#i've gone to that dark place before and it almost killed me. i had to work so hard to discover hope to have that realization | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kamaluhkhan · 5 days

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COMPLICATED

LUST — part iv of we'll write sins like tragedies

pairing: luke castellan x nemesis! reader (afab) word count: 8.9k summary: the lives of demigods are never simple. why would your relationship with luke be any different? or: four moments of tension + one moment of release. featuring a trip to montauk with percy, grover, and annabeth warnings: a decent amount of reader backstory (mention of dad having cancer); multiple POVs (percy, grover, annabeth, luke, reader - obv nothing suggestive/smutty until luke and reader POV); luke + reader get into arguments and are v stressed so their relationship is a bit strained; reader has tattoos; reader is on birth control; rough smut (protected + unprotected p in v, oral f+m receiving, biting, scratching, slight choking, slight breeding kink, etc...); also slight dark + possessive luke! (18 + MDNI); major angst — we all know how this story ends ;( author's note: this was meant to be a blurb but...here we are! this is basically another chapter of my spill ur guts series lol. i've been gone for much longer than i planned to, but hope u enjoy possibly the angstiest, smuttiest thing i've written so far ♡

♪ "complicated" by avril lavigne

in the span of a few minutes, percy went from pure joy — being greeted with cheers from all the campers was great, sure, but truthfully the hug from annabeth alone sent him to elysium — to feeling like his heart dropped all the way to tartarus.

which is definitely not a place percy ever wants to visit again. he was happy to be back at camp with his friends, knowing that his quest was completed, his mom was safe in new york, and a war between the gods was prevented.

it should be over….but there’s something in the back of percy’s mind that’s telling him it isn’t. seeing a certain someone in the crowd earlier didn’t do anything to ease that feeling.

"can someone explain to me why clarisse is still here?"

you raise an eyebrow at luke, and he shrugs in response. it seems neither of you had decided who should break the news, and neither of you seem particularly excited to do so, even after dragging percy, along with annabeth and grover, into the empty hermes cabin for some privacy.

after another beat of silence, you take the lead.

“look, kid, i know you and clarisse got off to a rocky start —”

“she tried to drown me, and then basically kill me during capture the flag,” percy points out. he hears an ocean roaring at the memory, but that could have also been from his duel with clarisse’s dad, the god of war, more recently.

a duel that percy had won, for the record. luke trained him well.

“and i’m not defending that,” you clarify. “i’m just saying that we’ve known clarisse for much longer. she’s not perfect, maybe a bit aggressive sometimes — trust me, she and i have had some major disagreements, too — but i can’t see her doing something like this.”

“why would anyone at camp want to steal the bolt? to join kronos’ army against the gods?” annabeth wonders. to herself or to the group, percy isn’t sure, but he has a feeling that the wheels in her mind are turning.

“revenge, maybe?” grover suggests.

almost instinctively, grover glances at you, and so does annabeth. percy wants to kick himself for doing the same.

with you being the daughter of nemesis, he imagines that it's not the first time you’d been blamed for something just because of who you are. it’s a feeling percy knows all too well. and, for better or for worse, like percy, it seems like you’re not one to accept these things without a fight.

you straighten your shoulders, ready to snap back, but before you can, luke declares:

“it’s not her.”

he then knocks the toe of his shoe against your combat boot. you smile and return the gesture. the tension eases out of the room.

for a second, percy wonders if he’ll ever have someone like that: someone to defend like it’s second nature, to share that sort of secret language with, to smile at him like nothing else in the world matters.

according to annabeth, the two of you weren’t technically dating — but percy is pretty sure that aphrodite is swooning over you.

“see, grove? if camp half-blood’s golden boy can vouch for me, then i’m in the clear.” your tone is playful enough — no hard feelings — but the tips of grover’s ears still turn red. “i didn’t steal the bolt. sure, the gods and titans can tear each other apart for all i care — "

annabeth stiffens at your bold statement, and grover starts to nervously chew on an empty diet coke can he had stashed in his pocket. luke watches you with the hint of a smile on his face, and percy —

well, percy can’t help but admire you even more.

"— but it's everything else that i have an issue with.”

“everything else?”

you look at percy like the answer is obvious.

“when have the gods ever fought their battles without us as collateral damage? doesn’t seem worth it to me, to betray my friends.”

that itch in the back of percy’s brain gets harder to ignore.

“the oracle warned me, betrayed by a friend.”

“prophecies don't always come true,” annabeth reminds him. “at least not in the way we expect them to.”

“annie is right,” luke adds, nodding at his sister. “mine didn't. the oracle said i would die a hero.”

you turn to luke then, your eyebrows furrowed.

“what? you never told me that.”

“it doesn’t matter,” luke insists. “my point is that i came back from my joke of a quest, alive and a definitely not a hero —”

“fuck what the oracle said.” you roll your eyes. “dead or alive, you are a hero, tiger.”

you move to place a hand on luke’s arm. to percy’s surprise, though, luke brushes you off.

“i’m not a hero. at least not the one my dad expects me to be.”

again, percy is taken aback by how luke snapped, at you of all people. you huff, and percy can tell that you’re a bit agitated now, too.

“okay, but that doesn’t mean —”

“my point is.” luke turns to percy, effectively blocking your presence for the time being. “you completed your quest, fought a god, and stalled kronos’ plan. you’ve been through it — all three of you have — but now you’re back. let’s just enjoy the rest of our summer, yeah? whatever happened out there, whatever the oracle said, it’s in the past.”

percy wants to believe luke, he really does. one glance in your direction, and it seems like you do, too.

deep down, though, percy isn’t entirely convinced. there’s that dread in the pit of his stomach, that voice in the back of his head. something in him, warning that this isn’t quite over. the worst has yet to come.

he wonders if — or maybe just hopes — you feel the same.

—

ii.

if you of all people can’t get luke’s attention, grover is pretty sure that the world is ending.

“luke,” you try again, foregoing your usual nickname for him. your arms are crossed and you tap your foot against the floor. it makes grover slightly anxious, feeling your frustration threaten to boil over.

“i’m busy,” he grunts, and flips over another page, scribbling something on the other side.

“grover wanted to talk to us about something.”

“i-it’s fine, we don’t have to —”

“no, it’s a good idea, grove,” you insist. you smile at grover then. he remembers that, despite the deadly glares you can deliver, like the one you were just giving luke, you have a gentle core. you just guard it behind sharp edges.

“tell him that i’ll talk to him later.”

“or, you could tell him yourself,” you huff. grover waves awkwardly, even though luke doesn’t realize what’s happening. “he’s right next to me.”

luke looks up briefly, and then back down at the pages in front of him just as quick. he looks tired, exhausted even.

“sorry, man. didn’t see you there. i gotta finish these reports.”

“no worries. i tend to be quiet on my hooves.”

in the moment of silence that follows, and with luke still not giving you the attention you’re asking for, you walk over to the desk where luke is working. what you see seems to make you even more annoyed than before.

“these reports are for september. why in the name of nemesis are you filling them out now?”

“i just want to be prepared.”

“prepared for what?”

luke hesitates. “just….the future.”

“oh!” you laugh, sharp and sarcastic. “i didn’t realize that the future required you to neglect your friends.”

“i’m trying to help my friends,” luke huffs. he taps his pen impatiently against the desk. “if you didn’t keep interrupting me —”

“oh my fucking gods — ”

grover watches the two of you argue. it had been easier to step in whenever something bubbled up between annabeth and percy, because they were just kids. but you and luke — you were adults.

when grover met luke for the first time, he was already taking on way too much responsibility for a kid — keeping thalia and annabeth alive, protecting them from monsters, taking care of them. in a lot of ways, those responsibilities didn’t go away: as a senior counselor and resident older brother, a hero for the older campers to admire and the younger kids to aspire to be. camp half-blood’s golden boy, as you liked to call him.

and, like you, luke is good at hiding. for him, its heavy burdens behind easy-going smiles.

lately, though, those smiles seem to be strained, his shoulders slowly bending under the weight of it all. the other day, grover asked you if everything was okay with luke. you had looked back at him sadly, shrugged, and said you didn’t know.

that’s when grover decided that everyone just needs a break — an escape. he had been sensing that things weren’t quite right with the others, too. percy seems a little on edge, and so does annabeth.

then, of course, there was you and luke. finding out that the two of you had actually started dating was huge news for someone like grover who had painstakingly watched the two of you dance around your feelings for years. so, it was more than a little weird that you’d barely been speaking this past week. the rare occasion you did was tense at best, and explosive at worst.

like now, when you pick up one of the reports luke was working on, and threaten to burn it. luke dares you to do so, even suggests, albeit sarcastically, that you use it as your next offering to the gods.

“oh, a handwritten document from luke castellan himself? they would love that,” you snort. “admit it: you’re doing all of mr. d’s work just to suck up to some gods who don’t even give a shit about any of this. you’re practically olympus’ lapdog.”

luke, blushing a furious shade of red, gets up and yanks the paper from your hand.

“at least my parent is important enough to actually have a seat on olympus and an actual cabin for his kids to stay in.”

you look like you could just about throw luke into a fire, and vice versa. grover had never seen the two of you like this, but it made sense: each of you knowing just where, and how, to hurt the other.

and, he thinks it’s about time to step in before the damage is irreversible. so, grover starts slowly clapping. the clapping gets faster, and he manages to get through the first few lines of the consensus song before you stop him.

“alright, alright,” you sigh. you push past luke, steal his chair, and put your feet up on the desk. luke scowls at you, but you put your hands up in surrender and jut your chin out towards grover. “just listen to what grover has to say and then we’ll let you get back to your precious reports.”

grover tells luke his idea. luke actually agrees, and grover can’t help but feel a little bit of a victory.

he’s a protector, after all. it’s his job to make sure you’re all alive and happy and thriving. and not burnt to a crisp over some petty argument.

—

iii.

annabeth had missed home when she was away on their quest, but being back and seeing everyone being taught to worship the gods without question, to believe that the only things that matter are power and glory….well, after everything that happened, after percy, annabeth can’t just go back to doing the same. at least not entirely.

all this to say, she was totally on board with grover’s idea: the five of you, renting a cabin in montauk to get away from camp for a bit.

unfortunately, the trip starts off less than ideally. you and luke bicker the entire way here — and not the playful jabs you usually throw at each other.

annabeth remembers the first time she saw you together. it was during breakfast, their first morning at camp half-blood. annabeth had spent the night trying not to cry over thalia, and already missing luke even though he was only a few cabins away. she was still a kid, surrounded by strangers, told that she was safe now, but didn’t quite believe it yet. one look to luke at the hermes table, and annabeth could tell he felt the same way, too — not quite settled in this new place that was supposed to be home, and with these people who were supposed to be family.

she watched as the hermes table went to burn offerings to the gods. when they sat down again, luke looked even more unsettled than before.

but then, you leaned in and whispered something in luke’s ear, and he actually laughed, just a bit, which was a nice change of pace. luke was always the one making annabeth and thalia laugh when they were running from monsters, always the one trying to keep everything together with a smile or a joke.

as she devoured her breakfast, annabeth couldn’t help but keep glancing at the two of you. she heard warnings from her half-siblings, about your mother being the goddess of revenge, and you living up to that name.

luke either didn't know, or didn't care about whatever reputation you had. sitting there, next to you, annabeth didn’t think she’d ever seen luke so, genuinely happy, so at ease.

all these years later, neither you nor luke seemed particularly happy. you’re obviously avoiding each other, and annabeth doesn’t understand why.

you and luke are a new puzzle that she can’t wait to solve.

annabeth had finished constructing the most elaborate sandcastle in history, just for percy to accidentally splash it when he was trying to surf a wave; so she decides that playtime is over. it’s time to figure out what exactly is going on between you and luke.

luke is in the cabin doing gods know what. you're on the deck painting your nails, so annabeth decides to start gathering information from you, first.

“hey." you finish painting your pinky a dark purple, and set the bottle down next to you. "having fun?”

annabeth nods once and sits next to you. she asks if you could paint her nails, and you pull out a bottle of silver polish you said you thought she might like.

as you work, careful with each stroke of polish, annabeth surveys the tattoos on your skin. you’re wearing a bikini top, so there are some that she’s seeing for the first time. there's one of a knife on your sternum, and annabeth distinctly remembers seeing a similar one peeking from underneath the collar of luke’s shirt. she wonders when you got it, if you had to travel to a tattoo parlour in the city, how many other adventures you'd gone on without having to consult the oracle beforehand.

maybe that’s a good place to start.

“have you ever thought about leaving camp? like, long term?"

"sometimes," you admit. "it would be nice to have some normal early-twenties experiences."

"would you go to school?"

you smile as you keep painting annabeth’s nails. “maybe. i might have seen legally blonde too many times, but i think about law school sometimes.”

“what about luke?”

your smile fades at the question. “i...i don’t know." your once precise nail-painting falters, and you mumble a curse when a drop of silver lands on annabeth's skin. you swipe it away before continuing. "luke's one of those people i can't really see away from camp half-blood for too long; pretty sure it would burn down without him. there's a reason he feels responsible for everyone there...in a way i respect, obviously, but, it's not the same for me. nobody needs me."

"luke needs you."

you sigh, and annabeth wonders if you even realize how you shake your head slightly. she thinks you're about to disagree with her, but instead you ask:

“what's this about, annie? are you thinking about your dad’s offer?”

and annabeth’s completely thrown off her line of inquiry.

“how did you —”

“perce told me that you’ve been talking about staying with him for the year,” you explain. you gesture at annabeth to give you her other hand, and she complies. the silver polish on the hand you just finished glitters in the sun.

“well, nothing’s confirmed.”

you look up at annabeth, one eyebrow raised. “it's okay, you know — if you just wanna….be a kid for a bit.”

annabeth is silent, prompting you to ask another question.

"what's holding you back?"

“well….at first, i thought it would be a definite no,” annabeth admits. “obviously, it didn’t work out last time. i don’t know if i want to risk it again — if i can trust him, you know? how do i know he actually cares — that he’ll be there for me when i need him?”

“you don’t.” you pause for a second. “but i’m gonna tell you a story that i think might help.”

you're done painting her nails, so you put everything away. you sit cross-legged next to annabeth, looking out at the ocean.

“my dad never wanted me to go to camp. he wanted to raise me in the city, just like he’d grown up. he’d take me to rock concerts all the time. i was so young, he’d make me wear earmuffs and carry me on his shoulders so that i could still see the band.” you smile softly at the memory. “and then….my dad got sick, he couldn’t take care of me, and monsters started to show up, so he brought me to camp for safe keeping."

"you've told me all this," annabeth remarks.

you start fiddling with your camp necklace. annabeth isn't used to seeing you so unsure, so nervous; it throws her off even more.

"what i haven't told you is that even when my dad got better, he….he didn’t give me a choice of where to stay.”

"oh," is all annabeth can say.

“yeah, oh," you scoff, but there’s not really any malice behind it. you seem…sad. defeated, almost. your fingers move to play with the hem of your shorts, which causes the fresh nail polish to smudge. you don’t seem too concerned about that at the moment, though. "i told everyone that i chose to stay. the truth is that i stayed because my dad didn't want me anymore. he said that the universe gave him a second chance, so he wanted to live his life without having to worry about monster attacks or taking care of his teenage daughter."

annabeth wonders if luke knows the truth about this; though, considering how difficult it seems for you to admit, she doubts it.

before, annabeth had a theory that you decided to stay at camp because of luke.

luke was away when you got the news that your dad was in remission. annabeth remembers how happy you were, how excited you were to be back in the city and living with your dad again. you started packing right away.

when luke came back from his failed quest, you had just gone into the city the day before, having promised to visit in the summer and stay in touch. someone – chris maybe, or beckendorf — must have called you, told you what happened, because you came back to camp right away, your bag still fully packed. you never left again.

"that sucks."

“yeah.” you let out a hollow, breathy laugh. “and, i was angry at first. of course i was. but now, i don’t know. i think that maybe my dad does care about me. like, he still sends me mixtapes with old punk rock songs he thinks i’d like. he actually calls me on my birthday, and we have a 3 minute conversation about nothing important."

"right…" annabeth furrows her brows. this conversation had definitely not gone as planned. "no offense, but what's —"

"i'm getting to the point," you tell her, bumping your shoulder against hers. "i realized that sometimes people can only love us in a way that works for them — and it sucks. it really, really sucks. but then sometimes…. sometimes people do actually try. and, i don’t know, it seems like maybe your dad is willing to try.”

“so you think i should take him up on his offer.”

the sun starts to set. you get up, brush sand off your legs.

“i think it's time for a swim. i also think that you’re smart enough to know what’s best for you, and who deserves a second chance. just know that whatever you decide — we’ll be there for you.”

you leave without another word, but with the return of your usual confident smile, off to the shore to take advantage of the last bits of daylight.

"she's right, annabeth." luke appears a few seconds later, takes the spot next to annabeth you had just occupied.

annabeth hums.

"how much of that did you hear?"

luke doesn't answer. he just stares at your form, disappearing in the distance and diving under the waves.

—

iv.

you clear your throat and luke turns around to see you freshly showered. you’re wearing a pair of shorts and one of the oversized band tees the two of you constantly exchange. you've lost track of whose is whose at this point.

luke resists the urge to shamelessly check out your legs, and turns his back towards you once again. that bikini top you were wearing earlier was bad enough. thankfully, the heat from the stove was enough to cover up his blushing cheeks at the sight of your exposed skin.

“i thought we were ordering pizza,” you say, moving to peer over his shoulder, chin hovering just above. luke had the sense that you were avoiding physical contact, and as much as it drives him crazy, he knows that he’s the one who’d dug his own grave. pushing you away and whatnot.

“didn’t know that you knew how to cook.”

“not much,” luke shrugs. he keeps stirring the vegetables — broccoli and carrots and baby corn. he’ll add the red peppers once the broccoli turns green so that they don’t become too soft. he’s pretty sure that’s how he remembers it going.

“i could have helped you.” you reach over and hand him the peppers right on time. you shift to lean your back against the counter next to the stove, arms crossed over your chest and eyes following luke.

luke throws in the chicken he cooked earlier, and then the sauce he had also mixed. he waits a few seconds, lets the sound of everything sizzling fill the space between you.

“it’s an easy recipe.” luke turns off the stove to punctuate his point.

and it had to be. something quick he’d make with his mom after she had one of her episodes, before waking up and realizing that she had a son to feed. the sounds, the colors, the smells — it all, overwhelmingly, reminds him of a childhood he once had. one that was never as simple as the food he just made.

none of the bitterness in his throat is caused by his mom, of course. just his father who calls himself a god, and left them both alone to fend for themselves.

you start getting out plates from the cupboards as you ask: “where are the kids?”

luke checks the pot on the stove to see if the rice is cooked. “told them to go rent something from the video store.”

“they went alone?”

“they’ve literally been to hell and back,” he replies and sits down at the table. “i think they can handle a blockbuster.”

“i don’t care if they get attacked by monsters,” you state, setting down the last plate in front of him. “i know they can handle themselves. they just better choose a good movie.”

luke doesn’t mean to snort, but he can’t help but remember all the arguments you’d gotten in with chris over your tastes in movies.

“don’t laugh, castellan. i’ve saved movie night on more than one occasion and i’ve never gotten so much as a thank you.” you roll your eyes, but luke notices the ghost of a smile.

it fades just as quickly as it appeared, and luke already misses the small moment of levity that’s passed.

“what’s been going on with you, tiger?”

you hold his gaze, and luke knows that you’re hoping for a real answer, for the truth he can’t give you.

“nothing,” he answers instinctively.

“don’t give me that,” you sigh and turn away from him, returning to your position against the counter.

“i said it’s nothing,” luke insists, a bit more assertively. “why can’t you just believe me?”

“because you’ve been distant, moody.” your tone is sharper now, too. “you’ve been avoiding me. you’ve barely been eating. the side of your bunk has been empty, which means you haven’t been sleeping, either. gods, i can’t even remember the last time you kissed me —”

“you’re really mad at me because we haven’t fucked?”

it’s a low blow, and he delivers it as if he hadn’t missed seeing you underneath him. or on top, or beside. luke isn’t picky.

“you’re impossible!” you groan, and cover your face with your hands. you take a deep breath before returning to glare at luke. “do….do you not want to be together, anymore? because if that’s what’s happening, i’ll survive. we can go back to being friends.” you clench your jaw to make up for the tremble behind your question. always a tough face, even in the face of potential heartbreak.

of course, luke knows you’ll be fine without him. he’s the one who might have difficulty surviving when you part ways.

“that’s not —” luke sighs and runs a hand through his hair, avoiding your gaze. “that’s not it.”

“then what is it?”

“noth—”

“i will send you to elysium if you tell me it’s nothing one more time, because i know it’s not!” you’re shouting now. “i might not know what it is, but i know you well enough to tell that something is bothering you. so i’m asking you, one more time, what is going on?”

the thing is, luke can’t tell you — about what he’s done, about who he’s aligned himself with. he can’t lie to you, either, at least not to save his life.

so, he’s basically stuck in whatever the greek mythology version of limbo is.

for now, he’s saved by percy, annabeth, and grover, who walk in with a stack of DVDs and armfuls of movie snacks.

dinner is fine, especially with the kids providing a good enough buffer. luke even catches you smiling and laughing along with them a few times. you approve of their choice in movies, starting with mulan. it’s one of luke’s favorites, too, but he can’t help but let his attention wander.

the two of you have known each other for a long time. luke has felt your anger. he’s felt your frustration. you’ve been on opposing sides of explosive arguments, of brutal sparring matches.

but, despite everything, luke’s never been hated by you. it’s unavoidable, given what he’s done and the path he’s on; it's just not something he's particularly eager to feel.

working for kronos….luke won't pretend he regrets it. something had to be done, to take back the poisonous world the gods created.

he did it for you, even if you won't understand.

he'd do anything for you.

so, for now, he’s willing to endure the daggers you stare at him from the other side of the couch.

—

in another life, you might have taken advantage of the queen bed and private room. both hard to come by at camp half-blood, if you’re not willing to risk zeus’ wrath for the latter.

gods, it feels like forever since you and luke snuck into cabin one because couldn’t keep your hands off each other, curses and lighting strikes be damned.

you almost wish lightning would strike — at least then the bed would be warm.

“i can feel you being mad at me,” luke whispers.

“sorry, thought you’d already be gone by now,” you respond, sarcasm dripping through your words. “off to see whoever else you’d rather sleep with.”

“so, you are mad because we haven’t fucked in a while.”

a stupid slip of the tongue. you can practically hear the smirk in his voice, and your entire body feels on fire for giving him any leverage on you. that was definitely not the warmth you were hoping for.

“whatever,” you mumble, shuffling closer to the edge of the bed, your back still towards luke.

for the record, you’re mad because of whatever distance luke was forcing between you, or whatever wall he was putting up, for a reason you don’t understand. you’d always known luke well, but lately you haven’t been able to read him.

and, sure. maybe you are…. frustrated. the two of you hadn’t been intimate in a while, yes, and your fingers are nothing compared to luke’s, but more than that: you just miss actually feeling him close to you. in any sense.

you’re not sure how much time passes, and there’s nothing but silence. then, you hear his voice again, gentler than before, no cocky attitude laced through.

“you never told me about your dad.”

ugh. of course, luke had overheard your conversation with annabeth earlier. damn those sly hermes’ genes.

you stay silent to give off the illusion that you’d fallen asleep, but luke doesn't fall for it.

