last kick, but couldn't even. She said nothing, reaching up to try and pull his hand off her with trembling hands. Esredes took her hand and held it up by the wrist, staring at it. "Look at it. So weak, so small, so pathetic. If you'd held on to someone like Elouan and actually loved him, he'd protect you from something like this, you know. As is, you're not strong enough to protect or help yourself alone. And you never will be. You're a cold, vulnerable little lady in a harsh world, and your only response is to make it so your own existence has no justification for itself."

He wasn't done. He wasn't anywhere near done yet. He kept on going, tearing into her with more wounds. He even took his little pair of scissors he used to cut his emergency supply of gauze and cut away at her hair. She kept helplessly trying to fight back, kept trying to scream at him to stop or go away. "I'm not going anywhere yet, little lady." He eventually said, grinning as he ran a clawed finger down her face. It was gentle enough not to draw blood, and she shivered under it. "Because I am your nightmare, I am the harbinger that comes for naughty little ladies who need to be a taught a lesson about the cruelty of their own heart." He then slapped her again, and continued cutting her hair. "You want to be a cruel and heartless beast to people who don't deserve it? Well, tell me, is it worth it? Is it worth it to sit here trapped in a reflection of your own cruelty and be content to bleed out in the darkness?" "Why should I talk about worth with you?" The venom and bite of her words had gone; she no longer had the energy for it, it seemed. It wasn’t long before she even started producing tears in her eyes. "Aww," Esredes said in a low, mocking voice. "Does the beast want to cry now? Cry like you made Elouan do countless times? It didn't mean a damn thing to you. Your tears are nothing to me." “I don’t care,” she said in a low and rough voice. "Don't care about you 'n what you say." "Then why are you crying?" "I'm not crying." Tears were treading down her cheeks. "Lady, look at your own goddamn face. You can't even hold it in. Is this too much for the poor little snake to handle, hmm? You're breaking this easily? And to think, Elouan survived multiple beatings from you, and you can't even handle this. Who's supposed to be the weak one again?" "Just shut up!" She croaked in a broken voice. "Shut up! This is pointless! Leave me alone. You've got what you wanted. You've gotten more than what you wanted already," even when she shut her eyes, the tears did not stop. "This is not enough." Venom dripped into his voice. "This is nothing to what you did to him. You can wish for it to stop all you want, but that never helped him, and it's not going to help you, either. Cry all you want, it only makes this all the sweeter. You get everything that you deserve." "He's just another pet of the sands, don't you see?“ The woman said through her shaky voice. "I thought I'd be better with more than what the trade offered. I couldn't start off without--without that." "And? And? That gives you free reign to crush his heart and body for not doing every little thing perfectly for you? When this man was willing to give you all of his love and torment himself far too much for you? You know, pickpocketing a man with a voice like mine? Fair enough, I know what city I walked into. But that? That as your excuse to be cruel in pursuit of money? No. No. Here, little lady. Answer me one little thing. Do you do all of this alone, in the true sense? Do you ever have a person to your name who isn't a tool you discard?" She finally opened her eyes again, staring at her hair on the ground. "Alone? Why'd I do it with anyone else? We're all just tools for anyone else to use--you either climb the ladder or get stuck in the lion's den. He was--he was too fuckin' much! His whining, his talking, his forgetfulness. All I wanted was gil for myself 'n business. Not the thing behind it." It wasn’t every day Esredes held true evil in his hands, trapped in his talons like a snake to an eagle. But hearing her twisted explanation only further caused his heart to rage in hatred. "Good. Fucking. Lord." He said. "People like you are the kind I despise the most. Your entire philosophy is so fucking stupid at its core, and all of you claim it's the most intelligent thing ever. I'll tell you a little story. I too have had absolutely nothing at multiple points in my life." On he went snipping her hair as he talked. "Do you know how you get away from having absolutely nothing? Yes, you have to have sharp skills of self reliance and the ability to climb out yourself, but you can only get so far on your own. You need, and I mean truly need, other people in order to truly build yourself up past a certain point. This is why types like you either never make it or end up dead eventually when someone else brings you down. You only make your own life harder by approaching people so selfishly without anything to add to it. People will see right through you, they'll tear you apart without sympathy or mercy, because you don't offer anything to last with people beyond the short term. If you don't blow everything in the short term with other people, and they aren't people like you, you get rewarded for being good to them. People are more willing to help you out of bad situations without you needing to do a thing because they remember when you were there for them, therefore becoming much more viable and sustainable than a one time deal you blow and suffer the consequences. You really think the world is going to bend to your greedy little will because you want money? No. It won't. It doesn't fucking care, and you know this. Lady, I don't know why I have to be the one telling you this with how smart you think you are, but here's a simple lesson on how people work. People talk. People complain. People forget things. People are not perfect little devices for you to drain gil out of, they are incomplete and flawed things trying their best. And people aren't very useful if you can't follow the basic law of economics and make a fair trade. You'd think growing up here, you'd understand this. Now, my point is, I was alone with nothing. And now? I have enough that you don't want to know the number of people who fear me, little lady. I didn't get this way by draining gil out of people like a vampire. I had to give something of myself, I had to sacrifice, I had to bleed for other people first, but people don't forget what you do for them, or to them. Each person you meet is a powerful weapon in their own right, a valuable resource beyond just money they make. And only a fool would discard such power. You're just a weak, stupid little thief who will never make it because you don't even understand what it takes to get out of your situation. You'll forever be in the den because you fall off the ladder every single time. There is a place to be vicious, there is a place to be kind. But you wouldn't know the difference if it held you down and punched you repeatedly in the face. I truly hope you never make it in life. The world doesn't need more people like you. Your kind can only drain the world of its resources and make it a worse place, all while declaring that the world is the evil one. Well have you ever fucking thought of being something that isn't so deserving of the world's evils? Because here you are now, bleeding out and crying, while Elouan is somewhere safe, having escaped, and is much happier because he's with people who appreciate his kindness for what it is. You have nothing for others to see. No one will ever lift you up off of here, because you'll never, ever deserve it." The woman laid there and absorbed his verbal blows, still too weak to fight back in any way. Tears still streamed down her face. "So what if I don't deserve it? I don't care. I don't care, I don't want to care, I just--" "You just what, lady? What is it? What is it you want to scream out right about now?" Priya gritted her teeth and out came a strangled cry. "--I don't want to be here. I don't want people around me or in m'life. I don't want anyone close to me! I don't want to be hurt like I've hurt them. I just want to be. Be dead? Fuckin' fine, do it already!“ "Is that seriously all you want from life? To be alone with money?" "What else? Money can't hurt me like they could." "Wow." Esredes said. "Just wow. You know, popular sayings exist for a reason. People who are alone with money are some of the people most likely to drink themselves or take drugs into dying. I grew up in Ishgard. Everyone in the noble circle has money and guess what? We're all still fucking miserable and want to die, broken empty shells of people. People still treat you like trash and shit no matter how nice you look and how perfectly polite your tone is. You still die empty and unfulfilled and ultimately meaningless. ...But you know this in some capacity, don't you?" He leaned down close to her face again, and she shut her eyes. "Is it not just because you want this to stop that you keep trying to taunt me into ending you, hmm? Are you sick enough of festering in your own shallow existence that you want to just spare the world the burden of you?" “You already know the answer, don’t you? I’ve got nothin’ to my name or kin! Why keep me around if that’s all I have, aye?” "Exactly. There's no reason at all." He smiled. "If I gave you your dagger back, would you be able to do it, hmm?" Priya kept sniffling. She opened her eyes and they landed on her dagger, past the scraps of her hair. "It'd be the one good thing you ever do in your life." He continued on. "You'd finally give back to the world, as your corpse decays and the nutrients can be absorbed to go to things more deserving of them..." “Stop talking,” she mumbled yet again. But Esredes only grinned. "Just think about it. No more waking up in pursuit of your empty desires. No more pickpocketing and feeding on scraps. Just the sweet embrace of nothing washing over you, finally an end to all the suffering. You won't be weak anymore. You won't have to feed for more, and more, and more... you will finally have enough." “I said stop.” "You'll never make it. So why keep trying? You're not smart enough to make it, you're not clever enough. You don't have what it takes. All you'll ever do is prolong your own agony, stuck in the same cycle, over and over and over... is that really a worthwhile existence?" “Stop it! Stop talking! I’ve enough of this and, gods, just stop.” The woman managed to shout, but it so quickly became shaky, weak, and small once more. "You keep telling me to stop because you know I'm right. You just don't want to admit it." He took the final strands of her hair and positioned the scissors around them. "One moment, you're here, writhing in your own filth, and the next..." Snip. She hissed. "Release. Catharsis. Nothing." He held the hair out to her to look at. "See, you have a golden opportunity. No one cares about you. No one will notice if you die. You have no burdens tying you down to this earthy plane, you can release yourself like a balloon and fly. Wouldn't that be so wonderful, to see the sky...?" “I won’t see shite,” she retorted with certainty, stretching her arm to try and reach the dagger, only for Esredes to move it further away with a rock. "Alas," he said. "If you do it later, I won't stop you- but for right now, it's not time yet.” He threw the hair to scatter about the tunnel. “All this talk for not yet? Bullshite!” "You're not deserving of a quick death, dearest. No one with a heart as cold and empty as yours is." It would still be some time before he finally let her go. Tied up and unable to escape the tunnel with that pouch of opioids on her- a perfect trapped creature for the local authorities of Ul’dah to pick up. It was not enough. He couldn’t make it enough no matter how little he held back, and he knew it. Nothing would make up for what she did to his beloved Elouan. He would never completely understand the local parasites of the world that pretended to be human like her. Why were they all so content to live a destructive life focused only on themselves? Were they so wrapped up in themselves they couldn’t notice how boring they were, how little and shallow of an existence it was? They would go on, intimidating or charming those around them to feed their selfish empire- but at their core, they were weak nothings, and Esredes saw them for what they were. “Sorry, it was very crowded at the market today. I couldn’t get everything.” Esredes said to his parents later. “I’ll get it all in the morning before I leave. It should be much easier to navigate…” ——— @shieldbcund Priya, Elouan

#writing #in action #villain aesthetic #elouan #ffxivwrite2021 #screenshots

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alyssawritesss · 3 years

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COMMANDER LEXA: LONG LIVE THE NEW QUEEN

Fandom: The 100 Pairing: Commander Lexa x Fem!Reader Prompt: N/A Warnings: spoilers for 3x04, angst, death, violence Notes: Y/N = Your Name

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TAGS: @sxturn-stars (permanent tags) // @xxstrangegirlxxx @johnmurphyisbisexual (the 100 tags)

You stood in the town square of Polis, whipping your sword back and forth as part of your last bit of training before the fight. You felt absolutely sick to your stomach thinking about what was about to happen. Your mother Queen Nia, the leader of Azgeda, had challenged Commander Lexa to a fight to the death. However, instead of your mother fighting for herself, she had named you to fight in her honour. Should Lexa win, she would remain in power. Should you win, Azgeda would take over.

Unbeknownst of everyone, you and Lexa were close… extremely close. When your mother had banished you, Lexa had agreed to help you as long as you were to stay far away from her people out of fear that you would betray her and hurt them. Over time Lexa learned to trust you and the two of you had grown closer, developing a relationship.

You knew what you had to do; you knew what your mother was like and even though you had no sense of loyalty to her, you felt you owed your people. Sure you weren’t in charge, but they were your people. If you didn’t win this battle, you’d be letting them all down. Still, thinking about killing Lexa was something you never wanted to have to do.

“Princess Y/N… It is time. Lexa will be coming out shortly.”

You turned around, spotting your mother’s second in command. Nodding, you took a breath. “Thank you.”

“Are you sure you can handle this? Azgeda is counting on you.”

“Are you questioning my capability?” You glared. “Believe me, I want nothing more than for Azgeda to be in charge.”

He nodded. “I’m sorry, Princess.”

“Of course.” You responded, mustering a smile. “Now, why don’t you go find my mother… I’ll be there in a moment.”

Nodding once again, the man made his way over to the crowd surrounding the arena. You watched him idly for a moment before closing your eyes. You’ve got this, Y/N… You told yourself. Feelings don’t matter, your people do.

With that final thought, your attention was stolen by the sound of cheering coming from the arena. You knew Lexa had arrived and now it was your turn to make your way over.

…

Standing in the arena side by side with Lexa facing the stage, you could feel your heart falling into your stomach. Though your expression was as cold as your mother’s heart, Lexa could see right through it; she knew this was killing you, almost as much as it was killing her.

“In single combat there is but one rule. Someone must die today.” Titus spoke, his voice soft yet loud enough for all to hear. “You may begin.”

Looking at Lexa once more, you both made your way over to opposite ends of the arena. You met with one of your people, who handed you a sword. Nodding in appreciation you turned around, spotting Lexa facing away from you.

Just do it. This has to be done… Just get it done as fast as possible.

Rushing towards Lexa, you made your move. Before your sword could come in contact with her body, she quickly drew her own and spun around, blocking it with her own causing you to fly forward as she jumped out of the way. Cheers erupted through the crowd, causing your body to tense for a moment. As Lexa raised her sword, you quickly followed suit, the two of you making your way towards each other. Once again, your swords collided, inching back and forth, closer to each others throats by the second.

As you pushed the sword closer to Lexa, you noticed the panic forming in her eyes. “I’m sorry… I never wanted this.” You mumbled.

Lexa’s eyes met yours for a moment, taking them in. Without warning, Lexa grabbed onto the opposite end of her sword and began pushing with all of her might, pushing you backwards.

You quickly regained your footing, swinging your sword in her direction once again. Lexa swung back before you knocked her to the ground, kicking her sword out of her hands. Quickly catching her breath, Lexa punched you in your leg, causing you to fall to your knees as she tugged your sword from your hands. With a smirk, Lexa made her way over to her own sword, picking it up from the ground.

In a panic you stood to your feet, stepping backwards frantically. What the hell am I supposed to do now?

At the corner of your eye you spotted one of Lexa’s people in the crowd, holding a harpoon. You rushed over, pushing them as you grabbed it from their hands. “Thanks.” You spoke, turning back around to meet Lexa’s gaze.

The two of you approached the centre of the arena, glaring heavily. You both began swinging once again, you managing to knock one of the swords from Lexa’s hand. As she tumbled backwards slightly, you continued you swing, her barley able to keep up. As she lifted her sword once again you took your chance, lifting your leg and delivering a swift kick to her chest causing her to fly backwards, the final sword escaping her grip.

You swung the harpoon around in your hand, walking over to her. “Game over, Lexa…” You spoke, your voice booming. Taking a deep breath, you lifted the harpoon higher, driving it into the ground with every once of strength inside of you. Before you could even take in what was happening, Lexa rolled out from under you, the harpoon hitting just her hair. Delivering a kick to your leg once again, Lexa sent you backwards as she quickly picked herself off the ground.

Both of you stood face to face once again, Lexa without anything to defend herself. You hesitated for a moment, breaking your composure. Lexa took note, using your weakness against you. She charged towards you, catching you off guard and causing you to swing the harpoon around without much direction. In only a mater of seconds Lexa had managed to knock the harpoon from your grip, grabbing it for herself. With the impact you fell to your knees once more.

Lexa eyed you for a moment before grabbing the handle and middle of the harpoon, driving the bar into your chin with such great force your head flew backwards.

With you now lying on the ground, Lexa towering over you, you took a shaky breath.

“Get up!” Your mother yelled from the stage as she stood from her seat. “If you die, you don’t die a princess, you die a coward!”

Lexa watched your mother for a moment before looking back down at you.

You closed your eyes for a moment, shaking your head. “Just get it over with, alright?” You spoke, your voice barley there.

Taking a deep breath, Lexa’s eyes remained on yours. “Jus drein jus daun.” She spoke, lifting the harpoon. You closed your eyes, awaiting the impact. After what felt like an eternity, you heard screams erupt around you.

You slowly opened your eyes, Lexa still towering over you. She smiled lightly, her gaze turning towards the crowd as you sit up, looking around. Your face turns pale as you realize what had happened; your mother remained in her seat, now pinned to it with a harpoon through her chest.

Looking to Lexa, your jaw dropped.

“The queen is dead!” She spoke. “Long live the new queen!”

As cheers began to fill your ears, your eyes remained glued to Lexa. She looked back at you, offering out her hand, which you accepted. Now standing, Lexa looked you in the eyes.

