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feral-dumbass · 4 years

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Speak of the Devil

James “Bucky” Barnes/ Female Reader

Summary: You tag along with Bucky to a undercover reconnaissance mission at a goth club. Smut ensues.

Includes: Degradation, Choking, little bit of slut shaming, unprotected semi-public sex, hint of cockwarming, dirty talk, oral

Words: 4,307

A/N: This is my first fic I have ever posted on here. I hope I included all the warnings correctly. Not sure if I need to include fingers in mouth, but that happens. Title credit goes to the Misfits. Tagging @gagmebucky and @babybluestan. Thanks for giving me the guts to post this! I am so thankful for you guys.

Masterlist

The bass of Molchat Doma vibrates the walls as you search for Bucky. When you stepped into the goth club on 66th street, you were more nervous than you liked to admit. The club had recently gone under new management and is rumored to be a place for arms trafficking. It is ingenious, actually. Under all the makeup and leather, anyone could hide their identity. Take Bucky for instance. Tight jeans, a black t-shirt, some eyeliner, and a leather jacket down to his calves, Bucky is unnoticeable. Also, helps that the most identifiable thing about him is covered under gloves. Don’t even get started on the leather band and silver chain wrapped around his neck. You need to fan yourself just thinking about it.

You also look quite different from your usual lab coat and safety goggles and Bucky has certainly noticed. He could not keep his hand off your thick fishnet covered thighs the whole way here.

With a kiss to your cheek, Bucky had left you at the bar to check out the area. That had been twenty minutes ago and sadly, people were starting to notice you too.

You felt eyes on you as you mindlessly scrolled through the meme group chat. Peter and Shuri were having an entertaining fight on who sent the best memes. You couldn’t handle the creepy feeling anymore. You were ready to show this creep the pretty switchblade Bucky got you for your birthday. Chin raised, your eyes met with green ones across the bar. You tried to give your best resting bitch face with dead eyes, but he only smirked and took that as his cue to swoop in. You slammed cash on the table for your blood red drink and slipped into the crowd before he could make two steps in your direction. You went down a hallway in the back which led you to your latest predicament. Where the fuck is your thick ass boyfriend?

You have enough PHDs under your belt to know not to yell out Bucky’s name. Searching for his wide frame under the neon lights is the only option you have left as you pass the restrooms. You think finding a 6’2” man would be easy, but apparently, every alternative person wears 5 inch platforms. Not like you can really blame them. If they weren’t so expensive, you’d be Bucky’s height too right now.

As you fill with envy for people that can fit into knee high platforms, an arm wraps around you and yanks you into a unisex bathroom. “It’s me.” Bucky’s deep voice assures before you can even start going through the defense attacks he taught you. You slip out of his hold and turn around to face him. Ignoring the fact Bucky has taken off his jacket and his muscles are now stressing the seams of his long sleeve shirt, you cross your arms.

“Where have you been?”

Bucky blinks confused before finding his answer. “Bugging this two floor building. Why? What’s wrong?” You will tell him sooner or later. Might as well do it now.

“Nothing. It’s just, uh, a skeevy man was staring at me far too long. We made eye contact and he tried coming over.”

“Did he hurt you because I will-” Bucky’s already heading for the door before you squeeze his arm.

“Bucky,” you laugh astounded that he’s so ready to fight for you. You didn’t even give him a description. Bucky lets you pull him back to the center of the room. “I slipped through the crowd before he could try anything. I’m fine.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. I’m fine.” You stand on the tip of your toes to kiss Bucky’s cheek but he turns his head to kiss you instead. He kisses you deeply just long enough to leave you wanting more.

“You still have your knife right?”

“Yes, you dork.” He visibly relaxes at the confirmation. You take a hold of his chin and turn his face towards you. “You do realize you have cut on your cheek right?” It’s not too bad. A medium cut surrounded by bruising. Super serum is probably at work already healing it, but it doesn’t hurt to be careful. It’s not like you’re left with the best of first aid in the bathroom. You head to the sink to wet a paper towel with soap and water.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.” You glare at Bucky through the mirror. “I don’t suggest going three doors down. A couple of guards are sleeping on the clock.” He walks over and cozies up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he kisses your shoulder. “Is that really necessary. I think there’s more pressing matters to attend to.” He rolls his hard on into your ass as he kisses across your shoulder and up your neck.

“Really?” You pry as you wring out the paper towel.

“I have been hard since you walked out in the commons.” Your face gets warmer at his confession. “I mean-” Bucky groans as he looks down at your fishnet covered legs.

“While we’re on the subject, the eyeliner is working for me.” You’ve piqued Bucky’s interest. He meets your eyes through the mirror again. “You should wear it more often. You look so much like-”

“If you say Chase from the Covenant, I’m leaving.” Life drains from his eyes as he speaks.

“Like a man who can get into my pants.”

“Nice save.”

“Anyways, I say fuck it. Let’s do it.” Bucky’s eyes light up with excitement. “But clean the blood off your face first.” Bucky takes the paper towel out of your hands, scrubs the line of dried blood off his cheek, and throws it in the trash can before you can blink. Bucky turns your face to meet his lips not even a second later. He kisses you even deeper than before slipping his tongue in your mouth. You lift your hand to thread through Bucky’s hair. At the feel of your hand in his hair, he breaks away.

“No. No. Keep your hands on the sink. I think this could be fun.” He grabs both of your wrists and places your hands on the edge of the sink. He’s moving your hair off your neck before his lips connect with it. “So pretty, baby. Is this all for me?” He mumbles before placing a hickey on your neck. His hands squeeze your thighs before snaking up your torso and kneading your breasts through your top. Lost in the pleasure only Bucky can give, you assume his question is rhetorical. You learn it wasn’t as he stops his ministrations. “Is this mine?”

You scramble to find your words. “Yeah.” Your voice cracks. “Yes.”

“Good girl.” He looks directly into your eyes through the stickered mirror as he unzips the front of your top. Bucky brings his gloved hand up to your mouth. “Bite,” He mumbles before planting multiple kisses on your neck.

You bite down on his index finger and he pulls his hand away, leaving the glove in your mouth. He quickly takes the glove, stuffing it in his back pocket, before his right hand is kneading one of your bare breasts. You sigh at the feel of his calloused hand on your soft skin. You get a moment to enjoy the feeling until Bucky is lifting his other gloved hand toward your mouth. You get the memo without having to be told. You help tear off his glove for his metal hand and he’s stuffing it in his back pocket again. Instead of going for your other breast, two of Bucky’s metal fingers tap on your bottom lip.

It is not like you to deny him. You take his fingers in his mouth and suck on them, giving them the same attention you’d give his dick. Bucky leaves the growing patch of hickies on your neck to growl at the sight. “Such a fucking tease.” His metal fingers press down on your tongue making you take his fingers deeper. He let’s up when he knows you are about to choke. “Can’t wait to get inside you, but first I want to see you cum on my fingers. Would you like that, honey?” His right hand leaves your chest and plays with the hem of your short skirt.

With his fingers still in your mouth, you nod, widen your stance, and back your ass up into his crotch. He chuckles lowly right next to your ear before his right hand is yanking up your skirt. Your skin tight skirt barely budges with one hand.

“You gotta be kidding me?” Bucky takes his metal hand out of your mouth and uses it to yank up your skirt. You pray to whoever’s listening that your horny boyfriend doesn’t rip your bottoms off. It’d make getting out of the club a lot more messier. “This skirt is annoying me. You’ll just have to be naked for a week to make it up to me.” Thankfully, your skirt moves up your body to bunch at your waist. You don’t have time for a witty retort or to even think about how you were airborne for a second before Bucky is digging his metal fingers into your sex. At the feel of fishnet over wet folds, he pauses. “Wait, are you-”

“Not wearing panties? Yep.”

He lets out the longest groan to date. “You’re gonna kill me.” Bucky tears open a hole in your stockings at the apex of your thighs before massaging and digging into your sex with vengence. “That’s what you’re gonna do. Forget all the highrisks missions. The stupid fucking guards. I’m gonna die because my girlfriend can’t wear a fucking decent pair of underwear.” Bucky groans and he’s… he’s being unfair as two of his thick metal fingers slip into you. He knows how much you love it when he uses his metal hand. Bucky is using it against you to sear his touch into your brain. You throw your head back onto his shoulder as he reaches sensitive depths inside you. His right hand goes back to kneading your chest.

“Wearing panties makes it harder f-for… for you to fuck me. Need to be prepared for your horny ass 24/7.” You pant in between words. Bucky raises an unimpressed eyebrow. The speed of his pumping fingers quicken to the point where the both of you can hear how wet you are over the distant music. “W-when are you not… horny?”

“I’m not even going to entertain you with an answer when I have this wet pussy to play with. ‘Sides, I’m not the one who sounds horny right now. “ Bucky’s metal thumb rubs your clit. “I’m not the one desperate enough for my boyfriend’s cock that I'll spread my legs in a public bathroom. Honestly, you just went with it? No second thoughts?” You’re too overwhelmed with pleasure to even bother a response. Bucky clicks his tongue. “That’s not good girl behavior. More like slutty behavior.” Bucky’s eyes light up with an idea. “Be a good slut and cum for me.”

“Bucky,” you gasp pleadingly.

“C’mon, you heard me. Cum for me. It’s the least you can do.” He’s sucking on a pulse point on your neck when you go rigid underneath him. You cry out as you reach your euphoric high.

“God damnit, you’re so gorgeous when you cum.” Bucky makes you feel the full effect of your orgasm as he continues to pump his fingers and rub your clit. You have to practically tear his metal arm off you to get peace. Both of his hands leave you and you can hear the tell tale sound of his pants being undone.

You get a small amount of reprieve before Bucky is rubbing his dick through your drenched folds. His thick cock stimulating your sensitive nerves. Bucky’s steel toed boot nudges your stance wider and he’s dipping into your entrance just enough for you to start to feel the intoxicating stretch of him. You’re arching your back at the burn when he pulls out suddenly. You sputter as you try to find your words.

“I don’t think you really want my cock.” He goes back to spreading your folds over his cock. The tip runs across your sensitive, overworked clit every once in a while.

“I’m literally on display for your fucking dick right now.”

“Then say it.” Bucky nuzzles your neck and blows cool air on the patch of hickies.

“Bucky, please fuck me. I’ve been wet since you mentioned you had to wear a leather jacket. Let me have it.”

Bucky snorts at that. “My sweet slut. Always so ready and willing for my cock.”

“Only a s-slut-” Bucky slides into you slowly making you feel every massive inch of him “- f-for you.” You whimper at the feel of him as your back arches. You're trapped in between Bucky and the sink. No choice but to feel all of him.

Bucky rumbles right against your back. “My own little whore. I like the sound of that.” He tests the waters by thrusting shallow. You’re convulsing around his cock. It always takes a few to get used to the initial stretch. He groans. “Always so fucking tight. My own personal heaven.” He hasn’t been able to stop his little thrusts, addicted to the feel of you.

“B-Bucky,” you gasp strained. “P-please, move. Do something.”

“Look at you so desperate for my cock. I love it. Such a good whore.” He pulls out and you could cry until he’s thrusting back in, knocking the wind out of you. You gasp, collecting enough air for him to knock it out of you again. Again. And again. It’s not before long, Bucky is setting a brutal pace and all you can do is take it. You are going lax as the pleasure makes your extremities tingly. Bucky is pretty much the only thing holding you up as he brings three of his right fingers towards your mouth. He doesn’t even have to tap on your lips. You open your mouth for him to slip his fingers inside and suck on them. Bucky’s eyes zero in on your pretty lips wrapped around his fingers.

“What a good slut. Such a good girl. I love you so much.” His metal hand gently wraps around the base of your neck. His index finger and thumb stroke the skin right underneath your choker causing goosebumps to break out. “This looks so pretty on you, baby.” He kisses the spot your jawline and neck connect before continuing. “I think we both know how much better my hand is wrapped around your neck though.” He gives a light squeeze, slightly cutting off your blood flow, and grins at you. A broken moan leaves you as drool pools around his fingers starting to drip down his hand and your chin. “So fucking stunning. Should have got out my phone before we started.”

A light, airy feeling starts to creep into your head, kind of like your floating. Bucky’s pace never lets up and you’re close. So, so close. A few more thrusts and Bucky is reaching new depths. You’re knuckles strain as you grip the sink hard.

“Shit.” He grunts. His fingers press down on your tongue not give a fuck if you gag. Your eyes widen as his warmth floods you. Bucky’s pace slows and he’s pumping his hips shallowly while he cums.

As much as you love the bare feel of him, you’re pissed. You were so close to an orgasm and he stopped. It was without clittoral stimulation too. It was gonna be groundbreaking. You actually gag on the pressure of his fingers down your throat and smack his wet wrist. He quickly takes his fingers out of your mouth and apologizes. You can’t believe you're stomping your foot while still on your boyfriend’s dick, but there’s a first for everything. You’re actually pouting as you cross your arms over your bare chest and jut out your lower lip.

“Bucky!” You wait for him to take his eyes off your ass and meet yours through the mirror.

He smacks your ass, squeezes it, and hums, mildly distracted. “Yeah?” He glances up and does a double take. “You’re pissed?”

“Uh yeah. Do you know how close I was before you ruined it? I-” Bucky takes his hand off your throat and uses both to dig his thumbs in the dip of your back as he shushes you.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’ll make it up to you.” You’re frustrated and slightly on edge when Bucky slowly pulls out. “Don’t get more upset, but that was literally the hottest thing we’ve done. You have never looked hotter.”

“Why would I get upset when I feel the same.” You begrudgingly agree.

“Oh my god, you’re gonna hold not letting you come against me. You’re such a baby.” You open your mouth to defend yourself, but Bucky turns you around and lifts you on to the edge of the sink before you can start. Butterflies erupt in your stomach at that manhandling and you ignore it. While you avoid his eyes and glare at the wall over his shoulder, he wipes some of the drool off your chin. You melt on the inside and try not to show it. If you look in his eyes, you’re going to forgive him. If you look into his eyes, you’re going to forgive him. “This is ridiculous. When have I ever left you hanging? Don’t you think maybe I had a plan?” Your eyes slowly slide over to his. His eyes, still darkened by lust, bore into you. “I don’t want to see you cum on my cock through the mirror. I want you to face me, eyes rolled back, mouth gaping as I repeatedly reach all the sensitive spots inside you.”

“You’re the one that’s the fucking tease.” You smack his broad chest. He takes your hand and kisses each knuckle. His hand then goes to knead your thighs dangling off the edge.

“So, what do you say? Second round?”

“I can’t believe I am saying this, but I’m sexually frustrated and still slightly mad. Fuck me before someone comes in.” He wedges himself between your thick thighs. Bucky leans down to kiss you and you thread your fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck, happy to get to touch him. He eventually stops kneading your thighs, just feeling the texture of the mesh stretched across your skin.

Bucky groans as you nip at his lips when he pulls away. His head drops down and shakes it in disbelief. “You need to wear these more often.” He looks very serious at you and you would snicker if you weren’t about to fuck. You do smirk at him though and swirl his hair between your fingers.

“You gonna fuck me in public more often if I do?” You wipe some of your burgundy lipstick off the edge of his bottom lip as you ask.

Bucky’s Adam’s apple bobs as he gulps. “I-is that what you want?” He’s grabbing your ass and pulling you closer to the edge. You can feel his hardening cock against your hip. You’re so close to Bucky, you lean in just a few inches to press your chest against his and whisper sultry in his ear.

“I am constantly ready for your cock. Twenty four seven. Name a place and I’ll spread my legs. So fucking big. Feels so damn good.” You kiss right underneath his ear and then move a few inches down to suck hickey on a soft spot of his neck. With super soldier recovery rate, it won’t last long, but it sure does rile him up. He moans and it echoes off the linoleum poster covered walls. You love the vibrations underneath your lips as he tilts his head to the other side. You know his eyes are fluttering as you can’t help but to give him a few others hickies next to it.

You lean back to admire your handiwork. Purple blotches litter his neck in between smudges of burgundy lipstick. You’re pretty sure you’ve wiped off all your lipstick on Bucky. His blown out pupils watch you like a hawk, hands digging into your ass. He’s rubbing his hard on into the crease of your stomach and thighs and he doesn’t even know it. “C’mon, I want to feel the ache of you tomorrow. Fuck me like the whore that I am.” You feel a chill run down his spine before he finally takes action.

He rolls up his sleeves and of course, because your chest is now facing him, he needs to leave a few hickies on them. As he guides his dick to your entrance, you wrap your legs around his waist. Bucky momentarily ceases the hickies to watch your puffy folds easily accept his wide cock. Both of you are groaning at the feeling.

“Your pussy’s so wet for me. Fuck.” Bucky’s too turned for a filter. You keep your edging comment to yourself and kiss his sweaty temple. The edging thoughts stewing inside are knocked out of you as Bucky fingers trace the place you two are joined. He uses the excess of your combined wetness to rub your clit. Pleasure makes your toes curl.

“Not what I meant when I said fuck me, Bastard.” You can’t get Bucky to move his hips without falling on your ass. He seems perfectly fine to have you warm his hard dick as he kisses and leaves hickies along your collar bones. Your free hand grabs his bicep and you’re close to coming already.

“Yeah. Your bastard.” You can feel him grin against your skin. You’d comment if you weren’t about to cum.

“C-close. Please don’t stop.” You gasp out, begging as the rise of your orgasm hits. You’re squeezing Bucky while in your peak. He almost groans as loud as you’re moaning.

“You’re so gorgeous. Love when you convulse around my cock, honey.” He kisses your cheek momentarily before going back down to your chest. He starts pumping his cock in and out of you. This time literally knocking the wind out of you. You’re oversensitive from your orgasm and he never truly let you come down from it. Bucky is certainly making his promise. You’ll feel him in your guts for the next few days. Your hands run through his hair and pull on the ends. His mouth finally detaches from your chest as he moves with your hand. He lets out a full blown out moan that makes your heart pound. Bucky always lets out the filthiest moans when you pull his hair. You fucking love it. His metal hand leaves your ass. He grabs a hold of the edge of the sink as he pace picks up.

As much as you love filling all your wet dreams with the hottest audio ever, you don’t have the strength to keep your arm up for long. Your hand drops to his back. His muscles ripple underneath your fingertips as you dig your nails into his back. Both of you panting into each other's ear. Your legs shake at the approaching orgasm.

“I know you’re close. Be a good whore. Cum on my cock. I’ll wait for you.” He rubs your clit even faster.

“FUCK.” You’ve never been happier for loud music blasting through the club’s speakers. An intense orgasm takes over you. White dots fill your vision as tears collect at your waterline. With how hard your gripping his cock, Bucky isn’t far behind. He can only get in a few more thrusts before he’s cumming again. He bites into your shoulder and groans. Shivers wreck down your spine as his warmth fills you for the second time tonight. Bucky lets the sink carry his weight as he grips it hard.

There’s a groaning protest before a chunk of the sink falls off. You’re there to block him from falling. He pulls out and moves you closer to the other edge, away from the crime scene. You look over your shoulder. Thankfully, he didn’t break off any of the major plumbing parts. Water spraying everywhere would make looking yourself presentable a lot more harder, but maybe that could have been your excuse. Oh well.

You turn back to Bucky. He’s still holding on to the broken piece of sink. Both of you break out into giggles as he throws it in the trash.

“I can’t believe you did that.” You’re grinning ear to ear as he tucks himself back into his boxers.

“I can.” Bucky shrugs. “I don’t think you get how tight you get when you cum. Me breaking things during sex is not new.”

“My back. Our nice bed frame. The ottoman in the commons… Can’t forget the multiple tables. Shout out to Tony’s dented Acura hood.” You pull Bucky’s shirt to get him closer to you. You kiss him before he speaks. “Are you trying to seduce me?”

“If you fuck me again, there won’t be a sink left.”

He hums and rubs your thighs. He’s definitely addicted to the feel of the fishnets stockings. Good luck trying to get his hands off you for the rest of the day. “You have a point.” He drops to his knees.

“What are you doing?” He’s spreading your thighs wide in front of his face.

“I can’t let my cum drip down your legs out there. That would be irresponsible of me.” That's all the explanation you get before he’s burying his face in between your legs, stubble scratching your inner thighs. You gasp as he licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit. Fuck what he said. You’re the one that’s gonna die. Bucky is truly your horny bastard.

