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bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years

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Merlin Scar Reveal Part 2(final part)

Merlin tries to pretend nothing happened, Arthur says “that’s stupid.”

Part 1

Merlin’s nightmares last for the rest of the afternoon and extend well into the night.

The heat certainly doesn’t help, and it takes all of Gaius’ effort to keep his temperature low enough to not boil him from the inside out, but he manages with help from the knights. Mordred and Lancelot refuse to leave the servant’s side of course, but the others loiter in the corridor the entire time, and take turns sprinting to the cold store and kitchens for ice water and cloths.

It was difficult to stand there waiting, being given scraps of information on Merlin’s condition, especially when most of the scraps consist of something along the lines of “Hopefully he’ll snap out of it by the morning.”, which was certainly not helped when the occasional whimper floated out to them from the young servant’s room.

After a few hours, Leon was the one to draw the short straw to go and talk to Arthur. Whilst all of them were mildly miffed that Arthur had pushed Merlin so far, they knew that ultimately, it was all of their faults. All of them had pushed him, and none of them had protected him from being injured in the first place. None of them knew how much he had suffered, was still suffering. Considering Arthur’s... extra feelings for his servant, it was no wonder he’d reacted even worse than the others.

The First Knight agrees to go, knowing he had the best chance of talking some sense into The King, though he refuses to leave until he sees each of the others settle in their beds; it had been a long day, and would likely be an even longer day tomorrow. They all need as much sleep as they can get.

Arthur doesn’t answer when Leon knocks on his door, but the knight lets himself in after a few moment regardless, doing so quietly so as not to startle the man if he was asleep or, more likely, deep in thought.

The King was sat at his desk, chin resting on his hands, and Leon has to stamp down the surge of protective adrenaline in his lungs when he sees the dry tear tracks on the younger man’s face. He doesn’t notice Leon’s presence, not even when he very deliberately clears his throat, so the knight walks over to him slowly, rapping his knuckles harshly on the desk. That finally catches Arthur’s attention, and he looks up with a start, hands reaching for the sword that Leon knows he has hidden under the desk.

The King lets out a deep breath and relaxes back in his seat when he sees that it’s just Leon, hastily wiping his eyes before clearing his throat and looking up with a fake confidence:

“Sir Leon, what can I do for you?”

Leon just raises an eyebrow, but when Arthur holds strong and doesn’t react he lets out a deep sigh and collapses into the seat on the other side of the desk:

“Come on, Arthur. We need to talk about this.”

Arthur gulps, trying to keep his unaffected façade up, but failing and dropping it after only a few moments; something about the soft, overly concerned look Leon was giving him made him want to wrap himself in blankets and sob himself to sleep. He frowns and just about manages to keep the tears in:

“Why wouldn’t he tell me? If not about the physical scars, then about all the times he’s been hurt. Does he not think I would’ve given him time to recover? Or, God forbid, helped him?”

Leon purses his lips slightly in thought, still having to make a concerted effort not to gather The King up in a tight hug as he considers his questions:

“I don’t think it’s about you, Arthur. Merlin is... a private person by nature, and he doesn’t like worrying people. You heard Mordred, he and Lance found out by accident, and even then Merlin tried to keep them away from it as long as possible.”

Arthur stands, the guilt and sadness in his gut now frothing with anger as well. He paces around to the centre of the room and Leon stands to watch him carefully:

“He can say it’s not about me as much as he wants, but I’m The King, Leon,-”

He whirls on the knight, and Leon clenches his jaw, resisting the urge to raise a mocking eyebrow. He knew to expect anger at some point, but that doesn’t mean Arthur was entitled to it:

“-I have a right to know what’s going on in my Kingdom. I should’ve been informed of Nimueh and Morgause’s deaths, I should’ve been informed that Cenred was torturing people for information. How many other countless adventures has Merlin had that have put himself, Me, the Kingdom in danger, simply because he didn’t want people to know much about him?? None of that was his call to make.”

Leon does raise an eyebrow at that, but Arthur was too busy furiously pacing to feel scolded quite yet. The older man crosses his arms and huffs slightly, waiting for The King to calm before responding:

“Be that as it may, that’s not why you’re angry. You can lie to yourself, Arthur, but you can’t lie to me, and you certainly shouldn’t lie to Merlin. If you go to him pretending that you’re angry because he put the Kingdom at risk, and not because you’re heartbroken at him having suffered so much, then he’ll never forgive you. And when you realise that, you’ll never forgive yourself.”

Arthur looks to Leon sharply, but the anger drains from his face within seconds and his whole body sags slightly, the exhaustion of the day having caught up to him. A glance to the now dark window tells him that it’s well into the evening, but he can’t find it in himself to be annoyed at the unfinished paperwork on his desk or the hunger in his stomach from not having eaten since before noon, not when he knows Merlin is being tortured by nightmares and injuries that have long since healed. Injuries that he should never have had in the first place. Leon waits patiently for Arthur to respond:

“I don’t want him to be in pain. I just want to help him.”

His cracking admission has Leon give up on holding himself back, and he strides towards The King to pull him into a tight embrace. Arthur tenses at first, but quickly falls into the older man’s affection, accepting a hug for the first time since he was a child. Leon responds softly, aware that he only had a short time before Arthur pulled away and put his walls back up:

“Merlin’s already in pain, Arthur, but that doesn’t mean we can’t now help him.-”

He feels Arthur nod into his shoulder and squeezes the man tighter for a moment before pulling back, keeping a tight grip on The King’s shoulders:

“Come on, you need to get some sleep.”

Arthur’s tired, longing gaze moves to the paperwork spread haphazardly over his desk, and Leon shakes his head, tugging Arthur’s shoulders so he looks back at him:

“No, work isn’t an option, your mind is not in any sort of state to be productive right now. You’re exhausted, Arthur, a few hours of sleep will do you some good; I hate to say it but The Kingdom won’t stop needing attention whilst we... sort through this, and you’ll need the energy tomorrow.”

Arthur shakes his head, stepping back and rubbing his eyes tiredly as he takes a deep breath and straightens his back. Leon steps back as well, re-introducing the respectful distance that should be between a King and his Knight, waiting for Arthur’s no doubt stoic response:

“The councilmen will survive without me for a day or two, if not then that really should be something I’m made aware of so I can get to replacing them. Merlin and I need to...-”

He cuts himself off and clears his throat:

“-has there been any news? Any change?”

Leon shakes his head, but catches Arthur’s wrist when he begins walking towards the door:

“Arthur. I just about managed to convince everyone else to get some sleep and you need it more than them.-”

Arthur looks back indignantly, failing to portray his Kingly Anger in his exhaustion and looking more like a scolded child:

“-You know I’m right. Get some sleep, Gaius will inform you if anything changes.”

For a moment, it looks like Arthur wants to argue, but he quickly lets out a deep, bone weary sigh, nodding before moving sluggishly towards his bed. Leon nods approvingly, muttering a soft “Goodnight, My Lord” and smiling slightly at Arthur’s hummed response before quietly exiting the chambers.

Arthur can convince himself, for a few blissful seconds, that it was all a bad dream when he wakes up the next morning.

His curtains are thrown wide open; the sunlight streams in and forces The young King to groan and roll over, attempting to shield his eyes from the brightness. Merlin’s cheery voice echoes throughout the various chambers:

“Come on, Sire, up and at ‘em!”

Arthur just grumbles a slurred “Fuck off.” before his brain wakes up and he throws himself from the bed, thankfully wearing sleep clothes but only just managing to catch himself on the bedside table before he falls over:

“Merlin!! What the hell are you- are you ok?! Did Gaius say you could get up?!”

Merlin looks back at him with the same disapproving, mocking glare he usually uses in the morning; Arthur is taken aback at the darkness in his eyes. He can’t quite decide if it made it’s first appearance this morning, or if it had always been there and he just hadn’t noticed. He doesn’t know which idea he hates more:

“I’m fine, Arthur, no need to worry about me. And for your information, I’m a fully trained physician, I don’t need Gaius telling me what I can and can’t do.-”

He rolls his eyes and turns to The King’s desk with a huff, gesturing at the mess:

“-It’s flattering that you rely on me so much Arthur, but really, this is ridiculous.”

Arthur is finally broken out of his shocked stupor, shaking his head disbelievingly and taking a few short steps towards his manservant. He goes to yell but quickly backtracks, snapping his mouth shut and taking a deep breath before trying again, softly this time:

“Merlin... we have to talk about yesterday.”

Merlin’s reaction is immediate and harsh. The quill that he had picked up from Arthur’s desk snaps in his sudden tight grip and the tension in his shoulders is painful looking. He freezes for just a moment before forcing himself to relax, casually throwing the broken quill into a waste basket before continuing to organise the desk, refusing to look up at The King:

“No, we really don’t. I’m fine, My Lord.”

The lack of sarcasm or sass in Arthur’s title worries The King greatly, but the way Merlin regains more and more of the tension in his shoulders the closer Arthur walks to him is even more worrying:

“Merlin... look at me.-”

The servant gulps, biting his lip at he stares at the desk for a few more moments before forcing himself to look up. He recoils slightly at the tears in Arthur’s eyes, but doesn’t allow himself to look away. Arthur opens his mouth to say something, but is interrupted by the door to his chambers opening with a bang as Mordred and Lancelot rush in. They’re both red-faced and panting, speaking at the same time:

“I swear to the Gods if he snuck out of bed to work, I’ll-”

“I apologise My Lord, I don’t suppose you’ve seen-”

They both freeze as they see Merlin stood behind Arthur’s desk, paperwork crumpled in his tight grip and face fallen into a annoyed frown. Arthur throws his hands up, frustrated as he paces and mumbles:

"Just... come in why don’t you. No, don’t worry about knocking just run on in like you own the damn place.”

Lancelot spares him a quick glance but locks the door behind him and crosses his arms like an angry mother as he looks to the irate servant:

“Merlin, we’ve talked about this, you’re meant to take the morning off after a bad night, Gaius says-”

Merlin just rolls his eyes and turns away, interrupting Lancelot’s scolding as he continues to tidy around the room, his annoyance evident in his harsh tone and hurried movements:

“I’m a physician too, and I say I’m fine. I would like to just... get on with things, please.”

Arthur has to stop himself from recoiling at the way Lance and Mordred’s faces fall, the pain and grief sadder than anything he’s ever seen in their expressions before. He takes a moment to think before giving the two of them a pointed look and quietly asking:

“Can you give us a minute?”

Lancelot looks doubtful, but willing. Mordred plants his feet and crosses his arms, raising an eyebrow. He doesn’t say anything, but it’s obvious he has no intention of leaving Merlin’s side; as much as Arthur finds that admirable on a personal level, as King it’s unacceptable. He’s normally not a fan of pulling rank among friends, but maybe that’s because he normally doesn’t need to. Perhaps this whole mess was his fault, Mordred obviously felt so, but Arthur could hardly fix it with them glaring over his shoulder. He raises himself to his full height, a good few inches above Mordred, and uses the tone of voice he normally reserves for particularly difficult councilmen:

“You forget whose presence you are in, Sir Mordred, you’d do well to remember again. You are both dismissed.”

Mordred’s eyes go wide and he takes in a sharp breath, but after a quick glance to Merlin’s turned back he dutifully bows and walks from the room stiffly. Lancelot’s postures straightens as well, and he follows Mordred after a confident:

“We’ll be in Gaius’ chambers should you require anything, My Lord.”

Merlin was oblivious to the conversation, though Arthur reckons he was deliberately ignoring it as opposed to being actually unaware, especially with the way the servant’s shoulders relax when the door shuts behind the second knight.

Arthur sighs as Merlin continues to putter around the room, refusing to look him in the eye; he leans against the edge of the desk and crosses his arms:

“Merlin,-”

His voice is soft, but the servant still doesn’t look at him, giving a non-committal hum as he clears out the hearth with shaking hands:

“-come here, please.”

Merlin freezes for just a moment, and if the problem wasn’t so glaringly the context of the situation, Arthur may have been able to fool himself into believing that Merlin was just shocked he said please. The younger man stands slowly, turning to walk towards Arthur with his gaze stuck to the floor. He stops with about five feet of space between them and Arthur sighs again, closing the gap until only a few inches separates them. The King ignores the tears gathering in both of their eyes as he lifts a hesitating hand, dropping it softly on Merlin’s shoulder only when the servant doesn’t flinch away:

“Merlin, I... you mean a great deal to me, and I know I don’t say that often enough, or at all, really. You... look after me, keep me alive and unhurt, evidently more than I had originally thought. You make me a good King, and a better man.-”

Merlin looks up at him sharply and Arthur can tell that he’s about to argue, so he squeezes his shoulder and quickly hurries on:

“-You’ve been hurt, you’ve suffered in your service to me, and that’s unacceptable but it’s also my fault; I should’ve made it clear that I would protect you from anything. These scars prove your strength, but I understand not wanting to acknowledge them, so I promise I will never ask again. You tell me when you’re ready, and if that’s never, then that’s completely fine.-”

Merlin seems surprised by the promise, and the tears slowly dripping from his wide eyes just make Arthur regret yesterday even more. After a second or two of shock, Merlin visibly relaxes, relieved with the knowledge that he doesn’t have to expect the conversation that he really doesn’t want to have. Arthur gives him a weak smile before continuing:

“-I’m sorry, but I’m also grateful. Thank you, Merlin. But...-”

Merlin re-tenses at the “but” and Arthur squeezes his shoulder again, giving him what he hopes is a reassuring smile:

“-please don’t keep doing this alone. I... I don’t expect you to ask me for help, though I would drop anything in a heartbeat to keep you safe. Even... even if it’s Gwaine, just... I don’t want you disappearing off to save the Kingdom only to never come back again because no one knows where you are.”

Merlin smiles weakly at the disdain in Arthur’s voice when he mentions Gwaine, but quickly frowns again and looks at the floor. He gaze stays lowered when he asks his one word question, his voice quiet and ragged:

“Anything?”

Arthur frowns for a second, confused about what Merlin was asking, but quickly realises, lifting the other man’s chin with his hand, his voice a whisper:

“Merlin, I would give up the Kingdom to rid you of the burden you’ve place upon yourself. I just want you safe and happy and by my side.”

Merlin once again looks like he wants to argue, but a quiet sob falls from his mouth instead and Arthur, damning the consequences and his stupid reputation, pulls the younger man into a tight hug, cradling his head into his shoulder and running a soft hand up and down his back. A few tears of his own slip free but he finds he doesn’t care that much as Merlin shakes in his arms; he presses a barely-there kiss to Merlin’s temple and begins swaying slightly on the spot, wanting more than anything to take away his servant’s pain.

Merlin’s cries slow to a stop after what feels like hours, but Arthur doesn’t let go quite yet, eyeing the unmade bed over Merlin’s shoulder with eagerness, knowing that neither he nor Merlin had slept well last night. He feels Merlin stifle yawn against his shoulder and that just strengthens his resolve; he squeezes the younger man to get his attention and then speaks quietly:

“Reckon the council can survive without me later?”

Merlin clears his throat and responds, but still doesn’t let go:

“Doubtful, but Leon and Morgana could probably whip them into shape. Why?”

Arthur nods and pulls back, frowning at the slight panic in Merlin’s eyes when he steps away but doesn’t mention it, letting his hand slide down from the servant’s shoulder to grip his hand. Merlin visibly relaxes, but still looks confused as Arthur tugs him towards the bed gently; he allows himself to be pushed to sit on the edge and looks up at Arthur questioningly. The blond stops himself from grinning widely at the trust in his expression, instead turning away to shut the curtains and lock the door as he says:

“Shoes and belt off, I fancy a nap, how about you?”

He was expecting an argument, so he's surprised when he turns back to the bed to see Merlin softly smiling as he sets his shoes and belt on the bedside table neatly. They both climb under the covers wordlessly, and Merlin doesn’t hesitate to curl into Arthur’s side when he holds his arms out to him.

The King holds his servant close, tucking his head against his chest and burying his chin in his soft hair, his arms wound around Merlin tightly. Merlin closes his eyes without issue, finding himself unafraid of the darkness or the nightmares or the firm touch against his back for the first time since his collection of scars began.

The warrior sleeps, plagued by nothing but pleasant dreams and the warmth of a protection he knows he can trust.

THE END!!

That took me FOREVER to write, writer’s block really does suck, but I’m glad I finally got it finished. I feel like it’s a little underwhelming, but I hope y‘all like it :)

@1stbonesfan asked to be tagged! <3

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krispytidalwavesheep · 3 years

Text

Hopes and Dreams III

.I am not entirely sure about this chapter, if I’m completely honest, so I’ll probably rewrite it at a later time. If you want to get added to the taglist just let me know! Thanks for your continuos support with this fic, it honestly gives me so much life right now! *** Chapter 3

“There seem to still be a few things you haven’t seen.” Lady Dimitrescu stated after you reached the sitting room.

“It’s not everyday that you see girls turn into a swarm of bugs. I’ve seen a lot, but I never said I have seen everything.”

“Which brings me to the question that I want answered. What are you? My first guess would be that you are a vampire, like me and my daughters, but I have a feeling that that isn’t true. Sit down please, so that I can take a look at your wound.” Her tone brooked no argument, so you did as you were told and rolled up the leg of your pants. You winced when you saw the true extend of the damage. Even with enhanced healing it would take a few hours to properly heal.

“My biological father was a scientist, who researched a lot of occult and supernatural topics. He was also a massive asshole who thought it okay to experiment on his own baby daughter, so there’s that. I don’t know how, but someone he got his hands on the DNA of some creature no one really has a name for, but I have a guess. The only thing he really knew, was that they are like Vampires, but much more powerful.

He injected me with the DNA when I was four, but nothing happened, so I was deemed a failure. He did all kinds of tests on me, to see if the DNA would activate, but it didn’t. At least not until he tried to kill me. I was no stranger to torture after he failed, but that night I knew he came to finish it. I was 10, and I was scared and angry, so much so, that something in me broke. There wasn’t much left of him after I was finished.

I’ll spare you most of the details of what happened after, since it is not relevant for what you want to know, and I hate the feeling of being exposed when I don’t know if I can trust the person in front of me. I ran away and my benefactor found me and took me in. I don’t know how, but somehow, he knew what I had become, and he took it upon himself to make sure that I got the best training I could get. I can somewhat use my enhanced abilities, but I am not completely awakened. I’ll get to that part shortly.

After 6 years I was deemed ready to repay the favor and got sent on a hunt for rare artifacts, as I mentioned earlier. I was free to research my condition whenever the opportunity arose, and I did. I traveled the whole world, met all kinds of creatures and people, yet no one could help me with my predicament. That was until 8 months ago, when I found the first real clue. But that clue came with a price and I have been cursed.

I still don’t have a name for the creature that I have become, but I found an old text that explained a lot to me. My kind won’t fully awaken until they bond themselves to another being, that has roughly the same power that we have. That’s where the curse made things more complicated: If I try to bond with anyone that isn’t my destined mate, I will die. Slowly and painfully.

And if that isn’t enough, the curse took the ability to sense my mate away from me, at least in the traditional sense. Usually, we will know our mate by smell alone, for their blood will sing to us like nothing else ever could. We would feel a strong pull towards them, and they to us, for our blood will be just as exquisite to them, as theirs is to us. The curse took that ability away from me, and now I am destined to walk the earth, waiting for my mate to find me.

Another side effect is what I call ‘boiling blood’. When I feel threatened enough it will activate and temporarily awaken me. I can’t control it though, and that is the problem. It only happened once so far, and that was when someone I care a great deal for, got hurt. But I have it under control for the most part. I just don’t like it when people I care about get hurt, I lost myself even before the curse happened. And I do understand if you deem me to dangerous and kick me out of the castle. You wouldn’t be the first one.” You ended lamely and sighed. It always took a lot out of you when you talked about the past.

“You mentioned that you have a theory about what exactly you are?” Alcina asked and gently patted your dressed wound. You suppressed the gentle shiver that wanted to roll down your body and said, “I think I am a Vampire, but one of the first generation.”

***

“And what makes you think that?” Alcina asked carefully. You pondered that for a moment, her eyes never leaving you. She could see that it took a toll on you to tell her all that, and she could understand that. Admitting what had happened couldn’t be easy, especially when there was the possibility that you would be thrown out or worse. Alcina didn’t plan on doing either of those things though, and she would tell you soon enough. An idea was forming in her head.

“I read a lot about vampires and had my fair share of encounters, none of them as nice as the one with you, so I figured it must be something like that. Whenever a Vampire turns someone, a miniscule part of their DNA gets implanted in the one they’ve turned. That is why your Maker will always be stronger than you. But since I got way more DNA with fathers’ experiments, it could mean that I am the first person who got turned into a Vampire of the first generation. And if not first, then second, which would still be infinitely more powerful than a Vampire of third or fourth generation. Although I can’t be sure, since I destroyed everything that could give me a clue, when I killed my father.” You said silently, looking at the floor. Alcina couldn’t help but feel pity for you. A bad hand was dealt to you, and you just tried to live your life. She also admired how strong and confident you were, even after all that had happened.

“I have an offer for you.” Alcina said and put two fingers under your chin to make you look at her, ignoring your blush.

“Stay here. You have nowhere else to go, right? You fascinate me and I want to know more about your abilities if you are willing to show me. And I could use a hand to help me in the castle’s upkeep. But make no mistake, my dear. As soon as you show me that you become a threat, I will dispose of you. What do you say?” Alcina asked, but she knew your answer already. She could see it in the softening of your eyes and the spark of hope that flickered in your eyes. You gently nodded and gave her the most brilliant smile she had ever seen. Both of you briefly wondered where that feeling of trust came from, you more than Alcina, but for the moment it was enough.

***

A weird sense of coming home fell over you, when you looked into her eyes, that had gentled with your consent. She could probably kill you with a snap of her fingers, but somehow you got the feeling that she wouldn’t. Most people feared you when you told them what you were, not all of them humans either. But she gave you the feeling of safety, no matter what your nature was, and you wondered. Could she be the one that was fated to be with you? Or was that just wishful thinking, because she showed you kindness where everybody else would only show you fear and hatred? You were immensely attracted to her, that’s for sure, but could she be the one?

“I want to see the full extend of your abilities as fast as possible if you don’t mind. If it is alright with you, I would arrange a little sparring session between you and my daughters.” Lady Dimitrescu said and took a seat on the chaise lounge in front of you.

“I wouldn’t mind. It has been far too long since someone has offered me a challenge, so I will gladly accept, my Lady. My wound should be fully healed by tomorrow, so we can start first thing if you’d like,” you offered, eager to show her what you were capable of. Maybe she will keep you around for longer if you show her that you would be a valuable asset to her castle.

“I would like that very much, my dear. But now is time for you to eat and rest, as it is rather late. The day has been rather long and eventful, not just for you.”

“Of course, my Lady,” you smile and as if on cue, the door to the sitting room opened and one of the daughters entered the room with two plates. You hadn’t even realized how hungry you were until the smell of the food hit your nostrils. The two of you ate in companionable silence, and soon enough it was time to leave her presence for the night.

The guest room she showed you was like nothing you have ever slept in before. You were used to all sorts of places to sleep, but never have you seen a bed so big and comfortable looking.

“Good Night, my dear. I hope you sleep well,” Lady Dimitrescu said and left you to your own devices before you could answer her. You dressed down to your tank top and shorts and fell into a peaceful slumber as soon as your head hit the pillow.

***

When you next opened your eyes, you were surrounded by the familiar darkness of your dreamscape, yet something felt different. You could sense a presence at the edge pf your consciousness and soon enough, a gentle voice spoke to you “So you finally found her.”

