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xxdragonwriterxx · 3 years

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🔥Wings of Freedom (Part 2)🔥

A/N: Finally got part 2 done! Thank you for your patience with this mini series, I’ve been so busy with school lately and I still have so many drafts that I’ve been trying to publish them evenly so I don’t keep you guys waiting for anything too long. Thank you so much for your support, I love all of you so much and I can’t wait to show you the other stuff I have planned for this blog. I have a few requests on the way, so stay tuned for that, but for now, here is the sequel to Wings of Freedom (finally)!

Part 1 is here if you haven’t read it yet!

🐉Song Recommendation: “Machine” By: MisterWives 🐉

Word Count: ~3.9k

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Levi felt like he was experiencing deja vu as he glanced around the courtroom from where he stood beside Erwin, waiting for Hanji to come back. Only, he felt a lot more nervous. The first time, he had felt nothing but an impatience to get the event started, his eyes hard and cold as he had looked down at an immature, green-eyed brat who could turn into a titan, waiting for his future to be decided as either a useful tool for humanity, or a human experiment to be tortured in a lab. Now, his insides were doing their best impression of a pretzel, churning and twisting until he felt sick with worry. This wasn’t going to be a meeting about some random brat from the streets, this was concerning the fate of the love of his life.

The night she had come back had been bittersweet for both of them. They had spent the night wrapped up together, (Y/N)’s wings out for the first time around Levi, the warm membranes curled around him protectively so he could feel her heartbeat thrumming through his entire body. They had been cuddled close, holding each other like it was the last time they would be able to do so, unsure of what events would unfold the next morning. Both Levi and (Y/N) knew everything was about to change, knew (Y/N)’s fate would be challenged and decided the next day, but it didn’t stop the anxiety from rolling around in his gut, making his stomach give another violent lurch.

“Hey,” Erwin said lowly, placing a hand on Levi’s shoulder when he noticed his friend’s queasy expression, “She’s going to be alright. We will fight for her with everything we’ve got.”

Levi managed a stiff nod in Erwin’s direction, his heart warming at his friend’s support. Although Levi had never doubted his friends, he had been surprised by how supportive and accommodating they had been when Levi had announced (Y/N)’s initial reappearance. They had both expressed their immense relief at her safe return while Hanji worked to heal her bullet wound, keeping her enthusiastic questioning to a minimum at Levi’s insistence.

Levi’s thoughts were cut short by the appearance of said energetic scientist, the tall brunette carefully picking her way through the rows of gathered officers and moving to stand on the other side of Erwin.

“She’s doing okay,” Hanji said before Levi could even open his mouth. “She’s a little nervous but that’s normal. Everything else is going smoothly so far, so she will be brought out in a few minutes.”

Levi nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He was trying his hardest to stay calm, to keep from lunging at Premier Zackley and strangling him until he promised to let (Y/N) go, but it was starting to strain on him. His skin broke out in a sweat as he forced himself to take deep breaths. He could do this. For (Y/N), he could do this.

He immediately looked up at the sound of the large wooden doors opening with a loud creak, his attention settling on the (h/c) haired woman handcuffed between two guards, her head down so her hair curtained her expression from others. His eyes narrowed and a low growl slipped from between his lips at the sight of the bruises on her arms and legs from the chains and cuffs she had been wearing in her cell. His blood was roaring in his ears as he fought every instinct he had to swoop down and bring her back into his arms. He had almost lost her once, he wouldn’t lose her again, no matter the cost.

Her wings were hidden, the huge black membranes tucked safely in the slits of her back, away from the prying eyes of the assembled soldiers. That at least gave Levi some relief, the knowledge that the extra sensitive appendages were kept from harm or unwanted touch.

The dull chatter in the courtroom hushed as (Y/N) was brought to the center of the room, pushed into a kneeling position on the same platform Eren had been placed on just a few years prior. One of the guards holding her leaned down and clapped her manacles to the sturdy metal post behind her, double checking that she was secure before backing away, moving with the other guard to stand on either side of Premier Zackley, guns at the ready.

The room was so quiet you could’ve heard a pin drop. The people in the room barely breathed as they waited impatiently for Zackley to finish preparing his notes, eager to see if they rumors were true. The Premier cleared his throat, shuffling the papers in front of him as he peered down at the woman on the platform from over the top of his glasses.

“(Y/N) (L/N)?”

(Y/N) looked up when her name was called, her eyes hard as she stared up at the older man.

“Yes.”

“Member of the Survey Corps. Age (#). Cadet under the command of Squad Leader Hanji Zoe,” Zackley read off, glancing at her after every sentence for her quick nod of confirmation. “It looks like you have no criminal record, but your place and date of birth are unknown, so that technically can not be confirmed nor denied outside of the information gathered during your time as a soldier.”

(Y/N) swallowed hard but did not respond, waiting, just as Hanji had told her to do, for the Premier to make his point. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to be patient, knowing that if she rushed this, if she wasn’t careful, she could easily be thrown to the wolves.

“It looks like, based on these reports, that you are a loyal soldier who has a clean background, a solid record, and a hard working personality, since it is labeled here that you are about to be promoted to Squad Leader,” the Premier leaned forward, “that means, we are here for a different reason entirely. Tell me, do you know why you are here?”

“Yes,” (Y/N) answered clearly.

“Very good. Now, without further ado, this court is now in session.”

As soon as Zackley opened the floor, a man from the Military Police stood, a smug grin on his face as he glanced at the annoyed scowls of the Survey Corps officers who were watching him.

“Premier Zackley, thank you for that wonderful introduction,” the man started off, making Levi roll his eyes so hard they hurt. “I would like to start off on behalf of the Military Police and say that this woman should be placed in our custody.”

The Survey Corps officers exchanged glances at that. They had been expecting the man to rant on and on about how she should be tortured, experimented on, or killed, not taken in by another branch of the military. The one closest to the King, no less.

“Interesting, state your case,” Zackley said, folding his hands in front of his face.

“We believe she could be of great use with us, sir. She could be a viable source of protection for our current ruling monarch, and we could use her to increase funding for our resources and supplies. Nobles would come from miles around to see her, it’s something we can use to better the lives of all of the soldiers in the military! Instead of groveling for money at their feet, we could charge them to come see her, within the safety of the walls, perfectly ready to display for anyone who is willing to pay.”

(Y/N) had to fight to keep from grimacing in disgust at the thought of being constantly gawked at like some kind of freak, put out for people to see as if she were some sort of entertainment for them, rather than a human being trying to fight for humanity.

“What use is earning money from her like some kind of exotic beast if our soldiers keep dying?” Erwin cut in, making (Y/N)’s eyes soften at the sound of her friend’s hard voice trying to make others see reason. “She is needed in the Survey Corps with us, it’s what she was made for. She can continue to fight against the titans with us, allowing us to give her the proper protection as she uses her gifts to make fighting these man-eating monsters a hell of a lot easier. She would waste away if she was stuck within the walls with the Military Police.”

“Well, as I see it, Commander Erwin, she can’t be trusted outside of the walls with you. She hid this for how long? How many years now has she let her comrades die over and over again, never stepping in to save them? According to her reports, she didn’t try to assist any of you during your missions other than with the normal efforts displayed by every soldier, at least, until she apparently saved Captain Levi. And rumor has it, those two are sexually involved with one another, which would make for that incident to be purely based on bias rather than a change of heart. If she really was meant to be a helpful tool for humanity, she would’ve become that by now.”

Erwin shook his head, his hand reaching out slightly to touch Levi’s forearm when the shorter raven-haired man opened his mouth to retort. “She has already explained to us her reasoning behind that. If she had shown herself on base, she would’ve risked getting hunted or killed, or getting those around her injured if someone decided to use her friends and comrades as blackmail for her capture. If she had shown herself on the field, she would’ve risked sending her comrades into shock, making it difficult, if not impossible, for them to concentrate on the mission, running the risk of twice the number of soldiers dying. She has tried to find the right time to reveal her gift to us, but it’s been nearly impossible for her, something that was proven by the men of the Garrison out on the field when she finally did reveal herself, only to get shot and chased.”

“So you are saying that she was justified in letting the hundreds of lives she could’ve saved die? Because she couldn’t find the right timing?” The Military Police pig said incredulously, his every word like a punch to (Y/N)’s gut. “I was unaware the soldiers of the Survey Corps were so selfish, cared so little about their men in battle. If this doesn’t further bolster my claims, I don’t know what would.”

“That’s not what I said,” Erwin said, his voice cold. “I said-”

“And you brought up the men from the Garrison,” the MP cut off Erwin, smiling wider at the glares thrown his way. “I have actually brought them today as witnesses. They would like to say a few words, if that is alright?”

The Premier thought for moment before giving a slow nod.

As soon as the all clear was given, the MP motioned for two of the Garrison soldiers who had fought beside the Survey Corps that day to come forward. (Y/N) growled low in her throat at the sight of the men, especially the bigger of the two, the one that had shot her. She noticed Levi tense out of the corner of her eye, knowing he remembered just as well. She threw him a quick reassuring glance just as Hanji placed a hand on his shoulder, imploring him not to react. Levi managed to calm himself, crossing his arms over his chest, but she could tell it was taking every ounce of effort from him not to kill the man.

“Names?” The Premier asked.

“Louis Bordgenson.”

“Graham Pickett.”

“Bordgenson, Pickett, could you please explain why you are here? Why do you believe (Y/N) (L/N) should be placed under Military Police custody?”

“We were two of the few to witness what happened when (L/N) saved Captain Levi from the titans, sir,” Graham said. “We are here to support the Military Police in their decision of taking (L/N) into their custody because we believe that what we saw on the field is a perfect example of the Survey Corps’ shortcomings as a branch. They need to be improved, restored with proper management and leadership. And it all starts with weeding out the soldiers that need to be corrected, allowing them to reevaluate their life choices in a place that won’t get others killed. Out on that field, we were attacked by all of the Survey Corps officers when I shot at (L/N) for my own defense, without even pausing for a moment to consider the situation. That woman attacked me, nearly knocked me right into a titan’s mouth with her wings, and flew off, leaving her comrades for dead, even as they still fought for her in the end.”

Louis nodded along with what Graham was saying before opening his mouth to add on. “Exactly. And when we got back from beyond the walls, we were arrested for attacking a Survey Corps officer. We were called lunatics, psychotics, for claiming to have seen a winged woman, and yet, here she is. We were right all along and none of the Survey Corps officers stepped forward to say it was wrong. To top it all off, when she came back, they sheltered her! Hid her with them and tried to pass everything off as normal.”

“From what I saw, (Y/N) (L/N) did not attack either of you,” Erwin said, cutting the two younger men off from continuing with their ranting diatribe. His tone was sharpened ice and his voice was filled with venom, waiting to strike like a snake in the shadows with barely suppressed fury. (Y/N) felt a conflicting wave of pride, gratitude, and apprehension wash through her. She loved Erwin, he was a close friend of hers, but that sometimes made her forget how god damn scary he could be when upset.

“You boys seem to have forgotten that you two were not the only ones on the field that day. From what everyone else saw, (Y/N) performed a great service to save a comrade, exposing herself in the most vulnerable way possible to try to help us escape. To help you, escape. She never singled you out, never tried to approach you in any manner other than one of friendly disposition. She did knock you over with the power of her wings as you mentioned, but she only did that because you were standing too close to her in your attempt to capture her for yourself. She was just trying to fly away peacefully, and would not have left us on that battlefield if you had not ordered your men to charge and fire. Your imprisonment was valid, and your accusations are dramatized and inaccurate.”

(Y/N) closed her eyes as Erwin’s last word rang out. Her stomach was churning and she felt lightheaded, her heart conflicted with so many differing emotions at once. She was grateful for Erwin and the Survey Corps, her friends who were fighting for her, fighting for her future, but she couldn’t help but feel as if she didn’t deserve them and their efforts. While she hated to admit it, the men from the Garrison weren’t wrong. She had spent years hiding her wings away, failing to save her comrades because of her fear, watching as they were devoured when the faster speed of her wings possibly could’ve saved them. Her head drooped a little as the men in front of her fought. Could she even call herself a soldier? A scout? Did she deserve to fight alongside them? Did she deserve… Levi?