“we’ve shared a bunk for years, karma. i can tell when you’re not sleeping.”

you pause for a few more seconds, but you know that luke is persistent.

“it didn’t matter,” is all you offer before he asks again.

“it did,” luke insists. “why didn’t you tell me?”

“it’s not like we tell each other everything,” you scoff. “like, why didn’t you tell me about that prophecy? and why won’t you tell me whatever’s going on with you now?”

“that’s….that’s different.”

“not really. i bet that it’s all for the same reason.”

“which is?”

you debate telling luke the truth.

it was no surprise that you had a certain reputation around camp: cunning, hot-tempered, brash. you were fine being the angry girl whose mother wasn’t enough of a god to warrant a cabin, but enough of a threat to be wary of. you didn’t want to be the one who was also dropped by her father, unwanted and too much of a burden. so, you swallowed the reality of the situation; pretended that nothing broke your heart, and that nothing ever would.

“i didn’t want you to look at me differently,” you admit.

another pause, this time from the other side of the bed.

“if it makes you feel better, i was glad that you stayed.”

you can’t help it; you let out a sardonic laugh.

“that’s not much of a comfort, since you haven’t seemed very thrilled with me lately.”

“that’s not….” luke falters. “i just mean that i don't know who i’d be if you left.”

in spite of the situation, the ongoing tension between you, you find yourself smiling.

“always so dramatic,” you tease.

deep down, you know you’re not much better.

luke was part of the reason you might have stayed at camp, anyways. he was the reason why you didn’t fight harder to get back to your old life, and you always did like a good fight.

it was scary though, that one person had so much power over you and didn’t even know it. you tried to convince yourself that you stayed because luke had needed you, after his quest and everything. but, once you’d known how it felt to have luke in your life, you didn’t want to go back to a time you didn’t.

truthfully, it still scares you.

“i don’t like fighting with you,” you admit softly, swallowing a lump in your throat. “especially when i don’t even know why we’re fighting in the first place.”

you wonder if you’d just thought that instead of saying it out loud because luke doesn’t respond, until you hear the sheets behind you shuffle, and feel luke position himself behind you.

"i'm sorry that we're fighting. it's my fault."

he settles a tentative hand on your exposed hip, where your shirt had ridden up. luke starts to trace circles onto your skin with his thumb, the way he sometimes does when he's nervous or having a bad dream.

"i’ve just been so….in my head. i don't want you to worry about what's going on with me, okay?

"luke —"

"i have to sort it out on my own.”

"you don’t, though,” you insist. “if you just tell me what’s going on, instead of pushing me away.”

another pause. you can feel him breathing down your neck, and in turn you inhale the spicy citrus of his body wash. it’s all so excruciatingly familiar as you wait for him to say something, anything.

eventually, luke sighs, deeply, and confesses:

"it's just….we've known each other for so long, but this — us? so much of it is new. i don't want to fuck it up."

"well, congratulations," you quip. "you're one step closer to getting there."

you meant it as a joke, something to lighten the mood, but you feel luke stiffen at your words, his grip on your hip becoming almost painfully tight as if he's worried you'll slip away.

"i'm kidding, tiger." you weave your fingers through his to loosen his hold on you, and reassure him even more that you're not going anywhere, any time soon. "for better or for worse: you’re mine, and i'm yours. no matter how much either of us might fuck it up."

luke shuffles closer, and you melt into him even more.

"do you really mean that?"

his voice is soft, surprisingly timid. you crane your neck back to look at him; luke stares at you, his gaze heavy enough to take your breath away.

“of course.”

you're so close, and you hadn't been in so long. luke's leg is somehow lodged in between your thighs, and you bite back a whimper as he brushes against you. you feel him behind you, already half-hard, and you rub your ass against him slightly, causing a groan to vibrate through his body.

neither of you have to do much to crash your lips together.

you can sense how luke’s been unraveling, from the kiss alone. his lips are chapped, rough against yours and already bleeding from the pressure; his stubble scrapes against your cheek, and you’re dizzy with anticipation, imagining how it will leave a stinging sensation on other areas of your skin when luke has his way with you later.

for now, you focus on your mouth on his: teeth clacking together, your tongue laving over the cut on luke’s bottom lip and tasting copper. luke brings a hand up to your jaw, pushing you into his mouth even more.

it’s like the first time you kissed. all consuming. messy. urgent — like you've already run out of time.

eventually, you have to pull yourself away from his grasp, your neck straining at the uncomfortable angle. luke takes the opportunity to suck bruises onto your neck while he presses his thigh harder against your cunt. he slips his other hand further underneath your shirt, cupping your breast and pinching your nipple between his fingers. instinctively, you start rutting against him.

“f-fuck,” you groan, relishing in the muscles of his naked thigh underneath you, defined and strong.

luke chuckles, and you feel his breath warm against your skin.

“you missed me that much, hm?” he taunts, encouraging you to go faster, harder. “you’re gonna cum before i even have a chance to undress you. doesn’t seem fair to me.”

“who —” your breath catches when luke’s hand settles around your throat, pulling you impossibly closer to him. you feel the outline of his abs against your lower back, and his length, hard and waiting. it’s difficult to finish your thought, but you try your best. “who says i only have to cum once?”

“that sounds like a challenge,” luke decides. “what’s our record — three? think we can beat that tonight?”

you laugh, already out of breath. “i think we can do it.”

“good girl.”

your thighs clench at the nickname, and it's one down, a few more to go.

you maneuver luke so that he lays flat on the bed, your legs on either side of his hips. your hands fumble with the edge of his shirt, and he lets you remove it without any more hassle.

it's a little ironic, really, how much you and luke hate the gods — because looking at him underneath you, you're sure that something divine must have created him, and you have to thank them for it. sharp jaw, deep scar, flushed cheeks; curls slightly askew, and skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat; that cocky smile — you'd worship luke castellan over any of the olympians.

secretly, of course, you pretty much already do.

"like what you see?" luke smirks up at you, hands firmly on your ass.

you roll your eyes to save face. "come on, tiger, like you're not seconds away from tearing through your boxers."

luke clicks his tongue, locks his calf around yours to switch your positions. you grunt as your back hits the mattress, but you very much appreciate the force and weight of luke above you. he practically rips off your shirt, then starts to nip and suck down your body. he kisses the fabric still covering your cunt, and you can feel his chuckle vibrate through your body when he encounters the wetness there.

"i'm not the one who already ruined their underwear," luke teases as he finishes undressing you. he pauses at the sight of you, bottom half completely exposed. you're about to tell him to hurry the fuck up, but then luke spits onto your already soaked cunt and says:

“i need to clean you up, baby.” he gives you another cheeky grin, teeth glowing like the cheshire cat, before diving in.

luke is skilled at everything he does, so of course he's quick to unravel you once more, this time with a persistent combination of tongue and teeth, lapping at your cunt like it's his last meal.

as soon as you're done riding out your high, you yank luke by the leather cord around his neck to collide your lips with his again.

you reach down to return the favor, snake your hand underneath the fabric of his underwear, and you're deeply satisfied to find him already sticky with his release.

“you already finished,” you tease, stroking his v-line. "and ruined your underwear without me even touching you."

in the dim light of the moon, you can barely make out luke blushing. he hides his face in the junction between your neck and shoulder.

“guess we’re both desperate, huh.” luke’s teeth graze your skin, his curls tickling your neck. “i need to be inside you, now, so how about you get on your hands and knees for me? i’ll get the condom.”

sometimes, luke tries to be gentle — but not this time.

this time, he fucks you, hard and fast and deep.

you love it, even if you might not be able to walk properly tomorrow.

with so much power behind each thrust, and the overwhelming pleasure, your arms threaten to give out, but luke catches you before you fall. he wraps a hand around your neck, bringing you flush against his chest as he continues to plunge his length into you.

"listen to me," luke growls. he snakes a hand down to rub harsh circles on your clit. "the one thing the gods did right is make this perfect, tight little pussy of yours. you were fucking made for me, weren't you?"

all you can do is whimper, closing your eyes at his filthy, sinful words.

you aren't used to luke being so possessive, and certainly not in these past few weeks. it's making your head spin in the best way. you can feel your orgasm build in the pit of your abdomen.

"were you made for me?" luke asks again. he squeezes your neck slightly, and you gasp at the pressure. "answer me, or i'll stop."

you don’t think it’s likely he’ll stop; you’re sure he’s just as lost in the sound of your cunt squelching and the feeling of you sucking him in. but, he does slow down, only a little bit, and it's enough for you to start whining.

"y-yes, luke."

"are you mine?"

you don't answer fast enough. luke stills his hips completely and you almost burst into tears.

you moan, trying to move against him in vain. luke keeps a firm grip on you, making it hard to cause any sort of friction between your bodies.

"i'm yours," you promise.

luke plants a firm kiss behind your ear. “that’s my girl,” he whispers darkly.

satisfied, luke resumes his pace. he moves the hand around your neck to your chin, angling you accordingly so he can crash his lips onto yours.

it doesn't take long to feel the tension in your abdomen snap, wetness gushing out of you. exhausted, you collapse onto the mattress. luke slips out of you.

the next few seconds consist of you trying to bring yourself back down to reality after such a high.

luke turns you around just to face him as he hovers over you. he lodges his hand behind your ear and taps your cheek to get your attention. your eyes flutter open.

“did you just —”

the dampness between your legs, and on the sheets underneath you, is enough evidence: you just squirted.

"i….” you gulp, feeling yourself flush. “i’ve never done that before."

luke stares at your glistening cunt. you wonder if you should be embarrassed, but then he locks eyes with you. you've never seen them so dark, pupils almost fully blown, just a sliver of brown showing through.

"you’re so fucking hot."

your heart flutters.

“you’re not too bad yourself, tiger, or i wouldn’t be in this mess.” you wink at him, still trying to catch your breath. your eyes wander lower. you note luke in the current state he’s in; you realize that the scales are nowhere near balanced. “that’s three for me, and only one for you. let me taste you.”

he doesn't need to be told twice. you get on your knees once more, this time facing him as he kneels in front of you. luke rips off the condom, something to deal with later, and you take him in your mouth, cheeks hollowed and tears brimming your eyes feeling him fuck your throat. when he finishes, you swallow him whole, savoring every drop. he pulls you up for a kiss; you can still taste yourself on him, and it mixes with his new release, a combination that is more than a little intoxicating.

“fuck,” luke mumbles as he pulls away. he swipes his thumb over the corner of your mouth where some of his cum dribbled out. “i know that was intense, but would you be up for another round? "

"yeah," you reply without a second thought, reaching up to thread your fingers through his curls to ground yourself.

maybe you should thank artemis for the full moon tonight, giving you just the right amount of silver light to illuminate the sculpted curves and edges of luke's body. his skin is also littered with bruises and bites of your design, chaotic and beautiful. luke looks like a mess, just as you're sure you do.

you want more. you need more.

"we gotta go for four, remember? but...maybe we, uh…"

"....slow it down this time?" luke finishes your thought.

you nod, grateful that you and luke are on the same page. he scrambles off the bed to get another condom.

"shit. i don't have another one.”

"check my bag, too," you tell him. luke complies, but comes up short once more.

you’re sitting up against the headboard now, and luke returns to kneel in front of you.

"i can use my fingers,” luke offers. “or eat you out again —"

“or we could just do without a condom this time?” you suggest. luke raises an eyebrow at you, so you think through the possibilities out loud. "we both got tested before our first time together and haven’t been with anyone since.” you find yourself pausing for confirmation on that, and luke nods once. “i’m on birth control. obviously there’s still a risk that something happens, but maybe just this one time? you can just pull out whenever you’re ready….if you're okay with that."

luke waits, almost like he thinks you might change your mind, before finally answering:

“yeah, i’m okay with it if you are. i’ve always wanted to fuck you raw. i just didn’t think you’d be into it — and didn’t want you to feel pressured.”

you have to kiss him then. because how is it that the boy who just gave you three jaw clenching, toe curling, heart pounding orgasms be so sweet and considerate?

before you know it, you’re flat on your back, sheets slightly scratchy with stray sand. you don't care much because luke hovers above you; he presses his forehead to yours, curls falling in front of his face.

"just so you know," luke starts, just as you feel him enter you once more. "i must have been made for you, too. i'm just as much yours as you are mine."

you smirk, bite your lip to keep from moaning so that you can keep up the arrogance, just a bit longer.

"always so dramatic," you mock, as if your cunt isn’t squeezing around him at his sweet nothings.

luke grins at you sheepishly, his cheeks flushed.

"guess that means the gods did two things right," you joke, exhaling when you feel luke brush against that gummy spot deep within you. "maybe we've taken them for granted. maybe we should - " he hits that spot again, and your breath hitches. you dig your nails into his shoulders as he rocks back and forth. “maybe we should thank them.”

luke clicks his tongue, grips your hip firmly. "not a chance, sweetheart. the gods’ll get what they deserve."

you don’t care enough to ask luke what he means. you care more about him going faster. you’re about to tell him to do so, and to throw your legs over his shoulders, but he does it himself before you get the chance. you feel him slipping deeper within you, the force and passion behind each movement, his body molding to every curve and crevice of yours.

made for each other.

you’re so sensitive that your orgasm approaches quickly. as he helps you ride it out, his thrusts get sloppier, and you know he’s almost reached his peak, too.

“fuck,” he grunts. “i’m close.” luke starts to pull out, but then you lock your ankles behind his neck.

“don’t,” you command.

“a-are you sure?” he looks at you, wide-eyed.

“i just want to feel you this once.”

he nods and brings you in for one more bruising kiss. he finishes inside you, warm and wet.

luke leaves once he catches his breath, and comes back with a damp towel to clean you up. he knows your body, recognizes how sensitive you are, and presses kisses on the inside of your thighs, where the same lips had made bruises before.

even completely fucked out, your mind starts to unpack everything that’s wrong in your life. like how luke has always been a little too good at pretending, with everyone else at least, and something serious must be going on if he's trying to fool you, too.

this luke with you now, the one who gently wipes his cum from between your legs after fucking you so relentlessly, is your luke. it feels like your luke is slipping right through your fingers, and you’re wracking your brain trying to figure out how this can stop before losing him completely.

wait….did luke say something about getting revenge on the gods? your mind is still a bit cloudy, but you could’ve sworn —

“are you okay?”

his question puts pause on your spiraling. he’s done cleaning you up, throws the towel on the floor and settles back on the bed, next to you. you’re close enough for the softest whisper, your limbs intertwined beneath tangled sheets.

you watch luke carefully as he waits for an answer and surveys your body, tracing his fingers over the marks he'd left underneath your jaw, across your shoulders, over your collarbones and down your stomach.

"i didn't hurt you, did i?"

“i’m okay,” you assure him. luke’s hand stops to gently rest on your cheek. your other worries are pushed to the side for the time being: for now, it's just you and luke. “do you think we could pick up a plan b pill tomorrow though, just in case? i love you, but i’m not ready to have your babies.”

luke widens his eyes like a minotaur in headlights. he drops his hand.

“you’ve never said that before.”

“that i want to have your babies?” you jest, slightly amused at how panicked luke seems.

luke blushes and clears his throat. “well, that too. i meant the whole ‘i love you’ thing, though.”

your amusement evaporates. you swear your heart stops beating momentarily.

“oh, shit.…”

you’re not quite sure what to say; you’ve felt this way for a while, truthfully.

of course you love luke. you can't remember exactly when you realized it, but you just….know.

because if what you felt for luke wasn’t love, then you were foolish to have secretly bought into what silena beauregard had been on about for years, and aphrodite herself might just be out of a job.

“i know we’re kind of in a weird place, but, yeah, i mean it. you don’t have to say it back —”

luke leans forward to kiss you. gentler this time, but just as firm. “i love you."

"you do?" your heart resumes its beating.

"of course i do. i have ever since my first morning at camp.”

“yeah right,” you chuckle in disbelief, feeling your cheeks heat up. “it’s not a competition, you know, over who loved who first.”

“karma, i’m serious,” he insists. “someone taught me to burn offerings, and with everything that happened with thalia, i obviously wasn't in the worshiping mood, but then you leaned over and whispered —"

"they like the smell of begging."

luke grins at you, and you reach up to brush your thumb against the dimple in his cheek.

"exactly. somehow, that was what i needed to hear. it was nice to know that i wasn't the only one who didn’t want to just accept things the way they were….” he loses his train of thought. luke grabs your hand in his. “i wish i had told you earlier. after all this, i don’t want to lose you.”

“you won’t —”

“whatever happens,” luke continues, somewhat ominously. “i love you, y/n.”

you hadn't heard luke use your real name in a while. you fall asleep, heart full with the memory of him weaving it together with those three magic words.

the next morning, you wake up — you actually sleep in, for the first time in years — and decide that if you could stay here forever, you would.

the morning sun stings your eyes through the sheer curtains. the sticky heat of summer sits heavy in the room, and stray grains of sand tickle your skin underneath the sheets. waves wash gently on the shore outside, and an ocean breeze mixes with the smell of burnt cinnamon. you can hear annabeth, grover, and percy crashing dishes and bickering and causing chaos in the kitchen as, you imagine, they scramble to surprise you with breakfast.

luke is next to you, on his stomach. his curls are a mess, covering most of his face.

evidence from last night: scratches from your nails prominent on his back, his neck decorated with purple bruises in the shape of your lips. you shift slightly and feel a dull ache between your legs, so you'd call it even.

outside, something clatters on the floor, and you hear percy swear.

luke's eyes flutter open, ever so slightly, and he starts to move. "we should get up before they burn down the place."

you press your hand to luke's shoulder blade, barely, but in his half-asleep state, it's enough to keep him in bed. luke moves to his side, facing you. you bring your hand up to brush curls away from luke's eyes, even if they're still closed.

"they've literally been to hell and back," you recall his sarcastic words from last night. "i think they can handle pancakes."

the corners of luke's mouth curl upwards.

"you're such a smart ass," he mumbles.

you lean forward, plant a kiss underneath luke's chin. his stubble scratches against your lips.

"don't pretend you don't love it, tiger."

luke breathes steadily. you think he might've fallen asleep once more until he presses his lips to your forehead, pulls you towards him, and quips:

"i love you."

your heart quickens as you echo his words. something churns in your stomach, too.

because this peace isn't something that feels permanent.

you're the children of gods, and there's always a catch. some inevitable plot twist where lovers end up separated, where heroes end up dead or cursed.

it's nauseating — dangerous, even — that you want a happy ending, a desire buried in you deeply like a knife to the gut. it's cruel that the fates keep twisting, taunting you with what can never be.

no monsters; no gods or titans; no prophecies.

just this.

#the way this became a whole chapter....i've got wayyy too much to say i guess #i really wanted to incorporate the trio into this series a bit more and how others see luke + karma's relationship #also i forget who said it but smut as a character study....yeah <3 #luke castellan fic #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan angst #luke castellan smut #luke castellan x nemesis!reader #luke castellan x you #pjo fanfic #pjo #luke castellan fanfic #saf writes

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nerdofspades · 1 year

Text

Bruce looked at the pop-up on the Batcomputer's screen.

"Explain," he growled, glancing down at Tim.

"Not much to explain," Tim answered, pulling up lines of code. "It showed up ten seconds ago."

"I'm starting a full diagnostic," Barbara said, voice filtering through the speakers. "So far, I'm not seeing anything."

"And yet..." Time trailed off glancing at the window again. It had a video queued up to play and the words "IMPORTANT: PLEASE WATCH. DO NOT DELETE" in large text at the top.

"There's a new folder labeled 'a gift for Batman,'" Tim said. "Not something any of us made."

"Clearly."

"I'm still not finding any viruses, corrupted files, or spyware," Oracle said. "The new folder was programmed to stay in a hidden partition for a few days after it was placed. Then, obviously, the pop-up to catch our attention."

"Folder also has a text file named 'security notes,'" Tim said. "Maybe our new hacker is friendly?"

"It's starting to look like it," Oracle agreed. "The video is clean. It should be safe to watch."

Bruce sighed. "Then let's see what they've got for us."

The video opened with a dark room. The background hidden in shadows, while the foreground was well lit, letting them clearly see the tired teen in the center of the frame as he took a heavy swig from his mug before putting it down.

"Pulling up facial recognition."

He ran a hand through his messy black hair and then down his face, pinching his nose and hiding the bags under his blues eyes for a moment before he dropped his hand and finally looked at the camera.

"I really don't want to do this," he said, "but you need it." He glanced longingly off screen in the direction of the mug he'd put down.

"First of all, I think I should apologize for hacking you. Or asking my friend to, technically. I just. You need to know about this and I didn't know of another way to get it to you that would be secure.

"I did at least make him promise to make a record of how he got in so you can patch that.

"That out of the way... to business? I'm Danny Fenton, for the last year or so I have also been the hero Phantom in Amity Park. My parents are Jack and Maddie Fenton. They are ectobiologists and ghost hunters. While extremely biased and not actually that good at catching ghosts, their tech is easily the best in the business."

"That's a positive match."

"Running a search on Phantom."

"I- fucking shit." Danny put his head in his hands again, running them back through his hair before leaning back, almost collapsing into the chair.

"This kid has... gotten into some shit."

"Everyone knows you're the League's strategist, Batman. And. I'm strong enough. I can handle my problems, that's not what I'm worried about.

"It's been about a year and I've already been mind controlled once." Danny laughed. A dry, broken, almost desperate laugh. "And that was just some lowlife that wanted to rob jewelry stores. I'm still not worried about. It's not why I'm sending you this. The magic relic he used is broken and gone now."

"Well that explains one of his problems."

"The others?"

"An attempted kidnapping and fairly standard property damage. I want to see some footage of those fights before passing judgement."

"Even more standard given he doesn't seem to have a mentor. Batman, he was fourteen."

"No. I. I've seen a version of the future. One where I go mad. Where I snap. And the Justice League can't stop me.

"I don't know if I- he kills everyone. I don't know who, if anyone, makes it out. But it's not anyone that could really do much. I... I saw ten years after he- I snapped. Earth was little more than rubble and ash. Only one city was left holding out and it was about to fall- was falling when I got there.

"I've managed to change the time line. What broke him didn't happen here. But. I can't guarantee nothing ever could.

"So. Yeah. Next best thing is making sure you're prepared. All my powers. All my weaknesses. Everything I know of that could possibly hurt me. Schematics and blue prints for anything you could need to fight me, track me, keep me out, keep me contained. All nice and giftwrapped for your convenience.

"Uh... that's everything. Why is it always so awkward to end a video? Hopefully we never see each other? I guess? Pretty sure us actually meeting is gonna be a bad sign.

"You know what. I'm gonna turn this thing off now before I say something stupid."

"Batman, who's 'Phantom'?" Superman asked, glancing up from the Watchtower computer he was working at. "Aren't we supposed to vote on new members?"

Batman grunted. "He's not a member, just someone who understands the need for contingencies."

"You know what, I'm not gonna even ask."

"Probably for the best."

#dp x dc #bruce wayne #batman #danny phantom #dc #batman's contingincies #tim drake #barbara gordon

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ivystoryweaver · 10 months

Text

With You part 12

<-prev next-> || Fic Masterlist || My Masterlist

Summary: You and your husband adjust to life with Jake in the mix and Marc gone quiet.

Pairings: Steven Grant x gn!reader, Jake Lockley x gn!reader, Marc Spector x gn!reader. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 3k

Content: fluff, some angst, spicy times (more under the cut)

Warnings: cursing, references to Marc's trama/past, food prep and talk about food (I know this can be triggering for some) sex implied, foreplay, handjob, but language is not overly explicit and is gn. Probably inaccurate DID, based on the show.