#time for the tags #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky/ reader #bucky barnes/ reader #bucky barnes/you #bucky barnes smut #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #my writing #almost made the club on 666th street #seemed too much tho #marvel smut #goth!bucky

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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glassartpeasants · 4 years

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Silver Serpent

Naga!Chronostasis/ Hari Kurono x F!Reader

Warnings: Double penetration, Monster fucking, dub con, biting, death, aphrodisiac, breeding,

A/N: You guys have no idea how much i look forward to writing for Chronostasis, man doesn’t get enough love <3

@zuffer-weird-girl @hello-lucky-luka @babayaga67

~~~

The hissing sounds that the creature made seemed to be whispering all around you. You knew he knew where you were but he was just trying to scare you for his own sick gain. But boy was it fucking working. You would zip your head back and forth, back and forth trying to get any sort of glimpse of the silver scaled creature. It shouldn’t be that difficult to stop him considering the way his scales glistened when the moonlight hit it.

Chrono was a favorite among the monsters since everyone complimented him on how beautiful his scales where. They looked like diamonds whenever a light hit them. Which eventually lead to the scientist taking off some of his scales to sell.

When you figured that out you were furious! If they thought he was so beautiful when in the ever loving hell would they take off his scales. You screamed at the head scientist before going to Chrono’s cage with a hot wet rag and a bucket of water along with other things.

You had sedated him in case he charged at you when you were fixing up his scales. Once you stepped inside the room you were filled with the sound of hissing. Not that you could blame the poor thing. Getting his scales tipped off by humans must be painful.

“Hey hey hey, shush its okay. I’m just here to fix your tail and try to help it heal. Can i show you please?” You showed him your supplies before slowly going towards his tail. You trace your hand down his tail before feeling around, finding all of his missing scales.

“Your such a beautiful creature Chrono, can’t believe they’re hurting you like this.” You place the hot rag on his wound while slowly caressing it. You cleaned out the dirt that was hidden under his scales. You looked up at him and you saw him staring right back at you.

Before you knew it his tail was even shinier than before. You went to ask him if he was happy when you feel yourself getting wrapped by his tail. You gasp out before he whipped you over to him bring you face to face. He stuck his tongue out at you before biting into your neck with his fangs. You figured that he was pumping you full of venom but you soon realized that it was a different sort of venom after you felt your body get hot.

He dropped you and and watched you walk away quickly covering your face in embarrassment as you skin felt hot. You walked out quickly and completely forgetting to lock his caged door.

Chrono slithered out of his cage and into the hallways, cutting any scientist that were in his way to follow you. He left a trail of dead bodies with cuts that littered their bodies. He stuck his tongue out and smelled you walking out the facility. He unlocked the other monsters cages telling them to quickly leave with their mates while he was going to finally burn this place to the ground. They all gave a confirmed nod grabbing their mates and children and ran away from the facility.

Chrono slithered faster down the hallways before going into the gas pressure room. He unlocked the door with the claws that adorned his fingers and pushed it open. He quickly grabbed the wheel and twisted it all the way before slithering all the way towards the door.

He had managed to far enough away to see and hear the facility blow up. Fire covering the walls as it was crumbling to pieces the longer he stared at it. He let out a proud hiss before going on his way to find you.

This lead to where you were now hiding behind a tree while your whole body shook with painful pleasure. You were rubbing your thighs together trying to get some friction to your throbbing clit. Your shirt and pants were off because of your body being to hot to have them on. Your panties getting wet from all the slick that was growing down there.

You knew what he wanted. He wanted you to submit and beg for him to fuck you. He wanted to see you crumble under his touch. But a monster could only hold out for so long before it goes completely feral. But thankfully for him, your will was weaker.

“F-fine! I can’t take it anymore! Please Please!” You call out to him, begging him to just get on with it. You soon hear a rustle of leaves before getting lifted up into the air. You opened you lidded eyes and saw the beautiful serpent that held you captive.

“Thank you~” He hissed in a seductive tone. Your eyes widened. None of the other monsters really talked so hearing him talk was a surprise. You couldn’t help but look into his eyes as they seem to be hypnotizing. You felt a clawed hand grab your face before you felt his lips pressed against you neck, giving it little nibbles. You shiver at the contact as your legs were pushed apart a bit by the end of his tail. Your hands ran up his chest and into his hair making him shiver a bit.

His tail soon started to rub against your clit on the outside of your panties. You moan a bit and whimper into his ear. His nibbles got more rougher the more you whimper and moan from him rubbing his tail against you. You let out a loud moan when you felt him slowly pushing the tip of his tail in.

“Sounds like you like that.” You shiver as he whispers in your ear. He chuckles as he sees you clutch onto his hair and press your body further into his.

His tail slowly starts to push itself in and out, in and out at a slow pace making you feel every scale that went into you. His clawed hands ripped off your bra before taking one into his mouth. You whined while petting his head in encouragement, enjoy the stimulation your cunt and breasts were receiving. The feeling of his tongue swirling around your nipple made you clench down around his tail making him let out a grunt.

Oh how he couldn’t wait to absolutely wreck you. Watch you crumble in his arms as he destroys your cunt so much that it will only know the shape of his cock. He was just waiting for the moment he would be able to bury himself in your tight cunt and watch as you take his eggs and be his little human incubator. Oh how hot you would look pregnant with his little hatchlings (thats the name for baby snakes). Oh he got so hard thinking about you being so pumped full that if he were to press a little on your tummy that some of his cum would pour out of your cunt.

His tail started to jack hammer your cunt hitting all the right spots all the while wiggling it everywhere. You let out little cries of pleasure as you try to bounce yourself harder on his tail. Water was glossing over your eyes and before you knew it you let out a scream and came all over his tail. Your body goes limp a bit before getting hot all over again. The aphrodisiac hitting harder then even before making your cry out to Chrono begging him to fill you up till you couldn’t take it anymore.

Watching you beg him to breed you was so hot for Chrono that he let his cocks coming out of his sheaths. You look down a bit before seeing both of his cocks rubbing against your cunt making him let out a groan. He moved around a bit before you felt both of your entrances be prodded at.

He pushed it in quickly making you scream and claw at his back. Leaving marks all over his back. Grabbing your hips he started to thrust into you. You felt so full that all you could do was moan. You try bucking your hips into him only for him to grab your waist and his at you.

“You want me to go faster my little mouse? Want me to pound your holes until your begging me to slow down? Want me to fill you up so full that your guaranteed to get pregnant?” He said to you that made your cunt throb at the thought of being used as a cum dump. The thoughts of him pounding into you made you wrap your legs around his scaled waist.

“Please! Please go faster! Fuck me until i can’t walk! Breed me please! I need you-AH!” You were cut short by the feeling of his hips snapping against your own. His cocks hitting all the right spots inside you. You felt so good being used like this. Having your monster fill up both of your holes mad you feel so full. Your body twitched with every pound your cunt and ass received.

The feeling of your warm walls surrounding both of his cocks made his cock twitch in excitement. He could feel your cervix with every thrust he gave your cunt. Your ass and pussy was so tight it felt like it was trying to keep him i there forever, hey he wouldn’t mind it. He wrapped his arms around your waist before biting into your shoulder and grunting.

Your fingers grip his hair harshly, tugging on it every time he hit that special spot. You cry out in the upmost pleasure with tears falling from your eyes.His fingers were digging into your ass cheeks, drawing blood as his claws sunk into your skin. Your legs twitched harshly before you let out a scream as you came all over Chrono’s cock. Drool poured out from your lips as you let your head fall onto his shoulder.

“Mine. Mine. Mine.” Chrono mumbled as he picked up the pace. His cock started to throb as he felt his eggs slowly coming up from his cock. He let out a few more thrusts before fully pushing the tip of his cock in your womb and letting his eggs fill up your womb. Since he had two cocks he tried to push eggs into your ass as well.

Chrono let out a hiss as he felt his entire cock be milked by your cunt. Draining him dry as he fertilized his eggs. His seed painting your walls white and filling up your entire womb and ass. His cum came in rivers it felt like as you’ve never felt so full in your life.

He pulled out of your cunt and let his cocks go back into his sheath. Using his tail he lifted you up so your unt was close to his face. He smiled when he saw his cum drip down his legs since your holes couldn’t fit all of it. He pressed on your tummy a bit and saw a little bit coming out as well.

“Looks like your nice and stuffed my little mouse. But don’t worry, the funs not over yet since there’s another hole that i wanna stuff~”

#chronostasis #hari kurono #hari kurono x reader #kurono hari x reader #kurono hari #shie hassaikai #chronostasis x reader #monstober #monster fucking

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of-a-chaotic-mind · 3 years

Text

Infection & Affection

Summary: Dean and Reader hole up in an abandoned house as a storm starts raging. The Readers stab wound soon becomes infected which leads to Reader and Dean admitting their feelings for each other.

TW/CW: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader. Reader gets stabbed and the wound gets infected.

Requested?: Yes, a lovely Anon said, “Heey love, I was wondering if I can please request a dean x reader angsty one shot where they both gets stuck in the middle of nowhere because of a storm or something and the reader is already injured because of the hunt then her stab wound gets badly infected and she is running an extremely high fever. Dean is doing everything he can to keep her alive and he's panicking and scared of losing her without telling her how he feels. Can it pleaaase have a fluffy ending??”

Word Count: 1,010

A/N: Y’all seem to like the Reader in peril imagines lol. I don’t blame you tho XD. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this. Requests are open and as always love to all!! P.S. this title is kind of stupid but it was the only thing I could think of lol.

Your POV

A flash of lightning illuminates the area as Dean and I stumble onto the porch of an old, abandoned house and out of the rain. He kicks the door open and we make our way inside. The house is mostly empty aside from a worn and weary couch, some old busted up kitchen appliances and counters, and a rickety, wooden table with two chairs. He helps me sit down on the couch before kneeling down on the floor beside me to dig through our backpacks in search of medical supplies. He finally finds some things that will work and motions for me to lift my shirt for him to tend to my stab wound.

Dean is silent as he works. I can see many emotions flashing across his face but it’s hard to actually keep up with them as my head spins from blood loss. It feels like it takes forever until he finally finishes off the wrap around my waist even though I know it was only a matter of minutes. He stands and limps across the small room to drop our backpacks onto the table and dig through again for water and food. He brings me a bottle and a protein bar before setting to work on setting up defenses like salt, a devil’s trap, and then placing himself at the window to keep watch.

“Dean,” I call out, causing him to rush over to check on me, “No, I’m fine but you need to wrap your leg.”

He waves me off and turns back to look out the window, “I’m fine. Get some rest. This storm doesn’t look like it’ll pass anytime soon.”

I sigh deeply but make myself as comfortable as possible on the couch to try to get some sleep. I can already feel my energy draining fast and I’ll need as much as possible once we can leave this house. My sleep is dreamless but sleep nonetheless. When I wake up sometime later, the storm is still raging outside as I tug off my jacket and flannel, leaving me in a black t-shirt. I chug down the rest of my water as Dean takes notice of me waking up and makes his way over to me. As soon as he places his hand on my arm, a serious look of concern crosses his features, “(Y/n), you’re burning up. Lay back down, I’m getting you some Tylenol.”

He rushes over to get the aforementioned medicine and another bottle of water from our backpacks before returning to my side, his facial expression now overcome with worry. He hands me the bottle and medicine so I sit up to take it before laying back down. I can’t stop the shivering that begins to shake through my body. Despite the sleep I had gotten, my body still feels extremely weak and achy. Dean pulls himself away from checking the signal on his cell phone, “Sit up for a second. I’m going to check your wound.”

“How long was I out for,” I ask as I sit up.

“About 45 minutes,” he answers as he sets to work unwrapping my bandage. When he peels away the layer closest to my skin, he grumbles under his breath, “Damn it.”

“What?” I inquire, even though I have an idea of what it is.

“It’s getting infected,” he responds as he cleans my wound once again and rewraps it. I lay back down once he finishes with it and begins pacing back and forth across the room. Running his hands through his hair over and over again, he starts mumbling to himself.

I can only stand the pacing for a few moments before I have to tell him, “Dean, please stop pacing.”

He returns to my side and drops down to the floor to sit with his back against the couch, dropping his head into his hands. I place my hand on his shoulder in efforts to help him calm down, “What’s going through your head?” He mumbles something and I chuckle, “Gonna have to speak up, Dean.”

“I’m scared that I’m about to lose you, okay?” he spits out as he gets up off the floor and begins pacing again. I struggle as I sit up to watch him.

“Dean, I’m a hunter for fuck’s sake. I’ll be damned if I'm gonna die to an infection,” I respond.

“That’s just it. I could lose you at any moment because we’re hunters and that’s how hunters go out, suddenly,” he replies rather loudly.

“Dean, everyone dies at some point. Not all of us are going to come back repeatedly like you and Sam either. You’re gonna have to come to terms with that one day,” I inform him quietly.

He sighs, “You don’t think I know that? I know that there’s an end of every road. I just,” he pauses and stares at me, “there’s something that I want to tell you before I lose you one day but I’m too fucking scared that you won’t feel the same way.”

I tilt my head getting the hint, “Why don’t you try me then?”

He turns back around to stare out the window for a few moments before responding, “I’m in love with you.”

I barely heard him but I know he said what I think he did. I get up carefully and cross the room to wrap my arms around his waist and hug him from behind, “What made you think I wouldn’t feel the same way?” It’s quiet for a few minutes before I continue, “because I do. The feeling is mutual.”

He drops his head against the wall and lets out a breath of relief, “You don’t know how happy I am to hear that.”

Chuckling, I look out the window and notice that the sky is starting to clear up, “Looks like this storm is blowing on through.”

He looks up and out the window as well, “Good, maybe then I can get my girlfriend to the hospital.”

I smile, “Girlfriend... I like the sound of that.”

Masterlist

Taglist: @emiijemii @akshi8278 @deandaydreaming @castiels-majestic-wings @desimarie12

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester imagines #dean winchester oneshot #dean winchester oneshots #supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural imagines #supernatural oneshot #supernatural oneshots

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star-spangled-steve · 4 years

Text

His New Partner

Chapter 45: The Kiss For Good Luck

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: 2461

Warnings: Smut, vaginal sex, oral sex, fingering, nudity, Daddy!Kink, light Dom!Steve, sub!Reader, bathing together, pregnancy, cussing.

A/N: Thank you guys so much for 1500 followers! I am so grateful for your support. I haven’t written smut in a while so I hope this turned out okay!

The bath water was the perfect combination of warm and bubbly as the couple sat in it, Y/N’s back to Steve’s muscular chest. His large hands were resting on her medium-sized baby belly, her own hands over top of his, delicately playing with his fingers every now and then.

The woman tried not to stress about the events of the next day, tried to let the hot bath soothe her into a state of mental relaxation, but her brain would just not stop thinking about it. About the mission that her husband would be going on tomorrow. The time travel mission.

“You feeling nervous?” It was almost as if Steve had read her mind as he asked her the question, and he could tell that he was correct by the tiny sigh that she let out.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?” Y/N retorted. After all, it was him going on the mission, not her.

The man gave her a short chuckle. “Not when I know how anxious you can get about these things. Especially now.” He added, softly patting her belly.

“I mean...” his wife puffed out a breath, letting her head fall back against his shoulder, “I am kind of nervous, yeah. Can you even blame me, though? This is time travel, Steve. It’s not like you’ve ever done anything like this before. In fact, over a week ago we didn’t even know this was possible!”

“I know, sweetie.” Steve spoke, hoping that he could reassure her in any way. “But the way I think about, we have some of the best and the brightest minds in the world who helped make this possible. You think Tony and Bruce would have us going there if it wasn’t safe?”

Y/N hummed. “I guess not. You really aren’t sacred, though? Not at all?”

“Well,” the man pondered her question for a moment before answering, “after all that we’ve been through, I can’t help but think that we’re going to be okay this time. I just have this gut feeling that we’re finally going to win, you know? It’s what we deserve.”

A smile began to form on the woman’s face, her husband’s optimism never failing to make her feel a bit better. “I like the way you’re thinking.” She remarked before slightly turning her body to face him. “You just have to promise me that you’re going to return safely.”

“Of course, angel.”

Before Steve knew it, his wife was sticking out her pinky finger, something that she always did when she wanted to him to keep his word. He instantly began to laugh, and a small pout formed on Y/N’s lips. “Why are you laughing?” She practically whined. “You have to pinky promise me or else it doesn’t count.”

The man chuckled once again at her adorableness, before giving in and linking her pinky with his own. “There.” He spoke with an almost teasing smile, bringing their pinkies to his mouth and pressing a gentle kiss onto the back of hers. “It’s sealed.”

Y/N grinned before slowly leaning in and pressing her mouth against his own, separating their fingers so that she could put her hands on his smooth jaw. “Yay.” She giggled when they separated.

Steve’s pupils began to dilate with lust, his wife being naked, soapy, pregnant, and kissing him almost too much to handle. “What do you say, little lady, that we distract ourselves by having some... ‘playtime’, as you like to call it? Take our minds off of all this mission stuff, yeah?”

“You’re volunteering to not be focused on a mission?” Y/N questioned playfully. “Who are you and what did you do with my husband?”

The man chuckled, though he was beginning to grow impatient. “Come on, baby. I know you want it.”

“Well of course I do.” His wife agreed, and that was all of the consent he needed. He immediately sent a strong smack onto the side of her ass, making Y/N jolt at the feeling. “Stevie!” She squealed.

“I want you to get out of the tub, dry yourself off, and be on your hands and knees on the bed by the time I get over there.” His tone left no room for argument, and the woman nodded her head, moving to do exactly as he asked. She was so quick to submit to him and it made Steve smirk. “Good girl.”

Y/N wrapped herself in a towel and headed to their bedroom, which was connected to the washroom that they were in. The man drained the tub and quickly dried himself off, seeing his wife exactly where he had asked her to be when he finally walked into their room.

The woman was on all fours, ass up in the air, and Steve had to stop himself from drooling. “Nice job, sweetheart.” He praised, his voice alerting his wife of his presence. “You’re such a good listener.”

Before Y/N even knew that he was behind her, the man was pressing small kisses down her spine, leading all the way until the top of her ass. He pressed one kiss on each cheek and it made her giggle. “Stevie, that tickles.”

Instead of verbally giving her a response, Steve just pressed his next kiss to her body, this time it being right on top of her folds that were glistening with arousal.

Y/N whined. “Please.”

“‘Please’ what?” The man taunted, finding pleasure in seeing her desperate for the thing that only he could give her. “Use your words, baby girl.”

“More, please.” She begged. “Use your mouth more.”

Steve snickered before quickly lapping once at her womanhood, just enough to tease her. “Like this?”

Y/N nodded her head eagerly, but very soon realized that wasn’t enough of an answer for her husband as he sent a harsh spank to her ass. “Ah!” She cried out.

“Didn’t I just tell you to use your words?” The man asked, his voice sharp and demanding. He had originally planned on being gentle with her tonight, but knew that deep down that’s not what she wanted to happen. Y/N, especially pregnant and overly horny Y/N, liked to be dominated. Steve was here to deliver. Plus, he very much enjoyed his role in this too.

“Yes, I’m sorry.” The woman spoke. “Please keep going.”

Without another word, Steve continued to lap at her pussy, taking his sweet time and savouring his favourite taste in the world. He inserted a finger into her opening and grinned in satisfaction as she mewled, adding another one in order to prepare her for his large size. “You taste so good, little doll.” He uttered before moving his mouth to her clit, sucking on it gently.

“Oh, god.” Y/N moaned in delight, her toes curling. “St-Stevie, I-I’m close.” It was getting difficult to hold herself up as she was shaking with pleasure, but the woman pulled through, knowing that she would get punished if she didn’t.

“Do it, princess. Cum for me.” The man ordered while curling his fingers to meet that special spot inside of her, his tongue still toying with her clit.

With a loud whine, Y/N let go and released, gushing all over her husband’s mouth. He gladly licked up every drop, smirking to himself at how fucked-out she looked, still trying to hold herself up.

“It’s okay, baby. You can relax.” Steve cooed, licking the remainder of her juices off of his fingers.

His wife nodded at his words before crashing to the bed, still panting breathlessly. She felt him softly grab her and turn her over so that she was on her back, and she stared up at him with a cute grin on her face.

“What’s got you all smiley?” Steve questioned, adoring how beautiful she looked in the moment.

Y/N giggled, the atmosphere in the room suddenly turning from raw and passionate to sweet and loving. “You.”