“Huh?” you asked into the darkness, chills running down your spine. The voice giggled and a shadow crept into the edge of your vision, which soon turned into a girl, that oddly enough, had somewhat of a resemblance to you.

“Who are you?”

“You’ll have to find that our for yourself. But what matters is, that you have finally found her. My Alcina,” the girl said and looked close to tears, although she was still smiling.

“Don’t get me wrong, but I don’t think that Lady Dimitrescu belongs to anyone.” You said, defensive of the Lady. That made the girl laugh again, and you couldn’t get over the fact that she looked so much like yourself.

“You are right. But she was mine, as I was hers, a long time ago. Listen, the castle’s magic is strong, but not strong enough to give me enough time to explain everything. Just trust me, okay? Stay by her side, no matter what. Protect her. But most important: Take care of yourself. She lost us too many times already, but maybe you are the one that will break this hellish circle.”

“I-I don’t understand!” you said desperately, trying to reach for the girl, but she was already fading.

“We will speak to each other again when the time is right. Until then, remember my words. Please protect her. Do what we couldn’t do and survive.” Were her parting words before you awoke, drenched in cold sweat. What the fuck was that?

But no matter how hard you tried to grasp at your dream and its implications, you felt your consciousness fading and fell back into a deep slumber.

***** Taglist: @imdreamingblo @x-x-trixxster-k-m-w-x-x

#lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu

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hillnerd · 3 years

Note

For the ship and word game: Harry/Ginny, snitch ♥️

Thanks for the prompt! Hinny as parents - James is twelve. :)

SNITCH

It was December and so it was a cold grey day. There was no other kind of day in Scotland in December.

Despite the rather miserable weather, Ginny was jubilant as she trudged through the snow towards the familiar Quidditch pitch, red sweater on under her thick winter coat.

James had sent a letter late in the night. It was barely legible, and mentioned something about Quidditch. The follow-up letter from Teddy helped clarify things. James was in the reserves for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and was getting to fly his first game thanks to a chaser getting a bad case of Fwooper Flu.

No one had ever come to her games at Hogwarts as her mother had never been comfortable Apparating and couldn’t spare the Floo powder, while their father was always busy at work. It wasn’t something she particularly resented, but looking back she would have liked them to see her and cheer her on for her games.

Harry was off on a mission, but Ginny could spare the time, and was happy to get a chance to see James playing his first ever game. It was strange being back at Hogwarts after so many years. She’d been back a few times for memorials back in the early 2000’s, but it had been over a decade since then, and much had changed. In some ways it was the same- the Quidditch pitch didn’t look all that different, but the pathways to it had changed, the seating, and she was having trouble finding the locker room.

“Ginny!” she heard a voice call, and saw Neville waving in the crowd. She enthusiastically waved and jogged over.

“Hey Nev!” She smiled and gave a hug.

“Here to see James?”

“Yes! Though, I’ve not clue where the locker rooms are! Where’d they move them to?”

“Ah! Those are on the South side now. The old ones had a lot of old spell damage and got torn out, oh, five year ago now?” he explained, leading the way to the locker room.

She could hear the sounds of teens excitedly gearing up for the game.

The team were mostly students Teddy and Victoire’s ages, if she had to guess by the look of them. James, by comparison, looked tiny and pale. He was bouncing both his legs as he sat at his bench, hands running through his hair. He was already with uniform and pads on, while the rest of the team were more languorous in getting their pads in place.

She’d been exactly the same her first match as a Harpie.

“Knock knock,” she said, fully entering the room. The teens quieted down seeing there was an adult in the room, while James shot to his feet.

“Mum!” James cried out with a smile, before carefully schooling it to a much cooler nonchalant look. “Erm, what are you doing here?”

“Came to see your first big game, of course,” she laughed.

“Oh wait- that’s Ginny Potter!” cried out an eastern asian girl. One of the tall teenage whipped around, a furious blush on his face, before shutting his locker that had an old poster of hers. She remembered the row she’d had with her mum over the poster and how she wasn’t ‘fully in her uniform’ for the shot. Another kid, Oliver Wood’s daughter she’d met a few times over the years, gave a quick wave.

“Yup,” she said with a winning smile. “Best of luck, to all of you. Go Gryffindor!”

She caught James’s eye and was surprised to find him looking rather cross. She gave a quick gesture with her head to the door and he joined her just outside.

“Excited for your match?”

“Well I was…”

Oh dear. She could feel the tween angst rolling off of him.

“Everything alright?”

“Why’d you have to come into the locker room? No one else’s parents did that.”

“You sure about that? Because I know for a fact Oliver Wood was there for the first few years of your Keeper’s games.”

James bit his lip, adjusting his rectangular glasses.

“You sure?”

“Oh yes. And he wore full regalia and painted his face, so you’re old mum isn’t too much of an embarrassment by comparison.” She had no idea if Oliver Wood had done this, but it was the first embarrassing thing she could imagine to make her look a bit less bad by comparison.

“It’s not that you’re embarrassing…” he said, digging the toe of his shoe into the ground.

“Oh?”

“I just… I want them to be thinking about how I’m good on my own. Not because of you.”

Oh. She’d not considered that as being a thing, but completely understood the sentiment.

“Hey, I can leave if—”

“No… No, I want you here. I’m glad you came,” he said, before furtively looking around him then leaning in to hug her.

“You’re going to crush it, James,” she whispered in his ear. “Remember to really tuck in your heels and arms when you’re doing any hard sprints. And look farther down the field so you can get a big picture of the whole game and really slow things down. Oh, and ‘give to get’ on your tight turns so that—”

“I know, I know!” James said, putting a hand through his messy auburn hair. It wasn’t as messy as Harry’s, but she had a feeling he’d been running hands through it more than usual.

“Best of luck, darling,” she said with a kiss to his forehead.

He gave her one of his most confident smiles, flashing his straight teeth, and for a moment she could just picture what he’d be like when he was quite grown up, a thought that terrified her.

“See you after the game,” she said, giving his hair a ruffle as she went to find her seat.

She looked for Neville amongst the stands, but spotted a familiar head of dark hair beside him.

“Harry?” she called out. He turned and grinned at her, wearing a Gryffindor scarf and facepaint on his cheeks.

“Go Gryffindor,” he said with a grin.

She smiled back, loving that he’d somehow made it to the game. She also loved how mortified James would be later. She was the cool parent; today at least.

“Nice to see you in your old colors,” she said, taking a seat beside her husband. “Thought you had a mission today?”

“The great thing about being Head Auror is you can push those off on other people,” he said, taking hold of her hand. “Plus it’s his first game. I couldn’t miss it. It’s nice to have someone in the stands rooting for you when you’re taking on something daunting.”

She gave his hand a squeeze.

“Yell super loud when James flies out. He’ll love it!”

James might act embarrassed, but she was sure he actually would love having his father there cheering him on.

When James flew out Harry gave a giant whoop, which made James show off with some loop-de-loops instead of going red faced like Albus would have.

The match was a good one, and James was keeping up very well with players years older than he. She glowed as he followed her advice to ‘give to get’- slowing down on turns so he could gain more smooth speed on the long runs.

He was a natural chaser and she couldn’t be more proud.

James was in a perfect tail slide transition with his Quaffle when a bludger was his his direction. Too intent on looking down the field, and with all the cheers, he missed her and Harry’s scream as their son took a Bludger to the back of his head and went tumbling from his broom.

There were a number of spells on the field to prevent a student from making impact with the ground (something they could have used back in her and Harry’s day). It did nothing to prevent the terror scraping at her insides seeing her little boy put on a stretcher with blood running down his temple, glasses smashed and laid on his chest. Harry’s jaw was set and he made an incongruous sight looking so grim while adorned in the bright face paint.

James was rushed to the hospital wing, and she and Harry stayed by his side the whole way there. All his cousins and Teddy came to visit, but they dispersed once they knew James would be alright, with the exception of Teddy who opted to stay.

James was healed and bandaged up by Hannah Longbottom. Despite knowing James was fully healed, they opted to stay until he woke up. Teddy nodded off in a nearby chair, his hair subconsciously turning the same color as James’s as he slept.

Ginny stood looking at James’s sleeping face until her vision blurred. She could picture him when he was just a tiny baby, his look of mischief on his face as he padded along the halls on pudgy legs, toddling after Teddy and Harry, wanting to be so grown up.

Harry took her hand and squeezed it.

“He’s alright, love.”

“I know,” she replied, swiping at her eyes. “I can’t stop thinking of him as a baby, for some reason.”

Harry gave a dry laugh. “I’ve been thinking the same thing. Is it just me, or is being a parent a bit like having a time turner? In the blink of an eye you can see your twelve year old as a baby or when he first walked.”

“Especially when they’re asleep,” she said, stroking James’s lightly freckled cheek. “I’m glad you came today.”

“Me too. He flies just like you, you know,” said Harry before standing beside her.

“I was thinking some of those loop-de-loops looked like you at that age.”

“Naw, all his brilliance is from his Mum,” he said, leaning in to gently kiss her.

“Eurgh…” James gave a grunt, squinting at them. “What happened?”

“You got a bludger to the back of your head. Same injury your dad had in his sixth year.”

“Wicked…” said James, before his eye went wide. “Who won the game?”

“Gryffindor, even though they didn’t catch the Snitch. You Chasers were that good!” said Harry, sitting beside James.

Ginny could picture James’s first broom ride, with Harry excitedly following beside him so he wouldn’t slip off the tiny broom.

#hinny #james sirius potter #fan fiction #hp fanfiction #ginny potter #my writing #snitch #harry potter #hp next gen

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breanime · 3 years

Text

Five Senses: Sight (with Bonus Boy)

Billy Russo: You were the first thing Billy saw in his dreams overseas. No matter what horrors he had seen or committed that day, no matter how much blood was on his hands when he laid down to rest, no matter the dirt under his nails or the sweat on his skin, every night, he dreamt of you. And in his dreams, he was cleansed by you. In his dreams, Billy would see your bright eyes and that smile, that special smile you had for him and him alone, and no matter what atrocities he had seen or done, that smile would heal him. That smile, your smile, would warm him down to his bones--and that wasn’t a metaphor, it was true. Huddled in a flimsy tent with Frank and 12 other men, a freezing rain pouring down all around, nothing but a thin blanket and his fatigues to keep him covered, but Billy was warm. When he saw you, he was engulfed by your warmth, by your smile, by your love. Just the sight of you, dream or not, was enough to put Billy at easy, no matter where he was in the world. He’d memorized every part of you, and he pictured you, inch by glorious inch, when he needed your comfort. It wasn’t as good as being with you, of course, but it was a saving grace for him, and Billy was not a man who easily settled into being saved...unless his hero was you.

Logan Delos: Logan was a man of wealth and taste. He’d been born into his riches, and he’d become desensitized to many of the incredible things he’d seen in his time. He had seen sights that would leave an ordinary men speechless, had gone places that were normally closed off to public eyes. It didn’t faze him. Indescribable sights, things people would save up all their lives to see, seen and shrugged off within seconds by Logan. But the sight of you? Damn. You could drop him to his knees. Logan had just gotten off of his private Delos jet after spending a week lounging in the most decadent suite he could find in Abu Dhabi; the view had been described as “breathtaking”, but Logan hadn’t found himself having any difficult breathing as he looked out at the expansive city, drowned in orange by the sunset. But now, as Logan walked into your shared penthouse, he was breathless. You were laid out on the couch, the TV playing softly in the background, and you were fast asleep. It wasn’t an elegant sleep; you weren’t Scarlett O’Hara draped over a satin lounge chair, you were you, knocked out in the middle of the afternoon wearing one of his shirts. And you were, without a doubt, without exaggeration, the most exquisite thing he’d ever seen. Wordlessly, because he was speechless, Logan sat on the edge of the couch and reached out to you. Looking at you, your mouth slightly open, wearing his shirt, you arm splayed across your forehead, Logan felt himself melt. Truly, you were the most striking sight he had ever seen.

Jax Teller: Seeing Jax dressed all in orange, chains around his ankles, two armed guards on either side of him, should have made you sad. It should have made you realize that, as much as you loved Jax, he was a criminal, and moments like this were bound to happen again and again if you stayed with him. You should leave--now, while you still could. But when he sat across from you, and you looked into those blue eyes of his... You knew that you weren’t going anywhere. “Talked to my Mom earlier,” he said, settling into his seat, “she said my bail should be posted in a few days, and then I’ll be home... I’m sorry, darling, I know this isn’t what you signed up for--” “How much more does Gemma need for bail?” You asked, watching as his eyes widened. “Babe, you don’t have to--” “I’m gonna be your Old Lady some day,” you answered back, “I need to learn how to do this.” You watched as his smile spread, his eyes wrinkling. “You’re gonna be my Old Lady, huh?” He said back. You leaned forward, making sure he was looking right into your eyes. You could see a warmth in them when he looked at you, an affection there that was for you, and you only. “I love you, Jax, and I’m gonna spend the rest of my life with you. But in order to do that, we need to get you out of this place. So come on, tell me how much she needs to make your bail.” He chuckled, and leaned in as well, “You don’t realize how much I needed to see you...to hear you say that,” he reached out for your hand, and you looked down and smiled at the sight of his hand in yours, “You’re a sight for sore eyes, darlin’.”

Coco Cruz: The doctor said his eyes would heal, but it would be a while. And though he was a sniper, Coco wasn’t a patient man. You sat on the bed, watching him pace around in circles in your shared bedroom. “Coco,” you sighed. “What if my eyes never get better?” He asked, stopping and turning to you, the white patch over his injured eye wrinkled as he frowned. “Coco...” “What if I can never ride again? Or use a fucking gun? How am I gonna work?” “Coco...” He fell to his knees in front of the bed, and you reached out and caressed his face. His dark brown eye was watery with emotion, and you heart clenched at the pain you could see there. “What if I can’t see our baby?” He asked, his hand going to rest on your growing stomach. You felt tears spring to your eyes, but you held them back. “You will. Okay? The doctor said it can be treated, and it’ll take rehab and time, but you will see again. I promise you.” Coco nodded, leaning into you for a hug. You closed your eyes, wishing you could give him the gift of sight, wishing you could will him to heal faster. But you couldn’t. All you could do--all either of you could do--was wait. And wait you did. And the day your baby girl was born, the first thing she saw was Coco, his eyes filled with tears as he looked down at his newborn child. It had taken a lot of work, cost him so much time and pain, but it was all worth it when he could hold his baby girl in his arms and look into her eyes, his vision fully restored. It was worth the wait.

Angel Reyes: You and Angel had made your New Year’s resolutions together, and working out more had been at the top of the list. You’d both agreed that the two of you should exercise more, and it made sense to do it together and motivate one another, but now that you were here... You could see that it was a mistake. Watching a shirtless, sweaty Angel lift weights, his low grunts filling the air, was beyond distracting. It was erotic. He grinned at you, a dumbbells slung behind his gleaming shoulders. You wanted to lick the beads of sweat trailing down his tattoos. “You good, baby?” He teased, an eyebrow raised at you. You swallowed, your eyes unable to look away from the perfection that was Angel Reyes. “I--good. Yup. Good,” you said, watching the bulge in Angel’s shorts as he squatted down. “Mm, very well constructed sentence there,” he said, straightening up and placing the dumbbell on the rack. You stared at his ass as he turned around, and you felt your skin flush with the heat of desire. It should be illegal for one man to look so good. After all, this was a public place and here Angel was just being a fucking piece of art. “Babe, stop staring, you’re gonna make me blush,” he teased you, “Shh,” you dug into your pocket and pulled out your phone, “Don’t mind me. Keep working.” “Are you taking pictures of me?” “Maybe,” you answered, biting your lip as you snapped another picture, “Keep working out, this is good inspiration.” He laughed, doing as you said. By the end of your session, Angel had worked up quite a sweat, and you had amassed an impressive amount of sexy photos of your man. All in all, it was a good workout.

Miguel Galindo: There was nothing like the sight of Miguel in cartel mode. Every step, every glance, every twitch of his eyebrow turned you on. He stood behind his desk, both hands spread out over the papers and files that covered it, glaring at the men in the room. He was the very picture of power. You stood off to the die, summoned there to be a witness, your eyes fixated on your man. You watched the words spill from his mouth, you watched the men--powerful in their own right--visibly shrink as Miguel spoke. The topic of conversation wasn’t important to you; Miguel had all of your attention. You stared openly, your eyes going from his sinful mouth down to his large hands, watching them flex as he gestured over at the men. His eyes were hard, eyebrows furrowed as he showed his displeasure with his employees. Distantly, you heard their apologizes and his acceptance of them, but really, all you could do was drink in the sight that was your husband. He was in his element, as much as Miguel wanted to go legit, and as well suited to that world he was, he was a cartel man. It was in his blood. And it came naturally to him. You watched as he lifted his hand and pointed to the door; you could see the men scurry out from the corner of your eye, but your focus was on Miguel. He turned to you, a smirk growing on his kissable lips. “I can see what you’re thinking, mi amor,” he purred, “Why don’t you come over here and let me give you what you want?”

Nick Amaro: As soon as Nick saw you, he grabbed you. He held you tight, his eyes closing, visions of you hurt and afraid playing behind his eyelids. “I’m alright, Nick,” you assured him, whispering into the crook of his neck, “I’m alright...” He nodded, finally pulling back to have a look at you. There was blood on your face, and he reached out to wipe it, leaving a soft red smear on your cheeks. “Don’t ever do that again,” he huffed, his eyes boring into yours, “Never, okay?” “Nick,” you said carefully, running a hand through his hair, “you know I can’t promise that,” you watched his jaw clench, “if I’m the only thing between a perp and a victim, I’m going to stand in front f the victim, every time.” He closed his eyes again, trying not to see the truth in yours. “Nick,” you repeated his name until he opened his eyes again, “I’m fine. You had my back. Liv had my back. I’m safe, and so it that little girl.” You turned, taking his hand in yours. “Look,” you directed him gently. A few feet away, the little girl who’d been kidnapped was in the arms of her sobbing mother, safe and sound. The man who’d taken here was in the back of a bus, bleeding from the gunshot you’d given him. “We did that,” you told Nick, looking up at him, “Look at that girl. She’s the reason we do what we do. She’s the reason I can’t promise I won’t ever do this again.” He nodded, turning back to you and taking you in his arms. “I know,” he said, kissing your forehead, “Just... Next time, don’t leave my line of sight, okay? Can you at least do that?” You smiled, “I can do that.”

Johnny Tuturro: Johnny looked like a god, Apollo in the flesh. He was bathed in light, the rays of the sun shining on his brown skin, his smile wide and warm. You stood on the beach, Jakes on one side of you, Charlie on the other, and you didn’t even try to hide the fact that you were staring at Johnny. And really--who could blame you? He, Mike, and Briggs had just come to shore after catching a few waves, and Johnny was looking like a freaking dream. “Damn girl, stop drooling,” Briggs joked as he walked past you, taking Charlie’s hand and leading her away. Mike and Jakes laughed, following suit, and you watched, not at all concerned with the others, as Johnny approached you. “Wanna take a dip?” He asked. You shook your head, your hands immediately going to his chest, “Why are you like this?” “Like what?” “Like... this!” You stepped back, gesturing to his everything. “Look at you! You’re freaking glowing, you got the abs all out... Keep playing, and I’m gonna put a baby in you.” Johnny laughed, and the sight of him, skin glistening in the sunlight, water pooling in the deep crevices of his collarbones, had you clenching with desire. He leaned in close, his mouth right on the shell of your ear. “Since you like watching me so much, how ‘bout we go home, and we can go the bathroom, and you can watch me break you off in the reflection of the mirror, yeah?” You grabbed his hand, nearly running back to Graceland, eager to see what he had in store for you.

Rio: You blinked, trying to test to see if you were dreaming. “R-Rio...” You gasped out. He stood in front of you, dressed in all black, a smirk on his lips. “Hey mama.” You jumped out of bed, but stopped yourself from running to him. He was dead. Rhea said he was dead. There hadn’t been a funeral, but she said he was dead and now... “I know,” he said, anticipating your thoughts, “I know. But, just look at me. Look at me. I’m here.” You looked at him; he had a beard now, and a nose ring, but it was him. He was real. He was here. “What...?” “It’s a long story, and I’ll tell you everything,” he answered your unasked question, “really, I shouldn’t even be here, but... I had to see you, baby. I had to see you.” You rushed towards him, burying your face in his chest as he held you. It had been months since you’d seen Rio, but it felt like a lifetime. You hadn’t really registered, until this moment, how much you had missed seeing him: his soft lips, his shorn hair and low lidded eyes. He was speaking to you, whispering that he was home now, and you pulled back to look at him. He looked different, harder, and you could see a change in him. “What happened to you?” You asked, your voice coming out in a whisper. “Remember the housewife?” “With the big boobs?” He chuckled, shaking his head at you fondly. “Yeah. She put three slugs in me,” he explained, and you looked him over, imagining the bullet wounds that you knew were under those dark clothes. “I’m good, mama. But I’m pissed,” he leaned down and kissed you, and your eyes fluttered shut as his lips moved against yours, “so you and me are gonna get justice.”

Bonus Boy

Chris Zapata: Baseball had never been your favorite sport. You’d found it boring and tedious. And then you started dating Chris and suddenly, you were standing up in the stands every week, screaming and cheering as he played. You sighed dreamily, your chin in your hand as you watched Zap on the field. He wasn’t really do much of anything--actually, he (and Maz, and Barone, and Vinny) were all watching Murray throw a fit in the outfield. But God, did Chris look good. It was getting late, and the sun was setting, and it seemed like the very last rays of the day were clinging to Chris’ skin, placing a halo around him. You could see from your spot in the stands the sweat glistening on his skin, could see his eyes widen as Murray threw his bat at the score board, and you sighed again. You couldn’t even be sure if the team was winning or not (Murray’s tantrum suggested they were not), all you knew was that Chris looked like an angel. Your heart stopped in your chest when Chris’ eyes met yours, and you watched a smirk grow on his lips. He knew you were watching him. He knew you couldn’t look away. The sight of him like this--in his element--made you weak. You couldn’t wait for the game to be over so you could inspect your man at a much closer angle.

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#bre's boys #bre's boys preference #billy russo x reader #logan delos x reader #jax teller x reader #coco cruz x reader #angel reyes x reader #miguel galindo x reader #nick amaro x reader #johnny tuturro x reader #rio x reader #chris zapata x reader

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obae-me · 4 years

Text

A Taste Of His Own Medicine- Beel

Word Count: 2464

Description: This demon cold isn’t done with its victims, and despite your best attempts at keeping everyone healthy, you still aren’t done with your caretaking.

Lucifer and Mammon were now fully healthy and back on their feet, Satan not too far behind them. The rest of the household had their fingers crossed that it wouldn’t spread any further. Those hopes were dashed when two people were absent from breakfast one morning. The twins, Beel and Belphie, had never come down from their shared room. For Belphie, this wasn’t something to stop the presses for, he was known for sleeping too late only to get up at the last minute. For Beel, however, to miss any sort of meal? Something had to be wrong.

You offered to go check on them, putting your fork down, your morning breakfast not the same without the two of them.

Lucifer was somehow already out of his chair, gently pushing you back to your seat with a single hand on your shoulder. “Please, let me. If they are sick it’s hard telling how they’ll react. They could just as easily be oversleeping.”

You wanted to protest, but you figured he was probably right. He was their brother first and foremost, you were still just some human living in their home. That fact and the kinder eyes and soft touch he had given you had won you over to his words. He strided away from the table, and with a few long steps, he exited the room.