Steven arrived home from work, having narrowly escaped a London downpour. Setting his bag down right inside the door, he shed his damp jacket and kicked off his shoes, thinking Marc might pipe up and scold him at any moment.

Marc was the neat one. Like military neat. Like, don't leave a mess or mom will make you regret it, neat. Like erase your existence from your alter...from the authorities...from the world, neat.

Steven was the messy one. Scatterbrained, he'd been called by a boss or two. It wasn't so much scatterbrained as it was a bit of unaware brain sharing.

But he hadn't shared much of anything with Marc lately. Not since Khonshu had stripped him of his armor mid-fight and almost gotten him killed. That was two weeks ago.

Padding over to his fish tank, Steven placed his hands on his knees, bending forward to take a look at his tiny little school. There were four fishies now, which almost seemed appropriate. One for Steven, Marc, you and now Jake.

Narrowing his eyes, Steven scrutinized the colorful little creatures before reaching for some fish food.

"All right then, time to eat," he chimed. Dumping a few flakes into the water, he smiled at their eager nibbles, until his eyes caught his own reflection.

"You there?" He asked, not actually addressing anyone, but definitely thinking of Marc. "No? ...didn't think so."

With a sigh, Steven sauntered to the kitchen to start the kettle. The flat was dark - the thunderstorm outside made sure of it, and he worried, for a moment, about you trudging home in these conditions.

"Should be alright," he mused to himself, the way he was prone to do. "Not due home for a couple hours yet."

He stopped short when he saw a note on the kitchen counter. It was not unlike the several notes you had left for Jake, on the bedside table. Same envelope at least.

"What's this, then?" he mused, picking it up.

The letters, displayed in your handwriting, spelled 'Marc'.

"Hm. Left you a note. Best come read it," Steven tried to tell his alter. Hearing nothing, he chewed on his lip for a moment before turning the envelope over in his hand.

The contents really did belong to Marc, but Steven felt that maybe had had the best chance of actually communicating with him. So he opened the letter and began to read aloud.

"Hope you don't mind, but I'm going to be reading this," Steven said to no one, because apparently no one was listening. "If you're not going to look at it, you should at least hear it."

'Dear Marc, I can't remember the last time we've gone so long without seeing one another, or at least speaking. Even on your longest missions, it never felt like this. If I could go back to the last time I saw you huddled on the kitchen floor, I would have never let you out of my arms. I would have never ranted about what Jake should do, or how much I hate Khonshu. I would've just held on and told you the truth over and over - that you're everything. That it didn't matter to me if you wore the suit again without telling me because I trust you, and because you can make your own decisions. I've always trusted your judgment. You are the real Moon Knight and you had every right to put on the suit if you felt like you wanted or needed to. I would have told you I support you 100%, that you're needed, that you're loved - that my anger and my bright ideas about how we should march right up to Khonshu and punch his bony beak didn't matter, not when you were feeling so shut out, so displaced, so thrown backwards in time, made to feel any less than. You are not less than Steven. You are not less than Jake. Or me. And you sure as hell are not less than an ancient deity who needs a modern day human body to roam the streets of London. It is he who needs you. And I need you. I need you, Marc. I need to see you again so badly, I can't even breathe sometimes. Not at night, after Steven falls asleep, not in the shower sometimes, or at work, when someone asks after you. I need you so much. Please, this isn't about making you feel guilty. You're my husband. You are the love of my life. I know you're resting now. I know you're taking the time you need. Steven is taking good care of you. But when you're ready, please, please come back to me. I love you so much.'

Running a hand over his chin, Steven folded the letter and put it back where he found it. Peering at his reflection in the microwave, Steven waited...hoping...

But it was quiet.

The next night, you made it home first. Steven had spoiled you rotten the previous, stormy evening. He claimed he was treating you to some warm soup and a hot bath because you were drenched when you arrived home.

But you knew it was because he read your letter and wanted to cheer you up. In fact, you believed that Steven missed Marc too. They didn't always co-front - you typically were only with one of them at a time, but they did talk all the time, and what you had sworn to Marc one afternoon on the rooftop was true: he was Steven's best friend in all the world.

So, a comforting bath and cuddles in bed made you both feel worlds better.

Tonight you wanted to show Steven a little love right back. It was really too bad that you found yourself elbow deep in making vegan fajitas when you heard the front door, because you desperately wanted a big hug.

"I'm in here, babe!" You called, dripping your way over to the sink to wash up.

Steven would have normally spouted off a greeting, two terms of endearment and one fun fact by the time he reached you, but as you turned to see him leaning against the door frame, you only heard the sound of your name...in an American accent.

Your heart rate tripled - your face flamed hot...then you saw your husband's dark curls were covered by a flat cap.

Holy shit. "Jake?"

"Hola," he winked, folding his arms over his chest. Noticing your apparent distress - and automatically assuming he was the cause, the corners of his mouth turned downward.

"Mi amor?" He questioned, his eyes going wide like a child getting in trouble.

"Jake!" You breathed, rushing up to throw your arms around him.

His body sagged in relief, melting into yours until he found the strength to wrap his bigger, stronger arms around your frame.

"Oh my god, oh my god," you gasped, gripping him desperately. "You're here, I can't believe it."

Surprised but thrilled at how relieved and happy you seemed, Jake nuzzled the spot right above your ear, running his hands up and down your back soothingly.

"I hope it's all right," he whispered, his hot breath tickling your ear.

Easing back, you gazed up into his deep brown eyes. "What do you mean? Of course it's all right."

Chewing on his lip worriedly, he shrugged one shoulder adorably, still holding on to you. "It's not a bad time, is it? You're not...supposed to be with Steven? Or anyone?"

You melted. "Baby, it's your body. If you're here, you're here. You don't need my permission." Gently caressing his cheek, you shook your head in wonder. "I just - I don't think I've ever seen you before midnight."

Glancing down at his outfit, you realized you didn't recognize his clothing as Steven or Marc's. Your heart swelled, seeing this new piece of him - a faded, denim jacket over a striped t-shirt.

"And I've never seen you wear anything except Steven's PJ's or your driving uniform," you added, brushing your hand over his.

"Or nothing at all," he cheekily added, biting his lip, waiting for your reaction.

You grinned like a fool, giggling as he swooped you up into a tender kiss. He sampled your lips one at a time, sucking gently, taunting you - until you licked hotly into his mouth, sinking your fingers into his curls. This knocked the cap off his head, which made him growl in response.

Two strong hands dragged your thighs around his waist and in a few long strides, he planted you on the countertop with an 'umph!'

"Sorry," he murmured, his forehead touching yours affectionately as he squeezed your hips, settling right between your spread thighs.

"Was that an offer?" you whispered, referring to him wearing nothing at all. Peppering his smiling lips with little kisses and driving him absolutely crazy, you added, "Is that why you're here?"

Easing back slowly, he swallowed. "I just wanted to see you," he earnestly admitted, a little uncertainty creasing his forehead. "I thought...maybe we could have dinner together. Is that okay?"

He was pretty new to this whole...you thing. Being married...sort of. Making an effort to...be with you. And not just sleep beside you. So he wasn't entirely sure if he was barging in to a special evening with Steven. He also wondered if you were hoping he was Marc. Actually, he was pretty certain that the surprise on your face when he first called your name was you mistaking him for Marc, for just a second.

"Come here," you softly cooed, pulling on his jacket to drag his mouth back to yours. Brushing your lips over his, you used your legs to urge his body flush against your center. "Yes, we can have dinner together..." which reminded you - you were mid-fajita prep when Jake arrived.

Tapping him cutely on the nose, you kissed his mouth one more time. "To be continued."

As you carried on with food prep, a different energy sizzled in the kitchen with Jake, most notably because he was a different person. Marc cooked with you plenty of times. In fact, he probably cooked more often than anyone and he was pretty good at it.

Cooking with Marc was precise, detailed - he knew what he wanted to do and you willingly played a supporting role. The two of you moved with practiced synchrony, like a well-rehearsed dance.

With Steven, it was all about experimentation. As a vegan, Steven was used to substituting ingredients and making things up on the fly. He also left a huge, hilarious mess behind, and typically ended up wearing a portion of his recipe.

For this reason, you had bought Steven an apron that said, 'Team Herbivore' which made Marc roll his eyes every time he saw it. Not because of the slogan but because it had three cute little veggies with smiling faces on it.

With Jake, there was no precise exchange of places, nor an experimental mess. Jake moved right with you from behind, loosely caging you in, picking up a spoon you would set down, stirring while you reached for a knife. You chopped and he added spices. He didn't even ask.

Once your hand was knife free and scraping veggies into the skillet, he was nuzzling into your neck and humming.

You lost your concentration a few times because he was just so close.

"This okay?" He would ask periodically, slipping his hand around your waist to sway with you.

"Where did you learn to cook?" You giggled, melting at the sound of his apparent singing voice?

He paused, going a little stiff.

Hoping you hadn't hit a nerve, you turned around slowly to find him smiling wistfully. "I used to watch my mom."

Your eyes widened as you tried to figure out what to say. Marc had never mentioned cooking with his mom, or her really cooking much at all. He had mentioned going to bed hungry though.

"I know...how she was," Jake softly interjected into your buzzing thoughts. "Especially with Marc." His gaze dropped as he eased back a step. "But sometimes, she would sing in Spanish. And cook. Sometimes I helped."

Reaching for his hand, you gently squeezed. "I didn't know you guys spoke Spanish until we met," you admitted, trying your best to connect a little more with Jake. "That sounds like a wonderful memory."

"One of the few," he sighed. Almost shyly meeting your eyes, he smiled warmly. "I've never told anyone that - or anything...about her."

Using your hold on his hand to pull him closer, you slid one arm around his waist. "You can tell me anything. You know that, right?"

"Mm-hmm," he hummed back, nodding over your shoulder toward the sizzling skillet. "Better stir, mi vida."

Jake's seasonings were totally on point and dinner was delicious. The two of you cleaned up the kitchen and headed to the living room to relax. You noticed Jake sat a little awkwardly on the sofa - in total contrast to the smooth, panther like movements you were accustomed to, late at night, in your bedroom.

"Jake, you okay?" You asked him, grabbing your current reading material and settling down beside him.

He nodded unconvincingly. This was wildly foreign to him. Jake only did a few things in this world: protect, kill when he had to, serve Khonshu, sleep and fuck. He didn't even eat that often - his alters usually saw to most of the body's physical care.

"What...what do you do? At night? What should I do?" He adorably asked.

You almost laughed, it was so cute, but you didn't want to hurt his feelings.

"Well...Marc and I play card games or do puzzles. We watch baseball games or old action movies - "

"You like baseball?" He asked, his eyes lighting up.

"I do," you confirmed with a smile. "The time change is a little weird from here to Chicago or New York, but we watch some afternoon games, or we watch older games."

He nodded, absorbing the information as you went on.

"Steven and I read together, or he reads to me. We like documentaries too. Sometimes I help him study for school." You chuckled, wondering if this all sounded boring to such a night owl like Jake. "Sometimes we have word search races - like, to see who can finish the fastest."

"I do crosswords in my car sometimes," Jake shrugged, as if he totally understood the appeal. "Do you like crosswords?"

"Mm-hmm," you grinned.

It was on. The two of you found a crossword website online and printed out two copies of the same puzzle. Turning on your phone's stopwatch, the race was on.

Jake kicked your ass.

"Let's go again," he chimed, finding another crossword on the laptop. "Loser has to take of their clothes."

You gasped, pretending to be offended. "Mr. Lockley," you playfully scolded.

Hearing you call him Mister anything had him shutting the laptop and scooping you up in his arms, almost racing to the bedroom. "Fuck it," he chuckled. "I surrender, I'll take off my clothes."

You howled with laughter as he deposited you on the bed and kicked off his shoes. Next came his socks - then he went for his belt. Shit, he wasn't kidding.

Crawling backwards on the bed, you settled back to enjoy the show, propped up on a pile of pillows.

Jake had peeled off his jacket while you were cooking, so once his pants were loose, he tugged off his t-shirt. You licked your lips at the way his abdomen flexed at the motion, and almost mewled at the way the shirt's collar mussed his curls. Then he paused, checking for a reaction before removing his pants.

"Don't let me stop you...Mr. Lockley," you teased, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

The corner of his mouth curled as he pushed his pants and boxers all the way down. Leaning forward to kick them off his feet, a loose curl fell across his forehead.

Your mouth went dry at the sight of him naked and ready for you. Climbing onto the bed on his hands and knees, he hovered over you, reveling in the way your eyes devoured him.

"Your turn," he purred, teasing you with a nibble to your lips.

Running your hands all over his smooth skin, you felt between his legs, teasing his length with your fingertips.

Hissing in pleasure, he more than willingly allowed you to have your way, licking wickedly into your mouth while grinding into your palm.

"Do you really read and study all the time, mi vida?" He groaned out, rolling his hips in time with your strokes. "Or is this more your idea of fun?"

"Definitely this," you breathed against his mouth. "A fucking lot of this."

Spending the evening with Jake was a balm to your tender heart. You had seen him since the night Khonshu healed him - since your first night together - but only late at night, for a quick conversation, or for a repeat performance.

So spending an entire, domestic evening with him, ending up between the sheets for hours, before falling asleep draped across his naked body - you were in heaven. Maybe Jake really was going to ease into your life - actually be in a relationship with you.

Your heart swelled with love for your husband - for all the lovely, wonderful parts of the system he was. You would have to grab some extra ingredients from the store and plan another vegan fajita night for Steven, since Jake enjoyed the first batch. Not that Steven minded, angel that he was.

Which only left Marc.

Even with your heart so full and alive, there was still a gaping hole. As always, you tried not to put the other two in the middle of any situation, or treat them like messengers to try to get to Marc. But they were more than ready with updates.

Steven had confessed to reading the letter, and trying to talk out loud to Marc several times a day. Jake said the same, finally asking you if maybe it was his fault that Marc was so absent - so silent.

The three of you agreed that Marc just needed some time. As always, you decided not to take it personally. This was about him.

You beat Steven home again the following evening, and this time, waiting on the kitchen counter, was an envelope bearing your name.

next->

@stormydaysxx @laaundromat @kindlover @deezisnotreal @stevenknightmarc @imonmykneessir @marvelouslovely-barnes @evilbubu @usualsworld @rivalriotrenegade @wordacadabra @this--is--music @i-still-dont-like-your-face @avengersinitiative2012 @lockleywife @poppyflower-22 @thursdaywritings @scoliobean @peregrine-nation @local-mr-frog @ren-ni @valkyrie05x @randomhoex @tsukkie-daisuke @flyestvenustrap @spxctorsslxt @cicithemess2000 @bitchotine

dividers by saradika

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rickssugarplum · 6 months

Text

The Rick is Over

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR 7x05! Watch it first before reading this! Thanks and enjoy! ❤

(Rick Sanchez x Reader) Spoilers for 7x05, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

You help Rick process it all.

With the pull of the lever, all the lights in the sub-basement go out, finalizing the end of the decades-long show that's been ongoing most of his life.

It's all finally over.

Rick Prime is dead.

Still coated head to toe in blood, Rick stands in the darkness in the now useless lair, where he'd spent countless days and nights searching, tracking, and looking for any signs of his lifelong enemy. The one who caused him all his pain, destroyed all of his dreams he had when he was young. All he ever wanted, was to live as a husband and father to the two most precious girls in his life.

That life had been ripped away from him so many years ago.

Now, he has killed the man who was responsible. His ultimate goal had been achieved.

So, why does he still feel so empty?

He didn't say a word while flying back home. The voice of his grandson right beside him felt like miles away. It was as if his entire world had gone mute. He could not just go to sleep in his room. Not tonight.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

You were in your living room, reading a book in complete silence, until it was broken by the familiar whirling sound of the portal. You were clearly expecting Rick to emerge from it, but you nearly screamed when you saw him soaked in crimson blood.

"Oh my God! Rick?!!" you shrieked as you stepped towards him. He stood there, emotionless.

"Rick! What the fuck happened!? You look like you came through a slaughter!"

The old man just looked at you; still silent. It caused even more panic in your veins.

"Rick, please. You're scaring me! What is going on!? Say something!" you begged. He was never one to be quiet, even more alarming when he's drenched in blood. Did an adventure go awry or...

"W-where's Morty!? Is he okay?" You asked in fear that something might have happened to him. Your heart rate slightly lowered when he nodded, assuring his grandson was alright.

Looking more closely at him, you saw more damage inflicted on his face. "Jesus Christ, Rick. Your nose is broken!"

Rick finally spoke in a hoarse but defiant voice. "I got him."

His bloodshot eyes stared directly into yours. You saw the anger he's shown in them only when he's described his past, his stolen life; his darkest demons.

Immediately, you knew who he was talking about.

"You-you got...him?" You couldn't speak the name, despite sharing it with the man in front of you. Rick simply nodded again. Not knowing what exactly happened, the blood covering him made one thing clear.

Rick had finally killed his enemy.

Slowly, you took his hands, searching in his eyes for any ounce of how he was feeling, knowing he had avenged his wife and daughter.

"Are-are you okay?"

Morty had asked him that exact same question after it was all said and done. He said that he was. But now seeing the concern in your face and repeating his grandson's words just mere hours before caused the final crack in the dam.

Suddenly you felt two long arms around you, grasping your frame tightly, and Rick let out the loudest, broken wail you'd ever hear. His anguish was bigger than his body, causing him to collapse, dragging you both to your floor. You simply held him as he cried into you, letting out decades of repressed grief and trauma that'd haunted him.

"Shhhh... It's okay, Rick..." you murmured, placing his head on your chest and stroking his slightly damp hair. "It's over..." you whispered. "I'm here... I've got you..."

The man was trembling like a newborn fawn. He looked so fragile. You couldn't possibly know exactly what was going through his tormented mind as he screamed into your chest. His cries sounded so animalistic, it almost scared you. But your heart was breaking hearing him suffer inside. He had cried for the life he lost, his wife he had promised forever to, and his little girl, whom he swore to protect. All Rick wanted was to have his beloved Diane by his side and to see his baby Beth grow up. He wanted them to grow old together. All of his plans. His dreams. Their future, will never come.

Tears welled up in your own eyes, but you stayed and gently rocked him, whispering words of comfort.

"It's alright, baby," you said softly.

Baby. Diane used to call him that. He let out another sob at that memory. Leaning down, you press soft kisses on his forehead.

"I'm so proud of you, Rick..." you confessed. It was the truth. You wanted him to know that. How lucky you were to have the most passionate Rick throughout infinity. He squeezed you a bit tighter at your affirmation.

Time didn't matter to either of you. You could hold him forever if he needed it. That would be how long it would take to heal this broken heart.

After awhile, his sobs started to fade into soft weeping.

"Rick? Can you look at me?" You asked softly. There was no command in your voice. It was mainly to make sure he knew his surroundings. Slowly, he lifts his head up to look at you. The blood of his enemy was slightly rinsed underneath his eyes from tears. You cupped his face in your hands so tenderly, giving him a faint smile.

"You did it."

Rick's expression had become nearly blank. After all the crying, he almost felt numb. "What do you need right now?" you asked him, stroking his cheek.

He wrapped his arms around you again. This time, not in desperation, but in comfort and gratitude. In his hold, he simply whispered,

"Just you..."

It relieved you to hear his answer. You both stayed in your embrace, with no plans on letting each other go. Rick could feel a slight relief as you assured him you were not going anywhere. He closed his eyes and let everything sink in. Through all the changes he's made, he's achieved the biggest change of all. The hunt for his nemesis was over.

So.

What now?

He's going to find out.

❤

#rick and morty spoilers #season 7 spoilers #unmortricken #rick sanchez #rick sanchez x reader #rickssugarplum

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humanpurposes · 1 month

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Karma is a God, Chapter 15: The Lakeshore

The Dance of the Dragons begins on a lie, and Aemond owes a debt, one Lucerra will see repaid in Fire and Blood // Main Masterlist

Aemond x Lucerra Velaryon (fem!Lucerys)

Warnings for this chapter: 18+, spoilers for F&B and future seasons of HotD, canon divergence, descriptions of violence, angst, mentions of death and war

A/n: We're back after five whole months!! I've been deep in the brainrot for this fic recently, and I'm so happy I've come back to it. I've had this series planned out since December 2022 and I'm really excited to see it through.

Also, psa I guess, this series is no longer going to be updated on Tumblr, all future chapters will be posted on AO3.

I do want to say thank you to everyone who's shown this fic some love on here, it makes me so happy seeing it come up in my notifs, I can't wait for you all to continue reading it :)❤️

Full Chapter on AO3

The voice in Luke’s head whispers again. Blood.

It is everywhere, in the colour of the sky, in the clouds and the setting sun. It’s in the water, spilled from the bodies of two dead dragons. Watery red waves ripple over the lakeshore, rushing over her boots, running back to the lake and seeping through the pebbles into the earth.

Aemond is covered in it. He is on his knees before her, an arrow lodged in the shoulder of his sword arm, his riding leathers sodden, his silver hair soaked and stained pink. She wonders if he can taste it, the blood of Caraxes and Vhagar on his tongue.

Even when she takes up Dark Sister and places its point to his throat, he is staring at her with the intent of a hunter. His seeing eye is wide, his eyepatch washed away and his sapphire almost black in the absence of light. The scar that frames it, the scar carved by her hand, is inflamed, furious and red.

The last time she had seen it, he was holding a knife against her cheek, demanding retribution, seeking payment for her debt.

It seems like another lifetime ago, before Arrax, before Shipbreaker Bay, before she had clawed her way through endless, agonising pain to find her way to Jace, before she had buried two of her siblings, when Rhaenyra was her mother and not her Queen.

The sword– Daemon’s sword, feels wrong in her hand, but then it should not be hers to have.

“Remember all he has taken from you,” her step-father had said.

And she does. She remembers it all.

Aemond’s arrogance to not weep and grovel and beg for his life, after everything, is an insult.

She had never felt so sure of herself, so determined that she knew what path the Gods had mapped for her. Aemond would not have a noble death or the burial rites of their family. He would be lost to the lake with an arrow pierced through his black heart, remembered as a traitor and a kinslayer. She would be his end. It was only right.

Daemon had trusted her, handed her the bow she would use to kill him, told her to stay hidden amongst the trees and wait for the right moment to strike.

In the blur of battle, as night engulfed the sky and poisoned the air with its cold, she had missed her mark. She knew it the moment the arrow left the bow that it would not be enough to kill him.

The danger in that was Vhagar. The dragon howled in fury and surged towards her atop Grey Ghost. Aemond had his chance then. He could have finished what he began at Storm’s End, claimed her life, seen his debt fulfilled.

Then Vhagar had steered away.

It was hard to see what became of them in the final struggle. The dragons were a single mass of bloody flesh, joined with teeth and talons. Daemon leapt from his saddle, sword in hand. She might have screamed, either way it would have gone unheard.

Aemond must have realised what was happening when he started to fuss with his chains. He released himself and then they were falling.

Aemond and Daemon were lost to darkness but Vhagar and Caraxes plunged into the God’s Eye with a colossal splash that reached so high it appeared to match the height of Harrenhal itself.

She was standing on the lakeshore before she found herself in the mind of her dragon.

She watched through Grey Ghost’s eyes as he flew towards the lake and dived beneath the surface of the water. In that void his claws curled around a body.

She was standing on the shore again, inside her own mind again, waiting for Grey Ghost to deliver what– who he had found.