“Don’t ever be sorry…”

~~~~~~~~~~

A really old piece (requested) from my really old blog. I totally forgot about this one but I still love it so much. Kinda want to do a mini series for it... Would anyone want that? Also, sorry for the spam for my tagged peeps, I’m just super inspired to write/post and impatient today lmfao Want to send me a request? You can do so HERE. Please remember to note and/or reblog if you enjoyed!!

#the 100 #the 100 imagines #the 100 preferences #commander lexa #commander lexa imagines #commander lexa preferences #commander lexa fanfic #commander lexa fanfiction #alyssawritesss: commander lexa

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buriednurbckyrd · 4 years

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The Breakup Box (3)

Not here, was her first thought. It was too personal, too intimate to have the conversation when she slept. But where? What could be neutral ground but also private enough that no one else could overhear what needed to be said?

“The water,” she blurted out. “I mean...” She paused and swallowed the lump in her throat. “Yes. We do need to talk, but can you meet me over by the water in a few minutes?” Bucky's face remained impassive but Steve nodded.

“Okay, five minutes. We'll meet you there.” He started to turn but Bucky held his arm out to stop him.

“So you can have a chance to bolt? I don't think so, we'll go together.”

“Come on, Buck.” Steve sighed.

“No, that's fair.” Y/N said quietly. “I wasn't going to leave,” she shot Bucky a pleading look as if silently begging him to believe her. “But I haven't exactly given either of you reason to trust me not to.” She turned and took a zippered hoodie from her closet and slipped it on. There was a chill around her and she expected it would linger until the air was cleared. Knowing they would follow behind, she started walking.

What would she even say? Before she had seen them she thought she had known. It was completely foreign experience for her. There were never awkward silences between the three of them, she could tell them anything and everything. Hadn't Bucky been willing to share the darkest parts of his past? And Steve was always telling her stories of their childhood, good and bad. She hesitated for a moment at the door, overwhelmed by the onslaught of emotions. Fear licked up her spine and her entire body went numb with it.

“Y/N?” Steve touched her shoulder gently and it jolted her back to reality. She shoved the door open and forced her legs to continue to move. Her chest tightened and she fought the urge to hyperventilate and kept her breaths deep and even. She realized the only thing she wanted was one of their hugs which never failed to make her feel safe and secure. Another icy shard bloomed in her belly at the thought. She prayed after it was over that could still be an option.

They followed her to the casual seating area by the large pond on the property. The late afternoon sun gleamed over the water. It was tranquil and quiet. Y/N was too full of anxious energy to sit so she paced. Steve nudged Bucky with his elbow.

“Be patient, okay?” He said quietly. “She's here, that's half the battle. Let her go at her own pace.” Bucky replied with an annoyed sound, but he made no move to prod Y/N along.

“Could you, I don't know…just sit down or something?” She finally said after a long silence. “You're making me more nervous standing like that.” Steve settled down on a bench and gestured at Bucky to join him. She stopped in front of them and looked up. “I don't even know where to begin.” She told them, misery written all over her face.

“Could start with an apology.” Bucky muttered under his breath and grunted when Steve kicked his shin.

“I really do apologize for how I acted,” she wrung her hands together. “Neither of you did anything wrong and I should have just been honest.” She pressed her fingers over her eyes, refusing to cry. “I'm so, so sorry. I've been dealing with a lot of shit but there's no excuse for treating either of you like I did.” Steve leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“What happened, Y/N? I just want to understand.” He looked over at the other man. “We want to understand.”

“Short story? I got dumped. And before that, I was totally humiliated.” Bucky crossed his arms.

“Gonna need the long story, sweetheart.” The pet name, however briskly delivered gave her a small flame of hope.

“I figured.” She began to pace again. “I was a fucking idiot. I planned this whole getaway because I couldn't see what was right in front of me. And that's embarrassing enough on its own, but it gets worse. I told him, hey, you always plan our dates let me do this. Booked a fancy hotel room, probably the nicest place I've ever stayed in my whole life. Tony helped me get a reservation at this amazing new sushi restaurant, which I thought would be such a great surprise since he had mentioned wanting to try it when it opened.

And like a chump I didn't notice how antsy he was about it all. Disappeared when I checked us in. Practically sprinted to the room.” She let out a bitter laugh. “Tried to sweet talk me out of going to dinner. Which I almost fell for, but I had a brand new dress and I wanted to wear it. I wanted to go eat world class cuisine with my boyfriend and feel like a princess.” She chewed on her thumbnail. “Everything went smooth a silk. I felt pretty, the food was incredible, so far it was a perfect night. Then on our way out he suddenly turns green. Not because the food didn't agree with him, but because we run into a group of his friends. And introduces me as a client.”

“Excuse me?” Steve sounds stunned.

“Yup. Not his girlfriend of nearly ten months. A client of the company he works for.”

“Why?” Bucky demands.

“Oh believe me, as soon as we were alone I asked. Kind of wish I didn't.” She gestured at her body. “Because of this. Because according to him, I don't look like a believable romantic partner for him.”

“You're fucking joking.”

“Hand to god, Buck. I have more stamina than he could ever hope to achieve, not to mention the fact that I could literally hand him his own ass. But because I don't look a certain way, don't meet some set of societal standards I wasn't good enough to be seen with him by people he knew. Then all those nagging little red flags were suddenly clear as day. He always took me to obscure little places. Never any place popular or busy if we went out. Most of the time he invited me to his place for dinner and I thought it was sweet and romantic that he wanted to cook for me. He made me into a fool.”

“Please tell me you don't believe that,” Steve stood up and grabbed her hands. “Y/N, you're one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen in my life, inside and out. That guy is the one that should be ashamed.” She smiled softly and drew her hands back.

“Thanks. I know he's the one that's lacking. He's the one that isn't good enough for me. But it doesn't mean that it didn't sting.” She blew out a long breath. “Him coming back to the hotel to drop of that box of my belongings was a pretty big slap in the face too. Just let all the hotel staff know how stupid I was.”

“Stop saying that,” Bucky finally spoke up. “I can't stand it when you put yourself down.”

“Sorry,” she scrubbed her hands over her face. “I know it's a bad habit.”

“Y/N, why didn't you end it then and there? Why did you let him break it off?” Steve asked.

“Because I was a coward, don't argue with me right now Bucky, I was. And even though he was wrong about almost everything he wasn't about the biggest issue.” Her heart started to race, was she actually going to do this?

“What issue?” Bucky prompted. She looked at the both of them, eyes sad.

“I didn't really want to be with him. If I had, I never would have overlooked all the ways he mistreated me, disrespected me. Every resentment and accusation just spilled out then, and there was absolutely nothing I could do or say because it was all true.” She couldn't stop the tears any more, and it felt like weakness. “Shit, I wasn't going to cry. I'm not trying to get pity or anything.”

“Didn't think that for a second.” Bucky said softly, his heart ached for his friend.

“Everything is my fault,” she said bitterly. “I did the only thing I promised I would never do, I lied. To him, to myself.” She choked on a sob. “To both of you.” Steve reached out for her. “No, don't.”

“What are you talking about? What did you lie about?” His blue eyes were so full of concern. She shook her head violently.

“I can't tell you!” She yelled. “But I can't not tell you either!”

“Y/N, please whatever it is-”

“I can't be around you anymore and keep it in, that's why I keep running away. But if I tell you and lost you both I couldn't bear it!” She held her head in her hands and trembled. Both men tried to get a hold of her but she dodged them.

“There's nothing you could say that would make us walk away from you.” Bucky said in a thick voice.

“He's right, you're our girl, Y/N.” Steve meant it to be comforting but it only upset her more.

“Am I though?” She wiped her eyes furiously. “Because I love you.” She looked at them both, and her shoulders slumped. “I'm in love with you, both of you.” Steve and Bucky could only stare at her in shock. “That's why I kept running, I can't keep all this,” she pressed her hands over her heart. “Locked away anymore. I was hoping maybe I could get it under control, but I can't. Being around you both is so overwhelming. I don't deserve your forgiveness because it was selfish. It's selfish telling you, and I never wanted to put you in this position.”

“Y/N...” Steve reached for her again.

“I don't expect anything.” Her voice was flat, as if all the wind had gone out of her sails. “You have each other and all I want is you to be happy together.” She gasped when Bucky's vibranium hand closed over her wrist, pulling her roughly towards him. His other hand was warm and gentle when it cupped her cheek, and before she knew what was happening his lips were on hers. When he pulled away her eyes were as big as saucers. “What?” Steve swept in before she could finish her thought and kissed her too, holding her against his body.

“Our girl.” He murmured into her ear. She found herself sandwiched between the two of them.

“You always were.” Bucky told her and she could the smile in his voice.

#steve x bucky #steve x reader x bucky #stucky x reader #reader insert #plus sized reader

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nikkzwrites · 3 years

Text

The Girl I Left Behind | Peaky Blinders Fic | Thomas Shelby x OFC | Chapter 2

A/N: So this is a story of a Scottish Mobster named Elspeth Finley and her adventures with and becoming a Shelby.

Content Warning: Smoking, Alcohol, Canon Typical Behavior, Canon Typical Triggers

Words: ~3.7k

[First Chapter] [Next Chapter]

Campbell was working at his desk when a young woman walked in. Her auburn hair curled nicely and wearing an outfit he would not have expected from this type of area. He stood up and cleared his throat. He motioned to the chair for her to sit. He watched as she gently made herself comfortable. She seemed to embody poise and elegance, yet with a slight playful air to her. He felt drawn to what she was to say. “So,” the man cleared his throat, “What brings you here?”

Elspeth smiled at the man and leaned forward, “I heard through the grapevine you were working with Thomas Shelby to lure out the IRA. I believe I might have a better way to help you.”

Maggie giggled as John swung her around the shop. She reached up to press his forehead against her’s. Her blonde hair tickling his skin as she asked him, “How did you convince my hard headed sister to allow us to get married?”

“I don’t quite know to be honest,” John shook his head as he grabbed a bit of whiskey from Seumas Finley’s desk, “One minute I thought she was going to decline and have me kicked out just as you said, then she looked at your Archie and he said he saw nothing wrong with it.”

Maggie shook her head, “Did she very well say anything?”

John shook his head as he took a large gulp from the bottle, “I don’t think so, but I did hear from Thomas that he needed to talk to your family about the arrangements. I assume Archibald, yeah?”

Maggie raised her brow, “Archie?”

John nodded, “Is it not going to be Archibald? He seems to be the one who is in charge.”

Elspeth sat across from Thomas at the Garrison looking over paperwork. The woman spoke up, “You still haven’t asked about the dowry or more about the marriage agreements.” She put her pen down from addressing and writing invitations. She sat back and looked at Thomas expectantly.

“A bit archaic,” Thomas commented without looking up. His voice holding just a bit of playfulness. He also placed his pen down to take a sip of his whiskey. His eyes tried to avoid hers so that he could not have a moment of visual weakness. Thomas knew he needed time to be able to look at her without his thoughts written in his icy orbs. He looked over to Elspeth’s work and commented, “your penmanship is beautiful. Wouldn’t have expected that from you.”

“I went to finishing school, you know,” Elspeth remarked back. Her voice showed her aggravation at Thomas’ teasing. She scolded him, “You act too familiar for someone who hasn’t been acquainted with me for nearly two decades.”

Thomas chuckled and sat back to finally look her over again, “graduated finishing school, yet still no husband at your age? Such a disappointment and a waste of precious schooling.” He chuckled and smirked at her. Thomas wanted her just as emotionally compromised as him when they first made eye contact again. So that she had nothing over him when their eyes met.

Elspeth rolled her eyes, “Am I to assume you are going to talk that business with my brother then?”

Thomas hummed a positive and placed his glass down. “Why would I bore you with such business when it is for Archibald and I to discuss,” he asked as he lit a cigarette for him to smoke.

Elspeth waited for him to take a large puff in before she gently stole the cigarette from its resting place on his lips and took in a deep drag. She placed it back where she found it and sat back again. She asked, “Why would you join me in doing such tedious work when it’s customary for your sister to join me? One might say, something for Ada and I to do.”

Thomas took the cigarette from his lips after taking in another breath from it and placed it on the tray to smoke up the room, “I have the better handwriting.” He chuckled and said, “Besides, our sweet Ada has four brothers and no sisters. It would be unfair to expect her to write them all the time.”

“Well, at least now all of you can ask darling Maggie to write as well,” Elspeth noted, “So your Ada could have perfectly helped me. Or maybe your aunt could have done this with me instead if Ada didn’t want.”

Thomas gave a slight nod and went back to his work, “I guess you could say that I volunteered so that I could have some pleasant company and soft features to admire this evening. I did have a matter I wanted to discuss with you.”

“Oh,” the woman questioned.

“About our speeches,” Thomas noted, “I am to assume you are her maid of honor?”

Elspeth nodded, “Well, of course, I am her closest sister. What was it about our speeches?”

Thomas squashed the cigarette to stop the smoke as he spoke, “I thought we could coordinate our speeches. Make them and the wishes the same to show solidarity in the families and this union becoming a symbol of peace.”

Elspeth smiled. Her heart raced in excitement and anxiety. He had fallen for the trap beautifully and was even making everything more convenient for her, “Oh? What were you thinking of wishing for the couple?”

Ada and Aunt Pol played their cards as they waited for the boys to get home. They were both getting wrapped into this wedding as well. They had only met Maggie for a few minutes, but already the women of the Shelby family had some very strong opinions about the entire situation.

“You said that the little blonde one John is hitching is the sister of that little Finley girl Thomas couldn’t shut up about for years,” Polly asked.

Ada nodded, “Yup. Exactly what I said.”

Polly nodded, “And Thomas is just… okay with John marrying into that family?” She took a deep breath with her cigarette.

“From what it seems at least,” Ada drew and placed another card down, “I think he was out writing up the invitations with her, Elspeth.”

Polly shook her head, “I’m sure he is up to no good about this.”

“Wouldn’t be Thomas if he wasn’t,” Ada remarked.

The elder woman shook her head, “The little blonde one-”

“Maggie.”

“-doesn’t seem to have an ounce of what it takes to be married into these boys and their work. Too soft and sweet, that one,” Polly finished her comment. There was a moment before the matriarch of the Shelbys spoke again. She rolled her eyes and asked, “They are Scots, right? Protestant or Catholic?”

Ada shrugged, “I don’t know if they celebrate. The older ones don’t seem to be religious folks.”

Polly shook her head, “Of course.”

“I actually really like Maggie,” Ada commented, “She seems like she would be a good mother for John’s little ones. Lord knows we’re tired of them.” She laughed.

Polly laughed, “Maybe her sister will come and help her so that we can have more of a break as well.”

Seumas stood with Archibald at their bar. He rolled his eyes and asked, “So, are you sure Elsie agreed to all of this? If I know anything about my twin, she would not want-”

Archibald glared at his younger brother, “You forget Seumas, it is for me and Elspeth to speak about. You need not worry to what we decide.”

“But what about Thom-”

“I said,” his voice raised, “It is for our sister and I discuss. You need not to bother yourself with such matters. Just find yourself a wife. You had some years to do so. Our sister gave up those years for you and you repay her with meddling in her and I’s affairs.”

“You forget, I was the head of the household while you were gone and she is my twin sister not yours Archie,” Seumas argued, “I know more about our family and our sisters’ hearts than you do.”

Archibald yelled, “If you knew our dear sister’s heart, then you would have stopped her five years ago, but you are nothing but a coward to preys upon her sympathies and love for the man who shared her mother’s womb for the same time she did!”

Seumas yelled, “She chose that for herself, not me! She threw herself into the fire so that our siblings could have a chance! What was our family going to do with just a 22 year old girl to raise three children!? How was she going to protect them by herself?”

“The same way she protected herself when she was alone in both France and Germany,” Archibald roared, “Our sister is made of hellfire. Don’t you dare ask me how Elsie would have managed! You just didn’t love her enough!”

“And you love no one else but her,” Seumas growled back, ”she and I share a soul and you just cannot stand that can you? You despise that I can know exactly what she is thinking and you just have to be along for the ride. Elspeth and I saved our family from ruin in every sense of the word while you ran off to play good little soldier for a King who isn’t even ours.”

Elspeth smiled as she did her sister’s hair, “You look absolutely beautiful. Tonight everyone’s eyes will have a hard time parting from you.”

“I just want my John,” Maggie giggled as she did her younger sister’s hair, “Thank you for preparing all of this. I know it must be very...awkward… to have the reception before the wedding.”

Elspeth shook her head, “I just want my closest sister happy.” She held her sister tightly trying to calm herself. She kissed her sister’s head. Elsie whispered into her sister’s golden hair, “Anything for you, my darling.”

Lucy huffed from the front of the sisters doing each other’s hair train and mumbled, “I’m here too you know.” This prompted the older two to laugh as they all held each other close.

Thomas knocked on John’s door. The man’s brother was already drinking and laughing with their eldest brother. Thomas sighed and asked, “Do you really think this is the best way to present yourself for marriage to your refined bride?”

John laughed, “You are so attached to this.”

“Maybe because he thinks after this he can scoop up her older sister that he’s been waiting fifteen years,” Arthur laughed.

Thomas mumbled, “Seventeen.” He cleared his throat, “But my relation to the situation is irrelevant.”

John stood and walked past his brother with a smirk, “Besides, Maggie likes me rowdy.” He winked and walked to the Finley’s with the rest of his family trailing behind.

Ada walked with Thomas asking him, “You aren’t planning anything, are you? I do know that you had your heart set on her sister for a long time.”

“That was years ago Ada,” Thomas told his sister, “I wish that everyone would let it die.” He entered the bar with his siblings to see the Finley siblings. Maggie ran straight to her future husband to be swung around happily. His own blue eyes found their way to the future bride’s older sister. A small smile grew on his face seeing the woman wishing his younger brother well as well as making the introductions of her own youngest siblings to his own. Finn and her youngest sister were right around the ages that he and the oldest Finley girl had met. He recognized the looks on their faces quite well.

Ada leaned to whisper into her brother’s ear, “That look on your face means your feelings haven’t quite died so why should we let the topic die with it?”

Lucy tilted her head looking at Finn Shelby. He was such a cute boy. She smiled and told him, “You’re my boyfriend now.”

Finn blinked and shook his head, “No way. That’s gross.” He tried to stand tall to be intimidating like his older brothers, but he watched her face change to one of disappointment. He blushed and huffed, “Fine. Whatever you want.”

Lucy giggled and grabbed his hand, “Well then, come on. I want to introduce you to my cousins. They are here from Ireland.” She ran off with the boy.

Elspeth smiled seeing Lucy and Finn. She walked further in and spoke with some of her family members that she had purposely invited knowing they were IRA. The familiar feeling of a pair of eyes on her tingled her neck. She smiled and moved to talk to the older brother of the pair of eyes staring at her.

Thomas spoke with some of his own friends while his eyes never left the woman he had met so long ago. When he spied her talking to Arthur, Thomas excused himself from the conversation to start walking towards them. He was unfortunately stopped by the announcement made by Archibald Finley.

Archibald smiled as he stood on a chair. He called out loudly over everyone’s conversations, “Excuse me everyone! It seems to me that dinner is ready. So everyone find your seats and we can get started.”