Asmo was squirming uncomfortably, audibly whining. “I was stupid to think this sickness thing was over! With Beel eating everything down to all your leftovers, it’s no wonder he caught your ugly germs! Then he gave it to Belphie, and next you’ll all give it to me!” He pushed his plate away from him, only having a single bite taken out of his meal.

“You don’t know that they’re sick yet,” Mammon rebutted. “And what do you mean my germs are ugly? Yours are!”

“The likelihood that both of them are ill is high.” Satan sighed, putting down his book he had brought with him. After doing his best to tune them out, it just wasn’t working. He still was weaker than he’d like to be, not to mention drained, but a doctor had confirmed that he was no longer contagious and could continue attending his classes at RAD. “The fridge has been abnormally full and I heard plenty of coughing from Belphie the other day.”

An alarming banging sound came from above their heads, little specks of dust from the ceiling floated down, only just visible in the direct light. As if this proved his theory, Satan gestured towards the noise. His eyelid almost twitching as Lucifer’s booming voice could be heard throughout the house.

This was enough for Asmo to get up from his spot, shaking his head profusely. “I swear if I catch this thing, all of you are absolutely going to have it, you hear me?!” He choked back a fake sob and went to leave the room.

“Oi, where are you going?” Mammon called after him.

“To wash my hands!” The demon of lust slammed the door to the dining hall as you watched more dust sprites dance down from the air. They twirled and spinned right over Levi. His nose twitched and he raised his elbow to cover his face as he let out a sneeze.

Levi, the only one who had been quiet this far, finally let out a long groan. He glanced down at his hands fearfully, as if they had been covered with blood. “No no no no no, I’m sick, I knew it!”

Satan rested his head back in his chair, closing his eyes in annoyance. The ruckus upstairs had gotten worse, his brothers were driving him up the wall already, and he still wasn’t feeling well, maybe he’d skip out on classes today. “Levi, I doubt you’re sick, you never leave your room.”

“Mammon bumped into me in the hallway when he had it, I bet he gave it to me then!”

Now the only three brothers left at the table were fighting. You frowned as your food ended up on the far side of the room along with the table. Unfortunately, this kind of thing happened often, so you excused yourself, expertly dodging a plate as it whirled past. You sat yourself on the stone steps of the entryway, waiting for the multiple battles to die down. There was screaming downstairs, crashing upstairs, the whole house in chaos once again.

“Demons…” You sighed.

***

Lucifer confirmed it, both of them had caught the cold, and he had spent the past hour or so attempting to wrangle both of them into taking some medicine. He had succeeded naturally, but as much as wanted to take care of his little brothers, he had plenty of work to do, and this morning’s event had already set him behind.

He informed you that they were calm now, the medicine lulling and sedating them, so you could see them freely without worry of them tearing you apart. Lucifer still warned you about watching yourself. “You’ve been on the brunt of all of this. I’m concerned for your health, the last thing we need is for you to fall ill as well.” You persuaded him that if you hadn’t gotten sick yet, maybe you were immune to demon colds. He wasn’t fully assured but let you do what you needed regardless.

You figured the best thing to cheer the twins up was with some good homemade soup. With Satan’s assistance, you concocted the most comforting meal you had ever made. You put two steaming bowls on a silver tray and brought it up to the twins room. The door to their bedroom had a golden emblem ingrained in the wood. A moon encircling a sun, resembling the same individual symbols above both their beds. You balanced the tray on your hip for just a moment as you softly rapped your knuckles against the smooth wood. You were pleasantly surprised when someone actually opened the door for a change.

Beel looked down at you, eyes heavy, wearing a faded orange t-shirt and some black shorts. He was already radiating a ton of heat, his shirt sticking to the skin around his torso. His abs and muscles were clearly shown through the fabric, but he didn’t seem to mind. He rubbed one of his eyes with a hand, not even focusing on the soup bowls. “MC, what’re you doing here?”

You lifted up the tray with both hands and presented the meal you made with him. The creamy broth with hearty vegetables and noodles would surely make him feel better. “I made you both soup since you aren’t feeling well.”

He frowned deeply, a look of loss in his eyes. “I’m not hungry, and Belphie’s asleep.” A simple glance past Beel’s body, and you could indeed see a lump in Belphie’s bed, many lumps in fact. There must’ve been plenty new additions to his pillow collection. “I’m sorry you went through the trouble,” Beel sighed, and went to shut the door. You quickly brought your attention back to the demon at hand, shocked and a little hurt that he would shut you out. He had never done that, ever. All of his other brothers, sure, but him? He always had his door and his arms wide open for you at all times. You used your leg to push open the door.

“Beel wait, please, you haven’t eaten all day. How are you going to give your body enough strength to heal if you don’t give it any fuel?” You looked up at him expectantly, worried for him. He had said those same words to you once before when you accidentally skipped out on a meal. He was always aware of what you had eaten and when, making sure you had all the balanced meals your body needed. It was about time you returned the favor.

“But the medicine…” He pressed one hand to his gut, his nose wrinkling up at the mention of food. You noticed him sway a little in place before he gripped the door tightly for balance. The usual glow in his countenance had gone dull, and it broke your heart. He seemed to always be strong, always be positive, always have a smile on his face when it came to food and family. Now, he just seemed out of it, eager to head back to bed with both you and the bowls on the other side of the door. You cursed the tray for occupying both of your hands. You wanted to go wrap him up in your arms, even if he was much bigger than you were.

“The medicine might be why you feel sick to your stomach in the first place, you didn’t eat anything before Lucifer gave it to you, didn’t you?” Your words brought his eyes up from staring at the floor and back to you. Orange strands of his hair were freed from the skin on his forehead as he shook his head to your question. An answer wasn’t quite necessary anyway, from the fighting you heard and Lucifer’s brief description, the older brother forced the medicine down both the twins throats before they had a chance to protest. You lifted the tray back up near Beel’s face, the contents of the bowls sloshed enough to almost drip over the edge. “You might feel better if you eat. Even just a little?”

The look of your begging eyes just peeking up over the top of the tray made Beel shift around on his feet. He looked like he was having an intense internal debate. The door in his hand was creaking open and shut while he decided if he wanted to let you in or not. Your heart sank as he seemed to come to the conclusion to prevent you from entering, the door almost clicking back into place to leave you in an empty hallway. Then he brought it back wide open, his eyes a little watery as he made it up in his mind that he could never shut you out like that. Your chest swelled as he let you in, shutting the door quietly behind you.

The room was almost consumed in pitch darkness as soon as the entrance closed. The only light source seemed to be coming from Beel’s side of the room emanating from the screen of his D.D.D. on his nightstand. It worked well enough as you followed Beel’s silhouette to make your way to his bed. You waited until the demon climbed back onto his mattress, sitting up while he pulled the covers over his legs. Not wanting to speak as to disturb Belphie, you extended one finger from the tray handle and pointed at his bed as a question. He nodded and you sat down right beside his thigh, placing the tray on his lap. His blankets were soft, and with a stroke of your hand, you smoothed out some of the wrinkles.

The sight of the soup made Beel grimace at first, and he looked back up at you with pleading eyes, like he was begging you not to make him eat. Your stern but comforting expression let his shoulders sag down in defeat, and he picked up a golden spoon. You rubbed the side of his arm as the glint of dim light reflected off the utensil. He scooped up some of the soup and put it into his mouth.

For a moment, he looked like he was about to be sick, forcing himself to take a moment to breathe in deeply as you silently comforted him in the dark. Scooting up from your spot on the bed, you got closer to his body, reaching around to rub his back and shoulders as he composed himself. You leaned in, whispering into his ear.

“Is my cooking really that bad?” You frowned, embarrassed, unsure if his reaction was towards your talents in the kitchen or the state of his sickly body. He didn’t answer you. Once the first spoon had settled, he quickly went for another taste. You braced yourself for another terrible reaction. He lowered his head so you couldn’t see his face in the light, the spoon between his fingers was trembling. You attempted to grab the tray, ready to have a word with Satan about his supposed recipe he had given you. Beel covered your hand with his, closing around it and giving it a squeeze.

His head raised back up, small tears making their way down his cheeks. He leaned in towards you, his chin almost resting on your shoulder. “It’s...so delicious. May I...eat it?” You almost let out a chuckle as you squeezed Beel’s hand back in return, your other hand resting on the back of Beel’s head as you gave his hair some gentle strokes. The Demon of Gluttony had just asked you if he was allowed to eat the food you had made specifically for him.

“Yes, Beel, I made it for you.”

He sat up away from you, the happy glow returned to his eyes as he went to work not only downing the bowl for him, but the bowl for Belphie as well. You made a mental note to come take care of the other twin later, right now you were focused on Beel. Sick or not, he still was strong and fast enough to consume both servings in a few minutes. You took the tray and set it on his nightstand.

He already looked so much better, color in his cheeks, more light in his eyes, and a little less swaying. You went to go stand up to leave, but two big arms wrapped around your body to hold you in place. The hot skin on Beel’s cheek pressed against your forehead as he sighed in relief.

“Thank you,” he mumbled.

You rested your head against his chest as he held you even tighter. “You’re welcome, Beel. I’ll bring you all the soup you want until you feel better.”

He buried his nose in your hair, his hands gripping your shirt. He leaned back against his headboard, bringing you along with him as you almost laid on top of him. It didn’t seem like he was going to let you go anytime soon. He closed his eyes and with one hand he flipped his D.D.D over so there was nothing but blackness in the room.

He breathed deeply, slowly sliding down until he was fully flat on his bed. You were right on top of him as his chest moved you slightly up and down with each of his slow breaths. He sleepily whispered one last phrase before he drifted into slumber. “You’re much better than any soup in the world.”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me beel #obey me beel x mc #obey me beel x reader

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doiedreams · 3 years

Text

State of Lucidity // l.ty

◈⇢ Synopsis: apparition!Taeyong’s appearances at night is what you think keeps you sane, but what was once a healing escape is becoming an addictive attachment Taeyong doesn’t want you to fall victim to.

◈⇢ Pairing: apparition!Taeyong x reader

◈⇢ Genre: fluff ద, angst ᱬ

◈⇢ Listen to: What Dreams Are Made of (by Evan McIntosh) HIGHLY RECOMMENDED

◈⇢ Warnings/Content: lucid dreaming, small mention of addiction, hints toward dream reality confusion

◈⇢ WC: 1.6k words

A view of your drab ceiling shifts into the focus of a hazy atmosphere as your eyelids flutter open. The sound of a vague, lulling white noise begins to fill your ears, as it feels like you’ve been transported to another realm. In a way, you have.

You feel a presence becoming more palpable next to you, and the mattress you lay on lightly begins to sink at your side.

Turning your head towards it, you sigh as your eyes meet the dark, and yet so bright, eyes of Taeyong. With the way his eyes gleam, you’d be able to find his gaze if the room was pitch-black. The corners of his perfectly shaped lips turn upwards and he lets out a soft giggle. You join him, feeling a euphoric feeling course through your body upon seeing him once again in all his angelic glory.

“I’m so glad you’re back,” you whisper.

“I tell you every time. It won't be the last time we meet.” His fingers brush against your hand beside you, and you allow them to intertwine at your side. “I have something for you.”

“And what might that be?” you ask.

Laying in bed on your backs, Taeyong taps his finger against your hand, bringing your attention to the space between your bodies. You feel a cool, smooth surface touch your fingers and you sit up, looking over to find a plate next to your legs. On the plate sits a pile of bright red, crownless strawberries, and a cloudy white substance next to them.

You turn towards Taeyong, who's still laying on his back in your bed looking at you with twinkling eyes, and ask, “Is this-?”

“Strawberries and whipped cream,” he finishes. “Your favorite.”

He reaches for the plate and balances it on his belly as he lays on his back.

“Come eat.”

You shoot him a quizzical glance before laying your head back on the pillow. You pluck a strawberry from the plate, scoop up some of the cool cream with the bottom, and plop it into your mouth. A burst of juice surges in your mouth as you chew, and you can’t help but feel like you’re sitting in a strawberry field, facing the sun with Taeyong’s smile shining just as bright next to you. This feeling of freedom, like you can be anywhere and everywhere on earth without moving an inch, is what makes you love being with Taeyong; you couldn’t feel this way with anybody else. You proceed to crush the juicy goodness between your teeth, savoring both the vibrant tang of the red fruit and the sugary coolness of the whipped cream.

The hint of mouthwash that once resided on your tastebuds when getting into bed is no longer there. It’s as if you've been bound to your lucid dream with Taeyong forever, not once partaking in the materialistic everyday routine involving brushing your teeth, making food, and going to work. Instead, it seems like the only lifestyle you've ever known is the one in which you bask in his presence in your soft bed, having conversation after conversation about pleasant memories that you somehow don't remember by the time you awaken.

“Mm, I love midnight snacks,” you hum, as you continue to take strawberries from the plate.

“I know. That's why I brought these.”

“Don’t you want some?”

“Nope. I'm only here for you,” he says as his eyes twinkle even in the room’s dimness. Catching sight of his smile once again brings butterflies to your stomach. His smile. Such a healing sight makes it so hard to part ways with it. And those lips. To feel them on yours just once would fulfill you with everlasting bliss.

“Your smile is so pretty,” Taeyong said in a hushed tone, his face hovering over yours, fingers lightly stroking your cheeks as you lay against your polyester sheets.

Your hands rested upon his shoulders and felt their way up his neck until they reached the sides of his face. “Yours is perfect.”

You yearned to close the space between your faces, but before you could, Taeyong said, “I’m sorry. I should go,” and shifted over to his previous spot on the bed, letting go of you.

“Taeyong-”

“I don't want you to get hurt,” he cut you off. Your perplexed stare sparked guilt in his chest as soon as he spoke. He could practically hear the questions darting in your head at the moment, and in response, all he said was, “Please, trust me.”

You decided to say nothing more upon seeing his soft smile that constantly told you that everything is okay.

Since that moment, you’ve wondered, what does he mean? How could I possibly get hurt? He wouldn’t hurt me. Yet, you never dared to ask him. The reassuring smile that never seemed to leave his face was the only answer you ever needed.

“All done?” Taeyong asks, pointing at the last strawberry before offering it to you.

You take it from his hand and eat it, nodding to let him know you’ve been satisfied. He sets the plate aside, and with a deep sigh, shuts his eyes and reaches for your hand once again. You allow him to hold your hand, but keep your eyes open just to be sure he's still with you.

The blurred haze hovering over you slowly begins to slip away as you start to feel reality force itself into your space.

“I think it’s best for me to go now,” Taeyong whispers softly, his breath leaving a phantom kiss on your skin.

You shake your head, rumpling the fabric of the pillowcase beneath your head, as you begin to object. “Just a li-”

“I can't stay any longer. I'm sorry.” The glint in Taeyong’s eyes slowly begins to dim down along with the atmosphere of the room, but his soothing smile doesn’t diminish one bit.

Recently, it seems as though you spend less and less time together. You can’t be upset with him, as you know he tries to make the departure as bearable as possible for you. Plus, he keeps his word: he’ll be back. He always comes back. He’s never given a reason as to why he needs to leave so early, but you're sure it must be the same reason he told you he didn't want to hurt you that night. He couldn't possibly hurt you. He's healing. He's therapy.

Yet, he's an obsession. A medicine that you manifested for your survival. He’s the embodiment of your pain turned to healing, and his addictive nature is getting the best of you. You're losing your grip on reality and Taeyong knows it. The stronger your attachment to him becomes, the easier it is to slip away from your real life. Every single morning, you leave more and more of yourself with him when you get out of bed. Every night, the desire to be with him gets stronger. He doesn't want to be responsible for the damage you'll do to your real-life relationships. Nor does he want to be at fault for the crushing guilt you feel when you have to leave your room and face reality every day. If he’s not careful, you’ll become more and more dependent on his presence to heal the legitimate wounds this obsession brings.

He loves you. He wants you too. Just not at the expense of your lucidity. He wants you to be able to live without him. It’s for your own good.

You don’t know of the damage this attachment could bring. Maybe it’s best you do, but the only desire you have is to spend eternity laying next to him in a bundle of linen. If your mattress could swallow you whole and transport you to a place where it's just the two of you, you’d let it.

Your head begins to swim and the white noise that once occupied the space around you starts to fade out. A tugging force on your hand rouses you from your thoughts, and you turn your head to meet Taeyong’s eyes.

“I promise, you’ll see me again.” He gives you a reassuring nod, accompanied by his pretty smile. A sigh leaves your lips, but in response to his consolidating words, you nod back and squeeze on his hand.

“Thank you for the strawberries and cream. It’s always nice having you here.”

His smile becomes one with a glint of sadness. I was never even here. “You’ll always have me.” His gaze darts away from your eyes and a pit begins to form in his stomach knowing he’s feeding your attachment to him. When will the line between dream and reality become completely blurred? It won’t be much longer, but he can’t just leave you forever. You need him. “Enjoy the rest of your sleep.”

With that, you can no longer feel a hand in yours and the only sound you hear is the slight hum of your AC. You run your hand along the cold bedsheets of the empty space next to you and feel an immediate longing for warmth. The bright red light illuminating from your alarm clock indicates you should be asleep for at least another hour before it goes off with its annoying wake-up call. You pull the covers over your body, and with a tart taste at the back of your mouth, you shut your eyes and rest, waiting to be awakened into your clouded reality.

a/n: I highly recommend listening to the song listed in the description. The vibes are just right and the fic correlates with some of the lyrics. It was supposed to be fully fluff but then I’m like damn,,, it’s a shame Taeyong aint even really there lmao and it just developed from there. as most of you know, I’m mainly a fluff writer. Anything that it isn’t purely soft fluffy content is new territory for me haha. With that being said, I hope you enjoyed it ♡

proofread by: @give-seconds @meraki-mark @byunbaekby @orange-nimon-cross @pastelsicheng @heartyyjeno @drydrops891 thank u! ♡

#nct-writers #neothestars #neowritingsnet #cznnet #kpopscape #nct #nct fluff #nct angst #taeyong fluff #taeyong angst #nct drabbles #nct imagines #taeyong drabbles #taeyong oneshot #taeyong imagines #nct taeyong #taeyong x reader #lee taeyong #kay’s creations

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jarienn972 · 3 years

Text

Weathering the Storm - Part Four

For a multitude of reasons, it has been ages since I've been able to update this story. I had the chapter all plotted out, but never seemed to be able to find time (or sometimes just motivation) to write. I appreciate those who reached out to me asking if I planned to update it and I thank you so much for your patience! I absolutely plan to finish it and right now, there are 2 more planned chapters to close everything out.

For now though, since it has been a few months, here’s a quick recap of where we left off in the last chapter: Emma braved the elements to investigate the abandoned Sheriff cruiser, and after seeing the dashcam video, knows that her husband is injured after the disastrous traffic stop. She's made the assumption that Killian would try to make his way to the closest dwelling to the lonely stretch of highway - Zelena's farmhouse. We're going to pick up at that same farmhouse as the unrelenting thunderstorm continues.

If you’d like to catch up from the beginning, you can find all of the current chapters on FF.net and AO3. Tumblr: Part One Part Two Part Three

Despite the warm glow from the flickering orange and gold flames in the fireplace behind her chair, the lingering dreariness of the day was wearing heavily on Zelena's mood. The sky was still laden with dull, grey clouds unleashing unholy torrents of rain upon the farmhouse's metal roof and continuous gusts of wind threatened to blow away the fluttering blue tarp which was only barely protecting them from the elements.

Oh, what she wouldn't have given right now if she could still possess the ability to poof them all away from this isolated outpost deep in the forest. Maybe she shouldn't have been so hasty and rammed that beat up old jalopy of hers into the Black Fairy. She wasn't particularly good at driving the beast but perhaps she could have managed to get into town… Oh, heavens...who was she kidding? In this weather, she wouldn't have made it to the end of the drive, and anyway, the ugly, metal death-trap was still sitting on a lot in town, rusting away as it awaited repairs. It hadn't been a high priority to fix when she'd had electricity and a working telephone to call Regina who'd pop in with supplies and whatever if she needed a hand with something. If she couldn't solve the problem with magic from a distance, she'd drive out to help her sister and niece, but she certainly couldn't do that right now.

At least, she could be thankful for the simple fact that Robin would sleep through almost anything when she had a full tummy. She couldn't recall the exact time she'd put her daughter down for her afternoon nap, but she estimated that it had been about an hour and a half, meaning her child was going to awaken soon and Zelena would have to figure out a way to entertain a cranky toddler in a dark, drafty house. For now though, the exasperated mom was enjoying the quiet reprieve from this stress-filled day before Robin was awake and wanting to play ,and then Zelena would also have to figure a way to keep the baby from bothering their guest.

Their guest.

How long had it been now since Hook showed up sopping wet on her doorstep? Two hours? Closer to three? Surely Emma would have realized that something was amiss if she'd not heard from her husband by now. How long might it take before someone realized that he was lying on her sofa right at this very moment? He was still semi-peacefully slumbering after taking a swig of the children's pain reliever which might have taken enough of the edge off to allow him to rest - or he'd just passed out from sheer agony and exhaustion.

Either way, she tried to distract herself with a little bit of reading by the firelight. The dancing flames cast odd shadows across the pages making the text difficult to see at times, but then she wasn't fully paying attention to the prose before her. She could scarcely recall a thing she'd read from the prior chapter, much less the last paragraph. She just needed something - anything - to keep her weary mind occupied during this brief reprieve. She was going bloody stir crazy, even beginning to believe she was hearing things that weren't there. She'd swear she just heard something rapping on the kitchen window, but quickly dismissed the thought, figuring it was just the swirling wind rattling the creaky door.

Until she was certain that she heard the sound of her name being called over the howling of the storm.

**********

Emma had briefly considered poofing herself right into the center of Zelena's kitchen, but decided against it at the last second, instead materializing from a cloud of pale grey smoke on the front porch instead. While she was somewhat protected from the storm by the narrow extension of the roof, rain water poured over the eaves in sheets. Considering that the gravel driveway leading up from the road had morphed into a shallow, muddy lake, the porch was relatively dry in comparison, although Emma wasn't certain just how protected she was from Mother Nature's fury when a bolt of lightning lit up the darkened skies. The tin roof above her head probably wasn't the safest right now…

She took a long stride closer to the door, wiping away some condensation from the glass with her sleeve as she peered through the window. She couldn't make out much inside the empty kitchen as it was fairly dark with a faint orangish glow in the distance. Zelena probably had a fire burning to provide some light and heat to stave off the chills with the power still out. She couldn't hear any voices emanating from the interior of the house, but it was possible that the noise of the rain striking the metal roof was drowning out any sounds from inside. But in the dim backlight provided by the firelight, Emma could make out a dark mass draped around the back of one of the ladderback chairs - a shape that looked decidedly like the collar and shoulders of a coat. A dark coat that had enough of a sheen on its surface to reflect the warm hue of the flames. Just like a certain black leather coat that her husband had been wearing when he departed for the station this morning.

Please, let that be Killian's coat, she begged of whatever higher power might be listening as she knocked anxiously on the window. Not noticing any movement inside the farmhouse, she rapped again, but this time on the wooden door instead of the glass as her sight fell upon a ruddy stain upon the white paint. Was that blood?

"Zelena?" she shouted, hoping that her voice would carry louder than her knocking. "Zelena? Are you in there?" Well, that was a stupid question...Of course she had to be inside. Most people wouldn't leave home with a fire still burning and where exactly would she go? Even if she'd managed to get her crappy car running, there was no way she would have made it into town in this downpour. She probably wouldn't have reached the end of the driveway… "Zelena!" she cried out even louder this time.