Grey Ghost set the body down. He may have had stained silver hair and Dark Sister clutched in his hand, but she knew right away it wasn’t her step-father. There was still life in him– in Aemond.

What will her mother think now?

She feels Aemond swallow against the blade, the movement of his throat piercing his skin. A droplet of blood trails down his neck, below his collar.

She knows what she has to do– what she should do: push forwards, watch him choke on blood and steel.

He draws his tongue between his lips. His voice is almost a whisper, thick and strained. “Please.”

Her hold on the hilt falters. Perhaps she should feel some semblance of pride, now that she has him at her mercy, breathless and broken.

“Please.”

She watches the blood trail from the small cut she has made in his neck. She imagines it spraying from a larger wound, coating Dark Sister, seeping through his teeth and his lips.

“You can beg better than that, surely,” she says...

Read the rest of Chapter 15 on AO3

Tags (comment to be added to either)

Series taglist: @adragonprinceswhore @toodlesxcuddles @arcielee

General taglist: @randomdragonfires @theoneeyedprince @targaryenrealnessdarling @jamespotterismydaddy @tsujifreya @blackswxnn

#aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond x oc #aemond x ofc #aemond x fem!lucerys #hotd #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #aemond x original female character #aemond x reader #fem!lucerys #lucemond #my fics #karma is a god

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dearest-and-nearest · 6 months

Text

"I could kill you."

The voice still didn't want to obey her. It scratched her throat and chest, was too low and hoarse. Red stared at the man who knew her and whom she didn't.

Gortash shrugged nonchalantly:

"I don't doubt you, nor do I doubt your ability to control your urges."

"You should."

This was all wrong. This "dinner," his behavior, his words. Red tried to rummage through her mangled brain, but only came across faceless shadows. One of them resembled Gortash, but remained a shadow.

"How can you be so sure?" Red rubbed her throat dark with veins. She knew the others were afraid of her. Almost everyone took their eyes away from her face, flinched at the low rattle of her voice, expected to be about to draw their weapons.

And only Gortash alone was calm despite everything

He sipped his wine, looking down at his glass:

" I've known you for ten years, Red. You can control yourself."

Red snorted. Well, compared to Orin. 'No more than that.

"You don't believe me. Well."

Finishing his drink, he quickly rose to his feet. Red watched him approach suspiciously, expecting anything but the tyrant kneeling before her. A chair rattled, pushing back as she jumped up. Gortash watched it with his usual smirk. It didn't even take remembering to be sure: it was the way he grinned all the time. Red roared:

"Decided to play games, eh?"

She looked around anxiously, expecting an ambush. Gortash, on the other hand, was watching her, too calm to not make her nervous. Her tail twitched at her feet.

Gortash said quietly:

"You won't kill me, Red, because I know you. You're not a crazy beast like Orin, you control yourself. The only one left to make sure of that is yourself."

She froze, staring at him. Her breathing quickened, her instincts sharpened. As if mesmerized, Red reached for his throat. Claws touched the swarthy skin. It seemed as if Urge was about to take over, spinning her head habitually, leaving nothing but blood… But nothing. Her body was with her, and no familiar desires blossomed in her chest.

Red breathed out, running her fingertips along his neck upward, to his chin. Gortash's skin was rough and warm, with scars invisible to the eye but noticeable to the touch. The stubble pricked her fingers. Red took his chin gently, lifting it and peering into the black eyes.

Gortash nodded:

"I told you so."

His fingers encircled hers, the cold metal of his claws scratching her skin lightly. Gortash brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. Almost weightlessly, but still causing her to exhale in surprise.

If it had been anyone else in his place, and the room would have drowned in blood, but everything was still the same.

He stood up, confident enough to keep her interested.

"I know you, and far better than any of your 'companions'."

"I could have killed you."

"Actually, you couldn't. You're standing very close to one of traps and all it would take is my desire to activate it." Gortash said it casually, as if he was talking about the weather. Red snorted. What else would you expect. No one would put their life in her hands, especially someone who loved that life so much.

Still not letting go of her hand, Gortash said:

"You are magnificent, especially now, returning what was rightfully given to you. And that's why I'll be around to help you do it."

"By almost killing me?"

"You're alive and well. I see no reason to be displeased." With a cheeky smirk, he kissed her knuckles again, and reluctantly let go after all. Red glanced out the window. If she was going to go back to camp, she should have gone now. But was she going to do it today?

"You promised to tell me about me. About the past."

He laughed, sitting down on the edge of the table like a boy:

"You've really changed! You used to complain about me talking instead of doing. But I'm true to my word. What do you want to know?"

Red looked at him again, without any hostility. And then she tried to grin at least.

#bg3 gortash #dark urge x gortash #enver gortash #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 oc #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 gif #lord gortash #gortash x durge #bg3 glassred #glassred #durge x gortash

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clairenovakz · 7 months

Text

asylum (sam winchester x reader)

pairing: season one sam x reader warnings: canon compliant, general violence, hint of smut (more like just making out) summary: canon-insert for episode 1x10, asylum. on a routine hunt, you run into a pair of hunters - one of which has a sad smile and the look of a kicked puppy. word count: 5k a/n: hello! i've been rewatching supernatural recently and had this idea cooking in my brain... i've never written fanfic like this before so any feedback is appreciated! i feel like i've written this with a continuation in mind but... we'll see! i would love to write stuff that isn't just fully based in canon so feel free to send me requests

Walking through the Roosevelt Asylum was definitely not in your list of top ten things you wanted to do today, and yet - here you are. The air is musty with the scent of old rust and clinging spiderwebs, and you are almost certain this place has to be haunted by something.

You’d seen the reports of the death of Walter Kelly and had immediately been suspicious. After doing some preliminary research about the area and its lore, you’d gone straight to the asylum to check it out. This wasn’t your first rodeo; as a seasoned hunter with more than just a few kills under your belt, you weren’t feeling too spooked about this hunt in particular. A ghost, an asylum, a freaky accident. It’s basically textbook.

Creeping through the dark, you had one hand on an EMF meter and another on a flashlight. The room you were in wasn’t lighting anything up on the EMF, and you shook it just to be sure, as if somehow that would call the ghosts to you. Sighing, you slipped out of the room. There was already a fine layer of dust just coating your body from being in this place, and it was gross.

Just as you were beginning to think that this was maybe a fruitless endeavor, you heard some footsteps. “Shit,” you muttered, pressing yourself up against the nearest wall to listen. With two clicks, you shut your flashlight and your EMF off. If it was cops, this was really not going to look great on your permanent record…

“I told you, it’s not ESP!” A man’s voice was coming from around the corner, and your ears perked up. “I just have strange vibes sometimes. Weird dreams.”

“Yeah, whatever. Don’t ask, don’t tell.” Another voice. You felt your skin prickle and you shifted your foot, attempting to move back. They were coming towards you.

“You get any reading on that thing or what?” The first voice spoke again. As you listened, you could hear the telltale signs of an EMF meter.

You furrowed your brow. Either they were amateur ghost hunters, or something more similar to yourself. Definitely not cops. Or maybe just really weird cops. You were beginning to doubt yourself.

Figuring this was as good a time as any to reveal yourself, you stepped out from the dark and down the hall to the voices. Flashes of light from the window slats hit your face as you made yourself known. In front of you were two young men, one tall and slightly lanky with a brown flop of hair, and the other shorter with an almost too-chiseled jawline. They immediately tensed seeing you.

“Sorry to interrupt.” You smiled at them slightly sheepishly.

“Who are you?” The short one asked, hand reaching behind him as he glared at you.

“Better question - who are you guys?” You asked back, holding your hands up to show you were defenseless. Well, as far as they knew.

“You really shouldn’t be in here…” The short one raised an eyebrow at you.

“Yeah, says the two guys who are also in here.” You countered. Deciding talking to this guy wasn’t working, you aimed your eyes at the taller one. He was definitely younger - you could see that his warm hazel eyes didn’t seem so suspicious of you.

“I’m Sam, this is Dean.” He said cautiously, tapping the shorter one on the back as if to tell him to relax. “We’re looking around, just doing some research for a project.”

“Psh.” You scoffed. “Like I believe that for a second.”

“Lady, what’s your problem?” The short one - Dean, you suppose - cocked his head at you.

“I’m Y/N.” You said, lowering your hands finally. “I’m here because I’m hunting whatever decided to make Walter Kelly kill himself.”

Sam and Dean stopped in their tracks, and then looked at each other, communicating silently. Finally, Dean threw his head back in annoyance and looked at you again. “You’re for real?”

“No, I’m just being crazy,” You retorted, rolling your eyes. “Yes. Obviously. I wouldn’t wander an asylum for fun in my free time.”

Sam choked back a laugh at that, and Dean hit his elbow. “Alright, Y/N.” Dean said your name like you’d taken some candy from him. “We’re here for the same thing, happy? Now I’d appreciate it if you moved out of the way so we could do our job.”

“Dean.” Sam coughed slightly.

“What?” Dean looked around incredulously.

“I’m pretty sure I got here before you two bozos.” You said, also trying to hold back a laugh. “So I’m gonna say I’ll graciously let you work the case with me. If you’d like.”

The three of you exchanged glances. You could tell they were sizing you up. You were in plain clothes, but the bag slung crossbody over your bag was full of hunting gear. You looked them over as well. They seemed capable enough. It had been quite some time since you’d worked a case with someone else, and somehow you felt a little relieved they’d come along. Hunting alone was probably the loneliest thing anyone could do.

“Fine.” Dean said, moving to push past you. “But don’t expect me to go easy on you.”

“Oh, whatever.” You moved to follow him down the hallway towards another room. Sam came up behind you.

“Sorry. Brothers, right?” He gave you a small smile and you looked at his dimples. For some reason, you felt a small kick in your chest, and realized you were staring.

“Hm.” You humored him with a smile of your own, tucking some of your hair back. “I wouldn’t know.”

After investigating the asylum, the three of you had discovered that a man named Sanford Ellicott had been the Chief of Staff at the asylum. You had sensed that the boys had paused whatever conversation they were having now that you were around, but you pretended that you didn’t notice. You had never really been a part of a large community of hunters, if one existed out there, so being with two working the same case was a little odd. You swapped numbers with them quickly and then had set to work.

As crass as Dean had been in your first conversation, he seemed to warm a little to you after walking around the asylum together. Sam, however, kept trying to make easy conversation with you, and it was making you feel unnecessarily mushy inside. Okay, he was really cute. And you didn’t have to pretend to have a day job around him. But being the professional you were, you weren’t going to make a move until the job had settled down. Besides, you weren’t exactly sure what vibe you were picking up from him anyway.

You had been quick to track down a living relative of Ellicott’s - a man named James Ellicott who was working as a psychiatrist. After telling Sam and Dean, they quickly hatched a plan to send Sam in to have a session with him in order to gain information. This left you with Dean to loiter around the outside of the medical center and pretend like you weren’t suspicious.

“So…” You started, hoping to get on Dean’s good side while Sam was away.

“What?” Dean didn’t turn to look at you, spacing out as he looked in the far distance.

“How long have you been hunting?” You asked, just by way of making small talk.

“Mm,” Dean shrugged. “Probably my whole life. Runs in the family.” He seemed almost reluctant to keep his mouth shut, but you couldn’t get a full read on him.

You nodded. “Yeah. Me too.” You thought back to your parents, and the way you had lived on the road when they were still alive. Sometimes it was easier just to forget. “You and Sam got any family around?”

Dean gave you a slightly pained look. “We’re, uh, actually kind of looking for our dad right now.” His eyes shifted away from you. “It’s kind of why we even came here in the first place.”

“Hm.” You sensed he probably didn’t want to talk about it. Not wanting to make things more awkward, you both went back to spacing out until Sam got back.

As Sam exited the doors of the medical center, Dean hurried to catch up to him, you following closely behind. “Dude! You were in there forever, what the hell were you talking about?”

Sam shrugged, continuing to walk. “Just the hospital, you know.”

“And…?”

Sam began to relay the information to the two of you. What really caught your interest was that the patients had rioted and killed Ellicott, but his body was apparently never recovered.

“Christ,” you said, shaking your head a little. “That’s awful.”

“Yeah,” Sam replied. “The hospital closed down after all that.”

“So, to sum it up,” Dean grumbled. “We've got a bunch of violent deaths and a bunch of unrecovered bodies.”

The three of you made a plan to return to the asylum that night. There was a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach. Dealing with death wasn’t easy, despite your job. Being in a place of such tragedy only made things worse. When you thought back to the things you’d seen, you sometimes wished you weren’t in this life. But it was like Dean had said - these things ran in the family business. You shuddered to think about the gory details.

You and the boys decked yourself out in hunting gear. EMF, flashlights, shotguns filled with salt rounds, and a video camera that Sam had in hand. A chill passed over you as the three of you walked through the front doors once again, stepping into the dust and old wood.

As you covered the floor, the three of you began to separate. It wasn’t until you heard yelling that you quickly ran back to Sam. An old woman covered in blood was coming towards him, and you quickly lifted your shotgun. “Get down!”

Sam threw himself to the floor as you shot. The woman quickly disintegrated, and Dean ran over to his brother to help him up. Panting slightly, the three of you converged.

“That was weird.” Sam said, looking around in slight shock.

“Yeah, you’re tellin’ me.” Dean said, quickly beginning to move away.

“Weird how?” You asked, following behind closely.

“Just - weird that she didn’t attack me.” Sam caught up to the two of you. You and Dean exchanged a glance.

“Uh, she was coming right at you, wasn’t she?” You asked, confused.

“She didn't hurt me.” Sam insisted. “She didn't even try! So if she didn't wanna hurt me then what did she want?”

Before either of you could reply, a noise startled you all. Dean raised his shotgun as you crept forward, moving slowly and scanning the room. Sam reached out and suddenly revealed a living, human girl crouching in the corner. She nearly screamed at the sight of you all.

“It’s okay, we’re not gonna hurt you.” You said calmly. You reached out for her and she grabbed your hand, steadying herself. “What’s your name?”

The girl explained her name was Kat, and that she was here with her boyfriend Gavin. You groaned internally, knowing how stupid it was for these teens to be around the asylum. Even worse, she wanted to stick around to find her boyfriend even when offered to be escorted outside. You put your arm around her and tried to give her some comfort.

“It’s no joke around here,” Dean said crossly. “It’s dangerous.”

“I know! That’s why I’ve gotta find Gavin…” Kat seemed insistent, despite her obvious fear. You squeezed her shoulder.

“Don’t worry. We’re gonna find him.” You gave her your best reassuring smile, and then looked at the boys. Sam was giving you a soft look and then smiled at you slightly, although you couldn’t exactly discern why.

“Alright, I guess we’re gonna split up.” Dean motioned for Kat to come with him. “Let’s go.”

You let Kat go as she followed Dean. Sticking by Sam, you decided to go deeper into the asylum.

“Gavin? Gavin?” Sam called out, you trailing behind him. He stopped suddenly and you bumped into his back quite hard. “Shit, sorry, Y/N.” He whirled around to take a look at your face.

“Warn me next time you’re gonna do that.” You said through a smile.

“Sorry.” He apologized again, sheepishly smiling at you.

“You already said that, dummy.” You gently punched his shoulder and then started walking, trying to guide him to keep looking. “Don’t worry about it. Did you see something or…?”

“Yeah, I thought so,” Sam looked around again, trying to catch what had stopped him. “Oh wait- look!”

He hurried into the next room and you followed, seeing a boy on the floor, unconscious. Clearly, Gavin.

Sam went to wake him as you stood behind. You could see how soft his hair looked from behind and it was really beginning to distract you. You shook your head to keep yourself focused, and then finally tuned in to what Gavin was saying.

“She tried to kiss you?” You almost wanted to laugh, even though you knew how disgusting that probably was. Gavin looked like he wanted to cry or vomit. Or both.

“Yeah, her face was all messed up. It was seriously freaky.”

“But did she… she didn’t hurt you, physically?” Sam asked, trying to get at something. You finally remembered your earlier conversation that had gotten cut off. Did Sam think the ghosts here were completely mundane, and not evil spirits?

“Dude! She kissed me! I’m scarred for life!”

Sam turned back to look at you with a look of ‘can-you-believe-this-guy?’ and you actually had to turn around to keep from laughing. You hadn’t imagined that Sam had a secret bitchy side, but it was endearing.

After collecting Gavin, you and Sam headed back to Dean. As you drew near, you could hear sounds of shouting and something against the wall. You quickened your pace alongside Sam.

“Dean! What’s going on?” Sam shouted, running up to his brother, who was attempting to jam the door open.

“She’s inside with one of them!”

Kat was screaming inside and you immediately began trying to slam your body against the door with Dean, trying to get it open. It was futile thought, and the more Kat screamed “help me!” the more you felt sick with guilt. You shouldn’t have left her side - she was the most vulnerable one in the situation. And you knew exactly how that felt.

“Kat, it’s not going to hurt you.” Sam suddenly said. “Listen, you’ve got to face it. Try to calm down.”

You and Dean both turned to Sam in slight astonishment. What Sam meant clicked for you slightly faster than it did for Dean, as you shouted, “Oh shit, I get it!” at the same time that he said “She’s gotta what?!”

“These spirits, they're not trying to hurt us, they're trying to communicate.” Sam was slightly panicking, although you could tell he was trying to stay calm. “You gotta face it. You gotta listen to it.”

“No! You face it!” Kat’s voice on the other side of the door was desperate.

“Kat, just look at it! You can do this!” You said, deciding to trust Sam. You gave him a slight nod and he nodded back.

A tense silence fell over your group as you struggled to hear what Kat was doing. “Man, I hope you’re right about this.” Dean muttered, looking worried.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, the door clicked open and Kat stepped out. “Kat…” Gavin stepped forward to embrace her as Sam examined the room she had just been in. You put your hand on Kat’s shoulder and tension seemed to leave her body a bit. Sam stepped back out and only shook his head.

“I’m sorry this is happening to you.” You said sincerely, and Kat only trembled in response.

“One-thirty-seven.” She said, finally.

“What’s that?” You asked.

“It whispered in my ear. One-thirty-seven.”

“Room number.” Sam and Dean said in unison. They stepped back to have a private conversation, and you, not wanting to leave Kat and Gavin lest another spirit appear, tried to give the couple some small comfort.

“Alright, you guys ready to get out of here?” Dean asked, a hint of humor in his voice.

You had opted to escort the couple out while Sam and Dean went to investigate room 137. As they disappeared, Kat and Gavin followed behind you as you tried to weave your way back to the entrance.

“How did you end up doing this job?” Kat asked suddenly, and you blew out a heavy breath.

“Shitty family?” You tried to laugh, but it wasn’t really funny.

“And Sam and Dean, are they like… your bosses?”

“God, no.” This time you actually laughed. “I only met them like earlier today.”

Kat and Gavin seemed somewhat impressed by this. “You guys work well together.”

You didn’t respond, but you had been thinking the same thing. You’d never really given much thought to trying to hunt with others again, given that the last time you had… it hadn’t ended how you’d liked. You just shrugged and the conversation petered off, trying to focus on leaving. But every door you tried was locked.

“We have a problem.” You finally said, admitting defeat.

“Can’t you break a door down? Or a window?” Gavin asked.

“The windows are barred. And no, I don’t think that’ll work anyway.” You half-mumbled, trying to parse out the situation. The spirits were keeping you here for some reason. But if it was as Sam said, and the spirits were friendly, then it wasn’t them. It had to be something else.

“Oh god, what the hell do we do?” Gavin was beginning to sweat.

“It’s going to be okay, calm down.” You tried to use your best reassuring voice, but it was hard when you didn’t know what to do either. Suddenly, you felt your phone buzzing. As you pulled it out, you saw that it was Sam.

“Yeah?” You answered promptly.

“We’re in the basement, I can see it. It’s coming towards us.” His voice sounded odd somehow, but you couldn’t quite place it behind your sudden panic. “Hurry, Y/N!”

“On my way, stay there!” You said, hanging up. Gavin and Kat looked at you, and you reluctantly took out your shotgun. “Any chance you guys know how to use this?”

Gavin scoffed at the same time that Kat nodded. You smiled at her.

“Okay, it’s only loaded with rock salt. Shoot anything if it tries to get you.” You handed it to her. “And stay here!”

You felt bad leaving them again, but Kat seemed to have gained some new confidence after her experience with the spirit. You raced downstairs to the basement, hoping to catch Sam and Dean before they got into trouble. You clicked your flashlight on, beams hitting shakily in front of you as you ran. “Sam? Dean?”

Down in the basement, you hurriedly began looking for the brothers, but found no sign of them. “Hello? Sam? Dean?” Your flashlight started to flicker suddenly, and you tapped it to try to get it to work again. “Dammit, what the hell?” You peeked past a few curtains and decided to backtrack.

Turning around suddenly, you saw Sam standing right in front of you. “Holy shit!” You nearly screamed. “Sam, you scared me. Where were you?”

“I’m fine.” He said solemnly, slightly stilted. His hands were slightly behind his back, which you found odd but didn’t question.

“I thought you said you were in trouble.” You said, looking around. “And where’s Dean, weren’t you with him?”

“He’ll be here very soon.” Sam said. He seemed so stiff all of a sudden, and as you looked at him you couldn’t seem to see life in his eyes anymore.

“What’s going on? Are you okay, for real?” You asked nervously, taking a step back. A creeping feeling ran over your neck.

“You’re asking way too many questions.” Suddenly, Sam raised an arm and hit you so hard with a metal pipe that you saw stars. The last thing you saw before you passed out was Sam’s cold stare.

You woke up with a start. Blood was absolutely dripping down your face, covering you in what appeared to be a gorey mess, but you could tell it was just from your nose. You were laying flat on the ground, dizzy and somewhat disoriented. But you could immediately hear a kerfuffle not too far from you.

Dragging yourself out, you finally saw the scene in front of you with blurry eyes. Sam was aiming a gun at Dean, yelling about something you couldn’t quite understand with your just-waking-up brain. You pushed yourself forward, basically crawling as you tried to get closer. Dean was trapped under Sam, and you couldn’t quite see his face from the angle you were at.

As your vision began to clear, you heaved yourself up. Oh fuck, you thought to yourself through a wave of nausea. Sam is going to fucking kill his brother.

It occurred to you finally that Sam was possessed by that damn Ellicott. The gun he was pointing at Dean with was not the same shotgun filled with salt. You looked around for something to stop it from happening, and saw the discarded pipe he had hit you with earlier. You slowly moved towards it, and picked it up with a quiet strength. As you stood up to your full height, Dean finally saw you coming towards him and his brother with a pipe in hand.

“You hate me that much? You think you could kill your own brother?” Dean spat. “Then go ahead. Pull the trigger. Do it!”

Before Sam could do anything, you were already behind him. “Payback’s a bitch!” You said as you suddenly swung the pipe at Sam, knocking him out cold in one swing. You hadn’t hit him quite as hard as he had hit you, but the way he collided on the ground made you think you might have matching broken noses.

“Y/N, watch out!” Dean shouted, and suddenly a ghostly old man was upon you. His fingers were digging into your face and you were pushed down again, screaming.

“I’m going to make you all better.” Ellicott said, and you tried to wrestle away from him.

“Get off of me!” You yelled, straining to shield yourself from his attack. You could feel yourself being overcome, and almost thought you were done for when suddenly Ellicott started screaming too. You regained enough consciousness to see him suddenly ablaze, body turning black and ashen as he disappeared in smoke right in front of you. Dazed, you turned to see Dean with a lighter in front of a cupboard, the remains of a smoking body before him.