She sucked in a shuddering breath, willing the tears to stay back. Maybe she did deserve to be nothing more than an animal to be viewed in a cage. Something to be gawked at and displayed like some kind of trophy. Could she even be considered human? She was so abnormal, so fucked up, mentally and physically. How could she possibly be considered safe enough to be around those she cared about?

Just as she was about to succumb to the notion of her worthlessness, a sharp, deep voice made her eyes snap open and glance to her left where her lover was standing steadfast beside his commander, his silver eyes burning like molten iron.

“Now listen here, all of the claims you have made so far have been either disproven or provided with solutions. (Y/N) has been nothing but the most amazing soldier, dutifully working to take care of everyone around her and constantly fighting for a better world. Just because you fuckwads can’t get your heads out of your asses long enough to see it, doesn’t mean it’s not true. (Y/N) was faced with an incredibly tough decision in her life, and she’s been forced to deal with it ever since she was born. She is just human. Simply, wonderfully, human, and there is nothing wrong with the choices she made,” Levi said, making (Y/N)’s eyes water with the love she felt for the raven-haired man.

“I know she will continue to be a necessary asset for the Survey Corps, where she can keep doing what she knows how to do best. If we lock her up in some manor to be cooed at by nobles, we will be lost. For god’s sake we have to deal with Jaeger every day and she’s significantly less of a threat than he is, but has twice the amount of usefulness to us.”

“Oh, as if that little experiment is going so well,” the MP said with a sneer. “The Survey Corps got custody of that one and look what’s happened? Cities destroyed, people lost. Captain Levi, your own squad got brutally murdered by an abnormal on an expedition because that titan shifter was too useless to do anything to help you. If we let you take custody of this one as well, we fear that the odds of humanity winning this war will shift further downwards. The fate of every human within these walls is in the hands of the Survey Corps soldiers. The last thing your branch needs is another distraction, or in better terms, a mistake.”

(Y/N) winced at the insult, her body flooding with icy fear as murmurs of agreement floated through the crowd. She knew she should’ve expected this possibility, had even reminded herself of the fact when Erwin left to tell the Premier about her existence earlier that week. She had known from the moment she had agreed to reveal herself publicly and use her gifts in battle to fight the titans and save her friends that this could happen. She could be turned against, experimented on, taken back to a cage and locked up, just as she had spent most of her early life. But even knowing about it didn’t stop the anger, the fear from filling her from head to toe, making her shift nervously on the wooden platform. She wanted to speak, wanted to say something to counteract what the Military Police were claiming, but she kept her mouth shut, knowing it was for the best. If she started talking now, fueled by her emotions, after spending the entire time staying quiet, it would look as if she was becoming desperate, trying to hide something. And with how hard Levi and Erwin were fighting for her, the last thing she wanted to do was ruin everything by opening her stupid mouth.

Levi and Erwin were about to retort when the Premier held up his hand, his eyes closed as he waited for the room to settle down again. The room quickly hushed. (Y/N) waited, her entire body tense as she stared up at the Premier, her heart thumping so loudly she was surprised he couldn’t hear it.

Everything will be fine.

“Based on the claims made by both parties, I have come to a decision on where the defendant shall be placed until further notice,” Zackley said.

I won’t let them take you away from me.

“While both parties have put forth compelling arguments, I can not determine whether or not bias or deceit is at play here on either side. It is because of this that I have decided to put you in the place that I believe would be the safest for humanity should things take a turn for the worst.”

No matter what, we are in this together, wings and all.

“(Y/N) (L/N), I am officially placing you under the custody of the Military Police, where you will be kept and cared for until I can find the proper evidence to prove your innocence.”

I love you.

(Y/N) felt her world shift. She heard Levi’s roar of fury, Erwin’s sharp voice ringing out into the hall as he tried to reason with the Premier, Hanji’s screech of shock and anger, but no words registered. The Military Police. Anything but the Military Police. She wanted to struggle against her binds, wanted to roar and scream and snap, wanted to stretch her wings and fly away, far away, just her and Levi together. But she couldn’t do that. She hung her head, unable to hold back the tidal wave of tears this time as they slid down her cheeks in clear rivers, running down her soft skin to splatter on the floor beneath her.

She could practically hear the smirk in the MP’s voice as he thanked the Premier and barked orders at his assembled soldiers to grab her. She wanted nothing more than to slap that smug grin off his face but she knew she couldn’t. She forced herself to take deep breaths as she felt hands rain down on her, touching her, dragging her, chaining her.

When she was finally unhooked from the steel post in the center of the room, the Military Police soldiers holding her tightly between them, dragging her towards the door, (Y/N) managed to look up. She caught Levi’s eye from where he was being held back by both Erwin and Hanji, the sorrow and desperation in those stunning gunmetal hues making her heart shatter. She didn’t know when she’d see him again, if she ever would see him again. And even if she was granted the opportunity to see him, she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold him, kiss him, love him like she always did.

Even though her heart was being ripped to shreds, (Y/N) managed a watery smile in his direction, her lips moving to mouth the words, “I will see you again, I promise,” to him. She saw him stand a little straighter, a glint in his eye as he took her words to heart. She just knew that he was going to do everything in his power to make that happen.

No matter what, we are in this together, wings and all.

(Y/N) kept her eyes on him as she was led back through the large wooden doors of the courtroom, refusing to look away from her lover until the doors had completely shut behind her, officially separating her from the love of her life.

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chaoticevilbean · 3 years

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A Dash of Soulmates... oops

Prologue

Soulmates were a tricky thing. They were never meant to be easy, or to mean one thing in particular.

For some people, soulmates were the ones who would always help them through dark times. For others, soulmates are meant to challenge them and their views. And for a few people, soulmates will forever be the only ones who never left. The only constants was that a soulmate was good and a soulmate was given by the Spirits and a soulmate would not leave. Even death will never sever a soulbond.

There were many stories about the greatest bonds of history, of heroes who reached their highest potentials right alongside their soulmates. There were stories with great villains and stories with just love. Every story was recorded or passed down by word of mouth, from generation to generation, mother to son and father to daughter.

For every soulmate a person had, they also had a marking. Some symbol of who they were bonded with. Some people had many bonds, and some had none at all. Every person was believed to be whole on their own, but if they had soulmates, the bonds would make them stronger than they would be as an individual. Some of the bonds were platonic, some romantic, some familial, but there was no way to tell until a person met their soulmates.

The way to know for sure that someone was your soulmate was to forge a bloodbond. If two soulmates connected themselves through blood, a glow would emanate from them. They would be shown their bond’s life, at every point they were needed, or simply needed to see. Every person could feel those presences throughout their life in different ways, from a nudge to a warmth to cool touch. After the bloodbond was complete, which only took a few seconds, the mark of that soulmate would become vivid in color, instead of the faded hues it was before. If a mark faded again, it was a sign that another bloodbond should be preformed soon.

Sokka was never interested in soulmates. He had so many of them. Ten, to be precise. The marks were on his back in a triangle, from one shoulder blade to the other, then down his spine, and some in the center of all three spots. His soulmates were very present in his life, but he never really thought about who they might be. They were people he would one day meet, and that was that.

There was Kyoshi, named because of the faded green fan that his Gran-Gran said was like that of the great earthbending Avatar. Kyoshi was soft and gentle when times were harsh, and strong and focused when everything was calm. They helped him in practical ways, pulling him up and pushing him onwards.

There was Swordy, who was two swords. Dual swords, a merchant told him when he was four. An Earth Kingdom design. Swordy was warm, like the sun. They held him during storms, comforted him when he got hurt. Swordy was also kinda timid, but never stayed away for long.

There was Moon. A crescent moon in the center of Sokka’s back, if shaped a bit oddly. A bit fatter on one end and slimmer on the other, with a black hole in it. Moon was fun. There was never more than a day or two that passed before Moon would drag him outside to play with the other kids, or to practice with his boomerang. They were bright and happy, and Sokka always imagined them laughing. Big and loud and as beautiful as Tui.

Wheat was the same. Always moving, always having fun. But also more mischievous and clever. When there was a snowball fight, Sokka could always count on them to push him away from oncoming projectiles, and direct his throws towards his enemies. Wheat was just like the nickname, a full stalk of wheat flourishing with seeds.

A faded blue arrow represented a very flighty soulmate. Arrow was constantly helping him out of conflicts, guiding him towards edible plants while gathering, and pushing him to ask his mother to teach him to sew. When the wind started howling loudly, Arrow would rock him back and forth to the rhythm of the air while Swordy held him tight. Sokka started singing along to the rhythm, and Arrow seemed to enjoy it, for they would try to rock him back and forth at random times to get him to sing. The other kids enjoyed his spontaneous melodies, so he always obliged his soulmate.

The rocky outcrop on his right was Mountain. Rough instead of gentle, but never cruel. Mountain didn’t nudge or hug lightly. They squeezed and dragged and pushed, pulling him up and shoving him into danger. When the danger was actually a threat, Mountain yanked him back, practically strangling the boy as they held him.

Lord was hot, with an almost burning touch. Their mark was a crown, lit on a fire as bright as their presence. They didn’t like when someone was harsh with Sokka, and he could feel the heat as Lord moved in front of him, a barrier. The one time an older boy tried to hit him, Lord pulled Sokka out of the way and moved his fist for him, clocking the bully on the shoulder hard enough he fell down. Hakoda sat both boys down for a talk about fighting, but let Sokka go when he explained it wasn’t him, it was his soulmate. Lord didn’t like bullies, and especially didn’t like when people tried to hit him.

There was Stabby, who Sokka adored. He could feel when they hummed to him, a deep thrum at his side or back or front. They would sing, sometimes, and he could sense that, too. They would let him rant about his troubles, a hand on his arm so he knew they were there, then would help him mime stabbing someone. He kept telling Stabby that he couldn’t just jab people with knives. They responded with a hug, and then they would talk and he would feel the words vibrate in their chest. Sometimes they would trace their mark, a slim knife crossed by a white peony.

Chi knew about chi lines, according to both Sokka’s Gran-Gran and the word written on his back. They loved it when he theorized about what they must be like, to have the word chi written in place of an image. They also loved when he ran and let himself slide on the ice, or even just attempted a cartwheel. They went back and forth with his questions, and then Chi would help him perform a few acrobatic tricks, though he didn’t usually do anything that hard. Ice and snow made it a lot harder.

His last soulmate was presented a dilemma. She was the reason he never talked about his soulmates with anyone except Gran-Gran unless he had to. It was his sister, Katara, represented by his mother’s necklace. The mark made more sense when he was nine. Katara didn’t know.

It wasn’t like Sokka hid the fact he had soulmates, at least when he was younger. He just never found the need to talk about them if he didn’t need to. Gran-Gran was an exception because she was the first to teach him about marks, and bloodbonds, and the great stories of old. Seeing Katara having the same marks as him, running down her arms like water tracks, it made him quiet on the matter. If he’d already found one soulmate just by living, then he didn’t need to ask about his soulmates, or talk about them in general.

Then their mother was murdered. There was no time to tell Katara, and the fact that his mother might not have known before her death drove home that he’d landed himself with secrets. His father accepted that Sokka now pretended to have no soulmates. He didn’t ignore them, just never spoke a word about the shoves from Mountain and the hugs from Swordy and the way Katara cooled scrapes with what he assumed was her more advanced waterbending. He told himself that he never said anything to Katara, never asked her for a bloodbond, because it didn’t matter that much, and he was always quiet about this stuff.

When Hakoda and Bato and the other men left, and Sokka became Chief at the unripe age of eleven, his excuse became that he was too busy. There was always another task to complete, more food to hunt, more wood to gather. The kids needed to be trained so they could one day lead the tribe, the walls needed to be fortified constantly, and Katara needed to practice her bending. Nothing would change in the near future, and the discussion of soulmates could wait for another time. They wouldn’t even find their soulmates until they had the time and resources to leave the South Pole.

It would have continued like that. Sokka would never ignore the glaring piece of his and Katara’s life for another few years, at least.

Then Arrow literally crashed into their lives.

#atla #avatar the last airbender #sokka #katara #aang #suki #azula #mai #ty lee #zuko #jet #yue #soulmates #soulmate au #alternate universe #prologue #bloodbonds #soulbonds

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saltnhalo · 5 years

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inspired by if I can’t have you by shawn mendes, and this video

Dean looks out over the city lights of Toronto as the cold wind tousles his clothes, bites at his skin. His glass of whiskey, half-forgotten, is held in tightly curled fingers.