Seeing the familiar hue of the former witch's wild auburn hair through the steamed up glass, Emma's nerves abated momentarily and she let out a relieved exhale as the door was yanked open.

"Emma?" a startled Zelena muttered as she found the drenched, blonde sheriff standing at her doorstep, but her mood instantly lifted. "I am so happy to see you! I was hoping that you'd soon figure out your husband came here to seek help."

"Thank goodness. There weren't many places he could have gone, so I was really hoping he made it here. He recorded the whole thing on the dashcam, so I know he was shot. Is he alright?" Emma tried to keep her nerves in check, but as she rambled on, she knew she was failing miserably.

"He's in on the sofa. He's sleeping right now. Well, at least I think he's sleeping… He's been in and out of consciousness," Zelena explained as she waved Emma inside. Emma brushed past the redhead who closed the door quickly before the wind blew any more of the never-ending precipitation into the kitchen. Zelena continued detailing all she'd done to help, even though she doubted Emma heard half of it. "I've tried my best to get the bleeding under control. It isn't near as heavy as it was before, but he still lost a lot. The bullet that hit him went clean through and I don't think anything too vital was struck, but I really don't know for certain. He's still a bloody mess and a bit feverish. I tried giving him some of Robin's baby ibuprofen to help with the pain too, but I don't have a bloody clue how well that worked..."

Half-listening as she rounded the corner into the living room, Emma made a bee-line over to the sofa where she discovered her husband curled on his side with a woolen blanket draped over him. Even with the golden glow cast by the flames, his skin bore a deathly pallor. "Oh, Killian…," she sighed as she dropped to her knees on the floor beside him. She cupped her palm around his cheek, finding it cool and clammy beneath the warmth of her fingers. A muted, but guttural moan escaped his throat as he stirred at her touch. He blinked twice in the low light but as his sight adjusted, his eyelids parted fully to focus on the unexpected, but magnificent face of his true love.

"Swan?" he mumbled, his muddled brain trying to determine if she was real or just a cruel hallucination.

"It's me," Emma smiled, happy to find him conscious and communicative. "I'm here and I'm going to get you help…"

"Now that you can heal him, it'll all be fine," Zelena spoke up. "I would have already done that if I still had my magic, but now Emma can get you all fixed up," she gave a nod to Killian but the expression that crossed Emma's face confused her.

"Unfortunately, it isn't quite that simple…," Emma groaned in frustration. "Because this situation involved criminals from outside of Storybrooke, I had to have David notify the state police and put out a bulletin to watch for the vehicle. They'll have questions about the shooting, and if the deputy who they can see being shot on dashcam footage is suddenly, miraculously healed, those questions are going to get uncomfortable and weird and cast doubt on the whole thing. I don't even think that saying Killian was wearing a bulletproof vest would hold up under the circumstances…"

"So, what does that mean?" Zelena questioned.

"I'll have to get him back to Whale - transport him directly to the hospital…"

Emma was cut off mid-sentence as the storm unleashed a tremendous gust of wind that blasted through the broken window, billowing out the tarp until the nails could no longer hold and the resulting gush extinguished the fire. Swirls of raindrops, leaves and other debris were forced through the opening as the tarp floundered and flopped about the floor. Without a moment's hesitation, she spun around and raised her hands. In a split-second, a magical wave of bright light filled the room, vanquishing the tarp and all of the storm debris as it repaired the damaged window, restoring it to its original state like its twin further down the living room wall.

Zelena breathed a sigh of relief as the threat of further damage subsided for the time being, even though the room was plunged into darkness without the flames illuminating it. She wasn't going to miss that ugly plastic sheet, nor would she miss the drafts and rainwater that seeped in around its edges.

"Thank you for fixing that awful eyesore," Zelena said as Robin let out a terrified wail after being awakened by all of the commotion. "I'm coming, my love," she assured her daughter but she also gave Emma a quizzical look before heading over to the play yard. "Do you think you're going to have to explain that one?" she asked Emma with a gesture towards the repaired window.

"Hopefully, it won't come to it, but I suppose I'll think of something, if necessary," Emma replied as she turned her attention back to her wounded husband while Zelena scooped up a whimpering toddler. "Okay, one crisis averted," she whispered as she gently squeezed her husband's bicep through the blanket. "Let's get you into town so we can get you fixed up too."

Killian gave a weak nod and allowed his eyes to fall closed again as he steeled himself for teleportation, never knowing how rough the landing may be when they re-materialized. The commonplace of magical transport was something this grizzled mariner was still getting used to.

"Take us with you," Zelena interrupted. Unprepared for such a request, Emma glanced upward into the pleading eyes of the redhead who was still bouncing a teary-eyed toddler on her hip.

"What?" Emma stammered, her brow knitted in confusion. Had she heard that right?

"Please… Will you transport us there with you? I promise, we will be out of your way as soon as we get there. I'll call Regina to come pick us up, but I can't stay isolated out here in this bloody storm with no power and no way to get in touch with anyone. I hate not having magic anymore… I don't want to be a bother, but please…?"

"Um...sure, I guess," Emma responded. "For everything you've done for Killian today, I suppose it's the least I could do."

"Oh, thank you! Thank you!" the former witch gushed. "Let me grab Robin's things. I'll be less than a minute!" She scurried into the bedroom to collect Robin's diaper bag as well as a jacket for each of them, then quickly darted into the kitchen to grab the baby's pre-made evening bottle, which the little one eyed greedily as they returned to the living room. Her final task was to toss a pitcher of water onto the smoldering remnants of the fire to ensure it was completely out before they vacated the farmhouse. Returning to Emma's side, Zelena gave her daughter a tight hug and exclaimed: "All ready."

"Then off to Storybrooke Hospital we go," Emma stated, swishing her wrist before the magical cloud enveloped them.

#cs ff #cs fan fic #captain swan ff #killian whump #weathering the storm #gunshot wound #i know this update has been long delayed and is a little short #but i needed to break it there

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be-ace-write-crime · 4 years

Text

Lovely Bride - Third Wedding Night

Only one pillarman left who's trust you'll have to win more than any other. Unfortunately Kars may be your greatest challenge yet. You woke up having no idea how much time had passed, but you knew for sure you weren’t in the same bed. The single candle by your bedside was on a different table and these black silk sheets were not the ones you had buried your hands in when Esidisi made love to you last night. Also the light of the candle only reached the one wall the table and the bed were set up against, meaning this room had to be bigger than Esidisi or Wamuu’s rooms.

“You’re finally awake.”

The level, indifferent voice of Kars breaking through the quiet darkness made you jump, sitting upright in the bed, sheets pulled up to your chest.

“It’s only me,” he remarked, stepping into the light so you could see him. That put your mind at ease a little, but not completely. Of all the pillar men, Kars still scared you. He had a calculated coldness about him that overshadowed his more human side, which you had only caught glimpses of.

“Good morning,” you murmured, for lack of anything better to say. “Lord Kars,” you quickly added, bowing your head.

“It’s evening, actually,” he said, giving you an amused smile as he came to sit on the edge of the bed, leaning in close. You naturally pulled back upon having him enter your personal space, but with practically nowhere to go you just pulled the covers up until you were almost hiding like a child. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

You considered the question. You weren’t hurting anywhere. You considered how you were feeling emotionally and your barely awake self quickly dropped that hornet's nest and decided to ignore it for now. “I feel fine, master,” you answered.

“Good. You may go out if you wish. You may sleep here as well. I rarely do. I have no intention of consummating our marriage with you tonight. Enough damage has been done to you already,” he said.

You felt a slight sting upon his dismissal and couldn’t keep your mouth shut. “What do you mean by damage? You were the one to suggest Wamuu be my first…”

“I did, but I didn’t expect him to be so careless I would be asked to abandon my work in the middle of the night to rearrange your insides after you had fallen unconscious. Nor did I expect Esidisi to bring you into his bed and do the same thing,” he answered, sounding and looking obviously annoyed. Your eyes went wide and he chuckled dryly. “What? Didn’t you find it strange to awaken without a hint of pain after laying with a pair of gods, little one?”

“I did… a little… I didn’t know you’d had to…” you trailed off, cheeks burning.

“Esidisi brought you here, covered in blood, which thankfully turned out to be his, at least mostly,” he said, cupping your cheek and looking into your eyes as if he were searching for something. You held his gaze, like a deer facing headlights, until he spoke again. “He asked if I would consider giving you the antidote now,” he said, which made you perk up, but his expression remained unreadable. “I will not allow you to die, but you won’t receive the antidote from me just yet,” he answered, which made your heart sink.

“M-May I ask why…?” you whispered.

“As it stands that ring is the only thing binding you to me. I am not prepared to give it up. Not yet,” he responded.

“You have my word,” you said, clutching your sheets a little tighter. Kars shook his head, unmoved, but his eyes softened somewhat.

“Perhaps I could present you with something else to show you my trust? Stand up,” he ordered, standing up himself. You could feel your face burning with embarrassment as you stood before him, naked as the day you were born.

He gently tipped up your chin and kissed your lips and you relaxed thinking that was it. You should really know better by now.

“Don’t flinch, just breathe,” he ordered softly, and before the meaning of those words could register in your brain you felt a stabbing blow right to the center of your chest, knocking all the air out of you. Your eyes went wide and you fell into his arms, trying to push him off at the same time as if it might give you more room to breathe.

Your husband stood over you, studying your reaction and drawing back his hand. He’d just about stabbed you with his pinky, forcing all the muscles in your chest to contract, and you couldn’t fight this reflex, desperately attempting to force breath into your aching chest to no avail.

Teary eyed you fought to draw air into your lungs, all your strength focused on the singular task until you were finally rewarded with the blissful feeling of air flooding your lungs, chest expanding and your extremities tingling as your oxygen was finally replenished.

Kars reached for you and on reflex you slapped his hand away, once bitten, twice shy. To your horror your hand striking his left a large, blistered mark, like you’d shaved off the skin with a burning hot razor. He looked as surprised as you that you’d done it, looking at you with wide eyes. He regained his bearings more quickly than you, smirking and licking his wounds before they healed completely, as if they had never been there.

“I’m glad to see you so lively, but try not to do that again,” he warned you.

“I-I’m sorry, lord Kars! It won’t happen again!” you declared, bowing your head. Still the warmth like sunlight shining from inside kept radiating from within you.

“I studied the scrolls you brought back. Much trivial history and things we had already learned firsthand about your tribe, but this here struck my interest. A means to awaken one’s latent Hamon abilities,” he explained, taking a pitted grape from the basket Esidisi had collected for you and placing it in your hands. The pit sprouted in your hands in the complete darkness of the catacombs. “If the sun is half as bright and wonderful as you, my love, then every second we spent in darkness will have been worth it,” he whispered.

You looked down, awestruck. You’d seen some warriors forcing already budding flowers into bloom to impress girls before, but this seemed far beyond that. Probably since Kars just awakened your powers, you assumed, but you were glowing with excitement nonetheless.

“Get dressed. You are free to practice in both your healing and combat as you see fit. I have much left to do and as night falls Esidisi, Wamuu and I must depart in our search for the stone,” he instructed, tossing you a small bag from the side table behind your basket.

“Y-Yes, thank you, lord Kars…” you said, quickly taking the clothes from the bag and figuring how to put them on. You were surprised to find the soft, black garments to be a two piece set in a similar style as what your husbands preferred to wear. It provided solid covering for every part that really needed it, with translucent silk draped lavishly down your legs like a loincloth, giving the illusion it was only a dark shadow protecting your modesty underneath, as it left your legs clearly visible.

You combed your hair and arranged the jewelry Kars had added to the bag to match, blushing madly. A prostitute would not have dressed so daringly in your little village, and you could feel Kars’ eyes on you like a predator watching its prey. Thankfully Esidisi had left you your dagger and its sheath, which you attached to the waistband of your new attire.

“I wanted you to have this, as you are one of us, but I trust I won’t have to tell you not to let any humans see you like this,” he said, taking the last item from your hands and placing it on your head. It was an elaborate piece of gold chains, coming together around your forehead with a teardrop shaped diamond charm.

“I won’t, master,” you said, face red, yet feeling oddly beautiful. It struck you that he could not have stolen or bought garments like these anywhere and they seemed to be fitted to your form perfectly, meaning either he commissioned this specifically for you, or he had made you these himself. The thought made you shiver, right as his fingers carding through your hair found the shell of your ear, tugging lightly at the lobe.

“If you’ll allow me, I would like to pierce your ears. Perhaps somewhere else as well?” he purred, making the shivers intensify tenfold. “Hmm, but not tonight. I have kept you here long enough and I have things to do before night falls.”

“Yes, master,” you said, taking your candle and your basket. Kars turned around to retreat back into the darkness, most likely to some kind of workspace you couldn’t see. Hopefully you could spend some time with him just before dawn when he returned. For now you would enjoy the sunset and a little snack, one of your private pleasures which you unfortunately couldn’t share with your husbands.

You weren’t sure where you were, but you noticed you were more sensitive to the vibrations around you as you wandered the underground halls. You slowed to a stop and rummaged through the basket, picking up the bottle of wine and a silver chalice cup, pouring to just below the rim and studying the ripples in the vessel carefully.

You also fully planned on drinking this later. Never mind you had just woken up, it was evening and you had reasons to drink. The more you watched the surface, the better you were able to read the ripples as it were. You could sense Kars in the room behind you, heavy footsteps of Wamuu and Esidisi above you, and several things… skittering all around.

One was getting closer, approaching, but hovering just outside the light of your candle. As you moved, it moved with you, stalking you almost.

“I know you’re there,” you called out to it, now a good ways away from Kars’ room, but not knowing if you were any closer to the stairs or not.

“It’s a bit early to be drinking, isn’t it, (Y/N)? Though I suppose it doesn’t matter when you plan to live as a spoilt, drunken wench, just like your mother,” a raspy vampire voice sneered, dropping from the ceiling and stepping into the light.

“What the…” you muttered, less fazed by the insults than you were by this vampire speaking to you, let alone speaking to you like that! You were their superior, although you had yet to put that claim to the test. This one didn’t seem too impressed by your status.

“Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? Debauching yourself for the monsters that murdered our kind?!” the vampire hissed, prowling closer to you.

“I am doing what you people asked of me. Meanwhile you are one of the monsters that murdered our kind,” you responded, backing away slowly. You had the candle holder in your dominant hand, the chalice in the other. If you dropped the candle, you’d be in the dark, but you could reach for your dagger. If you dropped the cup, you’d still have the light, but you’d fumble with the dagger in your nondominant hand. You could cry out for help, but this vampire was close enough to be in the light of your flame and it would only need a split second to rip your throat out. It didn’t have to drain you of blood. It wasn’t cornering you just because it was hungry. This one had a grudge against you.

“Don’t provoke me, you disgusting little witch,” he sneered, still coming closer while you backed away. You prayed someone heard you. Your husbands, some other vampire looking to get in their good graces, but you could sense nothing. You weren’t sure how far their supernatural hearing range was, but clearly underground it wasn’t far enough.

Fear was messing with your breathing, making it shallow and weak. You hadn’t trained your hamon, barely knew how to use it at all, and even the faintest sparks of it died as you were almost hyperventilating.

“I don’t even know who you are,” you murmured, looking him up and down. His youthful face and physique were decidedly unfamiliar to you, but he must have been someone from your tribe or maybe some frequently passing merchant, but you drew a complete blank.

“I spent my entire life defending our tribe. I raised warriors by the dozens. I was the reason you had a home, only for you to whore yourself out to the monsters that killed the men who fought and died for you,” he growled under his breath and finally you recognised who you had in front of you and you couldn’t hold back a snorted laugh.

The ‘general’ of your village. He’d been old as dirt by the time you were born, and now he was older still, but the stone mask had restored much of his youth. He didn’t give a damn about the warriors he raised, and he sure as hell didn’t respect them the way your husbands did. He became a vampire by choice, betraying your people, eating them, to save his own skin.

“Right… You abandoned our tribe and begged for mercy, at the cost of their lives , but you call me a traitorous whore?!” you demanded, feeling a flare of vindication at the furious look on the bastard’s face. He was going to murder you, but knowing you got under the self-righteous bastard’s skin was worth it a dozen times over

You were out of time. With the vampire exactly one giant leap away from you, you dropped the candle, the little flame snuffed out by the fall. In a fluent motion you grabbed your blade, catching the gleam of the monster’s teeth right before all went dark around you. He tried to trick you, waiting a split second in the dark so that your reflexive swing would miss and he’d have a clear shot at your throat. What your bloodsucking enemy hadn’t realized was that you had been reading his movements with the ripples in your cup this whole time.

That brief little taste of revenge over the proud bastard looking down on you pushed down your fear enough to get your breathing under control, loading your dagger up with hamon and slashing with every ounce of strength you had.

For a moment you thought you missed, feeling no resistance, waiting to feel claws and fangs shredding your flesh, letting out the blood curdling scream you’d been choking on since that glorified leech first stepped into the light of your flame, but nothing happened.

You were breathing hard, and finally your scream seemed to have drawn your husbands’ attention. Kars was the first to catch up, Esidisi and Wamuu flying down the stairs at the end of the long hall. Esidisi’s flaming aura bathed the stone hallway in light, and you could see what you’d done as Kars locked his arms around you and jumped back with you held flush against his chest.

Your knife had gone through him like he was made of paper, burning him up with hamon. One of his arms hung charred and shriveled up at his side and a massive, smoldering gash had opened up from his shoulder, burning up his throat and going all the way across his chest.

“Are you alright, (Y/N)? What happened?!” Wamuu demanded, a stiff breeze coursing through the underground halls and the wires of his headgear dancing around his temples.

You swallowed, looking down at the vampire who’s eyes were now wide with fear, trying to shake his head, a plea for you not to tell them. As if you would treat him any more kindly than them.

“Please let go…” you murmured. Kars shook like letting go physically strained him, but did and tried to check if you were injured in some way he hadn’t noticed and was hurting you, but you shrugged off his concern. “Thank you, my masters… for the freedom and power you have given me… so that I can kill this hypocrite whore myself!” you yelled, landing a near perfect hamon kick against the side of the vampire’s skull. It exploded like a bag of dust being kicked, the rest of its body falling limp on the floor.

“Did it attack you, (Y/N)?” Esidisi asked. It was hard for them to believe. Their vampires were obedient, but it wasn’t impossible, and certainly more likely than their bride going haywire like this.

“No, it was coming in for a hug! Yes, he attacked me. He said I was…” you sniffled, still instinctively wanting to hide your tears, even in front of Esidisi and Wamuu. You looked back at Kars, who you could only guess was shaking with rage, and you regretted being a smartass with your comments again. “I’m sorry for my outburst, but…” you weren’t sure what else to say.

Without exchanging another word, Esidisi torched the corpse and Wamuu scattered its ashes as if it had never been there. Kars dragged you back into his arms, hugging you tight enough that some joints in your back popped.

“They can’t be trusted…” the eldest of the pillar men muttered, his glare focussing on his two companions. “Get rid of any vampire that was once a hamon user. I will not have our bride endangered within our own home,” he said, with barely restrained rage as he hoisted you into his arms and turned around to take you back to his room.

“Master… There are so many. It’ll be next to impossible to-”

Esidisi was cut off when his master half turned and screamed loud enough to hurt your ears. “THEN KILL THEM ALL!”

You were trembling like a leaf in his arms. Esidisi and Wamuu looked conflicted at each other before bowing and responding in unison.

“Yes, lord Kars!”

Kars took you back to his room and the oppressive darkness was less frightening in his arms, but in the dark you could hear his fangs grinding together, his frustrated, snarled breathing, and the distant screams of his vampire army being slaughtered in the pitch black caves.

“What happened?” he eventually asked. “I let you out of our sight for two minutes…”

“I’m sorry, lord Kars…” you whispered, wiling your voice to stay calm. “I guess it held a grudge towards me for… marrying you and being allowed to live…” you tried to explain.

“I understand that,” he responded tersely. “But WHAT. HAPPENED?!”

“I was able to sense him stalking me in the dark. I called out. He insulted me, my mother and the warriors of my tribe and I responded in kind… He leapt at me and I cut him with the dagger Wamuu let me have… I dropped the candle and lost control of my breathing, so I couldn’t pinpoint him in the dark and screamed and… You know what happened after that…”

“Stupid fragile human…” he muttered, making you cringe. He laid you back down on his bed and laid there with you, keeping you locked tight against his chest. “I won’t allow you to die. I will conquer the sun, the earth and all its wretched creatures if I must. I won’t let you be taken from me.”

You shivered, hiding your face against his chest. The soft mattress dulled the vibrations and this deep into the temple’s catacombs you could scarcely hear the dying screams, the crackling flames and roaring winds.

Without the vampires, who would search for the stone? How could you possibly uncover the treasure they had searched for all these centuries without the hundreds of undead that made up their army to act as their eyes and ears? Was this your fault? Would you be forced to part with your beloved in a month’s time because they could never find the stone at this rate?

It felt like an eternity, but in less than an hour it was done. Kars seemed to know when it was over, picking you up and cradling you gently against his chest as he carried you back, through the halls, up the stairs and eventually into the cool evening air. You could see the ash stained clothes of vampires who would rather take their chances against the sun than die at the hands of their masters. You remembered vividly the general’s face as your foot collided with his skull, skin burning up like a paper mask, flesh tearing and crumbling like burned up charcoal, before the impact splattered the ash like remnants into the air. You could visualize it in slow motion in your mind.

You felt proud. What you’d done was incredible! You’d never imagined you could achieve something like that, and just in the nick of time. At the same time you felt guilty. Not for the act itself, but for feeling proud of something that would inevitably snowball into such a mess.

“It is done, lord Kars,” Esidisi said. You could tell he was every bit as tense as you were, hanging back out of his master’s striking range, although he still smiled to comfort you, and so you smiled back.

“Well done, both of you,” Kars said, sitting on his throne, still holding you as he looked out over the valley. The lights of your village were still dark, and the stars were so much brighter for it, but even their twinkling was of little comfort to you right now.

“If I may say so, my lord. Our dear bride defended herself admirably,” Wamuu said, your smile widening into a grin. Wamuu admired strength above all things. Even if fighting a vampire might have been a small feat to him, he knew you had done something truly incredible in defeating such a powerful opponent.

“She shouldn’t have had to defend herself in the first place…” Kars remarked, dampening your mood again.

“You said I was free to train in combat as I saw fit just minutes before it happened…” You pointed out. Your stomach was in knots already and had been for the better part of an hour. By then you’d rather get it over with and have him snap than to endure his quiet, simmering rage.

“I meant for you to practice, perhaps spar with one of us or some of those pests who would actually obey and protect you. You realize you were inches from death?!” he demanded, fisting a hand in your hair, making you wince.

“I have been inches from death since you and those pests came here! I could have been eaten weeks ago and every second I have been here! I killed the only pest that mattered and you just-”

“Enough!” he yelled, striking at the cracked armrest at his side, shattering it completely. There was dead silence all around. “Be more mindful… of your mortality, little one…” he breathed. His eyes were blazing red and his mane seemed to bristle like that of an angered beast. You nodded as best you could with the iron grip on your own hair, which he eventually released. You didn’t need to be told to get off his lap, you got the hint, watching with teary eyes as he shook off the strands he had pulled out of your scalp.

“We’ll be back by morning,” Kars announced, disappearing in a flash. Esidisi helped you stand, and Wamuu pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“You truly fought as brilliantly as the shining dawn, beloved. We shall be with you again before the first light of sunrise,” your first husband whispered, before they too were forced to depart. You nodded and bid them good luck in their search, waiting until you were sure they were out of sight and earshot before angrily kicking the ash stained rags and pebbles around.