“Wow,” You said, laughing a little. “Go team.”

The three of you properly reconvened at a motel after saying goodbye to Kat and Gavin. You had set your nose and Sam was holding an ice pack to his head, still apologizing to you profusely after what he had done. You couldn’t believe this boy was so apologetic that he’d be sorry for something he had no control over whatsoever.

“Sam, seriously, for the last time - it’s okay.” You gently touched the part of his head you had hit. “I already got you back good.”

He snorted. “Yeah, I suppose so.” He looked at you fondly and smiled, which you returned.

“Alright,” Dean flopped onto the motel bed. “Y/N, I hate to do this to you, but you gotta get out. It’s time for my beauty sleep.”

You grinned. “Okay, princess Dean. Whatever. Thanks for being on this hunt with me, guys.”

Dean gave you a thumbs up from the bed, and you had a feeling he wasn’t going to move again. Sam put a hand on the small of your back. “Can I walk you to your room?”

“Sure,” you said, rather shyly. After the events of the day and nearly killing each other, you’d think you would feel less like a teenage girl with a stupid crush. The two of you stepped outside and he walked with you to your room in the motel, which was only a few doors down. You unlocked it swiftly and stepped inside.

“So…” Sam started, finally taking the ice pack off and looking at you with what you could only describe as puppy-dog eyes.

“So… wanna come in?” You asked, stepping back to make room for him. He smiled widely at that.

The two of you sat on the motel bed together. The printed florals were really not matching the mood, but you could stand it if it meant he was here with you. Your heart was pounding as you inched your fingers towards his, placing your pinky on top of his. Before you could say anything, Sam suddenly turned and leaned in close. “Can I…”

“Yes, duh.” You closed the distance and suddenly the two of you were kissing desperately. Despite your nose, and despite his head injury, you didn’t seem to care anymore.

He pulled you close to him, fingers gripping your waist and finding the hem of your shirt. Having his hand against your skin made you flush, and you moaned slightly as he dipped you continuously closer to him. You brought a hand up to his hair, dragging your fingers through his locks as he laid you back against the bed. He groaned in return when you tugged slightly, kissing him with every fiber of your body.

You wanted to feel his skin. You moved your hands to pull his shirt up and he let you roam his chest, feeling how his lanky body was suddenly quite firm underneath. You were slightly surprised - he looked so much like a skinny nothing, yet he was hiding all this muscle under here. You kissed each other fervently, sweating slightly as he pulled your legs up.

“Do you have a condom?” He muttered in your ear, kissing down your neck.

“Yeah, I’ll get it.” You whispered back coyly, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth as you untangled yourself from him. You moved to your bag to grab your condoms, and then turned back to look at him.

There, in the dim light of the motel room, you could see how his eyes were slightly watery. His posture was tense, and he seemed somewhat on guard. And you knew then that something was wrong.

“Sam… do you want this?” You asked, sliding back onto the bed but a slight ways away from him.

“Of course I do.” He said, but only after hesitating slightly.

“Sam…” You reached out for him, linking your pinkies again. “It’s okay if you don’t. I’m fine either way.”

Sam studied you for a long moment. He seemed like he wasn’t sure what to say. Then, he leaned towards you and pulled you in for a long hug. Surprised, you slowly put your arms around him.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He whispered, pulling back slightly to look at you. “I hate to disappoint you.”

“No, no. Don’t say that.” You smiled at him gently. “You could never.”

He just nodded slightly. You put the condoms on the nightstand and leaned in close to him. “Do you want to talk?”

He hesitated again. Finally, after a tense moment, he spoke. “My… girlfriend died recently. And I’m… I think I still need time.”

You didn’t wait to pull him close to you again. This time, you squeezed him hard. “I’m sorry. That’s awful.”

“It’s… yeah, it is.” His voice was so small now you could hardly hear it.

“What do you need?” You asked.

“Some sleep, probably?” He forced a laugh out.

“Wanna stay here or go back to Dean?” You asked, pulling back to look at his beautiful hazel eyes. He looked so soft here, so much more boyish than he’d seemed during the day.

“Mm.” He slowly laid down on the bed. “If you’d have me… It might be nice to stay here for a bit.”

You laid down with him. “Sure, Sam.” Gently, you reached towards him to tuck his hair back. He closed his eyes. “Whatever you need.”

You quickly got ready for bed and the two of you fell asleep shortly after that. When morning came, you weren’t surprised to find him gone. Something ached in your chest as you reached over and saw he left without a trace.

It was early and you could just barely see the sun coming up through the window. You went through your morning routine with a slightly subdued pace. Back to your regular hunting life, now. It was a little bittersweet, but you knew it had to happen.

The loud sound of a car caught your attention as you finished getting dressed. Stepping into your boots, you went outside to see Sam and Dean loading up into their beautiful looking car. You whistled.

“Nice ride, hot stuff.” You joked, approaching them with ease. They looked up at you, Dean with a smile and Sam with a soft, appreciative look. “Heading out already? Not even breakfast?”

“We, uh, got a call from our dad.” Dean said, shaking his head. “Gotta catch a lead.”

You nodded firmly. “Gotta do what you gotta do.”

Dean went back inside to triple-check they had their things. Sam approached you slowly, hands in his pockets like he was trying to look smaller than he was. “About last night…”

“We don’t have to talk about it, Sam.” You said quietly. “You were perfect. Don’t doubt that.” Slowly, you reached up to cup his face. “And you let me know if you ever need anything.”

He nodded. “Thanks, Y/N. I will.”

When Dean stepped back out, the Winchesters were officially leaving. You gave them both a side-hug before they got into their car, which made things feel more final than they should have. You gave them a wave. “Seeya around, Y/N!” Dean called, as he started to pull out of the parking spot. Sam waved back at you.

“Bye, boys.” You watched them leave. That empty feeling was in your chest again.

You had a feeling you’d be seeing them soon enough.

#sam winchester x reader #supernatural x reader #supernatural one shot #spn one shot #sam x reader #sam winchester #dean winchester #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #reader insert

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stormyjane7 · 4 months

Text

Darling, Would You Like to Have My Child?

Summary:

Astarion finds out he can actually have children. Would you agree to bear them?

TW: Breeding Oral Sex, Sex Vaginal, Sex,Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Smut I've been busy over on Ao3 but I forget to bring it over here! So I'm catching up. Enjoy!

Read On Ao3

Before the death of your former master, you would have never been able to entertain the thought of having a true lover. You only had fleeting nights of so called passion before bringing your victim before him to kill. Now that he was dead, the netherbrain almost gone, you start to think of the future and what that meant for you.

You think about one recent night on your adventure that you had with her. You knew in that moment that you would fight for this love that had bloomed on the battlefield.

She stops you before you lean in to bite into a new spot along their shoulder. You always tried to take new spots not to mar their beautiful skin.

“Astarion,” She whimpers out, “You can bite in the same spot. I want to wear your mark. To show the world I’m yours.”

You smile at how much she had worked her way into your cold, dead heart and gave you life again. Because of this, tonight, you wanted to get started on the next stage of your new life. You had rented out a private room at an inn that your other companions were not at. A place that would allow for each room to be cast in silence so no sound could break through the walls. It was perfect.

You had set the room up before bringing Tav over. On a table you put potions, stored blood bottles, few scrolls of lessor restoration, and a few books you were going to show them to get your idea across easier. You were nervous about a possible rejection, but you’d still try for having a good night either way. You both deserved it.

When you finally bring her in, you make sure to cover her eyes so that it’s a bit of a surprise. You click the silence spell into place after letting her see the room. Her face was beautifully lit from the candles you had going and had a bit of questioning wonder when she eyed the table.

“Just what have you been up to Astarion, my love?”

“Well come over and see.” You lift the book up and hand it over to her. She reads the title ‘The Curse of the Vampyr’ and recognized it as one of the many books found on your journey so far. “I marked a spot in there for you to read.”

She found the tabbed pages easily and started to read outloud.

“We thankfully live in a world where most vampyr kill or turn their victims. If it were not so, many a damphyr would walk this world in the dark shadows of life. Any vampire or spawn can create such a creature. It could walk amongst us with in the light, eat with us, and yet still crave blood at differing times. Our world could crumble if this was allowed.”

She looks up at you with curious eyes. “Does this mean you’re actually able to make someone,...me.., pregnant?”

“It does indeed my dear. You don’t have to lose that desire of having children now it seems.” You grin and wave toward the bed. “Would you like to start trying? I would love nothing more than to see how beautiful you are carrying my child.”

Even in the candle light you can see how she flushes from head to toe. Her heart is racing and a small smell of her arousal hits your nose. You walk toward her to pull her close to you. “Just think of the little pitter patter of feet in the morning running to us. How they would call out to you for love and comfort. Your beauty as a mother would know no bounds, my sweet.”

She sets the book down on the table and looks at the other items there. You can tell she’s contemplating all options laid before her.

“We still have tadpoles to contend with. Do you think I’d be okay?”

“If you were to get pregnant now, just know I would do everything in my power to protect you. I am also sure our friends would do the same. They love you almost as much as I do.”

She closes her eyes, again weighing this as thoroughly as she can. I can see the delight in them when she finally opens again.

“Well, we can certainly try! Even if nothing sticks tonight the practice will be fun.”

With her words of consent, you scoop her up in your arms with a squeak from her and take her over to the bed. You laid her down gently and started removing your shirt. You then slowly unbutton her blouse letting it fall open to expose her breast. You reach out with both hands and cup her softness and give each nipple a softly firm pinch. The moan she gives you further hardens your now weeping cock. She lifts herself up so that she can take off her blouse fully and starts to undo the laces to her trousers. You hook your fingers into the waistband of them and her smalls to take them both off in a single motion. She laid back down and looked up at you with so much adoration in her eyes.

“Gods you’re beautiful.” You mutter it like a prayer as if she herself was a goddess.

You kneel on the floor and pull her to the edge of the bed. Hooking her legs over your shoulder you lick the slit in front of you. Her hips buck at the touch, you can tell she’s already wet from desire. Running a finger up and down her you say, “I love how just the small amount can make you wet for me. To see you ache and tremble for me is such a sight.”

Your mouth descends on her clit making her mewl loudly. Slowly you insert your finger into her warmth, lavishing her insides with a come hither motion. You add another finger and continue your ministrations till you feel her come close to the edge of an orgasm. You let go of her clit with a small pop sound.

“Oh gods, please don’t stop!”

“Needy little pup. You’ll get there soon enough but I want you to cum around my cock so that you milk me for all you can.” You remove your trousers and smalls fast as you too were inpatient. Your cock is glistening with precum. With her still on the bed you walk forward and pull her legs around you, with a free hand you stroke your own cock and slide it up and down in her slick. You make sure to rub her clit with the tip, making her trash under you.

Before she can say anything to hurry you along, you slowly push into her. Her head falls back as you push all the way til your hips are meeting hers. You start rolling your hips into her.

“Look at me,” you commanded, “I want you to watch as I thrust into you.” You melt as she looks up at you and then down at where your bodies meet. Her moans start getting louder. You move a hand down to her front, circling her clit.

“That’s it. Be a good girl for me and cum. Take my seed.” A few more thrusts and she was coming undone under you. Her orgasm threw you into your own making you throw your head back with a low growl. You keep pumping till you knew for sure you were done and pull out.

“I can’t say it enough. Gods you’re beautiful. All full of my seed. Look at you, such a beautiful mess.” You scoot her back a bit on the bed and grab a pillow.

“Now we’re gunna put this under your hips. Gotta keep that in there.” You place the pillow under her hips and give her ass a playful smack. “You rest and I’m going to recharge with the potions and blood. I am not going tot to stop fucking you till the morning. You will walk out of here bearing my child if I can do anything to help it.”

You both smile at each other at the thought. To continue the attempts through the night. She will be so full of you. What a lovely and beautiful mess her cunt is going to be when you’re done with her.

#astarion #astarion x reader

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justmystical · 2 months

Text

The Forgotten-5

Pairing: Lucifer x Butterfly!fem!reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel x Star vs the forces of evil

Warnings: Takes place before Hazbin Hotel, Alternative Universe

Navigation |six

You and Eclipsa were currently huddled up together as you listen to your mother's storytelling.

"Monsters are vicious and vile creatures, it's not something you want to be messing with my little ones. They eat our kind,Mewmans" your mother spoke with a serious tone.

"mother but what if some monsters aren't bad ?"Eclipsa voiced out and you look at her with a curious look.

What if...

"believe me little ones, I've been in the Battle field against monsters long enough to know they aren't good."

"let's also not forget...Demons... They reside in underworld.They are wretched, they live for pure darkness and pure evil.If you wondered if they can be good,sorry to disappoint you little ones, they can't be redeemed "

After that night you were terrified to the core,about Monsters and Demons. You didn't want meet any of those creatures again after that.

But Eclipsa being Eclipsa,she tried reassure you that there's nothing to be afraid of... with that you grew up contemplating what to believe...You asked a lot of the people about their perspective about the monster but you left with more negativity about them.

It only got worse when...

You were happily waiting for your mother near the Palace Gates with your sister and Father...

"I'm thrilled that mother is finally going home!"You shook your sister and she almost stumbled forward.

"n/n let go of poor Eclipse,she looks like she about her balance"Your Father scolded you and you just gave a nervous laugh.

"but Father I'm just soooo excited!i haven't seen mother in months or is it almost a year?"

Your father just chuckled at your antics,as for Eclipsa she was also happy her mother coming back after the battle, even though they don't have the same vision the still loved her dearly.

You watched as the Knights who's with your Mother during the battle came back... however you noticed someone was missing...

Where's mother?

Mina Loveberry has a grim expression on her face as she bowed infront of you...

You had bad feeling, you don't wanna assume the worst,you knew your mother was the bestest Warrior out there.

"I'm sorry your highnesses..."

No...

"Queen Solaria was unfortunately killed during the battle..."

Eclipsa gasped and your father remained silent...

"no...your lying!"everyone looked at you.

"she promised she'll come back!she promised! please! I beg you! Tell me it's a joke"Mina was disappointed in herself that she couldn't save her Queen and even telling the royal family in adding salt to the wound.

"I'm sorry..." It was all she said until you felt tears fall down from your eyes,you ran as fast as you can and didn't even looked back.

You were currently in your bed , currently staring at the wall, you haven't gone out of your room in days.

Since finding out Lucifer is a Demon you haven't gone out the Palace since. No point of going out now.

You only go out if you had to eat and have magic lessons bur Glossaryck stopped giving lessons because he said:

"you look like you some time to yourself and i also do want to blast with magic spells...."

You been accidentally hitting him because you were to out of focus,the reveal dug up some memories...

Keekee walked up to the side of the bed you were currently facing, she has the portal scissors on her mouth. Keekee knew what you were truly feeling...

"i don't want to see him Keekee...never..."you rolled to the other side and tried to ignore her.

She went infront of you again trying to convince you.

"KeeKee i said NO!!" You stood up and you yelled at her , Keekee's Ears flattened.

You noticed this and instantly felt guilty.... you never shout at Keekee,she only wanted to help...

"I'm sorry..."you flopped back to your bed and pulled the covers over your whole body.

You didn't noticed that the Plants in your room withered at your outburst.

It was the next day ,you were going to eat breakfast with your sister and her husband Shastacan.

great…

He was a selfish man,and a narcissistic idiot...

Once you reached the dinning area,you saw Eclipsa with a weak smile while Shastacan has huge grin

You raised a brow and Eclipsa just waved nervously.

"what's got happy this morning?"you asked as you sat down and your started to eat your breakfast.

"well... it appears we were blessed by the gods above"you looked confused at Shastacan as you drank your drink.

"Eclipsa has been experiencing morning sickness and appears there's will be heir born" with that you spar your drink.

"ECLIPSA'S PREGNANT?!?"

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x you #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel keekee #x reader #eclipsa butterfly #star vs the forces of evil

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annaphoenix1994 · 9 months

Text

You're My Heaven

Masterlist

After knowing Simon for eight years, you two almost fell into a romantic relationship. But given the risks involved as well as Simon's deep fear of losing you, you two mutually agreed to stay close friends. His feelings never foundered for you and neither did yours. Unfortunately, it took your fatality to make Simon realize that he wished to take the risk of having you as his lover instead of having to tell you he loved you before you died.

Author's note: This is nothing close to romantic, unfortunately. I've been very depressed for the past few weeks and I felt like writing about something sad may help me overcome this. Believe me, I cried when I finished this and while I was composing this, so I'm sorry in advance.

This prompt is also heavily inspired by the show 1883 and if anyone has watched it, you can picture exactly how emotional this will be. If you haven't, I highly suggest you check it out! You can watch it on Paramount+ or if you don't want to pay for a membership (like me), you can watch it for free on myflixer.vc.

I'm sorry for breaking y'all's hearts! I've cried every single time I've opened this page to edit it!

Eight years.

Eight longs years you've been incorporated with what was now Task Force 141. Having many operations under your belt, another accomplishment to you was being able to know Ghost - Simon - on a personal level, more personal than even his closest comrades have.

Of course, your relationship was simply platonic. At one point, you both had expressed your emotions between each other, but given Simon's deep fear of losing someone he loves for having experienced it before, you both agreed to stay close in a platonic way versus a romantic way on mutual terms.

He couldn't lie, he always was immensely attracted to you - how you always seemed to be his own personal beacon for emotional and physical support whenever he needed it.

Just like he was for you.

Outside of the military, you unfortunately had nobody waiting for you at home. No family, no close friends, no partner, nothing.

A part of Simon wondered if that's why you stayed in the military for so long as your comrades, especially him, became a sort of comfort for you that you both knew you didn't have when you were on leave. This knowledge killed him the second year he knew you, leading him to eventually finding himself taking you out to places to help fill the void on your loneliness while you both were on leave.

He wanted to have you as his life partner so bad, but due to his dark history at no fault of his own, he couldn't bear the thought of losing you to one of his enemies, even though the likeliness of it happening again was slim to none.

But he figured that if he could keep you as a close friend, you'd be safe to be in his personal life without having that superior personal connection like lovers would.

Even though you two occasionally did things as lovers, but nobody else needed to know that. These acts included gift-giving on birthdays (yes, Simon eventually unveiled a piece of his private life by telling you his birthday), holidays, and randomly. Simon was the type to get you a gift while on leave by simply seeing something he thought you'd like, even going as far as getting you flowers when you were lonely. You'd go to a movie together every now and then, went to cafes together, and just simply would be in each other's presence.

There was no denying that it was lovely.

Everything seemed euphoric...

Until you had gotten stabbed by an enemy with a filth-inducing and rusted blade, tearing into your liver like a scorched knife to a brick of butter.

It was completely unexpected to you as the fight was not as close as you'd expect. Adrenaline kept the pain away as the blade was fully sheathed inside of you, keeping your fight with your enemy until Soap had come to your rescue as Ghost was on his way from overwatch.

A mission gone wrong and not accordingly to plan.

"Fuck," You groaned, looking down to see the knife still sheathed into your side, cupping your hands around the handle as the adrenaline wore off.

"Don't-" Soap blurted, stopping you from pulling out the knife. "Don't pull it out. Price, we need evac immediately. Have a medic on site."

"Copy that, Sergeant. Are you injured?"

"No, Y/N is." He breathed a reply, knowing that Ghost was going to be livid once he found out you were injured again, not that it hasn't happened before, just that he wouldn't know the extent of your injuries until he was able to see you.

"Sitrep?"

"Ghost, stay on overwatch for enemy activity until this dies over," Price answered. "The Sergeant and I will get her to the exfil site. Sergeant Garrick will accompany you on overwatch."

"Yes, sir."

After nightfall, Ghost and Gaz returned to their temporary safe haven for the next few weeks - a base nowhere near civilization, something that could be viewed as both a sanctuary and hell on earth.

In your case, this was hell on earth for you.

"Ghost, Gaz," Price called from the nearby tent. "A word on recon?"

"It's all clear, sir," Gaz replied, nodding. "No enemy movement detected after you left."

"Good. Ghost, come with me."

Simon heaved a breath, knowing that the look in his Captain's eyes was nothing but pleasant. "How is she?" He questioned.

"Medic removed the blade..." Price answered, dread coating his voice.

"That's not what I asked, Price."

"She's stable, for now. The nurse reported a slight fever and has her on an IV drip now, but he can't get the medication he needs from a doctor for another week."

"So, what does this mean?"

"I-I don't know, Simon-"

"Can I see it? The blade?"

Price nodded as he escorted Ghost towards the medical tent, entering to frown at the sight of you on the bed, eyes lazily open while your aching body lay on the bed. "How're you feeling?" He spoke softly at you, standing next to the bed and curling his gloved index finger against the top of your hand.

"It doesn't hurt," You replied, reassuring him of a soft smile - a smile he grew to adore with how your dimples caved in on your cheeks and your innocent eyes peering up at him - a look on your face that made his heart swell at the sight alone. "Not at all."

"Still on the adrenaline high, love," He breathed a chuckle as his eyes moved down to where your wound was, exhaling a deep breath through his nose at the realization and needed to urgently seek for reassurance - reassurance from anyone but you right now. "Excuse me."

Exiting the tent, Simon laid eyes on Soap who had been eating the last of his MRE, "Sergeant."

"L.T?"

"I need to ask you something."

"Sure."

"How bad was it?"

Soap frowned, "Bad enough. The nurse got the blade out and cauterized it, but without the proper medicine we need with the doctor, I don't know how long her liver can take it-"

"Her liver?" Ghost scoffed, refusing to accept the fatal fact.

"With as close as that blade was, we're sure it hit one way or the other," Soap frowned, shaking his head. "I just hope that surgeon can get here fast."

"What's his status?"

"We don't know yet. The nurse is still waiting on him to signal back-"

"Why can't he call?"

"We're remote. You know this. Off the grid unfortunately. We have to use what we got."

Ghost shook his head, still refusing to believe what he had just heard as he turned on his heel to lay his own eyes on the blade itself, only to meet Price halfway as he held the weapon of discussion in his hand. "Let me see it."

He frowned, opening his hand to reveal the knife that will fatally take your life.

And in this case, you don't have the luxury of flying to a hospital. The base is off the grid, which had its benefits, but nothing prepared anyone for this. A helicopter had to be signaled in by flares - and that's if the helicopter was within range to see the signal. Comms barely could be understood, and emails/phone signal was unheard of since the team arrived.

With limited flares on the base, your death was slowly on the horizon and your clock was ticking out, but you just didn't know it yet.

But God, Simon did. Along with the rest of the team.

They just didn't have the heart to tell you.

Your eyes held a life in them that they wished they could see, your smile held a vibrance that they kept close and dear to their hearts, your laugh brought them so much joy, even if your laugh distracted yourself from your own depression.

"It's filthy, Simon." Price frowned, handing the Lieutenant the knife in question.

"But she's young. Soap said they got it out quick. She's so strong." He replied in denial.

He didn't want to believe it.

Simon bowed his head, shaking it subtly, "She's going to die, isn't she?"

"Don't think that way, Simon-"

"I'm a simple man, Price. I'm through being delusional."

The Captain sighed through his nostrils, "I don't know how long she has. We have to wait until we can hear for an air lift and get her to a hospital. She doesn't have a fever now, but if she develops a fever and we can't get any help, I would guess maybe... a week."

"A bloody week," Simon grumbled. "Alright."

Price knew that there was more than just a friendship going on. Perhaps what he would call a "mutual understanding of emotions."