This isn’t fucking sustainable, Dean. Running from country to country, chasing your highs, forgetting about everyone who helped you get where you are.

It’s been two weeks. He’d thought time and distance would help, the endless string of shows and performances serving as a distraction, but it hasn’t. His thoughts keep returning to—

It’s going to get to a point where you put your music, your ego, above me every time. It already is. You’re blind if you don’t see it.

He grits his teeth. It’s not selfish to want to be successful. He’s worked so hard to get here, and now that he’s finally achieved his dreams, he shouldn’t be told to step it back. People want more. Everyone wants more.

…Almost everyone.

Goodbye, Dean.

Dean’s hand shakes as he lifts the glass of whiskey to his lips. He takes a tasteless sip, looks out over the hollowly beautiful view for another minute, then turns and walks back into his room.

It’s 2am in Montreal, and Dean lies awake in his hotel room, looking at his phone.

He knows he shouldn’t be doing this—he needs a clean break, otherwise it’s going to mess with his head. He trusts that Crowley knows what he’s been talking about, since it’s his management that’s made him so successful, and so he’s tried to stay away from everything that could remind him of…

Of Cas.

Clearly, he’s failing.

Every message that he scrolls past hurts more and more, every sweet flirtation or news about their respective days, shared comments and confessions of fears, aspirations, love. Cas’s absence burns like a hole in his heart, and reading his texts only makes it hurt so fucking much more.

Over and over, he reads: I love you, I love you, I love you.

Does Cas even still feel that way about him? Or has he moved on already, too over Dean and the consuming nature of his career to care?

As much as Dean wishes he could say the same, that he’s doing fine on his own and he’s happy…

It’s not the truth.

Dean’s hotel room in New York has all the comforts and luxuries that a young music star could ever want, but that’s not what he’s absorbed in right now. Instead, he’s a third of the way through the expensive bottle of rum that was provided to him as a courtesy from the hotel, drunkenly doodling images and random song lyrics into his notebook.

He’s trying to use his newfound insomnia to write new songs, but no matter what avenue he tries to take with his writing, or which themes he focuses on, his thoughts always come back to Cas.

He always comes back to Cas. And Cas always comes back to him—or he has done, for the last three years they’d been together.

But this time… Dean is starting to realize that Cas may not actually come back. No matter how many times he’s typed out a text, he’s deleted them every single time, and never actually had the guts to reach out.

Likewise, Cas hasn’t contacted him since the night that they fought. The night the he ended… them.

And that realization is fucking terrifying, because it’s starting to put things into perspective for Dean.

If he can’t stop thinking about Cas—not even when he’s onstage, or in his hotel with a glass of liquor, or even writing a brand new fucking song—then maybe he made a mistake in letting Cas walk away. Maybe he’s made the biggest fucking mistake of his life.

And if he can’t write a song that’s not about Cas… maybe he should stop trying not to.

He finishes the last of his glass, sets it down, then puts pen to paper and starts to write.

The song, in itself, is pretty simple. It’s Dean, in all his essence, saying all the things he would say to Cas and confessing just how much he’s missed him in the time they’ve been apart. It’s a long shot, he knows, and he might have done too much damage to their relationship already, but he has to try.

“Crowley,” he says into his phone, as he sandwiches it between his ear and his shoulder and fiddles around with guitar chords. “This tour is going to be my only one this year. I’ve gotta focus on other things. Can you make sure the press knows before my show tonight?”

“What? Dean, you—“

Dean cuts his manager off before he can get any further. “I’ve made my decision, Crowley, I won’t let you change my mind. Just get it done.” He hangs up the phone before Crowley can protest much more, and the accented squawking is cut off mid-rant. He’s got more important things to think about—like chord progressions, and performing a completely new song, and whether Cas is going to actually use the ticket and VIP pass that Dean had requested be delivered to his apartment this morning.

Dean sits in his dressing room, ten minutes before his show is due to start, and looks down at his phone. The news outlets have been going wild all day with the news that this will be his last and only tour for the year, but he couldn’t care less about that. Amongst all the people who have been texting him or tweeting at him, the one person he really cares about, really wants to hear from, has been radio silent. The most recent text in his conversation with Cas still just says we need to talk.

He tosses his phone onto the table in front of him and runs his hands through his hair. Regardless of whether Cas is here tonight, he’s still gonna play the song—he didn’t pull an all-nighter on it for nothing—but the longer it goes without hearing from him…

The more Dean worries that the damage he’s done is totally irreparable.

There’s a knock on his door.

“Come in!” he calls, spinning in his chair to face whoever needs his attention.

It’s Benny.

“Is he here?” Even if it’s not Cas at the door, Benny could still be bringing good news—news of Cas spotted in the venue, Cas waiting in the VIP area, Cas wanting to talk to Dean. Just from the look of Benny’s face, though, Dean can immediately tell that that’s not the case.

“Sorry, Dean. No one’s seen him. I’ve been sent to get you, the show’s supposed to start soon.” He opens his mouth, like he wants to say more, then closes it. “Good luck out there,” he says instead, and then the door closes again.

Dean tries not to deflate, tries not to let the news of Cas’s absence crush him more than it already feels like it is. A lot of people paid good money for their tickets tonight, and he still needs to give them what they came for, regardless of who may or may not be in the audience.

He pours himself a shot of whiskey, downs it in one quick swallow, then stands.

It’s time to put on a show.

“How are y’all doing?”

The stadium erupts in wild screaming that makes Dean’s blood thrum with adrenaline and electricity. This is why he loves performing live—the energy that he gets from the crowd has to be one of the most incredible sensations he’s ever felt in his life, and he smiles out at his audience.

“Alright, this next song is… kinda special, actually. I wrote it last night, and this is the first time I’m performing it for anyone, let alone several thousand anyones, so…” He laughs and shakes his head as he takes the offered acoustic guitar from a stagehand. “If it’s no good, then I’m sorry. But I wrote it for someone pretty f—damn amazing, and I was really dumb to let him go, so… if you’re out there, you know who you are.”

That’s all he can say right now, before his nerves and his fears get the better of him. There’s more, so much more, but it’s all for Cas’s ears only (if he ever gets a chance to say it) and so for now, he sits down on his stool, sets his guitar against his thigh, and begins to play.

I can’t write one song that’s not about you…

He can’t hear the audience past his earpieces, so he can get lost in the music, in the chords and his voice and the feelings that well up inside him. The hopelessness, the inability to move on, the longing and the feeling of wrong time, wrong mindset.

He sings out his feelings, everything he wishes he could say to Cas, closing his eyes halfway through and just letting himself go. So much to say, so much still left unsaid, so many feelings bottled up inside him with no way out. Even if Cas isn’t here to hear this tonight, at least it’s a start.

When he opens his eyes again, towards the end of the song, there’s a commotion by the front barriers, people turning to look at someone and the crowd making way for them and then—

And then Cas is standing there, pressed against the barrier and looking up at Dean, one person in a sea of thousands but the only person who matters most to Dean in this single moment.

His heart breaks open, raw and vulnerable, and he fumbles the next chord in front of an entire stadium full of people but it doesn’t matter because Cas is here. This means that maybe, hopefully, he’s willing to give Dean a second chance.

He plays the last few chords, sings the last few lines as he watches a reluctant smile tug at the corners of Cas’s mouth, and barely lets the last note ring out before he’s putting his guitar down and jumping down off the front of the stage. His security team move to intercept him as he nears the barriers, but Benny must say something into the comms, because they step down after only a moment.

There’s nothing standing in between him and Cas now but a metal barrier, and Dean closes the distance eagerly, as though it’s just the two of them and no one else. Cas reaches for him as he gets close, curls his fingers into the lapels of his jacket and kisses him. The crowd screams. Dean doesn’t care.

The kiss only lasts a few brief moments, but there’s so much in it. There’s relief, and frustration, and the joy of being reunited. There’s passion.

There’s Cas.

When they separate, Cas’s hands still cling to Dean’s jacket, as though he’s unwilling to let him drift away again. Dean leans close, the edge of the barrier biting into his chest. “You came,” he says, breathless and exhilarated. Cas is really here.

“I did.” His voice is quiet over the noise of the crowd. Dean leans in closer to hear him, always gravitating into his pull.

“You didn’t use the pass I gave you.”

Cas gives him a wry look, one eyebrow raised. “I bought my own ticket, Dean. Are you really cancelling the rest of the tours you were planning to do later this year?”

“Yeah. Someone made me realize that there are more important things than how many chart toppers I can release and how many stadiums I can sell out.” He pauses for a second, then adds, “It’s you, Cas. You’re the important thing. And the someone. Just in case it wasn’t clear.”

For the first time, Cas grins, wide and gummy and happier than Dean has seen him in a long time. “It was clear, Dean, but thank you. It means a lot to me that you’ve thought about what I said. Really.”

Dean’s heart flip flops in his chest, and he grins like an idiot. “I don’t know how I ever thought I could put anything above you, Cas. I… I need you. I want to make this work.”

The corners of Cas’s eyes crinkle. This time when he pulls Dean in for another kiss, it’s softer. Gentler. “Me too,” he says when they pull away, and the corners of his lips curl up. “I think you have a show to finish. I’ll meet up with you after?”

Dean can’t think of a more perfect way to end the night. “Deal,” he says, but as he turns away to head back up to the stage, Cas grabs him loosely by the wrist to get his attention back.

“Oh, and Dean?” He grins, and Dean leans back in, enthralled by him and whatever it is he has to add. Cas squeezes his wrist gently, his eyes soft.

“I really liked the song.”

#dean winchester #castiel #destiel #profoundnet #spncreatorsdaily #light angst #pop star dean #musician dean #singer dean #breakups #reunited #fic #emma's writing #spn #deancas #fluffy ending

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ceruleanmusings · 4 years

Note

6 (cuddle) for Melisaac?

Tagging @zadien because she said once that she believed Isaac would be a good caretaker if someone was sick, so, here ya go!

—–

Isaac deftly flipped the grilled cheese over, smiling in satisfaction when the contents didn’t come spilling out and the butter hissed on the surface of the skillet. He’d barely flipped the other one over when arms wrapped around his midsection. His breath stilled, his shoulders lifted upwards, and he ducked his head. A second later his brain kicked in—you’re not home, you’re safe!—and he relaxed into the embrace, chuckling when he felt her forehead against his spine.

“You’re supposed to be at school,” Mel commented, her voice muffled against his shirt.

“You’re supposed to be resting.”

“When someone breaks into my house to make food, I have to investigate.” She sniffed as she backed away and appeared in his peripheral, all red nosed and glassy eyed.

“I didn’t break in. You gave me a key, remember?”

“Yeah, but it’s the first time you’ve used it.” She nuzzled into his side, her cheek pushing upwards as it lay against his arm. Her skin was warm to the touch though not as warm as it had been earlier. Good. The fever broke. “What’s that?”

“Grilled cheese.”

“That’s not grilled cheese, that’s an imposter!” Isaac bit his lip to keep from laughing at the rasp attached to her words, making her cry of indignation fade in and out. “Don’t laugh at me!” she nudged his side and the pout on his face only made him strain harder. She tried to appear stern but…with her big blue eyes and cute face, it was impossible.

“This is like you and the maple syrup all over again.”

“I can’t help that you’re wrong in thinking Vermont maple syrup is better than Canadian.”

He didn’t get a chance to retort when her face scrunched up and a series of hard, hacking coughs came out of her mouth. Immediately, he dropped the spatula and reached out for her. He grasped her shoulders and held her upright as her body contracted with coughs.

“Those sound bad. What…what can I do, Mello?” His teeth sunk into his lips as he mentally berated himself for asking. It wasn’t as if she could answer with her coughs. He pushed a breath out his nose. How he wished he could just…do something. Take away her pain. But she wasn’t hurt, just miserable. He’d spent his entire life trying to figure out how help a miserable person and he still hadn’t made progress by the time his father was murdered. Then again his father liked to move the goalposts at random, lull him into security only to pull the rug out from beneath him. He adapted but maybe it was better that he didn’t settle. Because now he could still try.

“I’m fine,” she rasped, taking a deep breath. She coughed again, cleared her throat, and put a wavering smile on her face. “I’m good.”