As the dinner started, John whispered to his soon to be wife. He adored watching her face blush as he playfully joked about their families and making suggestive comments. He felt as though this was going to be the best day of his life. Arthur laughed and reminisced with Archibald about their little siblings. Archibald seemed to be shifting awkwardly and spoke very decidedly. Seumas noticing this, interrupted and started to tell some funny childhood stories of Maggie as well. Edward and Lucy argued as Finn looked pleadingly at Ada to save him from the hot headed Scots. Ada, however, was speaking to some of the Finley cousins. Thomas carefully drank from his whiskey. He noticed something off. Elspeth looked far different from how she was with him earlier. There was something beneath the surface that she was hiding. When she made a small giggle, his brain connected it to the woman he saw in France. But that was in the middle of the war. How could Elspeth be there? Polly sat back and simply watched everyone else. She started to have a very bad feeling about this. Something in the back of her mind screamed at her that this wasn’t going to work out as everyone was hoping.

After everyone was nearly done, Seumas stood up and spoke, “Now let’s hear from the best man, Thomas Shelby!”

Thomas stood and held up his glass. His refined speech making voice emerged as he spoke, “I would like to take this time to make a toast to the bride and to the groom. From your brother who will always be by your side. To your union and the hope you provide, may you always be satisfied.” He held up his glass higher and waited for the cheers before taking a gulp down. He motioned and said, “And now for the Maid of Honor, Elspeth Finley.”

Elspeth smiled. Her face lit up completely. The woman stood on top of the table, “Thank you so much. I too would like to make a toast.” She strolled across to the head of the table where John and Maggie sat, “To the groom!” She smiled and laughed with John. She then pulled her younger sister up onto the table so that they could spin together for a second, “To the bride! From your sister who’s always by your side!” Elspeth pushed her sister into John’s lap as she yelled, holding her glass up to everyone else now, “To the union and the hope you provide!” She waited for the roar from the Blinders and Banshees to calm before she continued with her eyes locked into direct contact with Thomas’. Her voice was much more restrained as if speaking to only Thomas, “May you always be satisfied.” She raised her glass higher.

Just as the glass touched her lips, pounding on the doors disturbed everyone. Quickly, the doors were broken down and cops flooded in. Campbell smiled and said, “Thank you, Thomas.” He turned and said, “Arrest the traitors.”

Suddenly everyone jumped into action. Seumas placed his sister off the table as Archibald yelled over the full out brawl the Banshees and Blinders were having with the cops, “What’s going on?”

Elspeth looked at her little brother and spoke, “Get the lovebirds and the Shelby’s outta here.” She turned to go with her older brothers to try and work everything out and to stop the fighting.

“Yessir,” Edward spoke. He hopped on the table and started to dodge the blows coming from all directions. He herded the Shelby’s and got them through the secret hall out to the back. He pushed Maggie and John through first. Then watched Lucy drag Finn and Ada after them. Edward got Arthur to go next and grabbed onto Polly to guide her through leaving Thomas, Elsie, Seumas, and Archibald behind.

Maggie looked panicked at John and asked, “What’s going on? I thought your brother had a deal with them?”

Polly stared as people started to pour out of the building. She watched as the older three Finley’s emerged from the same secret exit they went through. Thomas getting dragged out by Seumas.

John stormed to Thomas and pulled him up, “What the hell Tommy!”

Edward ran up to his oldest siblings who were counting heads and spoke, “Everyone is accounted for. We were just waiting for you four.”

“What are you blaming me for,” Thomas asked his brother, pushing himself away.

Arthur tried to get in the middle of his younger brothers, “Tommy. I don’t think now is the best time…”

“I KNOW you did this,” John roared, trying to push past Arthur to get to Thomas. He grabbed his brother by his collar and pulled him towards his face, “You addressed those invitations just to find out the guest list! You allowed us all to think you were alright with this just to get ahead!”

As John roared, a fire engulfed the building they were all once in. Everyone gasped watching it go into flames. John let go of Thomas again to watch this. He rushed to Maggie’s side to hold her close to him. Elspeth stood closest to the fire. Large tears rolled down her face. She turned with a smile painted across her face despite her crying, “At least everyone is okay and we can still do this tomorrow.”

John shook his head, “I don’t think I can allow my family to become attached to yours. Everything my family touches becomes ruin.” His eyes glared at Thomas. He bowed his head at the eldest Finleys and kissed Maggie’s head one last time for the night, “I’m sorry.” He stormed away with Arthur and Finn calling after him.

Maggie cried as she ran into Seumas’ arms. She clung onto her older brother. Seumas looked up at Archibald who had scooped up Lucy to comfort her. Elsie’s twin spoke to his older brother who was now holding Edward’s hand, “Let’s get the younger ones somewhere safe.”

Polly spoke up and said, “Ada and I can take you in. Please. It is the least we can do considering.”

Archibald bowed his head, “Thank you. We shouldn’t be too much of a bother. We should be moving on soon.” The two eldest brothers followed the two Shelby women with their younger siblings clinging onto them.

Elspeth had since turned back to watch the fire. Tears still streaming down her face. Her expression completely stone.

Thomas slowly approached her and spoke sorrowfully, “I promise I had nothing to do with this. I will get to the bottom of it.” His hand traced the exposed part of her arm between her gloves and dress.

Elspeth shook her head and laughed. Her chest ached from laughter. She turned to face him. Her eyes still watering as she laughed. Her fingers ran through her hair. “I know you didn’t do this Thomas,” She smiled through her tears. The woman motioned to the burning building, “I know because I did this. Next time, don’t underestimate me, my leadership, or my Banshees.” She looked back at the fire and spoke again, “We were going to London soon anyway. This was just one minor inconvenience as the expense of dragging you down.” Elspeth turned to follow her family but whispered to him before she left, “You really need to catch up, Mr. Shelby. Keep climbing. I am so far past Kimber. Let’s see if you can do it.”

Thomas knew he should have been angry. He could feel rage wanting to bubble up inside of him, but for some reason, he couldn’t allow it to take over him. She had outsmarted him and he could see on her face the same face of all the soldiers who didn’t come home from France. She was like the rest of them. Still at war. Despite what she told him, He knew she burnt her home for the warmth of it, to feel as if she could calm, be in control of something, and to be free of it. He felt kinship with her once again. His heart aflame. He knew he shouldn’t, but he allowed her to slip from his fingers again. He stood there unable to speak. As he watched her leave, he felt as if this was nothing more than an invitation to play her game. A game of cat and mouse. Next time, he’s going to be the cat and maybe, he could catch her genuinely impressed and enraptured by him just as he was her now.

Elspeth walked away from the man. When the woman was finally alone in the dark wet cobblestone streets, she sobbed. Only when there were no eyes to spy her and possibly report back. The woman took the moment to allow her weakness through. Only when she was alone. She had won, but at what cost. Her dear sister’s happiness? She just ruined potentially true love, for what? To prove something to a man who didn’t even love her nor lived up to her expectations? Yet still, his blue eyes haunted her.

#thomas shelby #thomas angst #thomas shelby x oc #tommy shelby x oc #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #elsie finley x thomas shelby

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fragilevixenfic · 4 years

Note

Please do 46 on the second list "Your lips are so kissable!"

Lets see how this one goes! It gave me a real battle!

Title: I’d rather be oblivious

Category: Humor/Angst/UST/RST/Canon-Divergent/Post Dreamland II

Summary: Scully indulged in a little too much wine and chased her final drink with a shot of whiskey during dinner with her mother—but her mind was on anything but the meal, or the alcohol, as she shows up to Apartment 42.

Prompt: 46. “Your lips are so kissable!”

I just pretend that I'm in the dark I don't regret 'cause my heart can't take a loss I'd rather be so oblivious I'd rather be with you

-Abel Tesfaye/Ahmad Balshe/Max Martin/Oscar Thomas Holter (The Weeknd)

11:00 PM

2630 Hegal Place

Alexandria, VA

“Shouldn’t have worn the heels,” Scully muttered after running both hands through her hair, smoothing it away from her flushed face as she groped for the right button inside of the elevator. “Shouldn’t have had that shot, either but here I am…talking to myself in the elevator.”

Tipsy might’ve been a bit of a reach but she was certainly feeling the alcohol and appreciated the cool breeze against her skin after getting out of the cab. Leaving her mother’s company had been awkward as Scully slid into the back of a cab instead of riding back to the apartment with her. Scully knew that she shouldn’t have indulged beyond the first glass but there was something compelling in it as she nodded at the offering over and over until she was listening to her mother’s weak attempt at naming at least five different eligible bachelors that she wanted to introduce her to. Scully had an entirely different man running through her mind, though, and the wine did little to assist in hiding it.

“Why am I here?” Scully was face-to-face with his apartment door, the metal finish of the numbers staring at her as she fidgeted in her unusually uncomfortable heels, wincing. “Really shouldn’t have worn the heels.”

Scully bit down on her lip and knocked, the echo filling the hall as she attracted the attention of the nosey neighbor across the hall. She glanced over in their direction only to catch an up-and-down stare, judging the length of her skirt as though it were that far off from anything else she’d ever worn before. Scully’s weak smile was met with an icy stare before they retreated into their own premises with the slamming of their front door. Scully sighed silently as she heard the string of profanities from inside of Mulder’s place as he maneuvered around after a resounding thud. Her eyes widened as she heard him cuss about a waterbed before flinging the door open as though he had been expecting anyone but her.

“Oh, hey Scully, I thought you’d be at home watching a movie after having dinner with your mother?” Mulder’s questioning tone matched the wandering eye as he couldn’t help but dip his field of vision to the blush-kissed cleavage peeking out from the top of a tight, teal blouse. “Everything okay?”

“That depends on your definition of the word okay,” Scully moved past him and inhaled a considerable whiff of his body wash as she saw the little droplets still collecting on his neck from wet hair. “Am I interrupting your night? I’m interrupting your night, aren’t I?”

“Scully, how glasses of wine did you drink tonight?” Mulder recognized that intoxicated gaze as one he had caught in his own mirror a time or three as he watched her lean against the counter.

“I had a couple,” Scully furrowed her brows and watched his hand as he pushed the door back into place, listening to the pronounced click of the pin as it gripped before meeting his gaze. “It was the shot of whiskey that might’ve been a bit…much.”

“At least you didn’t say tequila, because, that’s my MO,” Mulder smirked and went to the cupboard, retrieving a glass to fill with water as he watched her lashes flutter just a little bit while she licked her lips. “Am I in trouble or—”

“Did you think I wouldn’t find out about Kersh’s secretary?” Scully cut him off, brazenly squaring him up as she found the gumption to ask him for the first time.

“That was right out of left field,” Mulder’s eyebrows elevated as he took a step back while her gaze narrowed into a glare, the intent building with every breath. “I don’t know what you’re referring to, Scully, and I don’t know what Kersh’s secretary has to do with anything. That woman is a gossip and irritates the ever-loving hell out of me.”

“I’m sure she’s irritating, Mulder, but not enough to persuade you to keep your tongue out of her mouth, right?” Scully lit him up and pushed another button as she narrowed the gap between them, seething with frustration as she pushed a finger to his chest. “Did you hope that I wouldn’t find out or was that something you wanted?”

The glass met the countertop and left Mulder’s grip as he raised a single brow while scrutinizing Scully. Her actions couldn’t have been more perplexing. Her face couldn’t have been more alluring and it was driving him a little crazy as he listened to the interrogation as it poured from her mouth. Scully truly had become an enigma and Mulder had spent far too many nights trying to unfurl the mysteries of her heart without saying a single word or even glancing at her once. It was as though fate had given him a swift slap as the impromptu confrontation was a little more than he’d anticipated at this hour.

“Scully, you can’t be serious with this,” Mulder rolled his eyes, caught somewhere between confusion and irritation at the idea of that particular creature telling people she had been intimate with him in any way, shape, or form. “Why would I do that? Answer me that.”

“I don’t think like you so I couldn’t wager a guess but I do know that it’s absolutely mortifying hearing that your lips are so kissable from a group of women that didn’t realize I was walking through the room,” Scully pressed her lips together and held back the urge to slap him as her comment only earned the rubbing of the bridge of his nose while he chuckled into his palm. “It isn’t funny.”

“I really am in the Twilight Zone and this shit just keeps getting weirder,” Mulder rubbed his eyes and looked at her as she backed up to lean against the archway upright between the dining area and the living room. “Scully, I would hope I’d remember playing tonsil hockey with a blonde if I did something like that but I really don’t. What I’m wondering is why this upset you so much?”

“I’m not upset, Mulder. I just don’t want to be the last one to know that you’re acting like a complete moron with a co-worker who might decide to run around bragging about her exploits,” Scully knew she was lying through her teeth as she stared at the floor, refusing to look at him as he approached. “I don’t want to be known as the partner of the sloppy moron.”

“You’re a lot of things, but a liar isn’t one of them,” Mulder tilted her chin up with his index and heard her inhale sharply as he made eye contact with her. “You can’t just show up here smelling like your mother’s choice in wine and really cheap whiskey and expect me to believe that you’re not upset with the idea that a woman was bragging about me.”

“Mulder, don’t,” Scully swallowed hard and pushed his hand away from her face, lingering a little too long against his wrist as a final wave of intoxication surged through her veins. “It was a mistake coming here.”

Mulder was, undeniably, deflated as his shoulders slumped and his gaze wavered, moving to the spot just above her head on the wall as the air left his lungs. “You put forth all of this energy to come here, read me the riot act about something that I didn’t even do, and now you won’t even say, or do, what you actually want. Cards on the table, Scully.”

“What do you want me to say to you?” Scully’s eyes could’ve pierced a hole through the soul that had already been to hell and back as she studied his face, fixating on those hazel eyes. “That it should’ve been me that could have ample water cooler material over whether or not your bottom lip quivers when you kiss? Or if you’re a little handsier than the average male? Or that the shucking of sunflower seeds with your teeth and tongue definitely paid off?”

Mulder could’ve let her go on but the way her mouth moved and her bottom swelled was driving him mad as he leaned in close and drew a breath from hers as his teeth slid along the center of her bottom lip. The unintended moan that left her lips was sublime and well-earned as heat met an alcohol-laced tongue that was already yearning for him. Mulder guided her to her toes and slipped his hands around her waist as friction met fluidity, haze met clarity, and passion met electricity. He’d memorized the shape of her mouth and imagined his own perched perfectly against it; exploring the curvature until the breaths between them were synchronized and matched. It was everything that he’d ever dreamed of, right down to the feel of her fingers across the back of his neck and into his hair.

“Your lips really are so kissable,” Scully’s breathy utterance invited a grin across his face as his fingers played against the small of her back.

“I was really thinking the combination of wine and whiskey was going to be a turn-off but…I could go for that again,” Mulder licked his lips, tasting her kiss as a laugh reluctantly reverberated from her belly.

“I could say the same for you,” Scully leaned her head back, the tip of her tongue perched between her teeth. “Tequila breath.”

“Guilty as charged.”

Tagging @suitablyaggrieved @thejimmyjabs @rationalcashew @frangipanidownunder @monikafilefan @msrheadcanon @kyouryokusenshi @wtfmulder for the loves

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girlofmanyfandoms · 4 years

Text

The Angel and The Siren

A/n: Based off of anon prompt that I’ll post separately so y’all can see that! Ily anon, that prompt was just *chef’s kiss*. Also I got a lotta stuff to do, so idk if this is good or not (it’s not)-

Word count: 2000

Warnings: idk mate, executive dysfunction kicked in and this happened

Writing taglist: @everyonehasthoughts @imaramennoodle @bookwyrminspiration @holesinmyfalseconfidence @percabetn @an-absolute-travesty @linhamon-roll @holesinmyfalseconfidence @linhamon2 @a-lonely-tatertot @loverofallthingssmart @vibing-in-the-void @clearlykeefitz

Linh dozed off to the side before jolting back to life. Marella shot her a concerned look, but she waved it off to the side. She had to fight through this. Sophie’s lips were moving, but all she heard was the distant calls of the wind mixing with the cries of dawn. Off in the distance, she saw a flareodon glide from the forest to the ocean, it’s beak gracing the water just enough to cause a beautiful rippling effect. Yet still, the colors blended and blended together, the world nothing but a watercolor painting fading away.

“Linh!”

“I’m alive,” she blurted out.

“Yeah, I almost couldn’t tell,” Tam muttered, grunting as he helped her up from her near-fall. “You nearly passed out.”

“I’m fine,” Linh reassured him, putting a great deal of her weight on her brother’s shoulder. “I just... need a breath of fresh air.”

“You should probably head home,” Tam suggested, though it was obvious he was restraining himself. “I’ll update you when I get there.”

Linh had an amused look playing on her face. “Tam, I’ll be alright, I’m just tired. I’ll take a walk and see how I feel, okay?”

“But-”

“I’ll go with her,” Marella offered eagerly. She flushed, and began to correct herself. “Just to make sure she’s safe.”

Linh’s face lit up and she grabbed her hand, grinning from ear to ear. Her guardian angel had arrived. “We’ll be safe!” Marella called before dragging Linh out of the house and down the porch of the vacation home.

They drew closer together, Linh examining Marella’s features in full. Oh, she was an angel alright. Her eyes held a sort of fiery determination that dared anyone to approach her, yet showed the upmost sympathy for those who struggled like her. For those who were weak and beaten down before they were strong and built up. Sunlight cascaded onto her, making her blonde locks swirl through the air like flames from a newly made campfire, warming everyone around her. Like a halo.

Marella blushed and glanced to the side. “Is there something on my face?” Linh shook her head and leaned on her a bit, pulling her into a side hug as they approached the shoreline of the tropical island hideout. “You just have a pretty one.”

Marella scoffed. “You’re talking?”

“Yeah, I am.” Linh waded into the water, letting the tides bring her underwater, just to the point where her face was above water level, hair floating around her like thin sheets of sea foam. She sat up slowly, and started swimming farther from shore, stopping to beckon Marella. Follow me, the gesture called. The beautiful siren waited patiently, a strand of hair in her face with her head at a slight tilt making her look both shy and innocent, and sly but deadly. The angel was entranced, so she kicked off her boots and followed without hesitation.

When Marella got close enough, Linh held her by the waist, ordering the water to surround them like walls. She pulled Marella close and guided her in a sort of slow dance, letting the tides carry them. Linh’s movement were fluid, and Marella followed her lead, trying to focus on mimicking her movements rather than her heart threatening to explode in her chest.

Deep breaths, she thought to herself. She’s just doing this to keep Tam and the others off her back. Linh hummed, resting her forehead on Marella’s shoulder. “I wish there was something we could do about this.”

Marella panicked. She couldn’t have meant what she thought, or rather hoped, she meant. “This meaning...”

She broke their link, bobbing up and down with the waves, gesturing around her in a vague, fragmented manner. “All of this. The Neverseen, the Treaty with the other Intelligent Species, my parents, the matchmaking system. Everything. I didn’t ask for this. I just wanted to live my life, just like everyone else. But now the adults are cowards and force a group of teenagers, two of which were banished from their society for years, to save the world. I just-” She paused, her voice cracking as she looked towards the sky to blink back tears. “I just want to be a kid. Is that too much to ask?”

Even Linh, with her sweet and innocent front, was breaking. She was crushed, and broken, and in pain, and it tore Marella’s heart into pieces. “I’m so sorry. I-if you don’t mind me asking, what was that like? Like, what happened before you got banished?”