Either way, Price knew that Simon had very strong feelings towards you just like you did for him.

Price hesitated before he put his palm on the Lieutenant's shoulder, doing his best to comfort him in what was to come, "I have faith in her recovery, Simon. She's young and so strong-"

"And she's the light of my life, Price. She fills a void in my soul that I didn't know I had," Ghost replied, his voice low as his heart broken. If it wouldn't have been Price he was talking to, he would have never admitted that you meant so much to him without any hesitation. "She... She's going to die."

"Don't you dare, Simon-"

"She's going to die and it's going to tear me apart," He replied, his heart broken but his voice firm. Price could see it in his eyes that if he was alone, they would be full of tears, but instead, his brown irises were surrounded by a light shade of pink. "And if I don't accept it now, she's going to die in some hospital with some doctor doping her up until she can't see straight because it'll be too late. And I would have robbed her. She needs to see every sunset and sunrise with those big dreamer eyes."

"And what should we do when she starts asking how everything is looking?" Price scoffed.

"We will lie to her and tell her she is fine. I need to let her look at this world the way she does, no matter how cruel it is."

Price bowed his head and cleared his throat, fighting back tears of his own. He saw you as a daughter of his and was there from the very beginning - admiring how you were the only one who was able to break Ghost of his attitude, how he was never as stern with you as he was the others, how he always seemed to be somewhere alongside you until you got your bearings to take actions on your own, how he taught you how to fight better, and how he even taught you how to make a tea that suited your taste just so he could have an excuse to have you join him for a cup in the morning. Although Simon would always deny it when Price asked, the Captain knew that his best Lieutenant was very much in love.

And he even gave him permission to seek you in romantic interest, as long as he kept it under wraps to avoid altering your careers.

"Then what're you going to do?"

"Where we bury her is where I stay, but not here. She needs to be where I know I can visit and just be some mound of dirt in the middle of this place."

"I'll find a place-"

"No, I need to find a place. By the grace of God, I will find a place."

The Captain nodded, "I'll leave you to take things how you want, Simon. Just remember one thing,"

"What's that?"

"Don't ever be too late to tell her how you feel. It wouldn't be fair to her to forever wonder where you two stood."

Ghost nodded, watching Price walk away before he made his way into the tent to sit by your bedside.

"Leave it to me to get myself stabbed in a gunfight." You giggled, watching his gaze strike into you before sitting down on the nearby chair.

"Yeah," He sighed. "You have an act for getting yourself in trouble."

"You always tell me that." You scoffed.

"Do I need to remind you how you had to call me to bail you out of jail for getting into a fight at the market?" You could tell he was arching his brow under his balaclava.

"You remind me enough," You rolled your eyes. "You weren't there, so you don't know the whole story!"

"I know plenty, love. What do you want to eat?"

"Oh, do I get to choose a four course meal? I need to get injured more often."

"Sure, you have three excellent choices of MRE's. You can choose from chicken alfredo, spaghetti and meatballs, and chicken soup. I'll even be nice and offer you my beef stew." He scoffed, his heart swelling once he had heard you laugh at his sarcasm.

I'll miss your laugh.

"And I'll be nice and let you keep your beef stew and just have chicken soup. It always makes me feel better."

"Aren't you a sweetheart. Would you rather try to eat now or before you go to sleep?"

"I'm feeling pretty tired. I think I'd rather try to eat now so that I fall asleep on a full stomach."

"You got it, love. I'll be back. Care to have someone to eat with?"

"You... You've never eaten with me before while on duty?" You furrowed your brows, suddenly confused. Even when you have gotten hurt in the past, Ghost never sat alongside you while you were in the medic's tent.

Ever.

You watched him huff, "I could've lost you. I wasn't there to keep it from happening. I just... realize that it could've happened at any moment and I don't want to take it for granted."

He was waiting for you to respond, growing uncomfortable at how you stared deeply into his eyes, knowing you were searching for a lie. But thanks to his balaclava, he was able to conceal his true expression behind the nylon and harden his gaze to make it look like he was being honest with you, which is what you'd known him for, but there was something in his eyes that you couldn't quite pinpoint and it nearly drove you to ask him what he was hiding from you.

"Okay," You smiled weakly. "Well, I won't be going anywhere anytime soon."

Once Simon returned, he held two MRE's and two bottles of water in his hands, setting them on the side table before helping you sit up. "Still feeling ill?"

"I feel like I might be getting a fever," You breathed. "My head hurts and I'm burning up."

"That comes with the territory, love," He assured you, his heart breaking at the worrisome condition that began to progress. "You'll feel overheated after a stab wound."

"I'm sure you have a lot of experience in that."

"You should know I do," He breathed a chuckle while his right hand splayed between your shoulder blades while the other let you grab it to stabilize yourself while he helped you sit up in the bed. "Been in your position many times."

"And you still never took off that damn mask."

"Know me so well."

I know you too well, Simon, you thought. When I looked into your eyes, I saw your worry. I saw how you desperately tried to keep a straight face behind that mask, but I've grown to know your eyes - the window to your soul - and I could see that your soul was somehow more broken than I remembered. Like you were already mourning me, looking at me like you knew it was coming. Maybe I'm overthinking like you always say, but the velocity of my injury is nowhere near as simple. You knew stab wounds and their effects better than any medic after being stabbed as many times as you have. You knew something I didn't, but a part of me was too scared to ask.

"You sore?"

"Very," You sighed. "Will it hurt this bad tomorrow?"

"The next day is always the worst."

"What about the day after?"

"That part's a mystery."

Four days.

Those four days were heated for you as you had developed a fever through the forty-degree weather of the rugged terrain of Alberta.

"Can you take me to the creek?" You asked, your voice hoarse with beads of sweat along your forehead and brow, your skin hot to the touch when Simon removed his glove to press the back of his hand to your forehead.

"If you're thirsty, I can go get you some water-"

"No, Simon," You shook your head. "I'm burning up and I want to lay in the water."

"Love, it's forty degrees outside and it's only noon. You'll get sicker-"

"No, it'll stop the bleeding," You breathed, realizing that your health was deteriorating by the horrible gift of time. "My people would do this to their tribe when others got sick. It helps with the fever."

"Your people?"

"I'm a descendant of the Crow Tribe close to Paradise Valley, Simon. I've told you this," You breathed a weak laugh. "I thought you didn't forget anything!"

"I don't, love," He assured you, gently wrapping his arm around your waist to help you walk while your arm curved around his shoulder to stabilize yourself. "I remember that story of how you used to mark horses for the relay."

"If only those markings would work on me," You breathed a laugh. "They wouldn't have let me get worse. I just want this fever to go away so I can get better."

"We all do," He frowned behind his balaclava. "But you will. Did you eat what I brought you this morning?"

"Barely."

You whimpered as he helped you to the nearby creek. He saw the blue bags under your eyes but your eyes still held that familiar light he grew to love over time. "Are you sure you want to step foot in this?"

"Yes, Simon."

He nodded before he set the blanket he had brought with him aside on the dry ground before watching you discard your shoes, grasping his hand as he helped you into the shallow water, admiring how you weren't bothered with the temperature of the water as he winced at the sensation of it seeping through his boots. "Help me lay down?"

"You're crazy, love," He shook his head, thinking that you only wanted to soak your feet into the water. "Are you sure?"

"My people have done this for hundreds of years," You scoffed. "I'll soak in here until I can stop the bleeding, then I'll go into the tent and start to make steam."

"Alright, just tell me what I need to do."

"Help me lay down and just keep me from floating away, okay?"

He smirked behind his balaclava, "You won't float away anywhere on my watch."

"Copy that."

Your lip quivered as you lay in the freezing water, doing your best to relax and focus on steady breathing to lower your body temperature as well as stopping the bleeding that began to progress over the last couple of days. You looked up to see Simon's concerned gaze down on you before you lifted up your shirt to show the wound that would soon be responsible for taking your life. He continued to stay crouched next to you while you searched his eyes for how he looked at your wound, looking for some type of reassurance from your own doubts.

I feel different now, Simon. I look to you for answers when I don't know them myself. Aside from myself, you've become to be the only person who knows me just as good. And when I looked at your eyes when you looked at my wound, I saw nothing. I saw no sign of relief nor worry. It was blank. You watched the blood drain from my liver and had no words of reassurance that I was looking for, but yet still told me that I was going to get better. My soul then felt stripped away from my body, like it had been loose and disconnected since it happened. I then looked up at the sky and somehow felt that I was back in my tribe from a hundred years ago. I studied into your eyes, Simon - looked deep into them. The more I looked, the more I saw what I wouldn't expect. I saw fear in your eyes.

That's when I knew...

I was going to die.

After fifteen minutes, you decided that you wanted to get out and begin making your steam in the confines of your tent. After silently whispering a native prayer, you were unaware that Simon's heart broke every time he heard a weak whimper leave your lips.

"You know what I'm afraid of the most about dying? It's being forgotten in some grave or on the side of a hillside somewhere."

"Nobody is going to forget you, Y/N," He corrected. "And you're not dying."

"You look at me like I'm dying."

"I look at you for what you are, love. You're the most important thing to me on this planet and it comes with a lot of worry just in case you haven't noticed."

Once he had helped you lay down, he let you be alone like you had requested once the steam began to grow, gently laying a blanket over your shoulders before he assured you that he would be outside by the fire, taking some time for himself.

He listened closely for any signs of distress, occasionally hearing a native prayer every few minutes.

"How is she?" Price asked as he and Soap met him to offer any comfort for their comrade.

Ghost shook his head at them, "There's swelling in her liver. It either heals or it fails. Any word on that bird?"

"We've sent signals all week," Price sighed. "We only have four left. We're going to shoot one tonight and another in the morning."

"Roger," Ghost nodded, looking at the ground between his knees. "All I can do is hope and pray... If that even means anything."

"It means something, L.T.," Soap encouraged. "She'll be alright."

"One way or the other."

"Are you sure there's swelling in her liver?"

"I cupped my hand over it, Price," He sighed. "Fresh blood came out of that wound, not old."

Suddenly, their heads turned to look at you stumbling out of your tent, a blanket covering your shoulders, your face drenched with sweat and tears, a thin stream of clear snot leaving your nose as Simon helped you ease down on the log next to him. "Feeling any better?"

You paused, closing your eyes as your face scrunched to produce more tears, "You lied."

He looked straight ahead, nodding and facing the accusation as Price and Soap both decided to dismiss themselves. "I'm sorry." He managed to respond, his heart shattered into a million pieces before he gently wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him as you uncontrollably sobbed.

"I'm dying!"

"I know, love," He closed his eyes, using every ounce of his being to hold back the tears threatening to brink his eyes. "I'm sorry."

You buried your face into his chest that was rid of his tactical vest, smelling his natural scent of musk and sweat while your other arm reached out to grasp his bicep while his left arm clasped the outside of your knee, keeping you close to him as you sobbed. "Can you make me a promise?"

"Anything?" He replied, his voice broken.

"I want to choose a spot."

His eyes closed again at the sound of those words leaving your lips, his heart breaking even more knowing that he had to acknowledge that promise. He owed you that much. "You choose a spot and I'll make sure you get there."

He felt you nod against his chest as you wept, "Why did you lie?" You asked, feeling a certain calmness to his heartbeat.

"I didn't want to rob you of your outlook on life by being hooked up to monitors and being so drugged up until you couldn't see straight. You've outlived me - you've outlived all of us. I'm thirty-two years old and you've out smiled me, out loved me, and certainly outlived me. It would've been selfish of me to have you suffer when you're the least deserving of any sort of suffering. I lied to you to keep that worry off of your shoulders because as much as it breaks my heart to see you like this, it would've hurt more to have to tell you that you were bound for an awful fate when we couldn't get a bird out here to take you to a hospital. I know you, love, and it would've worried you to death."

You sniffled, "I never thought I'd be happy that you were unfair to me."

He barely smirked as his hand snuck up to cradle your head, keeping your face close to his chest as you two sat there for what seemed like hours.

Once you had accepted your demise, you looked through your dry eyes to look up at Price, "Helo saw our flare. They're inbound."

Simon nodded, "It's time to go, love."

You slowly loosened your grip on him as he stood to his feet, offering you his hand while Price gladly stood on the other side of you, letting you use them as a crutch as they escorted you to the medic's tent, gently setting you in a provided wheelchair to help ease your pain. You didn't see it, but a tear slipped from Simon's eye as he grabbed your small duffel bag that contained every personal item you were allowed to carry with you on your deployment.

He looked down at you to ensure your blanket was still snug around your shoulders as he began to push you towards the small tarmac big enough for a single helicopter. Your eyes filled with fresh tears when you saw Soap and Gaz waiting for you.

To tell you goodbye.

"Y/N, it was a bloody good time being by your side." Gaz forced a smile, his heart breaking too once he saw your condition had gotten worse.

"I can't remember a sunset I've seen that's been as pretty as you," Soap teased, knowing it always got under Simon's skin once he learned that he wasn't the only one to find you attractive when you first met. "You'll always be the one that got away."

"Johnny, you gotta be pretty damn good looking to think the one you never had got away from you." You giggled, making he and Gaz laugh.

"Always got the jokes, I see."

"Go back to Scotland, you pretty son of a bitch."

"Aye."

They both pat your shoulder as you passed by, their touch lingering just a bit more as they realized it was the last time they'd see you.

"Nikolai, take them where they need to go!" Price shouted from the intense sound of the chopper's blades.

"Yes, sir!"

Both Price and Ghost helped your weak body into the helicopter, Ghost putting on a set of protective hearing muffs.

"It's been a pleasure, sweetheart." Price smiled at you, reaching up to wipe a stray tear from your cheek with his gloved thumb.

"Thank you, Price. I'll see you later?"

He knew what this meant, and it broke him entirely to realize her statement. "I'll see you later."

Blinking away his tears, Price took a final glance at you before closing the chopper door. "Love, you need to tell me where we're going so I can tell him."

"Paradise." You smiled weakly, knowing exactly that Simon would know where you were meaning.

Paradise Valley - a home you had purchased years ago to stay frequently every other year or so. A place to soon call a permanent home once your time in the service was over.

A new start.

Turns out, a new start wouldn't be in your near future.

Paradise Valley, Montana

"This is a nice place, love. Shame you never invited me." Simon chuckled as he effortlessly carried you onto the front porch of the house bridal style.

"Well, consider this your invite," You sighed. "Not here, though."

"Where to, then?"

"Out the back. There's a spot there."

He nodded, carrying you through the small house until he reached the backdoor, his eyes widening at the gorgeous scenery before him. "Down there."

He followed where her finger pointed, seeing a small creek that ran through the thick forest. With ease, he carried you there, waiting for you to point to where you wanted to be set down, effortlessly easing you down onto the thickest grass he had seen for late fall in his entire life, laying down beside you and tossing his balaclava to the side.

This was amongst the handful of times you had seen his bare face.

"How's this?" He whispered.

"Perfect," You hummed. "Isn't it beautiful?"

"That it is."

"What's your favorite memory?"

"Don't have many, love," He sighed. "I'd have to think far about a favorite."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"How come you never sang to me?"

"What?" You giggled.

"Don't think I don't remember how you used to sing to Soap when he got a cold last year. I have to admit it now, I wish it was me that was sick just so I could hear it better."

"Well, I also told you that I'd sing at your funeral, but we both see how that turned out."

He squeezed you a bit tighter after that statement, "Please?"

"You'll have to remember what you heard that night, Simon," You giggled. "What about another memory?"

"Probably when you and I saw the elk in Poland. How you told me how your tribe viewed elk and then you told me some story on how they used to refer as horses as elk dogs. I always remembered that for some reason."

"Do you want to know what I used to call a horse?"

"Iichiile," You answered with a weak smile. "I always wondered what Heaven would be like, you know? I always thought it would be something like this: quiet with nothing but the sound of water and trees, maybe a few horses or bison running around and hearing the wolf at night. But sometimes, Heaven can be seen in a person, too. A person who takes away your personal Hell."

He nodded, "I agree."

"Are you comfortable?"

"That's not a concern of mine right now, love."

You sighed, relaxing into his arm that was under your head like a pillow as he lay behind you, his other arm draped over the side of your hip away from your fatal wound, keeping you as close as he could without causing you any pain. "I feel like I'm about to fall asleep."

"Fall asleep, love." He whispered, exhaling shakily through his nose as his thumb rubbed circles against your clothed hip.

A couple of hours later, you two had ended up falling asleep briefly before the evening chill had woken you up. Fluttering your eyes open, they seemed to sparkle once they laid upon a palomino horse grazing on the other side of the creek, its white mane and tail blowing in the soft wind. Once its head rose from the grass, you could have sworn you had seen a red circle on its chest.

War paint meaning "strong heart."

"I know what it is now." You whispered.

"Hm?" Simon replied, his voice low and hoarse.

"I know what it is. Look," You whispered, nodding your head towards the palomino. Simon saw it, grinning as he could agree it was a beautiful sight, but he saw just a normal horse. No war paint, just its magnificent golden coat. "She's not wild, but has a strong heart for grazing alone."

"Do they not usually?"

"No. They're herd animals."

"I didn't know that."

You slowly turned to lay on your back, taking a last look up towards the sky as it was an orange and purple hue that sat comfortably behind the mountains. Briefly, you thought of one of your favorite songs: the fiddle version of Zach Bryan's "Something in the Orange". It fit perfectly.

"You're my Heaven, Simon." You whispered, your eyes beginning to fill with tears as you looked at his bare face.

"You're mine too," He sighed, pressing his forehead against yours, savoring the last bit of your natural warmth, knowing he was going to miss it. "I'll hate myself forever for not making you mine sooner. I could've kept you from this."

"It was meant to happen like this," You assured him. "I've always known I was yours, even though you were always so stubborn-"

"Remember, Simon, don't ever be too late to tell her how you feel. It wouldn't be fair to her to forever wonder where you two stood."

Price's advice rang constantly throughout his mind. Now's the time, Simon.

"I love you."

He watched as a tear fell from your eye, using his hand to wipe it away, "Don't do that, love."

"I love you too," You breathed. "All I ask is that I hope I can leave this life knowing what it was like to kiss you."

"You should know I wasn't going to let that happen," He assured her, moving closer to your face before his lips locked with yours. It was soothing, like it was meant to happen indefinitely. "Where you rest is where I stay."

You nodded slowly, moving your head to receive another kiss from him, wishing that you didn't have to limit how much you wanted to take from him before you went. "What about Manchester?"

"There's nothing left for me there. I'll be here until I can be right next to you. Here is the closest I'll be to Heaven with you in it."

"That's not true, Simon. I'll see you in the valley."

He kissed your temple, "I'll meet you there."

You couldn't help but cry as you moved your head closer to his chest as you continued to lay on your back, his right arm resting softly on your sternum as he cupped your head for a few more minutes. He kept his focus on your heartbeat that he could feel softly against his forearm, dreading the moment he wouldn't feel it anymore. He didn't want this moment to end, even though he felt it would be selfish of him to keep you here, but a part of him knew that you were ready.

And he didn't want you to suffer.

He felt you take a deep breath, his eyes opening immediately as his eyes searched for yours, "I'm not scared, Simon."

"I've never known you to be scared, love-"

His assuring expression fell to a frown when he literally watched the gleam - that gleam that your eyes always held - fade from your eyes. He waited for you to blink, to twitch - something!

He couldn't feel your heartbeat anymore, recalling the last time he felt your heart thud for the last time. He took a deep breath himself, looking up at the sky before a uncontrollable stream of tears left his eyes - tears he never thought he'd spill again after walking in to see his mom, brother, and nephew dead on the living room floor. He buried his face into your neck, feeling what was leftover of your natural warmth for as long as he could until your body turned cold. He smelled your hair - how natural it always was. "I'll meet you there one day. I promise," He sobbed into your skin. "Where you lay is where I stay."

He laid with you until your body became cold, keeping his gaze on the horse that continued to graze across the creek. He then put the pieces together by what he could remember when you'd tell him tribal stories - how a horse would be seen before the death of a native to carry them to Heaven. Or in some tribes, a horse was to be buried with the native to carry them in the afterlife.

He kept rubbing your skin with his thumb until you were completely cold, his brain immediately altering hope when he'd feel your limbs twitch in post-mortem, slowly being brought back to the reality that you weren't coming back. Placing the last kiss - which ended up to be the third - on your forehead, he slowly got up from where he was laying, wrapping your blanket around you while he left to go find a shovel. He knew he had to do this right, but he wanted to honor you the best he could, so he ended up having to make a call.

One Year Later

With a consecutively broken heart, Simon returned to your home with the final suitcase of his belongings along with him to add to the pile of duffel bags and suitcases he had accumulated throughout the last year, having no time to truly put his things away due to his duties. But this year was different - he had completed his last tour and had time to focus on how he would truly honor you. Although he was glad to be done with his tour, he didn't know how he could keep his mind busy in the meantime.

With a sigh, he brought his biggest suitcase into the bedroom that would've been known as ours instead of yours, setting it on the made bed that he had slept in when he missed you, the only blanket being the one you were last clutching to for warmth as your scent was still on it. Putting his best shirts on the hangers, he then opened your closet for the first time, seeing one of your favorite shirts that you had worn to the movies with him that one night in Poland to see the elk with him. He then wondered why you brought it here, but he never had the answer. His eyes filled with fresh tears as he slid your shirts to the far right of the closet, "I'm not removing them, love. Just... Just moving them over."

After the next few hours and many tears later, he had finally finished unpacking his belongings. The cabin was small, yet comfortable. Just perfect, as Simon would say to himself. He had blamed himself every day for your death being his fault.

Maybe if I would've told her I loved her sooner, she would've never been in that fight anyway!

Maybe if I would've been with her that day, I could've shot that bastard before he even got near her!

It should've been me that was stabbed!

I should've died first so that I could finally hear her sing to me!

Like those many quiet evenings he spent at your house, he found himself looking at the creek that flowed alongside your final resting place: under the tree, ten feet away from the river.

Every day, he fought the urge to cry over you again, knowing that it wouldn't get better, but easier every day. But even this, his heart still hurt.

Suddenly, a faint nicker broke him from his thoughts. From the east, the same palomino horse he had seen every time he returned to Montana was in his line of sight. He wanted to keep the horse for himself as he knew the mare was the last animal you ever saw, but he knew that a true Crow Tribe horse would never be broken. Instead, he let the horse roam just like it did before, except he grew to gain the animal's trust over time. Never riding it, he always found himself buying a bag of apples and carrots every time he went to the store when he'd return from a deployment, the horse's treats being the first thing he got before he got food for himself. Just like he'd keep a pack of popcorn and a bottle of your favorite soda in the fridge for when you'd decide to sneak in the middle of the night like you used to in hopes nobody would notice you would cheat on your strict military diet.

Although that same bottle was still in the fridge, he knew you'd never be able to physically be able to enjoy it, but it also brought him a sense of comfort seeing something you'd enjoy, just like he found himself always lingering his gaze on the photos you took during your travels together. The mountains in Switzerland, the grass in Scotland, the elk in Poland...

How I wish I would've let me take a photo of you so I'd have something to remember.

"Staying out of trouble, yeah?" He spoke calmly to the horse, returning outside with that bag of apples he always promised the mare.

The mare nickered again when he removed an apple from the bag. "You'll have plenty of these from now on. I'm done with my tour," He said, watching the horse bite the apple resting in his palm before he looked at her mane, following the crest of her neck until his eyes stopped at her withers, seeing the knot he had purposely tied in her mane. A "fairy knot" as folklore called it, but he purposely tied a knot in the mare's thick mane on both sides of her neck, making it as a sort of handle for you to hold onto for when the mare carried you to Heaven. To some, it was silly, but to him, it meant everything.