Frowning, he lifted his hands and wiped the tears that slipped down her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. Letting out an indecipherable mumbled, she leaned forward into his touch. “Okay, you need to go lie down.”

“I’m fine!” she insisted, her voice cracking on the last word.

“Dove, you look like you made out with a clown in a sauna.”

That time he did laugh at how fast her expression changed, from adoration at the petname to indignation when his statement settled in. Glaring she said, “I will cough in your face.”

He smirked. “Try it. I can’t get sick anymore, remember?”

Huffing, she turned on her heel and stomped back into the living room. “Why do the werewolves get all the good stuff?” she ranted the entire way. “Avian flu. Ha! This is some kind of stupid joke! Or a really bad sort of irony!”

Isaac turned back to the food and removed it from the heat. He assembled them onto plates, added them to a tray followed by two steaming mugs—tea for him, hot chocolate for her (she hated tea)—and carried into the living room where Mel was already curled up on the couch, bundled up in blankets tugged up to her chin.

He hesitated, taking in the sight, his heart beating a steady and familiar thrum that sent off a signal in his head that lit up like a neon sign: mine.

“You don’t have to stay,” she said.

Setting the tray down on the coffee table, he then lifted her legs off the couch, sat down, and replaced them on his lap. “School’s boring without you,” he said with a nonchalant shrug. She beamed and he shrugged again. It wasn’t a lie. Yeah, Scott was there but Scott was there with Allison and Stiles and Lydia. And they were Scott and Allison and Stiles and Lydia and he was just Isaac on the fringe. But when he was with Mel, it was almost like they were off in their own little world, tucked away and safe. And he liked it. And he craved it. And he needed it. Clearing his throat, he reached for a plate and held it out to her. “Now eat it.”

“Why does it look weird?” She poked at the golden brown crust; white cheese oozed from between the two slices of bread.

“Because it’s a Vermont grilled cheese. It has cheese, apple—”

“Apple!?”

“—bacon, and syrup. Most of it covers your basic food groups. The syrup’s just for fun.”

“What kind of syrup is it?”

He eyed her, an eyebrow popping upwards. “The good kind.”

“You’re lucky I’m too tired to fight you on that,” she said, pointing in his direction with the corner of her grilled cheese. Cut diagonally; she preferred all her sandwiches cut that way.

He picked up the remote and turned the volume up on The Price is Right, recoiling at someone’s horrible bid on a set of watches, only to feel a sticky kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you,” Mel said against his skin, nose nuzzling against the crook of his neck. “I love you.”

A strangled, choking sound rumbled in his throat as heat pulsed around his neck and redness splashed onto his cheeks. The thrumming got louder; he swore if anyone stood near him they would have heard the buzzing, akin to steady light bulb, a tuning fork.

A lovestruck fool.

“Still not used to it?” Not waiting for him to answer she continued as she fit into his side, slotting like a puzzle piece, “that’s okay. I’ll keep telling you until you are. And even more after that.”

He swung his arm around her, pulling her closer to his side, all but pulling her onto his lap. He tucked his chin atop of her head only after pressing a kiss to the top of it, murmuring, “Please do.”

[soft touch meme]

#teen wolf #isaac lahey #melanie crowe #teen wolf oc #teen wolf ficlet #mystic-scripture #answered #finally i write something short!#soft!isaac gives me a lot of feels btw

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pinktintedmonocle · 4 years

Text

Blue Is Not The Only Colour - A Red Dwarf FanFic - Chapter 3 - NFSW

Lister and Rimmer finally get down to business but the sex is somewhat hampered by the presence of Holly and the size of their bed.

Chapter 3: The Bunk

Lister strode purposely down the corridor, breathing deeply. His heart was beating so fast that it felt as if it was attempting to escape from his body with all the desperation of a Tory MP trying to get away from a member of the working class.

When he got to the entrance to their quarters he took a final deep lungful of air. He could do this, he could fix his relationship with Rimmer. He had to fix it; the alternative of spending the rest of his life in a kind of cold war with the hologram, sharing nothing more than the occasional venomous look, was too painful to even think about.

Lister pressed the button on the wall and the doors slid open. He took a few tentative steps into the room and paused by the table. Rimmer was curled up in his bunk, his front facing the wall.

“Hey Rimmer”, he said softly. “Are you asleep?”

“Yes.” Rimmer replied croakily.

Lister sighed. “Come on, man, I just want to talk to you.”

The hologram huffed and turned over but pointedly avoided making eye contact with Lister. “What do you want to talk about?”

“About us, Rimmer. We need to talk about us.”

Rimmer snuffled and pulled the duvet cover up tighter around his chin. “I don’t know what we’ve got left to talk about. You’ve had your bit of fun at my expense.”

Lister frowned in confusion. “Fun at your – Rimmer, what are you on about?”

“Your big joke, Listy!” Rimmer spat back. “I must say, it was a whopper! Definitely a step up from your usual favourite gag of leaving one of your socks between the pages of Napoleon’s diaries so every time I pick it up for a spot of bedtime reading it flops onto my face like a tiny stink bomb.”

Lister just stared at the hologram. “Rimmer, I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Rimmer swung his legs over the side of the bed, stood up and strode over to the console by the door. He started pushing random buttons, eyes glued to the screen. “Of course you do! It’s the jape of the century. Holly would be proud! Convince poor sad Rimmer that you might actually return his pathetic feelings and ask him out on a date, only to feed him disgustingly flavoured food and then insult him until his leaves. Hilarious! I’m surprised you’re not still crying with laughter about it! I bet you had a good chuckle with Kryten and the Cat after I left. I bet you were all slapping your thighs and howling with mirth.”

Lister’s mouth fell open in shock and it was a few seconds before he found he could speak again. “Oh Rimmer, you don’t really think it was all just a joke do you?”

Rimmer continued to pretend to work on the console. “Of course! And how hysterical it was! Side splitting, pant wetting levels of hilarity! Now if you’ll excuse me I’ve got some work to do.”

“Rimmer, it wasn’t a joke!” exclaimed Lister. “Do you really think I’d be that cruel, that heartless?”

Rimmer whirled around to face Lister, his features contorted in an ugly snarl. “Why not? I mean, you don’t actually like me do you? Nobody really likes me. Nobody ever has and nobody ever will so I would appreciate it if you could just stop pretending and sod off.”

“I’m not pretending!” Lister yelled. “I love you Rimmer, I really do! I feel the same about you as you feel about me, and I’m sorry our date was such a smegging disaster but I really think we can work this out if we just talk about it!”

Rimmer scoffed and crossed his arms defensively. “I was on to you from the very start of this gag and I only turned up for that joke of a date to see how far you’d actually take it. I don’t have any feelings for you Listy. I don’t know where you got that idea from but I’m afraid you’re sorely mistaken miladdo!”

“I got it from you, Rimmer, just a minute ago!” countered Lister. “You said that you thought I was trying to make you think I returned your pathetic feelings. Except that they’re not pathetic and I do return them Rimmer!”

“Stop it!” screamed Rimmer, and Lister noticed that his bottom lip had started to tremble and his eyes had filled with tears. “Stop giving me false hope! Do you have any idea how painful this is for me, having you tell me that you love me and calling me your moon and holding my face like you did in the lift and asking me on pretend dates? I can’t do this anymore Listy. I know I’m already dead but it’s killing me, this constant cycle of making me feel wanted and then treating me like something you just scraped off the bottom of your boot after clomping around the diesel decks. I can’t do it anymore, I can’t do it, I can’t-”

Rimmer’s rant was cut short by the sudden presence of Lister’s lips on his own. Lister brought up a hand to gently cup the hologram’s face while he rested the other on Rimmer’s waist. For several seconds Rimmer seemed to be frozen, his mouth not responding at all to the kiss. Lister was just about to pull away when an arm snaked around his back and pulled his closer. Rimmer’s lips parted to allow Lister’s tongue entrance to his mouth and they stumbled back, Lister’s arse colliding with the table. Lister’s groan of pain quickly turned to pleasure as Rimmer deepened the kiss. The hologram spun Lister around and pressed him down into the lower bunk. Lister could feel the beginning of Rimmer’s erection pressing into his thigh and the sensation made Lister’s own cock start to harden.

The kiss was desperate and messy and perfect; it was everything Lister had imagined it would be and more. He hadn’t felt this happy since the day in the orphanage when he’d been told there was a family who wanted to adopt him. He felt lightheaded and dizzy with what he initially thought was joy, but as his lungs started to ache he realised that it was more likely oxygen deprivation. He broke the kiss reluctantly, gasping for air. He opened his eyes to find Rimmer staring at him in awed silence. After a few deep breaths Lister’s face cracked into a wide grin. “Now do you believe me, Rimmer?”

Lister half expected the hologram to start shouting at him again, but instead Rimmer just nodded mutely before clearing his throat. “Yes, well, I must say the evidence you have provided is quite convincing. But are you sure? Don’t you want to get to know each other a bit more before we take this any further?”

Lister rolled his eyes. “Rimmer, we’ve been getting to know each other for thirty years! So just shut up and kiss me again, alright?”

“Alright” agreed Rimmer, and their lips glued themselves back together.

As the kiss became more heated, Lister’s hands started to wander around Rimmer’s body. He’d thought the hard light body felt good in the lift, but now that Rimmer was actually on top of him and they were touching all over, Rimmer’s body felt amazing. It was smooth and cool and that lovely low grade thrum of electrical current seemed to pulse in tandem with the beat of Lister’s heart. As he trailed a hand down Rimmer’s slim waist he began to think about what Rimmer would look like naked. He hadn’t seen his Rimmer nude since the psi-moon and that had been years before. Presumably the software that caused Rimmer’s face to age also affected the rest of him, and Lister found himself wondering exactly how Rimmer’s body would have changed. As he contemplated this Lister allowed one of his hands to crawl slowly up Rimmer’s left thigh. When he reached Rimmer’s groin he gently cupped his erection. The hologram let out a small yelp and broke their kiss.

“You OK, Rimmer?” Lister asked.

“Yes, I’m fine – I - I just – look, can we just stop for a moment?” Rimmer stuttered.

After finally getting the object of his affection into bed after so many years the last thing Lister wanted to do was stop, but there was a look in Rimmer’s eyes that told him something was not quite right. “Of course man”, he said.

Rimmer rolled off Lister onto his side and propped his head up on one hand. Lister followed suit and they lay nose to nose on the narrow bed.

“Look” said Rimmer, seeming more uncomfortable than a politician who had been tasked with having to read out a particularly large number on TV. “It’s not that I don’t want to have sex with you. It’s just that I’m not entirely sure … how”.

Lister frowned. “What do you mean? Look, I know you haven’t had many partners but you have had sex before Rimmer.”

“Yes, but never with a man!” exclaimed Rimmer. He looked down, clearly embarrassed. “I don’t really know where to start.”

“Ok”, Lister replied slowly, trying to think of a way to put Rimmer at ease. “How about you just think about how you like to be touched and then touch me like that?”

Rimmer took a deep breath. He mirrored Lister’s earlier move and rested his hand on Lister’s crotch. Lister hummed his approval and Rimmer stroked Lister’s erection, softly at first and then a little firmer. Lister gasped in pleasure and captured Rimmer’s lips in a deep kiss. As they kissed Lister put his own hand back on Rimmer’s crotch and lightly squeezed the hologram’s balls through his trousers.

“I think it’s time we took our clothes off.” Lister breathed.

“God yes.” Rimmer moaned. He scrunched his nose up in concentration and a split second later his uniform was gone.

“Smegging hell!” Lister exclaimed and let out a low whistle of approval. Rimmer’s body was much as he remembered it; lean and muscular, toned to perfection after years of early morning star jumps and nervous pacing. There was a smattering of brown and grey hairs on his chest, a colour palette that was reflected in his pubic hair. Lister’s eyes widened as he stared at Rimmer’s cock. Blimey, he thought, no wonder Ace got around so much.

Rimmer cleared his throat. “Are you just going to gawk at me all night or are you going to remove your own clothes as well?”

Rimmer’s words snapped Lister out of his reverie. He began to wiggle out of his own garments, a task made awkward by how close together they were in the narrow bunk.

“Give us a hand, would you?” Lister asked, his fingers fumbling as he tried to unbutton his shirt. “It’s not as easy for me as it is for you; I can’t just twitch my nose or snap my heels together and be instantly nude.”