“I was a kid,” Linh smiles sadly in reminiscence. “An unhappy one, but a kid nevertheless. But when I got to Exillium... I became a monster.”

“You’re no monster.” Marella frowned. “And didn’t the group say that they feared ‘The Shade’ because he was protecting ‘The Hydrokinetic’?”

She chuckled in response. “That’s what they wanted you to think. The others were scared of Tam, definitely, but not before they were scared of me, and not for the same reason.”

Marella raised her eyebrows, daring to swim a little closer and lean on her a bit. “Care to elaborate?”

“I guess it would help to let something out.” Linh bit her lip in thought. “And... if there’s anyone I would want to tell first, it’d be you.”

She breathed for a moment, her action syncing with the swells of the ocean. “I got banished a week after the floods. We were going to Councillor Terik to see if there was any potential that would ‘save us from our fate.’ Terik said that he wanted us to meet with Quinlin and Livvy first, to view our records and check if we had any medical issues. We also had to go shopping for clothes, makeup, accessories, anything to make the two of us look different, like we were born separately. But since we both manifested relatively young, and we hadn’t gotten into Foxfire yet, we couldn’t control ourselves.”

“And that’s when the flood happened?”

“No,” she laughed. “If it were that simple, we wouldn’t have been banished. No, what happened was a combination of neglect, stress, panic, and misfortune.”

“So...”

“So something wasn’t supposed to be there, and we freaked out, and our powers crashed together and ripped the barrier open even further than it was getting.”

“It was already breaking?” Marella asked.

“It was old,” Linh shrugged, though from the way she was examining her damp clothes for lint, it was clear that the siren had told a white lie. She crossed her arms and looked down, presumably in guilt and shame, though most likely to fight off the wisps of pain and trauma that clung to her with a vengeance, like a ghost of who she once was.

The angel was conflicted, but decided to take up her own strategy. She extended her hand. “Let’s get farther away from here. See what the jungle has to offer.”

Linh hesitantly accepted it, the walls descending slowly, soon at peace with the rest of their surroundings. A pulsing of emotions ran through her, a symphony from a past life. It confused her, but despite the vapor clouding her mind, she was able to make one clear thought.

Her hands fit perfectly in mine. Linh shook her head vigorously to clear it of those irrational ideas. She’d learned the hard way what getting close to someone cost. “What are you thinking then?”

“You said you’re stressed, right? Like you can’t be free?”

She nodded, eyes narrowing.

“Let me show you what freedom looks like.” Marella let Linh guide the two of them to shore, releasing all of the water trapped in their clothes and hair back into the environment. Doing an awkward hop to get her boots back on, she raced into the jungle, using her momentum to launch herself onto the nearest tree, managing to get her arms around the lowest branch. She swung her body up and let one arm hold her, using her other hand to aid her in letting out an ear-piercing summoning whistle.

In a moment, the flareodon that had been circling the island landed on Marella’s arm like a hawk. Marella waved Linh over as it preened. “See? He’s free to go wherever he likes and do whatever he likes when he wants to do it; he’s got no calls of the sea binding him to a workbench and no looming duties of the hearth to dedicate his life to. And what does that make him?”

“A freelancer.”

“Free, Linh. That’s the key word. He’s free. And you will be too. You just have to have faith.”

“I wish I had that.” She sunk down against the tree opposite to hers, fiddling with a ridiculously large leaf that had fallen from a nearby plant. “And maybe there is some for you. But I’m a twin, and a previously banished one at that, and my life will be dictated by some stupid matchmaker trying to match me up with a stupid ‘powerful’ man that I’ll never love!”

The flareodon was startled by the quick escalation of her volume and took off. Marella, however, drew closer. “Is there a reason you know that you’ll never love that man?”

Quit the wishful thinking Marella! But still, her heart held hope.

“It’s based purely off of genetics,” she whispered, her voice betraying her.

“Linh, come on, I know it’s something deeper,” Marella insisted, bringing the girl to her feet. She diverted her eyes, refusing to even look up. “Answer me, please.”

“You know, you’ve got a lot of fire in your soul, Mare,” Linh murmured. “It’s admirable. But I think back and I analyze and there’s not a single thing like that about me. All I do is pretend to be an innocent little girl just to drag people down with me. There’s nothing admirable about that.”

“Hey, no one talks about my Linh like that, got it?”

My Linh? their minds screamed in unison. On one end, Marella’s cringe scorched at the edges of her mind. On the other, Linh was drowning in the overwhelming feeling she never dared to feel. Hope. Yet again, in the distance, she heard the wind throwing itself upon the raging waves. Though they weren’t raging anymore. They were systematically crashing together, a docile beat not so foreign to her combining with the whistling of the tree leaves to form the melody she longed to sing all along. Home. This is it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable-”

Linh tossed her leaf to the side, standing up with newfound confidence. “You didn’t. You don’t have to apologize for anything. In fact, I should thank you.”

Marella laughed nervously. “There’s nothing to thank me for.” She looked around for a change of topic. “It’s getting late, you should head home. Tam said he’d check up on you, he’ll get worried if you’re not there.”

“Tam worries no matter what.” Linh shook it off. “And besides, I don’t want to go home alone. I like... being around you.”

“I like being around you too,” Marella flushed. She glanced to the side and picked up a fallen hibiscus that was still intact, quickly braiding it into Linh’s hair. “There. Now you can have a piece of me wherever you go.”

Linh smiled sweetly, pulling Marella’s collar towards her and pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek. “I think I’d rather have all of you,” she breathed softly, before stepping back and holding her crystal up to the Sun.

“Thanks, babe!” she called, a smirk proving her pride as she stepped into the light.

Marella touched her cheek, in shock from the confession, as goosebumps travelled up her arms. Her other hand frantically searched her pockets for her leaping crystal. Biting her lip, she glanced to the side, having to squint as the sun began its journey to the other side of the world. Surely the crew wouldn’t mind if she slipped away too. Besides, there was something more important. The siren called.

#*bouncing up and down* didja like it?#probably not #but i can dream ☺️#Cade’s writing #kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #marella redek #linh song #tam song #marellinh #linh x marella #linhella

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team-council · 4 years

Text

Title: It’s never getting titled

TW: Character Death, Lightly Grotesque descriptions of wounds, Possible Scuicidle Implications (I didn’t really mean to imply it like that, but I realize it can be read that way and will tag to be safe)

Description: Takes place directly after the council manages to quell the everblaze from book three. Bronte takes some healing salve to Oralie for her shoulder and reflects on Kenric’s death.

Notes: I would scincerely like to thank anyone who bullied me. I haven’t finished a fic in literally ever, meant a lot. This monstrosity is also not proofread and I am sleep deprived so I’m sure it’s absolute garbage near the end but just ignore that. Might clean it up and put it on ao3 later who knows.

An angry grey sky wept dry shudders of ash over each of the miserable, bowed figures that stumbled across the rolling fields stretching beyond and between the crystalline castles scattering Eternalia’s fading outline. The sun was nothing but a sunken stain on the sky, feathery gold light turned a sick shade of pewter as rising smoke choked the warmth from what of it still lingered beyond the horizon. The neon glare of Everblaze could no longer be seen melting crystal and dragging harsh lines of terror down the face of the distant city, but the air still smelled like burning sugar and dizzying sweetness.

With every ragged breath Bronte drew the saccharine sting of the now extinguished fire coated his tongue anew and prompted another fit of coughing to wrack his body. Though the soot that caked his face in thick, dark splotches had long dried his eyes, the muted sting of fresh burns sweltering along his cheeks and arms coaxed tears to blur his staggering vision. He’d long abandoned attempting anything resembling a graceful stride forward, allowing his feet to stumble over each other with every messy attempt he made to not hit the earth. Ignoring the trembling in his knees. Praying mutely that they might give way beneath him. That he might fall and never get have to get up. A fantasy of melding into the cool grass enticed his mind from the fervent protesting of his aching muscles. He imagined idly how the paled blades would curl at the corners of his mouth, cradle his hands and still the weary tremors that weighted his chest. Dazed, he was unable to keep from fancying what it would be to shatter into the dirt. To become ethereal and unknown, sunken beneath a tangled weaving of root where there would be naught to do but unlearn the world. To divorce sorrow and grief. To let the burdens of the many long centuries he’d endured go in passive dismissal.

His thoughts were interrupted as his foot caught the edge of something tough, and when at last he fell it was only to be met with the glassy, calloused embrace of faceted crystal. A dim, concerned muttering of multiple shrill voices hovered above his head, but as the councillor drew to his knees he found in clarity only the gaunt, drawn man staring back at him through the fuzz of a soot-drowned Amaranth stairway. Reminding him. Mocking him. To disappear was not a mercy he deserved.

“Councillor,”

Bronte was forced to respond when the stairs beneath his legs fell away from him, a large pair of hands having drug him up by the shoulders. Well, respond might have been a gracious word for the half-conscious grunt he managed to the goblin bearing his weight in their palms, his eyes not bothering to search the face of the guard, to know whether or not they held his weakness in contempt or pity. It didn’t matter. He couldn’t fathom caring. All that mattered was that there was no attempt to stop him from dragging his reluctant body up the steps, that no hand batted his away from the knob of the door, that the scanner reading the intricacies of his palm managed to make sense of his identity despite how fresh burns and ash might’ve tried and scrub it away. There was no triumph in the silent, inward sliding of the towering doors, no pleasant rush as frigid, bitter air swept the welts tapering down from his forehead. He hardly found himself capable of much but standing at the brink of the darkness that spilled forward into the until living room at his feet.

Lavish furniture sat steeped in shadows deep enough to sink under, curtains drawn to block the pitiful laces of grey-yellow light that might have struggled through had they been parted. Bronte’s own silhouette was absorbed effortlessly into the black, his whole body soon after as he mindlessly stepped forward, doors clicking shut at his back with an echo of finality.

The world was void of sound until the shake of a fragile breath bit the quiet in faint retaliation. Bronte followed the quivering whimper around the barest, ebon outline of a table, managing to discern only a tenebrous jumble of shapes wrapped up in the stifle of self imposed twilight. Whatever discomfort he might have felt at the still sightlessness, it was welcomed compared to the snap that brought light back into the chamber, cutting through the veil of blissful ignorance that had pardoned any necessity to look upon what it had charitably concealed. However selfish it might have seemed, for the smallest instant Bronte thought of turning the lights off again,

“Sit up,”

It felt wrong to speak- especially ask anything of Oralie. Her ringlets- dull and stringy- pulled down in thick tangled over her face as she rigidly drug her back up the arm of the lovesteat she’d curled into, blankets falling limp onto the floor with a meek thud. Bronte simply knelt atop them, his fingers trailing the pockets of his clock for the smooth outline of a familiar metallic tin. Oralie made no sound of pain or acknowledgement as he pulled down the sleeve of her shirt, revealing a thickly wound bandage fastened over her shoulder. The white color had turned yellow, and as the kneeling figure peeled back each layer the room- what of it he could smell above the saturated, sugary smoke bathing his clothes- began to scent of balms and puss, a littering of welts and shrunken skin having festered beneath the dressings. The case in his hands came open with yet another sound Bronte found himself too far away to register, his fingers diving numbly into the salve inside,

“It’s my fault,”

Came a sound like the shifting of a fault line. Bronte traced his fingers over the rim of the burn,

“I couldn’t do anything but watch,”

Cracking like stained glass. Bronte smoothed his thumb across a patch of withered, pink flesh,

“H-he moved so quick,”

He had been avoiding her eyes, her face. And still he found himself caught in both. Her soft features hollowed. Her warm eyes gutted, occupied only by vacancy. Ghosts of the nots. Of the would never bes,

“And I- I jus-just-“

And her anguish came again with vengeance. Came with strength she did not have to spare for tears she did not have to shed. How dare she think she had wept enough. How dare she think she couldn’t hurt any longer. With a long, godless wail it came back to her in waves, thin fingers gripping his shoulders as she curled forward, her whole frame shaking with the labor of forcing from her throat a cry like cracking ice. What little tears she could manage soaked through his cloak,

“And I j-us did no-nothing! I di-didn’t do anything! I jus-just le-let him go! I le-let him d-“

She had been doomed to fail the sentence from the very start, her broken declarations falling to senseless sobs and howls of pain as she rocked her forehead into his shoulder, re-adjusting her grip at his arms every so often as if letting go might send her physically spiraling into whatever pit of grief pulled at her mind, down somewhere she couldn’t be followed,

“It’s not your fault,”

Again. It felt wrong to tell her anything with certainty, even the truth,

“It’s not your fault,”

It came stronger this time. Still a whisper in her ear, but less like a mist and more like a fog,

“It’s not your fault,”

That’s right. It wasn’t her fault. It was his,

“You couldn’t have known,”

But he had.

“There wasn’t a way you could’ve known,”

He’d known everything. That the healing was dangerous. That he should’ve gone with them.

“You did everything right...”

It was his fault that they hadn’t listened,

“I promise,”

That Kenric hadn’t listened,

“You were everything he needed you to be,”

Why should he have? He had been impatient. Stubborn. Cruel. /Weak/.

“You’ve been so strong,”

For the past three years his judgement had been ruled by fear. Fear of a little girl,

“And so brave,”

And hatred. Hatred of species who’s betrayal’d dawned the advent of millenniums lifetimes ago,

“This could never have been your fault,”

Kenric was dead,

“It will never be your fault,”

Because he hadn’t been stronger,

“No matter what you might think,”

Because he hadn’t been wiser,

“Kenric wouldn’t want you to think that,”

Because he hadn’t been kinder.

“Ever,”

Her wailing had only gotten softer, grip having loosened the slightest bit. He couldn’t tell if anything he’d said had reached her or not. Had he even been speaking aloud to begin with? Had he even been loud enough for it to matter? He had to hope so. Their ilk was not meant to die, and thus not meant to grieve death. To mourn in earnest was not theirs. It never was. He knew too well how easily it would be for her to break beneath the weight of it. He could already feel himself webbing with cracks,

“I-I....”

She couldn’t protest beyond a dry heave, her shoulders raised for what felt like ever in a deep wrenching motion as Bronte clasped the fresh bandages over her newly dressed wounds. In the end, she merely fell into him, grabbing his shirt. His arms. His cloak. Anything she could to prove to herself she was still there with him. Every new hold she had on him felt like another clutch of guilt bearing at his knotted stomach. The morphine drip of shell shock had begun to fade and chip away. Clawed to pieces by the daggers of sharp mourning that broke his haze with every whimper Oralie managed into his shoulder. He knew even in the pathetic state he was in he couldn’t outrun his guilt forever. But he’d been hoping that he might for a bit longer. Selfish as it was,

“Oralie...”

He whispered after a moment. And was met with quiet. Quiet and trembling breaths. She’d become heavy against him, her grip gone slack, eyes finally falling to tearless rest. Good. He hadn’t been sure what he was going to say anyways. The lights echoed out again with another dry snapping sound and Bronte stood from the thicket of blankets at his ankles, propping Oralie’s head on a pillow before draping her in covers again, still hoping- desperately and undeservedly- that she had believed him.

He paced the length between his and Oralie’s office with more grace this time, aware now of what the lull to fall and fade and become nothing but memory was in truth.

Not escape from sorrow or grief, but from consequence.

Consequence for the person he’d become. For that he’d done to others... There would be no reckoning with Councillor Kenric. He was dead. No apologies or tears- though he would certainly be giving both in abundance regardless- would change that.

But Oralie wasn’t dead.

The rest of the council wasn’t dead.

Sophie wasn’t dead.

He wasn’t dead.

And to that end there were still plenty of consequences to face.

#TW #TW Suicidal thoughts #TW gore #TW death #keeper of the lost cities #angst fic #kotlc council #councillor bronte #councillor Oralie #councillor kenric #so much angst #no beta we die like Kenric

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jennygirl2014 · 4 years

Text

One Way Ticket-Part 2

Wrote this 2 part fic for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor and her writing challenge. My prompts were airplane + choking. This is a dark fic, with elements of CNC. Heed the warnings: NC-17, sexual content, CNC, choking, drugging, kidnapping. Hydra Steve Rogers. If you’re not cool with it do not proceed. I’m serious.

Your body was rocking gently, perhaps you had fallen asleep in the hammock you had been laying in. The breeze off of the ocean had likely rocked you to sleep. Peaceful, tranquil silence and slumber were starting to leave you. But everything was dark. Why was everything so dark? Your head was throbbing, your throat was dry. But it was the darkness that bothered you. And then you realized you weren’t rocking gently in the breeze; your head was just spinning. Something was wrong. And as if someone had fired a gun next to your aching head, it all came back to you.

The thud of your body hitting the floor brought you back to consciousness. The air left your lungs in one giant puff and you coughed while trying to fight your eyes open. There was a terrible taste in your mouth. Your arms and legs couldn’t move, and then you realized there was rope around you.

The plane. The passengers. The stranger. The hijacking. It all came back to you.

Your eyes flew open and you looked around, seeing that you were back in the plane, where you were before you drifted off. You panicked and started to fidget, trying to free your arms and legs.

“Stop squirming.” A cool somber voice grabbed your attention. Your eyes landed on a pair of legs just a couple feet away from your head. The man, the stranger, was sitting on the floor, going through what looked like your carryon bag. And what you thought was a stranger, now looked to be someone you had met before.

“Captain Rogers…” your voice was still weak, “Is it?”

“You finally figured it out.” He continued to rummage through your bag, not even looking at you. In your defense, you had only seen him in person once or twice. But this made absolutely no sense. Why would Captain America hijack a plane? And who were those other men? You had to know the answers, now.

“What the hell is going on here?” you demanded. “Why aren’t you helping the civilians?”

“Because I’m not here to help them. I’m here to take them.” He spoke so calmly.

“Take them where? Where are we going?!” your voice grew louder.

“I thought you looked familiar.” His voice hid a certain amusement, and he smiled as he held up your driver’s license. “Becky, huh?” he started to go through your wallet more, and then he pulled out the card he was looking for, the one you kept hidden. “Bingo,” he presented it to you, as if you didn’t know what he had found, “Agent Y/N… retired agent of SHIELD.” It was merely for sentimental reasons that you held onto your old identification card, it held memories and pride of what you once were. Before the collapse of SHIELD, you were one of their finest. You were one of the few with the pleasure of working with Steve Rogers. Until now. He chuckled and put the card back in your wallet. “Why hold onto that? To take trips down memory lane?” he taunted.

“Why are you doing this? This isn’t SHIELD…”

“You’re right, this isn’t SHIELD business.” He closed your carryon and looked you dead in the face. “It’s Hydra’s.” You shivered when his words hit your ears. It couldn’t be.

“Captain Rogers… this isn’t you….you’re not a part of them.”

“Actually, I am.” His words were heartbreaking. You went silent, out of fear, out of doubt, out of astonishment. You saw what this man did for his country. Why would he change sides? The questions kept buzzing in your head. “Sanders!” he called out to someone, and a man with a gun quickly approached. “Her name is Y/N… see if you can access the cargo hold and bring up her suitcase.”

“Yes Captain.” The man hurried away.

“What are you doing?” you asked more questions.

“That is something you don’t need to know.” Steve refused to respond.

“I’m a US air marshal.”

“Yeah, a terrible one.”