"Awáxe," He said, nodding to himself in approval after studying the word for God knows how long until he got it right. "That's your name now. You deserve a name after the good you've done for me."

The name in Crow (Apsáalooke), your ancestral tribe, meant "Heaven."

#simonghostriley #simonriley #simon riley #simon ghost riley #call of duty #simon riley x oc #callofduty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x female reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x y/n #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #ghost mw2 #ghost cod

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unseededtoast · 2 months

Text

Turtle Doves | Joel Miller

Part Seven

Chapter Directory

Series Summary: In which two broken souls connect so deeply, that if one should perish, the other would surely die of a broken heart. (slow burn, timeline changes. After TLOU1, before TLOU2, assumed knowledge of infected, uses elements from both show and game)

Series Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, death, and sexual content.

Also cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. Link to my masterlist for everything else I’ve posted!

"When they return, I'll be waiting for them."

The eerie silence of the night amplifies every little noise. Joel managed to fall asleep about an hour ago, and each time he moves or readjusts, fear strikes me. For some reason, my mind is convinced that more infected are in here, when I know they're not. If they were, they would have made themselves known by now.

Looking back out of the window, I readjust the way I'm sitting because my legs have gone numb. My eyes burn from forcing myself to stay awake, but each time I close my eyes I'm haunted by images of the dead children. I tap my fingertips on the floor as I keep close eye on the horizon, looking for anything to signify life. My chest rises and falls dramatically as I sigh in frustration and disappointment.

Standing from the ground, I pace around the small corner I've confined myself to for Joel's comfort. I knew that he'd never let himself be lulled to sleep if I stayed close, he seems to be well guarded and generally untrusting. So I was surprised when I glanced over and saw his eyes closed and head leaned against the wall a few hours ago. Only the muffled sound of my boots hitting the floor can be heard, and I'm sure it's not loud enough to wake him.

My mind begins working through different scenarios once more. Like what is my next move if the killers don't start a fire tonight? How am I going to determine which way to go? I can't just guess at it, that would be a massive waste of time and would put me in unnecessary danger. My eyes drift back to the large windows on the wall, wishing and hoping that I'd finally see something. Each time I look and see nothing, a small part of my strong resolve dissolves.

Yawning, I find my fingers fiddling with my necklace, trying to keep myself inspired to stay here and see this through instead of feeding into my disappointment and going back to the QZ.

"Why don't we trade off?" Joel's voice startles me. My body jumps involuntarily at the unexpected sound and I look over to him, the moonlight illuminating half of his face. Once my heartbeat has settled to a semi-regular pace, I shake my head,

"No that's okay. You get more sleep, I'll be just fine." My voice is rough from staying silent for so long. Joel looks out the window.

"You haven't slept all night. You really think you can keep goin' like this?" His voice is deep and quiet, his dark eyes meet mine through the shadows. A part of me knows he's right, I can't keep functioning at my fullest capacity with limited sleep.

"I'm gonna have to." I say, my words betraying what I know is right. For some reason, I know I would feel bad if I took him up on his offer. This isn't his fight, he shouldn't have to stay awake for my sake. He shakes his head,

"You say that 'til you're face to face with death because your judgment is impaired and you make a simple mistake." It almost sounds like he's speaking from experience. I walk closer to him so that our voices can stay quiet, just in case there is something lurking around in here that we didn't see.

"But that won't be on you. And besides, this was my idea, I can't pass off my responsibility to you. You'll need the rest for your trip." I say, tucking my necklace back underneath my shirt. He stares at me for a long while, like he's trying to figure me out.

"Who are you after?" He asks. I shrug my shoulders,

"I don't know. Well, you heard what I said back at James' place, three kids were killed. They were all assaulted and mutilated. One of them died in my arms. And I had even checked that area not fifteen minutes earlier." My voice trails off as I remember the poor girl's last breaths and her blood smearing on my arms as she grasped at them for help. My gaze finds its way down to the ground and I blink away the tears.

"Who were those kids to you?" He asks, his voice sounding softer than it was a few minutes ago. I pick my eyes back up and stare straight ahead out at the city.

"I didn't know them. But nobody deserves that end, especially not kids." I say and turn my head to look at him. He just nods.

"Sleep. I'll look for them." He says and stands from his position on the ground. I shake my head and cross my arms, prepared to stand my ground on this one. I'm not sure why I'm so concerned with this stranger's wellbeing, but I can't find it in myself to be selfish and accept his offer.

"No it's oka-"

"No. Sleep. You'll need the energy." He doesn't let me finish my sentence before he turns his back on me and goes to look out the window.

I take his spot up against the wall, and lean my head back. If he's so insistent on it, then I guess I shouldn't fight it. He knows his capabilities and it's not my job to take care of him. My eyes close and the silence welcomes me to sleep quickly, maybe I needed this more than I thought.

"Hey." A shove on my shoulder wakes me and my eyes fly open. Quickly, I look around, not recognizing my surroundings. I find Joel's face above me, he's standing right beside me and must have nudged my shoulder with his leg.

"What?" I ask, suddenly alert and aware of where I am. I stand from my spot and follow him over to the window, where he presses a finger to the glass, pointing off in the distance. I follow his finger and see what I've been looking for all night. A plume of black smoke is rising to the sky.

My jaw sets tight as I watch the smoke dissipate in the air. The rising sun is visible on the horizon, I must have been out for a few hours. My arms cross in front of my chest and I make note of where it's coming from, and what streets I need to take to get there. If I leave now, there's a good chance I'll be able to reach them before they abandon their camp.

Turning away from Joel, I grab my backpack that I had put in my corner last night. I shrug it over my shoulders and tighten the straps so that the weight is evenly distributed. My boots feel like they might be getting a touch loose, so I bend down and tighten the laces. Once I'm sure I'm ready to leave, I take a centering breath and go over to Joel and extend a hand.

"Pleasure doing business with you." I say with a small smile, appreciating his willingness to stay with me. He looks down at my hand and back out the window.

"The smoke was to the west, the way I'm headed back home." Is all he says and I awkwardly drop my hand back down to my side. My eyebrows scrunch together, not entirely understanding what he's implying.

"You could go around, might add a mile or two to your trip though." I say, glancing back at the smoke plume. Joel takes a moment to look back out at the smoke before he nods his head and holds his hand out. I take it and give him the firmest handshake I can.

The two of us turn and make our way back down to the street, the sun quickly rising in the sky. If I can pull this off well, I might even be back home before sundown. Off in the distance, I can still see the smoke. Joel and I turn to one another before we part our ways.

"Stay safe out there." I say with a small smile, hoping that his trip is uninterrupted and goes well for him. He's probably got a family waiting for him, and they deserve to have him back. He gives me a curt nod,

"Good luck." Is all he says before we embark on our separate journeys.

I begin walking towards the smoke and try to get into a fighter's mindset. It's not only the people I have to worry about out here on the streets. I push every other thought out of my mind and try to get back into the headspace I had years ago when I had to fight the infected every day on patrols. They're quick and they're strong. So, I have to be quicker and smarter if I want to live. The same goes for dealing with the killers.

My stomach twists the closer I get to the smoke. I don't like that I'm essentially going in blind, who knows how many there are. It would be in my best interest to try and pull this off stealthily. If I can find some sort of vantage point before I get too close to scope out the camp that would be best. It would be really nice if I had a rifle with me, then I could find somewhere up high to camp out and take them out like that. But unfortunately, rifles are very difficult to find nowadays, even more so now that the arms trade has slowed in Boston.

I keep moving forward until I find myself close enough to the smoke where I can smell it. Taking a look around, I find an old store off to the right where I should be able to get a good angle on their camp. Swiftly and quietly, I make my way to the store with no interruptions and carefully step through the broken glass door. I'm careful to keep my footsteps level and close to the ground, so that the glass shards don't make too much noise.

The store looks like it had been ransacked years ago, and is now a mess of tipped shelves and useless products. As I make my way to the back of the store, I look at the discarded items, making sure there's nothing of use that I can grab. But it looks like all that remains are empty boxes and various electronics. Nothing that I can immediately use to my advantage. The back of the store houses the roof access point and I climb the ladder, pushing the entrance open with a small squeak.

Sunlight blinds me as I step out onto the roof and I quickly crouch down so that any wandering eyes won't be able to spot me. From my vantage point, I see a small camp. There's one tent set up and a smoldering fire in the center, billowing white smoke now that it has been put out. Squinting my eyes, I see one person standing around. But nobody else.

My blood runs cold, that has to be the killer. Or at least one of them. Maybe the other one is off patrolling the area or something. If I can go take that one out, then the other should be no problem. However, it all seems too simple, too easy. Something just doesn't feel right to me. But, maybe I'm just overthinking this and it really is going to be this simple.

I wait for a few more minutes before I leave the rooftop, just to be sure nobody else is going to show up. I don't hear anyone in the distance, so I have to guess that the coast is clear, or at least will be clear enough for me to get down there and take down the person I saw.

I stay crouched as I make my way to the camp, grabbing the curved blade out of my belt and holding it tightly in my hand. All of my focus is on staying quiet and making smart moves. My mouth goes dry as I approach the edge of the camp. Hiding behind a building, I peek out to make sure nobody else somehow showed up.

The same person is standing by their tent with their back facing me. It strikes me as odd, but maybe they got their hands on some pills and are too spaced out to know what's going on. Before I leave my cover behind the building, I close my eyes and say a silent prayer with shaky breaths.

My eyes open and I'm focused on one thing only. To kill the man that stands a few feet from me. I turn the corner and take calculated steps, avoiding debris on the ground. My breath is silent, but my heartbeat sounds incredibly loud. The man isn't turning around, he's standing oddly still and it sends a familiar panic through my body.

I freeze in my tracks as my boot steps on a rogue twig, probably meant to fuel the fire but never got used. Within the blink of an eye, the man turns around and it doesn't take me long to register that he's not alive, well, not humanly. The man's reanimated body screams out and runs toward me, hands outreached to grab me.

I dodge his swing and plunge my knife towards his head. The recently-turned man is fast, and my knife only catches a few inches of his throat. I don't have enough time to react to the missed slash before I'm tackled to the ground, the man's teeth inch closer and closer to my neck as I try to fight him off.

My panic somehow makes me more focused, and old maneuvers feel like muscle memory. I bring my knee up and hit the man, throwing off the equilibrium so I can get the upper hand. As he's thrown off balance, I use the momentum from my kick to bring my body above his, my hips straddling his torso. Without thinking, I raise my knife and bring it down into the man's head. His body goes limp and twitches as he dies once again.

Blood splatters my hands and forearms as I pull the knife from the man's skull. I use the man's green shirt to clean my blade and then I stand from the ground, looking down at the corpse. He looks recently turned, maybe a few hours old at this point. Turning around, I look for any more runners that may have been tipped off to the struggle, but find nothing except empty streets and silence.

Taking advantage of an empty camp, I start rummaging around for anything they left behind. I check the man's pockets first, finding nothing but an old cigarette. Next, I search the tent and find an old map shoved underneath the sleeping bag. Unfolding the map, I see several marks on it.

The Boston QZ is circled, and I see a few other cities with the same circle. Other places are marked with the Firefly symbol. Sprinkled throughout the country there are some areas marked with stars. One location is marked with a large 'T'. There's no indication of what these symbols mean, but I can deduce some things from common sense. I can only guess that the circles represent QZ areas and the Firefly symbol is where known Firefly outposts are; that much is fairly obvious. The T might represent where these people came from, but it's all the way out in Nebraska. As for the stars, I don't have the faintest idea.

I fold the map up and put it in my bag to study later once I'm not out in the open. The rest of the tent holds nothing of value to me and so I move out and check the fire. There are scraps of paper in there mixed with twigs. Reaching in, I grab the largest scraps I can find, and see that there's only a few legible words left on each. The one scrap says "eliminate" and the other says "immune".

Moving on and not dwelling on what those words might mean, I tear apart the rest of the camp to look for anything useful. Beside the fire there's a second sleeping bag and I reach my hand down in it, pulling out another piece of paper. These people love writing notes to one another it seems.

The words on the paper are a lot more useful than the scraps I found in the fire. I read it quickly and read it a second time, not believing what I'm seeing. The note is almost like an instruction guide. It tells whoever was here what their mission was. It looks like their mission was to hit all the QZ's in the northeastern part of the United States and kill children between the ages of thirteen and seventeen indiscriminately. It doesn't say why, but on the bottom of the paper the Firefly logo is drawn.

I put the paper in my bag along with the scraps and map. What do the Fireflies have to do with this? Going back to the man's body, I look for the telltale sign of the Fireflies, but see no pendant around the man's neck. But what I do find is the letter 'T' carved into the skin of his chest.

Making sure there's nothing else to find in the camp, I move on so that if someone does come by I'm not caught off guard. I return to the store rooftop to monitor the camp some more. If someone does come back, they'll need to be killed for their involvement as well. Nobody is going to be spared from this group if I can help it.

The sunlight begins fading, and it's becoming abundantly clear to me that nobody is coming back to this camp. Infected probably came by and they scrambled, leaving their friend to his undead fate.

Back on the move, I decide to go west. I know there's more of these people out here and if I'm right about the map, they might be going back to where they came from in Nebraska. And even if they aren't going there now, they will eventually. And when they return, I'll be waiting for them.

#joel miller #joel #joel tlou #joel miller tlou #joel miller x oc #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller the last of us #the last of us #tlou #pedro pascal

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concussed-to-pieces · 7 months

Text

Wolves At The Door; Part Three

Fandom: Resident Evil [Village]

Pairing: Eventual Karl Heisenberg/AFAB!Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

Summary: "No." You whispered, your hold on the knife’s hilt tightening. "No, I-I don't want you to come any nearer."

A/N: FIGHT SCENE FIGHT SCENE! I'd like to thank you all for reading thus far, you're The Best <3 I will be taking a small break after this, due to a vacation. I'll see you all on the 11th! Enjoy!

Tag List: @spoopyredacted @cookiethewriter @amneris21 @topgirl17 @vodkafolie @stargazerofgoldenwords @a-smol-witch @baby-lisuga @clockworkmidnight @calwitch @silver-quinn01 @velvet-paradox @hijackser @mrs-wolfwood @nonstop-haikyuu @mic-sunderland @somethingthatsaysbubbles @fullofmoonsandstars @thirstworldproblemss @karlskitten @imthegreenfairy86 @nitrogennightmare @chunnies

Prelude

Part One

Part Two

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains mentions of blood, canon-typical violence, gratuitous violence and graphic depictions of mental and physical duress. Stay safe!]

"You will regret this." The Duke warned him, his smile vanishing at Heisenberg's demand.

"I don't care," Karl insisted, his fingers still twisted into the larger man's shirt collar. "I can't keep going on like this, not without knowing if I'm-" broken a danger bad person "--if I'm someone who would…do something I shouldn't."

The merchant, for whatever reason, insisted on continuing, "This will not endear you to them, my Lord."

"I don't know why the hell you think I'm doing this for them!" Heisenberg snapped angrily. "I'm tired of not fucking knowing what I'm–I just feel like I'm always waiting, anticipating something awful. I've had enough."

A large finger landed between his brows, the Duke bearing an uncharacteristically serious expression. "I am sorry for this, Lord Heisenberg."

Darkness overcame Karl then, as well as a chill like the sun had been suddenly switched off.

…

"Mr. Duke! It's good to see you. I wasn't sure if you were alright, it's been so long since you've come by!" You exclaimed, still wiping your hands dry with an old towel as you made your way to the fenceline. "You'll have to fill me in."

The Duke, for his part, looked unchanged. A bit more sweaty perhaps, but that could be chalked up to the rigors of just existing in such a unique body. You saw his eyes dart to your houseguest and you got the sudden impression that you may have interrupted something. The large man staunchly denied this when you asked though, his laugh just as jovial as always. Maybe you had misinterpreted the situation?

If looks could kill, however, it seemed the Duke would be quite done for. Karl was glaring holes through the merchant, striking green eyes narrowed to angry slits. That look alone could make anyone nervous!

"I noticed my talismans have gone missing, my dear. Has something happened?" The Duke's inquiry was smooth, almost bland.

"They just started crumbling one day. I guess the elements finally got to them?"

The Duke's expression shifted strangely and once again his eyes darted to Heisenberg. But all he said was, "how curious," then started rummaging in the drawers that framed his corpulent form.

"I'm sorry, I don't have-"

"I told you," the Duke interrupted, his smile a bit sharper, "it's all part of our first-class customer service!" He gestured vaguely with one large hand, placing the small bundles of herbs and flowers down on his thigh. "If nothing else, take these as my thanks for nursing the Lord back to health. He certainly seems a changed man from when we last met." You heard Karl growl, muttering something under his breath that made the Duke chuckle coldly. "Now now, let's not say things we don't mean. I'm being sincere! I am glad you and the Lord Heisenberg are on such good terms. Why, he's almost tame."

…

There had been a great shattering, a terrible rending in his mind the likes of which he had never experienced before. The stress and mania that had driven him doggedly onward collapsed in upon itself after Ethan's final assault, as though the strain of both his transformation and the fight was too much for his body and mind to handle. Karl could just barely recall feeling himself fraying, his soul being torn apart at the seams like he was an ugly garment in the hands of the world's most negligent tailor.

Miranda would love that. Let that bitch pick out every stitch so she could make me into something useful, something controllable.

Maybe it was that bitterness that kept him breathing. Bitter spite and hatred, a parasitic leech just as much as the creature that throbbed uneasily in his gut. Cadou, finally a name for the feeling, the tension, the parasite that clung to his broken body and demanded him to rise, demanded him to fight and kill anew to keep it alive. Karl was exactly what he had feared and suspected all along: a freak.

While the Duke sat there complacent, chuckling, Heisenberg could only seethe internally. The obese merchant finally leaned forward, his smile distinctly oily. "I'd advise the two of you to turn in early for the evening. A storm is coming."

"Thanks for the tip." Heisenberg said through gritted teeth.

"Do you have anything new to show me?" The excitement in your voice threw Karl off a bit, as did the Duke's smirking reply of, "Naturally, my dear!"

Apparently it had been a busy few months for the merchant, because he immediately started pulling out (allegedly) new trinkets to show you. Each item he proudly displayed, however, set Heisenberg more and more on edge. Crystalline objects, fragile and frail, covered in sharp edges and scenting the air lightly with decay. Something about them had that wrongness, that Uncanny Valley sheen, as well as a hideous familiarity.

Finally Karl said faintly, "I'm going to head back in." His head was swimming, mind struggling to sort through lifetimes of memories and it felt like his entire body was throbbing with his pulse. "You two have fun catching up."

"But my Lord-" the Duke protested, extending the protective talismans to Karl with a guileless expression. "-I had hoped you would hang these along the fenceline for me. I would do it myself, of course, but it's been so long since I've had a customer to show my wares." His eyes twinkled with the silent joke; he knew damn well that touching those things was bad news for Karl. Go on, big man, the Duke's smug gaze seemed to say, go on and reveal yourself.

Karl's glare reached a nuclear temperature, his mood rapidly swinging from discomfort to infuriation at being toyed with. This colossal fuck knew exactly what he was capable of! As usual, the Duke's audacity was exclusively outweighed by his mass.

But you were smiling, you looked so excited to see what else the Duke would show you.

Damn it all to hell.

Karl dug around in the pocket of his jacket, pulling out his gloves and gracelessly yanking them on before holding out a hand to take the charms.

The Duke's smile never wavered once.

…

"It is odd, seeing the change in him." The Duke commented, turning a human torso that may have been carved from quartz this way and that to show you how the light caught it. "You certainly did more than your share of work, my dear."

"I don't understand." You replied, a little confused. "It hasn't been too hard. Only issue was keeping bread in the house."

"Can we claim his essence restored by mere gluten?" The Duke fixed you with a look that made you uncomfortable, his normally good-natured expression gone serious. "I doubt that, but I am open to breakthroughs in science."

"Do you mean I helped raise his spirits or something?" When the obese man shook his head, you shrugged. "I haven't really done much except put that gunk that you gave me onto his wounds and endured his company. If anything he's been helping me out! Got to get a few things done that I couldn't manage myself."

"Very curious," the Duke mused, his attention seeming to have moved on to the odd combination of gears and crystals that he was currently showing you. It looked almost like a half-metal heart encased in white crystal and you marveled at the craftsmanship of it. "Lord Heisenberg has allowed himself to be domesticated. The Lady Dimitrescu would have a fit if she were still around."

His words didn't register until a moment later, making your brow furrow. Unfortunately the large merchant didn't appear to be in an expansive mood, whatever further queries you had being easily deflected or outright ignored.

…

Miranda.

Karl tried to focus on something aside from the fact that his entire left hand was going numb.

The constant fury he felt at that self-styled mother's attempted manipulation of him would do, so he began to reminisce. Though his mind was not entirely whole, Heisenberg could still remember his disdain for the haughty woman. She had always looked at him with such blatant calculation in her eyes; he had to commend her for the consistency of that gaze. Karl wondered sometimes if she practiced it in front of the mirror. How his ‘siblings’ had never seen her manipulation…

"Sore loser," his own voice echoed back to him through his memories and he scoffed, yanking the knot tight on the twine. Another charm secure. The little talismans were made of monkshood and nondescript twigs of some evergreen plant, all braided together with a few stalks of what seemed to be wheat and then fashioned into a tidy wreath. The numbness in his hand vanished once he released the charm, now replaced by an unpleasant burning. He could see spidery black tendrils making their way up his arm from beneath the glove, following the path of his veins to spread that burning sensation. Aside from that, though, Karl felt nothing. Was his fury truly slow to come, or did he just not care anymore?

He slowed to a halt, resting his weight on the fence as he stared down at it. He almost wanted to will himself to be upset, get worked up, something for the sake of familiarity. This calm…acceptance, it didn't seem like him. The Duke had said Miranda was 'taken care of'. No doubt Ethan had fistfought the feathery bitch himself.

Dimitrescu, then, Karl decided, she could always piss me off, that colossal cunt. The anger was so faint it was barely annoyance. The weird little doll? Indifference. Moreau. Pity.

Pity?!

Was his throat closing up?! He was either flashing over or having some sort of allergic reaction to the talismans, he reasoned desperately. That was the only explanation for his strange response. Heisenberg pulled away from the fence, taking a few healthy steps backwards. He abruptly felt the hairs raise on the back of his neck and the Lord reached out to grab the maul, realizing at that moment that he had left it by the cart. Come on!

A body crashed into his back and Karl almost toppled, only just managing to brace himself on a fencepost. Sharp teeth grazed his arm, the combined scent of wet dog and iron nearly strong enough to make Heisenberg retch. Without a second thought Karl yanked the charm off the post and jammed his entire fist into the thing's mouth, hearing it start to choke and gag right next to his ear.

The maul arrived, flying through the air like the weapon of some old Norse god. Karl seized it with his free hand, swinging it around to pulverize the…lycan, lycan, shit, he had forgotten. Its skull caved beneath the maul's blunted edge and Heisenberg quickly shoved the body to the side as it twitched its last.

There were more of them. A lot more of them, a pack of mangled humanoids spilling out from beneath the trees to yowl and bay at him. The body at his feet began to crystallize, the familiar scent of death wafting up to greet him like an old friend. Memories started to bleed in at the sides of his vision: dark, wispy vignettes of the man he was, the monster he really was.