“As if that ring you forced on me does too little to remind me what an untrustworthy little mortal I am, lord Kars! I am thoroughly humbled by your gracious gift of conditional mercy! I shall happily bear the weight of my bastard father’s deceit of thee, great and all knowing gods!” you rambled, heading down the mountain with a torch, since there was nothing left to harm you now. People knew not to tread near your village and the monsters haunting it and all the vampires were now gone. At worst you might encounter a wild animal, but those were easily chased off with a torch. Your village lay abandoned still. You felt a wave of guilt as some pets your people held flocked towards you upon seeing you, in search of food and care. Determined to be a better master than Kars and swallow your anger for now, you went around tearing open pantries and food stores. It wouldn’t last them long, but before the time on your ring ran out some humans would realize the structures had been left uninhabited and most of them would find new homes with new owners. Your food back at the temple had gone to waste in a cloud of corpse you kicked up, so for the first time in days you cooked yourself a proper meal.

Releasing the livestock would kill them, so you dutifully went around feeding them too. The sheep and the pigs and the handful of goats and cows and eventually the horses.

Many warriors kept magnificent horses. They were a point of pride and you found them just in time as many were ready to hurt themselves on the fences or stables enclosing them in search of food.

One that caught your attention most was Aries, the big black war-horse that had killed two people in the marketplace once. It was known to be an absolute nightmare, held in check with sharp spikes on its bit and sharper strikes from its master’s whip.

It was a beautiful horse, but it seemed to bristle at your very presence. You laid out food for the huffing and sputtering creature and opened the stable door, jumping aside as quick as you could. It would be both cruel and dangerous to try to herd it back into the stable again, so you decided he might as well roam free. If someone more daring or less cautious than you tried to tame it later, that would be their concern.

You did the same for any other stabled horses, hoping they would be able to live the long and healthy lives they deserved in freedom.

You gathered a new basket of supplies and with a sour expression you headed back up the mountain to await your husbands’ return.

For a while you were able to ignore the steady hoofbeats behind you, though they were easier to sense than any vampire, but after a while it got too close to be a coincidence and you searched the darkness with the light of your torch, which was nearing its end. You could just barely make out the gracefully trotting black mass, its fur shiny in the firelight.

“Aries, no. This is for me. There’s more food down there,” you said, noting the behemoth was more calm now that it had eaten. “Here, last little snack, then go run,” you said, feeding him an apple, which he took without biting or fussing.

It was obvious it was following you and you tried to stop an obvious idea from forming in your mind, but it was too late.

“The moment I put a saddle on you, you’ll kick and stagger, injure me and enrage lord Kars. You were not made to be ridden, and you were most definitely not made to pull a cart,” you told him sternly, only to have him rub his giant head against you like a massive cat.

“I chose you,” the bastard seemed to say. “I chose you, so deal with the consequences.”

“Terrible, awful, murderous demon baby you are,” you muttered absently a while later as you were cautiously brushing down the massive horse, unable to keep the affection out of your tone. “Almost as bad as the terrible, awful, murderous demon husbands I married. I love you and I love them, but they talk about as well as you do,” you said. “I would have gladly helped look for the stone. I’d have gone out during the day and actually searched, asked people, anything. Instead I’m… Well I probably spent more time on my back than anything,” you noted, red faced as you dragged the heavy saddle out for Aries to see. He neighed and you slowly put on his blanket first. Then the saddle.

“Maybe I won’t be there to wait for him come morning. Make him worry while he hides in the shade another day,” you said, laughing at the stupidity of it. You weren’t going to do that. It’d be suicide. “More likely you’re about to throw me and break my limbs and then after Esidisi is going to laugh at me for being stupid, Wamuu will carry me around like a wounded bird and Kars will mope around sneering about what a stupid, fragile human he picked up,” you said out loud, taking a deep breath and using your hamon to boost your strength as you hoisted yourself onto his back.

“So far so good…” you whispered, stroking his neck. “I wonder where they are right now. The capital, or some port city, no doubt. You know I’ve never seen the ocean before, have you?” you mused, daring to spur him into a trot with a light squeeze of your calves. You had no reigns. He’d snapped and backed away when you only just approached with a headpiece, so that was out of the question. You’d ridden an old little pony without reigns as a child, though this hardly compared. “The ocean is less than twenty miles away. You could make that in a day, couldn’t you, Aries? Or a night… We’d ride past the capital too. We could search for lord Kars’ dumb stone,” you said, steering him through the desolate streets of your hometown with light kicks and tugs on his mane.

You really weren’t dressed for riding, but you had some proper riding clothes in your old home. You wouldn’t be back before sunrise, if you made it at all, and you had never traveled this far outside your village before. It was madness, but a heady mixture of fear and spite was urging you on.

You already had that cursed ring that promised you a swift ending. Why should you spend thirty days as a plaything if Kars wouldn’t commit to sparing you now?

You were already putting on your hardiest clothes over the more delicate ones you had been given and mounting your horse again when you realized you probably wouldn’t have been able to mount Aries in the first place without your hamon. The gift Kars had given you to show his trust and how he never showed the barest hint of anger when you struck him.

He wasn’t mad at you. He was almost forced to face an eternity without you and it distressed him to the point of lashing out.

“Maybe I’ll ask Lord Kars to accompany us to the ocean when he comes home this morning.”

“Good morning,” Kars’ calm voice still startled you and your reaction startled Aries, who stomped and huffed angrily.

“Good morning, lord Kars,” you said, trying to shush the horse. Kars watched you quietly while you calmed the giant you had brought back to the temple.

“You’re quite good at that,” he noted, coming up behind you. You quirked a brow and looked back at him, waiting to see if there was something more to that statement or if it was some kind of joke you didn’t understand. Yesterday he wouldn’t acknowledge an expert kill you made, but now he was complimenting your skills with a horse? “You have a calming air about you. It puts me at ease. Your animal compatriot senses it too. I feel a sense of contentment when you’re near that nothing else brings me,” he explained and you bit your tongue to hold back another snarky remark pointing out he didn’t exactly seem calm last night.

“Please forgive my behavior last night. I meant no offense by my words and I realize your aspirations have now suffered on my behalf. You destroyed your army to keep me safe after one soldier threatened me and your search for the stone-”

“Ssshh, my sun. No sacrifice is too great for you,” he assured you, pulling you close. “The thought of being helpless to protect you while you’re out in the sun vexes me to no end. Tonight I almost lost you when I let my guard down and I could never forgive myself if I… we had lost you forever due to my carelessness…” he explained, enveloping you in the same desperately tight hold that kept you pressed firmly against him while his army was slain. “My frustration was never directed at you… and tonight gave me some time to realize that the only reason you are alive, was because I gave you the freedom to fight back and to keep you as a caged bird at my side would not serve to keep you safe,” he went on, pressing a small vial into your hand. “The antidote.”

You smiled and reached back, carding your fingers through his hair. Gods, it was beautiful enough to make you jealous.

“Thank you for trusting me, master. I shall keep it with me, until you find the stone,” you said. He exhaled sharply, taking the hand that was combing through his hair and kissing it.

“Let me take you to bed, beloved. I cannot wait any longer,” he breathed.

“Let me take care of Aries. The sun is almost up. I shall join you shortly,” you said, releasing a rather undignified noise when you were picked up and thrown over his shoulder instead.

“Wamuu, tend to our beloved’s new pet,” he ordered. You saw Wamuu appear from the shadows in the pale of dawn, smiling at you and his master, then full on grinning at Aries.

“You have chosen a magnificent steed, dear (Y/N)! I shall be glad to assist in its care,” he announced. “I am also glad to see you and lord Kars have reconciled.”

“Ah, wait! He can be quite violent, but he’s good to me. Don’t hurt him!” you called out as you were carried away.

“Is she talking about Wamuu?” Esidisi asked, only just arriving as you were carried past him.

“She is talking about a horse she brought back. Get inside, Esidisi,” Kars answered, walking faster when Esidisi snorted a laugh.

“I have not seen you retreat to your sleeping quarters with such urgency in millennia, dear Kars,” he called after you two.

You were thrown onto his bed again. It had to be his, because it was so soft and also you bounced twice without falling off the other side.

“How dare you wear so many clothes?” he asked. Now you were not familiar with their language in the least, but you were fairly confident this roughly translated into: “You have until I am on top of you to get those clothes off and whatever is still on you is getting shredded.”

“I needed something to wear when riding Aries,” you explained, getting your old clothes off, as well as the silk bottoms of the two piece attire he’d gifted you, which you were still wearing underneath. You could sense some movement a little ways away from you, then a bright rain of sparks as Kars dragged some kind of blade against the stone of a fireplace, lighting a fire inside that grew steadily until you could finally see around the dark room. There was a dragon’s hoard of treasure laid out between the stone fireplace and the bed, glimmering in the dancing light of the fire. On the walls were enormous maps of places you had never even heard of before, some covered with pins and strings, detailing impossibly long journeys. In the corner was a desk that had to be as heavy as your newly acquired warhorse, covered in fine tools, rocks and white sand. No doubt he had been carving more stone masks, but didn’t he have enough of those already? You had a hundred things to ask about every corner of the room, but you were stunned silent and motionless at the most dazzling sight of all.

Kars usually wasn’t very fond of clothes, be it yours or for himself, but for tonight’s occasion even the minimal clothing he usually wore was too much. Bared naked except for his jewelry, he stalked closer to his darling prey on the bed, the smirk on his face telling he knew exactly what your awestruck expression was for.

“Those clothes might suit you for riding Aries, but you’ll have no need for them when riding me,” he purred smoothly, sharp fangs glinting as brightly as the jewelry adorning his regal features while he grinned down at you.

You gripped the soft, black sheets, wanting to touch, but unsure if it was allowed, like hovering by a priceless artwork. You weren’t sure if he meant it, or if he was just teasing you. He always preferred to be in charge with everything. Why would he choose a position that let you take the lead now?

“Y-You wish for me to…” you trailed off, not daring to repeat the phrase. He silenced you with his lips against yours, guiding your hands to comb through his hair and caress his perfectly sculpted form.

“Ride me. Take your pleasure and serve me as your lover and master. Give yourself entirely to me as my bride,” he reaffirmed, he was already hard when he guided one of your hands to stroke him. You were a bit more sure of yourself by now, knowing no amount of strength from you could seriously hurt or injure him. It helped that Kars wasn’t as monstrously thick as Wamuu had been and gripping as firmly as you could without impeding the slide of your fingers on his skin you managed to work your master’s hard cock in a way that made his painted blue eyes flutter shut.

“Yes, lord Kars,” you agreed breathlessly, coaxing him to lie back and let you get on top with just a small push. He looked up at you with a mixture of reverence and cocksure amusement, guiding you into another languid kiss before whispering his next command in your ear.

“I want you to use your mouth on me, beloved. Let me see your pretty, pink lips wrapped around my cock while you choke on it,” he said, his words making your stomach tighten with excitement. For any human men you might have found the act far less appealing, but for Kars you would happily oblige.

Your master’s dick was as unnaturally perfect as the rest of him. It was long, straight, the plump head flushed slightly darker and glistening with a smear of pearly white fluid. Your godly mate lacked all the smelly, hairy and sweaty human traits that might have made this unpleasant, leaving you with only the challenge of how you were going to fit something so massive down your throat as he intended.

You weren’t sure how to go about this, simply doing what felt most natural and awaiting more guidance. Licking up the salty, savoury drops of precum that had gathered at the tip and continuing to stroke his length, it occurred to you this was your first time doing this. Not just sucking him off, but this was the first time servicing one of your husbands. Wamuu and Esidisi had both taken charge and been the ones to pleasure you throughout the nights you spent with them, claiming and treasuring you.

Kars desired you no less than either of your previous lovers and would not be opposed to serving you in any way you liked, but this was what he truly wanted more than anything. To be the one being claimed and treasured and worshipped. Knowing that you desired him enough to take him and obey his every command was intoxicating to him and it showed in his adoring, half-lidded eyes, clouded with lust.

He tangled a hand in your hair and pulled you down, forcing you to take more and more into your mouth, and despite your best efforts, his pushing against your gag reflex on every stroke had you choking and sputtering, struggling not to use your teeth, even if it wouldn’t hurt him.

“Finding it hard to concentrate, my dear morning light?” he asked, licking his lips as he watched you. Even without touching you much more than a few kisses and petting your head, you were starting to get wet, squeezing your thighs together to hold out against your own needs until your master was satisfied. “Your hamon can numb the pain of your muscles stretching beyond their usual limits and restore any damage that might cause. I will make sure you are able to breathe. Stay focussed now, little one,” he ordered, bracing his legs more firmly against the bed and giving you a few seconds to breathe in deep through your nose and try and get your hamon under control before forcing you down all the way to the base of his cock. He moaned heavenly, throwing his head back and closing his eyes to revel in the feel of you. By all accounts this should have hurt, but you felt nothing aside from the slightly uncomfortable pressure of his throbbing length down your throat and the slight sting of him pulling your hair. Clutching his strong thighs for balance, you could feel the faintest tremble to them when you reflexively tried to swallow around the massive intrusion.

“Centuries I thought no creature aside from us could ever be truly perfect… How wrong I was, my beautiful sun… I may be immortal, but it is you who is truly divine…” he praised, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “So good for me, my dear… Hmm, but I did promise to let you breathe, didn’t I?” he mused, letting you come up for air, pulling back to gasp for breath with threads of saliva connecting your pretty mouth to his dick.

“I know it’s a little overwhelming the first time, but you’re doing so well. You’re so wonderful and tight,” he praised, wiping tears of exertion from your cheeks and letting you breathe until you were ready to continue.

With their immortal bodies and stamina, the pace and strength levels humans fucked at were rarely sufficient for your husbands, who preferred to ravish you at their pace. Kars was taking this slow though, savouring the feeling and the sight of you sucking his cock all the way down, shyly meeting his gaze from behind teary lashes between his thighs.

“I’ll have Esidisi teach you properly sometime. You’re so eager to please,” he cooed, stroking your cheek as you tried your best to bob your head and take him down all the way. Honestly if the men from your tribe had even considered this use for hamon, you were sure all women would have been made to master it. Not that you would have cared to do this a second sooner or for anyone else.

The smooth glide of your master’s cock against your tongue, his hands in your hair, the subtle tremor in his voice when he spoke to praise you, all of it only served to drive you mad with want.

“Mhmm, so good to me, my darling,” he said, his voice a deep rumble that sent a spike of arousal straight through you as you were pulled up into another kiss. His cock, slick with your spit, brushed almost teasingly against your warm folds like a whispered promise of the pleasure you had come to crave. Pleasure you knew only your husbands could provide.

“Lord Kars… I can’t wait anymore. Please~?” you pleaded shamefully, grinding against his hard length and feeling it pulse in time with the instinctive rutting of his hips against yours.

“I gave you my permission to serve me, my precious (Y/N). I’m not stopping you now,” he said, gesturing at his flawless body with a smirk. “You will take your pleasure from riding me like the voracious mortal bitch you are. You will worship me with every whimper and cry from your lips. You are mine to cherish and adore until the end of time itself,” he purred, pulling you close and tipping your chin up like he was posing you for some erotic masterpiece.

You swallowed and looked down. You could scarcely imagine getting all of that inside yourself smoothly, let alone riding him the way Esidisi and Wamuu had taken you. Whining about that wouldn’t get either of you off though, so with another deep breath you lined up the head of his cock with your entrance and aided by the new trick you had just learned you dropped back down into his lap in one movement.

You were rewarded with the sight of your master throwing his head back, groaning and squeezing your hips hard enough you’d have bruises with his fingerprints by the end of your rendezvous. Good healing practice, he would likely tell you, though you wouldn’t mind showing them off.

“Perfect… Just perfect for me,” he growled, licking his lips while you adjusted to his size and steadied your breathing. “You are so good to me, my sunshine…” he praised, biting his lip while his hands wandered across your trembling thighs. “Oh, don’t stop now, my darling. I know you have so much more to give me,” he said, edging you on to move already. “Worship me on your knees like the first night you came to me. Ride me like your precious stallion~”

“My stallion isn’t even this big. You must be joking!” you huffed, already bracing yourself on his chest with both hands for support as your legs were shaking. Kars looked surprised for a moment, fighting a smile tugging on his lips and quickly covering his mouth to hide a genuine laugh.

“Cheeky little thing,” he chided, clearly amused and slightly smacking one of your cheeks on his lap in reprimand. Well, lightly for him. It was like a whip strike to you, making you clench down hard on his cock where it was buried deep inside you. “I suppose your inexperience is the price of your innocence. It doesn’t matter when I’ll have eternity to teach you how to serve me properly,” he said, flipping you over and pushing your knees back until they almost touched the sheets.

“A-Ah! I’m sorry! P-Please be gentle with me! I’ll learn to serve you, please!” you cried out, already worried you were in for a punishment far more brutal than a little spanking.

“I gave you power, little one, but you have shown your only rightful place is underneath me. It is too late to beg for mercy now,” he taunted, grinding his massive dick so deep you were seeing stars. “Focus on your breathing now. I won’t repair you once I leave you broken and used. I’ll mold your insides to the shape of my cock and you will remember exactly who you belong to,” he warned.

You’d try. You’d try with all your might, but with Kars’ silver tongue whispering sweet promises in your ear and the head of his cock rubbing so tantalizingly deep inside your dripping pussy, breathing was becoming less and less of a priority.

He picked up the pace gradually, with you fighting to consciously breathe in a way that could keep the god between your legs from completely ruining your tight little cunt and keep you from passing out from the pleasure that had long since overpowered your common sense.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it? What a hopeless little whore did I take for a bride. Just aching to be fucked by any one of us, aren’t you?” he asked, his hungry red eyed gaze sweeping over the sight of you taking his cock deep enough he could see it in your stomach. “I’ll give you anything you want. I’ll fuck you till your body is in ruins and your sweet, broken heart is content,” he groaned, losing himself in your sweet cries and tight heat until he felt your hand on his cheek.

“N-No… Lord Kars~” you whined, the faintest smile painting your lips. There was only one thing you truly desired. One thing, which he could give you that would leave your heart eternally content.

“ Worship me… ”

The words had just barely left your mouth before you could feel your lover seize up, legs pressed all the way back as he bit down harshly on your shoulder and flooded your insides with his release.

Gasping a final breath, you screamed to your lover, the gods and whoever else was left to hear it. Your precious mortal body constricted around him, milking his cock as if demanding more. Maybe he had been right about what you truly craved. What your body craved, at least.

You were exhausted, floating in the fuzzy post-orgasm bliss that would usually lull you to sleep quite quickly, but Kars’ warning rang clear in your mind. You could rest once you were sure he was satisfied.

In the meantime, you were still too exhausted to move, so to be let down and pulled into a hug was a pleasant surprise.

“Don’t you know I already do, my love?” he whispered. Your mind was still swimming in a tide of pleasure, making it hard to connect those words to the correct context. “You have served me well. You may rest now,” he said. That was all you needed to let the siren call of sleep pull you under, cuddled up safely in your master’s arms.

You woke up many hours later as the sun was just setting, but Kars had already carried you to the shaded side of the mountain where he was safe. You weren’t quite sure how he’d gotten you there, but you figured there were likely some tunnels in the catacombs you did not know about. You’d have plenty of days to explore at your leisure without vampires there.

Kars leapt swiftly around the steep hillside, and up the steep cliffs of the much larger mountains lining the valley.

“Where are we going?” You asked with a soft yawn, drawing Kars’ attention.

“You’ll see,” your husband told you with a small smile.

“I want to go to the ocean,” you said, only half awake, earning a chuckle.

“Close. But if you want, I can take you there. Just not tonight,” he said. You looked up the mountain you were ascending, growing slightly worried when you saw smoke rising from the top.

“Is this safe?” you asked, clinging to Kars’ shoulders. It was getting colder. These mountain peaks were tipped with snow, even in the summer months, and you were only wrapped in a sheet you recognised from the bedroom you shared.

“You’ll always be safe with me, my dear,” he assured you, slowing to a stop by the source of the smoke. Wait, not smoke, just steam. A small spring on the uninhabited mountain top had been heated to the point of steaming on the freezing summit.

Wamuu and Esidisi were already waiting for you, with Aries in tow. Wamuu had by some miracle tamed him to the point he stood resting peacefully in the shallows, letting your first lover pour water down his back to continue keeping him warm. Esidisi was half asleep, up to his chest in the clear spring water and before you could ask anything else you were unceremoniously thrown in, sheet and all.

You screamed and kicked to get back up, glaring at Kars.

“Never do that again!” you yelled, glad Aries had taken a shine to the wind god, as that obviously startled him.

“If you want to see the ocean, learn to swim,” Kars responded, casually taking off his clothes and jewels and putting up his hair before joining you.

“I can swim. I just don’t appreciate being thrown,” you argued, pouting. “And if the spring is heating up, doesn’t that mean this is a volcano?” you asked worriedly.

“It just means Esidisi is here,” Kars answered, handing you a comb and turning his head, the implication obvious. You wanted to huff and refuse, but no amount of pettiness could make you pass up a chance to play with his hair.

“I don’t like the cold,” Esidisi explained, the water near boiling where he sat a few metres away.

“A cold bath strengthens the spirit,” Wamuu interjected.

“Well you’re welcome to go roll in the snow over there,” his master responded, splashing the younger with a wave of hot water and soaking whatever clothes he was still wearing.

“Can you two stop behaving like children?” Kars asked, when Wamuu used his winds to splash him right back.

“Says the one who can’t be bothered to comb his own hair,” you teased.

“I’ll have you know, this is a privilege and not a chore. If you don’t want to, go play with your pet. Normally we’d have sent vampires to fetch clean water down the mountain, but now circumstances have forced our hands,” he explained.

“Ah, so that’s why,” you murmured, the black silk dancing unconcerned in the warm water around you.

“Don’t blame yourself, dear (Y/N). They would have become food eventually and we can look after ourselves and you,” Esidisi assured you, sitting up and stretching. You were momentarily distracted by watching the water run down his rippling muscles, following a particular drop run from his forearm, down his bicep to the swell of his pecs and a half amused scoff drew your attention back to Kars, who stood up to form a similar display.

“Unless that isn’t what’s distracting you?” he asked, smirking down at you.

“You have my full and undivided attention, my lord…” you said quickly, red faced due to more than just the water’s temperature. Although you couldn’t help but notice he had caught the attention of your other mates as well as yours with his little show.

“As it should be,” he said, letting his hair down and shaking off the excess water that caught in the ends. “The absence of our army is negligible in our day-to-day lives, but will greatly hinder our search for the stone. The last lead we have to go on was that the raw gem was brought down to Rome, where it was cut and sold,” he explained. “I’m not sure if the hamon tribe believed to be in possession of the correct stone, or if they meant to trick us, but our time was wasted chasing a smaller cut of the same gem.”

“They were wiped from existence, save for (Y/N) and her sister’s family. Seems like an awful long way to force a bluff,” Esidisi pointed out.

“What if the rest of the stone has been cut too small?” you asked, worry making your chest feel tight. You could sense your wedding ring still there, though it felt less oppressive now. Not nearly as oppressive as the deadline approaching.

“We interrogated the man who cut the stone. He said every time the light shone directly on it it nearly killed him or destroyed his tools. He cut a large flawless stone from the raw gem and two smaller ones. He did not dare cut them any finer. He sold them for a fortune to a merchant he did not know, as he wanted to be rid of the stones for good. He did not live to enjoy his fortune,” Wamuu answered, stroking Aries’ ears more to calm himself now.