The man let out a chuckle, his expression now matching her own. He lowered himself so that he was hovering overtop of her, supporting his weight with his arms in order to be careful of her baby belly. “I love you.” He said quietly, his lips so close to Y/N’s own that they practically brushed as he spoke.

The woman looked up at him sweetly, wrapping her arms around his neck and running her fingers through the short hairs on the back of his head. “I love you too.”

Steve brought a hand down to position himself up with her entrance, groaning as he pushed into her tight hole. “Goddamn.”

“Stevie.” Y/N sighed out in ecstasy. He gave her a moment to adjust to his size before she was nodding her head, urging him to begin moving.

The Captain pulled out almost all the way before shoving back in, starting a pattern of sharp and deep thrusts. He knew exactly how to work himself to make his wife go crazy, and it was obviously working by the way she was clenching around him so hard.

“I-It feels so good, honey.” She spoke in between pants of breath, her fingernails digging into his shoulders so hard that she was certain there’d be red crescent moon shapes left behind on his skin. They’d be gone in less than an hour, though, due to his super soldier healing.

“I know, baby.” Steve grunted in her ear before moving his mouth to connect with her own, their kisses quickly turning rough and hungry. His tongue was attacking her own, her not even trying to fight for dominance, knowing that he’d win. He always won, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

His lips separated from her own to trail down the side of her neck, stopping where her neck met her shoulder and giving extra attention there. He knew every sensitive spot on her body like the back of his hand, and was always amazed at how reactive she was to his touches.

“St-Steve,” Y/N mewled as his thrusts only got harder, “I’m close.” She wrapped her legs around his waist, the new angle making him hit even deeper inside of her. “C-Cum with me.” She insisted.

The man removed his face from her neck to look her in the eyes, giving her a little smug smile. “Yeah? You like it when I cum inside you?”

The woman nodded eagerly. “Yes. Please.”

Steve almost chucked at how desperate she was. “Well, you want me to cum with you, then you gotta’ say it, babydoll. Come on, Y/N, you know what I’m talking about. Say it.”

“Daddy.”

“Fuck.” The man groaned, that word having such a huge effect on him even after all these years.

“Daddy, please cum inside me.” Y/N continued, being so close to the edge herself. “Please. Please, fill me up, daddy.”

Steve felt himself faltering at her last statement, and knew that it wouldn’t be long before he was finishing. “Good girl, N/N. You’re so good for daddy.” He brought a hand down to her clit, rubbing fast circles around it. He watched as his wife arched her back and felt as she clenched around him hard, knowing that she was about to release. “Cum, little girl. Now.” He demanded, and within a couple seconds she was going exactly as he said, the dam bursting inside of her.

“Oh, god.” She moaned out.

Y/N’s orgasm triggered Steve’s own, his seed spurting inside of her powerfully as he grunted. “Dammit, princess.”

The couple laid there panting for a moment before the man pulled out, making his wife, who was a little over five months pregnant at this point, whine at the loss of contact. “Stevie.”

“One second, sweet girl.” He cooed, “I’m just going to clean you up.” He went into their en-suite bathroom and returned with a wet washcloth, using it to clean the inside of her thighs and around her pussy. Steve then cleaned himself up quickly, going back into the washroom to grab Y/N’s lotion.

“Honey, you don’t have to do that.” The woman spoke, watching as he opened the container and took some of the lotion in his hands.

“Yes I do.” Steve stated, and she knew that once he was set on something, he wouldn’t let it go. He rubbed lotion all over her stomach, back, and bum, before tucking the both of them underneath the covers to go to bed.

“I love you, darling.” Y/N murmured, almost passed out already.

The man, who was spooning her, pressed a small kiss to her shoulder and smiled to himself. “I love the both of you.” His hand rubbed up and down her belly, trying his best to lull his girl, and his other girl inside of her, into a peaceful sleep. “And don’t you worry, doll. Daddy’s gonna’ come back home safe and sound.”

*****

“You’re sure you’re going to be okay, right?” Steve asked as he grabbed his keys, making his way to the front door.

Y/N laughed as she followed him, crossing her arms over her chest. “Once again, shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?”

“Not when you’re pregnant.” The man insisted. “I worry about you when you’re alone now.”

“Now?” She raised her eyebrows.

“Okay, maybe for the last eleven years we’ve known each other too.”

The woman giggled at him, secretly loving how protective he was over her. “I don’t even care about me right now. I’m just worried about you, hon.” She told him honestly, wrapping her arms around his neck while his hands moved to rest on her waist.

“Trust me, baby; I’ve already told you, everything is going to work out okay. We pinky promised, remember?” He spoke, trying to cheer her up and make her less anxious.

Y/N nodded, refusing to meet his eyes as she felt tears coming.

Steve cupped her chin and nudged her head up, frowning as he saw her quivering bottom lip and watery eyes. “It’s going to be alright, sweetheart.”

She nodded again, her emotions making her unable to form any words. Damn pregnancy hormones.

“Can I at least get a kiss for good luck?” The man questioned, hoping to lighten the mood.

Y/N smiled briefly before stepping up on her tippy toes, giving him a loving and chaste kiss. “There.” She said when they broke the kiss. “Now go be the hero I know you are.”

Steve, knowing how much it took for her to say that, gave her a small grin. “I will.”

The couple stepped apart and he opened the door, giving her one last glance before he left.

“Love you, dollface.”

Y/N gulped, trying to keep the remainder of her tears at bay. “Love you too, Stevie.”

And with that he was off. Off to complete the mission that could change their future forever.

Next Chapter

Feedback is always welcome!❤️

#steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #chris evans x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n

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nalgenewhore · 4 years

Text

A rogue storm had her presumed dead and stranded on the red planet. Left on her own, astronaut Aelin Galathynius has four years to make it to the next drop-site, some two thousand miles. Armed with her smarts and dwindling supplies, Aelin attempts to survive on an inhospitable planet, when the nearest help is only millions of miles away.

masterlist - ao3 - last chapter - next chapter

an: we really getting into now hehe

+*+*+*+*+*+*

The military cemetery thirty minutes outside Orynth was cold and bleak, fitting for the day.

Everyone in attendance was staring at the empty casket being lowered into the hole dug into the frozen ground of early January. Weylan shuffled his notes, clearing his throat before speaking, “Our space program was lucky to have an astronaut like Aelin Galathynius. She gave her life to this program and will be sorely missed. Her sacrifice in the furthering of science itself will not be in vain and the men and women here at TNSB will notice her absence every second of every hour, ensuring that her death means something. Anneith bless her and Hellas save her,” he said, making the sign of protection and prayer, a three fingered claw-like shape and pushing it from his heart.

The attendees repeated the gesture while Manon and Asterin whispered their own prayers, holding hands tightly, designating the highest Ironteeth honour on the fallen woman.

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Gavriel was already in Weylan’s office as he walked in with Asterin, the two locked in a hushed argument. Upon spying the mission director, they paused and Weylan nodded towards the folder in his hand, “What’s that there?”

“I need you to sign off on the plans for the-“

“No.”

Gavriel pressed harder, “I know I can get parliament to fund it-“

“Gavriel, that’s not why I said no and you know it.” Weylan sighed and walked past him to sit behind his desk, Asterin taking a seat beside Gavriel. “We’re a public organization, everything we do has to be transparent.”

“And?”

Weylan and Asterin shared a look before the director responded, speaking slowly, “The moment the satellites point to the hab, we broadcast Aelin Galathynius’ body to the world.”

Gavriel scoffed, “You’re afraid of a PR scandal?”

Asterin rose a brow, “Of course we are. We have a dead astronaut on Farnor and we still need funding for The Crone.”

“So then what do we do?” he asked, tapping his finger on the folder, “She’s not going to decompose, her body will be up there forever.”

The director shrugged, “Meteorology reports that she’ll be covered by sand in less than a year.”

Gavriel threw his hands up, nearly hitting Asterin in the process, “We can’t wait a year! We have work to do and are we not going to discuss retrieving her body?”

“And what? Waste money and time for a corpse?”

Both Asterin and Gavriel flinched, the former hiding her adverse reaction better than Gavriel did. He was at a loss for words, thankfully Asterin spoke up, “Weylan, think about it. The Crone can bring the body back. Sympathy for her family-“

“What family? She’s an orphan and unmarried.”

It took conscious effort to anger Gavriel and he clamped down on the red-hot emotion, gritting his teeth as Asterin spoke again, “The Crone can bring back her body. We don’t make the mission about that, but we make it clear that that’s part of it. I can spin it if we do this now, Weylan. We can’t wait a year – people won’t care in a year.”

+*+*+*+*+*+*

The pain had lessened, if barely, as Aelin came to, not sure how’d long it had been since she’d passed out. There was no new blood and she sighed in relief, reaching for the pills again and taking one. Aelin stood up, pushing herself up carefully until she was standing.

She groaned but was able to breathe past the ache and hobble her way to the bunks, dragging out her box and getting warmer clothes.

Putting them on took energy, too much of it, and she was panting as she sat on the floor, her back against her bed. Her stomach panged in hunger and she would have to find something to eat soon, but first, she grabbed her laptop and moved to the kitchen, sitting down and opening the computer up.

After a few taps and a bit of fiddling, she clicked on the video journaling and the camera started rolling. “Fuck, I don’t know how to do this,” she muttered, glancing at herself on the screen before squaring her shoulders and taking deep breath. “Uh, hi. This is Aelin Galathynius, recording from the hab. It’s currently,” she looked at the timestamp next to the recording time, “sixteen-hundred hours and surprise, I lived!” She laughed shakily, dragging her hand through her hair. “Obviously.”

“I’m assuming this is a surprise to the crew and TNSB, if not, I’m going to kick some asses, but… I did not die on day eighteen. If I’m piecing this all together correctly, this,” she held up the antennae, “lovely little thing here damaged my bio-monitor and the team… had to leave before someone else got hurt.” Tears filled her eyes and she wiped them away, “Stupid painkillers, making me cry. But I… if I don’t make it out of here, which is highly likely, I just want to tell my crew that I don’t blame you, ok?”

She let out a shaky breath and continued, “I know that you broody humans are going to blame yourselves, especially you, Commander, but it was a tough situation and I would’ve made the same call. It’s just my bad luck, you know?”

Aelin shook her head, “Alright, now that all the mushy stuff is out of the way, I need to do some science.” She grabbed a nearby pen and her mission file, “There’s no way to contact TNSB because the satellite broke and I was impaled by the antennae. The next manned mission is in four years and I have to survive on a desolate planet for that long, right? Oh, and get to the Mistward crater where a prepositioned FAV is just waiting.”

She chewed on the pen, brows furrowing as she thought, “It’s a thirty-one-day expedition which means we have provisions for seventy, as a precaution.” She scribbled some numbers down, her mind whirling, “Now, it’s just me here which means it’ll last for…” she trailed off, “three-hundred days. With rationing, I can stretch it to four hundred. Which means I don’t have enough provisions to make it.”

With a sly grin, she looked up at the camera, “Thankfully, I know a thing or two about botany and soil.”

Aelin pushed herself in the wheeled chair to the pantry, opening every drawer and carefully counting every packet they had, separating them into different piles.

One, marked with red letters, Do not open until Beltane caught her eye and she grabbed it, “Oh, thank fuck the only thing Terrasen can grow is potatoes.” She looked at the camera by the microwave, “I’m about to science the shit out of this. It’s not gonna be pretty, I need to reclaim our waste and make fertilizer, but… it’ll keep me alive.” For now.

+*+*+*+*+*+*

It had been a week since the storm and Aelin had completed converted the kitchen into a greenhouse, Farnor soil on the floor, fertilized with the crew’s own human waste, with neat rows of spuds by moving all the chairs and tables outside, dumping them on the ground next to the rover station. That was another thing. To get to the next drop-site, it was a two-thousand-kilometre drive and the rover went a total of fifty.

Adding in the fact that she would have to spend the nights inside the rover as well, with outside temperatures reaching negative seventy-three in Celsius, she would need to turn on the heater, which would drain the battery.

She’d long since gone through everyone’s things, finding the holy grail, a rover manual in Lorcan’s box. Aelin had never been more thankful for mechanical engineering in her life.

It was slow and hard work to modify the two rovers they had. After fifty kilometres, the batteries would need to be recharged, at the hab.

Left with no other options, Aelin had been forced to dig up the old radioisotope thermoelectric generator, powered by none other than plutonium itself. The list of dangers was lengthy, however, Aelin wasn’t too worried.

She talked to the camera in the rover, “Now, I do remember that one of our lessons was ‘Don’t Go Digging Up The Big Box Of Plutonium,’ but it’s either cancer due to exposure or slowly dying due to the laws of thermodynamics. Honestly, at this point, getting cancer due to exposure to a toxic chemical would be heaven compared to being alone on a desolate planet, but them’s the breaks, I guess.”

+*+*+*+*+*+*

The lone astronaut was sitting before the computer, wearing the hoodie Rowan had left. It was the only thing that brought her comfort, other than the motherload she’d found on Nesryn’s computer – all of the Twilight movies and, of course, the computer geek’s favourite manga, Anatolia Story. It was surprisingly interesting and after she’d binge read seven out of twenty-eight volumes, Aelin forced herself to stop, telling herself she’d only read one volume a week. So far, she’d kept to her promise, but she’d been so busy with figuring out how to stay alive, she hardly had any free time.

She did find enough time to laugh herself silly over the fact that Fenrys’ had every Disney princess movie available, even her favourite: Mulan.

Elide had been her saviour with PDFs of Harry Potter, and Lorcan with Marvel movies. Even grouchy Rowan had Grey’s Anatomy, which was quite a shock to find out, given how much the doctor looked down on the show. Sometimes, Aelin imagined his voice as he ranted about how dramatic and unrealistic it was, especially with how many of the doctors slept with their co-workers.

But now was not the time to think of such things, Aelin had work to do.

Last night, she had recorded, yet again, her random thought pattern, focusing on how she would water her crops, after having planting the spuds for Beltane. “Thank the gods that Elide was always a fucking weirdo and learned how to fabricate water at much too young, but hey, foster parents don’t pay that much attention. Well,” she chuckled, “they paid enough attention to stop her from ordering The Anarchist’s Cookbook, which is a good thing because that was a time when we were in one of our little spats,” which were really anything but little. “She was able to put together this handy-dandy thing.” She indicated the packet on the table, of various simple reactions including one very, very important one.

Water.

Aelin toyed with Elide’s evil eye symbol, “The thing is, to make water, we need fire, which seems a bit strange, why would one need fire for water? But anyway, TNSB is against fire because of the whole ‘fire in space makes everyone die’ thing. So, everything is fire-retardant. Everything,” she held up the evil eye, which happened to be made of wood, “except for El’s personal items.”

There was a small knife on the table and she picked it up, shaving off pieces of her sister’s carving, “Ellie, if you see this, I’m assuming you don’t mind that I went through your personal boxes – all of yours actually. Commander, and I mean this with no offence, but all you listen to is punk. I have nothing against punk, but after a while, it all sounds the same, you know? One guy yells, ‘one two three four’ and then the guitars and drumming starts!”

Eventually, she had a nice pile of wood shavings and she carefully carried them over to the middle of the room. She remembered to put on her mask before passing through the plastic tarp, where Aelin had set up a very rudimentary stove-esque set up. The normally risky experiment was even more dangerous and she wasn’t going to blow herself up by forgetting to account for the oxygen she was exhaling.

“Ok,” she breathed out, putting the wood shavings on the sieve that covered the empty can of beans. Her eyes were wide, missing nothing. So many things could go wrong and Elide’s voice filled her head, There’s a reason people without chemistry degrees don’t make water. “I know that,” she bit out, her brows lowering as she carefully poured a few drops of rocket fuel – hydrazine – which was conveniently made of two sodium atoms bonded with four hydrogen atoms.

Carefully, so carefully, she struck the torch, wincing as the wood caught on fire, the flames fluttering happily. When nothing bad happened, she cheered and smiled beneath her mask, keeping one eye on the set-up and another on her spuds as she backed up into the kitchen, a slightly mad smile on her face as she sat down heavily on the chair and looked into the camera, “Don’t worry, guys, no explosions or fire, other than the very controlled experiment.”

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Aelin was hunched over a map, Iron Man: 3 playing idly on the laptop beside her. She was planning her route to the drop-site, which was in the Mistward crater. She breathed out and wiped the sweat from her brow.

Sweat.

Hardly daring to move, she turned to look at the plastic tarp of her greenhouse, seeing the drops of moisture on it. With a half-crazed laugh, she stood up and entered the closed off space, running her hand over the tarp, her fingertips coming away wet. “Water,” she breathed, buzzing with joy, “water! I have water!”

She raced to her bunk and threw on her suit and helmet, bouncing on her toes as she waited for the airlock tunnel to depressurize and then she raced to the water reclaimer, as fast as one could while wearing a spacesuit.

The sun beat down on her but she barely paid the heat any mind as she opened the water reclaimer, a dry sob tearing from her throat as she found it to be filled to the brim with the crystal clear liquid.

For the first time since she’d woken up, Aelin felt hope, bright and beautiful hope.

+*+*+*+*+*+*

It was past midnight in Perranth and Nox Owens yawned into his mug of tea, blinking hard to stay awake.

He settled back into his chair in Satellite Control, pulling up the aerial images of the hab for his boss. They took a while to load and he might have dozed off, jolting and nearly spilling his tea as the computer beeped, indicating the images were ready. With a slight sigh, he carefully put his mug down and pushed his glasses up after they had slipped down to the end on his nose yet again.

Blinking the sleepiness from his startlingly grey eyes, he clicked through the batch, making sure everything was normal before sending them up to his superiors. Something had him shifting in his wheelie-chair and narrowing his angular eyes, “What the fu…”

No. It couldn’t be. How in Hellas’ realm was the rover moving? The solar panels?

This didn’t make any sense…

Logically, the satellite planner knew that there was only one answer for this, he just couldn’t believe it.

Maybe he’d seen it wrong or these were old pictures, but the timestamp in the corner of the screen told him that what he was seeing was correct.

And that meant that… Aelin Galathynius was alive. And they’d left her on Farnor, alone.

Shit.

It took him a few tries to grab the phone and he couldn’t tear his eyes away as the operator picked up.

“This is Nox Owens from SatCon, I need to speak with Gavriel Aryeh. The Farnor Mission Director, yes. It’s an emergency.”

“Emergency, really?”

Nox hissed into the receiver, “Yes, it’s an emergency.”

+*+*+*+*+*+*

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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youtube

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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thirstyforlulu · 4 years

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Alucard x Reader: For Your Convenience Chapter 1

You were just passing through. This small town was on your way, and it was getting so dark. At that hour, there was only one inn open, and thankfully they had an open room.

“What brings you to our little town?” The owner asked as they handed you the key.

“I’m heading to a town another 30 miles from here. Had to stop for the night,” You replied.

In truth, you wanted to keep your answer vague. You’d been known to dabble in magic and had heard of a town where you could get all sorts of supplies, so you decided to make the journey. However, if people knew where exactly it was that you were going, they could guess why and try to burn you for magic.

“That’s nice. Enjoy your stay,” They said.

You nodded and bid them good night, picking up your things and heading to your room. It was the first door on the second floor. It was roomy, but there was little furniture. Perfect for one night but not for much longer.

From the window, you could see the town square, dark save for the occasional flicker of someone’s lantern as they shuffled about. It was calm, quiet, and it was making you so tired.

With one last glance outside, you changed your clothes and went to bed.

The plan was for you to leave the next day as soon as you woke up, but things changed when you were awoken by a loud shriek. Throwing your covers off, you ran downstairs to see what was going on.

“Please don’t go outside, you don’t want to see that,” The owner pleaded, standing between you and the door.

You didn’t necessarily want to see anything, but if someone was hurt you might be able to help. Giving the owner a reassuring nod, you opened the door and stepped outside. To the left of the door, no more than 10 feet away was the bloodied corpse of what you guessed was a man. All around the body people crowded, murmuring and crying. They all looked so terrified.

For a moment, you worried the people would blame you since it happened the night you came into town, but a young man walked over and calmed your nerves.

“I’m sorry, you’re probably scared aren’t you?” He said.

You nodded.

“I’m not really used to seeing corpses,” You replied.

“Yes, it’s a terrible sight, but I’m afraid we’re used to it here. The vampire strikes often and leaves the remains for us all to find. It’s terrible, but we’re helpless.”

At the mention of a vampire, you were intrigued. You’d heard of them but never had a chance to actually see one. A while ago you bought a vial of vampire blood from one of your suppliers, but you didn’t actually see the vampire they’d taken it from.

“A vampire? How do you know it’s that and not wolves?” You asked.

“We thought the same thing as first. With how torn up the corpses were it would make sense, but then bodies started showing up with very little outward signs of trauma and all of their blood drained. The vampire lives in that castle up there, he comes down to kill at least once a week,” He replied, pointing off.

You followed his finger and found a large decrepit castle that you hadn’t seen the night before. It was a dark stone, probably why you couldn’t see it at night, and had several tall towers. Vines grow up the sides, suggesting it’d been in a state of disrepair for a while now.