“Right”, said Rimmer. He surveyed Lister’s body with the intensity of a general planning a complex battle strategy. “You take the bottom half. I’ll take the top.”

Lister nodded and shuffled out of his trousers while Rimmer made quick work of his shirt. Soon he was down to just his pants, which he pulled off with a final flourish. Rimmer leaned back in the bunk slightly and stared at Lister’s body.

For the first time since he’d kissed Rimmer Lister felt nervous. He was aware that a diet of curry and beer combined with little exercise meant that he wasn’t exactly in great shape, or even in fairly OK shape. In fact, the only shape he resembled these days was probably a circle. As Rimmer continued to scrutinise him Lister braced himself for a crude remark so was surprised when Rimmer instead just said “You look amazing.”

Lister glanced down to check it was definitely his body that Rimmer was looking at. “Really?” he asked. “I mean, I’m flattered man, but your body is seriously incredible and mine is just, well-” he glanced down at his stomach and felt his cheeks redden. “A bit soft.”

Rimmer reached out and trailed a slender finger down Lister’s side, a sensation that made Lister shiver in anticipation. “You’ve always been a bit soft.”

“Well, yeah”, Lister agreed with a grimace, “but I’m even softer than that these days.”

“I like it”, Rimmer replied. His hand skimmed down Lister’s hip and came to rest next to Lister’s cock. “You’re gorgeous. Just like I imagined you would be.”

“Come here, man”, Lister said breathlessly and captured Rimmer’s lips in his again before clambering on top of the hologram. He started to grind against Rimmer, their cocks rubbing against each other.

Rimmer let out a strangled gasp of pleasure and brought his hands up around Lister’s back to hold him closer but then quickly pulled back. “Hang on; do we need to use protection?”

“Protection against what?” asked Lister. “Look, I know I’ve gotten pregnant before but I think it’s pretty unlikely you’re going to get me up the duff. A, you’re a man and B, you’re made entirely of light. What would the baby be, a 40 watt bulb?”

“I didn’t mean pregnancy, Listy. Look, I’ve never had sex with a human as a hologram. I don’t know if it’s safe! What if I ejaculate lightning and accidently fry you to a crisp?”

Lister looked down at Rimmer’s penis in alarm. “Do you normally cum lightning?”

“Well, no” admitted Rimmer. “But you never know! Perhaps we should use a condom.”

“Why? If a seventy foot oak tree can be split in half by a single bolt of lightning then I don’t think a latex sheath has got much of a chance.” Lister deadpanned. “Look, it’s fine! Kochanski and her Lister had loads of sex and he was a hologram. So it’s safe, alright?”

There was a polite cough from the corner of the room and both men turned their heads sharply to see Holly’s disembodied head floating on the screen. “He’s right, you know. It’s completely safe for a hologram and human to have unprotected sex. No diseases can pass between them and when a hologram ejaculates nothing actually comes out. It’s a bit like a radio play; it’s like being in the theatre but there’s bugger all to see.”

“Holly!” cried Lister. He rolled off Rimmer and clamped both of his hands to his nipples. He realised, belatedly, that this meant his cock was still on full display. Rimmer, apparently sensing his discomfort, used one of his own hands to cover Lister’s penis before using his other to cover one of his own nipples. As a result they ended up in an even more compromising position than before. Lister quickly pulled the duvet cover over both of them. “What the smeg do you think you’re doing?”

The computer seemed completely unfazed. “Delivering important information to a crew member in order to validate a statement they’ve made. Why, what are you two doing? If it’s strip poker then I think both of you have lost.”

“Smeg off Holly!” Rimmer yelled, while Lister reached over the side of the bed and picked up one of his boots which he lobbed at the screen. Holly ducked to the side as the boot hit the centre of the monitor, then turned to frown at the two occupants of the bed. “Oi! No need to get violent! If you want me to leave you only have to ask politely.”

“Please leave, Holly” Lister asked through gritted teeth.

“See, that wasn’t so hard was it?” said Holly. The monitor went black and Lister let out a long breath and flopped down, burying his face in the pillow.

“Gimboid!” Rimmer screeched at the screen. “I’ll cut your floppy disk up into tiny pieces, cook them in tomato sauce and feed them to the skutters on Italian cuisine night!”

“Rimmer man, calm down! He’s gone now” said Lister.

Rimmer rolled onto his back and glared up at the underside of Lister’s bed. After a few moments his anger abated and he puffed out his cheeks in frustration.

Lister threw the duvet off and ran a hand down Rimmer’s chest. “Why don’t we just pick up where we left off?”

Rimmer grimaced and looked down at his softening cock. “I’m afraid that goit has killed my arousal.”

“No worries”, said Lister, a wicked gleam in his eye. “I know just how to fix that.” Before Rimmer could say another word, Lister ducked his head down to the hologram’s groin and swallowed his penis whole.

Rimmer’s cock tasted like nothing Lister had ever experienced before. It was a little like licking a battery, but without the sudden electric shock; instead the electricity felt warm and pleasant and ticked Lister’s tongue in a way that made his own erection, also a little deflated from Holly’s interruption, regain its hardness. Lister dragged his tongue slowly up the shaft to the head before teasing the slit.

Beneath him, Rimmer whimpered as his hips bucked. Lister grinned around Rimmer’s erection and cupped the hologram’s balls, squeezing them gently. After a few minutes, Lister pulled back with a wet ‘pop’ and looked up at Rimmer. The hologram had his eyes closed and his face was a picture of ecstasy.

“Are you enjoying that Rimmer?” Lister asked cheekily. “’Cause you know, I can always stop if you’re not really in the mood anymore.”

Rimmer swore under his breath. “Oh God, that feels amazing. Don’t you dare stop, you goit.”

“You ain’t seen nothing yet”, said Lister before taking Rimmer’s cock back into his mouth.

Although Lister had generally favoured women before the accident that had left him stranded three million years into deep space, there had been a few cases where a good looking guy had turned his head. One memorable man had introduced him to a particularly pleasurable move that had resulted in one of the most intense orgasms of Lister’s life, a technique that he now demonstrated on Rimmer.

Rimmer gave a strangled cry. “Oh God! I don’t think I’m going to last much longer” he said breathlessly. A few more deep sucks from Lister later and Rimmer came, his whole body shaking. Lister let go of Rimmer’s cock and pulled himself up the bed so they were lying face to face.

Rimmer stared at Lister with more love in his eyes than the Cat had when gazing at his favourite suits. Lister, already panting with arousal, felt the breath catch in his chest.

“Wow, Listy. That was, that was…” Rimmer frowned, as if struggling to find the right words. “…good” he finished lamely.

Lister laughed. “Thanks man. It’s been a while so I’ll take ‘good’. And you’re still here, you haven’t run off to re-arrange your wire collection or order a pizza, so it couldn’t have been that bad.”

“N-No!” Rimmer stuttered. “Look, I didn’t mean ‘good’ as in ‘fine’. It’s just that I couldn’t find the right words! Because it was better than good, Listy, it was great, it was-”

Lister clamped a hand over the hologram’s mouth. “I know what you meant, Rimmer. I was only teasing. It was more than good for me too.”

Lister was half expecting a snarky comment when he removed his hand, but instead Rimmer just smiled widely and leaned in to kiss him again. Smegging hell, he thought as Rimmer’s tongue tickled the back of his throat, if all it takes to mellow out Rimmer is a blow job we should have done this three million years ago. Lister’s erection brushed against Rimmer’s thigh, and the hologram pulled back in surprise.

“Oh! I almost forgot you haven’t…um, let me-” Rimmer tried to get on his knees and manoeuvre down the bunk to Lister’s crotch, but just ended up banging his head on the bottom of Lister’s bunk.

“Smeg!” yelped Rimmer, before he tried again and promptly kicked Lister in the knee.

“Ow!” Lister cried.

“Right, sorry!” blustered Rimmer. “Let me try again.”

This time one of Rimmer’s legs collided painfully with Lister’s left ankle. Lister grabbed Rimmer before the hologram could hobble him further and pulled him back down so they were lying nose to nose again.

“Just use your hands Rimmer, OK? We’ll try the other stuff next time when we’re in a bigger bed.”

“Alright”, Rimmer agreed a little petulantly, but he still took Lister in hand. He fumbled a little at first, but soon got into a rhythm and worked Lister’s cock with cool, hard strokes.

Lister lost himself in the sensation, enjoying the tingle of Rimmer’s fingers. When he came he came hard, seaman splattering against his own stomach and Rimmer’s hands.

As Lister recovered, Rimmer eyed him nervously. “Was that OK?”

“No Rimmer, it wasn’t OK.” Lister replied. Just as Rimmer’s face crumpled Lister grinned so wide he thought his cheeks might split. “It was fan-smegging-tastic.” He buried his face in the hologram’s neck, laughing deliriously.

“You’re a goit, you know that?” grumbled Rimmer, voice a little muffled by Lister’s embrace.

Lister pulled back, still beaming. “And you’re a smeghead, Rimmer. But I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

They kissed again, slowly and languidly. When they separated, Rimmer’s nose wrinkled as he took in the sticky sheets.

“I think we may have to move. You’ve soiled my bedspread.”

“Alright” agreed Lister. He got up reluctantly, swigging his legs over the side of the bed and hauling himself a little stiffly to his feet. “I’ll take a shower then we’ll sleep in my bunk tonight.”

Rimmer wrinkled his nose. “On second thoughts, I think I’d rather sleep in spunk than in day old puddles of vindaloo!”

“Hey!” Lister protested. “My bed is a curry free zone!”

Rimmer raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yes!” Lister said defensively. “Kryten changed the sheets this morning so the curry is all gone!”

Rimmer rolled his eyes. “You’re a disgusting slob of a human being, you know that Listy?”

“Yeah”, Lister agreed with another grin, “but you love me anyway.”

Rimmer sighed deeply. “Yes”, he said, “I do.”

**********************************************************************************

Later, as they lay spooning in Lister’s bunk, Rimmer ran a hand down Lister’s arm. It seemed insane that he could just touch Lister whenever he wanted. He still half expected Lister to turn around at any minute and reveal that it had all been a joke, then shout ‘Got you!” while Kryten and the Cat sprang out from a secret hiding place and pointed at him and laughed. But with every moment that passed it seemed a little more real, a little more solid.

“Listy?” he said softy.

“Mmmm?”

“Earlier you said something about a bigger bed. What did you mean?”

Lister yawned. “Well, it doesn’t make sense does it, us sleeping separately now that we’re together? And it seems pointless for us to share a bunk when the Captain’s quarters has an empty queen sized bed.”

“You want to move into a room where we share a bed? Like, on a permanent basis? Are you sure?” Rimmer shifted uncomfortably. “I just mean, I don’t want to rush into anything you might come to regret.”

Lister rolled over and cupped Rimmer’s cheek with his hand. “Rimmer, I know you’ve had a smeggy time in the past with relationships, but I promise that I’m never going to leave you. I love you, and I want to sleep in your arms every night and I’m not ever going to change my mind about that, OK?”

If Rimmer had a heart, it may have burst with happiness at Lister’s words. Instead he just nodded, trying to fight back the happy tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks.

And that night, for the first time in his life, Arnold Judas Rimmer (Bsc, Ssc) fell asleep with a smile on his face and not a care in the world.

#Red Dwarf #reddwarf #arnold rimmer #david lister #dave lister #kryten #holly #the cat #reddwarffanfic #red dwarf fan fic

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idk-my-aesthetic · 5 years

Text

Trapped- lena fic

When Lena was, well not small, as she’d been in a non-aging body most of her existence, but rather new, Magica had cared for her.

Magica had acted like a real guardian, comforting Lena after failed attempts to escape the shadow realm, and telling her stories of Magica’s own adventures.

Magica had even said she wanted them to get a home once they were free, and to be a family. Lena had believed her.

But misinformed people do seem to think the cat toying with its meal is cute, don't they?

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“I don’t understand.” The nameless shadow said, but she had no voice, and no mouth to speak with. It was like she had thought so loud anyone could have heard her. Perhaps everyone did.

The figure’s, her creator’s, beak twisted, into a smile that she will learn is too bright, too sweet, too kind, and hid things she will wish she had run from right in this moment.