“There is only one Aja that will suit our needs, but since being sold in Rome it could have been taken anywhere,” Kars said.

“The Aja draws attention. Not just for its looks. It’s ability to refract light makes it dangerous. Anyone trying to sell it would garner attention,” Esidisi said.

“If it refracts sunlight, they wouldn’t try to sell it at night. Especially if it got out what you’d done to my tribe,” you reasoned.

“Which is exactly where you come in,” Kars said, cupping your cheek. “You can embrace the light of day. You are human. You can help us search for the stone.”

You didn’t hesitate for a second.

“Yes, my masters.”

#kars x reader #kars #kars jojo #pillarmen #jojo's bizzare adventure x reader #wamuu x reader #esidisi x reader #chapter 3 #not sfw #reader insert

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gameofdrarry · 3 years

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Wizards Hearts Recs: Angst

Wizards Hearts was a four-month-long Drarry reading fest. Players were given a playing deck of 52 tropes, and were asked to find 52 different fics to read and comment on to fill their decks. To prevent the same few fics from being read, fics were restricted to only being used for the game three times before being considered ineligible for further points. The tropes and submissions list can be found here.

Check out the masterlist of fics for this trope below the cut!

📜 remember me by hupsoonheng Rated: Teen and Up Words: 31082 Tags: Amnesia, Temporary Amnesia, Obliviation, Established Relationship, Established Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Legilimency, Age Regression/De-Aging, Angst, Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Reformed Draco Malfoy, POV Draco Malfoy, Good Draco Malfoy, Gardens & Gardening, Angst with a Happy Ending, Happy Ending, POV Harry Potter Summary: On a chilly day in October, Draco kisses Harry goodbye before he goes on yet another dangerous, undercover mission with the Aurors. And then Harry doesn't come back. Only Draco believes that Harry isn't dead, and pours himself into finding his husband despite his friends' pleas to move on and grieve properly. What he finds at the end of that work, though, is not at all what he wanted. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 you've got the antidote for me by Kandakicksass Rated: Mature Words: 20730 Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Soul Bond, Red String of Fate, Heavy Angst, Terminal Illnesses, Major Illness, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary: When Harry Potter unintentionally severs their soulbond before it can fully form, Draco Malfoy resigns himself to a slow death and decides not to burden Harry with a soulmate he's made it very clear he doesn't want. He's never been selfless before, but for Harry, he can try. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Every Breath You Take by hephaestiions Rated: Mature Words: 19252 Tags: Major Character Death, Death (Harry Potter), Suicide, Child Death, Miscommunication, Angst, Angst and Tragedy Summary: It starts and ends with Death. Scorpius was just caught in between. Like always. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Between Myth and Man by slytherco Rated: Explicit Words: 16242 Tags: Veritaserum, Truth Serum, Mundane, London, Falling In Love, Lies, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, This whole story is just Draco angsting really, Sexual Content, keeping secrets, Smoking, Bad Weather, References to Drugs, Making Out, One (1) Scared Little Sparrow, And also lots of texting Summary: Draco, lost and a little broken, navigates post-war reality convinced that people like him should not be allowed to make their own choices. To solve the problem of his self-sabotaging tendencies, he starts taking a few drops of Veritaserum every morning. A story about the complexity of choices, repressed desires that come to the surface when we least expect them, and the utter hopelessness of truths built on a foundation of lies. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Three Boxes and a Scrapbook by dracogotgame Rated: Mature Words: 30493 Tags: mention of divorce, flangst, Bill is a bro Summary: One year after being accidentally bonded to each other, Harry and Draco are free to move on with their lives. But perhaps, what they needed was here all along. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Intertwined by bluefay Rated: Explicit Words: 25086 Tags: Memory Loss, Memory Alteration, Accidental Bonding, Magic Gone Wrong, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Malfoy Manor, Self-Harm, Dark Mark (Harry Potter), Serious Injuries, But they're not very graphic so don't fret!, Self-Hatred, Angst, Enemies to Lovers, Established Relationship, Sort Of, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Hate Sex, Childhood Trauma ,Flashbacks, St Mungo's Hospital, Sharing a Bed, Angst with a Happy Ending, First Time, H/D Hurt!Fest 2020 Summary: On May 3rd, 1998, Draco Malfoy wakes up with no memory of Voldemort, the war, or Harry Potter, his supposed boyfriend. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 I Am Not Who I Became by mab_di Rated: Explicit Words: 93189 Tags: H/D Fan Fair 2019, Secondary Theme: Travel Fair, Secondary Theme: Book Fair, Commercial Fisherman Draco Malfoy, Failed Writer Harry Potter, Depressed Harry Potter, Magically Powerful Harry Potter, Muscular Draco Malfoy, Recluse Harry Potter, Angst, Smut, Drama & Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Post-Second War with Voldemort, Wandless Magic, Boats and Ships, Finland (Country), Fishing, Redemption, School Reunion, Minor Draco Malfoy/Original Male Character(s), Anal Sex, Rough Sex, Sex Magic, Suicidal Thoughts, Near Death Experiences, Magical Theory, POV Alternating Summary: Draco left England after the trials and has travelled the world meeting wizards and Muggles from different cultures and with vastly different relationships to magic, each other, and the natural world. Now he's a fisherman in Finland on commercial vessels. Harry has been struggling since the war and has become a recluse while trying to write his autobiography. An invitation to the Hogwarts class of 1998's 15th reunion isn't welcomed by either of them, but neither could predict how the night, and their reunion, will upend their lives. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 When I Put My Eyes On You by Zzzara Rated: Explicit Words: 31160 Tags: Blindness, Blind Character, Blind Harry Potter, Disability, Physical Disability, Disabled Character, Slow Burn, Falling In Love, Love, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, Dorks in Love, Friendship/Love, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Requited Unrequited Love, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Amortentia, Potions, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt, Emotions, Emotional, Emotional Roller Coaster, Pining, Pining Harry Potter, Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Developing Friendships, Romantic Friendship, Best Friends, Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter Friendship, POV Harry Potter, Patronus, Spells & Enchantments, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Feels, Angst and Romance, Jealousy, Jealous Harry Potter, Male Friendship, Male-Female Friendship, Spin the Bottle, Halloween, Party, Party Games, Mistletoe, Kissing, Surprise Kissing, Boys Kissing, Rough Kissing, Drunken Kissing, Gentle Kissing, Boys In Love, Drinking, Drunken Shenanigans, Drunkenness, First Time, Explicit Sexual Content, Sex, Gay Sex, Hand Jobs, Emotional Sex, Awkward First Times, Sleeping Together, Literal Sleeping Together, Dancing, Showers, Masturbation in Shower, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Resolved Sexual Tension, Dreams, Fantasizing, Desire, Self-Esteem Issues, Substance Abuse, Angst with a Happy Ending, Happy Ending, Lights Camera Drarry 2020, Lights Camera Drarry, LCDrarry, LCD - Freeform, The Way he looks, film inspired, Self-Prompt, Healing Summary: When a hero defeats a villain, there's supposed to be a happily-ever-after... but when did anything ever happen to Harry Potter the way it was supposed to? Having sacrificed himself to the greater good, Harry is left alone in the darkness, blindly groping for the shreds of the life he knew. When the enemies meet, how is the story supposed to go, once they learn there's more to it than the eye can see? A story of pain, hope and things we discover, once we stop looking for them with our eyes. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 You open always (petal by petal) by birdsofshore Rated: Explicit Words: 65214 Tags: Post War, Rent Boy!Draco, Down-And-Out!Draco, Grimmauld Place, House magic, Portraits, First Times, Antagonism, Hurt/Comfort, Coming Out, Pining, Angst, UST, Kissing, Frotting, Blow Jobs, Rimming, Intergluteal Sex, Anal Sex, Homophobic Slurs And Attitudes, Internalised Homophobia, Derogatory Attitudes To Sex Workers, Some Mentions Of Sadistic Violence, Brief Thoughts Of Sexual Activity With A Sleeping Partner, Rough Sex, Brief Mention Of Harry With A Woman (Past Relationship), Mentions Of Dubious Consent In Connection With Sex Work, Community: hd_erised, Inexperienced Harry, Top Harry Potter, House Elves, Masturbation Summary: Harry’s not the kind of person who pays for sex. He really isn’t. Until he is. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Solder by Oakstone730 Rated: Explicit Words: 34547 Tags: potion/alcohol addiction, Recovery, Nipple Play, Rimming, Dirty Talk, Angst, PiningUST, Reconciliation, LoveForgiveness, Cursebreaker!Draco, Artist!Harry Summary: Seven years ago, Harry disappeared out of Draco and Scorpius's life without a trace after Harry's addictions destroyed his and Draco's marriage. Now, Harry’s back, and Draco wants to believe he’s changed. But Harry isn’t the only one haunted by the past. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Three Months, Eleven Days and Nine Hours by sassy_cissa Rated: Teen and Up Words: sassy_cissa Tags: H/D Food Fair 2018, Angst, Romance, Paroled Draco Malfoy, Rebuilding Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy/, Harry Potter Friendship, Down and Out Draco Malfoy, Food Forager Draco Malfoy, Soup Kitchens, Happy Ending, Post-Hogwarts, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hungry Draco Malfoy Summary: Broke and living in a one room hovel in Knockturn Alley, Draco hunts in rubbish bins for food. Nothing could be more humiliating, right? Unless you're Draco Malfoy... ❤️ Read on AO3

Texting You by ununquadius Rated: Teen and Up Words: 6005 Tags: Major Character Death, text fic, draco is dead, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, or maybe hurt/no comfort, Everyday Life, Pets, Asexual Harry Potter, Indian Harry Potter, one penis drawing, H/D Hurt!Fest 2020, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Loneliness, Drinking, Terminal Illnesses, blink and you missed them suicidal thoughts Summary: After Draco's death, Harry can't let go so he keeps texting their private chat, updating him on his life and rambling about everything and anything until it almost feels like there's a possibility that, one day, a reply will come. Read on AO3

📜 Wake Up In The Night by p1013 Rated: Explicit Words: 10483 Tags: Angst with a Happy Ending, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Explicit Sexual Content, Face-Fucking, Public Sex, Blow Jobs, Versatile Draco Malfoy, Versatile Harry Potter, Anal Sex, Rimming, Anal Fingering, Dirty Talk, Facials, 69 (Sex Position), Coming Untouched, Love Confessions, Curses, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Drinking, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, POV Draco Malfoy, Voyeurism, H/D Hurt!Fest 2020, Emotional Manipulation Summary: In the days after the War ended, there were a great many things that were changed or changing, a great many things that somehow slipped beneath the notice of Ministry officials and healers from St. Mungo's and Aurors that were tasked with capturing fleeing Death Eaters. It was, after all, the end of the War, and much like war itself, the clean up was heartbreaking. Lives had been lost. The world as they knew it had been changed irrevocably. In the grand scheme of things, there were more important things to worry about than Draco Malfoy's sudden, inexplicable inability to feel love. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Coated in Rust and Blood by crazyparakiss Rated: Mature Words: 2429 Tags: Mpreg, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Therapy, Break Up, Post-Break Up, Angst, Violent Sex, Self-Hatred, Grief/Mourning, H/D Hurt!Fest 2020 Summary: No one escapes the nightmares. That’s what his headshrinker tells Harry every time he tries to unpack the baggage he was handed from infancy. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Here Without You by gracerene Rated: Explicit Words: 26869 Tags: Post-Hogwarts, War, Canon-Typical Violence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Character Death, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Background Het, Non-Linear Narrative, Flashbacks, Epistolary, Love Letters, Dirty Letters, An Ode to Draco's Bum, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Top Harry Potter, Implied Switching, Auror Harry Potter, Healer Draco Malfoy, Explosions, Harry Potter & Parvati Patil Friendship, Loneliness, Denial, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, H/D Hurt!Fest 2020 Summary: It's been seven years since the end of the Second Wizarding War with Voldemort, and a new Dark Lady has taken over in nearby Ireland. Harry feels compelled to volunteer to fight on the front lines, but war is never safe, and Harry has a lot—including his blissfully happy relationship with Draco—to lose. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Orion in the Sky by space_wingding Rated: Explicit Words: 30709 Tags: Bookshop Owner Draco Malfoy, Coffee, Village life, Slow Burn, Pining, Denial, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Jigsaw Puzzles, Falling In Love, Getting Together, Post-Hogwarts, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, POV Draco Malfoy, POV Harry Potter, Fatal Curse, Serious Injuries, Suicidal Thoughts, Hospitalization, Death, Character Death, Unhappy Ending, St Mungo's Hospital, Grief, mentions of anal sex, Chronic or Terminal Illness, H/D Hurt!Fest 2020 Summary: Draco Malfoy owns a bookshop in the Lake District. He’s also cursed. Enter: Harry Potter. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Forgot to remember you by Andithiel Rated: Mature Words: 1753 Tags: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Auror Partners, Magical Accidents, Memory Loss, Partial Memory Loss, Getting Together, DreamsPining, Light Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drarropoly 2.0 - A Drarry Game/Fest, Rated M for language, There's not any real stuff going on Summary: Harry was hit with a spell that made him forget the week before he was hurt. Most of his memories have come back, but he has a niggling suspicion that he did something wrong. Why else would his Auror partner (and the object of his desires) go from friendly to hostile? ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 On the Last Day by trishjames Rated: Explicit Words: 53481 Tags: Mystery, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Unreliable Narrator, Drama, Dramatic Irony, Flashbacks, Non-Linear Flashbacks, Memory Loss, Horror Elements, Suicidal Ideation, Depression, Occlumency (Harry Potter), Occlumency as a Coping Mechanism, Panic Attacks, Discussion and Depiction of Mini Seizures, mention of overdoses, Revenge, Repression, Science, Neurology & Neuroscience, Neurological damage, Medicine, Potions, Original Characters - Freeform, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Somewhat Bond!Fic, Strong Friendships, Strong Women, Maternal love, Department of Mysteries, Unspeakables (Harry Potter), The Love Chamber, The Death Chamber, Death Potion, Amortentia, The Veil, Near Death Experiences, Souls, Major character death - Freeform, Death, forced drugging, Mind Control (Imperio), Murder, Vomit, Medical Procedures, Consent, Amoral Behaviour, Unethical Behaviour, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Possession, Ghost Sex, True Love Conquers All, ghost!harry, Magically Powerful Harry Potter, Auror Harry Potter, Unspeakable/Scientist Hermione Granger, Unspeakable/Scientist Draco Malfoy, H/D Hurt!Fest 2020, Psst...angst with a happy ending.. Summary: Draco is still mourning the recent loss of his mother when the Wizarding World is struck with the tragic news of Harry Potter’s untimely death. It’s just his luck that Potter not only comes back as a ghost, but seems intent on haunting Draco as he’s the only one that can see him. It’s a race against time to retrace the last few days of Potter’s life in order to find his body before he’s lost to the living or spiritual realm forever. On their journey, they’ll uncover secrets, betrayals, and a horrific truth that will disrupt both the living and the dead. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Poland | A Faint Glow of Hope by EvAEleanor Rated: Mature Words: 6123 Tags: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Summer Solstice, Solstice, Curses, Unspeakable Draco Malfoy, Auror Harry Potter, Auror Ron Weasley, Healer Hermione Granger, Herbology Professor Neville Longbottom, Angst, Flowers, Slavic mythology, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Mentions of Myth & Folklore, Mythology References. Folklore, poland - Freeform, POV Draco Malfoy, Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, Community: Seven Shades of Drarry Summary: On Draco’s 25th birthday, somebody attempts to curse him, but Harry Potter jumps between them and is hit instead, with unexpected consequences. Potter is running out of time, and they both embark on a race against time to find the only cure that could save Harry. Little do they know they will need to face a myriad of magical creatures and their own feelings on the way. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Grounds for Divorce by Tepre Rated: Explicit Words: 122217 Tags: Slow Burn, Pining, UST, Anal Sex, brief but all the same enthusiastic rimming, One (1) lemon tree, Accidental Bonding, And I mean like U! S! T!, Jealousy, Deals with Trauma, They both top at some point, ron is a good friend, Draco is a Good Cook, Dubious Consent due to the Accidental Bonding, The actual SLOWEST burn, Hurt/Comfort, Have I mentioned UST? Cannot overstate this it's like A LOT, First there's frottage, And then there's more sex, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, and just a lot of sex, sex on a bed, sex in the shower, sex on the floor, Sex on a settee, In other news they go to Egypt, Teddy is a Small Bean, There is one (1) cat, and one (1) happy ending Summary: Malfoy finds a coin. Harry finds a letter. A story about histories, a story about families. A story about a lemon tree somewhere in Upper Egypt. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 At Evening's End by manixzen Rated: Explicit Words: 31055 Tags: Pre-Relationship, Angst, Azkaban, Hurt/Comfort, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Slow Burn, Post-Hogwarts, Friendship, Past Child Abuse, Enemies to Friends, Auror Harry Potter, Inmate Draco Malfoy, Prison, Auror Ron Weasley Summary: When the dementors are removed from Azkaban, a compromise has to be made for the prison to remain secure and wizard-kind to feel safe. Harry and Ron find themselves assigned to a rotation as guards during their first year as Junior Aurors as a part of the new system. Harry finds his values challenged in the harsh environment, but an unexpected friendship may carry him through this difficult year. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 all you ever did was wreck me by SailorChibi Rated: Mature Words: 10807 Tags: Post-Hogwarts, Not Epilogue Compliant, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, draco has PTSD, Harry has PTSDN, ightmares, Animagus, Harry is an animagus, prison break - Freeform, Touch-Starved, affection starved, Fear of Death, fear of touch, touch repulsed, Trauma, Aftermath of Torture, harry doesn't want anyone else to die, harry is very angry at the world, Protective Harry, harry had to grow up too soon, Possessive Harry, harry wants to protect draco, house arrest, Ministry of Magic, ministry of magic has gone power hungry, Fear of Magic, draco is scared of magic, it's been used for too much evil, Draco Malfoy Feels, Sad Draco Malfoy, Protective Draco Malfoy, Sharing a Bed, platonically sharing a bed, First Kiss, Hugging, Cuddling, Platonic Cuddling, Harry Potter is a Good Friend, death is scary, Happy Ending, Angst with a Happy Endingh, appyish ending, might be a little bittersweet, but it will be ok I swear Summary: After the war, the Ministry decides to make a clean go of it and sentences all Death Eaters to death. After a year spent imprisoned beneath the Ministry, with his mother safely in France, his father dead and only the Aurors who hate him for "company", Draco is waiting for his time to die. Harry gets to him first. ❤️ Read on AO3

#angst #drarry #drarry recs #game of drarry #wizards hearts #wh masterlist

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stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 3 years

Text

[that’s just what the cold really is]

Sometimes I wake up at one o’clock in the morning to drink some tea and write a briolet oneshot.

Don’t ask why because I don’t know what this is either.

Read on AO3

---

Frost kisses the glass, starting from the wooden frame and spreading across the window. Violet stares past the ice, allowing her mind to clear itself, content to exist and be. How long has she sat there, cross-legged on her desk, watching the stillness of the night? Who knows. Long enough for her nose to become cold enough it stung to breathe through it.

Pressing a finger against the foggy glass, Violet glides it across to draw two eyes and a smile. Dumb and lopsided, she thinks, before smearing away one of the eyes.

With a sigh, Violet climbs off the desk, stiff muscles wincing as her bare feet hit the hardwood floors, so cold it almost hurts to walk.

Another sleepless night in the beginnings of winter, not an unusual occurrence these days. Not when thoughts of the undead and loved ones long lost haunt the most inner workings of her mind, and not when the cold irritates her eye to the point where she could just rub it better.

If only she could put some pressure on it, warm it up enough to be uncomfortably comfortable, but the healing process for the loss of an eyeball is apparently a long and agonizing one. Possibly more so than the actual removal itself, though that’s debatable-- Violet doesn’t have nightmares about healing.

No, these days she still has nightmares about a cell much colder than her dorm, about disfigured faces holding her down as she struggles, spitting more curses than pleas. Lilly’s smug voice echoes in her ear from far away and a woman with a cold, dead stare hovers over her, knife in hand as she commands her to stay still.

Violet reaches her arm out to grab the bar belonging to the top bunk of her bed, the metal cold enough to burn her fingertips. She lets her hand drag along it as she makes her way closer to the door. She wouldn’t want to accidentally walk too close and stub her toe again.

The hallway’s just as dark and still, and it occurs to her that it might be dangerous to walk around here barefoot. Sure, the school’s clearer than it’s ever been thanks to Ruby putting her foot down about everyone being a bunch of pigs, but that doesn’t mean Violet won’t step on a missed piece of glass or a tracked in rock.

Does that scare her enough to turn around and head back into the forlorn darkness of her dorm to try and get some sleep?

Violet makes it down the hall with ease, keeping a hand dragging along to wall to steady her. Not that she really needs to do that. It’s not like she’s completely blind. She still has one eye that’s as good as new, but having only one good eye makes for some poor depth perception most of the time.

The outside chill cuts right through the thin material of her shirt, sinking down into her bones to bring involuntary tremors through her limbs. Rubbing her arms in an attempt to warm them, she ventures into the yard, setting her sight on the stairs leading into the admin building.

She doubts anyone will be in the music room tonight, though she is a little hopeful that Louis might be there. She’d enjoy a song or two tonight, she thinks. He could always was make her laugh, and perhaps that’s what she needed right now.

Louis has his fair share of sleepless nights, and like her, he wanders out here to the music room. Work out frustrations by ‘tickling the ivories,’ as he puts it, or to comfort himself after a bad dream. Violet just hopes that if he’s here tonight that he’s alone. While she enjoys the company of both Louis and Clementine, the two of them being in there together at this time of night probably wouldn’t be the most innocent outing. Violet’s lone eye can only unsee so many things.

“Jesus,” she curses. A particularly harsh gust of wind nearly knocks her down as she climbs the stairs. “Yeah, great, thanks for that.”

Well, if they are in there together, at least they aren’t freezing their asses off.

Violet glares up at the sky, wrinkling her nose at the thought.

Hell, even if they’re both back at the dorms, they’re still warmer together than Violet is out here by herself. Everyone who remains in their bed is warmer than her. Probably.

Her face softens, gaze falling down to the steps beneath her.

Maybe cold nights exist as a reason to drawer people closer to one another, to seek and feel the natural warmth only they could provide. Except what does that mean for those who are cold but lonely? Maybe that’s just what the cold really is, Violet thinks.

Loneliness. Huh.

Shit.

Maybe it’s her pride or the fact that she’s never felt weaker than she has the past six or so months after escaping the delta’s clutch, leaving her eye with them. Fronting that she’s tougher than she really is made her feel better, acting as though she’s content being alone or that she doesn’t need to rely on others for help even if she knows it’s bullshit.

Doing this always bit her in the ass on nights just like this one.

It’s silent within the admin building, so it’s safe to conclude that Louis isn’t here.

She’d never admit her disappointment aloud, but that doesn’t stop the feeling from tugging at her gut. She really hoped he’d be here, hoped they could talk for a while. For as loud and obnoxious as Louis could be, he could listen just as well, be just as quiet and sincere. It’s stupid now to think that she once thought him incapable of serious, deep conversation, not that she ever gave him much of a chance. Not that he gave her much of a chance, either.

Just a couple of dumbasses, she thinks. Oh well.