“Has anyone confronted the vampire?” You asked.

“Heavens no! No one is brave enough. We all just hide in our homes and do our best not to go out at night.”

“Maybe I could talk to them,” You suggested.

You knew how crazy it sounded, but you were curious. This could be your chance to meet a vampire, if you play your cards right this could be very beneficial to you. Plus you might be able to help out this small town.

“Are you crazy?! You’d be killed.”

“Well, only one way to find out,” You replied, heading up to your room to change.

The young man made no motion to stop you.

You hadn’t planned on going vampire hunting this trip so you had little gear to work with. All you had in that area was a cross and small vial of holy water. That should be enough, and if not you knew enough magic to protect yourself. The rest of your things you left in your room, assuring the owner you’d be back to collect them.

After a quick stop to get something to eat, you headed into the woods leading to the castle. It was dark, with dense foliage that lapped at your legs. At times you had to climb over fallen trees covered in moss. They were slick, nearly causing you to fall, but you grabbed onto other branches to steady yourself. It was clear no one had been that way in decades, the only signs of life you could find were deer tracks or rabbit holes.

The dense greenery transitioned into a flat open yard that appeared to have at one time been perfectly manicured but had since succumbed to nature’s wrath. There were weeds growing out of cracks in the steps leading up to the door. The door itself was mostly intact, but you could see where termites were starting to get to it.

When you pushed on it, there was little resistance. A loud creak rang out in the castle’s foyer, so loud you thought for sure it would notify anyone within a mile of your presence. After a quick inspection of the room, you stepped inside.

“Hello?” you called out.

Your voice echoed off the walls, letting you hear just how nervous you sounded. You waited, but no one came, the only sound was that of a few startled bats flying off.

Feeling a tad more courageous, you took a few more steps inside, letting the door shut behind you. Eyes darting back and forth, you slowly circled, taking in the exact size of the room.

“I have to give it to you, you at least came during the day,” A voice said from a few feet behind you.

You jumped, whipping around to find a tall man standing behind you looking very irritated. His clothes were long and fancy looking, mostly dark-colored with pops of red that matched his eyes. Judging by his complexion, he was the vampire.

“P-pardon my intrusion sir, I was just looking for someone,” You sputtered.

“A vampire, you were looking for a vampire, weren’t you? Well, here I am,” He replied, gesturing at himself.

“Yes, I would like to talk to you, I have some questions.”

“You get one, make it count human.”

Sweat was starting to form on the palms of your hands. Your life might be riding on what you ask him, you had to be careful. With a deep breath, you decided.

“Why are you terrorizing that town nearby?” You asked.

He gave you a puzzled look, tilting his head, which made his long black hair fall from his shoulders. No one had asked him why he did what he does. Normally the people who came here told him to leave the town alone or asked him to spare them. No one ever cared about his motives.

“Simple, I have to feed and that town just happens to be nearby,” He said, taking a few steps toward you.

Nervous, you matched each of his steps forward with one of your own backward. His long legs made it to where one of his steps was equal to about two of your own, allowing him to get closer and closer to you. He continued until you’d backed yourself up into a wall. At this distance, it was easy to see the large fangs in his mouth. The sight made you tremble, just thinking about those digging into your neck made your heart race. Before he could say anything else, you spoke up.

“Y-you said you need to feed right? W-well what if you had a constant source besides the town?”

“What are you suggesting?”

His icy breath was on your cheek, feeding the fear you felt inside.

“What if.. I was to offer you myself instead of the villagers? I won’t run, you can drink from me as much as you want as often as you want as long as you don’t kill me,” You offered.

He was shocked at your bold suggestion, but he was intrigued, liking the idea of having a convenient source of food.

“And why would you do that? What have you to gain from giving yourself up for them?”

“Nothing but knowing my sacrifice helped others.”

Hearing that he laughed. You were trying to be noble, to help others selflessly, a notion which he found to be silly. No human would willingly give up their life for strangers, but he was interested to see how far you would take this.

“Deal, you will live here and be my walking blood container and in return, I will not feed on anyone from the nearby towns.”

“Deal,” You replied.

He grabbed you and pulled you close to him, moving your head to give him clear access to your neck. Your breath caught in your throat and your body tensed in fear.

“Now, allow me to sample my new food source,” He said, inches from your neck.

Feeling his breath made you shiver, but you focused, steeling your nerve. His fangs sunk into your neck, his lips meeting your skin. The pain was terrible, but when he began to suck you felt a warm filling your body radiating from the puncture wound.

Your blood hit his tongue just like it does with every other human he’s fed from, but with you something was different. The taste was incredible, better than anything he’d tasted before. He thought he was imagining it at first, but as he continued to drink the flavor persisted, proving it was real.

“What is this?” He thought.

The taste was so addictive, he continued to drink despite the fact that he had just eaten the night before. He held you roughly in place, drinking in an unconscious fervor. You reached up and tried to grab his shoulders to remind him to stop but it didn’t seem to work. A tiny yelp escaped your lips but he didn’t seem to notice.

He drank until you’d lost so much blood you fell to the ground. Your body was so cold, you couldn’t think straight and you feared you wouldn’t make it. The sudden movement snapped him out of it. He removed his coat and threw it on top of you, which you gladly welcomed. As you wrapped yourself up, he turned his back to you.

“Your blood is acceptable, I shall prepare a room for you. I will come for you when it is ready. Tomorrow, I will send you to get your things from town, for now just rest while your body replenishes itself,” He said, acting as if he wasn’t suffering from a painful erection.

“Thank you sir,” You replied, hoping to please him.

He walked away, leaving you laying there in the sea of his coat. You felt your body slowly start to warm back up, the feeling returning to your extremities. With blood returning to your brain, you could finally think.

“What have I done?”

#alucard x reader #alucard #for your conveniance

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mistabullets · 4 years

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"I’m worried about you.” + Polnareff, please!

D'avoir et de Tenir

Characters: Jean Pierre Polnareff x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: You wake up from a bad nightmare and your fiancee is here to comfort you.

Content Warning: death cw, grieving cw, violence cw, nightmares cw, mental illness (PTSD if you squint), fem!reader, she/her pronouns

You reasoned with yourself; moving to France will provide a new scene, a fresh restart from and away from the horrors of Cairo which constantly lurked in your mind and in your daily night terrors. You had thought you could live a life of tranquil with him, your dear Polnareff, your fiancee.

Maybe you were wrong.

Eventually, you won’t feel so confused and hurt when you processed the fact they were no longer here, alive on this earth. Eventually, you won’t feel like that there’s some part of you missing and you will be able to adjust, the emotions transcending from sorrow to nostalgia. Time heals wounds, people say when they attempt to comfort you but time was so damn slow. You felt weak for grieving for so long; you had barely known them but the bond you created with them was raw, intense, something akin to love you felt for a sibling.

It had been a few months. You were slowly learning the language of your new county, thanks to your patient lover (he had been surprisingly patient with you for a lot of reasons). France was now your home and you did love every aspect of it... from the fine culture, the romantic language, and the places you promised to explore one day. France was a part of Jean Pierre; he was proud of his nation and homeland and thus, in turn, you loved it even more. Despite initially being annoyed by Polnareff’s vulgarity and provocative behavior, seemingly impulsive and arrogant, not thinking over the consequences. However, in the span of forty-something days, he unveiled his true colors to you.

He’s an honorable man, not willing run away from a fight and whenever his mind is set on something, he’s going to do it... and out of all the Crusaders, he wears his heart on his sleeve, showing his compassion. Whenever you were upset, Polnareff was the first to detect your emotions and ask if you were okay. When he accidentally stumbled into your hotel room, tears running down your cheeks, he stayed and comforted you. Perhaps the two of you moved too fast but when you were constantly put in a life-or-death situation, well... it didn’t matter what others thought. Eventually, you sought out the Frenchman willingly and he would come to you, gifting you with desperate and needy kisses after defeating one of Dio’s agents and narrowly avoiding death’s embrace. Or sometimes, he would actually come to you, tears in his pretty blues, missing his dear sister. Your interactions with Polnareff blossomed into something special; a connection, genuine and vibrant. It felt secure, comforting, and pleasant.

It was love. You fell in love with Jean Pierre Polnareff, your complete opposite but also, your other half. He was a part of you that you wanted to follow.

Which is why you proposed going back to France after Dio was defeated. His face flushed and you knew that he was in love with the idea of taking you home, starting over with domestic bliss. But that was before losing your friends. Avdol, Kakyoin, and even Iggy. You knew of the risk but you never figured that some of you were to die during that fateful encounter. Somehow, both of you held it in. But when you departed from Mr. Joestar and Jotaro, you couldn’t help but tear up, the moment too bittersweet. Kakyoin should have gone home to Japan, to study alongside Jotaro. Avdol should have been wishing you all farewell. You should have been taking Iggy home, back to France. You couldn’t help but feel, that you were leaving some part of you in Eygpt and it didn’t sit right.

It never did.

Blood. Decapitated arms, missing a body. Matted fur and broken bones, not breathing. A hole in his stomach, crimson streaming. The yells from a hoarse and tired voice. The defeated silence of a young man. River of tears from your lover. Red flashes. One step forward but two steps back. Confusion followed by fear tightening your throat. It’s him, Dio. A blink of an eye. How did he move so fast? Now you’re frozen, can’t move a limb. He’s approaching Jean Pierre. You try to scream. No, no, no, please, god, don’t, not him, not Jean--

Headless. A limp body drained of color is before you.

You scream but too late.

More blood, more red flashes. He’s approaching you now; a cold hand wraps around your neck. There’s a sharp pain. Your life is fading. Then darkness.

Eternal darkness.

“Mon cherie! Wake up, it’s okay--”

Eyelids flew open, your heart was hammering against your chest. Sweat beaded from your hairline and you felt yourself gasping for breath. You were in bed but the blanket felt too suffocating. You sat up, feeling the wetness staining your cheeks, realizing you had been crying in your sleep. Guilt pooled and filled your lungs; you must have woke up your beloved Pol and had him frightened by your moaning, pleading for the nightmare to end, it’s been about two weeks since your last one. You glanced over at your alarm clock, realizing it was three in the morning, groaning... Jean had to leave for work in a few hours. You attempted to dismiss it as just the usual nightmare and nothing more. But your fiancee can see through you. Sure, you shivered during your night terrors and sometimes called out the names of your past loved ones. But he had heard his name. You had moaned, tossing and turning as if trying to run away or do something in your dilemma. Tears were seeping through the slit of your closed eyes. Whatever it was, it had frightened you to your core. Polnareff grimaced as you tried to brush it off. He cared for your wellbeing, emotionally and mentally.

“Sorry Jean, let me go grab a glass of water and I’ll come back to bed...” however before you had a chance to sit up from the bed, strong arms enveloped around your smaller form, pulling you in for a tight embrace. A gasp elicited from your mouth, into your lover’s chest, and your muscles tensed but large hands caressed the knots in your shoulders and back. Sheepishly, you dared to take a look at your dear Polnareff, only to be met with soft yet concerned sapphire hues. It was like you were a child, being nurtured and smothered by an overprotective mother... but it was nice, the embrace reassured you Jean was alive and well, heat radiating from his build and his heartbeat a lullaby.

“Y/N, please... I know that wasn’t one of your usual nightmares. I’m worried about you. Don’t try to brush it off... I’m here for you, mon amour,” he murmured at the crown of your head, giving it a feather kiss. He was aware of your night terrors and tried his best to soothe away the pain. Dio was no longer a threat to them. Your friends don’t blame you for their immature deaths. He never minded easing away your fears, since he understood you would do the same for him, especially on evenings where he missed his younger sister. Memories swarm of the very first time Jean had comforted you like this in a hotel room, some small town in the Eygpt. While you appreciated his presence and being held, a blanket of certainly washing over you, you can’t help but worry you may be burdening the Frenchman. You knew he had his own emotional baggage; he dealt with trauma, probably better than you. Often, you couldn’t but feel the nagging feeling you were too clingy, too needy.

“Are you sure, Jean? I know you must be tired, you have work soon, I-I... I don’t want to make you stay up just for me...” you babbled excuses but you heard the low hush from your beloved followed by the sensation of soft lips pressing against your forehead, muscular arms holding you closer, a hand running up and down, from your shoulder blades to the small of your back.

“Hush with that nonsense. You’re going to be my wife soon and I’m going to be with you, good or bad. Staying up with you isn’t going to hurt me. Now, do you mind telling me about your nightmare... if you want to, of course!” he reassured, not wanting to be pushy. But you could come to him about anything. You nodded against him and began to explain what happened in your latest dream. Recalling the detached arms of Avdol, how broken and defeated Iggy was before death and the wound in Kakyoin’s stomach which resulted in his demise. Then the focus went to Dio and Polnareff, when the two of you first encountered him and realizing the deadly capabilities of his stand, despite not knowing what was going on. You hiccuped, coming to the worst part of your nightmare. It was something new... the sight of your lover’s dead body, the prickling sensation of Dio’s nails digging into your throat, followed by floating away into abyssal darkness. Tears stung the corner of your eyes and you found yourself buried in your fiancee’s chest, soaking the nightshirt he wore.

Thick fingers carded through your hair, his heart hurt from listening to your soft sobs. It must have been frightening, reliving the experiences in Cairo, added the realistic imagery with the death of him... you told him that you weren’t quite afraid of dying but you were scared for him. “I... I just want these nightmares to be over. I miss them every day. And I’m scared of possibly losing you, Jean.”

A hand found your cheek, causing you to look up at your lover. He wiped the hot tears away from your face with his thumb and he gently locked lips with yours. “It never goes away. It still haunts me... but I try my best to remember them and all the good memories we had. I don’t want you to be scared, ma belle. Remember when I told you could always count on me? I’m not going anywhere and I’ll always be here to comfort you, okay...”

You nodded, a soft smile spreading your lips. “You treat me so well, Pol. I’m glad I moved here with you... I... I don’t know how I would handle all this without you. Euh... tu es la lumière de ma vie... did I say it, right?”

“Très bien! Vous apprenez~” he gave one more kiss to your cheek before asking if you wanted to try to go back to sleep. You nodded and Polnareff pulled the covers, before entangling his arms around you once more.

“Je t'aime tellement, ma reine,” your fiancee whispered, planting one last kiss to your forehead before closing his heavy eyelids.

“Je t'aime aussi, Jean...” you murmured against him, eventually slumber returning and you were thankful to wake up in the morning, next to him.

#jean pierre polnareff #angededesespoir #scenario #my writing #sfw #grieving cw #death cw #violence cw #nightmares cw #mental illness cw #polnareff x reader #sentence starter #angst with a happy ending #sorry i always need a happy ending #stardust crusaders #jojo #jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure

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threnodygrimblood · 4 years

Text

The Family that Shouldn’t Be

Summary: With Muriel and Eustace dead, Courage finds himself all alone at the farmhouse. Fortunately or unfortunately for Courage, the villains he faced in the past begins to make themselves at home at the farmhouse, bringing with them much fun and mayhem the small pink dog can handle.

Rated T for just in case

It seems that every time I write a chapter, I expect it to be short only to find it longer than expected. This chapter was going to be a Valentine's chapter initially, but since I couldn't come up with an idea to introduce the Black Puddle Queen, I decided to rearrange some chapters around. I plan on writing a Christmas chapter. . . *looks at calendar*, which means I'll have to hold off on writing a chapter for Keeping Secrets for the time being so I can get the Christmas chapter written on time as I don't want a repeat of the Halloween chapter.

I also kept wanting to refer the Black Puddle Queen as the Black Widow Queen. I blame the spider for it. I also feel bad that I didn't give the Black Puddle Queen many speaking lines nor interaction with the others. I'll have to make that up in the next chapter.

All Courage the Cowardly Dog characters belong to John Dilworth.

The Queen Who Saves Courage From Love

֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍

"Oooh yeaah. That feels goooood, Pup." Cajun murmured.

It was shedding season for the furry occupants in the farmhouse, which was evident when fur of various colors began coating the floors. Le Quack and the Clutching Foot were out of the house; Courage had told them about the time he dug up the bones of a giant kangaroo monster, and how valuable they were. So, the two had headed off into the desert to dig up more bones to sell. Of course, those who remained at the house were sure that if they couldn't find any, then Le Quack being the con artist he is, will attempt to sell any regular bones they find out there.

Courage had found Cajun sitting on the front porch, struggling to reach his back with the brush. Understanding the strain of trying to brush his own back, Courage offered to brush the fur on Cajun's back for him. Courage would stop every now and then to pick out the clumps of hair from the brush's teeth and tried not to feel envious that Cajun's shed fur didn't come out loose as his did.

"Done." Courage announced once he was sure he got out all the tangles and knots, and there was no more loose fur.

"Thanks, Pup!" Cajun said and turned around to face the dog. "Let me brush your back for ya."

It's been a while since Courage had a proper brushing and wasn't about to turn it down himself. Turning, Courage waited for Cajun to begin. Once the fox did, Courage couldn't help but sigh as the brush went down his back in a slow, soothing motion that he couldn't help wagging his tail. Courage heard Cajun chuckle, but Courage didn't care, and he didn't care that a tangle got snagged as Cajun brushed it out.

"And you're done, Pup!" Cajun reported.

"Thanks, Cajun." Courage said. He was a little sad it ended, but he was also glad because his legs were starting to fall asleep, and Courage hated the sensation he gets when it happens.

Together, the two picked out the pink hair from the brush, and Cajun, in his cleverness, clumped the pink together to make a miniature Courage. Courage couldn't help giggle at Cajun's eccentric behavior. The little dog picked up the brush and headed inside as Cajun went to toss the fur that didn't get blown away by the breeze in the trash can out back.

Courage walked over to Katz sitting in the armchair, reading a new book, and asked, "Katz? Do you want me to brush your back for you?"

Ever since the incident with the spirit Big Toe and his goons brought, Katz had gotten moody. Well, a lot moodier than usual. Especially when Courage and Cajun were hanging out together, and Courage couldn't understand why it was since Katz wouldn't talk about it. Courage hoped that offering to brush the feline will ease his mood.

Katz studied Courage for a moment, turned back to his book, and said, "No, thank you. I can manage on my own."

"Are you sure?" Courage pushed.

"Yes, Courage. I'm sure." Katz said, his tail twitching in agitation.

"Okay." Courage said, feeling dejected.

Courage headed into the kitchen, where he found Cajun drinking water from a glass.

"Why so glum, Pup?" Cajun asked, concerned.

"I offered to brush Katz, but he turned it down." Courage explained.

Cajun snorted. "Ya have a better chance at brushing Le Quack than brushing the kitty."

It was a good thing Le Quack was there, or else he would've smacked Cajun with his mallet.

"What about Weremole?" Courage asked.

"When I mentioned havin' his fur brushed, he bolted for the hole he made in the ground. Probably doesn't want his fur harvested." Cajun answered.

Courage could see Weremole's reasoning when it came to his fur. After all, it's the antidote for when he bites someone and turns them into a weremole.

Cajun set his empty glass in the sink and announced, "Now that my fur is free of loose hair, I don't have to worry about clogging the drain. See you in an hour or two, Pup."

Cajun left Courage alone in the kitchen, and the dog let out a sigh. His thoughts keep returning to Katz, and Courage wished he knew why Katz was acting the way he was and that he could find a way to help him. Every time Courage asked about it, Katz would avoid the question or simply say he was fine, but Courage knew he wasn't. Courage wanted to cheer Katz up and wished he knew the cat's favorite food was, but he was evasive about it when he asked. Courage could make happy plums, and he was glad he got the ingredients to make it. But it would take time to make it so for now; Courage decided to make a pot of Katz's favorite tea and bring it to him before starting on the happy plums.

Courage had a pot of tea steeped the way Katz liked it on a tray along with a teacup, a bowl of sugar, and a little pitcher of milk. He took one look at the tray and decided that it could use a plate of cookies as well. Courage wished he had time to bake the cookies for Katz and hoped he would be okay with store-bought cookies instead. Courage pushed one of the chairs over to the sink and stacked pots on top of the chair to reach the top cupboard where the cookies are.

As he stood precariously on the cooking pots and hoping they don't go toppling over, Courage wished that Cajun placed the baked goods closer to the ground where he could reach them. After getting the cookies, Courage carefully climbed down his dog-made ladder, took one step for the table, and stopped.

There sitting at the table drinking Katz' tea was a human. "Mmm, this is delicious." the human said.

"Who are you?" Courage finally asked once he found his voice.

The human turned and looked in Courage's direction. "I'm the God of Love, Eros," he answered and took another sip of the tea.