“Let these people go.”

“Can’t. We have plans for these people. But I haven’t quite decided what to do with you yet.” His eyes locked onto you with a sinister gaze.

“These are innocent people. The people you used to fight for. Don’t do this.” You tried to reason with him, but he only smirked and shook his head.

“You know, if anybody was going to save them… if anybody was capable… it would have been you.” He mockingly pointed a finger. “Air marshal, ex SHIELD agent… you’re trained on how to deal with hijackers and Hydra.” He tutted you and he shook his head. “Too bad you had to have a drink. This all might have gone very differently if you had just done your job.”

His words hurt, deep. He was right. You were their only hope, the only real savior those passengers had, and you failed. Your lungs and heart ached from the truth. Those people could be good as dead if you didn’t think of something, and think fast. You did not want their deaths on your hands, on your conscious for the rest of your miserable life. You were too good an agent to let anything like this happen. Yet it already had. Your self-loathing was interrupted when the henchman came back with your suitcase and dropped it in front of you. Steve thanked the man as he walked off.

“Let’s see what you’ve got in here.” Steve unzipped the suitcase and adjusted his seat on the floor to a kneeling position. You were sure he was looking for weapons, or any means of communication. The very items you had been thinking about in the back of your mind. It was like he was a step ahead of you. He moved clothes around, pulled out bottles of soap and shampoo, and then he held up the skimpy monokini you had bought specifically for the trip. “Shame you won’t get to wear this.” He chuckled to himself as he tossed it to the side.

“Where are you taking us?” you realized you had no idea where you were headed.

“I don’t have to share that with you. But I will say this, it’s not the tropics.” He offered very little if nothing of an explanation. You shifted your body enough to sit up and lean against the back wall. He eyed you carefully. “Don’t get too comfortable.”

“What, are you going to throw me off the plane?” you challenged him.

“I haven’t decided yet. Could be fun.” He challenged you right back. Your eyes landed on the passengers gathered at the front of the plane. You tried to count them, but it was hard from where you were sitting. And then you saw it, the crimson colored liquid on the floor in the front, and your own blood ran cold.

“How many did you kill?” you forced the words out past your dry lips.

“Only one.” Steve answered as if that person’s life meant nothing. And maybe it did mean nothing to him. The realization shook you. You lost someone. Steve’s face turned back to you slowly, as if he was trying to read you. “And if you make yourself an issue, we’ll make it more.” This was a man of command; he knew what you would do. If it was your life versus theirs, you would be willing to cooperate or lay yourself down on the line. You turned back to him a sneered.

“What happened to you?” he ignored your question and kept going through your things. “You used to be a good man. A hero. When did you become Hydra scum?”

“Keep testing me.”

“I’m not afraid of you.”

“Maybe you should be.” He warned. And then he broke out into a hearty laughter, and it startled you. You wondered what was so funny. He held up a rather intimate item of yours, sporting his find for you to see. Your bright pink vibrator was there in his hand, exposed and in the open. He waved it around jokingly, giving himself a good laugh as your cheeks turned red. “Party girl, huh?” he teased as he clicked it on, and you heard it buzzing. “I’m surprised you got through security with this. Then again, maybe being an air marshal has its perks.” He clicked it off and tossed it back in the bag. “Hawaii, drinks, skimpy bathing suit, vibrator…” he turned back to you with a curious look, “Let me guess, bad break up?”

“Fuck you.” You spit.

“Don’t say it unless you mean it, doll.” He went back to work. “And look what I’ve found.” He held up your communicator from when you were a SHIELD agent. At first glance it would appear you held onto it for nostalgic reasons, but you knew if you hit that button, someone would answer. And apparently so did he. “Once an agent, always an agent.” He smiled as he cracked open the little plastic device. He pulled a couple wires and eventually pulled out the tiny chip inside before dropping it to the floor and crushing it under his foot. You swallowed the lump in your throat.

“Satisfied?” you hissed in his direction.

“Not yet.” He retorted as he pulled out your laptop.

“Oh, come on!” you protested. “That wasn’t cheap you know! And why destroy it if you’re going to kill me anyway?” He shot you a look, and you drew quiet as the wheels started turning in your head. “Maybe you haven’t decided what you’re going to do with me…but what are you going to do with them?” you nodded towards the innocent civilians.

“Some will be recruited, others won’t be.”

“You’d kill innocent people?”

“If they refuse.”

“I don’t believe you.” Your words came out like venom.

As if on cue, there was commotion from the front of the plane, directing both your attention and his. The hijackers rushed over to grab one of the men who was attempting to free the other passengers. They grabbed him and threw him to the floor. “Excuse me.” Steve stood up and went to walk away, but not before dropping your laptop to the floor and stomping on it. You would have winced at the crunching sound from under his feet, but you were too preoccupied with the safety of the passengers. You looked on in horror as the man was hit in the face with the butt of someone’s rifle, and then they started kicking him mercilessly. You had to do something. It was your job to protect these people.

“STOP!” you shouted at the top of your lungs from where you sat. But your voice barely carried over the hysteria. “Don’t kill him!” Steve still approached, and you had to think of something. “KILL ME! Kill me instead, just leave him alone!” Steve stopped in his tracks and turned back to you; he must have heard you. He raised a hand to stop his henchmen, and they obeyed. His eyes burned into you, making you question yourself and the words that had slipped from your mouth.

“You would die for these people?” he quizzed you. You gulped before answering, mustering what could have been faulty courage.

“I’ll do anything I have to…to keep them safe.” Your voice may have shaken a little.

“You didn’t answer me.” He quickly advanced towards you again. You stayed silent where you sat, counting his footsteps until he was kneeling down in front of you again. You did your best to hide the panic that was building. “I asked you a question…agent.”

“I’ll do whatever I have to do.” You finally found words, just loud enough for him to hear.

“Choose your words wisely.” He warned as he raised a finger in your face. “Now…answer the question.” His tone shook you. You wanted to fight him, to fight back, to spit something terrible in his face, but you were quiet. Your heart was threatening to break out of your chest as he eyed you. “I see the fear behind those eyes.” He spoke softly, but his tone stayed the same. “You’ve got guts, I can admire that. But you’re not about to give your life for these people. People you don’t even know.”

“You used to do it.” The bitterness came out so naturally, and it temporarily granted you more courage, so you continued, “I guess someone here has to be what you can’t.”

Your glare met his. The heat from his eyes was equally matched with yours. You were convinced that there was nothing else he could say to scare you, and you had taken the wind out of his sails. At first, he was silent, maybe stunned, maybe disappointed that he didn’t win that little exchange. You thought that was the end of it, until his hands swiftly moved to his belt buckle. You looked at his face, which held a cool smirk, and then at the people behind him, who were all busy looking back at you. You read their faces, the passengers looking horrified, the henchmen looking entertained, but then you were distracted when his belt looped around your neck. He pulled up on the excess of his belt, making the loop go tight around you neck, and you gasped on what little air you could before he cut off your supply. “On your feet.” He demanded, still pulling up. Your head was forced up, and the pain and lack of oxygen sent adrenaline rushing through your body. “I said on your feet, agent!” he yanked, and somehow you found the strength to lurch forward onto your knees. It took you a minute to establish your footing while your legs were bound, but Steve pulling up on your noose aided you.

You only had a second to catch your breath before he dipped down and swiftly picked you up by wrapping his arms around your hips, and then he threw you over his shoulder with ease. Your head was spinning, both from his swiftness and still trying to catch your breath. The faces of the concerned passengers were the last thing you saw before he carried you into the tiny bathroom and spun to slam shut the door. The last time you were in that small lavatory, you thought you were going to get sick, but now you thought you were going in there to die. Why did you have to let your attitude and your lip get the best of you? Who would help those innocent people now? Steve set you down roughly and spun you to face the mirror, to face your fate.

Your face was flushed and glistening with sweat, your hair was a frizzy mess and that belt around your neck sat loose enough for you to see the mark it had left when he pulled you up. And behind you, he stood with all the power and authority you were lacking. With your hands and legs bound, and that leather around your neck, you had no control. “Tell me you’re not afraid to die for them.” His voice fell onto your pounding ears and all you could do was pant. “I know you’re not prepared to. But that doesn’t mean you’re not afraid to do anything else to spare them.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a large knife, he spun it around, making the metal glint in the reflection of the mirror. Your entire body ran cold. “Hydra has no need for someone like you.” The knife vanished behind you and you held your breath, waiting for the sharp pain without the visual warning, but it didn’t come. Instead, you heard the sound of the knife cutting through fabric. You shuttered and puffed out the air you were holding, soon realizing he was cutting through the back of your jeans. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t.” he gripped the fabric and ripped it wide open, exposing your flesh.

“No!” you half yelled, still feeling out of breath. The knife was at your throat in a second, pressing against your skin to the point where you were afraid to breathe.

“Scream, and I will kill every last one of those passengers.” He put his lips to your ear and you felt his hot breath on your sensitive skin. You felt your bottom lip beginning to tremble. “Now I’m offering you a trade.” His voice took on a more soothing tone. “I’ll spare them…” his free hand roughly gripped your ass, his fingers digging into your left cheek, “For a little of this. I think that’s more than fair.” His eyes met yours in the reflection, and you realized the position you were in. He had all the power, all of the control, and you had none. You hated how pathetic you looked, how helpless you felt, but you were still more concerned about the lives of those innocent people still on the plane. You already lost one person, and as far as you were concerned, that was blood on your hands, could you let the others die? It was your responsibility to keep them safe, and you had already failed. “Deal?”

You had to force the answer past your lips. “Yes.”

He pulled the knife away from your jugular and stepped back behind you, and as you felt him cut the fabric of your thong, the last remaining fabric covering your most intimate places, you wondered what you were getting yourself into. You diverted your eyes from your reflection, choosing to keep your focus on the faucet inches from your face, to avoid watching your humiliation unfold. His hands brushed against you as he fumbled with his fly, and your breath hitched in your throat. The soft and firm head of his cock brushed against your slit and you stiffened up. He sensed this and reached his hand down between your legs, pushing his fingers through your lips until he found your clit. “You’re not ready for me, darling.” He made a comment regarding your lack of arousal. His fingers worked your clit back and forth, applying enough pressure to make you squirm and clench your thighs together. A pathetic whimper involuntarily left your throat, and you heard him chuckle.

His fingers ceased on your now tingling bud and he drew them back through your fresh wetness. He hummed with satisfaction as he drew his hand away and gave you a quick slap on your right cheek. You felt him line himself up with your opening and braced yourself for what was coming. Slowly he eased his tip inside of you, and you already felt your insides stretching. Your jaw clenched and you winced as you felt him push in even further, damn he was thick. Another pathetic sound escaped you when he pushed in another inch, the stretching causing a pain you hadn’t felt in a while, it was almost like being a virgin again. He slammed both hands on either side of you on the counter and leaned his hips in more, stuffing his length deeper inside of you. You wondered how on earth there could still be more of him to take. His hips met yours as he bottomed out, the thick head of his cock pressing painfully against your cervix. “Shit, you’re tight.” He growled, you could see him gritting his teeth in his reflection, his jawline dimpling. He pulled out only an inch, and pushed back in without any courtesy.

That was only the beginning of what was in store for you. It only took him a moment to set a steady pace, his shallow thrusts got deeper, punishing you and reminding you who had all the control. Your body jostled with every hit of his hip, almost knocking all of the air from your lungs. You wanted to be quiet, to hide your humiliation from everyone else, but the force he was using on you pushed the sounds right out of you. A clanking sound came from his belt buckle hitting the porcelain on the sink as it hung low and loose from around your neck. You clenched your bound fists helplessly, wishing you had something to grip onto to steady yourself. His assault didn’t slow, he would withdraw from you, leaving you almost empty, and with a quick snap of his hips he filled you again. “Don’t act like you’re not enjoying this, doll.” He grunted at you, his voice only shaking slightly from the movement in his hips.

“You son of a bitch!” Your voice carried louder than you expected, bouncing off of the walls and echoing in the small space. He wasn’t about to let your insolence go unpunished, and he swiftly grabbed the excess of his belt and pulled it taught. The leather squeezed against your skin, constricting your airways once again. You squeaked as the last bit of air escaped you.

“You don’t have to talk for me to enjoy this.” He expertly wrapped the leather around his fist, “In fact, you don’t even have to breathe.” He taunted, tugging even more.

The panic was hitting you in full effect now, adrenaline coursed through your veins as oxygen left you. Your sensed were dialed up to 11 as your body went limp, you became a ragdoll for him to play with. He impaled you, over and over again, using your body for his own selfish gain. The repeating emptiness and fullness was too much to handle. Steve grunted and moaned behind you, using his other hand to grip onto your hip, bruising your skin just as the belt was. Small sounds still escaped you, squeaking and mewls slipping past the leather vice around your neck. This only spurred him on more, making his animalistic sounds grow louder. Maybe the passengers didn’t hear you, but they definitely heard him, which was embarrassing enough. He took no issue with everyone else knowing how much he was enjoying himself. This was all about him, there would be no enjoyment in this for you. Or so you thought.

Maybe being bent over that sink in that tiny bathroom and being choked while the super soldier was rawing you to death wasn’t killing you as much as it was thrilling you. A familiar heat and tightness started to coil inside of you. The belt loosened momentarily, allowing you to gulp in what air you could before it went tight again. “I think you’re enjoying this more than you’d like to admit.” His voice carried over the noise and hit your ears. “The way your pussy is milking my cock, I’d think you’re about to come.” He taunted you more. “Go ahead, I’ll be nice.” He loosened the belt again and you puffed out all the air in your lungs before drawing in another deep breath. He tightened the belt again, making your head spin. That wasn’t what he was looking for. You felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, how was this even possible? Your eyes started to roll back in your air deprived skull. Your lungs started burning and you swear you saw stars. “Do it. Come.” He commanded you.

It was the last thing you needed. Despite not getting enough air, that coil inside you snapped and your body started to tremble with the waves of your orgasm. Small grunts and whimpers slipped through your throat, although Steve didn’t let up on that belt. He never skipped a beat either, penetrating you with just as much force as your pussy spasmed and greedily gripped onto him. Your tight, slippery cunt quivering around him pushed him over the edge, and he snapped his hips into yours as he grunted. His grip on the belt eased and you found air again, gasping in and releasing that air in a long pathetic whine that may have sounded more like a moan. The heat of his cum being spilled into you hit your senses just as they started to find you again. A cry escaped you against your will, the shock and embarrassment slapping you in the face.

He finished riding out his orgasm from deep inside your twat, and his hands moved up to your shoulders to grip you and pull you closer to him while he leaned down to reach your ear. “I think I’ll keep you.” He panted deep into your ear, giving you goosebumps. Your eyes landed on your reflection, your sight was still blurry but you couldn’t ignore the redness in your face, or the tears that had managed to slip down your face. You weren’t sure if the tears were from being choked, being humiliated, or from surviving one of the biggest orgasms of your life. Just to rub it in even more, Steve ran his hot tongue along your cheek, tasting one of your lost tears. He finally pulled his cock out of you, and you winced from the pain. You were sure the pain would be lingering for quite some time, but the pain of your broken will would last longer.

Your legs were like jelly, and you sank down onto the floor. Steve tucked himself back into his pants, standing over you and looking down at you like a cat admiring its wounded pray. You couldn’t bare to look him in the face, not with the mark around your neck and his cum leaking from you. Once he zipped his fly, he ran a quick hand through his hair and turned to walk out of the bathroom, slamming the door shut again once he left, leaving you there to wallow in your own humiliation. You stayed very still, wondering what was going to come next, for you, for the passengers. If you saved those innocent people out there, it was worth it, even if you started to feel like an empty shell. And yet you still wondered what had happened, how he had coaxed that feeling and those sounds right out of you. You would never admit it to yourself, or to anyone, but that might have possibly been the ride of your life. Afterall, only a few hours before, he was a hot stranger you were hoping to get a piece of on the beach.

#captain america fanfiction #steve roger fanfiction #hydra steve rogers #hydra captain america #hydra steve rogers fanfic #dark fic #writing challenge

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going-dead · 5 years

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What if..?

Hey back from months of making zero DP content, hyper fixation is back and here for a while. So here’s my entry for Danny phantom angst day as well as Ectober day 1 prompt: What if? (list by @fruitloopghost ) I wrote this in one sitting instead of doing something productive like homework so sorry for any errors, I’ll comb through and edit when I have time. Click the read more to read it.

What if they hate him, try to capture him, or just shoot him? What if he gets thrown out, allowed to live but not around them. That would somehow be worse Danny figured. “Well are you going to say anything?” Danny asked, staring at his parents. He would settle for anything talking, questions, yelling, any type of reaction just not silence. Transformation rings split once more leaving a dark haired boy in their wake. Jazz was nervously looking between their parents. Danny didn’t know what she was nervous about, it was his half-life at stake.

Maddie’s hands were shaking as she lifted them as if to ward off her son. Her face steeled. “No. Jazz take Danny upstairs and make sure he gets to his room. Your father and I are going to work this out, we will solve this Danny don’t worry. You’ll be rid of Phantom soon”

Danny’s face twisted in a mixture of hurt and confusion. “But there’s nothing to get rid of? I’m me still, kinda human still, I just have a bit extra tacked on. But that bit is still me, Phantom is me as much as I am Phantom. It’s not a ‘we’ scenario it’s me.” He tried to explain, turning his hand invisible as if to prove a point. He looked to his father pleadingly who had yet to speak up,

“It will be okay Danny, but we’re scientists. We observe the world with facts. And the fact is that we just found out our son as you put it is ‘half ghost’. This is an unknown and we are going to have to be wary until have the facts.” Jack gave a smile, but it was obviously forced. The man smiles so much it’s easy to tell when it isn’t genuine. He gave Jazz and Danny a shooing motion. Leaving no room for argument as he and Maddie descended into the lab with hushed argument.

Jazz rested her hand on Danny’s shoulder, a gesture of comfort, and led Danny upstairs. “Don’t look so glum Danny. Look on the bright side, they didn’t shoot you or try to take you into the lab!” They stopped outside his bedroom door.

“Honestly I’d rather have them try to attack me, at least that way I’d know how they felt about all of this.” He shrugged. Just because they were tolerant of him at the moment didn’t mean that their attitude won't change at any moment. He didn’t have to alert Jazz of that though she had enough worries.