But now she was small and innocent, only in control of her thoughts for mere minutes, and believed it when the figure said:

“I’m your Aunt Magica, dear. And you and me are going to do great things together.”

-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=

hey!! this is a wip fic im eventually gonna put on ao3 but i want it all to be one chap so ig were putting the first one here lol. sry if the formatting is bad i rarly post fics to tumblr and i think it got rid of all my bold and italics :( (i put back what i could tho) anyway please please read kjdsklakldfj

TW for child abuse!!!!

She gained consciousness all at once, overwhelmed by everything surrounding her. All of a sudden she could hear, and see, and feel, and it was awful. She wanted to cry, to scream.

It was the first time she had ever wanted anything.

She had never existed before, never been anything more than a shadow. It felt wrong, like nature itself was rejecting her creation.

And it hurt. Everything was too bright, too loud, too much. She felt like her body was on fire, pain smothering her from everywhere. Her body was melting, she realized, tearing her gaze from the near frozen battle before her to her own figure. Her form was dissolving, dripping from a vaguely duckling like shape to an amorphous blob, the glow of magic thrumming in her center.

She looked back to the fight, the birds moving as if swimming in jello, everything slowed. She watched as a figure was sucked towards a coin, anger written on the figure’s face. Something inside her pinged, and she knew. That was her creator.

She felt some obligation to help, but when she tried to she found she couldn't move, not even twitch the blurry mess of shadows that made up her fingers. What could she have done anyway? She may be sentient, but she was still a shadow, and a deteriorating one at that.

She watched, caught in a horrified trance as her creator was trapped. It seemed like hours to her, watching the woman be slowly sucked into the dime, but was probably only seconds to them. Her creator never looked at her, never acknowledged that she was brought into existence.

When the woman had finally disappeared, the shadow realized all her energy was gone. Did she even have any to begin with? She started to fade, confused and scared even as it happened, and sank into the shadow realm.

-=+=-

“Would you wake up.” A voice asked, sharp and cold. It was phrased like a question, but was so much more than just a command. It was imbued with magic so strong she couldn't have resisted if she tried.

(No matter how hard she tried.)

She had no eyes to open, but sight came to her suddenly. There was a figure standing before her, one she could vaguely recognise, despite the glowing red eyes and inky body. She realized she had a consciousness, her consciousness. It wasn’t like when she first gained a mind, going from nothing to everything. It was like she’d had thoughts of her own since her creation, but lost them when she dissolved, and only regained them at her creator’s command.

“I don’t understand.” The nameless shadow said, but she had no voice, and no mouth to speak with. It was like she had thought so loud anyone could have heard her. Perhaps everyone did.

The figure’s, her creator’s, beak twisted, into a smile that she will learn is too bright, too sweet, too kind, and hid things she will wish she had run from right in this moment.

But now she was small and innocent, only in control of her thoughts for mere minutes, and believed it when the figure said:

“I’m your Aunt Magica, dear. And you and me are going to do great things together.”

-=+=-

Aunt Magica told her things, weaved her stories of the overworld, a place she said they both belong. Magica told her the story of a wretched man who trapped them here, and of his jealousy of Magica’s power. Magica said she created her, and that they were going to find their way back to the overworld together, and that they’d be a family.

“What do you mean, a family?” She asked, her newly created beak malformed from lack of practice.

“Well, we would live in a nice little house, just the two of us. And we would cook meals there and go out on adventures. Maybe I’d even teach you some magic.” Magica had said, her voice pitched higher than normal, more controlled and precise, not that the shadow could tell. Magica’s grin sharpened, turning to her. “Would you like that?”

The shadow nodded, smiling earnestly. Or, as ernastly as she could, with her half formed figure.

“Then finish making yourself a body, alright.” Magica said, patting her on the head. “It’s only the first step in breaking us free.”

The shadow nodded, determined to make her aunt proud.

-=+=-

“Lena.”

“Hmp?” Magica blinked at her.

“I figured I needed a name, so I’d like you to call me Lena.” The shadow smiled shyly, tugging at her fingers. She was getting better at holding a form everyday, and she was slowly constructing a distinct body for herself, something she would always transform into rather than the random and different shapes she took each day. Once she had a stable and practiced form, they'd try to break out to the overworld.

Magica barked out a laugh, quickly smothering herself. Lena took a step back, her face morphing into an expression of shocked hurt and confusion.

“Oh it’s not you, something else.” Magica said, cooly covering her outburst.

“O-oh. I just-, nevermind.” Lena looked to the side, her eyebrows knit together and beak pressed tightly shut. She wasn't trying to upset you. It wasn't even about you, you’re being ridiculous. She cares about you. Just ignore it.

“Alright then, Lena.” Magica cooed, patting the shadow’s head, once again the picture perfect aunt. Lena nodded, forcing a smile on her face.

-=+=-

Lena fought with everything inside her, trying to crawl her way to the light. The shadow realm pulled back on her, wrapping itself around her in an almost comforting embrace.

She wanted to give into it. The light of the overworld burned, made her sob pure magic and heave phantom breaths of air she didn’t need.

She’d tried dozens of times before, tried to break her way out of the shadow realm. But every time she was sent back.

The light of the surface was too strong, it burnt her away, melting her back into nothing, until her only option was to retreat back to the little place she carved out for herself and let her consciousness be lost to the realm.

She would stay like that, something like what one may have called asleep, until the amulet that made her core generated enough magic to pull her consciousness back again.

But. She was almost there, almost out, inches from freedom. I’m gonna make it. She told herself, repeating it like a prayer. As if she could simply believe it into existence.

And yet, it was still too far. Her magic was running low, and it gave out before she could make it out. She faded back into the shadow realm, fated to try again.

-=+=-

Lena gained conscious blearily, disoriented. She knew this feeling, the amulet restoring her after she had dissolved and become another mindless part of the shadow realm. It was like being born for the first time all over again, no less painful, no matter how many times she experienced it. Her simulated senses picked up everything perfectly, but she forgot how to handle it, how to manage even the diluted sounds, shapes, and smells in the shadow realm.

“What the hell was that?” Magica asked, easily able to tell when the shadow ‘awoke’, her low and threatening tone making Lena cringe. Magica stood above the forming shadow, crossed arms outlined by painfully saturated red, an image Lena was unfortunately getting used to.

“I ran out of magic.” Lena looked away, guilt pooling in her core. Swirls of yellow joined the normal pink of her magic core, showing through Lena’s shaky and translucent shape, her form not yet fully recovered.

“I ran out of magic,” Magica mocked, her voice turning high and nasally. “We both know that's impossible. You’re not trying, that's where the problem is.” Her tone was harsh, cold and cutting.

“I’m trying as hard as I can, I promise I am.” Lena whispered. Magica ignored her completely, ranting over her.

“You cannot do this Lena! It took us ages to gather that much magic, who knows what century it will even be by the time we make it out of here! Do you even want to leave?”

“Of course I do!” Lena cried out.

“Do not talk over me.” Magica hissed, leaning in closer. “I have done everything for you, and this is how you repay me? I created you from nothing. I generate the magic that keeps you alive, reform you each time you disappear, I’ve taught you everything you know, and you can’t even pull yourself together enough to at least try to escape the shadow realm?”

“I am trying.” Lena’s voice cracked.

“You say that every time, and yet here we are.” Magica glared at her while Lena floundered, beak opening and closing with no words coming out, not knowing what to say.

She finally forced herself to speak. “I promise, I’ll try harder, I-” Magica held a finger up, and Lena immediately fell silent, her voice caught in her chest.

“I don’t want excuses. If you just want to stay here, then fine. I don’t need you.” Lena’s eyes widened, her core burning in her chest, like a flaming hand was grasping at it.

“I-I don’t want to stay! I want to leave with you, a-and be a family.” Lena replied desperately, terrified of Magica abandoning her. Not just because she would lose all her protection from the other shadows of the realm, but because Magica was the only thing she ever had.

Lena loved her aunt like a mother, why did Magica think she wanted to stay here? Didn’t she understand how Lena felt about her?

Didn’t Magica feel the same for her?

“Okay.” Magica said, her voice neutral.

Lena nodded shakily, curling up and pulling her knees to her chest, not looking at her aunt. Instead she studied her wispy fingers watching as the shadow knitted itself back into place. Magica studied her from where she stood, the two existing in a silence that dragged on for minutes.

“You know I only push you because I care.” Magica said, breaking the silence. She didn’t phrase it as a question.

“Yeah. I’m sorry.” Lena whispered. Magica nodded, moving away to study one of the books she’d stolen from a shade. (Shades were different from other shadows in the realm, impression of animals in the overworld that had passed. Often times they were too nice, and were easily taken advantage of. They often brought items with them from the overworld, some of the few physical things in the shadow realm.)

Lena curled tighter in on herself. She knew Magica cared, it just… didn’t feel like that sometimes. Especially after a fight. Especially when she didn’t apologize. She never apologizes, a bitter voice reminded her, but she pushed it away.

She wiped liquid magic off her face, not wanting Magica to see it leaking through her eyes.

Aunt Magica loved her. They were going to get out together, and everything would be okay. They’d be a family.

-=+=-

Almost there. So close-

Let go of me-

It burns it burns make it stop-

A booming snap sounded, and then light overcame her world.

-=+=-

Lena heaved breaths of air, air holy shit.

She made it, she was alive. She had a real body.

She grinned, laughing and falling onto her back. She was in the middle of a field, the light of the overworld for once not burning her away.

“I can’t believe it…” She mumbled, staring at the night sky. It almost reminded her of the shadow realm, unending darkness contrasted by miniscule points of light. But it was different. The darkness wasn’t all one pure black, it was broken by swirling clouds in different silvers. And the feeling of the grass on her back helped keep her grounded in the real world, not the muted darkness of the shadow realm.

She threw an arm over her face. Even the dim light of the stars and moon was harsh on her eyes, and she was exhausted. There was a reason it had taken so many tries to escape the shadow realm.

She didn’t want to sleep, scared she’d awaken back in the little den she and Magica had claimed. It would be just her luck that as soon as she got to the overworld her consciousness would be whisked back, too weak to stay in its unprotected state. But, she had not had a physical form long, and wasn’t yet used to it. She drifted off to the sound of crickets chirping in the distance, and soft grass touching her face.

Lena laid there for three days, caught in a dreamless sleep. Well, magic-over-exertion-coma was probably a more accurate way to put it, but the prospect of being able to sleep made her giddy.

When she finally awoke the sun was rising, painting the sky soft pinks and oranges. She grinned at it, smiling so hard she felt her face would split open. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

All the colors in the shadow realm were harsh, true black offset by bright colors so saturated they seemed to glow. It was the only color to be found in the whole dimension, used to define the shape of structures and bodies of creatures.

But the soft pastels of the sunset were so different from the little color she was used too. It was warm and inviting, and when she pushed herself up to look at the other colors around her, mint green grass and pale blue flowers, she felt the same warmth bubbling in her chest.

Lena shuffled her knees under her, still weak and wobbly in her new, unfamiliar, mortal body. She crawled over to a cluster of wild flowers, picking a few and rubbing the petals between her fingers. It was almost difficult to tell how they felt, the feathers not letting her have direct contact, but it was like she could still touch them, their velvety softness still registering to her.

“Weird.” She breathed a giddy laugh. She started picking more flowers, piling them in the simple dress Magica had instructed her to form for herself.

“I see you’re finally awake.” A bitter voice called out, making her jump.

“Aunt Magica…?” She looked around her, unable to see her aunt.

“Behind you.” Magica hissed. Lena looked over her shoulder, seeing the stretched out form of her aunt. She realized she had been facing directly into the sun, making her aunt appear behind her. She twisted herself around smiling nervously. Shame coiled in her stomach, guilty for upsetting the aunt who had done so much for her.

“Isn’t it great? We’re finally on the surface.”

Magica rolled her eyes, arms crossed. “No it isn’t great. Nothing is going to be great until we’ve stolen the dime from Scrooge, taken our revenge, and have my body back. And yet you’re sitting here, playing with flowers like a simpleton.”

“Sorry.” Lena mumbled, ducking her head and fisting the flowers in her lap. She willed away the burning in her eyes. This is my fault. I shouldn't have gotten so sidetracked.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Get up and start walking.”