Courage blinked as he stared at the human claiming to be a god, and he could see that his curly hair was the color of gold, he wore a white toga much like the Storm Goddess, and Goose God did. White feathery wings fluttered occasionally, a sling hung across his back, and a golden bow leaned against the table. Yes, Courage could see how this could be Eros.

"Ah, what are you doing here?" Courage asked as the familiar anxiety inside him began to rise in him.

"Someone asked me to do them a favor," Eros answered as he took hold of his bow.

Courage's heart began to thump hard against his ribcage, and the cookies were getting crushed between his paws. "Wh-what favor?" he stuttered.

"Oh, it involves you," Eros said as he notched an arrow. "Now hold still. I promise this won't hurt at all."

That had to be the first time someone told Courage that being shot with something pointy wasn't going to hurt, and he may have believed the God of Love if fear and instinct didn't run amok in the dog. As Eros let the arrow loose, Courage cried out in surprise and held up the cookie package as a shield. Amazingly, the packaging stopped the arrow from hitting Courage, while Eros himself stood surprised by it, Courage tossed the box aside, it hit one of the pots, causing them all to topple over with a loud crash, and made a dash for the kitchen door.

Courage heard Eros muttering as he pushed the door open, and he was sure the God was getting ready to notch another arrow. Courage hurried through the dining room, and he realized his mistake when he saw Katz halfway across the living room with a look of worry on his face.

"Courage? What is-" Katz was interrupted when an arrow sailed through the air and hit Katz in the chest.

Courage gasped in horror as Katz fell back, and he ran over to the cat. "Katz!" Courage screamed in fear.

Courage pulled the arrow out and searched for a wound and was relieved to find none. "Katz! Are you all right?" he asked once he turned his attention back to the feline.

Katz turned his head towards Courage and stared at him. Courage grew worried again and was about to ask another question when the feline pulled the canine into a hug and did something Courage never thought the cat would ever do to him or anyone else. Katz kissed him. Katz had kissed Courage and was now purring and nuzzling him!

Courage was so flabbergasted by his predicament; he nearly forgot the reason he was running in the first place.

"I guess this works out," Eros said as he walked into the room. "Now, be a good puppy and let me shoot you."

Courage couldn't get away anyway, plus Katz's hold on Courage had tightened as the cat hissed at Eros. Eros ignored the cat as he drew the drawstring on his bow back. It wavered about as Eros tried to find an opening to shoot Courage.

Frustrated at the cat's attempts to shield Courage, Eros said to the dog, "Can you please tell the cat to release you so I can use this arrow on you?"

Courage, of course, screamed again in terror at the thought of being shot. Cajun sopping wet, with a towel around his waist, came tromping down the stairs. The fox had forgotten his sunglasses in his haste to see what had Courage screaming in terror.

"Pup! What's the matter?!" He hollered.

Caught unguard, Eros turned towards the newcomer just as he released his hold on the drawstring. The arrow lodged into Cajun's chest, causing him to tumble down the stairs, landing in a heap near the grandfather clock. Courage winced when he heard Cajun's fall and managing to free himself from Katz's embrace somehow, hurried over to Cajun to see if he was alright.

"Cajun!" Courage howled soon realized he made a huge mistake as he kneeled next to the fox.

Cajun looked up at Courage stunned and, much like Katz did, pulled the dog into his grasp but licked his muzzle instead. Courage was aghast at what was transpiring, especially when Katz tried pulling him out of Cajun's arms with a snarl.

"Oops. I didn't expect this to happen," Eros sheepishly said as he scratched his head at what he did. "Thinking about it now, I should've just poked you with the arrow instead."

"Can you fix this?" gasped Courage as Cajun and Katz squeezed the air out his lungs from fighting over him.

"Sorry, but I'm needed elsewhere," Eros answered suddenly. "But don't worry, the effect of the arrows will wear off at midnight tonight. So good luck with those two. You'll certainly need it."

And with that, Eros was gone. Out the front door, that is. Courage howled in exasperation at the same time Cajun yelped when Katz poked him in the eyes. Katz cradled Courage in his arms and gave him another affectionate nuzzle. Courage let out a sigh. It was barely noon, and it was still many hours until midnight before Katz and Cajun returned to their old selves. He was sure he could find a way to handle the love-stricken cat and fox. How hard could it be?

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"Courage is mine!" Katz growled.

"No, Pup belongs to me!" Cajun snarled.

"I love him!" Katz snapped.

"I love him more than you!" Cajun barked back.

Courage learned sooner than later that having to deal with two people struck by Cupid's arrows and falling in love with him was harder than he thought. Katz and Cajun had begun their bickering over Courage that the dog was worried that they would start a painful game of tug-of-war with him. They instead released their hold on Courage and began grappling over him. They were rolling on the floor when Le Quack and the Clutching Foot returned from their expedition.

They stood rooted to their spot, watching the unusual event happening before them. Big Toe and the other four toes began making bets on what was going on at the same time Le Quack asked, "Qu'est-ce que ç'est?"

Courage decided to take that opportunity to make a run for it, leaving the two very confused. Courage's chest heaved as he panted for air while pressed against the back of the house.

Courage's eyes caught sight of one of the holes Weremole made and thinking that it would make an excellent temporary hiding place, he scrambled towards it. Courage's back feet kicked up sand and dirt as he squirmed his way into the tunnel. Courage crawled through the maze of tunnels Weremole had made. He took a right and stopped when he came nose to nose to a snarling Weremole.

"So-sorry for disturbing you, Weremole." Courage stammered as he backed up. "I'm also sorry for coming into your home, but I'm trying to hide from Cajun and Katz."

"Grrr?" Weremole asked.

"They've gotten hit by love arrows, and I made the mistake of being in their sight when it took effect. So now they're both in love with me." Courage explained.

Weremole seemed to understand Courage's predicament and didn't say anything else about the dog being in his burrow. And Courage's reprieve didn't last long when dirt began raining down on top of him.

"Pup!" Courage heard Cajun's voice say behind him.

With a yelp, Courage crawled through the tunnels, not only forgetting that being a fox Cajun has a keen sense of smell but also was a burrowing animal as well. Behind Courage, he heard Weremole followed by a yelp from Cajun as the fox encountered the feral animal. Courage scampered up what he believed to be another way out of Weremole's home and had popped his way out, and his heart just about stopped when someone pulled him the rest of the way out the hole.

"Courage." purred Katz as he drew the dog into a hug.

Courage couldn't deny that the hug felt nice when it wasn't the two of them trying to pull him out of each other's arms. The gentle tender hug was short-lived when an orange paw shot out of the ground in reminiscence of a zombie coming out the sand that Courage screamed hysterically. The rest of Cajun popped out the field, and he shook to clear the sand from his fur and coughed. Weremole gnawed on one of Cajun's legs

"Pup? Why did ya run from me?" Cajun asked, and the hurt tone in his voice made Courage feel guilty.

"Because he has no interest in a mangy backwater fox like you," Katz answered for Courage.

Courage, of course, denied such a thing but couldn't even tell Cajun this as the fox stated, "I'll show ya what a mangy backwater fox can do!"

Both Courage and Weremole were flung through the air as Cajun tackled Katz to the ground.

"Oof! Courage cried out as he landed on his rump as Weremole landed on his back.

Weremole got to his feet and launched himself at the cat and fox. Courage didn't know what to do. Should he help them? If so, who would he help first? Certainly not Weremole, he was doing fine on his own. So that left Cajun and Katz, and he knew that he helped one, then the other would either be heartbroken or worse: try to kill his rival.

Courage jumped when he heard "Puppy dog." behind him.

Turning around revealed Le Quack. The duck watched the fight taking place as yips, growls, and curses rend the air.

"What is wrong with those two? Have they been afflicted with some, how do you say, brain injury?" Le Quack inquired as the Clutching Foot joined them.

Courage recounted to the two of how Cupid, Courage had said Eros' name, but since the Big Toe and his lackeys didn't know his actual name Courage had to use Eros' most common name, had shot Katz and Cajun with his arrows. How they both fell in love with him because he was the one they saw when the arrows took effect.

The Clutching Foot was disappointed that none of them got their bets right. Le Quack made a mistake to laugh at Courage's unfortunate predicament. Two shadows fell upon them and ending Le Quack's laugh as he looked up into the enraged faces of the fox and cat.

"Did you just laugh at Courage?" Katz asked with deadly calm.

The Clutching Foot knew trouble when he was saw and hopped away as swiftly as he could. Courage felt sorry for what was going to happen to Le Quack, but he also saw this as an opportunity to try and hide.

After turning their fury on poor Le Quack, Courage had run upstairs towards his bedroom and dove under the bed. He knew it was nothing more than a temporary haven. Time ticked by as Courage sweated, waiting for either of Katz or Cajun to show up. His stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten anything since breakfast, and a small whine rumbled out his throat. Courage yelped when his legs grabbed, and while being dragged out, he dug his nails into the floorboards, leaving long grooves behind.

Once again, Courage was heft up from the ground and came face to face with Katz.

"What were you doing under there Courage?" Katz inquired, and before Courage could answer, his stomach growled again. Katz chuckled.

"Let's get something to eat," Katz suggested.

The cat carried Courage in his arms, and the dog couldn't think of anything to say as Katz headed down the stairs.

Katz placed Courage in a chair and patted him on the head before looking to see what was available for a meal. Katz paused when he spotted the pots on the scattered on the floor.

"Why are all these on the floor?" Katz questioned.

Courage had utterly forgotten about those! Scared of how Katz would react, Courage answered, "I made you some tea and thinking you would like some cookies I decided to use the pots to get them from one of the top cabinets because it's so high up and I'm small. I accidentally knocked them over. I'm sorry!"

"You made me tea?" Katz inquired, and looking at the table, saw the tray and teapot Courage had left there.

"I wanted to cheer you up and thought making your favorite tea for you would do the trick." Courage said as he blushed.

Courage didn't expect Katz to caress his face, and it certainly gave him an odd feeling in his stomach. "You're so sweet, Courage." Katz cooed and smiled at the small pink dog. "You sit there, and I'll put the pots away and get something for you to eat."

Courage watched Katz clean up the kitchen, took one look at the crushed box of cookies, declared it was no longer edible, and threw it away. Courage was shocked by that. Katz always had an issue about anyone wasting food, and here he was doing just that. The arrow truly messed him up.

Now Courage stared at the plate of cookies Katz had placed before him along with a glass of milk while Katz sat nearby, paws tucked under his chin as he watched Courage with his tail swishing side to side.

Courage could count on one hand the number of tense meals he had. He chose a cookie from the plate and took a bite. His mouth felt as dry as the desert outside as he chewed and hoped he didn't choke when he swallows. Courage did choke, but it wasn't because of the cookies nor from Katz never taking his eyes off the dog. It was simply because Cajun kicked the door in, startling Courage. It would've been terrifying if the door hadn't swung back and smacked into Cajun, causing the fox to let out a bark of pain.

Cajun pushed the door open more gently this time, and he walked in, rubbing his nose. The hostility Courage could feel from Cajun and Katz glaring at each other increased the tension so much that Courage wanted to get away as quick as possible. He shifted in his chair and made the best impression of a deer caught in headlights when the fox and cat turned their attention to him.

Cajun noticed the cookies on the table and said, "Oh, are you hungry, Pup? Let me cook you something."

He headed for the fridge when Katz stood up from his seat and said, "I was going to make something for him."

Katz and Cajun shoved at each other as they grabbed for ingredients for whatever it was they planned to cook for Courage. As Courage slowly and quietly got down from the chair, he began to start hating himself for continually running away as he quickly slipped out the backdoor and once again ran for it.

Courage stopped in the kitchen as he panted with his tongue lolling out. He was exhausted. His legs were tired and cramping. Courage desperately wanted to sit and rest, but he couldn't allow himself that. Not while Katz and Cajun were on the hunt for him.

He tried finding new places to hide, but Katz and Cajun always found him. Courage had wondered where the last three remaining villains were and learned that Weremole had grown bored of using Cajun and Katz as a chew toy and retreated into his lair. The Clutching Foot was hiding out in the basement, which left Le Quack's whereabouts unknown. Probably off somewhere licking his wounds.

Courage looked around the kitchen; it looked like a warzone. Katz or Cajun left the faucet on, and water flowed over the basin, leaving a giant growing puddle. Vegetables and fruit were thrown so forcefully the stuck to the wall and eggs dripped from the ceiling. There was an enormous head-shaped dent in the fridge door, and knives of different sizes embedded in the wall, table, and the kitchen door. Something charred, smoking, and inedible were all that remained in one of the pans on the stove. Courage cocked his head and listened for either cat or fox. Not hearing either nearby, he was sure he still had time before they discovered his current location, Courage walked around the puddle as he made his way over to the sink, hopped up and turned the water off. Courage jumped clear of the pool and tried to think of something, anything. He needed a new place to hide. Katz and Cajun found his hiding spots much too quickly. He gazed out at the miles of desert and promptly shook his head. Not only would Courage not be able to find suitable shelter out there, but he would need to bring provisions and something warm with him to last him until midnight.

Of course, he didn't have to attempt to survive in the desert. Courage could head to Shirley's wagon and hide there. But even then, he knew if he did that, she would possibly place a curse on the fox and cat, and that was something Courage didn't want for Katz and Cajun. He couldn't fault them on the way they were behaving. He could take the truck and hide in town. But they would hear the truck and find some way to follow him into town. And even if the people in town were able to mask his scent, they would tear the city apart looking for him.

Whoever asked Eros this favor no doubt knew what they were doing if they intended to get rid of Courage. Courage didn't want to think it, but he was sure the effect on Katz and Cajun were getting worse with their maddening desire to claim him as their lover. And he feared that one or both would kill each other or kill him if they couldn't have him for themselves.

Courage wanted to let out a howl of frustration but dare not lest he disclosed his location to the other two. As Courage racked his brain for a solution, he wasn't aware of the tall, beautiful woman emerging from the pool of water behind him. He heard not a sound as she raised her arms clad in black from the puddle. If Courage was aware of the newcomer, it was too late. A hand clamped his muzzle shut, the other hand wrapped around his chest, and back into the pool, she went, taking Courage with her.

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"Where is he?" Katz growled as he stalked the grounds. He wasn't thrilled that the fox was also looking for Courage as well, but at least he wasn't with him now.

They searched everywhere they could think of where Courage could hide in like the chimney. The fox and cat checked all of Courage's hiding spots again, all except Weremole's den, Cajun didn't want to incur the feral mole's wrath again. Growling again, Katz approached the kitchen door. Inside, he paused when he spotted Cajun roaming the room.

Katz's eyes narrowed as he watched the fox. "What are you doing?"

"Pup's scent is the strongest here," Cajun explained.

Katz sniffed the air then made a face. He was amazed the fox could pick Courage's scent through such a repugnant smell permeating the air.

"Pup was here in the kitchen, and that's it. I get nothin' near either door. It's like he vanished in thin air." Cajun continued.

Katz scoffed. How stupid can the fox be? "That's preposterous. Someone can't vanish into thin air." he voiced.

As if on cue, they both jumped when they heard Courage screaming in terror. Fear for what could be happening to the dog and hot anger for whoever is causing those screams had both Katz and Cajun racing out the back door following the shout to the back of the barn. They ran around the end of the massive structure merely to skid to a stop when what they across was not Courage. Still, a stereo with a speaker belting out a recording of Courage screaming and next to it was a small pile of bombs with a timer attached to one already counting down. They barely had time to react when the timer reached zero, followed by the bombs going off in a massive and loud explosion.

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Let's take a moment to change locations and divulge where Courage is. Courage's current situation was that of a tropical paradise. Leaves from palm trees fluttered in the gentle salty breeze, and a quaint little resort settled further up the beach. The beach itself was clean and warm, and it was here that Courage laid in a lounge chair looking at the sea. The water hitting the surf and seagulls calling was quite relaxing. But not by much.

"Why am I here?" Courage wondered aloud.

"The Black Puddle Queen brought you here to keep you safe." Le Quack answered as he walked up to the lounging dog.

Courage next asked, "Why are you here?"

"The Black Puddle Queen thought it would be best that you had someone to keep you company. Drink?" he offered the coconut cup he held in one of his wings to Courage.

Courage thanked Le Quack and took the drink from him. Le Quack jumped into the other lounge chair next to Courage's and took a sip from his straw.

"But why are you here?" Courage asked again.

"Would you rather have Big Toe or Weremole here?" Le Quack asked himself.

Courage knew for sure that if Big Toe were here, he would be trying to rob the tourists and the resort and ff Weremole were here, he would either dig tunnels everywhere or try to eat the people here.

"Not really." Courage answered.

"There you go." Le Quack retorted.

Le Quack drank more of his drink while Courage just stared down at his. He was grateful the Black Puddle Queen helped him get away from Katz and Cajun and hoped that they would be alright. After all, he can't fault them for their behavior. But still, Courage's paranoia continued to run rampant as he expected to see a plane appear in the sky or a submarine to surface in the ocean. Courage was amazed his fur hadn't started falling out from the whole ordeal. He sighed and took another drink.

Le Quack noticed and asked, "What is on your mind, Puppy dog?"

"I'm worried about Katz and Cajun," he answered.

"How so?" Le Quack asked.

"I expect to see Katz and Cajun showing up even though I know they don't have a clue where I am. I also don't want them to kill each other over me."

"They'll be fine." Le Quack reassured Courage, paused, then added. "Maybe."

"Maybe?" Courage inquired. Le Quack just cackled in response, which caused dread to settle in Courage's stomach. "What did you do?" he pushed.

"I did not appreciate them beating me up, so I left them a little present." Le Quack answered

"What present?" Courage asked.

"Nothing too terrible, just a few bombs rigged to a timer." Le Quack told the dog.

"Bombs?!" Courage yelped.

"Don't worry your fluffy little head off; the explosion won't kill them. Hopefully. It should be a lesson to them that Le Quack always gets the last laugh." Le Quack stated.

As the duck began laughing his diabolical laugh, Courage added this new information to his list of things to stress over. He prayed that Katz and Cajun were doing fine.

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"You both were acting like Courage was in heat the way the two of you were chasing after him and attacking each other." a blush coloring the Black Puddle Queen's cheeks as she spoke those words. "You both became a danger to him, and to save him, I took him somewhere safe."

It was a little past midnight when the Black Puddle Queen talked to the two then left through the bucket of water that was in the living room. Now it was creeping up on one in the morning as Katz sat in the armchair, and his body racked with pain as he pressed an icepack to his eye. Katz had bandages wrapped around his wrist and hand holding the icepack, around his forehead and wounding about his left ear, and his chest. The gauzy material was also around the quarter end of his tail and both his legs.

"Why am I the only one with the cone?" Cajun complained.

"Will you desist your persistent whining?" Katz inquired. He slowly turned his head to the fox sitting in the rocking chair next to him. Cajun's whole body seemingly encased in a cast with a cone securely around his head.

"I'm only whinin' 'cuz I'm the only one wearing this cone," Cajun said.

"You are more injured than me," Katz answered.

"I wouldn't be if someone hadn't used me as a shield," Cajun growled.

It felt like a headache beginning to blossom in Katz's head, and he slowly rubbed his temple to ease it.

"Please do shut up before I turn your cone into a fishbowl." Katz sighed.

"Turn it into a martini cup, and I'll drown happily." Cajun chirped.

Katz's lips twitched as he tried not to smile at Cajun's remark. The two were silent for a while more before Cajun asked, "When is Queenie gonna bring Pup back?"

"In a day or two. She thinks Courage should relax a bit before returning home." Katz answered.

Katz and Cajun were alone in the living room. The Weremole was in his home underground, the Clutching Foot retired to the basement soon after finishing their story, and the Black Puddle Queen went to check on Le Quack and Courage at wherever it is she put them. She still wouldn't disclose their location to them. "Just in case." was her reasoning.

"I don't blame her for thinking Pup needs to be away. The Pup must've been freaking out by our behavior the whole time." Cajun stated.

"Yes." Katz agreed with a heavy heart. The explosion had thrown them quite a distance and knocked the two out for several hours. When they came to, Weremole and the Clutching Foot was helping the Black Puddle Queen tend to their injuries and barely being able to move were confided to the chairs. It was around this time the arrows' effect wore off, and neither Katz nor Cajun could remember any of their actions; it was akin to being in a drunken stupor, minus the hangover. But after seeing the state of the house of the living room and being told what the grounds looked like, they knew it wasn't good. They were both equally horrified by how they were acting when the Clutching Foot, Weremole, and the Black Puddle Queen recounted what took place. How did the Black Puddle Queen know what was transpiring? She was watching what was happening through any open water on the farm accessible from her realm.

For Katz, it was bad enough that he has to compete against Cajun for the dog's love without the help of Cupid's arrows, but to fight over Courage like he was some prize to be won while under the influence of the arrow. . .it made the cat physically ill. The cat felt so downtrodden over the whole thing that he was ready to concede to the fox.

"The sucky part of the whole thing is that I don't romantically like Pup." moaned Cajun.

"What?" Katz perked up, and his heart skipped a beat at the fox's words.