Violet turns the corner to see the door to the music room wide open, inviting her in. Moonlight leaks in through the curtain slits, reflecting off the floor and the old piano. Strangely, it doesn’t feel as cold in here. At least, not as much as it is outside, or even in the hallway.

She approaches the piano, contemplating if she should sit down. She has no idea how to play, nor does she have any desire to. Resting a hand on the worn-out wood, she curiously admires the inner workings of the piano with all its strings and doohickeys.

Louis offered to teach her once, and she told him that piano music sucks. He never made another offer.

“Vi?”

Violet nearly jumps a foot in the air.

Whipping around, she finds Brody curled up on the couch with a thin blanket over her leg and a mug in hand, wide eyes gazing up at her.

“Shit, sorry,” Brody apologizes, setting her mug on the table beside the armrest. “Didn’t mean to startle you. Just didn’t think you saw me and I didn’t want to be, well, creepin’ over here without ya knowin.’”

Violet presses a hand against her frantic heart, taking a deep breath and nodding.

“No, yeah, definitely didn’t see you. Y’know,” she motions to the patch over her eye, “blind spot.”

Brody seems to stiffen up, but gives an unsure nod, face falling as she glances down at her hands. She stretches out her legs, making like she’s going to stand but changes her mind.

Violet frowns, silently scolding herself.

“What’re you doin’ up?” Brody finally asks.

Violet gives a halfhearted shrug.

“Can’t sleep. Obviously.”

“Your eye?”

“Among other things.”

Brody nods once more, and Violet can’t help but stare at her, even though Brody can probably feel it. Even from here, and with her vision impairment, Brody’s scare is harshly prominent against her more delicate features. Right above her brow, long and discolored now, fully healed.

Violet almost scoffs aloud. Fucking Marlon. She hopes he’s freezing his ass off living down in the old train station now. After what he did to Brody, after finding out what he did to Minnie and Sophie, they kicked him out of Ericson. And even after everything with the raiders, after Marlon helped them escape the boat before it exploded, he’s still not welcome here.

Well, more so Marlon decided it’d be in everyone’s best interest if he didn’t live at Ericson anymore, instead settling in the train station so that he was close enough if they ever needed him. Everyone agreed, even Louis. That was a surprise, but he agreed that Marlon being here with them wouldn’t work anymore, and maybe knowing where Marlon was and that he was safe helped Louis be content with the decision.

Violet’s just glad she doesn’t have to see him every day, and that he’s far away from Brody, but even gone he’s left marks all over this school... all over Brody’s face.

“What about you?” Violet asks to break the awkward pause. “Can’t sleep either?”

“Nah,” Brody finally looks at her, tucking a wild strand of hair behind her ear. Bedhead, Violet thinks. Funny. “Tossin’ and turnin’ don’t suit me. If I’m gonna be awake, I might as well be outta bed and doin’ something.”

“Something like sitting in the dark like a weirdo?”

That gets a small smile from Brody.

“Yeah, somethin’ like that,” she says. “Just wanted some tea and a change of scenery. Wasn’t expecting company...” she trails off, but keeps her gaze on Violet as she quietly adds, “but it’s a welcome surprise.”

Violet almost smiles despite herself, having to bite the inside of her cheek.

Ever since they lost the twins, things have been rocky with Brody. After Clementine and AJ showed up, Violet felt for the first time in a so long that her friendship with Brody was salvageable, that maybe they could be close again. Clementine forced her to see what was really bothering her about Brody and why things were so shitty between them, and Violet found herself wanting to fix it.

Then the truth Marlon and Brody were hiding from them came out, and Violet was beyond pissed. Even with Brody lying in bed, bandages wrapped around her head and her skin sticky and pale, Violet hated her.

Yeah, hated her. Hated her for lying to her face for over a year, for keeping that secret to hide her and Marlon’s guilt, for trying to grow close with her knowing what she had done.

Violet never fathomed that she’d ever forgive Brody, but then Brody healed and could explain everything.

Then the raiders attacked, and she and Brody were taken away, forced to share a cell on the raider’s boat. When Violet failed to cooperate, and they... well, Brody was the one to hold her, sob into her shoulder from within that cell.

Suddenly, a lot of things didn’t seem to matter anymore.

“You want some tea?” Brody offers, holding up her own mug. “It’s minty.”

“No, no...” Violet shakes her head, shifting her weight from one leg to the other.

“It’ll warm ya up. Can see ya shakin’ from over here.”

“Maybe I like the cold.”

“No one likes the cold.”

“Maybe I do.”

Brody rolls her eyes, throwing the blanket off and standing. Over by the fireplace, she lights a match to ignite her makeshift warmer to boil more water.

Violet abandons the piano, finding a place on the opposite side of the couch as Brody wanders about the room, humming to herself. She comes back with another blanket, this one heavier. Violet accepts gratefully, covering her body up to her chin.

Brody hands her to streaming mug, the scent of warm mint clearing her senses. Violet can’t help but groan after taking a sip, the heat spreading through her body.

“Good?”

“It’s okay,” Violet lies. ”I guess.”

Brody smiles. Violet wonders how close she’ll sit now that she’s here, but Brody doesn’t move to do so. Instead, she grabs one of the candles off the piano, flicking a match to light it. Violet raises a brow up at her, which Brody meets with a playful shrug.

“it’s cold,” she says simply, setting the candle down on the small round table.

Violet can’t help it. She laughs. That makes Brody smile.

Her laughter dies when the couch dips with Brody’s weight beside her.

“C’mon,” Brody grins, tugging at the comforter. “Don’t be a hog.”

Violet doesn’t bother putting up a fight, lifting the blanket to let Brody scoot closer. Shoulder to shoulder, they get comfortable.

“Y’know what I miss?” Brody asks.

“Summer?”

“No-- well, actually yes, I do miss summer, but that’s not what I was gonna say,” she brings her long legs us, tucking them beneath her. This makes her lean more into Violet and it takes all her concentration to not spill hot tea over her hands. “I was thinkin’ that I miss jerky.”

“Jerky?”

“Yeah. I used to go on these trips once a year with my dad to see my grandpa. Was always just to two of us, and we’d be on the road for hours, but we’d stop at this gas station-- the same one every time, and he’d get us these long sticks of spicy jerky that you could barely chew without feelin’ like ya were gonna break a tooth.”

“Gross,” Violet wrinkles her nose. “Ever break a tooth?”

“Nah, not really. Sure made my jaw sore by the time I was finished, though. Take ya about an hour to get through the whole thing properly. But Daddy said that was the point. Ya gotta chew it long enough to get all the flavor outta it, otherwise, it’s just a waste.”

“He couldn’t’ve brought you a hotdog or something?”

“You ever have a hotdog from a gas stop?” Brody makes a gagging noise. “Wouldn’t be surprised if those things were made of roadkill off the highway.”

“How’s that any different than what we eat now?” Violet asks, teasing. “It’s just in stew form instead.”

“I’ll tell him you compared his famous stew to flea-bitten roadkill.”

“Do it,” Violet challenges with a smirk, setting her tea aside. “I can take him.”

Brody snorts out a laugh, hand flying up to cover her mouth to muffle the outburst, managing an, “Oh god,” out.

Once Brody gets a hold of herself, Violet says, “Never had jerky like that. Though I didn’t go on many road trips.”

“We could go on one,” Brody suggests lightly, nudging her. “Get away from here, go find a beach somewhere and sit in the sun.”

“Only if I get to drive.”

Brody, a soft smile tugging at her lips, wraps an arm around Violet’s shoulders to pull her close, gently rubbing more heat into her arm.

Despite the heaviness in Violet’s stomach, it flutters at the feeling of her body pressed against Brody’s. She hesitates, but eventually leans into the warmth of her side, resting her head in the crook of Brody’s neck while slipping her arms around her waist.

“Can’t tell anyone we’re goin,’ though,” Brody mumbles. “I’m not spending days in a car with Louis and his singalongs.”

“Twenty-five bottles of beers on the wall, twenty-five bottles of beer-”

“Oh god.”

“-take one down--”

“No!”

“-pass it around-”

Brody’s hand presses over Violet’s mouth to silence her, all while the both of them laugh together. For the first time that night, Violet doesn’t feel a single chill prick at her skin. She pulls Brody’s hand from her face, holding it in her own. When Brody doesn’t pull away, she takes a risk in lacing their fingers together.

Brody squeezes her hand back in approval.

The laughter dies down. Brody pulls the blanket closer over them, and together they sit for a while.

Just as Violet’s eye begins to droop shut, the fatigue finally hitting her, Brody’s lips press against her forehead. Violet thinks to turn her head up to kiss Brody back, really kiss her, but doesn’t.

Too tired, too comfortable, too warm.

Violet allows sleep to take her.

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jawritter · 4 years

Text

You and Me...

Chapter 9

***SERIES WARNINGS**** Rape, non-con, male!rape, injury, violence, description of injury caused by rape, nightmares, self-harm, panic attacks, implied female non-con, language, ass hole Jensen, hurt!Jensen, dark fic, smut. If there is anything else I will add it as I go.

***Chapter Warnings*** Very brief flashback and highly suggestive descriptions of rape!, Panic Attack, mentions of nightmare, language probably, talk of injury via rape. angst, very little bit of fluff, I think that’s everything.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Jared x Reader

Word Count: 2069

A/N: Anyway, all mistakes are mine, please don’t copy my work, Feedback is golden. If you want to be added to the series tag list, or my tag list just let me know! I hope you enjoy this one. This is something I actually did and witness, and I realize this one might be hard to read because it is a little heavy.

Summary: It’s funny how one choice you made can change your whole life. One mistake can alter your course, and set you on a path that forever will haunt you. Two people find themselves getting through one of the hardest trials of Jensen’s life, on just one small promise. You and Me. We’ll get through it together…

Want more? Check out my Masterlist!!

***MASTERLIST***

***YOU AND ME MASTERLIST***

The sun hadn’t even peeked over the buildings when Jared made his way down the hallways toward Jensen’s hospital room. When he walked into the room Jensen was still asleep on your shoulder with one arm wrapped around your middle. He'd been like that for hours, but you didn't have the heart to try and move him. He was so sound asleep, and still snoring lightly. His body needed to rest.

Jared stood frozen in the doorway taking in the sight that was in front of him.

He was overly glad Jensen was letting someone touch him, but he was concerned non the less. His struggle with this was far from over. You being that close to him means he must have had a really bad night.

You look over and see Jared standing there frozen in the doorway, and put your finger to your lips in a shushing manner. He nodded his head and quietly walked over the couch next to you.

"Bad night?" he whispered, trying not to wake up his friend, but he just had to know how what he was witnessing came to be.

"Very bad nightmare. After he stopped vomiting he laid down here," you nodded toward your shoulder lightly. "He's been sleeping ever since," you whisper to him. Jensen's arm muscles tensed, but he didn't wake up.

You were a little afraid of what his reaction would be when he woke up. You were secretly glad Jared had shown up before he woke up. He very well might freak out at the close contact. Even though he's the one that put himself there.

Jared nodded, looking his friend over quietly as if he could see past what was going on in front of him, and could try to read what was going on inside Jensen’s head.

"That was the first. He hadn't had any nightmares while I was here,” he said, standing to get a better look at him.

"I asked the nurse when she came in to check on him about thirty minutes ago," you told him in a hushed whisper. "She said it's probably because last night he wasn't as heavily medicated as he was the past three nights. Since he's been up moving around, and quiet they haven't been giving him as many medications. So he was in more natural sleep, and less drug-induced sleep."

This time Jensen moved his head against your shoulder. Still fighting to stay asleep. His every breath now brushing against the skin on your throat making a very light shiver run through you. Jared watched him carefully thinking for a moment that he was going to wake up.

"You think they're gonna still let him go home?" he asked, worried that since he had such a bad night it had set him back; and they weren’t going to want to let him go home.

"Well the doctor hasn't made his rounds yet, but the charge nurse seems to think so," you take your free hand and rub your face with it.

This time you felt Jensen move his legs and grunt in the back of his throat. Slowly starting to move around more. This was it. Showtime.

You and Jared share a worried look, neither of you knew what he was going to wake up like with you that close to him.

Jensen's POV:

Jensen could hear talking way off in the distance, but sleep still tugged hard at the corners of his consciousness. Holding his body down and not letting his mind become fully aware of where he was, or who was in the room with him.

He could make out Y/N's voice somewhere close to him as he became more and more alert.

The more aware he became the more his body protested. He remembered having a nightmare, and waking up harshly and nauseous.

He could still feel them when he woke up last night...

Pulling, pushing, sucking. His body responding to them even though he didn't want it to, even though he hated what they were doing to him. Hated how they were hurting him. It betrayed him, aging on his torturers.

Nausea treated him, to take over again. He needed to wake up before he slipped back into the nightmare.

He groaned, trying to get his body to come to full consciousness. He could feel someone's warm body laying next to him. Y/N's voice became more clear. He thought he could hear Jared in the room too.

He was with them...

In the hospital….

He was safe...

At least that’s what he kept telling himself.

"He's waking up," he hears Jared say as his eyes flutter open.

He was really close to someone with his arm draped over them.

Y/N? He looks up and sees her looking down at him with her face draped in worry.

"Good morning," she tells him softly as if she spoke to loudly it would freak him out.

Jensen’s body starts to protest the close proximity, but his mind is screaming that he needs it. That he wants someone to be close to him.

His muscles started jerking under his skin but he ignored them.

"Morning," he managed to mumble, burrowing His face into her neck again, even though his instinct screamed that being this close to someone means that they are going to hurt him.

“No, Y/N isn't going to hurt you,” he argued with his own subconscious.

She starts to shift to leave him, and Jensen tightens his grip on her so that she would lay back down.

"Jensen? Are you okay?" she asked. He was sure that she could feel him shaking.

"Yeah, just don't wanna get up," he told her.

He’s got to get past this being close to someone issue.

He wants to be able to kiss her one day. He wants to be able to be close to her one day. He wants to be able to be in a real relationship with her one day.

Funny how laying three days in a hotel room being tortured, raped, and beaten repeated can make you sort out your priorities quickly. Especially when you think the only way out of what you’re in is death…

He'd wanted to kiss her since the moment you met her. To feel her lips pressed against his. Instead, he got scared of the way he felt and acted like a jackass. Ultimately landing himself here.

She reaches up and runs her fingers through his hair, and he hums a little into her neck. He could feel her shiver under him.

This isn't so bad. In fact, it's a little comforting.

He was on your way back to sleep when he heard a knock on your door. “Damn that stupid doctor is here,” he thought to himself before he started to tremble again. 'He's gonna want to check me.'

Your POV:

Jensen wouldn't let you get up. He was holding himself close to you, and hiding his face in your neck. You and Jared both let out a breath in relief. He was shaking at first. Now he'd relaxed and was falling back asleep. At least he was until the doctor knocked at the door, nearly making everyone in the room jump out of their skin.

"Mr. Ackles? Are you awake?" he asked, turning on the light in the mostly dark room.

Jensen groaned against the light that had invaded the room that left you and Jared blinking, but didn’t answer the doctor directly. Instead, he chose to bury his face deeper into your throat, trying to escape the light, and probably the doctor.

"Do you still want to go home today?" he asked, walking up to the side of the bed, ignoring you completely.

Jensen said nothing.

"I see you've let your friend here sleep next to you last night. They tell me you've been eating and moving around on your own."

Jensen was still hidden against your neck. You could feel his breath quicken in anticipation of whatever he thought the doctor was going to do to him, and you instinctively tightened your grip on him.

"I just want to go home," Jensen said, still not looking at him.

"Well, if you’re not in a lot of pain I don't see why you should have to stay here, but if I'm going to release you though I'm going to have to check you to make sure the swelling around your ribs has gone down, and the bruising around your genital area is healing, and not getting any worse. Don’t worry, I’m not going to touch anything but your ribs, I just need to take a peek, and then we’re done. You will be glad to know that the results of the rape kit that was performed on you came back and everything is clean"

At those words, Jensen started to grip you tighter, not saying anything. You could feel warm wet tears falling against your neck.

"I'll be quick, I promise. It's not gonna hurt at all. Then once I'm done I'll sign your discharge papers and you can go home. I just need to make sure that we got the swelling under control before you leave."

Jensen said nothing, he was stiff as a board, and judging by his breathing, on the edge of a panic attack.

The doctor pulled the gloves over his hand, and Jensen’s breathing became tighter. Jared walked over to the other side of the bed next to you.

"I don't think we're gonna be able to move him," you told the doctor looking down at the death grip he had around you, and honestly, if they did try and move you, you were pretty sure it was going to throw him into a full-fledged panic attack.

"It's okay. He's fine like he is if it makes him feel better. I can check him laying on his side just like this, all we will have to do is rotate his hips towards me some when I tell you to," he told you, nodding at Jared, and motioning for the nurse that was with him just to stand back and give Jensen a little space not wanting to put too many unfamiliar hands on him.

Jared’s mouth was formed in a tight line as he nodded at the doctor, and looked over Jensen’s now practically vibrating body.

"Okay, Mr. Ackles, I'm going to check your ribs first," he lifted the cover and his T-shirt, looking at the bruising on his side pressing lightly. Jensen squirmed and whimpered against you, but you couldn’t tell if it was because of the amount of pain he was feeling, or if he just didn’t want to be touched.

"Looks good," the doctor said, pulling his shirt back in place.

"Okay, Now Mr. Ackles, I’m not going to touch you, I just need to look. That’s all," he pulled the cover back, and Jared pulled Jensen’s lower body away from you, sliding his hips over carefully into the position the doctor was indicating.

Sliding his shorts down his body the doctor pulled his left leg apart from the other, keeping his promise and not touching him.

Jensen was pretty close to hysterical at this point. He was clinging to you as if he’d die if he let go of you. His breaths came in a short burst. Tears were rolling down his face, as you tried your best to shush him.

"Almost done. You're doing great," the doctor said.

Jensen started to squirm and the doctor pulled his shorts back into place as gently as he could. Jared helped him roll back over to his side.

"Okay, everything looks good. We won't have to do that again," he told him. “Everything seems to be healing up just like we need it to. You should be just fine. I'll go sign your discharge papers and you can go home. The nurse will come in and give you instructions on care and pain management once your paperwork is done," he said as he closed the door, leaving a whimpering, crying, mess laying next to you.

You stayed here with him shushing him, and running your fingers through his hair because it seemed to calm him earlier.

"It's okay, man, you're getting out of here today," Jared said, gently placing a hand on his friend's shoulder.

You’d seen a lot of shit in your life, a lot of medical shit too because of your mother, but this was by far the hardest thing you’d ever watched, and the doctor hadn’t even touched him.

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

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#jensnen ackles #jensen ackles dark fic #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles fanfic #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x reader #hurt!jensen #sick!jensen #jensen x reader #jensen x you #fanfition #dark!fic #spn #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #dean winchester #you and me #jawritter

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thedeviltohisangel · 3 years

Text

Hourglass//1//

Normally the sound of her voice brought, at the very least, happiness. It meant he could put down the walls and smile and laugh and not worry about someone judging him for every action he made. But right now he wasn’t in the mood. He wanted to be alone. He wanted to drink and wallow and feel bad for himself. She would never let him wallow. He splashed some cold water on his face as he heard her footsteps coming up the stairs.

masterlist is my url/writing

accepting requests for this pairing

“Nix? You in here?” Normally the sound of her voice brought, at the very least, happiness. It meant he could put down the walls and smile and laugh and not worry about someone judging him for every action he made. But right now he wasn’t in the mood. He wanted to be alone. He wanted to drink and wallow and feel bad for himself. She would never let him wallow. He splashed some cold water on his face as he heard her footsteps coming up the stairs.

“In here,” he called back. No point in trying to avoid her now.

“Hey. Just came to check in. Speirs said you looked a little...forlorn.” Ron had actually said Nixon looked like shit. “Jump not great?”

“I made it out. Two others behind me made it out. Others got blown up over Germany somewhere.” She noticed his hand was shaking as he poured another glass of Vat 69.

“Sorry to hear that.”

“Oh, well. Wasn’t me!” He threw the empty bottle into the trash then stalked out of the room.

“Nix-”

“No, El, I don’t have the capacity for your psychological probing tonight.” Ella stopped behind one of the chairs around the table he was sitting at.

“It’s either I do it or Dick does it.” She knew the man in question was on his way right now. Intending to tell Nixon about his recent demotion. Ella had asked Dick to let her go first. Maybe she could soften him up or help him anticipate the blow. Didn’t seem like she would be able to do either.

“I don’t want to see him. How about you leave and go tell him that?” She let him down two more glasses of whiskey before speaking.

“Please don’t speak to me like that. You’ve had a crap day and too much to drink but I deserve more than that tone right now.”

“Stop behaving like a fuckng princess or whatever it is you are. The world sucks and sometimes people don’t bow to you.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry and she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of her leaving.

“Why do you do this to me?” Ella was getting tired. Tired of Lewis Nixon and all the baggage that went along with him. Tired of long nights filled with whispers and gentle touches. Tired of those mornings being filled with him not remembering. Tired of having to remind him he was married and he shouldn’t tell Ella how much he loved her and wanted to marry her. Tired of Nix getting drunk and twisting the knife into her ribs she had trusted him with.

“Because you can’t take the hint that I don’t want to be around you. I don’t love you. Maybe I never did. Let me live out the rest of this war in peace, Ella.” Nix knew the only reason he held himself together while saying those words was because of the alcohol in his glass. Otherwise he’d be shaking like he did back in Bastogne. Would have shed more than a few tears. He knew, and she knew, that he didn’t mean those words anymore than he meant any words he said when he was drunk. But Nix couldn’t spend one more moment around her without wanting to burn the world down so they could be together. Pushing her away was the only way to put down the torch.

“Well, sadly, Lewis Nixon...I love you.” Her words hit him one at a time, each blow being absorbed individually, as she walked slower out of the house than she had in. Heavier footsteps followed her retreating ones. No doubt Dick had decided to make his entrance after seeing the woman with her head hung so low.

“Hey.”

“I told her I didn’t love her. Never did.” Dick didn’t even need to ask.

“Was it you or the Vat 69 talking?”

“Both. I’m married, remember?” People in the Nixon family didn’t get divorced. People in her family didn’t marry men who had been married before. It wouldn’t have worked even if they tried.

“I thought we were all forgetting that,” Dick noted sarcastically. He had made that same point to his friend more times than he could count. Each time it was waved and explained away.

“It’s for the best we both stop seeing each other. In any capacity.” He took the last bit from the bottle.

“Maybe it’s for the best you stop that too.” Everyone had noticed that the drinking was beginning to be too much. That Nix was slowly but surely slipping away.

“At least now that she’s gone I don’t have to be ganged up on all the time.” Nix stood angrily from the chair and moved back towards his bedroom. What he needed was a nice long sleep. Maybe to never even wake up again.

“How long do you think that will last?”

“Excuse me?” Nix asked with an edge to his voice that was entirely on purpose.

“As soon as you sober up, you’ll be asking her to take you back.” He did it all the time. And every time he said it was the last time and every time Ella said next time she wouldn't take him back. Dick had watched the toxic cycle repeat over and over the past few months. Try as he might, he knew there was no stopping them. Maybe in a convoluted way, they were meant to be together. But this was no backdrop for it. This was no way to live or love.

“I’m so sick of people acting like they know me. Saying they know me better than I know myself. Ella and I are not meant to be together. We were not made for each other to have in this lifetime. I’ve accepted that, Dick. Watching those boys die today made me realize that I should stop trying to force my way into her life. Stop trying to force her into mine.” He collapsed onto his bed and hung his head. “We aren’t always meant to be with our soulmates. Sometimes loving someone isn’t enough.” Oh but Nixon knew it was quite the opposite. That he loved Ella too much. That is was all encompassing and sometimes suffocated him. That touching her was like touching a pan on a stove top. It burned and lingered. If he allowed himself to love her, truly love her the way he wished to, they’d burn out. And that would hurt even more.