Lena nodded jerkely, taking a deep breath. She shoved the flowers in the pockets of her dress, not yet wanting to let them go.

Ignoring Magica’s eyeroll and muttered comments, Lena slowly stood, struggling to balance herself. She clutched the sides of her dress, taking a few small steps.

“Excellent.” Magica cooed. Lena brightened for a split second, then wilted, realizing Magica was mocking her. She ignored Magica’s smirk at her mistake, pulling a flower from her pocket to wrap around her finger.

“Which way do I go?” She asked, voice small.

Magica tutted at her. “I was getting to that. Show me the amulet first, I need to be sure you didn’t ruin the one thing vital to both of our existences.”

Lena fumbled to pull the transmuted amulet out from under the front of her dress. The chain was thick, but the jewel itself was miniscule. Her heart sank. It wasn't supposed to be that small.

“I, uh… it-” She stuttered, face flaming.

“Don’t look at me like that, it’ll grow back to its correct size.” Magica waved her off, annoyed. “You’re body is made entirely of magic, once you eat something you can start generating more to replenish the amulet.” Lena’s breath hitched, her chest filling with ice.

Magica started extending herself off towards the nearest city, expecting Lena to follow. When she was halted, not able to move any farther from the motionless girl, she narrowed her eyes, yelling back at the shadow child.

“What in Hades name are you doing just standing around?” Lena mumbled something in response, too quiet for Magica to hear. The sorceress huffed, constricting back so the core of her body was once again near her “niece”.

“What?”

“Am I not real?” The girl asked, hugging herself. She felt real, and she had always thought as soon as they escaped the shadow realm she’d be a whole person. The idea that she still wasn’t real, even after ages of pain and exhaustion spent trying to escape, was crushing.

Magica dragged a hand down her face in obvious annoyance. Lena felt like she’d been punched in the gut. She should have just shut up, asked at a better time or something.

“Functionally you have a mortal, physical body, which works almost the same as anyone else’s, except its made of magic energy, not matter. The only real difference is that you can’t age, and you can use your body to generate more magic energy. That work for you?”

Lena took a shaky breath, then nodded, wiping at her face.

“Is… is t-there a way to get me a fully mortal body?” She looked at the ground, as far from Magica’s face as she could.

Magica responded after a moment, her voice easily mistaken as kind and gentle. “Of course dear, we just need to get my body back.”

Lena nodded, and began walking.

-=+=-

It took Lena a few hours to reach the city. Magica had pointed her in the direction of the nearest road, and then disappeared back to the shadow realm, trying to ration their limited magic.

But Lena was glad for the solitude. Her and Magica where almost always together in the shadow realm, cramped in their small domain. At least she had a chance to be alone for a bit.

She marveled at the things around her, collecting random rocks and leaves, sticking them in her pockets, and then examining them one at a time as she walked. Magica had educated her about the overworld as much as possible when they were generating magic between escape attempts, but hearing about it and seeing it for real were incredibly different.

But even as she experienced all these great new things, something weighed her down. Her thoughts turned back to her aunt, and what was going to happen next.

She’d always thought the second they got to the surface everything would become perfect. Magica was more aggressive recently, losing her temper easier and having less of a filter. Lena knew it was just the stress of lost time, but she’d thought once they got to the surface Magica would be relieved, instead her aunt had yelled at her for passing out.

She felt sick. Its my fault she’s so stressed out all the time anyway. What right do I have to be upset? Aunt Magica’s right, I should have tried harder…

-=+=-

Having a mortal body was odd. The first time Lena felt hungry she thought she was dying, which Magica had laughed at so hard she accidentally sent herself back to the shadow realm.

When she came back, Magica showed Lena where to get herself something to eat. Lena had bought a sandwich with the small amount of money she had taken from Magica’s safe. When they first arrived in the overworld they were at the place where the final battle had taken place, unfortunately a few hours walk from Magica’s money depository, and a several day bus ride from Duckburg.

The sandwich was literally the best thing Lena had ever experienced. She’d never eaten food before, but goddamn, mortals sure took it for granted.

She spent the next few days on the bus, a trip barely covered by the small amount of money her aunt had stashed. Magica assured Lena that when they got to Duckburg they could just take the money out of her bank account, which, uhh, didn’t end well.

Apparently showing up looking like you’ve never showered in your life and claiming you were the relative of someone who had been missing for four and a half years didn’t incline the bank to give you money. Go figure.

So. Lena was left in a big city with the physical body and mind of a thirteen year old, with no way to get food. Great.

“What are we gonna do now?” Lena asked her aunt, curled outside the Duckburg bank.

“Nothing.” Lena’s eyebrows scrunched.

“Don’t I need food though? This is kinda a problem, isn't it?”

“Obviously, but since someone couldn't convince the bank teller, there’s nothing we can do.” Magica said, uncaring.

Repressed anger flared in Lena’s chest.

“How is this my fault?” For once, there was literally nothing she could have done to make a different outcome. Trying harder wouldn't change anything when you were forcibly removed by someone three feet taller and four times wider than you.

“Do not talk back to me.” Magica hissed, eyes flashing dangerously.

Lena turned away, eyes stinging with angry tears. She tried to ignore the anger and resentment simmering in her stomach. The pool of negative emotion seemed to be growing with each day, breeding guilt that only brought more anger towards herself rather than her aunt.

It just wasn't fair. Nothing is fair. Magica’s voice rang from her mind. That doesn't mean it's not frustrating as shit.

The woman hadn't even apologized, just instructed Lena to eat tree bark. (Which technically sounds a lot worse than it is. She could ingest non digestible biomatter and turn it into magic energy that could keep her alive. Painfully hungry 24/7, but alive.)

She cares about you. She’s tough because she cares.

The words sounded hollow, ringing in Lena’s mind like a choir of too loud bells.

#lena ducktales #lena de spell #lena le strange #ducktales #ducktales 2017 #dt 17 #wip #my writing #child abuse tw

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im-a-writer-sometimes · 5 years

Text

Sorry (Spencer Reid x reader)

Request: Hello, do you have the request open? If so, I would like to ask for one, where Spencer is a boyfriend of Hotch's daughter, and all of Foyet's situation happens, and for various reasons Spencer did not say goodbye to her, so he did not know they were going to leave. I would like it to be angsty, but then everything goes well and they meet again. or if you want to do it more angsty, instead of Hayley, it is the reader who dies, Spencer sees her. that as you decide, thanks -@awesomemikaus

Warnings: death, language

A/N: I'm sorry it took me, like, twelve years to get to this request. I kept meaning to rewatch this particular episode and I kept forgetting about it. Anyway, here it is.

(this is based on 5×9, "100")

---

"How's Haley holding up?" Reid asked.

"Just about as terribly as you would imagine," you answered, clutching the phone tighter in your hand.

"And Jack?"

"He still thinks we're on some fun trip. He's just glad to be skipping school."

Reid let out a half-hearted chuckle and you let yourself smile.

"How's my dad?" You asked, your voice getting softer.

"He's doing... well, not great. But he's going to find Foyet, okay? And then we can go back to spending movie nights together and you can go back to your classes that you pretend to hate. And you can rant to me about your shitty professors. And we can be normal. This'll be over soon, okay? It'll all be over soon."

---

You were currently holding Jack in your arms, your eyes fixed on Haley's anxious frame. You whispered to Jack, trying to distract him from whatever was bothering your former step-mom. Out of nowhere, you saw her drop her phone in the trash, turning to you and Jack.

"Haley, what's going on?"

"We need to leave," she said, the words stumbling out of her mouth. "We need to go now."

"Haley, what's wrong?"

"Aaron is..." She glanced at Jack nervously, then just shook her head. "Come on. Marshall Kassmeyer has been compromised, we need to go now."

Your eyes widened and you nodded, following Haley as she rushed down the street.

---

"Haley, what are we doing in our old neighborhood?" You asked, arms gripping the armrest of Haley's car.

She didn't answer, and you tensed when she turned onto a familiar street. Your old house came into view and you furrowed your brows.

"Haley, why are we here?"

"He said it was the last place he would look," she mumbled as she pulled into the driveway and turned off the ignition. She immediately got out of the car, beckoning for Jack to follow. You hesitantly trailed behind her, towards the house you used to call home.

---

"Haley looks good with dark hair," Foyet mused. "She's lost some weight. Probably from all the stress you've caused her."

Hotch seethed silently on the other side of the phone.

"Where's the little guy? Oh, there he is. And there's your lovely daughter. Isn't she a sight for sore eyes?"

Hotch suddenly didn't care about red lights or traffic laws. All he could think about was his family.

Meanwhile, Reid was listening in, his heart hammering a million miles a minute. He kept picturing you. You smiling or laughing at some stupid remark he made. You dancing around while cooking pancakes. You singing along to some random Broadway tunes.

He had never really had room in his life for a god, but at that moment, he said the closest thing he could manage to a prayer.

---

You were seated on the couch, eyes trained on the man in your living room. He was playing chess with Jack, a crooked smirk on his ugly-ass face.

"Foyet?"

You heard your dad's voice echo through the room.

"Aaron, it's me."

You looked up to catch Haley's anxious expression, but quickly trained your eyes back on the man. You wanted to watch his every move and make sure he didn't lay a finger on Jack. If he tried to, you weren't sure that you could stop him, but you could at least try your best.

Soon enough, Jack was up and gone. Headed upstairs to 'work the case'. You knew what that meant. And you were suddenly smug. Because this asshole didn't. You may be four million steps behind in every other area, but you suddenly felt like you were one step ahead. He wouldn't lay a hand on Jack. You would make sure of it.

Suddenly Foyet was standing up, walking towards Haley. You were on your feet in seconds, standing between her and the monster walking towards her.

"I want him to know that you weren't always so serious," Haley said from behind you, voice cracking.

"No," you said, turning to look at her. "That sounds like a goodbye. This isn't a goodbye."

"Isn't it?" Foyet asked, cocking his head. "Have you not realized what going to happen, Y/N."

"Y/N," you heard your dad's voice. "You should know that Spencer is listening in on this call. He can hear you."

You turned towards Haley and she looked at you sympathetically.

"Spence? I love you, okay. I have always loved you. And I know that sounds like a goodbye, but it's not. I promise I'll see you again. But know I love you. And you too, dad. I love you so much."

"Oh, Y/N. You shouldn't make promises you can't keep." And with that, the sound of gunshots echoed through the house.

---

Spencer's heart stopped. Everything was in slow motion. The cars around him were moving a mile an hour and the tear trickling down Morgan's cheek was moving as slow as molasses. He could hear his pulse thrumming in his ears.

Then, suddenly, everything was sucked back into reality and he was in a speeding car again, next to a man holding back sobs.

He kept hearing the gunshots echoing through his head. He kept hearing your words.

I love you so much.

I have always loved you.

By the time Morgan came to a halt in the street outside the house, Reid was racing out of the car, not even bothering to close the passenger door. He pushed past the EMT's and his eyes scanned the room. Not a sign of you. He stumbled around, following a trail of bloody footprints.

Until there you were.

Laying on the carpet of the upstairs hallway.

Spencer sank to his knees beside you, feeling desperately for a pulse.

Nothing.

He tried again, thinking maybe he had missed it.

Still nothing.

His eyes found yours. Cold and empty, fixed on the ceiling above you. With shaking hands, he reached for your face, closing your eyes with his trembling fingers.

Then it hit him.

Like a fucking freight train.

You were dead.

He collapsed, his head laying on your stomach as he sobbed, cries wracking through his body. He clutched onto you, bringing your limp frame impossibly close to him. He cradled your head in his hands, watching the color slowly drain from your face.

"I love you so much. I love you so, so much," he mumbled through sobs.

Soon enough, Morgan found him, clinging to your body. He had encountered death and trauma many times in his life, but he had no idea what to say to his friend, falling apart right in front of him.

So, he placed a hand on Spencer's shoulder and uttered the first words that tumbled out of his mouth.

"I'm sorry."

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #bau #criminal minds one shot #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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alexanderhamllton · 7 years

Text

A Lovely Night (2/3) [Lin-Manuel Miranda x Reader]

PART 1

Summary: What happens when Lin’s path and yours cross while trying to make it into Broadway?

Word count: 2,568

Warnings: Alcohol mention and some light cursing. Also usage of some FLS content from 2012 even tho this story is set in 2007 oops.