"I said I ain't interested in Pup in that way," Cajun clarified.

"But you're so nice to him all the time," Katz stated.

"Just cuz I'm nice doesn't mean I love 'im," Cajun affirmed.

"You're not nice to me." Katz pointed out.

"Hard put bein' nice to someone who constantly tries to cave my head in or tries to disembowel me." Cajun retorted with a growl.

"Touché," Katz said.

"Now that ya know I ain't interested in Pup, ya can pursue him romantically," Cajun told the cat.

"Wh-what?" Katz stammered.

"Have you become hard of hearin' suddenly? I said you can try your paw at startin' a relationship with Pup." Cajun reiterated.

"What makes you think I. . . love Courage?" Katz pressed.

"Well, for starters, ya stopped callin' him 'dog' and started callin' him by his name. Secondly, winnin' that fish plushie at the County fair is somethin' someone would do for the one they love and thirdly, the way ya hesitated when ya used the word 'love.' Now I ain't a genius, but I ain't stupid neither, and I can see that ya love Pup." Cajun explained.

If Katz's fur weren't already a shade of scarlet, he certainly would be that color right now. He thought he hid his feelings for the dog so well.

"Am I that transparent?" Katz questioned.

"Possibly," Cajun answered. "I always thought you hated all dogs."

"I do," Katz confirmed. There is one such dog that will always fill him with hatred whenever he thinks of him. "I'll admit that I hated Courage for continually thwarting my schemes and for defeating us when that farmer called us to help destroy him. After returning to my motel to lick my wounds, I pondered on what was it that made Courage able to defeat us time and time again. So, when I learned of the farmer and his wife's passing, I thought it an opportunity to learn more about Courage."

"Ya never expected to experience it firsthand with all the spooky stuff that's been happening after gettin' here," Cajun confirmed.

"Quite." Katz agreed. "I'm still unsure when my acrimony for Courage changed to affection, but I know seeing you with him tended to make my blood boil."

"Wait. Ya mean to tell me the reason ya abused me all the time is cuz ya were jealous of Pup and me?" Cajun asked, stunned.

"Yes," Katz answered solemnly.

Cajun stared at Katz for a minute then began cackling, "Hahahaha- ow! Hahahahaha- ow! Hahahahahahaha- ow!"

Katz threw his icepack at the laughing fox and hissed when pain flared in his wrist. The icepack bounced off the cone and flopped to the floor. Katz glared at the icepack like it just insulted his mother and moved his leg to drag it back to him, but seeing how it was further than he expected, he quickly gave up as he was too much in pain and too tired to make an effort to retrieve it.

By then, Cajun was done laughing and gasping from pain, he said, "I never pegged ya for the jealous type."

Katz merely grunted in response.

Cajun then asked, "Why didn't ya make your move on Pup yet? Worried that the other villains have a thing for him too?"

"Would they?" Katz asked in return.

"I can't speak for Weremole and Le Quack. Black Puddle Queen is more of the seduce 'em and eat 'em type. Though I'm sure, the Clutching Foot ain't interested seein' how dog saliva is the cure to get rid of him and his lackeys." Cajun answered and then added, "Even if one or all of them love Pup romantically, he ain't gonna reciprocate it back."

"What makes you say that?" Katz inquired.

"I'm pretty sure Pup has romantic feelings for ya too," Cajun answered.

Katz blinked his yellows eyes at the fox. Surely, he's jesting. "What makes you say that?" he couldn't stop himself from asking.

"Besides Pup only reactin' to your name when that water creature had its hold on him, he runs to ya anytime somethin' spooky happens." Cajun pointed out.

Katz took that moment to analyzed Cajun's words. Yes, Courage responded to Katz's voice and as for running to him. . .back when the dummy transferred his soul into Katz's body and vice-versa, he couldn't move at all, and he couldn't speak unless someone used the trigger and handle inside the dummy's body, but he could hear, and Katz did hear Courage run into the room calling out his name. And Courage did come to Katz when the dog thought Cajun was planning to cook him. Could it be true?

"I see that wheel in your head turnin', pussy cat, and ya shouldn't be afraid to try and confess to Pup, or else it'll be too late, and you'll regret it," Cajun stated. "Christmas is right around the corner; ya should get somethin' special for Pup and Valentine's is comin' up too so ya should think about doin' somethin' romantic with Pup on that day."

"I never pegged you as a romantic," Katz said.

"If ya made an effort to get to know me, ya would've known." Cajun countered.

Katz certainly didn't want to agree with Cajun, so he grunted in reply as he slowly pushed himself up. "I think I'll make my way to bed. The sooner I sleep, the sooner I am healed and can clean the house before Courage comes home."

"Sounds like a plan." agreed Cajun.

Once Katz was on his feet, he watched as Cajun rocked back and forth in the rocking chair, grunting as he went and flopping forward onto the floor. Katz heard a muffled "Ow," come out of Cajun as he laid face-first on the ground.

"Do you need help?" Katz asked, dreading having to help Cajun as he felt the ache in his body.

"Just flip me on my back, and I'll sleep here on the floor," Cajun answered.

Katz slowly worked on getting down on his knees, with his already sore arms and with more grunts and groans, managed to push Cajun onto his back.

"Thanks, pussy cat," Cajun sighed gratefully.

Katz took a few steps towards the stairs, stopped, and meandered over to the couch. He grabbed the blanket draped on the sofa, dragged it over to where Cajun laid, and placed it on top of the fox.

Cajun was surprised by Katz's gesture but didn't show it. "Thanks again, pussy cat." he chirped.

"You're welcome," Katz said.

Katz pivoted and made his way to his room once again. Once he climbed up the steps and was in his room with the door shut, the cat flopped onto the bed, too exhausted to care if he wasn't laying in it correctly. Katz fell asleep almost instantly, but before he did, he had to wonder why Cupid decided to show up and hit him and Cajun with his arrows.

֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍

Now, who was it that asked Eros for the favor in the first place? Well, it so happened that Eros returned home to the heavens only to be greeted by a God and Goddess.

"How did it go?" the Goose God inquired.

"Did Courage and the one he loves have a good time?" the Storm Goddess asked.

"I didn't hit Courage with my arrow," Eros admitted.

"What?" they both asked incredulously.

"I hit the cat and the fox with my arrows, and they both fell in love with the dog," continued Eros.

"WHAT?!" they both screamed.

"I wanted to thank the dog for helping me get with Trucky." the Goose God bemoaned.

"And I wanted to thank Courage for reuniting me with my Duncan." the Storm Goddess added as she hugged her precious Duncan. "So, Goose God, and I thought Courage spending time with the one he loves would be a nice early Christmas present from us both."

"But, you somehow managed to screw it up?" the Goose God demanded.

"I may have told the dog I made a mistake when I shot the fox with my last arrow, but I actually knew what I was doing. The dog will get with the cat in due time." Eros told them both.

"So, are you going to make Courage and the cat fall in love with each other?" the Storm Goddess asked.

"Seeing how they already are in love with one another and don't need my help, I'll let them get to that point on their own," Eros explained then left.

Yes, he knew Courage and Katz were in love with each other the moment he set eyes on them, and he could tell the cat was bitter towards the fox involving the dog. So, he gave a little push to get the ball rolling with this seemingly love triangle the cat thought was going on. He stayed and watched the whole thing with his iron arrows ready to cancel out the love his arrows created if things have gotten out of hand. Courage and Katz will become a couple in time; they certainly don't need outside help for that. After all, who knows love better than the God of Love himself?

#Courage the Cowardly Dog #CtCD #CtCD fanfic #fanfic #Courage/Katz #Courage #Katz #Cajun #The Black Puddle Queen #Weremole #The Clutching Foot #Le Quack #love #arrows #The Family that Shouldn't Be #The Queen Who Saved Courage #ThrenodyGrimblood

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monochromemedic · 4 years

Text

A Shitty Beach Episode

Fallon stared out at the beach, smiling wide at the people running, sunbathing and swimming out in front of him. “I can feel the sunburn already tinting my pale skin into crispy bacon... god I missed this did you miss this?” Dom was already laying his towel out, taking his shirt off and throwing it to the side before reaching into his bag and pulling out the sunscreen for Fallon. “I haven’t had a day out of the office in a while. I swear i’m turning into a vampire. So... yeah i’m excited to get cured.” Fallon laughed and ripped his shirt off, throwing it with Dom’s junk. The sunscreen was cool and as much of a dork as he looked, he knew that without it he looked like a tomato at the of the day. The bottle brushed against Silas’ thigh as Fallon suggest him to put it on. Silas only huffed, playing with the t shirt still plastered on his body. “Nah im good man, i’m not gonna take my shirt off anyway.” “What and not show off that bod? You’re gonna drive the ladies crazy man.” “And you’ll get hot.” Dom added, pulling out a book and beginning to read it. “And you’ll get hot.” Silas sat down in the sand, brushing his hair back. “Eh you know. I uh just think I could look better. You know and I didn’t shave today this was a real quick notice.” Dom pipped in again, “I don’t think many people will notice body hair. This isn’t about looking good for other people it’s about staying cool and having a good time. Not to mention I think Fallon and I can agree you look in better shape then the two of us combined.” “No doubt. Sy I WISH I could have a body like yours. You look like a statue or like a soldier or... someone really fit.” Fallon muttered, taking a finger and digging it into the sand. “Well I don’t feel comfortable so i’ll just... swim in this shirt. It’s not a big deal you know.” Fallon raised a brow at Silas, eyeing his face up behind his glasses. He looked uncomfortable and weirdly shy. It was really unlike Silas at all. He knew that there was something up, he rarely saw his friend without a shirt even in situations when he should. Visiting his place and Silas takes a shower? He comes out with a shirt on but just a towel. Wakes up with a shirt on and just underwear. Picking at some stray body hair at times. “Well alright man, you know whatever makes you feel comfortable but... you look pretty damn hot to me.” He said, patting his friend on the shoulder as he gave little sigh, getting up and heading to the water. The other two on the sand stared, face scrunching a bit in confusion. “Don’t go prying Fallon.” “I-I wasn’t going to-” Dom glanced to Fallon, making him grunt and through his hands up in the air a bit. “Ok fine, I just care about the lug can you blame me?” “I care about him too but prying could make things worse. Besides we know he’s self conscious about his body, if there’s more to it then he’ll tell us in time.” Fallon gave a few more grumbles and kicked at the sand, before getting up and stretching, adjusting his sunglasses. “Yeah I guess so. I’m gonna head out. Have fun uh... reading at the beach. Like an old man.” “I will. I’ll love being the old man I am.” he smirked, watching Fallon head off into the water before returning to his book. Silas dived unto the water, surrounding himself in the lapping waves and cool water. It felt great but he couldn’t help feeling the T-shirt cling to his body. It just made him conscious of it all. Maybe he should have worn something else. He should be fitter. Stronger. He had too much body hair and it grossed some people out. Clogged the drain, was scratchy. If he just worked out more, found a better way to remove his hair maybe... He lifted his head from the water and took a breath before beginning to swim along the shoreline, eyebrows furrowed at the thoughts in his head that swarmed him like angry wasps. He just had to try harder, he just needed... something. Fallon stayed by the shoreline, waist deep in the water as he let the waves crash against his torso. Felt nice, though he swore there was some seaweed clinging to his feet. He looked at a few of the other people in the water. A few kids staying close to the shore (Thank god). Older people, people his age. Some pretty people. He stared at a woman, liking the pattern on her bikini. It looked so nice on her, and she looked really pretty. He looked at the man beside her, seeing how buff he looked. God he wished he could grow facial hair like that he was just a- A rather rough wave crashed against him, knocking him head over heels into the shallow waves. When he managed to center himself, he popped his head out of the water only to notice in horror the lack of sunglasses on his face. That familiar black tint to the world, everything was just so damn bright. Fallon’s hands quickly brushed his hair in front of his face, taking a shaky breath as he tried to look around him in the water for his sunglasses. He knew they weren’t there though, as another wave crashed into him and probably sent the glasses further away from wherever they originally were. He began to panic a bit more, the people he noticed early seemed to look at him a bit more. He gritted his teeth and tried to hide even more, hand covering his eyes as he began to stumble back to shore to Dom. Dom looked up from his book a bit surprised at how disheveled he looked. “You lose your glasses? Haha, I told you before you should of took them off.” There was silence from Fallon as he began to search through the bag, hands shakey. “Can you not get everything wet, Fallon I don’t wanna dry-” “SHUT UP.” He hissed, grabbing Dom’s hand that began to reach for the bag. Dom yanked his hand back, shocked at the fingers that dug into his skin. “Where the... FUCK. Are you serious? Damn it Dom...” He clutched his face and covered his face with his hands as he took another shaky breath. “WHO DOESN’T HAVE A PAIR OF GLASSES?” Dom set down his book and grabbed Fallon’s arms, trying to calm him down. “Jesus it’s ok. Hey calm down it’s just a pair of sunglasses...we’ll get you another pair. They’re cheap.” Fallon bit his lip, nodding his head as he blindly reached for his shirt and stuck his head inside of it. “Yeah ok let’s just... do it quick please? Yeah? Yeah?” “Uh... yeah... you ...wanna tell me what the hell’s going on at least? You fucking... scratched up my arm like a tiger!” “I just don’t like being seen without my glasses.” “...Enough to act like this?” Dom asked in disbelief. “I mean I know we just had the talk about Silas but... he’s not yelling and cutting people up because of it!” Fallon took a moment, his feet kicking the sand that clung to his legs nervously before he began to speak. “It’s.. I just... shitty uh ... I don’t like... eyes on me. I don’t like making eye contact man, I don’t like the fucking eyes. It like hurts. Yeah I know it’s... weird, blah blah whatever but i’m weird ok, so it fits!” Dom rubbed his arm cautiously, eyes darting around his friend before he began to look around. “You gonna be ok for a while here? I think there might be a shop nearby.” Fallon nodded his head inside of the shirt and Dom got up, grabbing his shoes and wallet and walking out to the small line up of shops. Dom was confused about the whole thing as he walked. He never... saw Fallon act like that it was really shocking. He couldn’t help touching the scratches on his arm and marveling at how much he dug into him. Eyes? Something about eyes was that his problem? Did he have a phobia? First Silas’s body issues and now this. Dom couldn’t help but think of his own problems, his OCD that wracked his life in secret. Of course he didn’t look like he was a bit unstable in that department but it really did effect him. Needing things to be orderly and counting constantly. The medication helped that was for sure. He closed his eyes a bit, sighing softly. They were a bunch of fucked up guys weren’t they? It didn’t take long for him to come back with a shitty pair of sunglasses, finding Fallon with his head still in his shirt. “Hey bud, here you go.” He waved the pair with the tag still on in front of the shirt hole. Fallon quickly snatched them up, tearing the tag off and placing them on his face under the shirt. Dom watched as he gave a little shutter, hands writhing under the shirt before he took the shirt off, glasses on. “You good?” Fallon nodded his head, hand pushing his soaked hair back as he stared at the ground. “Mmm... i’m... sorry.” was all he could mutter. “You wanna go home?” He nodded his head and Dom began to pack up, waving over Silas who was panting from how much he was swimming back in forth. He didn’t explain much to Silas, he didn’t wanna be that guy, but he just explained that he was gonna give Fallon a ride home and probably head home himself. Silas nodded, saying how it was a good idea and that the entire beach trip wasn’t the best idea in honesty. ‘Maybe next time.’ Yeah... he hoped so.

#fallon's tag #silas' tag #dom's tag #my ocs #original character

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kneewall49 · 4 years

Text

Progress to Foundation Start

August 4, 2020

Yes its been a while, and a lot has happened.

Firstly, as per the previous post, my dear old dad passed away peacefully at Anzac Village, Collaroy. I drove down for the burial at Mona Vale Cemetry, and pretty well straight back as the CV19 2nd phase may have locked down the NSW/Qld border at any time.

Other occurances during the past weeks:

- Foundation start was put back due primartily to an issue with certification of the foundation preperations prior to pour. As my Sydney Engineer couldn’t come to QLD to certify the work, I have had to find a local engineer to do this mandatory stage. Any engineer certifing a design, when not their personal design, will only certify the works if the are identical to the design documents. That’s fine as they don’t want to be blamed for any issue if the works weren’t followed to a tee. That means even the slightest deviation has to be detailed in revised design plans. This hold up in my case made even worse by the fact my engineer in Sydney had a heart attack and is off work so can’t make those modifications. While all this was happening we had lots of rain too, which requires at least 4 days of dry hot weather for the ground to cope with excuvation work. All in all a bugger of a hold up.

- What could be done was progress on the landscaping, which you can see from the photos. All cuts are now covered by mulch and looking good. Plantings under the direction of Cherly also happened, and it’s all looking good. The rain was good for this stage of course.

- Finished the drain across the driveway where it meets the building pad to divert driveway runoff behind the house.

- Had time to complete the front driveway entrance wall and its embossing of the house name “Casa Marnie”. The house that inspired our design, a Brazillian house named “Terra Casa”, but “Marnie Casa” didn’t sound right, thus “Casa Marnie”. We were very apprehensive of the outcome but on pulling off the form work it looked perfect!

- Had my first onsite fall. I was walking along the top of the retaining wall to water the newly planted ground cover plantings, holding a bucket of water in each hand (our hose won’t go that far). A miss step or loose rock, I’m not sure which, caused me to fall sideways off the wall. but instead of falling straight down to the pad, I fell down in between the rock wall and the temporay powerbox and the star pickets holding it in place. I fell sideways stright onto my shoulder with a good dosing of water to boot. After a few seconds ascertaing what just happened I managed to extract my self from the wedged in situation. Of course I had scratches and holes here and there, but was very lucky I missed being skewered on the ground earth rod embedded just beside the boix. It’s now has a orange safety mushroom afixed to its uper end (see photo). Just a few inches off in my fall could have meant an impaling, and I guess a very nasty outcome.

- over the last few weeks I have lined up the following Certifing Engineer, Steel Detailer (for the structural steel), an electrician and plumber for service rough-in, reinforcing steel estimator/supplier, pile driller and a concretor.

The plan is:

- confirm reo order and delivery for the Guestroom, we’ll tackle the main buidling seperately;

- mark out the foundation excuvations;

- select concrete supllier;

- then await a weather forecast which shows a week of no rain;

- hire an excuvator (machine) to dig beam trenches;

- have the contractor drill the pier holes;

- set up the reinforcing steel over excuvations for certification;

- drop the reo into the pier and beam excuvations;

- have plumber and electrician rough in service access thru the beams for later drainage, water and electricity connections;

- pour the piers and beams, in one go;

- concretor contractor boxes up the slab;

- have termite person lag the services intrusions thru the slab.

- concretor pours the slab!

Emm sounds like a lot, and it is! No doubt you’ll find out how it all goes next time. Fingers crossed.

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randaccidents · 4 years

Text

Breaking and Entering

Ah the first week of school! The easiest way to drain all your writing juices. Stuffs gonna slow down from here and not like 3 fics a week like what I was doing, but I’m unlikely (cause I never finish promises) to stop now cause I have like *leans over to check* about 10 WIP fics I wanna write with new ideas every week soooooo...

Right the fic! Its a fic! Yayy I wrote things. The dialogue might come off as clunky cause school punched me in the guts while I was trying to write that.

Shadow People AU from the wondrous mind of @mine-sara-sp

TW: toxic thoughts, self-harm, self-blame, description and talk of that loneliness that seeps into your chest and hooks in deep and never ever wants to let go making you doubt your actions

Crypt broke into someone’s base and left with the real treasure and a no-no word gets thought.

The pickaxe shatters in his hands. Mechanically, he replaces it with another, adding to his internal count. That was the fifth iron pick he’s broken thus far. Another 3 to break before he had to surface and go to the shadow meetup. The thought of that made the hole in his chest feel twice as large, and he swung his pick hard enough that the shattered rock flew in large chunks around him.

It wasn’t that he was feeling lonely or left out. He had friends. He had 3D, and Phas, and TFC, and Abyss, and the grey stone that surrounded him on all sides. He had a pick in hand, a reason to keep chipping away at stone walls all day. He was fine!

...and he was a big old fool, to continue to believe that lie.

Collecting another pile of coal, he silently wondered if this was what the other shadows saw of him. A useless lump of black, easily replaced by better sources of fuel and light, cast aside like it was nothing. Bitterly, he broke the next block of stone, left hand holding onto the coal piece. Now he had only one use, like the coal he held - to ensure that 3D remained happy and unbothered by the venom of the other shadows, just like how the coal was only useful for torches that lit up the few blocks surrounding it. Ugly, practical, no use in the canvas of almost every build.

So deep into his bitterness, it came as a surprise when he broke through into a cavernous room. This wasn’t the first time he had broken into another person’s base, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. He guessed that he should check whose base this was and its size before he closed the hole he made in the wall, if only so that he wouldn’t accidentally break into it again.

Stepping through the hole, the first thing he noticed was just how large and sprawling the whole build was. This was going to be a pain to dig around, he could just feel it. Looking around, he took note of the many scattered blocks of precious ores lying around the room. This hermit seemed to be very rich. He would guess Jevin, but the slime wasn’t disorganised with his ores. Maybe Scar? The build of the room didn’t quite hold enough details to pin it to the hermit though. Looking around, he felt the beginnings of anxiety rise up his throat as he fully registered the scale of the room, how open it felt to stand under its ceiling. Picking a random hallway, he ducked into it and began counting how many blocks wide this end of the build was.