“I’m sure they just need some time, they’ll see that your ghostly half doesn’t make them any less their son.” She gave him a hug before going to her own room. They had school tomorrow, it would give their parents time to adjust by themselves.

Danny gave a weak smile before retreating into his own room. He fell face first onto his bed and hugged his pillow. No matter the end outcome of this his relationship with his parents would never be the same as before. He let his thoughts fade as he drifted into sleep.

Danny didn’t wake up strapped to a lab table or connected to a bunch of instruments, so that was a plus. Did normal teens have to worry about that? Probably not Danny mused. He threw on some clothes and headed downstairs for breakfast. He was surprised to see the table set and filled with food. His brows knitted in confusion, usually he would have to make himself breakfast, his parents still asleep or already down in the lab. Jazz would cook occasionally if she woke up a bit earlier but nothing like this.

Jazz herself came down a few seconds later, confusion evident on her face as well. The question of who was answered shortly after when Jack and Maddie stepped into the kitchen. “Ah good you’re both up. I was starting to worry you wouldn’t have time to eat. Your father and I decided it was time we had a family breakfast for once.” Maddie smiled clapping her hands together.

Danny and Jazz looked at each other in suspicion, but sat down all the same. Food was loaded onto everyone's plates, everyone except Danny started to eat. He poked his pancake with his fork, as if he expected it to explode. Jack was already halfway done with his food when he noticed Danny’s plate was still full. “Come on Danny-bo… Danny, the pancakes aren’t going to bite you.”

“Biting isn't what I’m worried about.” He mumbled, though food trying to eat the Fenton family members wasn’t unheard of, ecto-radiation was no joke. All the same he slowly took a bite of his food. He waited a few seconds, not passed out or hunched over in pain, he shrugged and continued to eat. That wasn’t to say he was comfortable, the moment the food passed his lips his parents seemed to watch his every move, studying him. He suddenly felt like an animal in the wild being observed by researchers.

Not soon enough it was time for Danny and Jazz to head to school. Jack had already excused himself, Danny not sure to as where he went. He shouldered his bag walking with Jazz towards the front door. “Bye mom, I love you.” He called over his shoulder.

“Goodbye Danny.” Danny pretended it didn’t hurt when she didn’t say I love you back, she always said I love you back. But it was fine, teenagers aren’t supposed to tell their parents they love them anyway. Right? It didn’t matter, he had to get to school. At least that way he wouldn’t have to see the disappointment in his parents eyes everytime they looked at him. At least his teachers had a reason to look at him in disappointment.

School was uneventful, other than Sam and Tucker being relieved to see him okay. He was pretty sure the whole school could feel how nervous he was as the school day drew to an end. He didn’t want to go back home and have his parents treat him like something other. His teachers didn’t call him out when he fell asleep in class, even Dash stayed away from him that day. It wasn’t until he was in the car with Jazz did he figure out why.

“Um Danny are you okay?” His sister asked almost warily.

“You mean other than the fact that our parents could turn on me at any second? Just peachy.” Danny snapped. He was surprised to see Jazz almost flinch.

“Can you tone whatever you’re doing down a bit? I’d rather not get frostbite and feel an overwhelming sense of terror driving. It’s just not safe. You can talk to me you know that right?”

Tone it down…? He looked down at his hands and saw his ghostly aura flicker around him, much brighter and far reaching than usual. And while the green and blue mixture was pretty to look at, that isn’t the case if a human comes in contact with it. Of course they can’t see it, but they sure as hell can feel something wrong. He flinched. “Oops sorry Jazz, didn’t even notice I was doing it. It’s probably just because of nerves. I really don’t need to figure out a random new power while mom and dad are watching my every move.”

Jazz nodded her head in agreement. Shaking the effects of Danny’s aura off her she pulled out of the school parking lot. “If you want, I can spend the day with you. That way you don’t have to be alone in a room with mom and dad.” She offered glancing at Danny out of the corner of her eye.

“Yeah that’d probably help.” Danny answered. Secretly relieved and happy she offered. When they entered the driveway he took a deep breath, scaring his parents with his aura or ‘scary eyes’ would not help his situation.

Entering the house his parents voices immediately called out from the lab “Danny? Could you come down here for a second?” Danny shot a panicked look at Jazz. She motioned for him to breathe, grabbed his hand and walked slowly down the stairs and into the lab.

Jack looked up hearing footsteps descending down the stairs. “Oh hey Jazzy-pants, you don’t need to be down here. Just going to confirm some things with Danny.” Seeing Jazz’s glare he quickly backpedaled. “Not saying you have to leave though! More the merrier right hun?”

“Of course dear. No need to look so worried Danny, we’re your parents we wouldn’t ever hurt you intentionally.” Maddie walked over to her kids. “Nothing bad, we just need a few samples. Hair, saliva, vitals those sort of things. Only blood if you allow it of course.”

Danny shifted on his feet uncomfortably, he couldn’t really say no now could he. Plus he was a bit curious about what they’d find. They led him to the chair near the computer and sat him down. Jack grabbed the hair, saliva, and blood samples, with Danny’s consent. While Maddie started on taking his vitals. “So what we were thinking was: What if we could find out what is causing your ghostly abilities. Could we remove them? Make you normal again?”

Danny was about to speak up about being ‘normal’ but Jack interrupted. “Maddie come look at this!” He was leaning over a microscope. Danny took off the blood pressure cuff and followed his mom over to where his father was. Jazz was on her phone looking up occasionally to make sure Danny was fine. “It’s incredible, I haven’t put it through the scanner yet but I’d bet my fudge that is ectoplasm mixed in with his normal red blood cells. There that word was again normal. What if Danny didn’t want to be normal.

Maddie took the samples and carefully put them into the scanner. She tapped her foot waiting for it to finish. She jumped to attention when the results showed up on screen. “DNA...blah blah blah...fifty percent… Oh no.” Maddie staggered away from the machine, looking absolutely crushed. “Oh Jack!” She pulled her husband into a hug. “There’s ectoplasm directly entangled with his DNA, we can’t fix him. Our boy Jack, he’s never going to be the same baby boy we held in our arms.”

Danny looked at his parents, not in fear or anger, no it was in defeat. “Does that really change the fundamental aspects of who I am? I’m still me still Danny, i’m still a teenage boy who sleeps in class and likes video games. I’m not a broken toy you can just throw out because I'm no longer what you want. I’m your son! You’re supposed to love me and accept me for who I am unconditionally.”

Maddie looked at Danny confused. “Of course we still love you. This is just a hard thing to accept, it’d be one thing if it were something like you and Tucker decided to date, we would support you fully. But you have to understand this from our perspective. We found out that our son who we’ve cared for since he was born, is part ghost.”

Danny shook his head. “I understand just fine. I’m the one who had to come to terms that I pretty much died. That I was the only one actually qualified to fight ghosts without obliterating them. I’m the one who had to figure out ghost powers while still going to school, alone except for Sam and Tucker. I’m the one who had to stitch wounds closed and hide the pain of broken bones, that thankfully only lasted a few days. Injuries I got trying to save people all while the government, my classmate, and my own parents tried to kill or tourture me. But no, you're right, finding out your son happens to be different, that has to be so much harder.” He gave a dry laugh. “I’m going to my room. I can figure dinner out myself. Come get me when you’re done mourning, not all that or that you’re the reason I’m like this in the first place, but a son who is still here.”

#ectober #ectober day 1 #danny phantom #My fic #Danny Phantom angst day #fanfiction #ectober 2019

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thesickpanda · 4 years

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See you on the other side

Note: I have never talked much about my family on this blog for fear they might see it. But I am no longer afraid of how they will react if they do see it. Bring it. I have some things to say about how psychological and emotional abuse is normalized in families, especially towards firstborn daughters, so here it bloody well is.

I come from an extremely dysfunctional family. It is dysfunctional on both sides and I feel truly alien to everybody in that family network. The only exceptions were my late father, late grandmother and one cousin. And even then, there were aspects of my dad and Gran that seemed totally bizarre to me, such as their inability to talk about difficult issues or face their inner demons. That is something I've had to do alone all my life.

When my father died unexpectedly nine years ago, the dysfunction was really obvious. My severely mentally ill mother had a complete nervous breakdown and it fell to me to take care of her while single-handedly organising a funeral from another continent. My sister locked down and turned to her friends rather than me, her battle-weary sibling, as she typically does. I received no support there. My entire extended family found my father's death an inconvenience. My dad's girlfriend had to intervene before his brother had cremated him without a funeral and without even letting us know he had passed away. (My father died in his home country). It was only after my dad's friend alerted his girlfriend that she was able to put a stop to it and give me the opportunity to give my dad a proper funeral. It was no secret in the family that I was extremely close to my father and loved him very, very much. But I received absolutely no emotional support from anybody. Even my cousin couldn't understand why I wouldn't attend her wedding the day after my father's funeral. Because I was upset? Because I had just lost the person I loved most in the world? Hello?

Apart from the enormous toll that took on chronically ill me to organise dad's funeral with a 15 hour time difference, the mental toll was truly unbearable. I didn't want to be alone in this loss but that's where I found myself. My mother was wracked with guilt and couldn't face herself and my sister shut down and didn't want to talk about any of it. Shortly after I returned from my father's funeral, my partner's family cut all ties with me because they found out we were dating and didn't approve of me, being a non-Catholic and not Italian. They didn't speak to me for eight months. So my own family were not speaking to me or reaching out to me (I didn’t get so much as a text message from any of my cousins or even a card from any of my aunts and uncles) and my partner's family had made it very clear that I wasn't what they wanted for their son. So I tried to reach out to some of my friends. What a shock to the system that turned out to be. The friends I thought would be there for me weren’t and the friends that I didn't expect that from offered some words of comfort. But those friends were scattered around the globe. I had only recently moved to Australia and didn't know anybody apart from my partner so he was the only person I could talk to. I appreciated that, but I really wanted to talk to somebody who knew my father (unfortunately, my partner and dad didn’t know each other well) so I reached out to my father's friends. They all shut me down saying it was too painful to talk about the man. So then I reached out to my partner's girlfriend, who was much hated by my family for making a play for his will. I cannot emphasize enough how little I cared about the money. Money could not buy me comfort or solace or a salve to my grief, only compassion and communication could do that. And she was more than willing to offer that. Because she was the only person I could talk to about my father I leaned very heavily on her up until 2 years later when she drew the line and said that she needed to move on with her life and could no longer speak about it. I respect that, it was never really her responsibility, but she was all I had.

Just before that happened, I visited the UK to see my family. They were totally disinterested in my visit. There was no fanfare around my arrival, which is fine, but showing a little enthusiasm for my return after a few years away would have been nice. Instead I got utterly bullied by them for being a feminist. I had a horrible realization that my childlike perception of my relatives was very rose-tinted; in reality, they were cold, hard conservatives who took it upon themselves to put me straight on my pathetic beliefs. At one point, they had me on the ground sobbing into the carpet and were standing over me telling me that I didn’t know what I was talking about, that I was a wuss for crying after an hour of being gaslit, and that I wasn't really a feminist because I was reliant my partner (because, you know, I'm sick with 3 chronic illnesses and 2 mental illnesses, but hey they don't believe me about that, either). I was so roundly abused by everybody that I have not gone back since. My uncle even told me that my father had chosen to die rather than deal with his immediate family. I disagreed, stating that he had in fact been looking forward to my visit, tragically scheduled a few weeks after he died, and that his friend had told me it was all he could talk about. But my uncle said I was wrong: my father had chosen to die rather than see me. Picked his moment. Checked out deliberately. Shortly after that disgustingly callous remark, my aunt told me, in no uncertain terms, exactly what she thought about me and my family. I won't repeat that here because it is too painful.

Now, to paint a picture about the kind of person I am, every step of the way I have forgiven people. Even when they have hurt me and refused to acknowledge that hurt or apologize for it, I have forgiven them and come back to them. Why? Because I'm used to being a doormat. Because I'm used to being told that as the eldest daughter it is my responsibility to be there for the family; to be everybody's counsellor when they need it and to be their punching bag when they're feeling volatile. What gets me is that since I was a girl, I have been mocked and ridiculed for being “too sensitive” and “a crybaby”. I mean, I grew up with relentless domestic violence, a deeply unhappy home life in a country rife with crime and on the brink of civil war, and like a normal child, I expressed my fear and suffering through tears. But in response to that I was given so-called “tough love” (to quote my sister) and made to feel like it was a tremendous weakness on my part to acknowledge my difficult emotions. And yet that same softness and sensitivity is what they ALL turned to when they needed it from me. I was their sounding board, consoled them when they required it, reached out when I could tell they were down (especially my dad). But me? I'm not allowed to have feelings of my own, because they are an inconvenience that must be swiftly dealt with by dismissing them as an “overreaction”. Because they won’t face their own inner turmoil, they have attacked me for not only feeling but expressing mine. After repeated episodes of this, I have learned NOT to show my hand to them. I am still the same sensitive, sweet person with my friends, and I still provide my family comfort when they need it, but I strive not to cry in front of them anymore or talk about my own pain or hardships. I have diagnosed PTSD from my childhood trauma that gets triggered whenever I make myself vulnerable to them, so I just don’t do it anymore, which has meant I have an absolute volcano-load of rage and resentment locked down underneath my smiling exterior.

Despite all of this, I have sent countless emails, letters, handmade cards and packages to relatives who never once asked me how I'm doing and don't bother to reply. I have done this because I have been so utterly brainwashed by society's expectation that the first born daughter is a secondary mother figure, including to her own mother, and must pour emotional labour into everybody without ever needing it to be reciprocated. It's a very pernicious form of sexism that I was completely oblivious to during my eight years of feminist activism.

I kept up with my grandmother during the nine years after my dad's death until she passed away a week ago. The rest of my family couldn't be bothered to do the same for her. So when she died, knowing full well that I'd put a lot of emotional energy and time into that relationship, I thought at the very least they would reach out to me to say hey, how are you doing? What a fool I am. To think that they would do that when they didn't even do that when dad died! So I ended up angrily prompting them which has since opened a can of worms. They kinda sorta detected I am a bit pissed off with them? Even though they don't know why I'm so angry…???

According to 5 different psychologists, I was viciously bullied and gaslit as a child and teenager. My gentle nature was seen as a weakness and a character flaw. I now know how wrong my family are about that. Ten years of therapy teaches you a thing or two about people’s maladaptive coping mechanisms. I can see their dysfunction because I have spent 9 years reckoning with my own; looking into my past trauma and figuring out how to process it. I can see all their scars and wounds in a way that they just can't. And yet they continuously project that unacknowledged trauma onto me over and over again, triggering my PTSD and keeping me from being able to move on. The stress they cause me literally makes me ill. And even though I've had psychologist literally begging me to cut ties with my family because they are that poisonous to my mental well-being (and in turn my physical well-being), that brainwashing is so entrenched that I have just stuck it out.

But you know what? Gran’s death broke something in me. It dredged up all the hurt and anger I have buried deep, known only to my counsellors and partner, and I have realised how utterly toxic it has been for me to swallow that down for so long. In the past 2 years, I've put down boundaries with my mother and even though she wrestled with them she's beginning to accept them and we are getting along a bit better now. I've accepted I will never have the sort of relationship with my mother that I'd hoped for, because she cannot be the person I need her to be. Fine. But with the rest of my family I have absolutely had enough. I'm no longer going to be their emotional punching bag and I refuse to be taken for granted. I'm no longer going to be there for them when they need me only to get gaslit and dismissed when I need them. I'm dumping the role of the dutiful daughter/sister/niece.

There’s a pernicious lie that is sold to us through media and mantras: that you often hurt the ones you love the most. That family need to be there for each other, no matter what.

I call bullshit on that idea.

I don’t hurt my friends, and if I accidentally do, I apologise for that, because I know that they can walk anytime and I need to work on making that relationship worthwhile for them. My bonds with other people are built on mutual respect, open communication and genuine appreciation for one another. It needs to be a two way street. I don’t take them for granted and they don’t take me for granted.

I no longer subscribe to the view that just because you are blood related to someone you need to tolerate their abuse. I think respect is earned. I think respect should be mutual. I think that people should be kind and considerate to one another. Why should there be one formula for how my family treat their friends, and another for how they treat me? I think the belief that we should tolerate the cruelty of family has led to many suicides and broken human beings. My own father walked away from his family after they mistreated him and was subsequently able to live his own life. But his failing was that he never went to therapy to deal with his trauma and instead turned to addiction to cope which led to his death. I learned from his mistake. I have been getting lots of much needed professional support. But the rest of my family are headed on the same path as dad, despite my imploring them to seek help themselves. They all refuse to acknowledge their own pain and damage which they, in turn, inflict on me, the only person in their life who will take it.

I am so done with being the only one to face the past, deal with my flaws and mend my broken parts. Because they refuse to acknowledge it and process it, it informs and affects their behaviour and actions, which are projected onto me and therefore leave me tethered to a time and a treatment I want to put behind me. In this way, maintaining ties with them has been the single most damaging thing I have done to my own process of healing. It’s a way of remaining tethered to the trauma.

Right now, I am having a reckoning with my family. It is blisteringly painful but ultimately necessary. It will be interesting to see what's on the other side of all this grief and pain and rage. What’s so frustrating is that it took something like another death in the family to leave that pain raw and exposed for all to see.

Better late than never, I guess.

"The Other Side" by David Gray Meet me on the other side, meet me on the other side I'll see you on the other side, see you on the other side Honey now if I'm honest, I still don't know what love is Another mirage folds into the haze of time recalled And now the floodgates cannot hold All my sorrow all my rage A tear that falls on every page Meet me on the other side, meet me on the other side Maybe I oughta mention, was never my intention To harm you or your kin, are you so scared to look within The ghosts are crawling on our skin We may race and we may run We'll not undo what has been done Or change the moment when it's gone

Meet me on the other side, meet me on the other side I'll see you on the other side, see you on the other side