A/N: PART TWO IS HERE! This took me and Nat forever to figure out and I’m so glad @down4usnavy decided to help out because her idea was amazing. I really hope you guys like it! Also part three will (hopefully) come very soon!

askbox | ren’s masterlist | nat’s masterlist

“Don’t make me physically drag you outside, [Y/N]!” Natalie barged into your room already dressed up, opening your closet and looking for something for a few seconds, throwing a yellow dress at you.

“I agreed to the party last time, I’m not going again.” You hugged your pillow and resolutely stared at her, ignoring the dress.

“But I saw you talking to a cute guy last time! And this time it’s just a bar, how bad can it be?” Natalie countered, her voice echoing in the hallway as she left your room.

You laughed into the pillow, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, a cute guy who left just as I was about to begin my rant. Total asshole.”

“Exactly!” Sabrina shouted, also already dressed up. She poked her head in your room. “Give the universe a chance to redeem itself. You’ll find that someone in the crowd this time.”

You let out an exaggerated sigh. “Fine.” You put on the dress, fixed your hair and makeup, and entered the living room to the cheers from the other girls.

“I knew you’d come through her, Nat” Sabrina grinned, taking your hand and pulling you outside. As much as you loved driving, in a cab you appreciated how you could sit back and watch the view that you could never get bored of. You were wondering how much electricity this city used to light up the neon signs at night when the cab halted and you had to hop out.

From the outside, the bar looked quite generic and non-descript. There was a chalkboard next to the entrance that said ‘Freestyle Love Supreme LIVE!’ You sighed, expecting the night to pass with second-rate live music and mediocre drinks. The inside of the bar, however, was thrumming with electricity. Everyone was talking over each other, clinking their glasses and smiling. One of the men onstage holding a mic yelled something, and laughter rippled through the audience.

“Cool place, huh?” Natalie asked, handing you a drink.

You accepted it and shrugged. “Not bad. Do you know the group that’s performing?”

She shook her head and squinted at the stage. “No idea. They seem to be freestyling, though.” She furrowed her eyebrows, listening intently. You followed her gaze and indeed, they were freestyling. About... Ramen?

“Jonathan, this is your mother!” Your jaw dropped when you hear the familiar voice. The audience laughed with the interaction between a really skinny indian dude and the guy you recognized as Lin. His impersonation was on point, so it was really hard to keep a straight face as he rapped about the dangers of going to a rooftop. But you did. No way you would give him the satisfaction after the dick-move he pulled the other night.

As the show went on, you took a seat on a far away table. As the group on stage introduced themselves, you started to add names to the faces: The indian dude? Utk. The host, Two-Touch. As he introduced the next segment, you were trying really hard not to be charmed by Lin’s crazy freestyling skills.

“Now let’s talk places. What’s your favorite place in New York City?” Two-Touch pointed the mic to the audience, that started to yell random locations such as the GWB and the Met. Your brain ran a thousand miles per hour to find somewhere, something, that would push Lin’s buttons.

“The Imperial Theatre!” You shouted. The eyes of almost everyone there were on you, and that’s when you noticed how loud your voice was. Lin’s eyes grew wider and his lips turned into a fine line before he brought the mic closer to them.

“I’ll take the Imperial.” He said, looking at you like he could poke holes in your skull.

“Okay then! Sooooo… What you know about the Imperial, the Imperial?” Two-Touch started the song and Shockwave brought the beats in the very next second, the smirk not leaving your face as Lin got ready to start his freestyle rap.

The rhymes came out of his mouth in an unbelievable speed. As he spit verses about the Imperial’s history and how many amazing shows ran there, one verse, the last verse, ringed a bell: “But that theater won’t be a symbol of my failure, just a reminder that i can be my own saviour.”

You raised your eyebrows while slow-clapping at him, getting a smile in response. As the show progressed, his verses got better and better. He’d look at you after every rhyme he was proud of, almost like he was checking if you were impressed by his skills.

You were, but he didn’t need to know that.

The performance ended with applauses and cheering from the audience, but you stood there only with a smile, clapping discreetly while the other girls were giving FLS an standing ovation, motivated mostly by the alcohol in their bodies. You, in the other hand, were as sober as always, too distracted to even touch your glass. If Lin-Manuel wanted a game, that’s what you were going to play.

The group came off stage straight to the bar, being stopped a few times for pictures and compliments. They were almost a small gang, but everyone was be able to see they were capable of doing really big things in the future. As they ordered his drinks, Lin spotted your table once again, taking his drink -and his friends- with him when he decided to approach you.

“Party girl, hey!” He chanted, making your roommates giggle.

“You’re probably the first person that called her that, like, ever.” Sabrina commented, and you slapped her arm playfully, but giving her a dirty look. “What? It’s true.”

“Whatever.” You mumbled for her, before turning to Lin with a fake smile. “Hi, guy that left me talking to myself the other night!”

“Ouch, that had to hurt.” The guy you recognized as Utk had his arm around Lin’s shoulder, the other hand already occupied with a glass of something from the bar. “I couldn’t help but notice you lovely ladies from the stage. Does any of you want to dance?”

Natalie looked at you with like someone who asks permission, and apparently the eye roll you did was understood as encouragement. “See you later, girls!”

“So, I think it’s only fair for me to ask you a dance.” Lin said, offering his hand with a smirk on his face.

“Oh, sadly I can’t because… Because I’m going to dance with Sabrina!”

“Wait, what?” The confused look on your friends face made Lin’s eyebrows rise, but you didn’t stutter.

“Yeah, you promised a dance! Let’s go.” You held her hand, obligating her to leave the half-full drink at the table. “See ya!”

As you pulled Sabrina through the mass of people all the way to the dance floor, you could feel his eyes on your back, and you weren’t sure how that made you feel. But you didn’t care.

At least that’s what you initially thought.

While the beat of the songs made you move your trained body in the rythm, your eyes would always snap back to the bar, where Lin was absently chatting with his friends, but his eyes were on you every once in awhile. You knew because you were checking on him too. Two songs went by and Sabrina was not having any of your games. “Go talk to him!”

“What? No!” You held her hand for a second, and she squeezed before letting go. “I won’t go there, Sab.”

“[Y/N], then go home! He’s clearly on your head by now, you’re not having fun anymore.”

“Of course I am!” You quickly replied, not being able to face her while saying the blatant lie. “Okay, maybe you’re right. I’ll go home.”

“But we’re splitting a cab!”

“Here.” You opened your purse, giving her 10 bucks you gained from tips during the week. “I’ll take the subway, I’ll be fine.”

“Whatever you say. Be safe!”

“Always!” You answered, already leaving the dance floor and heading to the door. The summer breeze hits you, together with the rush of people and cars that never seem to stop in New York City. You walk halk a block before hearing a familiar voice behind you:

“Hey!” You stop walking for a second and look back, not bothering to completely turn around. “Hey, I didn’t get a chance to catch your name.”

“Well you were pretty okay with that the other night so...” You started to walk again, but this time he was right next to you.

“You see, I wasn’t. Like at all, it sucked that I came back to the balcony and you weren’t there anymore.”

“I waited for you but then I had to go home and move on with my life!” You replied dramatically, rising your brows and getting a head tilt in response.

“Waited what? Fifteen minutes?”

“Forty five.” You said, now having the subway entrance on your line of vision and stopping for second, Lin almost out of breath for following your quick pace. “You see, I’d love to stay in the middle of the street and talk, except I don’t. So, if you excuse me-”

“Okay, wait a second.” You stopped mid-motion, taking a deep breath before turning to him again, arms crossed and ready to listen. “First, can you please tell me your name?”

“[Y/N]. [Y/L/N].” You replied, trying to hide a smile that was beginning to grow on your face. You were an actress, you had to keep it together.

“Nice to meet you, [Y/N], I’m Lin.” He replied, offering his hand for the second time that night.

“Lin, I know who you-”

“Please? Can you just… Go with it?” He snapped, and you shook his hand after rolling your eyes. He was ridiculous. “Nice, firm handshake. Okay, so where are you going this late at night?”

“Uh… Home. I live in NoHo so it’s just a subway ride away.” You pointed to the subway entrance by the end of the block.

“No way, me too!” His hand flew to his chest in surprise, and you couldn’t help but feel there was something wrong there. “We can go together, I walked too far from the bar for me to come back anyway”.

“Okay… Will your friends be okay?” You asked, now walking a bit slower than before towards the station.

“They’ll be fine, don’t worry.” You nodded, not noticing you stopped walking to stare at him for a second. “Let’s go?”

As you went down the stairs to the subway station you noticed the lack of people there and mentally thanked Lin for being there with you. Not that you would actually thank him, you were too proud for that. Entering the subway car, Lin motioned for you to take one of the very few empty seats, choosing to stay hanging next to you. Two stops later, the person next to you left and he joined you on the seat.

The ride went smoothly, you made small comments about the other night and that started a whole ramble from his part about the musical he wrote about the neighborhood he grew up and how close it was from being done. You both laughed at how mad he was when you reminded him of the Imperial Theatre fiasco and you had to give him props for turning into a killer freestyle rap. He asked you about what you did, and you explained the whole “small town girl that went to New York to chase her actress dreams and became a barista” cliche. He found it inspiring, somehow. “Since when lattes are inspiring?”

“Since the beginning of time, [Y/N]. God only knows how many times caffeine saved my ass from writer’s block.” You giggled at his answer as the subway announced your stop. How long have you two talked?

“This is us.” You got up and he went right behind you, all the way to outside the station. The night got colder from when you entered the subway, making you hug yourself while walking beside Lin towards your building. You were looking down when you felt his jacket falling over your shoulders. “Thanks”

“No problem.” His smile was translated to his words, and you couldn’t help but smile too.

“So, where do you live?” You asked, turning your face to him.

“Uh, a couple blocks that way, but I can… You know, get you home first.” He shrugged.

“Oh, okay.”

You both walked side by side, not minding the silence. It was a comfortable silence, just knowing he was there and you weren’t getting home by yourself. When you both got to your building, you stopped by the porch and got up the steps as he waited in the sidewalk for you to get in safely. When you opened the door, you turned at him, smiling before he nodded and turned around, back to the same route you walked together.

Your hand hesitated in the doorknob for a few second before turning to the street, looking for the dark haired guy: “Lin!”

He turned to you the same second, the streetlights shadowing his face but not hiding his smile. “Yeah?”

“Your jacket.” You replied, removing the piece from yourself and hanging on your fingers. He quickly walked back to you, taking the jacket from your hands. “And I didn’t get your phone number.”

“Oh. That’s true.” You opened your purse, taking your phone and handing to him with the ‘new contact’ page open. He did the same thing with his. “So… Goodnight [Y/N].”

“Goodnight Lin, take care.” He chuckled before mimicking a hat tip and returning to his path back home.

Little did you know the path was a little longer than you imagined.

Once he noticed you got in, he rushed back to the subway station, you see, he couldn’t miss the last train back to his neighborhood, in Washington Heights.

He would never admit that, but he liked you from the moment he first saw you on that balcony, the neon lights from the building across the street illuminating your features as you gave him sassy comebacks and joined him on his sorrow. He never thought he’d see you again.

But he did, and you were just as bitter, he needed a way to get to know you. So he lied to make sure you wouldn’t refuse his offer to take you home, and boy he didn’t regret it one bit. The moment he got into the subway car heading to Heights, his phone buzzed from the back pocket of his jeans.

From: [Y/N] Got home safe?

He smiled to the text before typing a reply.

To: [Y/N] You see, funny story, I don’t live in NoHo.

To: [Y/N] I live in the Heights.

His bit his lips watching the speech bubble go on for a second before turning into your reply.

From: [Y/N] Please tell me it’s Morningside Heights and you don’t have to cross the city.

To: [Y/N] Nope, Washington Heights.

From: [Y/N] You’re crazy. And i’m going to sleep, text me when you get home safe.

To: [Y/N] Ok. Sweet dreams, don’t let the monsters catch you!

From: [Y/N] You’re insane.

He laughed at your reply before facing the almost empty train. Maybe he was going crazy, but for some reason it didn’t feel scary at all.

#lin manuel miranda #lin manuel miranda x reader #lin manuel x reader #lin manuel miranda imagine #hamilton imagine #hamilcast imagine #hamwriters #my writing #a lovely night #hamilbye

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