Walking down the large hallway, Crypt peered into every room he came across, curiosity overriding his earlier anxieties and bitterness. It’s been a long while since he had broken into someone’s base, although that was mostly because he heard this season was all about building up the overworld. Feeling the loneliness of being left out beginning to choke up his insides, he quickly ducked into the nearest room, slipping past the door in search of a distraction.

To his surprise, he found a room full of greenery and wildlife, parrots and bunnies and wolves and other animals lazing about the room. Looking up revealed a glass covered ceiling, redstone lamps shining through coloured glass to give everything a pleasant blue tint. Light humming music drifted through the room, backlit by the sound of water flowing through the room. Crypt took another step into the room, entranced. The room was expertly put together, a feeling of openness enmeshed with closeness in a dizzying mix of comfort he never thought he could feel in such an open room. Leaning against a nearby hand-crafted tree, Crypt closed his eyes. The room felt so isolated, cut off from the world around, that he couldn’t help but feel at peace. Despite all that, some small part of him was still counting the seconds, waiting for the moment he was meant to surface from the underground and meet up with 3D. He might have time to be alone now, but he’s meant to be easy to deal with, so he counts the seconds in his head instead of in the durability of his pickaxe.

Once he’s mentally reached two iron pickaxes left, he pushed himself off the tree. Stretching, he looked out wistfully over the garden room. This had been a great place to relax after his exhaustingly painful thoughts, but he still had to count the size and shape of the whole base. Turning away, he headed for the entrance.

And came face to face with two identical shadows, frozen in the doorway staring at him. He similarly froze, caught like a sheep eyed by wolves.

One of the two shadows seemed to snap himself out of it first. He came walking forward, holding out a hand to Crypt. “Hi, Crypt right? I don’t think we really got to meet properly considering what happened the last time we saw each other. I’m Cavalier! Welcome to the Hoard!”

Crypt looked down at the hand offered to him. Noting down the purple-and-yellow feathered wristband the shadow - Cavalier - wore, he added another identifiable shadow to his mental list of those he knew as he grasped the hand in a warm shake. Who else was new here that he had never met? Who else did he meet and never remember? Swallowing the sudden surge of bitterness, he gave Cavalier a warm smile. “Yes, I’m Crypt. I don’t quite remember where I met you first, but you are a very kind shadow.”

He could sense the moment when he messed up, feel the sudden tension run a rod straight through Cavalier into his grasp. “I’m not a kind shadow.” whispered Cavalier, his eyes averted and refusing to meet his.

Well, he couldn’t have any of that. No matter how toxic this line of thinking was, only he was allowed to feel sad in any form. He squeezed the hand he held lightly. “Cavalier, I may not know who you were or what you have done before I met you, but you have yet to drive me out of what is clearly your house, instead welcoming me for visiting. You are kind.”

“And so are you Crypt, to comfort Cavalier so quickly.”

The voice might have sounded like Cavalier’s, but it didn’t fool Crypt. Meeting Paladin’s eyes, he offered up a fragile smile. “Hello Paladin. Speaking of which, I may have broken into your area by accident. Is it alright for me to measure the size of this Hoard of yours?”

Paladin looked up at the ceiling in thought. Crypt felt Cavalier let go of his hand, the shadow moving to lean against Paladin to whisper into his ear, and felt a stab of jealousy that he quickly buried. No, he wasn't jealous of their bond, not at all.

"There might be a few problems with that actually," Paladin began, holding up his hand as they began to list out his reasons. "Firstly, the Hoard kinda twists and turns a lot, branching out in many directions. Secondly, I’m pretty sure that Keloid and Avarice intend to keep expanding the Hoard. Third, I kind of have a forge in here that may or may not expand. So it’s going to be difficult for you to really measure something that’s going to keep expanding.”

Crypt sighed dejectedly. This direction would be blocked off to him then. Reminding himself that he was meant to be easy to handle, he steeled his heart and gave them as careless a wave as he could. “It’s no matter. I can always tunnel another direction.” The durability counted steadily downwards in his mind. He turned and began walking towards the doorway, throwing a final comment over his shoulder. “I’ll show myself out. Sorry to break in.”

“Wait!” A hand grabbed his arm, bringing him to a gentle halt. He turned, raising an eyebrow at Cavalier. The shadow fidgeted under his gaze, suddenly uncertain of himself. "Uhm, since we didn't really meet before, a-and I don't know when we'll meet again, do you want to join us for a bit? Just to chat? You don't have to if you're busy, I understand!"

Looking at Cavalier was a mistake. Crypt questioned how anyone could say no to Cavalier. Sighing good-naturedly, he moved to a tree behind Cavalier, patting his helmet as he passed. Sliding to a sitting position, he smiled up at the stunned duo. "Well? I don't have a season you know."

Cavalier was quick to rectify that problem, practically throwing himself to the floor before Crypt, to the amusement of the other two in the room. Stomach down on the floor, he interlaced his fingers in a peak, resting his head upon it. Paladin leaned himself against Cavalier's side, amusement written across his face. Cavalier spoke up, not pausing for a single faux-breath. "What do you normally do? I don't see you around much, but you're from last season so you must have done something, right?"

Crypt smiled down at the excited shadow. Having someone be curious about him, wanting to know about him, was something new and foreign and oh so lovely. With warmth bubbling through his chest, he began to answer.

"You're right, I am from last season. But normally…"

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

Paladin was mid-rant about the difficulties of smelting emerald into workable tools when Crypt's mental timer went off, snapping the last pickaxe in twain. It was time to meet up with 3D for the shadow meetup. He found that he didn't want to leave, comfortable in his surroundings and the people around him, who were genuinely interested in what he had to say. But he had a job to do.

With a small grunt of effort, he pushed himself to his feet, cutting off Paladin's rant. "Crypt, what's wrong?" he asked, concerned. The tone of voice made Crypt shake his head wistfully. Ah, to feel concern for him not borne of pity. He hefted the pickaxe he still held in his right hand. "It's about time for the shadow meetup. I have to meet with 3D, and I suggest you two prepare to leave too, or you might be late. See you fellas around soon."

Turning, he headed straight for the exit, only for a whisper of words to stop him in his tracks. "We haven't been in weeks, not since the first time Cav went…"

Whipping around, Crypt regarded the two shadows before him. Paladin was glaring at the ground, face severe. Beside him, Cavalier had managed to sit up, his face reflecting pained memories. Something dropped in the pit of his stomach. He could just comfort them, he knew, but part of him screamed to, for once, know what had happened. He asked the dreaded question, voice as gentle as he could without sounding like pity. He out of every shadow would know that pity helped no one. "What happened the first time?"

Cavalier's hand moved to clutch his wrist, tightening around the wristband that lay there as he looked away. "You know the one you shouted at?" Paladin asked.

He flinched. Oh, so it was his fault. He really shouldn't have tried to connect to the loop. Paladin looked up at him, face softening. "It wasn't you. You saved him actually. Coda was going to destroy his wristband."

"I fail to see the problem."

Paladin tilted his head at Cavalier, directing his attention. He could see Cavalier's fingers tighten, cutting holes into his arm. He wanted to comfort the shadow who had been so happy just minutes ago, yet he could tell that if he moved from his spot, neither of them would tell him what had happened.

And he was so tired of not knowing what had happened.

"You know Puzzler?" At his nod, Cavalier continued, fingers digging further. "He gave those who served him gifts. I was one of them. All the gifts were supposed to be destroyed after the war, but I kept mine. It's… important. To me." Cavalier turned his gaze to his wristband. "They didn't like that."

He found himself wanting to know more, to understand this part of the war no one wanted to talk about. But he could also see when his questioning would only cause grief. Moving to kneel before the knights, he gently began to pry Cavalier's fingers open. "Is that why you said you weren't kind? Because of what you did in the past?"

Cavalier's small nod, his guilty body language, reminded him so much of 3D. He patted the shadow's hand as he pried open the final finger. "But you're trying to be better now, to repair relations with them, and that's proof enough that you are kind."

Another hand pressed over theirs, making Crypt lift his head. Paladin was still looking away from them, but the shake of his hands spoke for him. Crypt squeezed his hand, prompting a sigh. "Trying works for him.” he whispered, voice choked and bitter. “Me? Two seasons later and only one new family member to show for it. I don’t think anyone notices if I’m even there. Makes it that much harder to be there for him. So we don't go anymore."

He heard the loneliness, the pained longing to be part of a community in Paladin's voice. It was a pain that he was well versed in. Some part of him guiltily rejoiced, he didn't expect to find someone else who understood, but it was overshadowed by his friends’ - could he call them friends? He decided that he would. - hurt. Gently, he pressed their combined hands to his forehead. “I understand,” he murmured, pushing himself to encompass all of his sincerity in his limited words. “It hurts, when no one cares enough to know if you’re even there anymore, or ask where you went. It’s a hole in your chest, something that doesn’t fill up because no one truthfully takes you seriously." He squeezed gently, ignoring the insistent sound of shattering iron in his head. "But you're not alone. You have each other, and from what I know those vexed shadows care too. Being in the loop is not the best, in all honesty. No one really cares about how little old Crypt feels anyway."

"But I- we do." came the soft whisper from his left, from the hand with purple and yellow wrapped around its wrist. The hand leading towards blue didn't respond, shifting as if to pull away. Crypt held on tight, lifting his head to meet their gazes. Paladin was quick to break off, looking away guiltily even as Cavalier held his gaze. Normally, this would have hurt more, reopened the hole in his chest. But after their conversations, after them both listening attentively to him rant about stones without judgement, their tones of concern and desire to be with him, he instead felt immense sadness that they couldn't see that they cared, and were kind.

Was this what Abyss meant when he said he was blind?

Paladin was still turned away from him. How could he comfort someone who wasn't even looking? A small memory poked at the back of his mind, and he let it guide him. Twisting his body slightly, he leaned forward to rest against Paladin's side, just as Phas always did with him. He thinks that it was a form of comfort. He knows that Paladin and Cavalier enjoyed touch, always reaching for a hand to hold. He hopes that this wasn't the wrong choice, feeling the knight tense up at his touch.

Then, Paladin relaxed, leaning into him in return. Crypt felt another presence press hesitantly against his back. He shifted slightly, allowing the presence to slot in among them, softly and gently cradled against his being. It was… warmth, something sliding in to fill a gap in his chest.

Paladin shifted slightly, poking him in the side. “Didn’t you say you had to go to the shadow meetup?”

… fuck.

He jumped out of the comfortable pile of shadows and headed for the door, grabbing his pickaxe as words stumbled out of his mouth. “I have to go so sorry it was nice meeting you two.”

Twin voices vocalised their goodbyes as he turned the corner and ran down the hallway. A voice snaked its way along the walls, carrying a question. “Will you come back and visit again?”

He blinked, seeing his shadow fly across the walls and keep pace with him, a perfect replica of his body. Shaking his head good-naturedly, he gave his shadow a grin and a thumbs up. Turning another corner, he left his unnaturally formed shadow behind, the shape buzzing excitedly as it zoomed back down the hall.

Bursting into the large cavern from earlier, Crypt quickly located the hole he had made and dove in, rushing to make up for lost time. It wasn’t until he hit the first branch in the passageway that he stopped, a problem suddenly before him.

He’d promised he would visit. He wanted to visit. But he didn’t have anything to mark the route to the Hoard. Rummaging through his inventory, he came across the pile of coal he had mined earlier. Bingo. Pulling out the dusty sticks TFC had summoned him with, he jerry-rigged a few torches together, striking the coal against shards of stone. Placing the torch down, he spared a second to admire his ingenuity before the mental striking of broken pickaxes sent him careening down the strip mine, torches lighting up every branch, something forgotten given new use.

#shadow people au #crypt #paladin #cavalier #me? writing from a perspective that isn't knights? more likely than you think #this was meant to be comfort but then the hurty held me at gunpoint #but its ties well #sorry if its messy school is a bitch #aight trigger tags time #toxic thoughts #self-harm #self-blame #extreme loneliness #sad bois in general too #my writing #I give these boys more friends

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firesoulstuff · 5 years

Text

Welcome Back (To The Freakshow)

My first Doom Patrol Fic!

Takes places after the last episode (1x09)

Jane’s been quiet these past few days.

That’s fine; she went through a lot in the underground.

When she didn’t come to dinner that night Cliff made her Baby Doll’s favorite, he’s pretty sure she likes those sandwiches too, and brought it up to her room.

“Jane?” He’d asked, knocking lightly as his clunky hands would. “I uh… I made you a sandwich.” No answer.

“Look, I know uh… I know you’ve just been through a lot and you probably don’t want to talk about it but, um, if you need anything, you know where to find me. Ok?” Again he didn’t receive an answer.

“I’m just gonna leave this here.” He said and nudged the plate through the slot in her door, and he groaned internally when he heard it shatter.

He hadn’t really thought she would want to talk, at least not anytime soon, and he gets that sometimes he can be impatient, but it’s been almost a week now and still she has hardly said anything, about anything.

Not just anything concerning the underground, anything at all.

She murmurs a few small “yes’s” and “no’s” when asked a question, and more disturbingly “pleases and thank you’s” when asking for something; Rita dropped a glass the first time she heard it.

She hasn’t even told any of them to fuck off since the ordeal; in fact he isn’t sure if she’s even used the word fuck, it’s weird.

He’s also a little worried about the others, cause he hasn’t seen so much as one sign of Hammerhead, Baby Doll, or even Silver Tongue. Then again Penny had seemed pretty insistent on getting Jane back to the surface, so maybe they all felt the same and are taking a break from driving.

She’s sitting at the counter when he walks into the kitchen, although why the fuck he ever bothers coming into the kitchen is beyond him, but still, she’s alone.

“Hey,” he says, trying to sound cheery, “You want to watch a movie tonight? Rita’s finally coming around on stuff she isn’t in; I’m trying to convince her to go for Karate Kid.”

Nothing.

“I think I got Cyborg on board, your vote would give us majority.”

Nothing.

“Jane?”

Still nothing.

He isn’t going to push further than that, so he opens up a cabinet and starts checking the rattraps, because fuck if he is going to let another rat-

“I’m not Jane.”

He freezes, then swivels his head. She’s still sitting there, picking at a loose thread on the cuff of her sweatshirt.

She looks like Jane, no eyeliner but otherwise like Jane.

“So which one are you?”

She doesn’t answer him with words. Instead she curls in on herself even further than she already is and starts to cry.

“Whoa, hey. Hey I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry.” He stutters, trying to think of something to say.

He takes a step closer, his instinct is to put his hands on her shoulders but given his current situation with hands and his tendency to sometimes grip things too hard he doesn’t want to accidentally wind up hurting her. Besides, given the demons she’s faced lately, and the lack of Hammerhead to tell him, he isn’t sure how she’d react to touch.

So he stands awkwardly in front of her, waiting while her tears peter out, and when they turn to hiccups he decides he can make himself useful by getting her a glass of water.

Her hiccups are coming in rapid squeaks by the time he places the glass on the counter, and she reaches forward with a trembling hand.

“Th..th…tha..”

“Easy,” he hums, “Take your time, you don’t want to choke.”

She nods, and then promptly ignores him and attempts drinking the water. She chokes, of course, and he can’t help her because anything his stupid metal limbs try to do will only end up hurting her.

“Shit, what did I just say?” She tries to choke out an apology, and if he could roll his eyes he would, but instead he gets more water and at least this time she has the sense to wait until she can breathe for longer than half a second at a time.

“Sorry.” She finally manages after draining the second glass.

“It’s ok.” He says, and while she wipes at her eyes he pulls up a chair and takes a seat. “So, you’re not Jane?”

It isn’t really a question, even if he asks it like one. She nods anyway, and suddenly he is very afraid because, well, she’s been like this ever since they came back from the trip into her mind.

And he knows that was Jane at the well.

“Ok, so what’s your name?”

She shutters, her hands going back to the empty glass and gripping it so tight he almost thinks she might shatter it.

“I’m Kay.”

Her voice is heavy, like the name should mean something important. But all he knows about Kay is she’s the one he met in Bernheim, and then he was told to neverask about her again. So what is he supposed to-?

“Kay Challis?”

“My name is Miranda.”

“Miranda was a primary, like Jane.”

“You should see your true essence.”

Fuck.

She’s still gripping that glass, her teeth digging into her lip.

“You… You’re the…” The what? The real one? No, Jane is real. Hammerhead is real. Baby Doll, Penny, Karen; they’re all real. But Kay is… maybe original is the word he’s looking for. But that makes her sound like a science experiment.

“Yeah.” She mutters, like she doesn’t know what to classify herself as any better than he does.

“Jane trusts you, right?” She asks after a very awkward silence.

“Uh… I think so. I mean, she’s never said anything but the others have told me she does.”

She nods and puts down the glass, her fingers curling into the fabric of her sleeves again and she looks anywhere but at him.

“I’m not very good at talking to the others.” She says, “The things they’ve seen, the things they’ve done… I don’t remember any of it. It’s like I’ve been asleep, for a long time.”

He almost asks how long, but given the fact that she was just a kid in school when the teacher started yelling at her for insisting she was Miranda, he’s pretty sure he doesn’t want the answer. His next instinct is to ask about the last thing she does remember, but there is a very good chance that thing will be a certain douchebag and hearing about it will have him putting more holes in the concrete walls of the basement. Again.

“You don’t remember anything from your life?” He finally decides on, and then just for clarity’s sake adds “After…”

“I remember feelings.” She says thoughtfully. “And names, and facts. I know where I am, how to paint, do math, and who you all are. But, I don’t remember learning any of it. My mind’s just kind of like, ‘Ok, you’re here now. Here’s what you need to know.’ But I don’t remember anything about any of it.”

He nods along with her words, though if he’s being totally honest he isn’t sure he follows exactly. Doesn’t matter, he’s a little more concerned with the sudden look of fear on her face.

“And… I remember Bernheim.”

Right, because that psychopath had forced her out.

She looks like she might start crying again, and he can’t blame her. She hadn’t been ready to come out then, she’d been ripped out of whatever little mental room of safety she’d built for herself so long ago.

But she’s here now, of her own accord.

“I remember Bernheim too.” He says, “I mean, I couldn’t see you, ya know, because I was a brain. But I could feel it when you picked me up, which thank you, by the way, I’m not sure if that message got to you.”

She giggles, a real giggle he knows he has never seen on any of the personalities, not even Baby Doll or Karen.

“You’re welcome.” She says, but as soon as the smile’s come it fades, and she looks worried again.

“Um… Jane and the others are all still a part of me, I think. But…”

“But you’re gonna be the one on the surface from now on.”

“I’m gonna try to be.”

He nods, and he’ll admit this is one of those very rare times where he’s grateful to be a robot; no tears to betray him.

“But, because I’m not very good with communicating with them, can you give Jane a message for me? The next time you see her?”

“Of course.”

“Can you tell her thank you?” She asks; her fists now fully curled into the worn cuffs of her hoodie, her teeth nibbling at the edges. “For protecting me?”

“Yeah, yeah I can do that.”

He’s pretty sure he sounds a little too eager, but for the record, this is the first of her personalities whom he hasn’t had to immediately fight tooth and nail for so much as a conversation (except for maybe Penny), never mind asking him for a favor.

She nods and mutters a quiet “thank you”, and gets off her stool and starts to leave.

“Oh, and Cliff?” She says; he hadn’t even realized she’d turned back.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

#doom patrol #1x09 #crazy jane #cliff steele #kay challis #fanfic

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mangled-dreams · 6 years

Text

September 3rd.

September 3rd is the hardest day of the year for me. I lost my baby cousin when he was just one month shy of his 10th birthday. Today he would have been 18 years old. I never allowed myself to grieve properly, so his birthday is really hard for me. Even as I type this I’m crying. His death was an accident and I know it wasn’t anyone’s fault but... it doesn't change that he’s not here...

Rocking back and forth on your bed your hands cover your face, pressing roughly into your closed eyes. “I don’t want to feel anything.” You whisper rocking back and forth helpless against the feelings choking you. Death would be easier than this.

Chanting to yourself over and over again you don’t want to feel anything you try to force yourself to forget the date, to forget how important it is. You don’t want to remember, you don’t want to feel anything.

Tears fall without fail even as you try to hold them back. Choked sobs breath through your lips. Your hands fall from your face to wrap around your shoulders hugging you back together when you feel like falling apart.

You know emotions aren’t bad, that you should be able to express yourself without fear but that’s not what you saw as a child. You learned to hide your pain, your fear, to hid basically everything but happiness and even that has a limit. You’re so accustomed to hiding how you really feel from everyone that even sitting in your room, alone and without any living soul around you can’t allow yourself to grieve.

“This too shall pass.” You whisper in place of pleading to feel nothing. In an attempt to distract yourself you put on a movie, a childhood favorite. While it holds your gaze it does nothing for the pain or the tears.

Twisting your grip you dig your nails into your shoulders in an attempt to further distract your mind from the hole in your heart. It’s been over 8 years since his passing, but even still today doesn’t get any better. You’re sure you’ve fooled yourself into thinking he’s still alive and well, growing up as a child should until his birthday rolls around.