I think bare minimum I've done some real bad things.

He had been so desperate for reassurance without even knowing why, groping unlit through the halls of his memories as a stranger. It had been better for a while, what was shoved into the back of his mind to let him play fucking pretend at being human, at this new life with you.

Just like Miranda with her fake little family.

Heisenberg drew himself up to his full height, narrowing his eyes and roaring "shut your fucking holes!", immensely gratified when the cacophony immediately quieted.

Unfortunately, the uneasy silence was then broken by a scream. A scream of his name. And the lycans, obviously sensing Karl's momentary distraction, peeled away to head for the source of the noise.

…

"Karl!" You cried, the terrible din you had heard seconds before still ringing in your ears.

"Oh dear," the Duke remarked blithely, "I may have been too late." He shrugged after a moment, passing you another charm. "Well, I hurried as best as I could." The massive merchant then clicked his tongue once and the seemingly too-small horse began to pull the cart down the road once more. "Good luck, my dear. Remember what I said about the weather!" He called with a wave.

"You've gotta' be kidding me!" You yelled after him incredulously, the talisman clutched tightly in your grasp. All you heard in reply was faint chuckling. You gritted your teeth, turning on your heel. "Karl!" You shouted again, starting across the yard. You could hear muffled yowling coming from behind the cabin, out past the back fenceline, so with your heart in your throat you carried onward. You hoped and prayed it was just a bobcat that Karl had spooked, you're overreacting, everything is fine. You did make a brief pit stop to pick up your kindling knife from the basket on the porch, staunchly refusing to think about what you could possibly need it for.

Upon turning the corner of the house, however, you came face to face with some…thing, some awful thing with sharp teeth and a hunched humanoid body. You froze and so did it, before it bared its filthy, blackened maw and snarled at you.

Oh, it's going to kill me. The thought was so certain it almost surprised you. Really, what else could happen? Fuck, it's going to kill me. You backed away, holding the knife in front of you in a desperate bid to keep the creature at bay. For some reason it actually seemed to be working, the weird wolf-man snapping its teeth at the air in evident frustration. Well, it was either that or the Duke's charm that you had slipped around your wrist, but you weren't about to start questioning your luck.

A projectile whipped past your head from behind you, the mass of it disturbing the air enough to emit a faint whistle. It was the maul, its dull blade slamming into the face of the lycan and bending it nearly in half before it collapsed like a deflating balloon.

"You stay the hell away from them, you mangy rat!" Karl spat, his gaze full of fury as he rounded the house coming from the other direction. It may not have been aimed at you, but his rage was still absolutely terrifying to witness. Your knees began to tremble, threatening to dump you onto the ground. Heisenberg suddenly seemed larger than life and extremely dangerous, voice booming and eyes ablaze with a malice you had never seen. The man tore the maul free with a sickening crunch, shaking some of the gore off. "You alright?"

You realized he was addressing you, still coming closer at that too-fast pace and you floundered to nod, opening your mouth to say something, yes I'm fine and don't come near me you're scaring me and what's going on. No words came out, though. When had he gotten so big? It was as though someone else had taken over his body, someone self-assured, someone…

Was this how he had been before?

Karl stopped dead two feet away, the man huffing out an irritated breath. "Oh, you've got one of those charms." He slung the maul over one shoulder, holding out a gloved hand. "Here, give it so I can close the loop on this fence." There were holes torn in the glove, ragged punctures. Bite marks.

"No." You whispered, your hold on the knife’s hilt tightening. "No, I-I don't want you to come any nearer." What did the Duke do to him?

Karl's brow furrowed, but he soldered on, reasoning, "There's more of the freaks out there, sugar. We don't have the whole fence covered, I need that last charm."

"Please, don't…look, I don't want to hurt you and you're scaring me right now." You got the feeling the blade you had was about as threatening as a butter knife to the large man, but you held firm.

Cornered dogs bite. He had called you sugar, his voice low and urgent. Surely it was still him in there if he was using the silly pet name he had decided upon for you. This was all so confusing.

"The lycans don't give a shit about whether you're scared, sugar! They aren't gonna' wait around for us to sort things out, they're coming!" Heisenberg snapped roughly, glancing back over his shoulder. "Fuck's sake! I'm not at full bore and if something gets you because I'm out of it, I'd-" He hesitated, then huffed through gritted teeth instead of finishing the sentence. "Alright, fine, I'm not coming any closer, we'll just do it together then. Stay by me. Devil you know, right?" He instructed, that fierce gaze softening a bit. "Nothing will get you while I'm here."

What if you're the thing I'm worried about? you wondered privately.

…

You were looking at him like he was a monster. You were looking at him like he was a horrible, terrible monster, that trashy Bowie knife you used to shave kindling chips clutched in your trembling hands, leveled at his gut. You're scaring me right now.

And Karl couldn't even deny it because holy shit he was, he had been, he might still be. Oh God, no wonder the Duke told him it was an awful idea. He wanted to throw up, but that may have been due to the closeness of the talisman. Anti-mold measures or just another silver bullet in the magazine?

At least now he knew, as crushing as that particular burden of knowledge was. At least he knew. It was oddly freeing to be that self-fulfilling prophecy for once.

You ended up hovering nervously at his elbow, the proximity of the charm a constant, nagging throb at the apex of his spine. But he could keep track of you that way.

"The lycans are wary." Karl informed you, not really sure why he did so. "They know who I am but they're not particularly good listeners."

"Something you have in common." You retorted.

Karl shrugged, feeling his glove slide down his mangled fingers before he tugged it back into place. "I'd like to think I've improved." He glared at the forms he could see surging along the edges of the treeline, brandishing the maul in silent threat. Come on, you rabid little shits.

Not a single one left the safety of the woods, however they did keep up their noise. Howling and shrieking, the pack followed the two of you closely. They're waiting for us to place the last charm, Heisenberg realized, his brow furrowing. They'll strike then before we can get back inside the fenceline.

"I need you to be ready to run once you tack down that last talisman." He muttered out the side of his mouth, relieved when you nodded. "Don't worry about me."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

His laugh was coarse and joyless. He had been a naive idiot to think he even had a chance at any sort of quiet life, but he was more irritated with himself over being so affected by the disappointment. Now was not the time to wish to turn back the clock.

You broke away from him by running ahead, your attention clearly fixed on the section of fencing that lacked an oh-so-familiar charm. Karl watched you slide the talisman off your wrist, and at the same time he could see the pack of lycans appear to muster themselves for a full-scale assault.

Heisenberg's eyes narrowed and the man bolted forward, sending the maul ahead of him as he went. "It needs to go on the outside of the fence! I'll cover you!"

…

You yanked open the gate with single-minded intent, only to see the maul go sailing into the teeming swarm of bodies in front of you, Karl close behind announcing that he would 'cover you'. As you turned to watch him go, a massive lycan broke away from the edge of the pack and headed straight for you, fingers clawing at the dirt for traction.

You fumbled to attach the charm, hanging it on the rusted nail still in the fence post and then smashing the top of the nail with the butt of your knife to fold it over onto itself. Mission accomplished, you rushed to get back inside the safety of the fenceline, but it was too late. A paw-like hand caught your ankle, tripping you up and causing you to strike your head hard on the gate.

The world swam in front of your eyes, a combination of reflex tears and being dragged along the ground by your leg at a dizzying pace. You began to struggle, kicking desperately at the face of the creature in an effort to free yourself from its clutches. The lycan dropped your leg, choosing instead to bat aside the kicks you aimed at it and lunge for your face with a garbled howl.

You didn't even have the time to think and so you slammed your eyes shut, bracing the knife you still held against your body in an effort to at least wound the lycan.

But it didn't come. The weight of the beast on your chest just…vanished, its roar choking off abruptly.

When you dared to open your eyes again, you were greeted by the sight of Karl holding up the lycan by its throat, the man clearly crushing its windpipe. Judging by the way it was thrashing, it didn't have much longer. Heisenberg didn't say a single word, the man simply grunting with effort as he gave the beast a final shake to cleanly snap its neck. He then threw the body down, broadening his stance and squaring his shoulders with a furious grin on his face.

"Fuck off!" He roared at the remaining pack, now significantly thinned and yelping. "You stay the hell away from here, or I'll wipe out every last one of you!" The maul flew through the air and he caught it, swinging it one-handed. It was dripping with some kind of black fluid. "You won't cross that fenceline!"

After a few moments of what seemed to be a snarling back-and-forth with Heisenberg and one another, the surviving creatures sulkily limped back into the woods in defeat. They left nothing behind but crystallized remains of their kin and, as rain slowly started to fall, even those began to dissolve into the soil.

Karl closed the gate, the man slowly latching it with the worn wire twisted around the post.

You were still on the ground, the knife pressed to your chest as you shivered and tried to catch your breath. You couldn't recall another day in your life that you had been so certain about your own death. Somehow all you'd ended up with was a few scrapes on your shin and a tender spot on your head from the gate.

Heisenberg swayed, propping himself up on the fence with one elbow. The maul dropped from his grasp as he panted for air, the man's scarred complexion gone so pale it was nearly green. He tried to say something, but ended up dry heaving instead. After taking a few staggering steps back from the fence, he unceremoniously collapsed onto his side.

You only hesitated momentarily before you scrambled forward, your caution thrown to the wind. It was as if watching him fight had somehow removed whatever threat you had felt before, the notion wholly gone from your mind. It was oxymoronic, but firmly embedded that the two of you were on the same side. He saved you.

The man gazed dully upwards at you or someplace past your shoulder, his breathing coming in sharp, hitchy bursts. "Hurt-" he managed to wheeze, shaking the glove off of his hand to display blackened flesh radiating from a tearing bite wound on the palm. He then gave a thumbs up with the mangled appendage, choking out, "--be okay."

You noticed blood darkening a section of his trousers by his hip and you jerked his tattered coat back, revealing several more wounds. At least two of the lycans had ripped into the back of his thigh, like they were trying to hamstring him. The purpling, bruised bites ran down his leg and there was even a large chunk missing from the top of his boot. You hissed in dismay at the whole scene, feeling nauseous and terrified.

"We need to get you out of the rain," you said finally, your stomach in knots. Karl waved you off while pffting out a breath but you essentially ignored him, pulling his good hand to haul his arm up over your shoulders. "C'mon, use whatever's left of your legs."

The man coughed out a laugh at that, then obliged you to the best of his ability. It was a struggle, but the two of you managed to get him upright. All there was left was the slow trek back to the cabin, and Jesus was it slow. Karl could barely put one foot in front of the other, the man dragging his wounded leg and the maul behind him as he leaned on you, nevermind your own legs still shaking from adrenaline.

"Why did you do that?" You asked finally, blinking the rain out of your eyes.

"Whuh."

"You know what." The only reply you got was silence, followed by a clumsy little pat on the cheek. You supposed you would have to ask later.

…

The fresh talismans gave Karl the sensation of being in the eye of a storm. A maelstrom of energy swirled around the fenceline in a disorienting spiral, but it couldn't touch him in here. The drunken stumbling was more due to the injuries he had sustained, his steps unsteady and head hanging. This weakness was incredible, it was so similar to how he had been right after he had lost to Ethan. Laying there in the dirt with the rain pouring down on him, uncertain of what had just happened, where he was, every shattered breath in his body seeming like it could be his last.

"Come, my Lord. You seem to have fallen ill."

You had said that the Duke was the one who brought him to you for aid. He barely remembered bits and pieces of the ride, only roused to consciousness from pain when he was jostled.

His forehead knocked into yours and he slurred out an apology, realizing you needed him to walk up the porch steps. And walk up them he did, his leg already feeling a little less terrible. Parasite perks, the alliteration tickling him far more than it ought to have. He actually managed to hobble through the doorway unassisted, performing an odd skipping hop to do so and dropping the maul beside the doorframe.

Once inside you collapsed on the couch, your whole body trembling. "Thought I was gonna' die." You finally said. Heisenberg continued to hover awkwardly on one leg, shoring himself up by placing a hand onto one of the ceiling crossbeams as you seemed to gather your thoughts. "I mean I thought that was it, game over. Holy shit, that was terrifying." You looked up at him, radiating incredulity as you asked, "how the hell did you just handle them?"

Karl shrugged, a bad habit he felt he could attribute to you. "It's all I've known for most of my life." It was a garbage explanation for all its truth and he knew that, but you weren't exactly in a fantastic headspace at the moment. Neither was he for that matter, he was still weak and a little queasy. Better to let sleeping dogs lie, let you calm down and regain some peace of mind. Lycans were normal to him, sure, but you'd only seen them in half light and hadn't even seemed to believe they actually existed until today.

You put your face in your hands, exhaling deeply. You then moved to rise but Karl halted you with a hand on your shoulder, and he was silently dismayed at the fact that he could still feel you shaking.

"Stay put." He tried to gentle his tone, make it a little less gruff. "That was a lot. Just rest. You want some water?"

You hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah." You caught his hand before he could turn away, seeming confused. "How are you even walking? Your leg was-" "Something in me is real invested in keeping my body in one piece." Karl patted your hand, attempting to smile and failing miserably. "Lemme' get you that drink."

Part Four

#karl heisenberg #lord karl heisenberg #eventual romance #fix it fic #au #resident evil #re 8 #re 8 village #resident evil village #resident evil karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg imagine #re 8 karl heisenberg #slow burn #canon typical violence #gratuitous violence

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smutinlove · 8 months

Text

You were my light (Alternate ending)

Carl Grimes x Reader

Warnings: murder, mentions of blood, angst but fluff at the end

☽ Author's note☾ woohoo i love you @loveforcarl i will literally marry you. this idea was suggested by @loveforcarl so thank you bae <33333

Thank you to everyone who reads this!

( Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5)

≿━༺❀༻━≾

Summary - The daughter of Negan Smith wakes up from what she thought was real but was a dream. She wants to find him. Y/N Smith wants to find Carl Grimes.

❝ Not even they can stop me now Boy, I'll be flying overhead Their heavy words can't bring me down Boy, I've been raised from the dead ❞

❝ If you dance, I'll dance And if you don't, I'll dance anyway Give peace a chance Let the fear you have fall away ❞

❝ It's you, it's you, it's all for you Everything I do I tell you all the time Heaven is a place on earth with you Tell me all the things you wanna do I heard that you like the bad girls Honey, is that true?

≿━༺❀༻━≾

Sweat dripped down your forehead. You woke up panting. "No, no—"

You could not believe it. Everything was just a dream. You did not like Carl Grimes. His father, Rick Grimes, killed your father, Negan Smith. It was unbelievable. You looked around at your surroundings. This was the cabin in your dream.

The mattress was already here when you found the cabin last night. The lantern, however, was yours. And to your left was the creepy rocking chair. There was a fireplace behind you.

"Oh, my God... it—" You were at a loss for words. This was not possible at all. But the dream felt so real. But you and Carl had—

No. Don't be silly. You two did not fuck at all. It was just a dream. But you wanted to find this boy. And that stupidly gorgeous face of his. So, as any rational and reasonable person would do, you packed your bag and started your journey to Alexandria.

If your dream was correct, then the cabin you stayed at was not far from Alexandria. Only... 5 hours away.

And you were going to walk there? Great. I mean, it's not like you could find a working car in the middle of the woods. That's stupid and cliché.

It felt like days had gone by, but it had only been 30 minutes. You were incredibly tired. And the heat didn't help at all. You were almost dying of thirst. Maybe Carl's cum could—

Get those dirty thoughts out of your head, Y/N Smith.

You saw a walker behind you. You cursed under your breath before taking out your small pocket-sized knife and driving it into the skull of the walker.

You continued walking. You felt like you were about to pass out. You barely had food and water, and you felt like you were about to fall any minute now.

≿━༺❀༻━━≾

"Hey, sir!" You called out. It was a man in his 30s; he was digging through his backpack. He didn't seem like he was from Alexandria. His clothes were dirty. "Woah, back away, girlie." He readied his crowbar, thinking you were about to attack until you said, "Chill, dude. I ain't gonna hurt you." You reassured the man.

He scoffed, "Ya sure? You look like trouble."

You laughed, saying, "I'm Y/N, by the way."

"Pierre," he replied.

You walked closer to Pierre and said, "Listen, Pierre—oh, my God!" You slapped your hand on your mouth. He looked at you with a puzzled expression and asked, "What?"

"In-Infected!" You stuttered. The man turned around, and you took the opportunity to jam your knife into his throat. He coughed out blood. "You—" He fell to the ground.

"Rest in peace. Now I'll be taking your shit." You took off his backpack and unzipped it. Pierre didn't need it anyway. He was dead now.

You smiled to yourself when you saw a can of tomatoes, five protein bars that were probably expired, and a bottle of already-boiled water. You grabbed everything and shoved it inside your bag.

You looked down at the dead man. He would turn soon.

But after all, he is just a man. You shrugged and continued with your journey to Alexandria.

Days had not gone by. Maybe a few hours, but not days. It was getting dark soon, and it didn't seem like you would approach Alexandria anytime soon. You remembered from your dream that this road was near Alexandria.

It was near Carl Grimes' home.

Would they be surprised when they saw you? After all, you did run away when Rick slit your father's throat. No one stopped you either. You just ran and ran until you couldn't.

You looked up at the sky; it was almost dark. Which, again, was not good.

You looked around, trying to find the bright light of Alexandria that stood out. But there was nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

You were chasing your dreams, looking for the light, which you could not find. You failed Carl, even if he didn't know it yet. You failed your parents, Lucille and Negan. Hell, you even failed that sweet woman from your dream, whose name was Carol.

No light, no Carl, no mom, no dad, no Carol, no Rick, no Alexandria. Maybe you were going insane. Alexandria had probably fallen. Maybe it was burned to the ground.

All the Alexandrians were dead. Carl, Rick, Carol, Rosita, Daryl, the widow, and King Ezekiel were all dead.

You ran. That's what you did best. Run, run, little girl, for you have nowhere to go.

Alexandria was gone.

Or not. Who knows?

≿━༺❀༻━━≾

There they were. The bright lights of Alexandria. It was not gone. "Hey!" You shouted, hoping for one of the guards to respond.

"Let me in. I am dying out here! You're killing me!" You banged on the gates. You kicked and hell, you even threw your bag at it.

And then they opened. You felt something hard hit your head, and then everything went black.

≿━༺❀༻━━≾

"She's Negan's daughter!" A woman argued. "I don't give a shit! The war is over. Negan is dead." A man argued back. The two kept arguing over and over until they heard a word escape your mouth, "Stop." You groaned.

The two looked at you, two familiar faces. The widow and Rick. "Stop, what? Murderer." The widow spat.

"Maggie, stop!" Rick shouted.

You laughed, "Yeah, Maggie, stop." You taunted. "Alright, that's it you little—"

"Stop! Maggie, control yourself. And while you're at it, leave."

Maggie scoffed, "Why don't you make that murderer—"

"—She wasn't the one holding the bat." He said. And you couldn't believe it, Rick Grimes, was defending you. The man who killed your father was defending you.

You cracked a small smile.

Maggie stormed off. "So, Rick, you were the one who hit me, right?"

He shook his head, "No. It was Michonne. She was on watch." He informed.

You laughed, "Y/N, right?" You nodded. "The people here in Alexandria, they haven't..." he trailed off.

"So they wanna kill me, right?"

"Some do. Some don't even know who you are. But if you want, I can talk to them. And I can give you a place to stay."

"Why, Rick?" You asked. "I killed some of your people, Negan killed Glenn and Abraham. You should hang me or Michonne should have left me for the walkers. I did create a big scene outside." Rick chuckled.

"The world we knew is gone, but keeping our humanity? That's a choice."

You smiled. "It is."

"I'll have Carl escort you to your apartment. And maybe you could get a little tour of Alexandria. I'll tell Carl to come over here, 'kay?"

"Okay."

"Wait," you said. "Yes?"

You sighed, "I...I was wondering if Carol was here. Carol Peletier?"

He shook his head, "I'm sorry. She's out hunting with Daryl. When she's back, I'll tell her you were asking for her, okay?"

You nodded. "Thank you."

≿━༺❀༻━━≾

Carl Grimes. You wondered what he looked like now. Maybe he was a jackass just like in your dream. Oh, Carl Grimes.

Ten minutes later, you heard a knock on the door and immediately sat up. "Hey," Carl smiled warmly. "Hi."

"You alright? Michonne didn't hurt you too badly, did she?" He asked worriedly.

"No," you answered, "I'm fine." Carl grinned, "That's good." Oh, he was gorgeous. He looked even better in person.

You just wanted to kiss his pretty little face. Oh, Carl.

≿━༺❀༻━━≾

He showed you to your apartment. It was near the Grimes family's house. Hey, maybe you could see him shirtless. God, his abs.

Your apartment was beautifully decorated, but Carl was even more beautiful. His handsome face, his eyes, his hair, everything about him was amazing.

It was him. You wanted him so fucking bad.

You took a quick shower and then you looked at your bed. There was a clean pair of jeans and a T-shirt with a note on top that read: 'Hey, just wanted to bring you these. You have a nice ass, by the way.'

You laughed.

≿━༺❀༻━━≾

You were watching Carl leave his house through your window, "Well, hello, leader's son." You smirked. Okay, it may have been you and your dirty thoughts, but you desperately needed that man.

You wanted him to face fuck you until you couldn't breathe, woah, slow down there. You giggled when you saw Carl bending over to pick up something. He sure had a nice ass, that's something.

Now, if you had your phone from 2010, then you would be snapping pictures of that ass twenty times.

Carl turned to look at you and winked.

You blushed and shut your window and fell back onto your bed. That was embarrassing.

≿━༺❀༻━━≾

It had been a month since you'd arrived in Alexandria. And honestly, you were having the time of your life. The sanctuary was very different from Alexandria.

Alexandria was lovely. Its people were happy. You were happy.

You and Carl had also been flirting with each other a lot. You and Carl had also become quite close. You two suck together like glue.

Carl was like heaven. If he danced, you'd dance. If he died, you'd die. If he was bitten by a walker, you'd get yourself bitten. If he left, you'd leave with him. Your mind was always on Carl. He wasn't like heaven as he was already heaven.

And all you had to do was say yes.

If you dance, I'll dance.

Say yes.

"Dear, Carl.... no! That's lame." You groaned. You had been working on writing something for Carl. All your attempts at writing something sweet for him had failed. Carl was different from every other boy. He was kind but wasn't soft. He'd sacrifice everything for you. He'd kill himself so you could live.

It was admirable. He was perfect.

"Look for the light." Lucille Smith said. And you found your light.

You heard the sound of rain outside your window. "Oh, great." You said sarcastically.

You heard knocking. You opened the door and saw Carl who was soaking wet cause of the rain. "Y/N," you smiled, "I—fuck it." He pulled you into a kiss.

You felt his soft lips against yours, he pulled back. "I fucking love you." He said. You kissed his cheek, "I love you too, sweetheart."

You took his hand and led him inside. You shut the door behind you. "So, what's this about me having a nice ass?"

He smirked, "You'll figure it out." He kissed you once again, and you practically melted into his touch.

He was magical. Everything about him was magical. He was your light.

The end.

☽ Author's note☾ UGHHHH SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP WTF WTF AHHHH I ADORE ALL OF YOU SO SO MUCH OMG <3 I'VE NEVER FELT THIS LOVED AAAAAAAAAAAA I LOVE YOU ALL DID Y'ALL NOTICE THE DALE REFERENCE?

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