“The press keep hounding me on when you’ll be in a safe enough place for them to interview you again. The magazines back home have you on every cover and they want more.” Ella rolled her eyes as she lit a cigarette and continued to stomp her way through the streets of Germany.

“Can’t you remind them this is a war?” She was fully aware that the government had signed off on her trip to the frontline because of the glorified nature the coverage would take. The last name Ford meant cameras followed where she went. It meant she had had no problem procuring a lipstick or a clean dress. But the men around her had been unable to secure a hot meal or warm coat. It felt wrong.

“No. I can’t.”

“That’s an unacceptable answer, Mr. Perry. Either you manage the hounds on your end or I will light them on fire when they get too close. Is that understood?” She was in no mood to play politics with media magnates hundreds of miles away. She didn’t want to blame her mood on Lew but she was. Fighting with him took so much out of her. His words also cut to a level where it felt like pieces of her were being removed. Right now she was like a wounded animal who needed somewhere quiet and dark to heal.

“Miss Ford-” She shut the door behind her before her handlers could follow her into the building she had been using as refuge the past couple of days.

“How’d that go?” It was Ron, the reason she had found herself wandering Nixon’s way in the first place. She wonders if Dick was able to talk to him. How he was taking the news of his demotion. Then she remembered she didn’t care anymore and shook the thought from her mind.

“Nix and his jump or the demons that follow me around all day?” She flicked her current cigarette to the side and lit a new one.

“Both.”

“Well the jump was a disaster and Lewis Nixon wishes to never see me again-”

“El-”

“-and the papers back home want another interview and photo call with me but I just don’t think I can do that anymore. I don’t think I want to be here anymore. In fact, I think I am quite ready to go home.” It was as if saying the words out loud made them make perfect sense. That was that and her mind was made up. She would start packing her bag right now.

“I don’t know him that well but I doubt he meant what he said.” Ron followed her into her room and felt helpless as she started shoving things into bags.

“That’s the thing. I’ve had it completely backwards. I thought he was his most honest when he was sober but today I’ve realized that that is not when he is his true self. He is his truest self when he is drowning in whiskey. Those are the moments when he has lied to me. Today was his first time telling me the truth.” She felt unwanted. Like a scrap no one wanted. All she was good for was parading around in pretty dresses and smiling for the cameras. Everyone wanted a piece of her image but no one wanted the real her.

“If it’s any consolation, the rest of the guys like you a lot.” She had to smile at that. For some reason she had been drawn to Ron and the rest of Easy. She recognized the same outcast in them she had in herself. They were a band of misfits but that is what kept them so close together. Bonded them for life. She considered herself lucky to get to experience that if only for a moment in time.

“It is. Thank you, Ron.” She took one last deep breath, shouldered her bag and marched back the way she had come. The group of bloodthirsty monsters she had left were still there waiting for.

“Ma’am, we-”

“I’ve made a decision, Mr. Perry. I’m ready to go home. The press can feast on me from the states.”

Reading that Kathy wanted a divorce was harder to process than Nix thinks it should’ve been. By all accounts, it had been the news he had been waiting for. The puzzle piece he had only let him think would fall into place in his darkest moments. It was hard to be confronted with something you told yourself would never happen. He had no idea how to react. Who should he tell first? Ella? Well that bridge had been burned. Dick? No. He would tell Nix to tell Ella. But his inability to divorce Kathy had been one of the exact reasons he cited for her to never see him again. He wouldn’t be able to tuck his tail far enough between his legs.

“What’s that?” Dick noticed the look on Nix’s face. It was one that said he wasn’t really there. That is mind was so far away it might be worth trying to get it back.

“She’s divorcing me. Kathy. Well, she wants one. And she’s taking the kid and the dog. Which doesn’t make any sense because it’s my goddamn dog and she hates that dog-”

“Nix.” Even though Dick loved him like a brother, he didn’t have all the time in the world to listen to his ramblings. “Are you going to give her what she’s asking for?”

“I don’t have a fucking choice, do I? I’m here and she’s there.” He ripped a cigarette from his breast pocket, the lighter needing some coaxing before it finally flared to life and gave him some relief. “Do I tell Ella?” Dick knew what he was really asking. After all the shit I’ve put her through, are we really meant to be together?

“Colonel Sink told me she’s being put on the first flight back to the states.”

“What? That’s not possible.” Nix knew for a fact she always said she wanted to be with the men when it all ended. Be with him. Celebrate with him.

“Whatever you said to her the other night made her decision all the easier. Apparently, her presence is merely a distraction from the important task at hand. And she could better serve her country lobbying for war bonds back home than stealing rations from the soldiers on the front line.” Dick said the words in such a bland way that Nix almost wasn’t able to process them. All he knew was that she was leaving. She was leaving and it was because of him.

“What do I do, Dick? Let her go or ask her to stay?” Nix knew it was love but he also knew that love wasn’t always enough. Ella deserved better but he was a selfish man. He needed her more than he ever had ever needed whiskey. There was no victory for him if she wasn’t there for it. The letter in his hands was a sign that there was a piece missing in his puzzle. He had forced his marriage to try and fit into it. But he had been wrong. It had been in his pocket this entire time. He just hadn’t had the courage to put it where it belonged. But now he did. He had no choice.

#lewis nixon #band of brothers #ron livingston #lewis nixon fanfiction #band of brothers fanfiction #hbo war #hbo war fanfiction

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treechangeseachange · 3 years

Text

The return

It’s coming up to 3 months since we returned to our block and it took us 8 weeks to slow down. On the weekend we slowed down we enjoyed the first official Friday night catch up with our neighbours as the full moon rose. On Saturday we went out for brunch. No sport on Sunday morning meant a sleep in. I played handball with my boys for the first time ever in my life. Lamb shanks slow cooked on the wood heater. We squeezed in a late Sunday afternoon fishing trip. It took us 8 weeks to find some calm. We had forgotten how to do normal. I haven’t written for this blog since um wow December?! My leisure time since then has been extremely limited and when it occurred I prioritised my mental wellbeing and sleep.

This journey has brought me to the edge of my psychological and physical limitations. I watched my husband do a terminator style non stop renovation while trying also to commence a rebuild. His promises to take time off over Christmas dwindled to 2 days. There was so much to do. I helped with whatever jobs I was able to and then focussed on the household and occasionally, our boys. Midway through January this year we realised trying to work on both the renovation and the rebuild was insanity. The local real-estate market was booming. Post COVID, Sydney city dwellers realised they could put in a few days in the city then work from their coastal holiday pad the rest of the week. We decided to get our investment property, come bushfire haven, onto the market before the summer ended. We mapped out each remaining job and the days required to accomplish them. We calculated selling time, settlement time and remaining bank balance. What were need to do’s and what were optional extras. If everything went to plan, we could pay to get some work done at the block and make it habitable enough to move into. It was an extreme test of time, energy and resources.

It worked. We listed by the end of February, sold in three weeks and settled five weeks after settlement. I write that all in one glib sentence. Of course all of that only happened with considerable focus and effort. Life for the boys was hectic. 99% of their toys were packed and moved into storage weeks before the house went on the market. As the house neared completion we stressed about them damaging something. When the house was on the market we stressed about them getting things dirty - the walls, the windows or the cupboards. I banished them from the bathroom, they had to brush teeth in the laundry and shower outside. Luckily it was warm and didn’t rain much in those few weeks! Anyone who has sold a house while living in it knows how painful open homes are. The logistics and effort of cleaning and styling, while working full time from home, scheduling everything between work appointments, getting the dog out of the way and the boys to school, nearly broke me. Thankfully the selling process was short, but we packed a lot of opens into that time and by the end of it all, I had become a shouty, grouchy mum and wife. It was also a real highlight to hit menopause and bring some phenomenal hormonal energy into the mix. Phew.

Before we packed up and left I was lucky enough to have a week away with the boys. My fully wired self hit Melbs and my family gave me refuge and forgave my intensity. We managed some fun and the change of scenery was a big relief. Husband, however, stayed behind to work on the temporary shed home. Holiday behind me, I returned to packup and clean and polish the house for the financial return of our lives. Literally.

Can you then imagine our triumphant and spectacular return to our block bathed in happiness and light? Um well perhaps instead picture this - we arrived exhausted to an unpowered, work in progress temporary residence in the middle of a mice plague and endured 200ml of heavy rain in four days leaving us surrounded by mud. Happy to catch the rain in our tank? I wish! The new tank leaked 8000L the week before we moved, and only our neighbour’s spare tank loan meant we had any water at all. But being so small, it overflowed and made even more mud. The heavy rain was so loud on the tin roof it frequently woke the kids in the night (who then woke us), mice ran across the floor, huntsmen spiders dropped from the ceiling. With nowhere really to unpack things, cooking became like the biggest ever memory game, which box were the bowls in? Where did I pack the cutlery? The rain delayed our solar power install so for 10 days we lived out of an esky and by torchlight. We both kept working full time, getting the boys to school, after school sport commitments and then husband kept building after he got home and into the night. After a week of stress and chaos we knew something had to give, fortunately husband could take time off work to focus on our build and family life.

Fast forward to now. The financial pressure of the summer has eased. The temporary living quarters are functional and steadily improving. We have a beautiful wood heater. Our off grid solar system is powering us even during these short winter days. I have more kitchen cupboards than ever before, plus a dishwasher! I have hung up my clothes in a full wardrobe for the first time in nearly four years. The boys each have clean new wardrobes. Their separate rooms are still being built so they are in what will be our room which is insulated and wall paneled. We can cope with an outside shower and toilet. My husband is a legend.

What’s it like actually being back? I confess I was nervous about my own and the boys emotions. Eldest son is extremely happy to be back. Youngest son has taken time to adjust but that has more been due to his fear of the dark. The noises of the bush are unfamiliar and there are no streetlights out here! There has only been one time where a prebushfire memory overwhelmed me. Every person’s bushfire experience and recovery is unique. Unlike many others we are fortunate have the opportunity to not have to build on the exact footprint of the old place and I think this is psychologically helpful. It’s not the same space, and with some trees dead and gone the landscape is altered, its a slightly different perspective. The boys are older now, so our lifestyle is different too. Slowly we are finding a new rhythm on our land. The boys are absolutely loving being back on their bikes on bush tracks.

I was excited to resume my morning walks, although maybe not as excited the dog! He’s happy to have his off-lead roam again. But the first week of walking I found tough, the burnt and recovering state forest I traverse didn’t bring me the joy it used to. In the heavily logged areas where only isolated saplings were left unlogged, they couldn’t survive the heat of the fire or they didn’t have community trees to share nutrients through their roots to support recovery. The undergrowth is now the canopy and is booming with all the extra sunlight but when I look at it, all I see is fire hazard. Then as the weeks went by, my view softened, I recognise the bush is healing like me. I am appreciating small wonders of nature. A spider’s web highlighted with morning dew or the fascination of new plants thriving. There are trees that have fully recovered, others seem to be doing well, and there is much green in the landscape to enjoy.

On my morning walk I also see which animals are about in the night from what they leave behind. There is at least one very busy wombat! We see wallabies reasonably often and last week one morning I found big roo prints in the clay right near our place. We hear a boobook owl calling most nights and more frogs chirping croaking from the gully than I ever remember. Which now makes sense, we definitely were in drought for some years prior to the fires and the creek has this year been running for months. Less exciting is hearing foxes at night, my son especially dislikes their eerie calls. In daytime the bird life is altered. We are down to one lyrebird, there used to be two with adjacent territories battling loudly with their extraordinary mimicry. But at least there is one, how a ground bird survived I can’t imagine. The yellow robins aren’t around us now, we have wrens in the cleared spaces and in the lush shrubs busy brown gerygones dart and chirp. A shrike thrush has made a nest in our bushfire remains pile, her song is piercing and wonderful. Rarely are the yellow crested black cockatoos here now. This past weekend we did see two circling wedge tailed eagles the silent assassins of the sky wheeling high over the gully with that phenomenal wingspan.

Surprisingly my greatest source of happiness in these first few months being back has come from the sky. Unobstructed by buildings, the sky feels bigger in the bush. I’m loving the late winter sunrises. My very favourite time is just after the sun has risen when the horizontal sun rays set tops of the trees bright orange. Those are magical minutes of golden tinged trees. The sunsets. The stars. The moon. the sky has been a revelation and a source of happiness. Maybe because I’m spending more time outside I notice it more. Seeing glittering stars through the steam of a hot outdoor shower makes the cold walk inside completely worth it!

Slowly I am regaining my sense of gratitude for this place. The quiet. The privilege of not seeing another house. Having no curtains and that not mattering. Not worrying about noise and neighbours. Lack of street lights at night.

All of a sudden things aren’t hectic and we are settling in. It still amazes me after 6 moves in 5 years how intense moving is and then how imperceptibly things transition to not being new anymore. Normalcy sneaks up on me every time. Clearly this isn’t really normal but we’re enjoying this new start in our old place.

#treechange #seachange #nswbushfires #recovery #offgrid

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faulty-writes · 4 years

Note

Bakugou one shot-reader gets attacked by a villin with a quirk that makes y/n just insanely sad, make them want to give up, that there’s no point, feeling worthless. And although the hero’s capture the villain y/n’s attitude stays the same. Super angsty but ending in fluff please? 💛

WARNING: Negative Thoughts, Struggles With Self Worth and Confidence, Suicide Mention.

You looked with a blank expression as your classmates laughed, the sound mocking you. How could they be happy? Happiness was a joke or at least that’s what you thought. You let out a sigh as your hands run through your hair, fingers scratching your scalp before taking hold and violently pulling. The dull ache that came was only a cruel reminder that you were alive, that your heart was still beating even though at the moment, it felt hollow in your chest. No one seemed to care about your dilemma or so you believed.

Bakugou watched you from his position on top of the desk, much to Iida’s dislike. Though much like you, he had emotions stirring up inside him. He was there when the villain attacked you, he blamed himself for not being able to move fast enough and he witnessed that strange mist hit you. Effectively making you collapse, Bakugou was the one that carried you to the hospital and your teachers decided to take a cautious approach. Not fully knowing what the effects of the quirk that hit you would be.

After a few days, some of your teachers began assuming it was nothing. Which was something that pissed Bakugou off, the teachers must have been blind not to see your change of behavior. Your smile was gone, your shoulders were slumped, there was a dull blank look in your eye and you began to walk with your head down. Then again, maybe he should be blaming himself. He assumed that once they had captured the villain, their quirk, or whatever connection they had to you would be broken. But, that didn’t seem to be the case.

In fact, this feeling you had. This depressing cloud that hung over your head only grew and you were beginning to get negative thoughts. At first, they were just simple doubts about your life, your dream of becoming a hero. But then, you began to question your self-worth. Were you good enough, would the world miss you if you were gone? Though you had tried to win the battle inside your head, you found yourself slowly succumbing to the darkness. You began to distance yourself from your friends and locking yourself away when school hours were over.

Though a few friends showed concern, you played it off as nothing. Just that you weren’t feeling well, if only they knew that you had begun to cry yourself to sleep. The tears never seemed to stop and the feeling of being utterly useless, worthless plagued your mind. This mindset stayed with you even during training, you normally gave it your all. Never letting yourself get hit, always finding a way to win the fight. Not lately, it was almost like you had willingly allowed yourself to get hit, battered, and beaten.

Bakugou always seemed to be the one to carry you to the nurse’s office and while you felt his suspicious glance practically burning a hole through you. It didn’t matter and you found that you could care less about it. After all, what could he do? What words or actions could possibly make you feel more worthless than you did now? Did anything really matter in the end? The answer was obvious, but that didn’t stop Bakugou from asking you, “What the hell is up with you lately!?” he placed you down onto the bed, if you weren’t so depressed you would almost be thankful that you were in the nurse’s office.

You pressed your lips together, not willing to answer him. What could you even tell him, your words weren’t important. You weren’t important, only someone to be forgotten at the end of each day. “Hey!” he snapped and though you didn’t want to, a wince came when he grabbed your jaw. Forcing your head up, you could feel his nails dig into your skin but you didn’t care. Pain was the only thing you had left and in that sense, you were almost happy. Sadness was the emotion you had come to rely on.

He clenched his jaw, though you didn’t care that he was angry. He lowered his head and you looked into his fiery red eyes. “Just what the hell happened to you, dumbass!? Ever since you got hit with that quirk, you haven't been the same. Don’t think I haven’t noticed this bullshit depression you’ve been going through.” he said, squeezing your jaw, and more than likely his nails would leave marks. “So either tell me or I’m going to fucking-” he let out a cry when he felt a fist collide with the back of his knee. “Now, now. That isn’t the way you talk to someone who's injured.” Recovery Girl said, looking at Bakugou who was now holding his aching knee.

He growled in response, glaring at the old woman. “B-Bitch …” he muttered under his breath, but Recovery Girl only hit him again. “That’s no way to talk, now if you’d please take your leave. I have work to do,” she said as she turned to you, though your injuries weren’t severe by any means. She still cared about the students and was willing to take care of small wounds and cuts as well. It was in her nature, but as Bakugou learned even someone that was made for healing could still inflict pain upon others. “Grumpy old woman …” he muttered as he wobbled onto his feet, hopping out of the nurse’s office with his one good leg.

“This isn’t over, y/n!” he warned you, but you were unmoved by his words. Your head hanging low, you almost wanted to tell Recovery Girl you didn’t want your injuries healed. But you knew that would just cause concern and your stomach twisted, what a disgusting thing to think about. Someone actually caring about you, no one cared. They could pretend, but it meant nothing. Just like you. Tingles coursed through your body as Recovery Girl used her quirk, but you only shook your head. Trying to hold back the tears that threatened to come.

After you were healed, Recovery Girl gave you instructions to get back to class, but you didn’t want to face anyone. Didn’t want to see their expressions when the failure of Class 1-A walked back into the room. So instead, you made your way back to the dorm building. An easy task when there were no teachers around, but much like always. Your head was hanging as you walked there, tears dripping down your cheeks and soaking into the ground below. Bakugou’s words seemed to ring in your head, what did he mean by this isn’t over?

You had already decided it was and once you reached the dorm building, you looked up to the roof. Over. Your heart was racing as you made your way to the roof, negative thoughts plaguing your mind. Screaming as you slowly stepped onto the railing, looking at the ground before you. ‘Jump ...do it. Just one last action and your pain is all over’ the voice echoed and you almost swore you recognized it. But once more, it didn’t matter. ‘Do it’ you took a deep breath and closed your eyes, spreading your arms. A moment of silence came before you stepped over the edge.

The ambulance arrived shortly after, the flashing lights illuminating the dorm building and students were gathered around. Chatter filled the air and most of the students were wondering what happened. Bakugou pushed through the crowd, the police were holding the students back. Informing them that they could proceed once the area was clear. Bakugou huffed and for a moment, he was worried if this had anything to do with you. He had been concerned when you didn’t return from the nurse’s office and had actively searched for you during his free period.

But you were nowhere to be found, until now. His eyes widened and he felt his heart sink, an odd numbness coursed through him as he saw your body on the stretcher. He could tell you were covered in blood and all at once his world went silent. “Y/n!” he shouted as he tried to push past the police officers who in turn grabbed him with force, warning him to calm down. “Y/n! No ...let go of me, dumbasses!” he pleaded and watched as your body was loaded onto the ambulance. A few tears rolled down his cheeks, just watching you get carried away.

You had tried to commit suicide. But you weren’t successful, which was a relief to some. You had slipped into a deep slumber for a few days before you woke up, when you opened your eyes you found yourself staring at the ceiling. You blinked, your mind slowly recalling what had happened. You quickly sat up, looking around the room. Flowers were everywhere, making the room colorful. “What happened …” you questioned, though you had recalled most of it. There were some parts that were fuzzy.

You jumped when a knock sounded and turned your attention to the door, despite your head aching. You watched Bakugou walk into the room, your eyes shifting to the yellow flowers he had in his hand. “I’m surprised to see you awake, after a dumbass move like that,” he said, but you only replied with silence as he walked over and held the flowers out to you. “Huh?” you stared at them before looking at Bakugou. His lips were turned up in a pout and his eyes were looking away from you. “Well …” he said, “Take the damned flowers!” he snapped, once more causing you to jump.

You quickly snatched them from his hand and cradled them to your chest, inhaling their sweet scent. Your mind felt less foggy, “What ...happened Bakugou?” you questioned, “I know I was …” you paused, hearing Bakugou huff and cross his arms. “Yeah ...well some villain hit you with their quirk in case you forgot that,” he said and you placed your flowers to the side before you tried to recall. “Oh ...that’s right, during that battle. They hit me with some kind of mist ...and then …” you pressed a hand to your chest. “All I felt, all I saw was darkness,” you said with a frown.

“Yeah yeah, that stupid mist was …” Bakugou growled before pulling up a seat, “The villain you faced off with had some type of stupid manipulation quirk, they can control and inflict negative emotions into a victim of their choosing. We don’t know all the details, but we think their main goal is to make heroes end their lives by not only controlling their emotions but plaguing their minds with thoughts that ...aren’t true,” he explained before looking at you. His arms still crossed and while his expression was still stern, it softened as he looked at you.

“Look, I was ...worried about you back there. When I learned you jumped ...I didn’t know what to think ..I just wanted you to be okay and ...when I realized how you were feeling. Well ...maybe I should have been nicer to you.” he said, growling as he rubbed the back of his head. “How are you feeling?” he questioned, a slight blush coming to his face. You blinked, looking at the flowers before you leaned back, resting your head against the pillows. “I ...my mind is less foggy, but ...it was almost like ...like I was being controlled or just watching my life play through a television screen. I couldn’t say or do anything, I just watched myself ...fall apart,” you explained, your voice in a hushed whisper.

Bakugou took a deep breath, trembling as various emotions filled him. “I ...I’m sorry you had to go through that ...damn it.” he hissed before scratching his neck, fighting what he wanted to do. He slowly rose from his chair, his arms stretched out and you looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Are you okay?” you questioned, watching as his face contorted. “Uh …” you weren’t sure what to say as he walked over and wrapped his arms around you, he wasn’t used to giving or receiving hugs. So it was strange, feeling someone else’s warmth against him.

“Just ...please don’t do that again and if you’re ever feeling sad. Well come to me, I’ll make sure no shitty extras give you a hard time,” he said before quickly pulling back, his face red and you chuckled at the sight of it. “SHUT UP.” he snapped, “O-Or I won’t hug you again.” he said, “Would you want to hug me again?” you questioned with a smile and only received Bakugou’s angry glare in return. “Okay, okay,” you said, holding your hands up. “Thank you Bakugou.” you smiled at him, “Thank you for trying to care, but I promise. I’ll be stronger next time something like this happens.” he looked at you, his eyebrows knitting together.

Maybe he didn’t understand why you were saying that, but it didn’t matter. In the end, nothing but how you felt and how you reacted mattered. “Oh ...and I’ll make sure if I get too upset or sad. I’ll come to you, okay? I’m sorry for worrying you so much.” you said, rubbing your arm as you glanced down. “Yeah well ...I’m keeping you to that promise,” he said as he took a seat on the bed and you looked back at him. Almost feeling your heart stop when you saw that soft gentle smile on his face, one that could push the darkness back.

#bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #bnha requests #bnha fanfiction #bnha x reader #Anonymous

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