“I miss you so much.” You sobs pressing your eyes closed. It hurts how hard you’re forcing yourself to clench up, but you hope that maybe--just maybe you won’t feel the pain anymore. But like the times you’ve done this before, it doesn’t work. The pain remains, almost stronger than before.

You know this pain is nothing compared to the fear, the sheer panic and cries for salvation he must have gone through. To die is sad and horrible in itself but to die trapped in a truck that’s gone into the river… The thought is unbearable to comprehend. Little hands searching for a way out as water fills the cabin.

The feeling of water covering every inch of his body as he desperately searches for a why to survive, searching for his uncle who’d been right next to him. Slowly his life drained from him one inhale of water at a time.

You feel the twist in your stomach at the thought. Your breath quickens at the phantom feeling of water rising up your neck towards your mouth. Call it an overactive imagination but within seconds you feel cold and without breath.

Eyes snapping open you drag in a deep clean breath dispelling the feeling of icy water entering your mouth and nose. Your sobs carry through your empty home. Your chest hurts, your eyes sting, and worst of all the cycle never ends.

“He was only ten.”

Covering your face with your hands again you curl into yourself falling to your side. Today would have been his 18th birthday. What kind of man would he have become? Would he be off to university on a baseball scholarship? Would he have found someone to love? Or would he have been a heartbroken teen trying to better himself? Would he be the same sweet boy? Would he have taken after his father? Or his mother?

Of course you’re not the only one to think like this, but you keep these thoughts, these questions to yourself out of respect to your aunt and uncle and other family members. It’s actually because of your family and FACEBOOK that you’re like this right now.

You know eventually you’ll become a sobbing gross mess but their posts about missing him, about wondering who he’d be, and posting photos of him that were taken through his short lived life that brought you to this point. You don’t blame them. Everyone grieves in the own way, yous just happens to be alone in your room crying until your tears turn to blood.

An exaggeration but still there is a little truth to it. You cry until your eyes are bloodshot red and there are red splotches on your cheeks and the way around your eyes.it’s not a good look the next day, but that’s what makeup is for.

Anti stands with his back against the wall outside your bedroom careful to keep hidden. He’s known you almost for as long as your young cousin has been gone. Each year he stays with you in silence and secret. The first year he’d been with you when his birthday came around. He hadn’t been the most understanding at the time.

There are not a large or even a few things Anti regrets in his existence, but how he handled seeing you break down completely is his biggest regret. He’d realized just how badly he fucked up when you refused to discuss it and even went so far as to avoid him for days--nearly a week after. He’d never been so bothered by someone’s obvious disappointment in him as he’d been seeing it in your eyes.

As a result you actively avoid him for a few days after your cousin’s birthday, at least until the blemishes clear up and you can look him in the eye. This year must be even more difficult for you. He assumes it’s because your cousin would be 18 years old and considered an adult. He’d be graduating high school in the summer.

Glancing through the door with care Anti watches you slowly sit up, your fists rubbing against your ever leaking eyes. You look absolutely horrible and it breaks his heart. Well, whatever is left in his chest.

Within the blink of an eye he’s standing at the edge of your bed next to you. His gaze is without judgement as he waits for you to spot him. Part of him hoped you’d be happy to see him, that you’d be happy to have someone there for you, but the look on your already sad face wounds him.

“A-Anti… what are you doing here?” You asks taking a deep painful breath. Your lungs feel overworked, as if you’re breathing fire, and your eyes hurt so much from all the tears. If you knew it was possible you’d say you cried them dry and shoved sand into them.

Anti doesn’t answer you. You’re taken back by his silence and continue to stare up at in. You have no idea what he could be doing in your house right now. Without so much as a word Anti sits next to you, the bed creaking under his weight.

You should really buy a new bed.

“Anti?” You whisper trying your hardest to pull your emotions back into the badly cracked bottle you keep them all in.

If possible his gaze softens before your every eyes. He twists to wrap his arms around you, pulling you into his lap with ease. You gasp and sob at the same time. It hurts. Tears bubble on your lashes again.

Anti doesn’t know what to say. He’s never needed to comfort anyone before. He’s seen people do it before but nothing felt like something he’d do. Hugging you to his chest with a comfortable amount of pressure Anti finally says, “It’s okay to show your emotions.”

Your brows pinch together at his words. No one’s ever said those words to you. You’ve said them to others, may times, but to have them said to you but none other than Anti… You break down.

Turning to push your face into his shoulder you grip his shirt tightly and without reservation cry. You wail and sob, letting out over 8 years of pain and inner turmoil out for once. You never thought you’d have someone to just hold you and let you let out everything.

You feel no judgement from Anti, no expectation of any favor in return; there’s just two friends being there for each other. Well, one friend letting the other grossly sob into their shirt. When you can think and talk properly again you’ll offer to buy Anti a new shirt and dinner as a thank you, but until then you’ll cling to him.

When you’ve just about cried yourself into an immobile state Anti lays you down on the bed and joins you, much to your surprise. With what little strength you have left you curl into his side maintaining some skin to skin contact for comfort. Anti doesn’t move away, in fact he scoots closer to you and draps a light fleece over your body.

Brushing your hair away from your face he runs a thumb over your red splotchy cheeks. Weakly you open your eyes to look at Anti. The disappointment he’d seen all those years ago are replaced with appreciation and love.

“Thank you, Anti. For… for everything.” You whisper through the pain of your dry and worn out throat.

Finally Anti smiles. It’s small but holds the weight of the world. It’s humbling and makes you feel better. “Anything for you doll face.”

If you had it in you, you’d chuckle. Instead you close your eyes. He can call you whatever cute nickname he wants. “Shh, sleep.” Anti chuckles for you.

“As you wish.” Anti responds. Without ever moving the lights and your TV turn off. A comfortable silence and the sound of Anti’s breathing lull you into sleep. Thankfully this year you don’t dream of your cousin’s death.

You thank Anti for that maricle.

For the remaining years of your life Anti is there to comfort you on your darkest days and blackest nights, and you wouldn’t trade his company for anything in the world.

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randomly-random-jen · 6 years

Text

Heaven Can’t Wait - Chapter 36

Chapter Thirty-Six - Show a Little Respect

The mess hall is quiet when they get there. It’s in between meals and obvious word’s already traveled. People are in shock and scared. It’s a vivid reminder of why they’re in here. The tension in the room would need a chainsaw to get through it.

Bellamy finds Harper and Monty sitting at a table drinking tea. More like staring into their steaming mugs. He sets Heaven across from them and digs her uneaten apples from his pocket. She immediately gets to feeding Bae. Nobody says anything for a long time.

“Is it as bad as they’re saying?” Harper finally asks.

Bellamy rubs his face. “Seven dead. They were still working on Jaha when I left. It doesn’t look good, though.”

Harper huffs. “Good. If anyone deserves to die, it’s that asshole.”

Monty slams his hand onto the table, getting the attention of just about everyone in the room. “Show a little respect,” he growls. There’s a twinge of danger in his voice Bellamy’s never heard before. “He nearly died fixing the station for you. Risking his life so you can have lights. Not all of them were so lucky.”

The color drains from Harper’s face, but she grits her teeth. “He got hundreds killed with his stupid City of Light. He’s-”

“And I murdered three hundred eighty-five people in Mt. Weather. We’ve all killed. Some of us more than others. At least Jaha can say he was under the influence of the psychotropic effects of ALIE. I only have myself to blame.” Monty visibly shakes with barely contained fury.

“Monty,” Harper says weakly, reaching for him, but he turns away.

She looks to Bellamy, obviously confused by Monty’s outburst. Bellamy’s stomach sours and knots. Has Monty been feeling that way the entire time? God, why didn’t I pay more attention? Bellamy wishes he knew what to say, but he’s not sure there even is anything.

People at other tables whisper and look over their shoulders at them. Bellamy presses a thumb between his eyes, groaning internally. It’s been one catastrophe after another. Guilt gnaws at him. His friends are falling apart, and he was too wrapped up in his own pathetic life to notice. He glances at Heaven who’s watching them with a furrowed brow. Maybe not so pathetic. But that isn’t going to last much longer. Then what excuse will I have?

A chair screeches across the floor. Murphy spins it around, straddling it at the end of the table, a bottle of water twisting in his hands.

Harper glares at him. “What do you want?”

The water bottle slams onto the table. “What is your problem, McIntyre?”

“You are always my problem, Murphy.”

“I’m honored to be in your thoughts so often, but you’re not my type,” he says with a smirk.

“Murphy,” Bellamy warns, with a sigh. “Do you need something?”

“I thought you’d want an update on Raven.” The plastic bottle crinkles in his hands.

“How is she?”

“Abby gave her something to calm down when they wouldn’t let her in MedBay. I took her back to Engineering. She didn’t need to sit there wallowing in her guilt. She said she was fine, but I wouldn’t leave her alone for too long, though.”

“I’ll go check on her,” Monty murmurs, shoulders slumped like the weight of the world rests on them.

Harper follows him, but when he shakes off her hand, she leaves the other way.

Bellamy sighs. “Thanks, Murphy, I appreciate it.”

Murphy shrugs like it’s no big deal then reaches across the table, pulling Harper and Monty’s discarded tea over, placing one in front of Bellamy and sipping the other. Bellamy just stares at it.

“Don’t tell me you’re this upset about Jaha, too. I get Raven—they’ve been working together for years—but you?”

Bellamy ignores the comment. “I didn’t get much sleep.”

“Kid keeping you up?”

Bellamy glances at Heaven who’s playing with her food, pretending to feed it to her doll. “No, my demons.”

Murphy looks like he wants to say more, but Clarke appears at the other side of the table and sits with a ration bar, face bleak. “I missed breakfast,” she tells them but makes no attempt to eat.

“Well, you didn’t miss much,” Murphy says like nothing is wrong. “Or so I heard. I got roped into sorting shit in Engineering again.” He glares at his water bottle.

“Here,” says Clarke. She slides the ration to Murphy. “I don’t think I can eat anyway.”

He rips a chunk off, popping it in his mouth then takes the tea from Bellamy and sets it in front of Clarke. “You should drink that—you look like you need it.”

Clarke stares at it a moment, pale and glassy-eyed, before taking a sip. “Jaha didn’t make it,” she whispers after putting down the cup.

Murphy’s hand pauses halfway to his mouth, but he doesn’t say anything.

Oh god. She was helping in MedBay. Bellamy’s seen what the rain does to people—it’s something he can never unsee. Without thinking, he reaches across the table and squeezes her hand. She flips hers over, gripping his fingers.

A jolt shoots up his arm, setting off the butterflies again which are both comforting and inappropriate. Now isn’t the time. Clarke just needs a friend to lean on not a pining fool. Heaven eyes their hands, chewing her apple violently. Murphy continues to act like everything is normal, eating his ration bar, eyes distant.

The whole scene is surreal and yet feels perfectly natural—like the four of them have lunch together every day. There’s a small part of him that wishes it were true.

Then Niylah joins them.

Bellamy’s butterflies turn to lead. He pulls his hand slowly from Clarke’s, pretending he needs to help Heaven with something as an excuse—not that Clarke notices. Niylah asks Clarke something in Grounder. Clarke whispers back then the other woman pulls her into a hug. Bellamy’s stomach is a black hole of emotion, sucking his lungs and heart down into it until it’s hard to breathe. When he looks up, Murphy’s watching him, and he swears there’s pity in his eyes. And understanding. What’s that about?

Before he can figure it out, Murphy stands suddenly, breaking the awkward tension at the table. He tosses the rest of his rations at Heaven. “See, this is called sharing, kid. You should learn it some time.” Heaven glares at Murphy then the food then Murphy again before grabbing the ration bar to add to her collection. Murphy snorts. “I’m gonna go check on Emori. She doesn’t like to leave our quarters alone.”

“Why not?” Clarke asks.

He doesn’t say anything for a long moment like he’s trying to figure out if Clarke is serious or not. Then lets out a breath. “It’s not safe for her. In case you hadn’t noticed, they’re not particularly welcoming towards Grounders around here.”

“And,” Niylah adds softly, “the other Grounders still see her as an outcast. She won’t be welcome there either.”

“No, she’s not,” Murphy agrees, bitterly.

Bellamy frowns. “Has anything happened to her? Has anyone been hassling her?” He looks at Niylah. “Or you?”

Murphy huffs. “Who doesn’t hassle her. If it isn’t because she’s a Grounder, it’s because she’s my girlfriend. I’m not exactly popular.”

Niylah shakes her head. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“There have been some attacks—on both sides. I told Indra I’d try to figure out who’s behind them, so if anything happens, let me know.”

“Just call him Sherlock Blake,” Murphy says, laughing dryly.

Bellamy shoots him a warning look. “Didn’t you have someplace to be?”

Murphy puts his hands up as he walks away. “I’m going. No need to get the cuffs.”

Bellamy’s retort dies on his tongue as the lights go out again. Heaven squawks along with half the mess hall. Without exterior windows, it’s pitch black until someone lights a candle across the room. Bellamy lets his head fall against the table. “This day just gets better and better,” he mumbles. Clarke doesn’t offer a comforting hand.

For some reason, that hurts more than he thinks it should.

chapter 35 | chapters | chapter 37

#fanfic #the 100 fanfic #heaven can't wait

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juicifeur · 7 years

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Down By The River (Castiel x Reader)

Another submission for @riversong-sam‘s birthday challenge!

My prompt was Last Goodbye

Warnings: character death, depressed Cass

Word Count: 1.7k A/N:

Sorry I suck at keeping active

I’m using the spelling ‘CASS’. I’m warning you because people get triggered for some reason and then they get mad at me

Also, if your URL is crossed off in my tags, it means Tumblr is not allowing me to tag you under that URL anymore. Message me if you still want to be on tags but you want to change your URL

His hand lay under your head, supporting it so it wouldn’t touch the sullied ground. The unclean ground where your body lay nearly motionless. He cradled your torso in his lap and kept you close, warm, as comfortable as he could make you. His beige trenchcoat lay in half in the mud that was close to freezing over for the night in attempt to conserve some of your body heat

“Guess we won’t be going on that second date huh?” You smiled weakly up at him, finding his other hand with your own, resting on your abdomen. He shook his head.

“No, I’m afraid not.” He breathed out shakily and tried to smile back.

As per usual, a hunt had gone wrong, but this time it ended with your blood slowly leaking into the dirt. It was hard for Cass to grip what was happening; you’d known him so long, and just recently you were beginning to have feelings for the angel, as weird as that was.

“Put your coat back on Cass.” You mumbled, trying to focus on his eyes, his lips, anything that could keep you in this world a little longer.

“I do not get cold, Y/N. I’ll be fine.” His thumb brushed against your cheek gently.

The colour of your face was slowly draining, like your blood, and your lips were turning cold along with your fingers. Cass’ hand ran through your hair gently and you breathed out, calm.

“Please just let me heal you.” He begged. Angels didn’t really cry, but if they did, you’d guess that Castiel was about as close as they could get. His hands were leaving yours warmer and his voice broke when he managed to speak. The blue in his eyes seemed vibrant when he was most upset. You shook your head slowly.

“You’ve saved me...too many times, Castiel.”

“Then don’t leave me just yet, Y/N, please.” He pressed his cool lips to your forehead and you smiled softly. Both Sam and Dean returned, stopping in their tracks as they saw Castiel kneeling. They’d gone after the demon that had provided you with a nice lethal stab wound. Lucky enough for you, you were on the hellspawn’s list just because you affiliated with the Winchesters.

They decided not to get any closer. Castiel’s shoulders were shuddering above you and your breath was getting shallow.

“I think it’s time for me to go.” All you could get out was a whisper.

“I don’t want to watch the love between us die...” Cass muttered, a small teardrop fell from his eye and he breathed softly, the light fog swirling and then disappearing. You were silent. It was forbidden for humans and angels to be together, but Castiel’s current track record showed that he wasn’t exactly keen on following the rules lately.

“Y/N, please don’t leave me... Wake up.” Cass shook your shoulders gently and his heart pounded softly. He was struck with the fear that he would never again see your smile. Behind the tragic scene, Dean bit his lip and glanced at his brother knowingly, whose head was down in mourning. Losing people was in their job description, but they never thought they would lose you too.

Castiel knelt on the ground with your body early into the cold morning, just stroking your stiff, soft skin. Sam and Dean couldn’t bear it any longer, especially since they couldn’t feel their toes.

“Cass, buddy. Y/N’s gone... we gotta go.” He didn’t want to pry him away from you; he knew as well as his brother that in the time you’d known each other, Cass felt a certain way about you that was unheard of in angel disposition.

Rigid, Castiel stood up, holding your limp body bridal style in his arms. His eyes were cold and fixed upon the ground.

“Cass, you know anything else about- Hey, Cass,” Dean repeated as he looked up from the lore book that lay on the kitchen table.

Castiel was standing near one of the bookshelves with an old shoebox in front of him, a shoebox he kept of your things.

“Cass?” Sam piped up, which earned them a look from the angel.

“You okay?” Dean asked. Castiel nodded slowly and glanced back into the box briefly before putting it back on the shelf. Whatever was in his hands, he folded and tucked into one of his coat pockets.

“Yes, I am okay. What is it you need help with?” He was quick to change the subject.

As Dean explained their newest case file, Castiel’s mind wandered.

It had already been a few months since your death and he still regretted the fact that he hadn’t tried to save you.

His eyes had lost their lustre and his voice had lost its sincerity. He no longer could feel the warmth of your touch or the feeling that sparked inside him whenever he would see your face.

He kept thinking about that godforsaken promise he’d made to you. The promise that you’d proposed all those months back that entailed the angel not to save you if it came down to it. Your rationale was that if you were supposed to die, you were supposed to die. You weren’t going to mess with Fate. It didn’t work out so well last time.

Cass disappeared from the room before the boys realized how tight he was clenching his fists.

Dean let out an exasperated sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“He’s gotta get over this damn wall.” He grumbled. His best friend had been disconnected ever since the accident, and they needed him to be at his best just in case they needed him.

“C’mon Dean, you can’t blame him, and we can’t just keep asking him to solve our problems,” Sam said softly, uncrossing his arms and walking around the table to his brother.

“I’m not asking him to solve our problems, I’m just asking him to get his head out of his ass and take one for the team. He’s gotta get over it at some point.”

“He lost Y/N, you can’t expect him to be...all there.” Brushing a few strands of hair out of his face, Sam sighed.

“We lost Y/N, too, Sam. You don’t see me crying about it.” Dean glared up at his brother but Sam knew better. Both of the boys were upset that you were dead, but they both processed it differently. Already, Dean had gone overkill on three big baddies. Sam knew he was taking it hard, but still not as hard as Cas was taking it.

Defeated, Sam spoke again.

“Even angels need time to grieve, Dean. Give him a break.”

“Hello, Y/N.” Cass’ gravely voice mumbled, his lips curling slightly at the ends. For some reason, he always hoped you would answer him.

The grey headstone looked back at him with the same blank face as always but he still smiled and sat down on the ground in front of it, fighting back his sadness. The old tree that twisted up behind the grave provided shade for the ground that was patched with unique rays sunlight that managed to stream through the leaves overhead. The sun would be setting soon. Cass’ trench coat flapped gently in the quiet wind and he breathed shallowly.

He made sure to bury your body in the most beautiful place he could find, so secluded and peaceful that only he could visit you there and no one could find you by accident. Having a hunter’s funeral for you, like the boys wanted, was out of the question. He could not let his last memory of you to be filled with fire. He only hoped where you were, you could be as at peace as the river was.

“The stars should be beautiful tonight.” He looked up through the break in the trees at the sky and left himself in silence, imagining you responding to his statement with a fact about constellations or the recent meteor shower. He looked back down at your grave and sighed.

“I thought of you again today, Y/N.” His fingers pressed to the ground where he clearly remembered laying your body, wrapped in sheets. The river bubbled by the gravesite and he watched the water find it’s way around the rocks. If only it was that easy for him to get around this rock.

“I never got to say goodbye to you, Y/N.” Cass’ voice broke. The clouds overhead floated by, ill-concerned about whatever was going on down on earth. If any of his brothers or sisters saw him this way, they would be convinced that Earth had corrupted him, somehow made him more human, which they thought of as a bad thing.

“You gave me more life than you’ll ever know.” A few tears slid down his cheeks and he pulled the folded item from his pocket. He couldn’t ever tell you how he felt. With trembling hands, he unfolded the photograph and stared at your smile. He’d taken a liking to Polaroid cameras just a few months before your death. And even though he wasn’t particularly good with technology, or photogenic for that matter, he found a way to get a picture of the two of you together. It always made him smile.

He quickly wiped his eyes and started digging a small hole in the dirt in front of the grave, where a few wildflowers had begun to grow.

“I want you to have this. So you can remember us.” He folded the photograph again, into a small square and he set it into the ground, burying it gently. His tears, by now, had started to flow again, and he imagined them being fuel for more flowers.

Slowly, he stood up again and glanced at his surroundings before turning back to your headstone, where he would make sure it would never snow or be damaged. He intended to visit you often to tell you everything that was happening without you, as much as it broke his heart.

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

With one more look, Castiel pressed a kiss to his fingers and set them on the top of your headstone.

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