I know it would be outrageous To come on all courageous And offer you my hand To pull you up on to dry land When all I got is sinking sand That trick ain't worth the time it buys I'm sick of hearing my own lies And love's a raven when it flies Meet me on the other side, meet me on the other side I'll see you on the other side, see you on the other side Honey now if I'm honest, I still don't know what love is

#childhood trauma #abuse #neglect #gaslighting #psychological abuse #emotional abuse #ptsd #chronic illness #mental illness

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ladylilibet · 4 years

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Tainted Love|Chapter 4

I/II/III/IV/V Tainted Love – How can you tell a lady no? The White Wolf claimed he needed no one, but his collection of misfits started with Lady Helena of Oxenfurt… and ended with her, too.

Chapter IV: 𝕹𝖔𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕱𝖎𝖗𝖘𝖙 𝕿𝖎𝖒𝖊

Two seasons had flown by and landed the pair in the thralls of winter. Unbeknownst to Helena, a bounty sat on her head. She was being hunted by her father's men and her White Wolf wasn't alerted until she was all but cornered. Once captured, a deal was struck , a compromise was met . Her adventures were to be viewed as her studying abroad. Warranted freedom that was also an extension of her education. Her parents allowed this independence, yet still kept her on a short leash. She had to promise that she would send a letter home at each fort and would return in time for a summer wedding.

They never did pick up where they left off in the forest of Blaviken, often leaving her to wonder if it was a dream. They shared many baths, but other than stolen looks, nothing came of it. She stopped questioning her place as his ward once they stopped at a brothel a week ago.

The chill of the night made Helena tremble and shiver. She hugged her cloak closer and rested her head on Roach's shoulder with a sigh. She was kicked out of her room for non-payment -- the owner refused her broaches in place of coin. Geralt was able to finish his philandering but she couldn't even finish her meal.

"Don't judge me." Geralt told her he sauntered out of the brothel as he took note of her pouty lip. She responded with a half-hearted shrug. He turned to the brothel keep that was escorting him out, "I'll be back with payment in a few days. Anything happens to my horse..."

"You don't scare me," He snorted

Geralt glowered down at the shorter man who was now trembling. He demanded to know where Temeria is and the keep immediately pointed in the right direction.

Helena set forth, not sure of where she was going, but more than willing to keep a distance between her and Geralt. She had difficulty adjusting in the dark and could feel his eyes bore holes into her back as she stumbled every so often .

"Lena," He called out after watching her trip once more. She kept her pace and kept quiet. "Mind telling me what your problem is?"

She let out a sarcastic laugh, unable to bite her tongue, "Mind telling me what that was? To... tease me for months, only to bring me to a brothel and leave me to my own devices. A respected noblewoman surrounded by immodesty. I don't have experience with men, but what kind of mind games are you playing?"

Helena stopped to face him and questioned whether she was being daft given his emotionless expression . Ready to give up and forget it, she turned around, only to have him grab her wrist to stop her.

"I am still a man, Helena. Would you have preferred you to be the one to warm my bed?" Geralt provoked, voice gruff. She could feel the heat rise to her face and with her free hand, she slapped him across the face. A blow he expected but caused him to grimace nonetheless.

"I don't expect you to feel how I do --"

"Because I'm a Witcher?" An argument he always chose to default to whenever the pair bickered.

"No, you absolute dolt." Helena huffed and returned his glare. "forget it."

The pair continued to walk to Temeria in silence, but this time, side-by-side. They arrived within the mines and listened to the worker's demonstration.

"My son, rest his soul, told me in Nilfgaard the king diddled whores while his subjects starved. Then someone came: The Usurper.

And he rallied the people, and they took back what was theirs! I say we follow their lead!" The man's story was met with cheers from his comrades, but a chuckle from Geralt.

"You can't kill the Vukodlak so you decide to kill your king?" He asked in a condescending tone before pretending to think about it, "Great plan."

"Another fuckin' Witcher." He was met with distaste as some of the works spat at his feet, "Your kind already swindled us once."

"I take payment after the job is done and for a third of the price," The white-haired man corrected.

Helena nodded her head towards the workers, "An utmost apology from ours to yours."

The demonstrator seemed hesitant and looked to his fellow men for reassurance, "And if you can't kill it ?"

"Then I die." The Witcher responded matter-of-factly .

The march of armor caused the crowd to go tense; pick-axes were now held like weapons at the ready.

"Lower your weapons and return to your homes," A nobleman commanded, "Do so quickly and without further theatrics and you have my word that our king will not hear of this treason ."

"Foltest commits treason. He hides in his winter castle as we are eaten ." The demonstrator's argument met with more cheers.

"Mikal was a good boy." The nobleman told the man, feigning empathy as he clasped his hand on his shoulder. "Revenge will not ease your pain."

The mourning man removed his hand and spat at his feet. Forces were at the ready to clash but were called off with a waved of the hand.

"You know nothing of my pain." He left with his men following in suit.

Geralt sighed at their departure and looked to the nobleman, "Does Foltest have a plan?"

He ignored Geralt's question despite looking at him. "See this one to the borders. Temeria's had their fill of Witchers."

Knights escorted the pair with only the moon lighting their path. After walking for a short time, the four horsemen slumped off onto the cold ground as a fog surrounded the party.

As Helena opened her mouth to voice her concerns, her bones felt heavy. She struggled to breathe before she too fell in the snow. She could feel strong arms pick her up and cradle her. She strained to hear them speak, but their voices fell on her deaf ears. Feeling weak and unable to continue to fight the spell, she let herself be consumed by the darkness.

Helena awoke to the smell of incense that permeated the air. She blinked away the sleep in her eyes before sitting up to note her surroundings. Geralt's cloak tucked in around her and she drew the cloth closer to her frame. She attempted to call out for him, but her voice was hoarse and her mouth felt as if she swallowed sand. What little sound she could summon was enough to alert someone that she was awake. Footsteps made their way towards her.

"In my defense, I presumed you were also a sorceress. I didn't expect you to pass out." A melodic voice offered her. The speaker rounded the corner in tandem with Geralt, revealing herself. She was pretty and lithe, almost unnaturally so, with her honey skin dusted with freckles. She gave Helena a soft smile as she clasped her hands in front of her, "I'm Triss Merigold."

Helena strained to speak but was met with only a wheeze. She huffed as a blush crept up her cheeks, prompting Geralt to laugh. He strode towards her and patted her back before introducing her.

"she means to say she's Helena."

"I can fetch a maid to bring you some tea if you'd like," Triss offered. At Helena's quick nodding, she continued, "Though King Foltest didn't prepare for your arrivals, I'm sure I can get you two settled in the guest chambers . Would you like to room together or separate?"

"Separate." The pair spoke in unison, though Helena's response was more of a croak.

Triss nodded, her soft smile now contorted into a smirk, and left to have their rooms readied.

Helena would be lying to herself if she said she didn't mind having a bed all to herself. She could stretch out and didn't have to deal with Geralt's tossing and turning. And yet she still missed him sleeping next to her.

She sat up and stretched with a sigh. Was it unfair for her to still be annoyed with him? He owed her nothing. After all, they weren't a couple. She was betrothed to another man. And yet…

" I think I'm falling for him," Helena slumped back into the bed with a groan and ran her fingers through her hair.

She mentally wrestled with this conclusion. As she did, her bedroom door flew open, causing her to shriek and clutch the duvet to her, hiding her dressing gown.

Geralt stood at the entrance, a small grin played on his lips. Speak of the devil.

"Haven't you ever heard of knocking?" She huffed with a scowl, which caused him to smile more.

"Glad you have your voice back. Pack your things."

"Why?"

"I... may have accused Foltest of fucking his sister."

Helena rubbed her temples, "So we're leaving?"

"No, of course not. We have a curse to break."

The duo stood outside the abandoned castle that housed the Striga. Geralt had given her the full run-down. Princess Adda, Foltest's sister, was presumably cursed during her pregnancy. She and the child died during birth and the stillborn grew into a Striga. A beast with an insatiable appetite that was powerful to kill a Witcher once before.

The wind blew causing the old castle walls to groan. The men on guard shuddered and flinched at every small noise. Their knuckles were white as they held their weapons at the ready.

"You were told to leave Temeria," Triss said as she approached them.

Geralt replied in a flat tone as he gestured around him, "But come on. These views."

"Are you going to kill her?"

"I don't want the miner's coin."

"Or mine, apparently ." Triss accused, eyeing them both. "What is this girl to you? Why do you care?"

"You first. I saw how Foltest and his boy spoke to you. Why help those who won't listen?"

The other woman sighed. Accepting that she wouldn't win this argument, "And how do you plan on getting past the guards?"

Helena picked up a large rock amongst the rubble and tossed it overhand behind the guards. At the sudden commotion, they abandoned post with their tails between their legs. She looked to the others with a smug smile.

The group wandered into the castle and Geralt tried each locked door. Helena regarded the skeletal remains that littered the floor.

"Temeria reeks of secrets. I could sense them," Triss spoke, " Just like I could these bodies before we entered. I imagine you sense them, too."

Though she was speaking to Geralt, he didn't reply, causing Helena to respond to him.

"A big, spooky castle has dead bodies in it? How revolutionary."

Triss rolled her eyes and stopped to view a painting, "Foltest and Adda. Whatever happened to them?"

Helena shook her head, unsure. The sorceress looked to Geralt, hoping to get a response from him, but got nothing.

"Not answering questions is a pillar of his brooding charm," Helena answered.

"I'm pretty sure Foltest is the father," Geralt kept walking as he ignored the women. They followed him in silence until they reached the master bedroom.

"Do you think he cursed her?" Triss questioned. When she only received a quirked brow from Geralt and a blank stare from Helena, she clarified. "Foltest."

" Maybe ."

Geralt sniffed the air around the bed as Triss played with a music box. The eerie tune made Helena more on edge as it added to the ominous presence. The music stopped, the noise of tinkering followed, then Triss called out.

"Guys. Letters from Queen Sancia, Foltest and Adda's mother.

'My dearest Adda, you must leave your room one day soon, my child. You must maintain your strength. Despite the crimes you have committed against the crown, you remain my only one, my little girl. Understand that you and Foltest may not see one another again so that your sin cannot be repeated'..." Triss trailed off and stopped reading the letter.

"Looks like you were right, Geralt." Helena quipped with a crinkled nose and a shudder.

Unsure of the next step, Triss suggested they take the letter to the king's courtier, Ostrit.

"A Queen Mother cursing her own children for their affair," With a click of his tongue, Ostrit tossed the parchment onto his desk . "This could destroy the throne."

They asked questions such as whether the Queen Mother had any ties to dark sorcery. These letters now making her a prime suspect. None of these questions seemed to strike a chord with Ostrit, but one.

"What was your relationship with Adda?" Helena asked.

The older man faltered but attempted to act indifferent, "Well, I like to think that she saw me as a confidant. A protector, even. She could be naive."

"Did she ever mention her relationship with Foltest?"

" Certainly not like this," He replied, gesturing to the letter.

Triss furrowed her brow, "She was ashamed .

"Or she was frightened ." Ostrit offered, "What if the relationship was not... consensual?"

Helena crossed her arms with a frown, "You think he raped his own sister and then cursed the child to cover it up?"

"Kings have done more for less."

"True," Geralt nodded as he stepped towards the courtier. "But there is one small wrinkle, though. Your scent was on her sheets. Old ones... and new ones."

"Geralt, what would he be doing in a dead girl's bed?"

"I could smell what he was doing." His tone was dark and the realization hit her, causing her to cringe.

Ostrit began to tremble and cried out, "Foltest had no right! He seduced Adda. He abused his position. He was always nagging her for attention. But he didn't love her. I did!"

"You cursed the woman you loved?" Triss spat as her hands formed fists.

"I cursed Foltest, not her."

"Countless are dead because of your jealousy."

"Countless are dead because of Foltest! He spoiled Adda with his seed. He refuses to kill this striga. He lies to his people. And yet you wag a finger in my face."

"Cool motive, still murder." Helena jeered, "If you wanted him to suffer, you could have just exposed the affair."

"And hurt Adda? Never. Her memory will not be sullied while I'm alive to protect it."

"Your actions led to her death regardless. You weren't protecting her."

Geralt cut off Helena and looked down his nose at Ostrit, "Tell us how to lift the curse."

"No," He stated with a defiant glint in his eyes, "Foltest will watch as Temeria turns against him. Just as he turned Adda against me."

Geralt hummed and punched the man, knocking him out cold.

Helena checked each tip of her arrow was sharp enough as the full moon neared. Once she satisfied, she put the last bow in her quiver and tightened her straps. Geralt readied his own things and once he saw she was prepared , he stood with a sigh.

"Look, Lena..." He began as he scratched the back of his neck.

She raised a brow. Was he about to apologize? Make any sudden declarations?

"You're going to sit this one out," He continued, "It's too risky. It's not the same as fighting a ghoul."

"Do you not think I'm ready?"

"Lena, please don't start. Triss will look after you. I'll see you when the sun rises." He squeezed her shoulder as a goodbye before taking off.

Helena looked to Triss with a scowl who threw her arms up in mock surrender.

"I'm not the one who told him he should make you stay."

"He keeps treating me like a child. He makes me practice combat every day, and for what?"

"Are you going to follow him?"

She paused, having not considered that as an option, then nodded. She grabbed the last of her things before leaving the sorceress behind.

"Okay, but if Geralt asks, I put up more of a fight!" Triss called after her.

She sat holed up as she listened to the terrible screams of the Striga. Her vantage point wasn't the greatest. Though she could see that this was the ugliest beast she had yet to encounter. As she watched the fight take place, she cheered Geralt on. But once the Striga broke free of the chain Geralt bound her in --

"Fuck," Geralt and Helena uttered in unison.

The creature tackled and pinned the Witcher to the ground as he struggled under her weight. With a piercing screech, the Striga had overtaken him and her spit pooled on his face. He attempted to grab his sword, only to have it knocked away and out of reach.

Helena drew her bow back and paused. With a deep breath, she released and the broad sharp pierced its shoulder. The beast reared with an unpleasant cry. Though it was now distracted from Geralt, the beast's attention was now on Helena. Before she could position another bow, the Witcher used the symbol Aard. Thrusting both him and the Striga through the stone floor and onto the lower level with a heavy thud.

Helena scrambled from her hiding spot and raced to the second floor. She was trembling as she attempted to use her bow to steady herself. She looked at the Striga who lay motionless then to Geralt as he inspected a broken vial.

"Is it dead?" She asked, nudging the creature with her foot.

The White Wolf threw the broken glass and scowled at her with bared teeth, "You disobeyed me."

The young girl clutched her bow tighter and avoided his gaze. She mumbled about how it was Triss's idea for her to come. He towered over her, face stern but eyes soft, as he clasped her hand.

"You have to trust me as I trust you. If we are to be a team, I need you to follow my instinct."

He gave her wrist a soft squeeze and let go, walking off to the crypt's entrance and placing a protection ward.

"I'm here now," Helena called after him, voice shaky. "So what do we do?"

"Keep the Striga out of her crypt 'til dawn."

"Simple enough." With a final look at the beast, she took her station at Geralt's side as he tested the ward.

Moments later when she went to check on the Striga, she noticed it had gone. Before she could even voice her concerns, the beast tackled her. Its weight enough to bring them both hard on the ground. Helena cried out for Geralt as claws dug into her shoulders. She pressed her bow against the creature's neck, pushing it off. The wood splintered and broke under the force.

Geralt grabbed the Striga. In retaliation, the Striga tossed him into a stone pillar, treating him as if he was a ragdoll. With a final blow to the Witcher, the beast retreated to the crypt only to be blown back by the protection charm. Furious, the Striga ran to assault Geralt once more. He was ready this time and punched it back with a pair of brass knuckles.

Sunlight infiltrated the castle -- they finally made it to dawn. Geralt picked Helena up and carried her as they ran to the tomb. He threw them back into the coffin. He clutched her to his chest as he closed the lid and sealed it with a protection charm. Helena buried her nose into his tunic as a feeble attempt to hide from the scent of death and decay. He stroked her back as they lay waiting. Once they heard the rooster crow for the third time, Geralt opened the coffin and helped them both out.

The Striga was now transformed into a human but lay bloody and shivering. Geralt approached her. The small movement was enough to spook her and she attacked him. She bit deep into his jugular.

As he bled out and succumbed to darkness, she inched away. Terrified eyes locked with Helena's. Helena wanted to scream, cry, anything, but she knew it would further frighten the girl.

Helena held her hands up to show she no longer had her weapon. Her face was soft and she cooed to the girl as if she was speaking to a stray dog on the street.

"Hi there, Princess. I'm not going to hurt you." Helena slowly took off her cloak and tossed it at her feet. She mimed shivering and pretended to wrap an invisible cloak around herself. "Brrr, cold."

Apprehensively, she stood and put on the cloak as she followed Helena's lead.

Helena stepped towards her, causing the other girl to flinch at each step. "Outside." She pointed and rubbed her belly, "Find food."

Together they walked out of the castle -- Helena kept her distance as the other struggled to walk. At the end of the bridge, Foltest and his men waited. The princess eyed them suspiciously and looked to Helena who gave a reassuring smile and a nod.

With no time to help reunite the estranged daughter and father, Helena went back to tend to Geralt. She thanked Melitele that he was still breathing. She knew that she didn't have the strength to drag him out alone, so she would need to nurse his wounds where he lay.

She grabbed her satchel and rummaged for her things. With a rag, she held pressure to the bite and her free hand brushed his stray hair out of his face. Once assured that the bleeding had stopped, she grabbed her bottle of vodka. She poured it onto the wound to clean it. The burning was enough to wake him; his golden eyes shot open and he clenched his jaw.

Ignoring him, Helena dressed the wound tight and secure. Satisfied with her work, she hummed and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"I'll put some salve on it later. It looks like it'll lead to a nasty scar."

"Add it to my collection." Geralt tried to sit up but was met with a small hand to his chest, pushing him back. He sighed and strained to look around.

"She's with Foltest," Helena answered. "You were magnificent, Geralt. You could have killed her and yet..." She shook her head and exhaled, "Look, I'm sorry I didn't listen to you."

Before she could ramble, Helena was cut off with a deep kiss. She stiffened and didn't return it and instead broke away. Geralt seemed pained by the rejection which she quickly shook off.

"You're just... covered in a lot of blood."

"Oh," He blinked. "That I am."

"We can try again later." She assured with a laugh. She rose and walked over to where her weapon lay. The bow was completely splintered and Helena grimaced, casting it aside.

"Time you learned how to wield a sword. Lucky for you, I know a good master."

#witcher fanfiction #witcher oc #geraltxoc #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #taintedlove|

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guilty-pleasures-abound · 5 years

Note

Friends to lovers, Ford/reader?

This is basically a full-fledged fic, not a drabble. I’m justifying it by pointing out that it also fulfills the “bed sharing” trope request from another anon.

Also for @ocxanman, sorry I didn’t read your prompt correctly the first time!

You couldn’t believe your luck, getting assigned to be Stanford Pines’ lab partner. He was the pride of Backupsmore, he was the student the teachers raved about, he was the crazy guy rumored to be going for twelve phds. If anyone was going to take your chemistry class seriously, it was him.

What you didn’t expect was how charming you found him. He was a workaholic and a socially awkward nerd, to be sure, but there was just something about him that was so damn interesting. Long after your shared chemistry class was over, you found yourselves spending time together; studying, seeing movies (when you could manage to pull Ford away from his books), eating meals together (more often than not, you were sneaking a plate into the library to make sure he didn’t forget).

You could occasionally coax him over to your dorm, bribing him with jelly beans if he just let you both study somewhere comfortable for once! He was generally accepting of the idea until he realized that if he dozed off, you wouldn’t wake him to keep studying.

“You just want me to fall asleep,” he said when you asked this time, a raised eyebrow arched in your direction, arms folded in resistance to the idea.

“I would never,” you gaped, hand spread over your heart in mock indignation. “I want to fall asleep.”

That drew a little smile out of him against his will, which you counted squarely as a victory. “Come on, Pines, a change of scenery from the library will do you good.”

He finally agreed with an exasperated sigh, after asserting that if you were lying about the jelly beans he’d find a way to sabotage your advanced physics final. You didn’t doubt that he meant it.

Ford arrived at your door later that evening, and once safely pacified by the bag of jelly beans presented to him with a flourish, he settled on the floor so he could spread all his books out in a circle around him.

Then comfortable silence; just the rustle of paper, the light scratch of pens, and the occasional click of the jelly beans jostling together as Ford scooped small handfuls out of their bag.

Admittedly, you were having a hard time concentrating. You could tell that Ford had showered before coming over; his face was freshly shaved, his hair clean and fluffy, and you had a feeling when you hugged him goodbye later (whether that was tonight or tomorrow remained to be seen) he would smell pleasantly like soap.

You didn’t know when you had started to notice things like that; the color of Ford’s shirts, when he showered, when he cut his hair or shaved his face. You tried not to admit it, tried not to think about it too much, but somewhere between “nice to meet you" and the first time he accidentally stayed the night in your dorm, you had developed a truly terrible crush on one Stanford Pines.

One Stanford Pines who, as you had hoped, started dozing off around one in the morning.

He had made the fatal mistake of lying down on his belly, arms tucked under his chin. You noticed he was falling asleep by the way his head was drooping off to the side, his breath deepening, making you smile a little.

You got up quietly, tiptoeing around his books and leaning down to carefully remove his glasses. He snuffled, but thankfully didn’t wake.

You were more than ready to call it a night anyway, so you got ready for bed and turned off the lights. If you didn’t trust Ford not to ignore your insistence on going back to his dorm to sleep not study, you would have woke him; but you knew he would be up until at least four pouring over books if left unsupervised.

So on the floor he’d stay, and if he got a stiff neck it would be his own damn fault for being a sleep-deprived dummy that refused to rest when he should.

Around three, you woke up to the feeling of weight on your mattress, startling the crap out of you.

“Shit!” you heard Ford’s familiar voice hiss, the weight leaving the mattress again, and the clumsy thunk of him tripping over one of the various books he had left on the floor.

You fumbled for the bedside table’s lamp, clicking it on and squinting in the sudden light to find Ford doing much the same; squinting and looking disoriented as the illumination reminded him where he was.

“Shit,” he said again, rubbing both hands over his eyes then back into his hair. “Shit, I’m so sorry. I forgot where I was, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine,” you interjected, just barely suppressing a yawn. “Really, Ford, not a big deal.”

“Right,” he mumbled, squinting still as he looked around; you were guessing trying to find where you had stashed his glasses. “Right, I’ll just head out, sorry to wake you—well, sorry I fell asleep, I shouldn’t have—”

What you said next was a gamble, but you were going to take it. “For fuck’s sake, Pines, just crash here.”

You shuffled over, wedging your back against the wall to leave a space on the narrow mattress for him, your heart pounding nervously in your chest. It was a bold move, you had to admit; most people didn’t just casually share a bed, especially not a little twin-sized dorm mattress.

Ford stared at you for several long moments, his mouth opening, then closing once before he let his breath out through his nose.

“Are you… sure?”

“Yeah man, of course I’m sure. It’s the middle of the night, I’m not sending you back across campus, and I’m not about to force you to sleep on the floor. I only left you there earlier because I didn’t want you trying to wake yourself up to get back to studying.”

“I knew it! You did only invite me here in the hopes I would fall asleep early!”

“For Christ’s sake, scold me in the morning, will you just lay down already?”

That shut him up, Ford biting his lip before finally giving a tiny nod, making your heart pick up tempo a little. Then he was lying down, reaching over to turn off the lamp, and plunging you back into darkness.

Ford had agreed to share a bed with you. The sheer amazement at that fact finally dawned on you. He could have remained on the floor, or insisted on going back to his own place, middle of the night be damned, but Ford had chosen to stay. Here. With you. Laying mere centimeters away on a narrow college dorm room mattress.

For a little while it made you too nervous to sleep; trying to parse if this really meant what you thought (hoped, prayed) it meant. But after twenty minutes of neither of you moving or speaking, you felt drowsiness starting to set back in, and the next thing you knew, you were fast asleep.

The next time you woke up, however, there was a heavy arm draped over your waist, and Ford’s soft, slow breathing against the back of your neck.

Ho. ly. Shit.

What should I do? you thought. If he hadn’t meant to do it, he might get all flustered and weird. If he had meant to do it, would it be wildly inappropriate to kiss the living daylights out of him…?

You opted to just stay still, and wait to see what Ford would do when he woke up.

You didn’t have to wait long, Ford taking a deep breath in as he pulled slowly out of sleep barely a half hour later. He didn’t seem to realize you were awake, and you made absolutely no move to alert him.

He was still for a moment, just breathing, and you weren’t sure if it was because he didn’t realize who he was cuddled up to. He waylaid that uncertainty when he gave a soft sigh, and you felt the barest press of lips to the back of your neck before he began to withdraw his arm painstakingly slowly in his attempt not to wake you.

“Stay,” you whispered, unable to stop yourself from laying your hand over his, keeping his arm around your waist.

His sharp intake of breath told you that you had startled him, his body frozen stiff behind you in a panic, but you just squeezed his hand and tilted your head back slightly toward him.

“Stay,” you repeated in a whisper.

A few more tense moments, time seeming to come to a crawl, before the tension left Ford’s body, his shaky breath warm on the back of your neck.

“Are you certain?” he murmured, sounding shocked and awed that you wanted him there.

“Of course I am,” you replied, feeling color come to your face.

Silence, just the sound of Ford’s breath right behind you, then he shifted, pushing up on his elbow so he could look down at you in the weak light sneaking past the blinds.

He murmured your name, bringing your gaze to his, the two of you just looking at each other for a moment. With a sudden stroke of bravery, you reached up to cup the back of his head, pulling him down for a kiss you had been wanting for far too long.

Ford gave a little gasp, then he was melting into it with a soft moan, that perfect little sound flooding you with sharp yearning.

“I didn’t dare hope—” he tried to pull his lips away to whisper, prompting you to wiggle around in his grip until you were flat on your back and pulling him down flush against you.

“Me either,” you murmured, combing your fingers through his hair with one hand as the other wrapped around his amazing shoulders. “Fuck, Ford, I have such a crush on you.”

His cheeks pinked, but the next kiss he pressed to your lips was so warm with intent it made you hot all over.

“Let’s skip class,” you whispered to him. “Kissing you is a lot nicer.”

His surprised chortle made you grin, the two of you looking at each other with content amusement.

You knew he’d never allow you to skip lecture, nerd that he was, but maybe you’d convince him to forgo studying quantum physics tonight in favor of… anatomy.

#stanford pines #ford pines #stanford pines x reader #ford pines x reader #writing prompts #trope prompts #hunkle writing #reader insert #writing #ocxanman #Anonymous #anon #grunkle ford #gravity falls #fanfiction #fanfic #asks #askbox

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finding-jericho-blog · 5 years

Text

Same Difference (Part Two)

characters: RK900(dbh) x human fem!reader, Gavin Reed

warning(s): Graphic language

word count: 2,287 words

A/N: I am SO sorry this took so long, I know this update is kind of out of nowhere! A lot of things have been happening in my life and trust me, you don’t want to know. But ANYWAY, I hope you enjoy part two! Hopefully I’ll be more active and getting back into the swing of things. Thank you guys so much for your patience. <3

Part One

Time seemed to pass far too slowly as the hours dragged on; Hank reminded you for the third time that you didn’t have to be here, but there was no way in hell that you were leaving him to deal with this on his own. You knew Hank was more than capable of taking care of himself, but the thought of him going out on a case with no one to watch his back that he could really, truly trust? You couldn’t do that, even if being here was dredging up things you wish you could just forget. Although you dared not sneak another glance in the RK900’s direction, you were hyper aware of his cool eyes trained on you with laser focus; he was analyzing you. Studying you. Observing your every movement. After all, neither you nor Hank had said a word to him or given him any task to perform, it was the perfect opportunity to familiarize himself with you both. This was the fourteenth time you’d threaded your fingers through your hair, the eleventh time Lieutenant Anderson had heaved out a heavy sigh. It would not have taken a highly advanced prototype to see that the both of you were on edge, and while the RK900 only knew what information was necessary concerning what had occurred with his predecessor, he had already worked out that it had been a particularly traumatic experience. Neither of you could bear to look him in the eye, and the rest of the department stole sideways glances and shared hushed whispers that they didn’t think he could hear. He could. “I can’t believe the captain assigned that thing to Hank again.” “Especially after what it did to [Y/N].” The RK900’s gaze darted back towards you. What had the previous Connor model done to you that he had not done to Lieutenant Anderson? For only the briefest of moments, he considered asking, but his social relations program warned him that doing so may result in the damaging of an already tense relationship, and so he refrained. All that he had been told was that the RK800 had attempted to neutralize his human associates when he perceived that they were interfering with his mission. His commitment to completing his mission had not been faulty, he recalled Amanda explaining this to him just before his deployment. In the grand scheme of things, the lives of two humans mattered very little when compared to the importance of putting an end to the deviancy crisis. But CyberLife did not wish to risk damaging their affiliation with the Detroit Police Department; their cooperation was imperative in helping stop the deviancy crisis once and for all, and their resources were a true asset. Therefore, decommissioning the RK800 series was a necessary, yet temporary, setback. It took very little time for CyberLife to presumably fix the errors the RK800 series had exhibited, creating the RK900 series using resources that they already had as well as newly acquired technology. He was better than the RK800 series in every conceivable way, and yet.. A sudden shift in your weight drew him out of his thoughts, and he watched as you slipped off the edge of Lieutenant Anderson’s desk, raising your arms above your head to stretch out your aching muscles; his LED swirled a diligent yellow as he watched. “I’m getting a coffee,” you announced, though he knew you were addressing your uncle, and not the RK900 himself. “want one?” “Sure,” came the gruff response, though he didn’t bother to glance up from his work, perhaps not wanting to risk accidentally making eye contact with the android across from him. “I could get it for you.” Both of pairs of human eyes snapped over towards the RK900 as if surprised, though he could not imagine why; his own pale eyes shifted between the both of you as you turned to glance at one another. As if neither one of you heard his offer, Hank’s gaze darted back down to the scattered papers, and you stiffly turned on your heel, retreating to the break room without another word. The android’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched you go. Yes.. he was better than the RK800 series in every conceivable way, and yet.. it was clear to him that you could only see his predecessor when you looked at him. Although you were far from out of the RK900’s line of sight, you were relieved to be out from under his scrutinizing gaze, if only for a short while. Your hands pressed into the counter as you leaned against it, allowing your tired eyes to slip shut momentarily as the coffee brewed. The way he looked at you reminded you of Connor for what you were sure would not be the last time; he was trying to learn you, to figure you out as though you were some complicated equation that desperately needed solving. That’s all that you’d been to Connor, and once he’d figured you out, he used you to get to Hank, to ensure that his mission went smoothly. You had gotten too comfortable with who you had thought Connor was-- you could have never known that by admitting that you thought destroying the deviants was morally wrong, he would consider you a possible interference. You should have kept him at arm's length; you should have known that he wasn’t like other androids. You should have- “You alright?” Your eyes snapped open and your head shot upwards, turning to meet the pale blue eyes of a familiar detective, and not one you liked all too well. “I don’t really care, but you’re in front of the coffee machine and I’m just wondering how long your breakdown is going to last.” “Shut the fuck up, Gavin.” His lips twisted upwards into a smug, mocking smile as he took a step nearer to you, prompting you to step back in disgust, not wishing to have him anywhere near you. Nonchalantly, he stopped the coffee you had been brewing half-way, pouring it into a cheap styrofoam cup, and speaking all the while he did so. “I saw that Fowler assigned that bucket of bolts back to your uncle. It’s kind of fucked up when you think about it.” You watched in silence as he lifted the cup to his haggard face, pausing to smell the dark roast before taking a tentative sip. “I mean, we all know how you felt about the first one.” Your hands balled into fists as he seemed to appraise the coffee, before carelessly dumping it out into the nearby sink with a shrug; if looks could kill, Gavin would absolutely be six feet under. “I don’t like this kind.” “What do you want?” You muttered under your breath, your voice dangerously low. You were in no mood to deal with Gavin’s little mind games, and the way he turned to smirk at you made it clear that he hadn’t come here for coffee; he came to gloat. “What’s the matter, did I strike a nerve?” When you only clenched your jaw and glared daggers at him, he shrugged easily, holding his hands up, palms facing you. “I’m just saying it’s messed up is all. Do you think he still remembers everything? Maybe he’s just biding his time and will actually finish the job this time around.” His voice sounded mockingly optimistic as he said this. Although you shouldn’t have been shocked by this, you felt a sting of disbelief when you realized that he meant that he hoped the RK900 would actually kill you and your uncle this time. Part of you wondered if he actually meant that, or if he was just trying to get under your skin; regardless, you were seething.

As you opened your mouth, perhaps to say something you might have regretted (then again, perhaps not), a third voice interrupted you, cutting you off. “Is there a situation here?” Every muscle in your body seized, ice running through your veins at the unprecedented closeness of Connor’s replacement; you could scarcely breathe. The RK900 stood at your side and narrowed his pale eyes on Gavin, overlooking you momentarily in favor of staring the detective down. The man arched his eyebrows, wholly unconcerned by the android’s sudden appearance; in fact, he seemed to find it amusing as he looked between you and prototype. “Not at all.” he replied smoothly, his eyes drifting across across the android; sizing him up. The RK900 only watched him curiously, canting his head to one side. “And even if there was, it’d be none of your fucking business, tin man.” “I would have to disagree, Detective. Hank Anderson is my business, and by extension, so is Miss [Y/L/N]. I would be appreciative if you did not antagonize her.”

Gavin laughed; it was a bitter, hollow sound that put you on edge, and the android at your side seemed to notice your sudden apprehension. He peered over at you, momentarily forgetting Gavin; instead, he observed your uncertain visage, your barely parted lips and wide eyes. “You’d be appreciative, huh?” The detective repeated mockingly, and before you could even think to warn the android that he shouldn’t have taken his eyes off Gavin, the man’s hands shot forwards. He gathered up the fabric of the RK900’s coat into tight fists, jerking him downwards to meet his gaze; the LED on his temple circled red despite his unimpressed countenance.

“That’s enough, Gavin, let him go!” You hissed, the words shooting past your lips before you could stop them; you reached out to grab the one of the man’s sleeves in some feeble attempt to pull him off of the android. Perhaps the part of you that still cared for Connor, despite what he had done, drove you to defend his replacement. Some small, weak part that you hated, that you wished had died when Connor had. As much as you could barely stand to look at the RK900, you were still helpless against him.

It disgusted you.

“Listen here, you plastic fuck.” He spat, completely ignoring your demands to let the RK900 go. “No android is going to tell me what I can and cannot do, do you understand me? Or do I have to beat it into that thick fucking skull of yours?”

“For God’s sake Gavin, just let him go.”

The RK900 only watched Gavin with total disinterest, his eyes half-lidded in an almost condescendingly unconcerned expression. For one long, tense moment, the detective glared up at the prototype, and you thought for a moment that perhaps he was going to attack him, but without warning, Gavin’s hands were finally releasing his black and white jacket, wrenching his own sleeve out of your grasp; he chuckled breathily, as though it had all been some kind of elaborate prank, before shaking his head and taking few steps backwards. “They didn’t change a goddamn thing about you, did they? You can polish a turd, but it’s still a piece of shit.” Turning away swiftly, Gavin’s footfalls carried him just a bit outside the break room, but then he paused, glancing over his shoulder briefly. “[Y/N], I’d watch my back if I were you.” Then, he continued on until he was out of sight.

You knew it wasn’t that Gavin cared; he didn’t care about anything other than himself and his career, you really didn’t think he was capable of caring about anyone else. He just wanted you to be afraid, and despite knowing that… you were. The truth was, you were afraid of the RK900; it didn’t matter if CyberLife said they fixed the errors and fitted him with the newest technology. At the end of the day, he was still a deviant hunter, and you still thought the deviants should be left alone. He was still dangerous… maybe even more so than Connor ever had been.

“Are you alright?” Your eyes snapped upwards to the android in question; his almost silvery irises watched you cautiously, his LED having shifted back to a preoccupied gold; he was scanning you, checking your vitals you were sure. You had thought it was sweet when Connor had done it, because you thought his concern for your well-being had come from a place of genuine care. Really, though, it had been out of necessity and convenience; if you had been unwell, it would have slowed him down. Knowing Connor’s replacement was doing the same left a bad taste in your mouth, to say the least.

“Just leave me alone.” You retorted harshly, eyes narrowing in disdain. “I don’t need your help.” With that, you left the replacement and returned to your uncle empty-handed, but he didn’t seem to mind or even ask why you hadn’t gotten the coffee you had left for to begin with.

The RK900 remained where you had left him, canting his head ever so slightly to the side with a thoughtfully knitted brow. Despite your apparent abhorrence to his presence here, you had attempted to defend him from Detective Reed, and he was beginning to create theories as to why, exactly. From all the information he had gathered, it seemed to the newest prototype that you and Lieutenant Anderson had been quite fond of the RK800, but that he had betrayed that fondness by attempting to take the both of you out. You, the RK900 hypothesised, had been closest to Connor, and perhaps you had just as much as trouble separating your anger and hurt from the RK900 as you did your previous admiration. Curious, he thought, watching you plant yourself up on Lieutenant Anderson’s desk once more, threading your fingers through your hair for the fifteenth time.

Very curious.

Taglist;

@akemiikeda, @deviantramblings, @deviantsupporter, @connorshero, @shadows-echoes, @treehousemagicblog

#RK900 #RK900 x reader #nines x reader #nines #x reader #dbh #detroit: become human #dbh nines #dbh rk900 #dbh reader #imagine

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